#with like hot pink and 10 shirts layered on top of each other

[thewisestdino]

Hi! May i humbly suggest Cinderpelt for the anthro warriors suggestions if she hasn’t already been requested? She’s my lovely lady and I adore her! Best of luck with your thesis btw!!

Got a couple requests for her so heres Cinderpelt, I went for peak farmer

#cinderpelt #anthro warrior cats #my art #warriors #warrior cats #ty as well AAAA hoping for the best for my thesis #couple of ppl requested her! #oh and this is her a little older i feel like when she was younger she would wear a lot of brighter colors and peak y2k fashion #with like hot pink and 10 shirts layered on top of each other #and a sparkly belt

[nationalharryleague]

One Day

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Drunk!Harry Fluff!

Word count: 2K

A/N: Hi all! This is some drunk boyfriend harry fluff that I just love sm. It’s based off of “One Day” by Catie Turner (I highly recommend listening to it!!) More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what you think in my ask! Thank you so much for reading! 

***

Harry was the life of the party when he wanted to be. He knew how to let loose, with a tequila on the rocks in one hand and a beer in the other, ready to party until he (literally) dropped. He always ended up on some sort of elevated surface like a teenage girl, usually a kitchen island or an absurdly expensive coffee table, singing along to whatever music was playing, magically knowing every word to whatever came over the speakers. Sometimes he would get lost in the winding corridors of the massive mansions his friends lived in, taking a wrong turn in his enhibrated state and ending up somewhere he definitely wasn’t supposed to be. There was also one time he jumped off a (thankfully low) roof into the swimming pool below.

But usually, he was calm, cool, and collected; gently sipping on a single drink he would nurse for most of the night. The two of you liked to sit and watch during these parties, his hand settling securely on your waist, keeping you close to him and away from the chaos that unfolded before you. You would curl up on a couch somewhere and just watch it all play out like it was an observational study, often giving commentary and ranking people and their drunk dancing out of 10.

“I feel like we're the mean girls in the corner of the cafeteria who just sit and silently judge everyone around them,” you would giggle, nuzzling yourself further into his side.

“That’s because we are the mean girls in the corner judging everyone around them, sweetheart” he would reply, in a slightly buzzed drawl.

But tonight was not one of those nights. And Harry had ended up standing on top of the dining room table scream-singing ABBA at the top of his lungs.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic and messy performance. His limbs flailed freely as he wiggled his hips along to the beat of Dancing Queen, singing into a small statue of a naked woman he had picked up off an end table that you assumed to be very, very expensive, like it was a microphone. He wore a pair of high rise denim flares that swayed along with his movements to the music and his white “Women are Smarter'' shirt was now stuck to his body with sweat, just see through enough for his butterfly to make an appearance.

He only came down after a green malaise began to settle over his features, skin slightly clammy and a bit pale. You extended a hand, helping his loopy body down off the table and letting him settle into your side for support once he was on solid ground again. “Let’s head to the bathroom, H,” you said gently, trying to settle the panic that was beginning to crawl into his eyes. “I’ll take care of you.”

Once he got to the beautifully large and extravagant bathroom, he crawled into a small, or as small as the large man could make himself, ball and rested his hot clammy cheeks against the cool marble of the floor. “May have overdone it,” he grumbled from his spot on the floor, holding on for dear life as you were sure the room was spinning for him.

“Ya think?” you teased, immediately feeling a pang of guilt when you were met with a pathetically needy face from him in return. “Oh baby, it’s okay.” You carefully dug through the cabinets, knowing there had to be washcloths somewhere in the lavish room, and once you found one you dampened it with cold water. Settling down on the tile next to him, you pulled him and his sweaty curls on to your lap, wiping the layer of sweat delicately from his skin and then resting the cold cloth on his forehead.

You two stayed in this position for a while, carefully rubbing his back in an effort to sooth the large man and trying to ignore the loud music that was still shaking the house around you. He looked small like this, no longer your giant protector, but like a younger version of himself who just needed someone to take care of him. You were happy to be that person, as he always was for you.

This was the first time you had ever seen him like this. He always managed to know his limits, but tonight he just went off the deep end. He had been working like a dog, constantly in and out of the studio, frustrated that none of the songs he was writing were up to his astronomically high standards for himself. It wasn’t too shocking that he was trying to escape that stress.

Gradually, as he laid on the floor and you held him close, the color came back into his cheeks and he stopped holding onto your legs like the room was about to take flight. When you sat him up against the wall, he was still a bit wobbly, but no longer looked like he was about to unload his stomach contents all over the room.

“How are you feeling now, H?” you asked softly, scanning his face for discomfort or distress as you dabbed the washcloth over his skin.

“’m okay,” he hiccuped back, “jus’ needed a cuddle.” He got exceptionally British when he got this drunk, his accent coming out in a barely distinguishable garble of tall vowels and dropped consonants, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

His eyes fluttered open and closed without rhythm as he looked at you, his light green eyes glazed over with a glassy shine, and his mouth hung open slightly, like he didn’t have the coordination to close it. His pink cheeks were flushed and his skin had a sweaty sheen. His head had rolled off too one side and rested on his shoulder, like his neck had given up on holding his head up, and his arms fell heavy at his sides.

You should have been at least slightly annoyed with him for acting like a college kid, drinking until he made himself sick. His behavior and subsequent need for you to take care of him should have gotten under your skin and caused a bit of anger to bubble up into your chest. But it didn’t. You were just taking care of your man.

“Do you still feel nauseous?”

“‘m a-ok, babay” he said, making himself giggle with his rhyme. His lips lazily curled up into a smile and he dragged a lazy arm up to give the “OK” symbol with his uncoordinated fingers, before the heavy limb dropped back down to the tile beneath him.

“Okay, funny man,” you began sarcastically, planning on instructing to drink the glass of water you had retrieved on your way up to the bathroom, when he cut you off.

“I am pretty funny, aren’t I?” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back the loud belly laugh that fell past your lips. He took the glass from you and began to sip, a proud smirk never leaving his lips as he looked at you.

“You were a comedian in a past life.”

“I agree.”

You two were quiet for a bit, Harry drinking something other than tequila for the first time the entire night, and you just admiring him in silence. You let your hand crawl into his, interlocking your fingers together before bringing it up to your lips and pressing small kisses to each of his knuckles. It wasn’t long before his glass of water was finished and he crawled back into your arms, his back pressing to your chest with your arms wrapped securely around his shoulders. Your fingers ran through his still damp curls, initially just to push them up and away from his forehead and eyes, but continued when you heard the little happy mewls coming from him.

“Ya take such good care of me,” he said sloppily with a gentle tone, breaking through the bubble of silence you two had created together.

“I always will.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his salty forehead and settled back onto the hard wall behind you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hadn’t been together for long, with saying the “L” word still being pretty new, and still slightly foreign, to both of you. But you meant it when you said it, you loved him, and your body always filled with a blushing warmth when he said he loved you too.

You had met through work when you interviewed him for the magazine you worked at. From the moment you saw those dimples in real life, you were weak in the knees and enamored with him. You hadn’t been trying to flirt, it just happened. And before he left the office, you had a date planned for that Friday. That was 6 months ago now and they had been some of the happiest of your life.

“Will you marry me?”

The question left his lips in his absurdly difficult to understand drawl and it took you a moment to process what he said, but when you did your heart stopped.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him, because you did, but not now.

It was too soon. There was still too much for you to do together, too much still to learn about him, and too much for him to learn about you. You hadn’t even had a serious fight yet; you didn’t know how he dealt with conflict or how you would react to it. You didn’t live together; you didn’t know how your living habits would match up or if they would drive each other insane. You didn’t know how you would deal with him touring being away for so long.

There was just too much you didn't know.

“I will someday.” You spoke gently, trying hard not to hurt his currently fragile feelings. You were now holding his face tenderly, like if you held him steady and close, you could lessen the blow.

“So, no?” he looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes, feeling guilt punch you in the gut.

“For now. Everything is just going so well right now, we don’t have to mess with it.”

“Jus’ wanna be with you forever,” he said softly and your heart began to melt. He was such a soft person, who felt everything so deeply and with so much emotion. He was a sap, and you loved him for it. You pulled him closer to your chest, pressing soft kisses to his temple.

“And you will be,” you breathed. “Forever will still be there down the line.”

“Why not now?” His lips held an adorable pout and you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing a kiss to them. He tasted awful, like tequila and sweat, but the kiss was loving and sweet as you tried to pour all your love for him into it.

“Because we still have to grow,” you watched the end of his mouth tick up, sure to make some sort of smartass comment about you both being grown already. “We have to grow together,” you finished.

“I guess so,” he mused softly.

“I promise that I will say ‘yes’ when we are ready someday.”

“Someday,” he repeated softly, feeling the words on his own lips. “I’m going to keep asking, ya know?” he smirked up at you, his smile and joking tone signalling that you hadn’t broken his heart, just bruised his ego a bit.

“That’s perfectly okay,” you sighed, a contagious smile finding its way to your own lips. “I’m going to keep saying ‘no’ until we’re ready, ya know?” you teased, using his own words against him.

“One day, I’ll make an honest woman outta ya when you let me.”

“One day.”

Thank you reading!! Reblogs/feedback mean the world!! 

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles concept #one direction #one direction fanfiction #harryandhockey #my writing

[oh-boy-me]

Demon Outfits Discussed

The wait is over :) thank you for your patience and all the lovely comments on the casual discussion!!

I feel like it got longer this time, so I hope it’s all an enjoyable read!  Also, I apologize for the ugly pictures--it was the easiest and fastest way to both have all the design in one image and also prevent it from stretching so far.

Like last time, please don’t take this too seriously; we love these boys and Justin doesn’t know them but has no grudges against them.  We’re just harping on their fashion sense.  Absolutely no hate is intended towards the boys or the design team!

Participants in the discussion were

Jo ( @jodaneko ), our art major with storyboarding/character design experience, who finds they have more in common with Satan each passing day.

Justin ( @justinlester0629 ), our fashion expert, who dressed up and filled a wine glass with water for the occasion.

Noodle (Me), our untrained eye who owns the Barbie as the Island Princess video game on three different platforms.  It’s not even that good.

Featuring emergency guest star Megan ( @maggo77​ ), my sister who is physically near me as we look at the backs of their designs for the first time.

Edit: Distracted by the pretty jacket, we made a mistake when putting in Levi’s silhouette rating.  It’s the worst.  2/10, not 6.

Lucifer:

“Boy looks like he’s about to swing open the doors of an expensive mansion during a debutante party and give some SCATHING NEWS.” —Justin

“Short shoulder cape and a long split butt cape lol” —Jo

Jo has realized that based on both outfits, Lucifer doesn’t want people looking at his butt.  Possible reasons are: he doesn’t have one, or Diavolo someone was getting distracted.

His shoes match his outfit.  After last time that’s all I care about.

A triple popped color, and how many layers is the middle one?  Is that a book?  Dude has like 27 collars.

The forehead diamond is very important and it’s great that there are diamond buttons to match it.  But uh.  How about those red diamonds on his sleeves.  They.  They sure are there.  (I actually like the red accents and that they match his gloves; I just can’t take the diamonds seriously.)

  Lucifer 🤝 Some Horses Diamond on the Forehead

The peacock motif is HERE and we’re all living for it.  HOWEVER, the feathers on the cape and coattails should have matched, OR there should have been more lime green because there’s so little of that color.

The pants have a pleat in the front, which Justin says means he responsibly irons his clothes, and Jo says only heightens the fact that under the capes this is a marching uniform.

Can he fly?  Jo says these are baby wings that can’t support his weight, and his cape has a hole for the top pair but blocks the bottom pair?  Can’t believe Lucifer handicapped himself for the sake of fashion.

The red makes it regal and the wide flowy design makes it imposing.  Good job, Lucifer!  I might actually be intimidated if I saw you.

Definitely the classiest outfit.  You can tell they put care into it.

Mammon:

“BITCH MY BODY CANNOT TAKE THIS KIND OF SEXY, I THINK I AM OVERHEATING!  NO MORE FURTHER COMMENTS, YOUR HONOR.  HAUTE AND HOT.” —Justin

The whole thing does amazing with only three colors.  We’ve noticed the trend of black and white + one color, but I mean hey.  It’s working so far.

Damn those pants sit low.  No wonder literally all of you wear belts.

The leather jacket?  The studs and harness?  Bless.  Justin calls it “the perfect blend of stylish and ‘I’ll see you tonight *wink*’”.

Kind of don’t like how the belts connect to the pants, though.  It looks better in the back.

“He found a really cool jacket, but it didn’t pair with anything so he just didn’t wear anything.” —Jo

Honestly though?  We’ve all made fun of Mammon for having big hoe energy in his outfits, but like, he knew he had wings and planned his outfit to accommodate for that.  He’s the only one who didn’t cut holes in his outfit.  Maybe Mammon was the smallest hoe after all.

Also if there’s a motif it repeats elsewhere, like the studs and diamonds on his jacket and pants.  Did he and Lucifer have a “tastefully putting diamonds on my outfit” battle?  Because Mammon definitely won.

One of the charms broke off the belt loop and he never bothered to replace it, and honestly thank god there isn’t two of those anymore.

Torn between wishing the boots were tighter to match the rest of the outfit and saying “yoooo they’re open in the back!!!”

Ok so so far we’ve said generally only good things, but there is one major issue with the design: Its gravity.  Everything points down, his tattoos, the diamonds, even his wings.  The center of gravity in the image is his shoes.  Bitch loved his shoes so much he made his whole outfit point to them.

Either way this was universally considered the best and I mourn Justin who doesn’t know how far Mammon’s standards are gonna fall from here.

Leviathan:

Diagonal zipper

“Levi what the fuck.” —Megan

He looks like an e-boy.

Honestly it looks like he borrowed something from Justin’s wardrobe for Pride but he didn’t know how to put it on.

APPARENTLY the biggest hoe.  Abs that he shouldn’t have coming through a mesh t-shirt.  I thought Mammon’s pants were low, but Levi’s whole-ass ass is out.  Ok Levi, I see you.

The shirt pattern is good but he probably leaves it partially unzipped because it’d look really dumb fully closed.

Justin loves the funky pants pattern and Jo likes the pants but not with the outfit.  It’s because the devs were too coward to give him a thick tail base so his pants had to fill that role by sharing the pattern.

The shoes are good, and not just because they incited Justin’s deep-set hatred for Christian Louboutin and his uncomfortable red-bottom shoes.

Justin is offended that he’s hiding his suspenders; either show them completely or not at all, no in between.  Jo’s not fully convinced it isn’t just one suspender.  What are his suspenders doing?  What are they attached to?  Are they holding anything up?  Apparently not.

Jo pointed out that if you squint the belt on his waist looks like fangs and the orange dots on his sleeves looks like eyes so it’s like theres a snake head on his outfit.  Cute!

The gloves are throwing us off though.  Why is Levi of all other brothers need gloves?  I bet he has sweaty hands.

Ok really, does his sweater unzip all the way into two pieces?  Or does it hang by that tiny thread underneath the tail hole?  There’s even a button, just in case.

Can’t believe this antler-sporting, suspender-wasting nerd went diagonal zipper on us because we beat him at a trivia game.  Should have just zipped his hood.

Satan:

HONEY.

“I hate everything about this.” —Megan

First of all, he’s straight up wearing Lucifer’s casual shirt.  Does it only button down the back?  Can he take it off?

Then he spilled bleach on his pants.  Like I get what they were going for but with the white on black that is literally just bleach stains.

Incredibly differing opinions on the belt.  He got it in the cowboy department.  Justin adores it.  Jo despises it.

And are those… athletic slip ons?

And now the elephant in the room.  The ribcage made of ribbons.  The ribboncage.  The idea is great!  I love that they gave him a skeletal theme without throwing him into a Hot Topic.

But if you take the ribboncage and feather boa off he’s literally just wearing a dress shirt and some nice jeans.  And that’s the problem with Satan’s demon form.  Not that it looks goofy.  It’s that they took risks but then hid all the risks behind business casual.

Also Megan said that the back of the ribbons look like a rock climbing harness.  Someone (probably Justin) said the front reminds them of the underbelly of a green cockroach.  Ew.

The feather boa would look better if it was over something you wouldn’t literally wear at the office.  (And also didn’t look so much like worm on a string.)

“He is going to Dragcon 2020 and is definitely going to take a picture and ask to lip sync, but accidentally start beef with Acid Betty.” —Justin

On a good note, loving how the tail fades to highly radioactive green.  Feels dangerous.  Megan pointed out that it’s a pretty wimpy tail, though.  Jo enjoys the self-conscious posture it expresses.

That’s basically the only good thing we have to say, though.

I just????

Merry Christmas.

Asmodeus:

The kanji on the picture is just saying that the coattail is the same on both sides.

Ok now with that out of the way, HONEY.

I’m sure he says that to others but I hope he says it to himself too when he looks in the mirror.

Starting with the good.  The wings?  Adorable.  The heart-shaped hole to accommodate them?  Adorable.  One of the only good adjustments.

And I love that the tips of his horns look venomous, like a scorpion tail!

We love a good floral design and a good twin tailcoat.

But once again, the shirt just has too much going on.  The flowers.  The buttons.  The brick-pattern stitching.  The brooch.  The long collar.  The fact that if he closed the last button it’d end in a diamond covering his crotch.  Sometimes less is more, Asmo.

That scorpion brooch is the best thing to ever grace my computer screen and it shouldn’t have to share the spotlight with the rest of his shirt.  It should have wrapped around his arm and been paired with some more jewelry.  Then he could have ditched those giant cuffs.

The bleeding heart tattoos are a really good idea!  But they should have been angled better and not like someone else put them on at the roller rink.  And maybe they shouldn’t have been outlined in pink.  Those aren’t tattoos, those are gaping holes in his arm.  Is he ok.

I’ve been avoiding the pants, but.  The pants.

“Oh dear god. Oh no that’s… I thought you were a designer…” —Jo

One side is buckled the ENTIRE way down, and then the other side is COMPLETELY plain.  It’s too extreme on both ends.  It should have been only half a leg of buckles.  Not whatever this is.  I still don’t think he can bend that leg.

The shoes are ok but they COULD have been a stiletto so.

Jo is DONE with these demons’ inability to wear socks.

We expected better from you, Asmo.  I hope you have to fasten all those buckles every morning as retribution.

Beelzebub:

He said “how many belts can I wear on one outfit.”

Justin said it’s like Barry B. Benson and Post Malone had a beautiful baby boy, and Obey Me! is cancelled for creating a sequence of events that could lead to me hearing that with my own two ears.

The jacket?  Stunning.  “It’s steampunk mixed with Jack Sparrow, mixed with Billie Joe Armstrong,” says Justin.  It’s got puffy sleeves!  And there’s objectively too much going on with the jacket, but since it’s a leather jacket I can forgive it.  Justin and Jo can’t.

I’m not sure why they keep giving him weird jacket collars but I prefer belt number 9 to fur.

“Why is it bucked in the back?  Couldn’t it have just been a jacket?” —Megan

Good that the black tank isn’t only black, but he has so little color on his outfit that it would have been nice for it and the matching pattern on his boots to have been a color besides gray.

I don’t mind the belts down the leg because they’re not too in your face.  Jo wants the white belt to be thinner.  Justin wants him to just pick one and go with it.

Poor Beel, he can’t do his lil thigh pat pose without his right hand being assaulted by studs and that bear trap-shaped buckle.

Justin feels like the cowboy boots are too wide up top and it’s probably because they’re FAKE cowboy boots.  I don’t know why he didn’t just get cowboy boots instead of putting fake coverings over his dress shoes.

Can’t fault the twin belt, though.  And the wing hole isn’t terrible.

Idk I guess.  They knew what they wanted to do at least.  

That seems to be the pattern with Beel: they know what they want to do, but something weird happens in the middle of it.

Belphegor:

“I don’t know which Teletubby let their son go through the it’s just a phase mom phase, but they should be ashamed.” —Justin

A toddler who just learned how to cut holes in paper got a hold of his hoodie.

Is it a hoodie?  A jacket?  A poncho?  The cow print actually isn’t terrible.  At least it had the decency to be unique in its spotting.  And the actual presence of blue is very appreciated.

On the topic of colors, Jo is calling the devs out on their apparent fear of color.  “Put the pink elsewhere, cowards,” they say.

We actually don’t hate the horseshoe, and using it for the belt buckles is actually really clever.  Even if 75% of them are doing literally nothing.  Feel like he didn’t need that many.  Could do without the bottom one, maybe even bottom two.

There’s a teeeeny tiny cowbell on the back?  Megan apparently finds that VERY important.  Why do they go to such great lengths to remind us that Belphie’s a cow?  Beel doesn’t rub his hands together 24/7.  Mammon doesn’t even get bird wings.

Just like Satan spilled bleach, Belphie has tar pants.

It’s nice to see a change in pant style, but.  Am I biased because I hate harem pants?  Maybe.  Are these harem pants too short on him?  Yes.  Maybe they were supposed to be parachute capris?  But it just looks he outgrew them too fast and Lucifer won’t buy him new pants yet.  At least they look comfy.

If he puts his keys in those pockets will his pants fall down?  Probably.  That’s a problem considering his are the only pants that look like they could hold any keys.

The shoes are fine.  I can enjoy a high topped sneaker.  …Is that a security tag?  Did he steal his shoes.  Belphie stole his shoes.

On the tiny tail hole, I appreciate that Belphie went for modesty.  But I hope it’s impossible to wear these outfits outside of demon form because I don’t want him walking around with a tiny hole right above his ass.

Honestly he doesn’t even look like a demon?  He just looks like… a cow.

There’s one more aspect of their demon forms that I didn’t feel comfortable forcing into a smaller space than it deserved: Silhouettes.  Jo puts a lot of weight on silhouettes and their role in character design.  Is it dynamic?  Is it recognizable?  Jo ranked them as such:

1. Lucifer: 9/10.  Care and effort were put into this design and it shows. 2. Mammon: 7/10.  Points deducted for most of it being form fitting but otherwise still manages to get a passing grade. 3 (tied). Beelzebub: 5/10.  His wings have actual mass but his horns being mostly hidden by his head reduce his score. 3 (tied). Belphegor: 5/10.  Evens out since his clothes aren’t as form fitting as the others but they also kind of turn him into a blob. 5. Asmodeus: 4/10, and only because he’s got multiple wings and that his tailcoat breaks up the bottom half. 6. Satan: 3/10, for the fact HIS BOA carries most of the work in altering his silhouette. 7. Leviathan: 2/10.  The tail and horns prevent this from being a total flop.

Our (surprisingly unanimous!) ranking of their outfits (not counting Megan her opinions deviated) were:

Mammon

Lucifer

Leviathan

Belphegor

Beelzebub

Asmodeus

Satan

In conclusion, any M-rated fic that doesn’t have it take demon Satan 20 minutes to take off his shirt is too unrealistic.

#got it out on time for demon day yaaaay #half of it got deleted because i'm a DUMB BUTT who hit the power button #so I had to redo a lot but I think it's all there #none of our notes got lost luckily just how I worded them #obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #swd obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me! #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me outfit analysis #image

[buntycake]

The Brothers and Wedding Day (Suit-Wearing MC)

Pride:

Diavolo having asked Lucifer to take care of some tasks before school, he met you at the entrance of RAD. On the steps of the school, illuminated by Devildom’s moon, Lucifer stood dressed up in a black suit and red vest that were tailored to perfection. He made you hope that you looked even a fraction as stunning.

The white and black embroidered suit that the two of you had picked out together had looked amazing – at least it had on the hanger. You owed it to Asmo for looking as good as you did. This morning he made it his goal to help you with your hair, makeup, and accessories this morning. Even if he was a few ideas away from going overboard, you were thankful.

So when his gaze met yours, eyes widening in surprise and a bright smile cracking over his face, your heart fluttered with happiness. He offered his arm as you reached the top of the steps and looked over your costume appreciatively. “Stunning, as always,” he’d complimented.

As you walked arm in arm through RAD, stares from the student body were abundant. Even Diavolo did a double-take when he met up with you two. He joked that you should hold a ceremony. After all, it would be a waste to look so good only for a school event.

 Greed:

Mammon had insisted on getting dressed together and ended up worming his way into your room. He claimed that he couldn’t risk someone seeing you in your outfit before him. You were his human and he had to be first in everything. So, he stayed, and you dressed in the bathroom.

The outfit you picked out was a dress shirt, fitted pants, and a simple tie. There was gold detailing on the shirt that made you shimmer under the light. You had thought that with all the gold accessories added on you would look garish, but looking at yourself in the mirror, you looked lavash. Like you bathed in money for fun.

Mammon was pacing nervously around the room when you exited the bathroom. He seemed to freeze and buffer when he caught sight of you. You couldn’t help but chuckle and took the chance to take in his appearance, too.

He looked roguish in a suit. Mostly because he didn’t button up his shirt, tighten his tie, or fix his hair. Of course, his black suit was accented with gold – you were his human, so you had to match. Honestly, between the two of you, you kind of looked like you were attending a mafia wedding.

He blinked furiously, finally breaking out of his daze. With surprising speed, he stepped forward and grabbed your hands, he got down on one knee. “Marry me.” You laughed out of surprise. Mammon insisted that he was serious and that he’d buy you a ring later.

 Envy:

You’d never seen Levi sew until the first day of Spirit Week. That morning, you had tried putting on the traditional black kimono and hakama he’d made for you, but with all the fabric you ended up tripping over yourself and tearing one of the layers while trying to put it on.

When you brought the torn kimono to his door, you expected him to be mad. Instead he just took it from your arms and shuffled you into his room. He pulled out a sewing machine from god knows where and within 10-15 minutes he had gotten it patched up.

You could barely hear him offering to help you put on the kimono as he murmured. Even so, you accepted the offer. As embarrassing as it was to be undressed in front of him, you had a feeling that Levi was even more embarrassed, if his flushed face was any indication. But he diligently helped you put on each layer of the outfit. His hands steady the entire time.

When he had finished, his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary. Then he excused himself and went to put on his own outfit. He exited his bathroom with a traditional black kimono and hakama – his sigil of envy embroidered on each shoulder. His blush returned when you told him he was handsome. From the corner of his room he produced a parasol and surprisingly bold this morning, he took one of your hands.

Even though your outfits weren’t as flashy as some others at RAD (looking at you Asmo), there was something more intimate to them. Walking hand-in-hand under a paper parasol, you almost feel like true newlyweds.

 Wrath:

Satan took a more historical approach to the prompt. Instead of dressing in modern wedding styles, he was set upon basing your costumes on a different era. So, the two of you researched weddings across the ages and decided on the Victorian Era. He had some suits fashioned for the two of you – with a couple of modern touches, like less scratchy fabrics.

The day of, you had expected to look much more uncomfortable in your suit. Afterall, the whole ensemble included the appropriate socks, high-waisted pants, an undershirt, a collar shirt, a vest, a cravat, a morning coat, and (of course) a top hat. The whole outfit was a bit stuffy, given all the layers, but you felt exceedingly charming in it. Maybe it was the top hat or the smart mulberry coat, but you were struck with a surge of confidence as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You were startled by a knock on the door. On the other side you found Satan, looking absolutely princely. He wore a traditionally blue morning coat with a white waistcoat and green hellebore flowers tucked in his coat pocket. It looked as if he tried to slick back his hair, but a few troublesome strands still managed to fall in his face.

Admittedly, you had felt shy under his gaze as he seemed to take in every element of you. He took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.  “You look absolutely exquisite.” With how hot your face became; you could have boiled a pot.

It turned out wearing multiple layers in Devildom wasn’t the best idea. It was a blessing that Satan was around to remind you to drink water or to sit down and shrug off a few layers when you got too woozy. Even so, the two of you were the most elegant looking couple at RAD. It was like you had stepped out of a vintage photo.

 Lust:

Trust that Asmo has spent WEEKS planning for this day and you were absolutely dragged into that preparation. This included tearing through wedding boutiques looking for the perfect dress. Make no mistake, he gets to wear the wedding dress. Period.

Inevitably, none of the dresses met his expectations and he designed his own. Poor Levi was roped into helping make the dress. Once all that was completed, then it was your turn. He helped you pick out a chic suit. The two of you decided to ditch the plain, traditional suit for a sleeker vest suit.

You saw the dress on the hanger before you saw it on Asmo because he insisted you get ready together so he could help you with your ensemble. After Asmo’s 100 step self-care routine and getting dressed in your own outfit, he finally stepped out in his full costume.

Draped in silvery organza that gathered on a floor like a blooming flower, his modesty barely saved by the plunge line, stark white sheath underneath the transparent fabric, Asmo looked beyond stunning. He forwent the traditional veil for a giant, wide brimmed lace hat.

Of course, you complimented him, and he ate it up. However, the rest of the morning was devoted to you. Your brightly patterned vest was the statement piece of your outfit and Asmo was able to bring it all together with a few choice accessories. Together, the two of you were so dazzlingly, that the student body has a hard time looking at you directly.

At RAD, Asmo insisted on a photo shoot. Of course, he roped other students into it, too. He spent a decent part of the day photographing other’s outfits. When he showed you the glamour shots he took of you, you were floored. Even dressed in an outfit out of your comfort zone, Asmo had managed to capture you candidly – truly as yourself.

 Gluttony:

Honestly, Beel was just happy that you wanted to dress up with him. He went shopping with you to pick out outfits and worked to match his outfit to whatever suit you chose, but he didn’t really have an opinion on his own outfit. So, he ended up choosing a classical tuxedo.

The day of, he came to your door, a rose and a sunflower in hand, and looking like the sweetest thing in the world. You felt the heat rising in your cheeks as he tucked the flowers into your coat pocket and complimented your appearance.

The two of you weren’t the flashiest couple at RAD, but you sure did get a lot of looks when Beel decided to carry you bridal style for the rest of the day. The action had Lucifer in a tizzy, but it just made you feel warm and loved to be tucked into his chest. Asmo just had to take a picture of you two like that. You were glad he did, since you now keep that photo tucked in a safe place.

The highlight of the day for Beel was absolutely the massive wedding cake that Barbatos made for lunch time. It had to have had at least a hundred tiers to it. The cake was the traditional white with intricate pink and red frosting roses as decoration. Beyond Barb’s beautifully crafted cake, Beel seemed to really appreciate the tradition of couples feeding cake to each other. Especially when he could use it as an excuse to kiss the remaining crumbs off your lips.

 Sloth:

Belphie decided he was going to wear a pajama suit to Wedding Day. You know, the ones with a suit printed on the front? Yeah, there was zero effort to be had for Spirit Week. So, you just decided to roll with it.

You found a suit made of satin pajama material, some slippers, and used a bed sheet as a cape for some flair. Belphie couldn’t help but laugh when you went to retrieve him from the attic. It was enough to prompt him to go to school that day. BUT you had to bridal carry him there. (Don’t worry, Beel helped you out if you weren’t strong enough.)

The two of you were clearly out of place in your pajamas among the sea of white dresses and suit. You got plenty of odd stares from the other students as you passed them in the halls. Asmo was personally offended by the costumes you showed up in. Even more so because the two of you wouldn’t take a proper photo. The two of you looked like a walrus passed out on Ambien every time someone turned a camera on the two of you.

It wasn’t until the two of you started napping anywhere and everywhere at RAD that Lucifer began to rag on the two of you. The temptation was too much for Belphie. He was wearing pajamas and your bed sheet cape made naps easily accessible. It was just too easy for the two of you to cuddle up together.

Apparently, Lucifer had been holding back a lecture on proper attire because it was Spirit Week but sleeping in the middle of the hallway was the last straw.  The two of you got a scolding that was about half a day long, but according to Belphie, it was completely worth it. He could never regret spending a day creating mischief with you.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me gn!mc #obey me spirit week #obey me gender neutral mc

[daaedoodles]

Building walls (just to tear them down) | 2, Memories

A/N, TRIGGER WARNING for semi-graphic descriptions of self harm and anxiety.

Cloaked in the darkness of night, the urges come again.

She knows she shouldn’t do it.

She knows she shouldn’t hurt herself anymore than she already has.

She knows she shouldn’t throw away all of that progress, all of the good in her life.

But she does.

That feeling is intoxicating, the quietness and the sense of calm that passes over her - a promise for a release in the pain she causes herself, a way to escape, to feel better - Sarah Reese can’t find the strength in herself to refuse.

It tempts her with every birthday that comes and goes, with every time she's taken the backseat, watching a past version of herself wandering through the endless halls of her childhood home.

She’s suddenly 18 again, standing in the kitchen staring down at a stove she once remembers being so much taller that despite her 10 year old self’s best efforts at tippy-toeing could hardly see the top of. Dragging the pads of her fingers against every wall of the house and memorizing each and every bump and dent beneath her fingertips. Sitting at the foot of the tiny bubblegum pink bed that was hers once upon a time.

The image of a little girl, a shiny rainbow party hat sitting on top of her lion's mane of curls that frames her chubby cheeks, catches her eye from across her bedroom. She’s sitting before a massive cake that’s at least twice the size of her head with the biggest smile on her face, flashing a missing tooth. Carefully piped clouds of white cream surround the words ‘Happy Birthday Sarah!’ piped in a pink, messy scrawl she recognizes as her own mother’s, atop the cake. Tentatively reaching out, she picks up the photo frame. A lump rises in her throat as she studies the photo with intent, feeling the grime of the dust that’s collected on it over years of never being even looked at. Thumbs sweep across the glass thoughtfully, hot breath shuddering against her cupid’s bow.  Her father is grinning too, bending down to the left of the young girl as he reaches out with a flickering flame in his hands to light the number ‘5’ candle that’s stuck haphazardly by tiny hands into the chiffon. Her mother is at her other side, an arm slung around her shoulders as she draws her close to her chest. It’s the only memory Sarah can begin to place as the last time she or her family were genuinely happy.

Because come her sixth birthday, her father is gone. 

He’d simply packed his things and left without a word. 

She remembers her mother’s voice, screaming and shouting protests through broken sobs. They paint the walls of a home she once loved in the dark blues and purples of the pain in her every cry. She remembers her father, his silhouette through the cracks of her bedroom door, grabbing fistfuls of her mother’s shirt. She can’t tell whether it’s the floor beneath her feet or her that trembles with every thud that reverberates through her home. 

Then, silence.

The next morning, his study has been cleared of every book that lined his walls, his half of the closet is suddenly empty and the photos of her family that hung in the living room are on the ground- cherished memories, now shattered beneath the glass of broken picture frames. 

Even then, aged five and three-quarters, she knew things would never be the same again.

Sarah Reese isn’t a sentimental person. There isn’t much sentiment to spare for the things in her life. They’re empty and hollow, she tells herself, nothing but painful reminders of the memories she could have made if things were different.

Despite every rational thought in her head pleading with her not to, she’s removing the backing of the photo frame and removing the photo that was affectionately placed for display all those years ago. She holds onto the foolish hope that after being let down so many times, she’d be ready to let go. But she stuffs the image in her pocket and packs her memories hastily into cardboard boxes. They’re crammed and shoved desperately into the back of a U-Haul, a last minute addition to a boot packed to the brim crisp, white boxes, full of more brand new things that could ever use.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there Sarah.” Her mother’s voice crackles through the speaker, the cold screen of her phone pressed against her ear. This time, she doesn’t feel her heart sink into her stomach.

Although, she can’t help but hope - that her mother might still come home and scoop her up in her arms like she’s five again, tears tracing down her cheeks as she places lipstick-stained lips against Sarah’s forehead in a goodbye. She knows better now than ever that it’s nothing but wishful thinking.

“I want to make sure you have everything you need.”

She’d convinced herself months ago where she’d go.

Chicago, thousands of miles away from Amsterdam. Thousands of miles away from all of it, maybe she’d finally be free of all of the haunting memories, of all of the silly hopes and pain.

But it isn’t so different after she leaves home and the dread that she’ll never escape begins to close in on her.

Sarah was alone on her 19th birthday, like the year before and the one prior and pretty much every birthday she could remember; left only with her thoughts that easily filled every inch of her apartment. They hang thick, full of grief as she mourns the loss of hope in the way the whiskey seems to coat every inch of her mouth and burn as it makes its way down her throat. Grief, a bitter companion in her isolation that refuses so adamantly never to leave her side.

She can’t tell how much she’s had to drink, too out of her mind to even think straight because suddenly the air is too thick to breathe and she feels like she’s choking, her chest tightening as she feels her heart begin to race. Her skull feels like moments away from exploding, the thoughts in her head too loud and too quiet all at once. Sarah can’t stop herself as her hands scramble, clawing desperately at her skin and pressing her face into her knees as the scraping of her fingernails cuts through the noise, a scalding heat spreading across her entire scalp. It’s the only thing she can focus on at that moment. The sensation of her fingernails digging into her skin, the strange dampness that begins to stick to her fingers and the harsh smell of metal that hits her nose. It doesn’t even register in her brain what she’s done to herself until she’s scrubbing her hands and fingernails of her own gore.

When it happens again, she finds herself subconsciously beginning to scrape at her skin, sending shocks of pain throughout her body under her touch.

It became a crutch that she found herself relying on more and more over time as things grew hectic with the turn of 20.

As the competition between her classmates grew tighter at 21, it wasn’t enough anymore.

So completely blind and oblivious to it - the way her entire life tears away at what was left of Sarah Reese by 22.

At 23, she was nothing but a terrified girl who’d learned to pin every last hope on her own self-destruction.

She’s 24 now. Sarah grew to appreciate the brief moments when that crushing feeling she’s lived with all of her life releases it’s relentless grip on her, where she smiles and laughs and then the weight on her shoulders suddenly lifts, in the memories of quiet comfort she holds close to the heart that she’d collected over the years in Chicago. It’s an absolute relief while it lasts.

But just as quickly as they come, they leave. It becomes easier to hate the good because those fleeting moments of freedom only begin to hang over her head, pointing at her, taunting, mocking, laughing at her.

25 and she finally feels like for once in her life, things might turn out okay. It’s still hard, every single day is a struggle because that hurt never truly goes away, no matter how badly she wants it to. She falls into the cycle of throwing her feet over the edge of her single bed in the cold winter mornings, wandering through her apartment with her mind still cloudy with sleep, slipping her flannel pajamas off her feet and into her work clothes then catching the bus to Gaffney Chicago Medical. In the ED, that girl realizes a warmth, a genuine sense of comfort and belonging in her colleagues and the companionship. Sarah Reese is exhausted and she can’t help but feel like she’s found a home, even a family, in these people. There’s a part of her that wants so badly to push them away so she can never get hurt again but she’s too comforted by the way her heart swells in their company, with what she can only discern in joy, to listen to it. Now, there’s a reason to fight and she doesn’t know if she wants to give up anymore.

Near 26, her pale skin.once a blank canvas was left brutally scarred and damaged in hues of purples, reds and whites. Scars layered on top of one another as she’d run out of space in places easy to conceal, easy to hide from people. There’s a sickening feeling of guilt that fills her each time she sees the damage she’s done to herself.

In the moment, she's too far gone to care. She’s lost count of just how many there are, just how many times she's found herself frantically trying to patch herself up, just how many times she's woken up to blood on her sheets and scabs under her fingernails.

Her thoughts barely come back into focus only as she’s shakily pressing the adhesive of the bandages around her wounds. It’s absolutely silent, her mind foggy and clouded with pain - the panic, fear and anger have passed - and she’s focused on nothing but the heat of the blood pooling at her skin and the darkness seeping and spreading across the white gauze. Sarah’s vision flickers in and out of focus, eyes hazy and heavy, begging for rest. As the adrenaline too begins to fade, just how exhausted she is becomes apparent as she falls back onto her bed, greeted by a pitch black when her eyes fall closed despite her willing them to stay open.

Sarah's jolted awake when her phone buzzes on her bedside table. Through her foggy vision, it's lit up with a brand new notification.

She groans, reaching for her phone and pressing fingers blood encrusted onto the power button. It flashes on, the time displayed in bold in the foreground of an image of herself caught mid laugh as she's surrounded by the people in the ED who are donning cheap Christmas hats and silly expressions, the ward around them decorated with paper ornaments on the glass of each bay in some attempts to brighten the place against hospital policies. Beside her is Dr Charles who has a hand raised and stroking the fake Santa beard strapped onto his chin. Halstead is directly behind her with sparkling red tinsel wrapped around his neck that extends its way down the row of Dr Manning, Connor and Choi.

The memory of the banter and laughs shared that Christmas Eve rises in her head and she feels lighter already.

She's staring blankly at her superiors and the tinsel that hangs off their shoulders with enough left over on either end to fall to a heap on the ground, brows furrowed and lips pursed. "Found it at Party City," Maggie announces nonchalantly, motioning from her spot where she's kneeling with the rest of the nurses, April on her left turning to face the younger girl with a tinge of concern in her eyes.

Sarah blinks, shaking herself out of her thoughts, eyes wide as she looks at the Head Nurse. "They sell Christmas decorations?"

Maggie laughs, "Never been Reese?" She queries, earning a shaking head in response. "They sell just about damn near everything."

She's dismissing the memories from her mind as she taps the text notification that pops into her vision.

It's from Dr Charles.

As her eyes scan the words, Sarah feels her lips begin to tremble as they turn upwards in the tiniest of grins.

‘Happy Birthday Reese :).’

It's funny how just three words could mean so much to her - how just a simple text could make her heart shatter into a million pieces and so carefully piece it back together again.

It’s a bittersweet feeling.

For the first time in years, she's not alone anymore.

#pieces!au #building walls (just to break them down) #reese's pieces #sarah reese #sarah reese's birthdays over the years #sarah reese fanclub #dr daniel charles #dr charles #chicago med #chicago med fanfiction #maggie campbell #april sexton #connor rhodes #natalie manning #ethan choi #gaffney chicago medical #tw descriptions of self harm #5+1 things but it's angst #hurt/comfort but mostly hurt #our girl is going through it #it gets so much worse before it gets better #rachel dipillo #all aboard the angst train

[theneverfinishedstory]

10. Dark Skies

CW: Implied eating of humanoid people

Something tapped her nose. The tapping spread from her cheeks to her forehead and nose all at once. Mirage opened her eyes as more raindrops pattered against her face. The sky, only a few hours ago a bright blue with some puffy white clouds, was now a deep purple-black. Thunder rumbled when Mirage shot up. She glanced around her and saw the whole campsite was empty. The other trainees’ bed rolls were where they had left them. Mirage swore, grabbing her hat next to her bedroll, and got to her feet. She was late. 

It was time for the five trainees to prove their full fledged membership. A few days earlier, the five of them, Mirage, Josephine, Hayden, Ida, and Leonard had set out from Beggar's Canyon towards their mission’s hotspot. A band of werejackals had amassed quite a fortune from attacking wagon trains traveling between remote towns. Because of all the murders and robberies, that particular trail was abandoned. But rumor had it the werejackals still staked out the road, waiting for more travelers. More importantly, they sat on their mounds of treasure. Since it wasn’t doing anything good for anybody, the Caravan thought it would be perfect for the recruits to find it. The recruits were given a time to strike and Mirage had just slept right through it. 

“Shit, shit, horse shit,” she hissed to herself. 

She headed down the cliffside towards the outcropping of mesas where the werejackals’ hideout was supposed to be. It would be easy enough to find; Mirage just had to follow the old wagon tracks that were baked into the ground winding its way between the small mesas. It was the ground coverage she needed to make up for. As she ran, Mirage focused her inner energy and tapped into the wellspring Arabella and Ransom called ki. Like a jolt of strong coffee, Mirage felt her stride lengthen and she instantly covered more ground. She slowed her pace when between the mesas. The only sound she heard was her footsteps, an occasional rumble of thunder, and the increasing patter of raindrops against rocks above. 

About halfway through the pass, Mirage came around a bend. The bend led into a large open space, the rock walls of the two mesas now about fifty feet apart. Broken wagon wheels lay next to their snapped wooden axles and tattered canvas fluttered from the husks of wagon coverings. Barrel staves, the barrels themselves long ago torn open, were now rusted halos in the dirt. Close to the center of the wreckage, was a small fire. Two humanoid creatures hunched over it and spoke to a massive figure on the opposite side of it. From what Mirage could see, the creature had an animal like body but a human torso and head. There was a stack of humanoid figures next to it. Red eyes glanced over and saw Mirage’s horrified expression.

“Well boys, you must have missed one,” the voice said, clear as a church bell among the rain. 

“Nah, your majesty,'' a voice said near Mirage’s right side, “We’ve been tracking her since we heard her. These boots these fools wear sure are a dead giveaway, huh?”

Mirage struck out where she thought the person was. Her fist grazed coarse fur. 

“Tsk, tsk,” the werejackal said, already moving away from Miage. “Feisty. Mind if we play with your food again, your majesty?”

“Quiet, Rylan,” the creature ordered. “Come here, little one. Come closer. I want to see you up close.”

When Mirage didn’t move, the werejackal closer to her whispered, “Better listen, numbskull.”

Against her better judgement, Mirage slowly moved closer. She heard two additional werejackals join from her left as the original one on her right followed close behind. Five total and the monster on the other side. She racked her brain trying to remember if a monster was ever discussed in the mission briefing. All she remembered discussing were werejackals: basic humanoid creatures that worked in small packs. Mirage knew she would have remembered a mission involving a half mountain lion person. 

Now that she was closer to the fire, Mirage could see the mysterious creature. From the top up, she was the most beautiful woman Mirage had ever seen. Long gold hair hung in a braid on either side of the woman’s face. A jewel toned cowboy hat graced her head. Her cheekbones were sharp enough to cut rope and the red eyes, hot like embers, regarded Mirage carefully. She wasn’t wearing a shirt, just layers of necklaces, all gold and encrusted with turquoise, jade, and obsidian. Her sun-baked skin melted into the lower half of a mountain lion, but five times bigger. Four massive paws ended in bloodied claws and her lion’s tail flicked in the dirt. The rain did little to diminish the presence this creature had. 

“Who are you?” Mirage blurted out. “What are you doing here? You weren’t...this wasn’t… where are the others?”

“Others?” the creature repeated, her tone full of mockery. “You don’t possibly mean the four heroes dressed like you?” She leaned forward, adding, “Though you have a different colored bandanna.”

“Yeah, I mean them,” Mirage replied. “Where are they?”

The werejackals all around her started snickering, their high pitched giggles mixing with the next roll of thunder. 

The creature smiled and shushed them. Pointing over to the pile, “Care to join them, little one?” she asked. 

Further out, Mirage couldn’t make out who was in the pile of bodies, but now that she was closer, she saw them all. Hayden’s black boots they’d bragged about stealing, Ida’s hand woven belt, Leonard’s shaggy green hair, Josephine’s red bandanna; the bodies were her fellow recruits. Mirage stumbled backwards and looked back at the creature. 

“H-how? They were all trained, we are all trained-” Mirage said.

“Trained in the mysterious powers of ki, right?” the creature replied. “I happen to know a lot about ki and how to get into little peasants' minds that seem to work like you and yours formerly. Honestly, in hindsight I should have just commanded them all to serve me, but I was just so hungry. And a little tender meat is a favorite of mine. Turn one against the others and it is just a wonderful show with a meal afterwards”

The creature took something off the fire. Mirage watched as the hunk of meat disappeared into the monster’s very human mouth. While chewing, she sighed, “There’s two things in life I live for. Tender meat and treasure. Speaking of, y’all were trying to steal from me.”

“Y’all weren’t doing anything with it, nothing useful to nobody!” Mirage said. “Your money could help people, people who really need it.”

A pink tongue licked a bit of blood from the corner of the creature’s mouth. “Or I could keep it and admire it. Which I find much more appealing than what you suggested.”

“Your majesty, I hear people approaching!” one of the werejackals in the back hissed. 

The creature’s lips pursed. “Maybe that message they were sending did get out.” 

“Do we fight?” the werejackal to the right of Mirage asked.

“Let’s see what they want,” was the reply. “You, little one. I suggest you remain where you are but turn and face them.”

Mirage was going to tell her to go to hell but oddly enough felt her body turning away from the fire. She tried to twist back but couldn’t. Having her back to an enemy so unknown to her sent Mirage’s mind into overdrive. She tried to meditate and focus on breathing like Ransom and Arabella taught her to, but it wasn’t working. Giving up, Mirage opened her eyes as a dozen or so members of the Caravan came around the bend. Seeing what was before them, almost In perfect unison, they all shifted into fighting stances. 

A raspy voice shouted something over in a language Mirage didn’t understand. Seeing the orange kerchief, Mirage assumed it was Jolene, one of the Caravan leaders. The creature replied something back in the same language, the creature’s voice sounding unimpressed. The conversation picked up speed and increased in volume between the two and Mirage understood none of it. After what felt like an eternity, the strange compulsion to remain where she was, faded. Freedom returning, Mirage pitched forward and kept moving that direction, trying to put as much distance as she could between her and the creature. Arms grabbed her in a fierce hug and Mirage panicked, shoving the person away. 

“Eolian, it’s me,” Arabella said. 

She grabbed Mirage’s shoulders and forced her to stand still. The tiefling was panting and there was a sheen sweat across her forehead. Mirage stopped struggling but had to see behind her, just to check that she was still awake and not dreaming. The other members of the Caravan were walking forward, following Jolene towards the fire. The werejackals made room and scuttled closer to the creature as the monks sat down. Once seated, Jolene called out over her shoulder in Common, “McClain, Jericho. Get Eolian out of here. We’ll meet you when we’re done here.”

With a curt nod, Arabella guided Mirage the way she had entered the nightmare back out the wagon path. Arabella’s arm remained around Mirage’s shoulders as they walked. Ransom appeared on Mirage’s other side. The rain turned into a downpour. Hard packed, dusty dirt softened. Water streamed off each of the trio’s hat brims. Mirage, not able to see in the dark, found her boots caught on every rock and dip and valley the rain carved. But Arabella kept her upright as they continued on. 

Not able to keep it in anymore, Ransom whispered, “How the hell did you survive that, Mirage?”

Mirage felt her eyes well with their own rainwater, saying, “I slept in.”

#d&d #d&d wild west campaign #d&d story #original character #d&d monk #smoke genasi #original content #short story #fantasy writing #yeehawgust #yeehawgust 2021 #dark skies

[svtwritess]

Chapter 4

➫ word count: 7.6k

➫ pairings: wonwoo x female reader, mingyu x female reader

➫ genre: fluff, angst, smut

➫ college!au, vampire!au

➫ warnings: alcohol, mentions of food, swearing, sexual content

A week had passed since Wonwoo’s outburst, and things had returned back to normal. Minus the fact that you had to consciously stop yourself from telling your best friend about Mingyu. It was hard since he was your only form of social life outside of Wonwoo, but you sucked it up for the purpose of the deal you made with him. You had spent so much time with Mingyu and you were extremely happy about it. He took you out to lunch after the class you had together and mentioned that he wanted to make it a weekly thing, to which you happily agreed. He had also picked you up from each of your classes, waiting outside the door with your favorite coffee in his hand, prepared to walk you to your apartment. He would usually stay over until right before Wonwoo was supposed to come home and much to your delight, things usually got relatively heated for at least a little while. You didn’t know what you did to be treated so well, but you were in far too deep to question it.

You were currently on the phone with Mingyu who was trying his hardest to convince you to go to another party, one that was happening that night, and you were refusing profusely. 

“I’m sorry but no! Why can’t we just watch a movie or something?” you whined, picking at the fur on one of your stuffed animals as you sat on your bed.

“Because my friends are gonna be there and I really want you to meet them! You don’t even have to dress up, just wear jeans or something.” he whined back, his pleading tugging at your heartstrings very effectively.

“Well if I’m meeting all of your friends, I’m gonna wear more than just jeans.” you smiled to yourself, feeling happily defeated.

“Soooo is that a yes?” you could hear the cheeky grin on his face from through the phone.

“Yes, now tell me when and where it is before I change my mind.” you giggled, standing up and walking over to your closet. You opened it excitedly, knowing exactly what you were going to wear. 

“I’ll pick you up at 9 okay? Meet me at the entrance to your place, and try to stay awake until then.” he teased and you nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see you.

“Will do, see you later.” 

“Byeee.” he said, ending the phone call in just as much of an endearing way as he started it. 

You checked the time on your phone before locking it and tossing it on your bed. It was 8:10, giving you a little less than an hour to get ready. If there was something you’d learned about Mingyu in the past week, it was that he was very punctual, and very proud of the fact. 

You took the dress you were going to wear out of your closet, admiring it for a moment. It was a dark pink color, flowers scattered here and there, with a high v-neck and short sleeves. It hugged your body in the most flattering way and fell to your mid-thigh, but those were the only ways in which it was revealing. 

You took your shoes out of your closet as well before going to get your makeup bag. You only planned to wear a small amount, just enough to make an… impressive first impression. 

You played some music as you got ready, taking your time getting dressed and applying your makeup. You even put on some of your favorite perfume before slipping on your socks and shoes. You grabbed a small purse from one of your drawers and threw your phone in it, preparing to put your keys in it as well. You stepped out of your bedroom and went to grab your keys that you knew were on the counter by the door. 

“Where are you going?” Wonwoo asked from the couch, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose with a bowl sitting in his lap. 

“Just… out.” you shrugged, throwing your keys into your bag and heading out the door. You knew if you went to explain further you would end up saying more than he needed to know, so you decided to skip it. Wonwoo would figure out who you were with soon enough. 

As you walked toward the entrance to your apartment complex, you saw Mingyu’s tall figure approaching. He was dressed in a thin black sweater that was made of slightly see through material, light blue jeans that made his thighs look amazing, and black sneakers. You were finally close enough to hear each other and his eyes widened. 

“Wow…” Mingyu breathed out, “This is casual for you?” he laughed in awe as he pulled you in by your waist, his brown orbs full of admiration.

“Maybe, is that an issue?” you asked, running your hands up his arms, admiring the way the black of his shirt complimented his honey-colored skin. 

“Not at all.” he smirked, placing a quick kiss on your lips. “You ready?” 

You nodded happily and reached down to take his hand in yours. “Let’s go!” 

You walked in silence toward wherever the party was, it seemed like it was in a similar spot to the previous party location. Though when you arrived at the house, it was much smaller than the one last weekend and it seemed like there were way less people there. Upon entering, it felt more like a get together than a party, but you almost preferred that. 

There were still people dancing with cups full of alcohol in their hands under low, colored lighting, but the environment was much more relaxed. Mingyu led you down to the basement where there were people sitting on couches and conversing, a thin layer of smoke covering the room. He walked you over to a small leather couch in the back corner where 4 men around your age were seated, two on the loveseat and two on the floor. 

“Y/n, these are the guys.” he motioned outward with his hand and they all looked up at you, eyes wide. They stood up frantically and straightened their clothes out before smiling at you. The first 3 were giving you sweet, cheeky smiles, while the other was smirking at you with his arms crossed over his chest. “This is Chan, Vernon, Jihoon, and Jeonghan.” 

You couldn’t deny that they were all attractive, but not as attractive as Mingyu, at least in your opinion. Chan and Jihoon had an endearing, youthful vibe to them, while Vernon seemed very chill, and Jeonghan seemed… unique. 

They all said their hello’s and you said hi back, your nerves suddenly settling in.

“So this is the girlfriend huh?” Jeonghan said, a cocky tone to his voice. Your cheeks heated up as you held back a smile, and just as you were about to protest, Mingyu spoke up.

“I guess that would be the best way to describe it, yeah.” he laughed nervously. Your jaw dropped slightly and looked up at Mingyu in disbelief. Your entire face was now red, not expecting to gain that title this evening, even if he seemed a little apprehensive about it. You were itching to have that conversation, but you knew you needed to save it for after the party. 

“Well good for you guys. Are you hanging out with us tonight?” Jihoon said as they all returned to their places on the couch or carpet. 

“We were planning on it, if that’s okay.” Mingyu replied. They all nodded, Chan still with a small smile on his face. Mingyu led you to the wall opposite of where you were standing and sat down against it, patting the spot next to him. You sat as appropriately as you could, with your legs bent so that your knees pointed toward Mingyu. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was the only way you could sit without flashing the entire party. Mingyu put his hand on your thigh and smiled at you. 

“Here,” Jeonghan said as he held a jacket out to you, “for your legs.” his voice was quiet and he almost seemed shy, which was a huge contrast to his smug presence you had just witnessed. 

“Thank you,” you said appreciatively before draping the coat over your lower body. Your “boyfriend” seemed happy about the interactions that had happened thus far as his thumb rubbed your leg comfortingly. 

“So, Vernon over there is dating a guy named Seungkwan, he’ll be here later. You know him?” Mingyu asked and your face lit up at the mention of a familiar name.

“Oh yeah! I only met him once, but I think he knows my roommate. He seems really nice.” you said, a small smile on your face. You were happy someone you actually knew would be joining you. Even if you only met in passing, seeing a face you’d seen before would further comfort you.

“Oh he’s nice, and have you seen his ass?” Jeonghan said playfully before Vernon reached up and hit his arm, though Jeonghan simply laughed as he rubbed the spot. You laughed at the exchange, seeing Mingyu smiling at you from the corner of your eye.

“Well I’m gonna go get a drink, you want anything?” Mingyu asked.

“One of whatever pleeease.” 

He kissed the top of your head before standing up and exiting the basement. 

“So you know about the, you know, thing, right?” Chan asked once Mingyu was gone, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the seat of the couch.

“Th-the thing?” you questioned. You assumed he meant Mingyu being a vampire, but you weren’t sure if they knew he was as well.

“Yeah! Being dead, not being able to go out in the sunlight, can only be killed by wooden stakes, that stuff?” he said way more casually than you would’ve expected him to. 

“Yeah, yeah he told me about that,” you nodded, trying to match his level of calmness, “but is all of that really true?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

Every single one of them laughed out loud. 

“Well we’re dead, sure, but that’s about the only thing that’s accurate.” Jeonghan replied. Did he say… we?

“Wait… are you all-”

“Yeah, we are,” Vernon stopped you, “Jeonghan here is the oldest, then Mingyu, then me, then Chan.” 

You nodded in understanding, not really sure how to react. You now had an apparent vampire “boyfriend” who had 4 hot vampire friends. You wouldn’t have picked Twilight to be the book your life turned into, but admittedly you weren’t complaining. 

“So… does Seungkwan know too? Just so I know if I should bring it up or not.” 

“Yeah, he knows. He was really cool about it too.” a small smile made its way onto the 2nd youngest vampire’s face as Mingyu re-entered your corner with 2 red cups in his hand. He handed you one and you thanked him before he returned to his spot next to you. 

“Have there been people who weren’t cool about it?” you asked out of curiosity, not realizing the true weight of the question. Mingyu had a confused look on his face as the other 3 looked at each other, puzzled. 

“Well, yeah, but that never ends well, so we’re glad the two of you were accepting of it.” Jihoon told you, a dismissive look on his face. You so badly wanted to know exactly what he meant by that, but as it was only your first time meeting him, you didn’t push the topic.

You took a sip of your drink, your tastebuds instantly captivated by a yummy vodka and punch mixture. Mingyu returned his hand to your thigh, though this time on top of the jacket. 

“Is it okay if I ask how old you guys are? I thought Mingyu would be older than he actually was.” you told the group and they all chuckled. 

“I’m 212, give or take a few years. Keeping track gets hard after a while.” Jeonghan answered. You chuckled lightly before Vernon spoke up.

“I just turned 100. Not gonna lie it feels really cool to say that.” he smiled confidently at his own words. 

“I’m 22. I haven’t even been turned for a year yet, so I’m still learning,” he said shyly with a small shrug. He was so cute.

“You remember that crash you heard on the phone the other day?” Mingyu asked and you nodded. “That was him.” he pointed at Chan, causing Jeonghan to poke at him teasingly. 

“So Chan’s your roommate?” you turned to Mingyu and he nodded. You were really glad you got to meet his friends and you were really glad that they were nice. 

When your eyes left Mingyu, you saw Seungkwan walking toward your group. He had on a white sweater and black pants, his hair looking fluffy and as if it would be soft to the touch. 

Vernon stood up and greeted him with a hug before pecking his lips and plopping back down on the couch. Seungkwan took a seat on his boyfriend’s lap and Vernon wrapped his hands around Seungkwan’s waist. Their position caused your mind to flash back to when you saw Wonwoo and coffee girl, who you still refused to call by name, at the last party. You tried to suppress the memory as best as you could. 

“Seungkwan, this is Y/N.” Mingyu said as he motioned to you. Seungkwan’s jaw dropped slightly and pointed at you with his eyebrows furrowed, as if he was thinking, then he smiled.

“Oh you were with Wonwoo! At the party last weekend! How are you?” he asked cheerfully, getting up from Vernon’s lap and walking over to you. He bent down to give you a hug, and had you known that’s what he was doing you would have gotten up to greet him as well. You hugged him back as your heart fluttered at his kind gesture. You already hoped you could be friends with him. 

“I’m good, thanks. It’s really good to see you.” you said as he pulled away and his grin only widened. 

“You too!” you expected him to go back to where he was sitting, but he stayed standing in front of you. “Are you guys just gonna… sit here?” he asked, motioning to the small area you were sitting in with his hands. 

“I mean we could do something, but what?” Chan questioned.

“Oh! Let’s go play beer pong!” Mingyu came alive as he put his idea out in the open. You had never played it before, but as long as you were in good company, and you were, you didn’t care what you did. 

“I’m down. As long as you guys are prepared to lose.” Jeonghan said, his cocky side returning. 

“Me too. As long as you’re prepared for the ass beating I’m gonna give you when you cheat.” Mingyu spit back at Jeonghan, causing everyone except Jeonghan to laugh.

“Let’s go!” Vernon said before everyone stood up. Mingyu offered his hand to you and you took it, allowing him to pull you up with essentially no effort at all. You tied Jeonghan’s jacket around your waist and followed the others to the back patio.

The back of the house reeked of weed, but you hoped that your nose would simply get used to it. There was a ping pong table on the concrete, and right when you began to question where the beer pong stuff was, Vernon and Seungkwan appeared with cups, beer bottles, and ping pong balls in their hands. You asked if you could help set things up, but Mingyu insisted that you didn’t need to, so you stood back and admired Mingyu’s active form from a distance. 

With so many of them putting the game together, it was ready to play in no time. You were on a team with Mingyu and Seungkwan and were playing against Jeonghan, Jihoon and Chan. Vernon told the lot of you that he was fine being the referee. 

“Everybody play fair now,” Vernon said, not-so-subtly looking at Jeonghan longer than he looked at everyone else. The older male rolled his eyes at the glance and grabbed a ball, determination in his eyes as the game began.

The first round was atrocious for your team. You could tell Mingyu was doing his best to keep his cool as he knew you had never played before and knew that Seungkwan didn’t play often, but it was clear he was unhappy with the terrible result of the initial match. That led him to challenge the other team to a second game, in which you totally kicked ass. The opposing team tried to call it beginners luck, but as you’d already played one game, you knew it was just the fact that you’d finally gotten the hang of it, much to Mingyu’s delight. Seungkwan never really got better, which was okay. You learned that he’s an amazing cheerleader. 

The third game, however, was just one big mess. Jeonghan continuously smacked ping pong balls that were about to score a point away from the cups. He also kept moving cups around and when you accused him of cheating, him and the rest of his team would act like they had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. That being said, you lost the last game, though very unfairly, and decided to end the playing there before you, Mingyu and Seungkwan became too aggravated. 

You went back inside, all of you stopping in the kitchen to grab a drink before returning to the couch in the corner of the basement. You were only feeling slightly tipsy from the beer you had drank, and truthfully you didn’t want to get any further than that. 

This time around, Mingyu sat on the couch and pulled you down on his lap, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other around a beer bottle. Seungkwan sat next to you on Vernon’s lap, and Jihoon managed to squeeze onto the armrest by the wall.

You got caught up in conversation with the group, mostly talking to Seungkwan about how crazy finding out that vampires were real was for the both of you. Seungkwan said he freaked out a bit at first and was surprised to hear that you didn’t, but he understood. He said that though he was scared of everything he thought he knew about vampires as a species at the time, he wasn’t scared of Vernon in the slightest. You thought their relationship was really cute in an opposites attract type of way.

You also found out that Jihoon was really into writing music, Chan was really into dancing, and Jeonghan was really into simply having a good time. You were glad you got involved with a guy that seemed to have such great friends, even if they weren’t exactly alive. 

Though you were having a great time conversing with everyone, you noticed that Mingyu had barely said 3 words since you came back inside.

“Hey, you okay?” you said as you looked at him. He nodded passively as he looked past you and further into the room. The look on his face was serious, almost as if he was on the lookout for something. You turned around and tried to follow his eyeline. It seemed as if he was staring at another male attending the party, one that looked oddly familiar. 

“Do you know that guy? The guy you’re staring at?” you asked him quietly, not wanting the others to hear. 

“Uhh yeah, just someone I used to know. He doesn’t usually come to these types of things.” he replied. You turned back to the man and looked a little closer, trying to remember how you knew him.

“Oh!” you faced Mingyu again, “He’s the cashier from the supermarket I go to.” you said calmly, though Mingyu’s eyes darted to you as they widened. 

“You know him?” he asked urgently. 

“No, he just rang up my groceries one time. Why?” you were getting suspicious.

“I just… I don’t trust him, okay? Stay away from him if you can help it.” he gripped your waist tighter and you nodded reassuringly. Even though you, again, had many questions, you kept them to yourself. You mostly wondered if he meant “knew” as in he knew him from this school or if he meant “knew” as in he met him a century ago.

You turned to look at Mingyu’s nemesis one more time, but this time, his eyes were looking back at you. The small mole by his lip was only more defined as he smirked at you before running his hand through his light brown hair and turning away. Mingyu must have seen the exchange, because he very suddenly stood up, causing you to fall forward slightly. 

“I think Y/n and I are gonna head out.” he announced abruptly. Admittedly you were annoyed, you were having a good time, but you would address that when you left. It was getting late anyway and you knew you would see the group again sometime soon. 

“Oh! Okay, well it was really nice seeing you Y/n.” Seungkwan said, just as surprised as you were. 

“You too, Seungkwan. It was really great meeting all of you.” you said, and they all replied with scattered smiles and “you too’s”. 

Mingyu put his hand on the small of your back and quickly rushed you through the house and out the door. Once you reached the front porch, Mingyu stopped. 

“Listen, I’m sorry, I just really don’t like that guy and when he looked at you like that I snapped,” he said, clearly frazzled and a bit frustrated. Though just a few seconds ago you were ready to put him in his place, you were now feeling rather sympathetic.

“Mingyu it’s okay, but if you want me to understand what’s going on you need to tell me. Not knowing just makes it easier to get angry and I don’t wanna get angry at you.” you rubbed his arm comfortingly. He groaned as he hid his face in his hands then ran his hands through his hair. 

“I can’t tell you, at least right now. Believe me I want to, but please trust me okay? Avoid him at all costs, it’s just to keep you safe.” he pulled you into a hug and you wrapped your arms around him as well. You were beyond confused and you wanted to ask if he was really that dangerous, but with the way he was acting, you knew that was a stupid question. He wouldn’t be so adamant about it if it wasn’t that serious. You simply nodded against his chest before you let each other go. “Now let’s get you home.” he smiled sweetly and you returned the expression. 

You walked hand in hand to your apartment, a comfortable silence filling the air. You were admittedly a bit tired, so you didn’t feel like talking. The walk felt short, but as your eyelids felt heavier with each step, you were okay with it. You reached your residence and pulled out your key before unlocking the door and stepping inside. Though as soon as you did, you heard unmistakable noises. 

A female moan followed by a groan from your best friend. 

You immediately shut the door and stepped back outside, bumping into Mingyu in the process. 

“Ew ew ew ew ew!” you exclaimed, moving your hands around frantically, not exactly sure what to do with them. 

“What? What is it?” Mingyu asked frantically. 

“Wonwoo! Making noises! Having sex God ew!” you cringed.

“Huh? Are you sure? Why would he do that if he knew you were coming home?” 

“I don’t know but I hate it! Make it stop make it stop!” you covered your ears as if you could still hear it. The sounds kept playing over and over in your mind. Why? Why on earth could you still hear them? It wasn’t so much the fact that you heard him having sex, but the fact that you knew who it was with sent chills down your spine.

“Okay okay listen, just come home with me, it’ll be fine, I promise” he rubbed your upper back as he tried to comfort you. You simply nodded, face still contorted in disgust, and let him lead you to his apartment.

“God why would he do that?! He could’ve at least told me not to come home! Or to come home late, anything!” you yelled as you walked, still unable to believe his indecency. “I know we agreed to not talk about our love lives with each other, but if the roles were reversed? He’d be pissed! He would’ve walked in there and kicked you out or something!” 

“So what I’m hearing is that your hypothetical scenarios, I’m the one you’re fucking?” Mingyu said smugly and all you could do is glare at him.

“Mingyu I’m serious. Is that not super wrong of him?” 

“It is but come on! It’s not like you didn’t know he was getting some.” he shrugged. 

“I know, but I didn’t need to hear it, that’s all.” 

“What? Are you mad you’re not getting laid? Cause you could be.” Mingyu said matter-of-factly, a smirk on his face. 

“Oh really? By who, Jeonghan?” you teased, causing Mingyu to stop in his tracks, his jaw nearly on the ground. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Come on! You know I’m joking. Now please tell me we’re almost there?” you grabbed his hand and pulled, his feet eventually stumbling forward. 

“Actually, we’re here.” he smiled. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked ahead, your eyes only being met with a cute, white brick house.

“You live… in a house? In college?” you tilted your head in curiosity. 

“Let’s just say I have business with the owner,” he kissed your cheek and walked you toward the door. Though the outside of the house had a vintage charm to it, there was a keypad to get inside instead of the normal deadbolt. Mingyu entered the code and turned the handle, a beautiful, modern house coming into view. 

The brick walls were a beautiful cream color, metal shelves and cute hanging plants filled the entrance. Your face must have shown how impressed you were.

“You like it?” Mingyu asked as he kicked his shoes off. 

“It’s beautiful, did you decorate it yourself?” 

“Oh no, we hired someone for that.” he chuckled. 

“You care enough about your house to pay for an interior designer? Nice.” you smiled as you took your shoes off as well, sliding them so they were next to his. 

“I’m a vampire, not an animal. Let me give you the tour.”

You exited the entrance of the house and he took you over to the kitchen. It was very open and was connected to the living room. The kitchen had sleek black cabinets and white granite countertops with a large stainless steel refrigerator and stove to finish it off. The living room contained a grey sectional couch, a black coffee table, and a TV that was at least 60 inches mounted to the wall. There were small knick knacks all over the house that made it even more charming than it already was. 

He then led you down a hallway that had 2 doors on each side. The first one was Chan’s room. It was definitely the room of a young guy, but still pretty neat and tidy. The next room was the bathroom, it doubled as Chan’s and the one that guests used. It was also nicely kept. 

The next one was another bedroom that had been converted into a movie/ gaming room. There were LED lights attached to the ceiling, a leather couch in the center of the room, and a TV even larger than the one in the living room sitting on a large, sturdy- looking table.

“This is my old room, but we renovated it when I upgraded.” 

“Upgraded?” you asked, excited to finally see Mingyu’s room.

“There’s a third bedroom that we added onto to make it bigger, so I took that one.” he told you as he closed the door and led you to the last room in the hallway. 

“Prepare yourself.” he smiled as he opened the door and a room seemingly bigger than the rest of the house combined came into view. 

The floors were a dark grey tile and the walls a lighter grey. There was a bed to the left and it was easily the biggest bed you’d ever seen. The headboard was a regal looking, plush white one with a perfectly made grey bedspread, decorative pillows covering almost half of it. A TV was mounted to the wall in front of it and there were nightstands with beautiful metal lamps on them. There was a chandelier in the middle of the ceiling, and to the right there were 2 chaise lounges that matched the bed frame and another TV in an entertainment center with a gaming console below it.

“Two TV’s? Really?” you judged only slightly. 

“And that’s not even the best part.” he booped your nose and sauntered over to the bathroom; the entrance was covered by a large barn door. He slid it opened and what was quite possibly the nicest bathroom you’d ever seen came into view. 

The walls were a matte tan color, there was a large white bathtub in one corner, a shower with glass doors and the walls decorated with beautiful glass tiles. A double vanity and a wood-framed mirror sat in between the two. The shower head was about a foot long on each side and hung from the ceiling and there seemed to be jets of some sort on one of the shower walls

“So when were you going to tell me that you basically have money coming out of your ass?” you inquired as you took in the elegance of the bathroom. Mingyu didn’t dress rich and wasn’t as much of a dick as lots of rich people were, so you were taken aback to say the least.

“Technically it’s not my money. My parents were rich back in the day, owned a lot of property, and when they died they left all of it to me. So now all the money that people pay when they rent or buy their properties, it comes to me.” he shrugged as if it was no big deal, but your eyes were wide in shock. 

“Okay then Mr. ‘not-my-money’, this place is still amazing.” you told him, but he just chuckled in denial. 

“Thanks,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Do you wanna shower or something?” 

“Um, in that fancy monster of a shower? Yes, yes I do.” you smiled and Mingyu was already walking over to the closet like he knew what you were going to say. He opened the door and grabbed a towel before tossing it at you. 

“Don’t take too long,” he pointed at you as he exited the bathroom and left you alone. You felt like you’d only seen showers this nice in movies and in pictures of mansions, never in real life, so needless to say you were excited. You turned the water on and stripped down quickly before excitedly stepping into what your mind had decided to coin the Tranquility Haven. 

The warm water that fell from directly above you felt euphoric, covering your entire body at once. You honestly felt like you could fall asleep in there, but sadly you did not feel like turning into a prune. You washed yourself leisurely, enjoying the luxury and anticipating the fact that you would probably smell like Mingyu when you were done.

Your mind thought back to when Mingyu said his parents owned property “back in the day”. Did he mean… the 1800’s? His parents were rich in the 19th century? If they were loaded then, you couldn’t imagine how loaded they’d be now. You wanted to know how much Mingyu was making from his parents’ properties, but you would feel inappropriate asking. You knew it had to be a lot, though. 

After a while, you begrudgingly turned off the water and stepped out of the shower before grabbing your towel. You dried your hair off a bit before wrapping the towel around your body and stepping into Mingyu’s room.

“I’m just saying, she could be doing way be- Jesus Y/n!” Chan yelled as he stood up and turned around. He had been sitting on Mingyu’s bed talking until he saw you and jumped up in fear. 

“We’ll be out in a minute,” Mingyu laughed as he ushered the younger male out of his bedroom. He turned to you and leaned against the door, his arms crossed.

“See you didn’t give me clean clothes when I slept at your place, so I’m wondering if I should even consider giving you some.” he raised his eyebrow at you, his tongue poking at his inner cheek. 

“What? You want me to walk around in just a towel?” 

“Oh I’d prefer much less than a towel,” he retaliated, causing you to frown at him. After a few seconds of staring at each other, he finally broke. “Fine, but only since Chan is here.” your expression turned into a smile as he walked over to his closet that seemed surprisingly small compared to the rest of the house. He pulled out a t-shirt and handed it to you as he walked back to his bed and laid down. You thanked him and went back into the bathroom.

You hung the towel up on the hook that was on the back of the door before slipping the shirt over your head. You put your underwear back on and picked up your clothes and bag from off of the floor, then walked over to the mirror. As you ran your fingers through your wet hair in an attempt to make it look decent, you realized something. 

“Mingyu!” you stormed out of the bathroom, “This shirt is pretty see through and I’m guessing you knew that when you gave it to me?” you put your things down on the ground and crossed your arms. All Mingyu did was shrug and try to hold back the smirk he so badly wanted to display. “Whatever…” you muttered as you took your phone out of your bag.

“Chan’s waaaaiting.” he sang, getting up and waiting for you by the door. You kept your arms crossed, phone in one hand, as you followed him to the living room. 

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t see anything, Mingyu didn’t tell me you were here.” Chan said frantically as soon as you came into view, his eyes full of concern. 

“No no no, it’s fine. Really, don’t worry about it.” you reassured him, and he nodded gratefully. 

Mingyu sat down on the couch and you sat next to him. He laid down and rested his head on your lap, causing you to frantically pull at your shirt, trying to loosen the top part so that Chan wouldn’t see anything. Once you had accomplished that, you placed your hand in Mingyu’s hair and began playing with it, only slightly annoyed at his outfit choice for you. 

You made interesting conversation with Chan, talking about what he liked and didn’t like about being a vampire for the most part. He asked about how you liked school and if you had fun at the party, and before either of you realized it, Mingyu was fast asleep on your lap. A light snore fell from his lips and you admired his calmed features. 

“Y/n…” Chan said, capturing your attention, “Can I ask how serious you guys are?” your cheeks heated up at the question. No one had ever really asked you about your relationship before, besides the whole ‘is this the girlfriend’ thing that Jeonghan pulled, and he was talking to Mingyu then anyway. 

“Um, I don’t really know. It hasn’t been very long, but I… I really like him.” you tried not to gush too much, “Why do you ask?” 

Chan was smiling at your admiration for his friend. “Mingyu would kill me if he knew that I told you, but he talks about you a lot. Like, almost all the time. I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it, but yeah. I’ve only known him for 6 years or so, but I’ve never seen him like this.” he explained, and your cheeks turned even rosier as your stomach did somersaults. Chan didn’t seem like the type of guy to lie, and why would anyone say something like that so randomly if they weren’t really eager to tell you?

“I- thank you for telling me, Chan. It means a lot.” you nodded and he smiled at you, flashing his pearly whites.

“Of course. I’m gonna go to bed now, but I’m glad we got to talk more. You seem really good for him. Good for all of us actually.” he stood up and stretched. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” 

Chan disappeared into his room and you just sat there, reveling in Chan’s kind words and not wanting to wake Mingyu. You picked up your phone, feeling surprised when you saw you had a text from Wonwoo. It was only one, but that was enough to make you nervous and excite you all at once. You opened the message and were faced with a few simple words. 

from: wonu

12:34am: did you stop by earlier? 

You simply rolled your eyes and began typing. 

to: wonu

12:34am: yeah and i know we agreed not to talk about our love lives or whatever, but you could at least tell me to sleep somewhere else for the night if you were planning on fucking someone. loudly.

He read your text immediately and the three bubbles popped up at the bottom of your screen, indicating that he was typing. However, the longer you waited for his response, the more you realized that it likely wasn’t coming. You were much more unpleasant with him than you wanted to be, but the noises you heard when you entered your apartment weren’t by any means pleasant either. Truthfully, you wanted to say more, but you figured you’d rather have that conversation in person.

At a few minutes past 1, you decided it was time to stop anticipating a reply from Wonwoo and try to sleep. You locked your phone and set it beside you before leaning your head back on the couch and drifting off to sleep, the feeling of Mingyu’s head in your lap making the position significantly more comfortable. 

You woke up with your head on the softest of pillows and your body under the comfiest of blankets; Mingyu must have moved the both of you at some point during the night. A decent amount of light shone through the windows and the soft sound of the television rang throughout your ears. You looked to your side and saw Mingyu sitting with his legs crossed, eating a bowl of cereal. He noticed your stirring and turned his attention to you. 

“Good morning,” he said to you, mouth halfway full and in the shape of a smile. You returned the expression and sat up on your hands. 

“Good morning.” you replied happily. He leaned over and pecked your lips lightly. As you went to get out of his bed, you remembered something. 

“Did you say I was your girlfriend last night?” you asked in disbelief. He looked at you with wide eyes, his cheeks still slightly full of food.

“I- well, yeah. That seemed to be the best way to explain it, we’ve never really talked about it.” he shrugged shyly. 

“Well, do you wanna talk about it?” you questioned as you got back in his bed fully, sliding closer to him. 

He shoved the rest of his cereal in his mouth and drank the milk quickly before setting his bowl and spoon on the table beside him. He sighed as he faced you again.

“It has nothing to do with you, I just, don’t really like labels? Every time I’ve had a relationship with one it just kinda… fell apart.” he played with the blanket on his legs and avoided eye contact, his voice only getting quieter as he spoke. “I want us to last, so I don’t wanna call us anything. At least not yet.” He nodded as he finished, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes and awaiting your response. 

You smiled at his explanation and put one of your hands on top of his. “So other people can think our relationship has a label, but we know that it doesn’t?” you asked and Mingyu nodded. “Is that enough? Just us knowing the truth?” 

“I really don’t care what other people call us, so yeah. It’s enough.” he smiled sweetly and got out of bed. You followed suit and went to change your clothes as Mingyu picked up his bowl and walked it to the kitchen. 

You quickly threw on your clothes from the previous night and slipped on your shoes. You picked up your bag and noticed that Mingyu had placed your phone on the nightstand. You grabbed it and checked the notifications; still no response from Wonwoo, though you weren’t surprised. 

“Leaving so soon?” Mingyu asked with a pout when he reentered the room and saw you fully dressed. You frowned, not particularly wanting to leave yourself.

“Sadly. I’ve gotta pick up some stuff for the apartment and do some serious job hunting. I’ve been putting it off for way too long.” you sighed. Your words left Mingyu with a confused look on his face.

“Job? Why get a job when you have me?” he wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Oh you mean you and all the money that you don’t claim as yours? Thanks, but I’ll pass.” you pecked his lips and as soon as you pulled away, he pulled you right back in. He kissed you deeply and meaningfully, causing you to smile. He smacked your ass lightly before pulling away with a smirk.

“I’ll walk you out.” 

You rolled your eyes, though trying to hide a smile, as you headed for Mingyu’s front door. Chan was nowhere to be seen, so you assumed he was still asleep. When you reached the entrance of the house, Mingyu kissed you one last time before opening the door for you and, begrudgingly, letting you go on your way. 

You practically pranced to the grocery store, still on a Mingyu high that you didn’t want to come down from. You couldn’t believe someone, just one person alone, made you so happy, especially since that someone was technically not even human and kept way more secrets from you than you would like them to. You didn’t know why the secrecy didn’t bother you, but you didn’t think about it for too long. 

Your brain that seemed to be wired so that you would expect the worst from every situation because you were also subconsciously awaiting the moment when things would turn to shit. It may not go to complete shit anytime soon, but you were definitely expecting an argument of some sort to happen soon, much to your dismay.

You tried to shake your negative thoughts away as you approached the door of the supermarket, picking up one of the baskets that sat by the entrance. You only needed a few cleaning supplies, some fruit, and some more ramen. You decided you would take your time, though, as you were slightly nervous to see Wonwoo. 

You strolled through the produce, deciding on buying a few apples and a bag of grapes. You then moved to the aisle that the ramen was on, buying 2 value packs of your favorite brand. You finally made your way to the cleaning aisle and grabbed a container of disinfecting wipes, but you couldn’t seem to find the dish soap that you usually bought. You looked at the shelf curiously and took a step closer, when suddenly, you heard a voice speaking to you.

“Need any help?” you heard. It was a sweet sounding voice, one that definitely belonged to a male. You turned your head toward the voice and nearly jumped when you saw who it belonged to; it was the guy from the party. The one that had rung up your groceries a few weeks ago, the one Mingyu told you to stay away from. 

“O-oh, no thanks, I’m okay.” you replied. You hoped he didn’t recognize you, but then you remembered you were wearing the exact same thing that you were wearing last night when he saw you. When he smirked at you. 

“I apologize if this is weird, but you’re much prettier up close.” he smiled and you felt your cheeks heat up slightly, but hopefully not enough to be noticeable. You decided to play it off like you didn’t know him, figuring that’s what Mingyu would want you to do.

“Sorry? I-I don’t think we’ve ever met.” you said, hoping he would give up and leave you alone.

“Ah you don’t remember? I was at the party last night, I’m pretty sure we saw each other.” he crossed his arms with a determined look on his face, but you just shrugged, wanting your conversation to end more than anything. 

“Well, anyway, my name is Jun. Let me know if you need anything, anything at all.”

hi everyone! i’m so, so sorry i was late uploading this, everything totally glitched out. but i hope you all enjoyed this chapter :) and if any of you beloved readers haven’t already, please fill out this survey regarding content you’d like to see from me! thank you all & stay safe <3 https://forms.gle/rEWqGcTckFvDBULa9

#mingyu #wonwoo #minwon #meanie #mingyu vampire au #wonwoo college au #wonwoo fic #wonwoo imagine #wonwoo scenario #mingyu fic #mingyu imagine #mingyu scenario #seventeen #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios

[wowweeharrystyles]

Part 10 | Love & Villas in Italy | 6.8k words

Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9 

Masterlist

a/n: hello friends ! sending all the love to you in the crazyyyyy time we live in. getting focused on writing has been a big help to keep me sane this past week so I hope if you do read this that it’ll help distract you from the craziness too. - lots of love to @niallhoranapologist​ for consistently giving me ideas & listen to me ramble on & on about Aurora & Harry 💕

Alrightyyyyyyy here’s part 10 ! 

Aurora has seen Harry in every single one of these looks but still, night after night, she fawns over them. In Hong Kong, the stars and lightning that are rhinestoned onto the velvet Givenchy suit turns him into a real life disco ball when the lights come up. Sparkles and bright sparks of light covered his face through the entire show. Manila and Singapore’s looks graced the world with the glory of Harry’s swallow tattoos. Both the Harris Reed and St Laurent shirt dipped low and flowed with his movement on stage. Aurora couldn’t help but admire the way his chest and shoulders had bulked from the past 2 months of training. She paid extra attention to his collarbones, the tattoos littered across his shoulders and the swell between his pecs both of those nights as she helped him get ready.

Aurora could tell, night after night, before and after the show that he was growing exhausted. The circles under his eyes were getting darker, harder to cover up. He had to stop talking so much when he wasn’t on stage, drinking even more hot tea than normal. After the show in Osaka Aurora kissed him goodnight after taking care of his suit and readying the wardrobe cases to be moved to the next Arena. 

“Will you stay with me tonight?” He asked quietly, not letting go of her hand. Aurora had been staying in her own hotel room during the Asia leg of tour, both of them deciding to drag out the honeymoon phase of their relationship. Anyways, both of them actually enjoy time on their own and neither of them were ready to pretty much “live together” cause that’s what it started feeling like. 

Aurora looks up to him and squeezes his hand. Her eyes rounded, eyebrows lifting up only a little, almost like she was surprised by the helpless look on Harry’s face. 

“I’m so tired but by the time my brain slows down enough for me to fall asleep I have to be up again. I fall asleep right away when you’re there,” his voice is soft. “S’much easier when you hold me and play with my hair,” he barely whispers, looking down to where their hands are intertwined, like he’s embarrassed by the admission. 

Aurora drops his hand and cups his cheek delicately. Her lips are soft against his. She nods slowly at him when he opens his eyes. She kisses the opposite cheek her hand is holding. Her bag in one hand and Harry’s jacket in the other, she offers it to him. He slips his arms in it, tossing his phone in the pocket and throwing his own bag over his shoulder. He opens his mouth to say something, but Aurora offers her hand out to him and speaks. “Come on, baby, lets go.” 

Harry feels his chest heave. His throat tightens like he’s going to cry. He clears his throat and swallows deliberately. Aurora leads them through the hallways, wishing goodnight to everyone she passes. He’s on vocal rest for the most part, so Harry not giving full goodbyes to everyone isn’t questioned. If Harry tried to speak he’s sure he’d have tears fall from his eyes. The mix of exhaustion, a sore throat and the swell of fondness in his chest are a perfect mix to heighten Harry’s emotions. The car ride is silent as they sit in the backseat of the blacked out car. Harry’s head rests on Aurora’s shoulder. She holds his hands in her lap, twirling his rings back and forth. 

Aurora is quick to wash her face and brush her teeth once they get to Harry’s hotel room. She joins him in the big, oversized bed covered in layers of white linens. Aurora pulls at the sheets until they tug loose from the tight tucking at the corners and discards some of the unnecessarily stiff sheets. Harry finds these actions endearing, now realising she does this in every hotel room. She tosses the extra pillows away as well, commenting that she’s thankful she didn’t pick up the habit of bringing her own pillow with her like her mother does. Harry laughs at that, the first and only time that night. 

Aurora lays down on her side facing Harry, holding up the sheet and blanket that are left, Harry lays in the empty space. Tossing the covers over Harry's body, she moves as close to him as she can. Propping herself up on her forearm, she peers over to catch his eyes. She moves a rogue curl from his face and leans down to kiss him on the lips one last time for the night. After switching off the light on her side of the bed she settles behind him, his back to her front. Aurora hooks a leg over Harry  and when her hand is in his hair, softly running her nails against his scalp he sinks into her chest and in turn, further into the mattress. When his eyes flutter for the last time, closing completely as he falls asleep, Aurora presses a kiss to his shoulder landing near the ‘A’.

She continues to run her hands through his thick curls for a while longer. She watches as his pink lips part as slow, even breaths fall in and out. His features are completely relaxed. It's the first time in almost a week that she’s seen his face without a permanent furrow to his brows. Once she knows he lost deep in sleep, she wraps her once busy hand around his torso, hooks her chin between the base of his neck and shoulder and falls asleep with him. 

The final night of the Asia leg of tour was long and Harry was counting down the hours till he could crash onto the almost familiar bed in his favourite villa in Rome. Aurora and Harry take a car straight to the Tokyo airport from the arena after saying goodbye to their friends for the next 10 days. Sarah and Mitch are going back to london to get some rest, Adam is going back home to his wife and kids. Most of the crew are London based so they’ll head home too before they pack back up to start the 2nd half of tour. 

Both Harry and Aurora are clad in their own black World Tour 2018 hoodies, their hoods pulled up all the way. The airport is pretty quiet, given it being past midnight. Harry’s security leads the couple to the private lounge while they wait for their flight to board. Harry dozes off while waiting and Aurora facetimes her parents as it’s morning back in New York. She paces the almost empty lounge while she talks to her parents on Facetime. Her mom catches a glimpse of Harry’s sleeping figure in the background which sparks several questions. Saved by the bell, Sean, Harry’s head of security calls her name and says it’s time to board. Aurora says goodbye and hangs up before waking Harry. The 3 of them grab their carry on bags, Harry and Aurora following Sean to the terminal. 

Aurora wishes she wasn't so tired so she could properly enjoy her first time in first class but her and Harry barely get out a sentence to each other before they're both asleep.

| | | | | 

They’re ushered into a large black SUV when they land in Rome. Harry instinctively grabs Aurora’s bag, tossing his own over his shoulder and reaches for her hand when they’re dropped off at the villa. The sun is out and the almost 13 hour flight helping the dark circles begin to disappear. Aurora’s eyes widen when she pulls her focus from Harry’s broad back. In front of her is a cream brick house. She’s never seen a house this big. Well, it’s called a villa for a reason, she laughs to herself. Opening the front door after turning the key in the lock, Harry pulls Aurora inside. 

Setting the bags down near the staircase that is directly in front of the front door, Harry turns around. Aurora’s eyes haven’t changed since she got here. They’re wide with wonder and awe. 

“I’ve never-” she doesn’t finish her sentence. Her eyes dark around the beautiful home. 

“I know it’s obnoxiously big, I swear I’m not trying to be like that, but it’s my favourite place in Italy. I normally come here with a big group, so it makes sense then,” he stops himself from rambling. “I wanted to share it with you,” he says once he’s got his arms wrapped around Aurora’s waist. 

“Harry, it’s beautiful,” she almost whispers, entranced by the details and the feeling that is sitting in the pit of her stomach. It’s almost the same feeling she had when she walked into Harry’s London home. Her hands hold onto his biceps as she takes one more look around before looking at Harry. “Thank you for bringing me here.” 

| | | | | 

They’re sitting on the floor of the living room, an old unique rug underneath them. Fresh mugs of tea are steaming in their hands. They are facing the big picture window that looks out onto the grounds of the villa. The sunset cast the perfect light into the cozy room. 

“What scares you the most?” Harry’s voice breaks the silence. 

Aurora looks at Harry and lets out a breath. She pulls her lips in between her teeth, thinking. She knows what scares her. She’s got plenty of fears, most are silly and she knows those are her brain messing with her. But, the thing that scares her most? “Never feeling comfortable in myself.”

“Ror,” Harry says with small laugh, “you’re so confident though, and so sure in what you know and-”

“No,” she cuts him off, she shakes her head, focusing on the swirl of the hot tea in her mug, thankful their backs are to the sofa, so she doesn’t have to look at him right now. “I don’t think it's the confidence and I’ve been pretending to know things since I could talk. Ask my mom,” she lets out a short laugh then pauses before getting to her point. “I can fake being confident and knowing what I’m doing. I’m really good at it. I’m scared I’ll never actually be comfortable in myself enough and that I’ll have to fake it forever. That I’ll go through my entire life playing pretend with myself, overthinking every move.” Aurora doesn't dare look at Harry’s face, instead she trains her eyes on the darkening horizon in front of her. 

“You never feel fake to me,” Harry encourages. Aurora sighs. 

“I’ve had a lot of practice, never really come off fake, I guess?” Aurora thinks about where she wants this conversation to go. It’s Harry after all and this villa feels like a world away from everything else. “I’ve got a lot to work on still, but it is getting easier.” She sets her mug down and turns to Harry. “I feel comfortable when I’m with you,” she admits. Harry’s eyes light up. “I’ve never felt this comfortable in myself or with someone in a long time.” Harry leans over the small space between them and lands his lips on the top of Aurora’s cheek. 

“Come ‘ere,” he says, setting his mug down and then motioning to the space between his legs. Aurora smiles softly as she moves on the rug. She reciprocates his actions and kisses his cheek quickly before leaning her back against his chest. 

As they get comfortable again, he wraps his arms around her torso and she rests her hands on top of his. She lets her breathing match his, their chests rising and falling at the same time. She sinks further into his chest, fully relaxing as his hot breath hits the top of her ear a few times. 

“What scares you?” she tosses his question back. Harry nudges his nose into Aurora’s hair, kisses the skin behind her ear and then sighs. 

Harry begins to move Aurora’s hair off her neck as he speaks, “M’scared of not knowing who I really am, or could be.” He kisses the back of Aurora’s neck softly and it makes Aurora squirm. His motions are so light they barely feel real. “The time where I was meant to be figuring that out was the busiest, craziest time of my life. I’m afraid I’ll never get that time to discover myself, back.” 

“If it counts for anything,” Aurora speaks up, leaning to the side so she can peer back at Harry, “I think you’re pretty great.” Harry laughs lightly. “Seriously though, it can’t be easy to do all that in the public eye, but it seems like you’re getting there. I studied fashion so that’s where I can pinpoint it easily, it’s where I see people express themselves and feel like I can really see who someone is through their clothes. That’s why I feel in love with it in the first place.” Aurora kisses the edge of Harry’s jaw, noticing how it had tensed up. He lets out a breath. “And even though I’ve only really known you for a short amount of time I can see the transition and the coming into your own through your clothes. Saw it happen years ago and it just continues.” She twists her body around more so she can really look at him. “I can see it on your face when you’ve got something on that you feel so incredibly confident in, singing your own songs, the music you made. It’s hard to describe what I see night after night, but,” she stutters, unsure how to word the feeling that flutters in her chest every time she sees him perform on stage. “It may not feel like it to you, but I think you’re doing a pretty good job of figuring out who you are.” She kisses the corner of his mouth, where it ticks up in a smile first. “Always a work in progress though,” she adds. 

Harry’s eyes gleamed. The sun has set fully now and the flicks of light from the few candles they lit earlier in the evening create a warm glow throughout the room. It doesn’t take Aurora long to cradle Harry’s shadowed face in her hands and pulls kiss after kiss from him.

Harry’s arms engulf Aurora and she’s pulled tight to his chest, their legs tangled together. Their mugs of tea go cold long before they remember them. After tossing the cold tea down the sink they make their way up to the master bedroom and retire for the evening. 

| | | | |

Aurora’s eyes light up when she steps out of the car and onto the beautiful grounds of the Villa Lante. Through the large, innately carved, moss covered arc Aurora can see an expansive green filled garden. A woman with a clipboard says hello to Harry and it seems that he’s worked with her before. Harry takes the initiative to introduce Aurora. The woman checks her list and ushers them under the Arc pointing out the row of makeshift white tents set up to the right of the fountain in front of them. 

Harry Lambert is waiting outside one of the tents when the couple make their way in. Lambert greets them both and immediately Harry is pulled off to get to hair and makeup. 

“How’s Italy treating you so far?” Lambert asks as he brings her into the tent that is housing the several rolling racks of clothes. 

“It’s lovely,” Aurora answers before she’s fully distracted by the clothes in front of her. She runs her hands over the intricate details of each flower that’s stitched onto one of the jackets. 

Lambert begins to go over the lay of the land and walk Aurora through the schedule for the day. In about an hour, Harry should be done in hair and makeup and come to them to get dressed. Aurora and Lambert begin to pull together an outfit for the first scene. They opt to start out simple and prep a solid cloudy grey jacket and lilac shirt and trousers. 

Harry enters almost exactly an hour later, a tray of coffees in his hand and someone follows behind carrying another tray. There’s enough for everyone floating in and out of the tent. 

“Here ya go, Ror,” Harry says, grabbing the one he’s written her name on. She thanks him as she always does. She’s nervous to say the least, but the familiarity of Harry bringing her a coffee eases the nerves a little. 

Once Harry’s dressed in the suit, Lambert and Aurora take a step back to make any adjustments needed. Harry’s hair is the longest it’s been in a while and the stylists have got it set and curled just right. Aurora remembers a gold hair piece she saw earlier on the table. Grabbing it, she hovers it over Harry's head to see what Lambert thinks before placing it in his hair. 

“Yes, absolutely,” Lambert approves. 

As aurora rounds to the front of Harry to face him he purses his lips, suppressing a smile. She rolls her eyes minutely at his hidden expression and focuses on the task on hand. Twisting the crownlike headband in her hand she lets out a huff. 

“Will ya bend down for me, Har?” He does as he’s asked and smiles up at her through his eyelashes. She scrunches her nose at him as she tries to hide a smile now. 

She places the gold crown on his head, adjusts it lightly and moves one curl so it doesn’t cover the detail at the center of it. 

“You look like a prince,” she comments, only loud enough for Harry to hear. 

| | | | |  

“Ya really think I looked like a prince?” Harry asks from where he’s standing across the kitchen, glass of wine in his hand. 

Aurora’s busy at the stove top as she laughs at him. “You’re not gonna let this go, huh?” she asks as she turns around. The blue apron she has tied around her waist is starting to get dirty as she moves through the recipe she has pulled up on her phone. 

Her and Harry had stopped at the local shop to get food for the week and Aurora offered to make dinner for the 2 of them tonight. When they got back and Aurora started cooking Harry was instructed that his only job was to drink wine once the groceries were put away. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying watching Aurora work around the kitchen. 

Harry shakes his head, “Definitely not going to let it go,” he answers. Sipping his wine he walks over to Aurora. “So what are we having?” Harry thinks he could do this the rest of his life. Sneaking away on trips with Rory, watching her move around an unfamiliar kitchen like it’s her own, sharing quiet evenings and all that consumes their heads like they did the night before. 

“It’s my dad's recipe, toasted ravioli, but I’ve never made it with fresh made ravioli, only ever frozen. The first few might be failures, we’ll see.” 

“Smells good!” Harry compliments, resting his hip against the counter, smiling at her. 

“My dad always made it for big occasions or celebrations growing up. Now he’ll make it when all of us are home, still kind of a celebration then, I guess.” 

“What’re we celebrating?” 

“Hmmm,” Aurora begins, “not sure, guess I just wanted to make you dinner.” 

“How about we celebrate this?” Aurora’s eyebrows knit together in confusion but before she can get out a word he’s connecting their lips.

The kiss is languid and passionate. Aurora sets the utensil she had in her hand on the counter so she can wrap her arms around his shoulders. Harry pulls away and rests his forehead against hers. 

“I love you.” 

Aurora’s eyes go wide and she feels tears prickle at her waterline and squeezes her eyes shut. She opens them just as quickly. A flush creeps up on her face as Harry’s eyes bore into her own, his green iris’ full of nothing but compassion and love. Aurora kisses him quickly so she can relay her feelings and get the 3 exact same words out to him. 

“I love you, too,” she whispers against his lips. 

They would stand there in the kitchen kissing for the rest of the night if the oil didn’t start spattering in the deep pot barely a foot behind Aurora. She lets out a surprised “oh,” both of them jumping at the sound. She pulls away from him, regrettably, to attend to the hot oil and the food that needs to be cooked. She sucks in a deep breath, her head a bit dizzy and lets it out as she turns the burner down just a notch before dropping the first few breaded raviolis in the oil. 

Harry presses a kiss to her cheek as she watches the pot and then sits back on a stool nearby to watch her make dinner. She turns her head to him and sees him shamelessly watching her every move. Neither of them say anything. They mirror each other’s smiles. Harry smiles Aurora’s favourite smile. The one where his lips turn up so much that his gums show, his nose scrunches up and the crinkle from his nose melt into the ones that appear at his eyes. His dimples are deep and the shimmer to his eyes is nothing but another way of proving he is her sunshine. 

They eat dinner on the patio in the backyard of the villa, finishing a full bottle of wine by the time they finish dinner. Harry grabs a new bottle and a blanket from inside when they move from the table to the lounge chair that faces the same sunset they watched the night before. 

The light breeze and repeated whispers of ‘I love you’ back and forth are the only sounds as they watch the sun set. Aurora snuggles into Harry even more as he begins to softly sing ‘Leather and Lace.” 

She falls asleep against him and Harry happily carries her up to bed. One last exchange of “I love you”s is all that is needed before they’re both fast asleep. 

| | | | |

“I get why you sit with me while I get ready, now,” Harry comments, talking only loud enough to be heard over Aurora’s music that’s playing softly from her phone. Aurora smiles at him in the mirror. He is sitting on a velvet covered vanity seat that was tucked away in the corner of the master bathroom until Harry pulled it out to sit with Aurora. 

He admires how her delicate fingers apply her makeup. He can’t help but smile while he watches her. The red floral wrap dress she has on moves slightly as she sways along to the music, singing along every so often. 

“Okay, all done!” she announces. She’s got a look on her face like she’s proud of herself and she is. She’s always enjoyed taking the time to do her make up and she’s particularly thrilled with how her eyeliner turned out today. 

Harry follows her to the bedroom where their stuff is scattered around. She grabs her purse and tosses it on the bed. Last night, courtesy of Gucci, both her and Harry were sent an array of boxes and bags. She pulls the latest gucci tote out of a fresh box and sets it on the bed. Before transferring her belongings from her old, torn up purse she runs her fingers over the freshly embroidered monogram. AMDG is embroidered in red thread - Aurora Marie Del Gatto. 

Once she packs her things into their place she pulls the bag over her shoulder and looks at herself in the mirror. The red lipstick she put on matches her dress and the monogram letters perfectly and her small heeled boots give her a boost of confidence. 

“You look beautiful, Rory,” Harry says as he sees her reflection in the large mirror. Harry places a hand on her waist and kisses the crown of her head. 

“Thank you,” she says with a sweet smile. Aurora turns to Harry and gives him an unexpected hug. He has a look of surprise on his face when they pull apart. “I’m just really grateful for all of this,” she explains. 

“I didn’t buy you the purse, Ror,” he chuckles. 

“No, I know that. I’m grateful for this opportunity, for being in Italy, just being here with you in general.” Harry kisses her swiftly. Harry shushes her before she continues. 

“We’ve still got 2 more days of shooting left, things could go downhill from here,” he jokes, “and you’ve got 3 more days of being here with me and then we’ve got another half of tour to go through. You’ve gotta be sick of me.” 

“Could never be sick of you,” she says, running a hand through his hair. 

“and why’s that?” he counters. 

“‘Cause I love you, that’s why.” That answer earns a kiss. 

“Love you too, Rory,” he says with red stained lips. 

| | | | | 

Harry’s body becomes flush with Aurora’s as he backs her up into the tall hedge. His hands have a strong hold on her hips and Aurora’s given up trying to push him away, letting her hands sneak around his neck. 

“Someone is going to find us, Harry,” Aurora giggles into his lips. 

“Alessandro called the end of the day, everyone is packing up and leaving. Nobody will find us,” he rushes out so he can press another bruising kiss to her lips. 

There’s something about an ancient garden and sneaking around through a maze of tall hedges that is so romantic and thrilling at the same time. The hedges rustles as the wind blows through them and birds chirp in the late afternoon sun. 

Harry toys at the bow tied at Aurora’s waist and she squeals when she feels it come loose. She yelps his name as he kisses at her collarbone. Her hands move from his chest to her dress that is daringly close to fall open completely. She ties it quickly and Harry’s hands rush to stop hers. 

“Stop,” she whines, “I don’t have anything underneath.” Harry pulls away immediately and groans at her confession. His jaw drops. “Don’t give me that look, I just don’t have a bra on. Don’t need one with this dress.” She kisses the dopey look off his face. His grip on her isn’t as strong so she takes the opportunity to push him against the hedges now. She laughs at the vision in front of her. Harry’s once perfect hair is a mess and his mouth is covered in Aurora’s red lipstick. She uses her thumb to try to wipe some of it away but has no luck. “I should have some makeup wipes in my bag,” she giggles. 

“Don’t worry about that now, I’m not finished,” Harry says as he surges forward, connecting their lips together. 

Their laughter fills the air of Villa Lante as they chase each other around the garden, sneaking kisses behind the tall hedges. Aurora doesn’t think she’s felt this carefree and joyous in years. She feels like a kid running around a park without a worry in the world and she’s happily sharing this feeling with Harry. 

| | | | |

The last day of the shoot has to be Aurora’s favourite. There’s 2 suit changes and Harry looks even more like a prince with his rogue curl falling out of where the rest of his curls are pulled back by the crown. The animals on set today make Harry extra giggly and Aurora can’t help but laugh along with the crew as the small black and white goat that’s in Harry’s hands presses its nose to Harry’s chin, sniffing at his face. Harry’s face bunches up as he giggles. Aurora gazes lovingly at him. 

Alessandro Michele comes up to Aurora at the end of the shoot and thanks her for her hard work and she thinks she could die right there. Harry’s strong grip on her waist is the only thing keeping herself upright. She’s admired Alessandro since he took over as Creative Director of Gucci. She thanks him up and down for the opportunity. The Gucci team sets up a small party to celebrate the end of the shoot with incredible wine and cheese boards. 

From a few feet away Harry can’t help but smile as he watches Aurora mingle with the designers, photographers, assistants and the rest of the creative team. She looks like she’s in her element and she’s glowing. Harry can’t believe he gets to love this girl for as long as she’ll let her. He sure hopes it's for a long long time. 

Harry and Aurora take a final stroll through the maze of hedges as the sun sets on the beautiful garden. Aurora tries to thank Harry for giving her this opportunity but he cuts her off. 

“It might have helped a small bit that I’m in love with you,” Harry says with a wink, “but your hard work is what got you here. Alessandro hired you on Lambert’s suggestion, not mine.” 

“Still, I wouldn’t be here if it weren't for you.” Harry tries to speak but Aurora won’t have it. “Just let me thank you, okay?” Harry nods as Aurora reaches up to kiss him softly. “I’m kinda ready to go,” Aurora shares as she trails her hands down Harry’s chest. Her hands land on the belt of his pants as she kisses him again, this time tilting her head to kiss him deeper. 

“Okay,” Harry says breathlessly when they pull apart. 

 | | | | | 

The next morning when Aurora wakes up she can’t put a finger on what she’s feeling. She’s not startled by the unfamiliar room she’s in because she can hear Harry’s slow, steady heartbeat where her head lays on his chest. She moves her body minuelty against Harry, snuggling in closer and is reminded of last night when her bare chest slides against his and his arms wrap tighter around her. A sigh leaves her mouth before pressing a light kiss to the skin of his chest that is nearest her lips. 

“Just a few more minutes, Ror.” Harry’s voice is low and raspy. “Tired me out last night, need some extra sleep.” Aurora groans cause even half asleep, on a peaceful morning, Harry can be a menace. 

She looks up to him through her lashes, his eyes still closed, his breathing still slow, his face soft. She recalls last night as she traces the lines of his tattoos on his torso.

//

When they get back to the villa Aurora pauses in the entryway as the door closes behind her. She inhales through her nose and lets the breath out through her mouth. Her fingertips are tingling but not in the way they normally do. Her whole body feels like this. Every surface of her body is tingly and Aurora’s heart is beating fast and she knows where she’s about to venture. 

As she walks towards Harry, she hopes that he doesn’t ask her a question or expect her to talk right now because her voice is caught in her chest. She couldn’t speak even if she tried. She reaches her hands up to Harry’s face when she gets to him. Pulling him down to her, he obliges and kisses her lips. They kiss, standing there for as long as they both can stand it. When Aurora pulls away to catch her breath she meets Harry’s vulnerable eyes, his breathing uneven just like hers. She grabs his hand and leads him up the stairs.

It’s when she pulls her shirt over her head that Harry sucks in a breath through his teeth. Their eyes meet for a moment and Aurora hopes that he can read her just as he did that night in the bar. He dips his head down to press a kiss to her shoulder as he slowly pushes her black bra strap to the side. When he looks back to her Aurora reaches for the hem of his shirt. She kisses him softly on the lips before pulling his t-shirt over his head. 

His shirt is tossed to the floor and lands somewhere unknown to either of them. Aurora lets out a short nervous laugh when she meets Harry’s eyes. Her eyes dart to his bare chest and her hands lightly trail down his skin. They pause at the laurels that are inked on his hips. The bottom of them is hidden under the waistband of his boxers and trousers. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of his black trousers. Harry has a hand holding the back of Aurora’s head, tilting it sideways as he presses kiss after kiss down her neck and across her shoulder and over her collarbone. He pauses his actions when he feels Aurora fumble with the button on his trousers. 

“Ror,” he says softly, his hands going to her wrists to pause her actions as well. She looks up to him. “Seems like you’re better at getting me in clothes than getting me out of them,” he says with a light chuckle. Aurora lets out all of the air that’s in her chest through her nose, it’s an equally annoyed and frustrated release. 

“Do you want me to take your clothes off or not?” There’s a hint of mischievousness to her tone. 

Harry’s head drops back, a groan coming from the back of his throat. “Are you sure, Ror?” Harry’s voice is soft and serious, but it doesn’t lack compassion or love or lust, even. 

Aurora’s chest feels hot, her cheeks flush and she nods because getting her voice to work right now is only going to draw this on longer. Harry carefully takes her head in his hands, the softest touch he’s had with her yet, and collides their lips. He only disconnects their lips for a moment to turn his head to the side to kiss her deeper. The next time he pulls away he speaks up, resting his forehead against hers. 

“Rory, I need you to say it,” he kisses her swiftly, unable to bear the smallest amount of time not attached to her lips. “Need you to say yes, say this is what you want,” his eyes are pleading with hers. Aurora only nods as she swallows. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears and she’s sure Harry can hear it as well. His hands move to rest on her waist. Goosebumps arise all over as his rough, calloused fingertips dig into the bare skin. 

Aurora closes her eyes, takes a deep breath. Her hands go to his jaw and she trails a finger along the edge of one side. “Yes, Harry, I want this,” she whispers. She looks him in the eyes as she tucks a stray curl back in its place. The green of his eyes is barely there, but still striking nonetheless. She tries to kiss the smirk off his face but when she pulls away it’s still there, dimple and all. “Will you let me take your clothes off now?” She asks, reaching back to the button of his trousers. Aurora doesn’t drop her focus to her hands and keeps her eye locked with Harry’s. She can’t help but mirror the joy on Harry's face. 

It’s Harry’s turn to be speechless and he nods as Aurora continues her previous movements. She giggles as his pants come loose, the button not only sliding through the buttonhole but popping off the fabric completely. It bounces once on the floor before rolling away to a place neither of them care to figure out. They're both in fits of laughter. 

Through giggles and smiles Aurora apologizes, “Sorry! I can sew that back on! I promise!” They only stop laughing when Harry takes Aurora’s face in his hands again and kisses her deeply. 

“You can fix it tomorrow. We’ve got much more important things at hand,” he says between kisses. Aurora works his now unbuttoned pants over his bum and he helps her push them down so he can step out of them. All whilst kissing her again and again, he manages to move them towards the bed that they’ve been calling theirs for the past few days. 

Aurora begins to work her mouth down the side of Harry's neck. She smiles into the next kiss at his collarbone when she can not only hear, but feel the low groan Harry makes as it rattles his chest. She feels Harry’s hands move from her waist to the front of her pants. Now returning the favour, he ceremoniously drags Aurora’s jeans off her. 

She’s been here before with Harry, but anything that comes next is new territory. She wants it, the flutter at the bottom of her stomach tells her so. Her ever quickening heartbeat reminds her this is real and that she really does love the man that is worshiping her right now. 

Aurora’s eyes follow his every move. They flutter when he places a soft kiss to the skin above the waistband of her underwear. His lips leave a heated path from there, up the center of her stomach and to her sternum. He sucks lightly at her collarbone before he kisses her on the lips again. Both of their chests are rising and falling rapidly, from the lack of oxygen because they can’t stop kissing or from the nerves that are coursing through the both of them, neither are sure. A combination of both most likely. Though the nerves are there, Aurora feels more confident than she ever has before. 

She’s been naked and vulnerable with someone before, but never has she felt this. She feels like baring her entire self to Harry right now is the best moment of her life. She feels free and unashamed of the small marks here or there on her skin. The patch of hair she missed when she shaved her legs last doesn’t even cross her mind. The unmatching, probably ripped pair of underwear she has on doesn’t bother her. The stretch marks that cover her breasts, which she has hated her whole adult life, are nothing to be ashamed of and so she takes this new found confidence and reaches back to the clasps on her bra. As she unhooks them, she realises that her confindence and sureness in herself isn’t just because it’s Harry who stands in front of her. Yes, he is the one who has created the space for her to feel like this but she’s really here because of herself. She’s proud of who she is and all she is because she’s made progress, even in a short few months. Aurora will reflect back on this moment for years to come, regardless if her and Harry aren’t the same as they are now. The Aurora that left home to go on tour is not the same Aurora that is standing here now, pulling the straps of her bra off her shoulders. 

When she really looks at Harry she has to give him credit. He is part of the reason she’s standing here. He’s taught her in a few short, crazy weeks that being vulnerable is okay. That sticking around and fighting for something is worth it. That letting go and being open to love is perfectly okay. She doesn’t feel the need to pretend that she’s comfortable. Not for herself. Not for Harry. She really is okay right now.

As the fabric of her bra hits the floor, Harry’s face shows nothing but love as his eyes dart from the newly uncovered skin, to her lips, to her eyes and back. His hands move from her hips, up the side of her body and graze the side of breasts. She lets out a shaky breath. 

“I love you,” he reminds Aurora. “I love you so much, Rory,” he repeats. 

“Harry,” she breathes out, her hands going to rest on his chest, smoothing over the skin before she reciprocates the gesture, “love you, too,” she rushes out. And then they’re kissing and Harry is guiding her down to the bed. 

Northern lights and sunshine could never exist at the same time. It’s not possible in this universe. Except for right now, as Harry stares down at Aurora and Aurora back up at him. There’s nothing between their 2 bodies that can get in the way. He’s shining more than Aurora’s ever seen and Harry is seeing new colours. In a different world, their bodies melding together, would look like bursts of sunlight weaving through the bright colours of the Northern Lights. A sight that would surely stop anyone in their tracks. 

// 

The morning sun now shines through the gauzy white curtains and Aurora is pulled out of her thoughts as Harry lightly grazes his hand up and down her bare back. Goosebumps appear in the wake of his fingertips. She lifts her head up to look at him clearly. His eyes are barely open but the sun shining through the window makes the green of his eyes an almost silver colour with dark green edges. He smiles softly down at her. Aurora can’t help but smile back. She slides her leg all the way over his hips and presses their chests together, laying down on top of him. Harry pulls the crisp white sheet as she moves and leaves it low but covering their bottom halves. Harry wraps his arms around Aurora and hugs her to him. They don’t move for a long while. They spend the majority of the sunny morning passing kisses back forth. 

Sunshine and the Northern Lights could never exist together, yet here in this villa too big for just the 2 of them, Aurora and Harry exist as one.  

I really hope you enjoyed this part ! 💕 thank you sooo much for reading ! please reblog to share with your friends, it really helps out :) 

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #sequins &amp; zippers #aurora on tour #harry styles fanfiction #one direction imagine

[bitterlikesweets]

Love Bites Ch 14

This is the fourteenth chapter of a modern/vampire AU ereri fanfic. You can also read it on Ao3. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Next

Eren can't fathom how Levi thought he wouldn't want this.

He wanted it, wants it, is going to want it as soon as they stop. Levi's hand is on his chest, grabbing his shirt and keeping Eren close. His other arm slips around Eren's waist and tugs him closer, and Eren's body trembles under every spot that Levi touches him. Eren clutches at the fabric of Levi's shirt just above the man's hips, grasping tightly as Levi kisses him so fiercely he nearly forgets why he was so worried on his way here in the first place.

And it's more than that, more than just a simple kiss, at least to Eren. There’s something about kissing Levi that makes Eren feel incredibly human. It’s the heat of Levi’s skin, the way blood roars through Eren's veins like fuel in a jet engine. It’s the way the satisfaction pools and hums in his chest and almost makes him feel as if his heart can beat again. It’s the burning in his chest but it spreads throughout him, warm and contained and nothing like the flame of anger that blazes through him until it hurts and he can’t think straight.

Though he’s not exactly thinking straight now, either.

Eren shifts from gripping fabric to actually having Levi's waist beneath his hands. Levi hums a little in satisfaction, a brief sound that has Eren grinning against Levi's lips and holding the man tighter. He wants to hear more. He likes to know that whatever he's doing is good for Levi because Levi is definitely doing all the right stuff for Eren.

Eren wants to hear more, feel more, do more, so he parts his lips, leaning forward into Levi and hoping to take things a bit farther—

And then Eren tastes blood.

Eren gasps and tries to pull away, but Levi releases Eren's shirt and tangles his fingers into Eren’s brown locks to keep him anchored there. For a moment they just stare at each other, close enough to feel each other’s breath. Eren’s hands pull away from Levi's waist to grip little fistfuls of Levi's shirt again. He feels like he’s buzzing all over, tingling heat blossoming from his lips to the tips of his toes, and he knows that if he was human, his heart would be pounding right now.

But he’s not human. The blood slowly trailing down Levi’s chin is proof of that.

"Eren," Levi says slowly, slightly accusatory.

Eren drops his gaze to the floor.

"...Yeah?"

"I know I told you to bite me if you didn't want this…"

Levi's fingers slide beneath Eren's chin, forcing him to meet Levi's gaze again. Then Levi pulls his hand away, swiping his bottom lip with his thumb and leaving a bloody smudge on those pale lips. Eren's breath leaves him for a brief moment—fuck, he really shouldn't be finding that one movement as attractive as he currently is.

"...but something tells me you were just being an overeager little shit," Levi finishes.

"I… I forgot I had fangs for a second there."

Levi scoffs.

"Only you would. Dumbass."

Eren pretends to glare down at Levi, his lips curving into an exaggerated frown.

"Hey, dumbass is my word. Stick to calling me a little shit, thanks."

Levi lets out an exhale of breath that almost sounds like a laugh, dropping his head to lean against Eren's chest.

"Oh yeah? You own it?"

"It's copyrighted, actually," Eren says, wrapping his arms around Levi's waist. "So, yeah, get your own word."

Levi does that breathy almost-laugh again before reaching up to cradle Eren's cheek in his hand.

"Whatever you say, brat."

Eren smiles, leaning into Levi's touch. He could stay in this moment forever. For eternity. And he's a vampire; he could. Just him and Levi in this peaceful moment for all time—

Oh. But Levi's human. Levi can’t.

...Even more reason for Eren to enjoy things while he can.

A few seconds later, Levi pulls away. Eren reluctantly lets his arms fall from Levi's sides. He watches as the man clears his throat and straightens his clothes a little before looking over at Eren again.

"Let's go inside. We've got a lot to talk about," Levi says. "Shit, and I'd better call Petra or somebody so that Furlan doesn't lose his mind trying to do both our jobs."

"It's not like you to forget to plan ahead," Eren teases, following behind Levi as he walks to the door.

"It's not easy to plan ahead for a surprise vampire showing up at your doorstep during a sunset, when he shouldn't be out at all."

"I… No, yeah. Good point."

Levi opens the door and throws a glance at Eren over his shoulder before walking in, gray eyes practically shining.

"Dumbass."

Eren half-heartedly shoves his back.

"I told you that was my word, you… you fucking brat!"

"It's 'shitty brat,' if we're being accurate here."

"Fuck you!" Eren exclaims, but he's already laughing.

~~~

"Petra Ral reporting for duty, Levi!"

Petra's amber eyes are shining as she mock-salutes Levi, not-so-subtly winking at Eren as she does. The vampire is standing over Levi's shoulder as the man cooks, trying to see if he can rest his chin on the shorter man's head without Levi getting mad. Eren is dressed in an apron, gloves, and a hairnet, even though Levi barely let him close enough to smell the pot, much less touch any of the food.

"You're just going to complain about the garlic anyway, brat."

As if every dish Levi is making has garlic in it. And there's no way that's the case. At least, Eren thinks so. Eren does like to eat Italian food, but his mom was the only chef in their house, so he knows jack-all about any recipes.

"Thanks," Levi says, stepping away from the stove to start stripping off his kitchen attire. "Feels like I owe you a raise."

"Don't worry about it!" Petra replies. "I'm just happy to help. Now get out of here, lovebirds."

Eren’s cheeks burn.

“L-lovebirds? I mean—” Eren splutters.

Levi grabs hold of Eren’s hand.

“Yeah,” Levi says with a nod at Petra. “We’ll do that.”

Levi looks up at Eren with an eyebrow raised.

“Right?”

Eren stares down at Levi, wide-eyed for a moment, but it doesn’t take long for his expression to melt into a smile. He squeezes the hand already tightly gripping his, dropping his head into a nod.

“Right!”

With Petra in charge of the kitchen, Levi and Eren head into the breakroom, sliding into their adjacent seats at the wooden table. Eren drops his chin into his hand, green eyes dropping to the table before they slide across the wooden surface and quickly glance up. He gets a glimpse of a pale face, gray eyes already staring straight at him.

Eren's lips tremble, and he drops his head onto the table, cheeks warming as he grins.

"What?" Levi asks.

"Nothing," Eren says, even as he brushes his lips with his fingers, feeling like the ghost of Levi's kiss is still lingering.

"You…"

There's a thump beneath Eren's seat. Eren’s body lurches to the side, and he hears the scrape of wooden legs against hard floors. When he raises his head, he sees Levi's foot hooked to one of the legs on his chair, dragging him closer. Before Eren can ask for the man's reasoning, Levi has a hand on his cheek, pulling him down.

Their lips meet slowly. Levi's hand on his cheek slides upward, his fingers settling between the strands of Eren's brown hair. Levi's black bangs tickle Eren's forehead, and their knees bump as Eren twists in his chair to face Levi better.

This is… more than Eren ever expected, more than he ever dared to hope for. Not just since he met Levi—he never expected something like this for himself. A relationship, a person who genuinely loves him, not just a person he hangs onto because he doesn’t know what else to do. Someone he really feels something for. Love—love like this, love that’s intimate, powerful, that feels like it could last a long time—is something Eren never really believed in. Something he may have thought was real as a kid before he learned about falling out of love, before he saw his dad’s—

The point is that Eren is thrilled. He’s feeling something he never really thought was real, and he’s not just feeling it. It’s filling him up, expanding within him with every touch, and he just hopes he can pass some of that through to Levi, so that he can understand just how much this means to Eren.

It’s bursting out of Eren now, in the form of being unable to stop himself from grinning against Levi's lips. Levi scoffs in response, pulling away to brush his thumb at the corner of Eren's smile.

"You're happy?" Levi asks.

Eren's grin brightens.

"Of course."

Levi's expression softens, and he leans up, their lips meeting again for one brief moment.

“Good,” Levi replies.

“What about you? Are you happy?”

Gray eyes narrow fondly, brushing the back of his hand against Eren's cheek.

"I am."

Levi's hand turns to slide his thumb over Eren's cheekbones—slow, repeated motions that tickle Eren's face. And those eyes, those piercing gray eyes are sweeping Eren's face. Eren notices the way they linger on his lips, the way those eyes move up to track the movement of Levi's hands on his face. The attention on him makes Eren's cheeks grow hot—again. Has he been able to stop blushing at all since they kissed?

Levi's eyes continue their scan of Eren's face, slowly moving upwards, as if he's taking in every wrinkle, every pore on the vampire's skin. A moment later and gray meets vivid green. Eren cracks a smile and layers his hand over Levi’s.

“Don’t stare too long,” Eren teases, and Levi’s eyes widen before the man’s gaze falls to the table.

Levi’s hand retracts, and the oh-so-stoic vampire hunter clears his throat as the tops of his ears burn pink. Eren grins even wider.

"I… was distracted,” Levi says, clearing his throat again before his voice regains its usual stern edge. “We’re supposed to talk.”

Eren laughs a little. When that earns him a half-hearted glare from Levi, he straightens in his seat and tries to stifle any more laughs behind his hand.

"Right,” Eren says once he’s tamed his smile. “Talk about…?"

"Any questions you have," Levi replies. "And I… have some questions too."

"Oh," Eren says, tilting his head as a question immediately comes to mind. "Can I start?"

Levi nods, and Eren laces his fingers together in his lap.

"What was that thing you were talking about with Erwin? When I walked in and you didn't want to tell me?"

Levi drops his head into his hands and sighs.

"Wha—" Eren starts, leaning towards Levi with wide eyes. "What's wrong?! Are some questions off limits? I can change mine—"

"No," Levi says. "I just…"

Levi sighs again.

"It seems like such dumb shit now," Levi mumbles. "I… When you mentioned my blood tasting sweeter, it reminded me of something my mom told me about vampires. That when they gain feelings for someone, that person's blood tastes sweeter to them. So I thought that you…"

"Oh," Eren says after Levi trails off. "Wait—why didn't you want to tell me that?"

Levi runs his fingers through his hair, his head still lowered.

"Because when I asked Shitty Brows about it—"

"Shitty brows?"

"—he told me it was a fucking soulmate legend that most vampires don’t believe in. Like fucking folk tales for the undead. He said cases pop up very rarely and there's no way to prove them when they do."

"Still having a hard time understanding why you wouldn't want to tell me we were soulmates…"

"Because I can’t pin my hopes on a fucking legend that even fantasy creatures don’t think is true, Eren.”

Eren hums a little, leaning on the table and resting his chin on the back of his hand. Large green eyes stare at Levi as the man drags his fingers through his dark locks again, pale lips curved into a frown. It’s upsetting Levi even now, that unreliable legend.

Soulmates… Eren can see why Levi has a hard time believing in that. Honestly, it’s not the craziest thing Eren has heard since becoming a vampire, so for Eren, it sounds believable. Maybe his special connection with Levi makes his body react so strongly to his emotions. The sweet blood could just be because he likes Levi, or it could be more.

So much of the vampire knowledge Eren has gained sounds like nonsense to him anyway. He’d believe anything about vampires if Levi or Erwin and Hanji said it was true.

But the existence of vampires isn’t nonsense for Levi. If he’s known about them since he was a kid, then all that stuff he’s been teaching Eren probably sounds as reliable as regular biology to Levi. Eren believes because there’s nothing else he really can do. But maybe… maybe for Levi it’s not about believing. Science just is—it’s facts and truth. For something Levi thought was fact to suddenly be nothing more than a myth—and that myth being something he had really hoped was true—

“Levi?”

“What?” Levi grumbles.

Eren holds out his hand over Levi’s lap so that the man can see even with his head lowered. Levi glances up at him with a frown, but he eventually places his hand on top of Eren’s. Eren smiles and leans closer, curling his fingers around Levi's hand.

“Personally, I don’t think we should take being soulmates off the table—”

Levi scoffs.

“But,” Eren continues, squeezing Levi’s hand tighter, “either way, Levi, I love you. I’m choosing you, myth or no myth. So you don’t have to put your hopes into some old legend. Just leave all those hopes with me.”

Levi’s eyes grow wide. His mouth falls open then shuts, pressing into a frown as black eyebrows pull down at sharp angles. But then that scowling expression shakes, lips shifting from a frown to a flat line. The angle of his thin, black eyebrows shifts from frustration to concern until Levi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. His grip on Eren’s hand becomes almost bruisingly tight, but his expression starts to flatten and relax.

“Eren.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m… new at this.”

Eren smiles softly, giving Levi’s hand a squeeze.

“That’s okay. Me too—I mean, I’ve never felt this strongly—”

“No,” Levi says with a shake of his head. “I’ve never… I’ve never felt anything. Nothing like this has ever…”

Levi lowers his head, dragging his fingers through his hair. His grip on Eren’s hand tightens.

“Any relationships I’ve had have been physical, not emotional. That’s why I—It’s so different with you that it freaks me the fuck out sometimes. So if I—No, I’m going to fuck this up sometimes.”

“No, Levi—”

“I’ll fuck it up,” Levi continues, finally opening his eyes again, though his gaze is still lowered. “So I…”

Levi clears his throat and then raises his head to meet Eren’s gaze.

“When I do,” Levi says softly, “I… I hope you’ll choose me again.”

Eren’s arms are around Levi’s shoulders before he’s even conscious of himself moving. He buries his face into Levi’s shoulder, his hands wrapped around Levi’s forearms and holding tightly. Hesitant arms rise and loop loosely around Eren’s waist, and when they do, Eren holds Levi even tighter.

“I will,” Eren says, his face still buried in Levi’s shoulder and his voice muffled by the man’s shirt. “I definitely will.”

Levi is the one who pulls away first. His arms fall to his sides, and he leans back against Eren’s arms. Eren takes that as a hint to unwind his arms from around the man, and he leans back into his own seat.

And they sit in silence for a moment.

Eren rubs the back of his neck with his hand, his eyes darting around the room as he tries to find a way to fill the quiet, unsure of how to naturally bridge into another conversation. It’s hard, especially when Levi’s words keep tumbling around in his head, leaving him feeling a mixture of giddy and sad at once.

Of course Eren will choose Levi again. Eren sincerely doubts that there’s anything Levi could do that could somehow overturn the rush that Eren gets just from being near him, that could somehow stop his familiar touches from being comforting. These feelings are ingrained in Eren now; they won’t be so easily carved out.

“Eren.”

Eren’s gaze flickers back to Levi, his head tilting slightly. “Hmm?”

“I have a question for you.”

Oh right. They were trading questions with each other. Eren nearly forgot.

“Okay, go ahead.”

Levi’s eyes darken slightly as he pins Eren in place with his gaze.

“Why did you run after I told you I loved you?”

Levi’s voice is carefully monotone as he speaks, but Eren can hear the way his breaths are unsteady between the words, can see the slight twitch of Levi’s hands as the man tries not to clench them into fists.

It makes Eren feel even worse that this is the one question he doesn’t really have an answer for.

“I… don’t know.”

Levi doesn’t say anything, but the silence still makes Eren flinch.

“You don’t know,” Levi says after a moment, and Eren hangs his head, his hands clenching into fists in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” Eren mumbles. “I just—sometimes my head just… It-it gets stuck and I can’t get out of it.”

Levi’s still quiet. Eren digs his fingernails into the palms of his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Eren says again. “I-I don’t know what—I… I was just—I thought that you were rejecting me, and I just… I don’t know. I heard you, I know I did, but I just couldn’t—it was like I didn’t actually hear you, or I couldn’t process it because I was already gone, I was already stuck—”

Eren’s hands move up to sink between the strands of his hair, nails pressing into his scalp.

“It’s like… Like driving a car with no brakes, like I can’t stop—I’m sorry, I don’t—I just—fuck—”

Eren knows he’s not making any sense. It doesn’t make any sense to him either. He just knows that he does it. He doesn’t know how or why or how to turn it off. It’s like he gets stuck on a path and can’t stop walking down it, and he worries that one day he’s going to go down a path that he’ll never step off of, and what happens to him then? What happens to all the people he walks away from? What if he ran away from Levi that day and never came back?

He just wishes there was a switch, a way to turn it off because he just keeps going and going and—fuck, how is Levi the one worried about messing things up between them? It’s never going to be Levi, it’s going to be Eren, it’s always going to be Eren—

There’s a hand on Eren’s head and it makes him jolt, sucking in oxygen with a gasp, and holy shit, he had completely stopped breathing—

“Eren.”

It’s Levi’s voice, quiet and gentle. There are two hands on Eren’s head now, sliding over his hair and then moving to pry Eren’s tense fingers away from his scalp.

“I’m sorry—”

“No,” Levi says, still quiet, but firmer. “You don’t need to do that.”

“But I—”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

Levi’s hands are cradled around Eren’s, gently guiding them to rest in Eren’s lap. Eren’s head is still lowered, so he only catches sight of his hands as Levi moves them onto his legs. There’s red beneath his fingernails. Now that he’s thinking about it, his head does ache in a few spots.

There’s a scraping sound in front of Eren—a chair sliding across the floor, and then Levi’s legs pop into view. He’s kneeling. Levi’s kneeling on the ground in front of Eren’s chair, and then Levi’s hands are beside his again. They move to cover Eren’s, just slightly hovering above, pale skin obscuring Eren’s hands from view. Then Eren sees black hair. Then he feels it, the top of Levi’s head nudging Eren’s cheek up until it isn’t hanging quite so low.

“I think I understand,” Levi says once he’s pushed Eren’s head high enough that they can look each other in the eye. “So you don’t need to apologize.”

Eren’s head is starting to clear now that he can breathe again, and the heat of shame is building up on his cheeks and in the back of his throat. He wants to apologize again, for getting worked up so easily, for freaking out over nothing, but he bites his tongue with his flat front teeth.

They sit like that in silence for a moment, Eren’s heavy head resting on Levi’s, their foreheads touching. Levi just stares up at him, gray eyes scanning his face as if searching for any more signs of distress. But Eren doesn’t feel distressed anymore. Just tired. Very, very tired.

“You okay?” Levi asks after a little bit, his hands curling around Eren’s.

Eren nods slowly. The I’m sorry still lingers in the back of his throat, but he holds it back.

“Do you want to go home?”

Eren shakes his head. His hands curl slightly around Levi’s, reciprocating his touch as well as Eren’s able to at the moment.

“Okay,” Levi replies. His pale thumbs slowly sweep back and forth across the back of Eren’s hands.

“Can we—” Eren’s voice comes out a little garbled. He clears his throat and tries again. “Can we still ask questions?”

Levi frowns, the movement of his thumbs pausing.

“Are you sure?”

Eren nods again.

“I… want to know how old you are.”

Levi blinks up at him for a moment before lowering his head as he lets out a brief laugh, giving Eren’s hands a squeeze.

“I’m twenty-six.”

Eren lets out a little hum.

“Favorite color,” he says.

“Black,” Levi replies.

“Favorite animal.”

“Hm… Horses.”

“Favorite hobby.”

“Do I get to ask you any questions?”

“Mmm… No.”

Levi rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Cleaning.”

“Favorite…”

Eren’s not sure how long they go on like that. All he does know is that by the time Levi sends him home, he’s managed to smile again.

#ereri #ereri fanfic #riren #riren fanfic #ereri riren #fanfiction

[sourbat]

Here’s a short Skwismag I wrote today. 

Summary:  Skwisgaar remembers an evening with Magnus.

Warning: Drug use; implied sexual content. 

Skwisgaar remembered sitting at the edge of the old apartment’s railway, legs dangling and swaying in accordance with the late summer winds. Magnus stood beside him, shirtless and elbows pressed on top of the flimsy metal frame. The sun was setting, or had just started to set. Skwisgaar couldn’t recall the exact hour, nor month this memory occurred, only that the sky was a rich shade of orange. Magnus slid a foot back before offering Skwisgaar a hit of his blunt, grinning mad and spilling smoke from the parting rows of teeth, flicking the end and letting the ash rain all over his faded gray Toyota Camry before passing it down to Skwisgaar.

“We ams supposed to be leavinks soon,” Skwisgaar commented, but raised his hand up in agreement.

“I’ve driven under worse.” Magnus retorted, and Skwisgaar, despite knowing it was wrong, had to agree. He drank up the smoke, held it in until his lungs burned, and spewed it all in a long, seamless stream.

A few minutes later, the magic hit and the vibrant orange and burgeoning shades of violet in the distance started to magnify and glisten. Skwisgaar thought it was just good weed, but in six hours would come to terms that he was under the influence of a mixture of dangerous club concoctions. For now, he stared at the setting sun, jaw dropping at the magnificent array of colors that ate his senses whole. High as he was, he knew better than to meet the sun head-on, but witnessed its peeling outer layers melt into the blood orange sky. The stars were there. Skwisgaar remembered there being stars once it hit, and they sparkled and shimmered long rays of brilliant light into the deepening violet and pink. Another warm breeze passed through the streets, and this time Skwisgaar could make out each individual stream of air that tickled his neck and tasseled strands of his long blond hair. Magnus sways to the left, spilling more smoke into the air, and Skwisgaar recalled the strange aftertaste it left in his mouth, and wondered what other drugs Magnus failed to mention.

“What are you looking at?”

Skwisgaar turned. “Them suns.” He answered, pursed lips forming a degenerate smile once he caught Magnus in his sights. “It ams looking like pretty van Gogh painting, what with thems purple and swirly organses and yellows.”

He raised a finger towards Magnus, giving it twirl to indicate the direction of where the light was headed, then another to point out the stars above. Magnus raised his head up, mouth agape as he stared up at whatever mystical performance he witnessed under his high. Skwisgaar snickered, then rested his arms on the bottom half of the railing. His fingers scratched at the peeling layers of metal, unearthing stained rust that collected under his nails. The rust reminded him of dried blood. When Skwisgaar grew sick of staring at his fingernails, he turned and saw Magnus above him, eyes glued on his form. 

“What ims it?” Skwisgaar asked. He blinked madly, trying to make out the man behind the shimmering lights, but couldn’t see past that rose-tinted veil.

Magnus snubbed the end of the laced blunt into the handrail. “Nothing, just admiring you,” he said plainly, which only made Skwisgaar turn and check over his shoulder to see if their apartment door was open as they had left it. It was, but Skwisgaar leaned further, saw there was no one in the living room or kitchen.

Relieved, Skwisgaar dropped to the floor. “You shouldn’t be saying them things out louds,” Skwisgaar warned, then ran a hand across his face. He was starting to sweat, and his throat was dry. “Nathan and the others will hears you.”

Magnus dropped to a squat, or his knees? Or, did Magnus remain put, keeping his limber form against the railing as he let loose a low, almost threatening chuckle?  

“Let them fucking hear. What are they going to do?” Magnus asked with a sharp, antagonistic snap. A finger laced around several strands of his hair. Magnus must have been at his level then. Maybe they were lying together. If he couldn’t remember anyone being there, then maybe this was one of those rare cases where Magnus wasn’t afraid to show more than just a drop of affection in public.

Another veil draped over them. Magnus must’ve been sitting beside him, because Skwisgaar was sure it was his dark hair spilling over his back and shoulders, cascading around them and creating a small reprieve from all other outside stimulation. Skwisgaar stared up  at the shadowy form of a man who was so gone his eyes almost appeared black.

“I like the way your eyes look when they’re dilated,” Magnus told him, then lowered further to meet Skwisgaar’s lips with his own. 

A disturbing compliment, but they were high at the time, and Skwisgaar didn’t know any better. All he knew was Magnus was kissing him in public, on the eve of a hot, summer day, telling him how gorgeous he looked, and how tragic it was that he couldn’t have more to himself. They always kept things casual during the daylight hours, with Magnus performing the subtle art of flirtation whenever the opportunity arose. 

“You ams high, Magnus.”

Magnus cackled at the remark. “And so are you.”

How the conversation turned to the rave, and getting inside the car was a mystery. Skwisgaar couldn’t think straight, or maybe couldn’t bring himself to go any further past that moment where Magnus took advantage of their seclusion, of having him cornered in a spot. He breezed through the fuzzy recollection of a fingertip that curled under his palms, tickled his wrist before snatching and pulling him up so that they could dress and head out of the apartment. If memory serves correct, Murderface just left his room and asked Magnus for a ride to the pawn shop. Or was it Nathan? Another fast forward, and Magnus and Skwisgaar were in the car, ignition on, and faulty conditioner blowing lukewarm air at full blast. Skwisgaar’s seat groaned for him as he threw his head back, letting Magnus brush his nose across his neck, get lost in the nape before whispering hot words into his ear, asking if he wanted to ride to a more secluded spot before they hit the rave.

Magnus tore through the highway, reaching speeds that should’ve warranted their deaths, but always knew when to break at the last minute, when to drop speeds before ramming his clunker into the trunks of bigger, better cars. Trapped in his daze, Skwisgaar rolled down the window to stare out to the setting sun, the purple that shushed and tucked it deeper into the horizon, and the sparkly blue sky that glistened and blanketed the day into night. Skwisgaar saw that familiar set of trees, the bright orange sign located just a few miles away from their exit, and neon lights pointing towards a casino Skwisgaar kept saying he’d visit, but never did.

The exited the freeway, drove up a set of hills and into nicer neighborhoods with fenced yards and two story houses. Skwisgaar fished through the glove compartment for condoms, while Magnus continued to lift and drop his sunglasses, squinting at signs and trying to locate the entrance to a hiking trail no one bothered to visit during this late in the hour. Skwisgaar couldn’t remember the way back to that hill, nor could he recall what Magnus said to convince him that they should stay in the front of the car this time. The summer’s top 10 played, and Skwisgaar pulled the lever and lowered his seat, resting his simmering body against the heated passenger seat. The arid atmosphere seeped into his eyes, adding to the mild discomforts of his already  fuzzy head and cotton-dry mouth. Magnus hummed to one of the songs, then threw his belt on top of the dashboard and–fast forward–black consumed the sky once they were done, and the air outside had finally reached a tolerable temperature for the two of them to enjoy and bathe their sweaty bodies in before hitting the floor.

For some reason, Skwisgaar saw Magnus sitting on top of his car’s hood: pants and shirt on, but the latter only buttoned partway. The man was silent, eyes surprisingly steady given the concoction he’d smoked, licking his chapped lips as he stared down the hill at the city’s glowing palette: the white headlights and red taillights, the blue and green neon lights, flashing rainbows beckoning people over, and glowing balls of office buildings that were coming to their close.

Skwisgaar knew it couldn’t be the case, because Magnus never settled or allowed himself a chance to reflect on their brief liaisons. He was always ready to move on, and once he was off Skwisgaar, asked for the address to the club.

Still…

“What ams you staring at?” Skwisgaar pretended to say to the version of Magnus that was either depressed, ashamed, coming down, or tired.

“Everything,” Magnus answered, then raised a heavy arm down at the city.

Skwisgaar walked over to the front of the car, then sat next to Magnus. The car groaned under their added weight, but Skwisgaar hung low, resting his elbows on top his legs as he and Magnus viewed the shimmering freeway below.

“Ims beautiful,” Skwisgaar said.

And because this was his memory, a made-up figment of his imagination, Magnus looked away from the lightshow to instead witness him. “Not as beautiful as you,” he said, offering a free hand for Skwisgaar to indulge in. And, instead of going to the club, Skwisgaar and Magnus remained on that hill, letting their shared high trick them into believing the glimmering city beneath was made of gold, jewels and lightning. Magnus would divulge into some random diatribe of how everything was out to get him before being snuffed by Skwisgaar’s lips, and for once, Magnus would accept the kiss as it were. They laid on top of the car together, holding one another in the cooling winds and switching between the waves of immersive, incandescent lighting below, the faint glimmer of twinkling skies above, and the joy seeping out from their wide, dilated pupils.

Skwisgaar wanted it to be real. It was a modest way to end the night, but anything was better than what occurred. Magnus would take the wrong exit, and they’d be lost for nearly twenty minutes because Skwisgaar couldn’t remember the exact name of the club, and when they arrived, the line was so long by the time they made it past the front doors Magnus was irritated and already on edge. Someone bumped into him later, and didn’t apologize quick enough, and Magnus threatened to kick his ass. The next time it happened, Magnus swung a fist. Skwisgaar forgot how he calmed Magnus down the first time, but knew he failed miserably to even pull him away the second. Someone caught them together, and Magnus was still recovering from that initial fight, but they made the horrendous mistake to call them a foul name. Magnus just couldn’t let the insult go, and threw himself on their provoker, fists beating down on him before Skwisgaar could shake off the effects of the offense. When he finally did, people were turning on them, and names only grew worse. Although Magnus scared most of them off with his mangled, rage-induced form, the stress and fear he caused led to them getting kicked out, to Magnus telling him this was why he can’t ever really be happy, and blaming Skwisgaar for tricking him into thinking they could be anything more than just a dirty secret.

What really happened… Skwisgaar staring up at the vast night sky, spotting fewer stars than he remembered back at the apartment, when the sun was still falling, and Magnus sitting at the curb, analyzing his trembling, bleeding hands and falling deeper and deeper into a state of self-loathing.

...

Magnus looks so happy. It was all Skwisgaar could think when he stared up at the frozen still of him. Nathan and the others pointed fingers at the massive screen, openly criticizing Magnus’ way of starting fights and disorder at nearly any given opportunity before shifting their attention and the tone to Toki. The man wasn’t around, but he could be seen in the corner of that image, arms up in jubilation as he cheered the older man on, looking equally as excited, if not more for Magnus’ successful attack. But Skwisgaar couldn’t bring himself to rest too long on Toki. Staring too long at his smile only made his throat burn, his heart sour and turn green with jealousy. The image flickered as Nathan hit the remote, skipping several frames, and resting on an image of Magnus taking Toki by the hand, bad eye squinting from the array of flashing lights, but grin expanding beyond what Skwisgaar had ever seen.

People were huddled around them, pointing in their general direction. Even without the disguises, there had to be at least one person there calling them names, and Magnus, donning wrinkled attire stained with flecks of blood, couldn’t have been happier. 

“I’ll be real: they don’t look bad,” Pickles said, dropping his stare to return to the bottle he’d been nursing.

“Still gay, though,” Murderface pointed out. 

“I mean, at least they’re not being sissy about it, right?” Nathan said, then hit rewind once more to replay the scene.

“…which brings us to our two favorite party boys, Toki Wartooth and Magnus Hammersmith!”

Skwisgaar watched the dreaded minute-long clip, lips pulling inward when he saw Toki rush a man in the center of the dance floor, crashing into and bringing him down. Magnus appeared from the corner and pulled Toki up before saying something that couldn’t be heard through the crowds, then patted the man on the back before tugging him close. The host joked about their naturally brutal nature, their shared interest in music and how adorable it was that the two could do both while keeping their image. Hearts filled the screen as Magnus threw a fist at a man, much to the surprise of Toki. Another shoving Magnus just a second later, only to be rammed by Toki. Tweets flashed across the screen, showing dozens of fan reactions. The host returned to the clip, and people were screaming and music was playing, and Skwisgaar couldn’t hear the words Magnus whispered to Toki each time they returned to one another amidst the chaos. The crowds backed away once they recognized Toki without his hat, and the massive applause erupted once everyone realized who had kicked their asses. With just a few seconds left, Magnus turned to the camera recording the scuffle, raised a bloodied hand at him while Toki stood in the corner, beckoning Magnus back with a loving wave and coo. That was all it took for Magnus to turn, the video clip to suddenly end, and for the host to laugh off their violent date with another well-placed joke.

“Hey. Hey, Skwisgaar,” Nathan grunted, prodding Skwisgaar shoulder with his finger. “What do you think about Magnus and Toki being all gay with each other?”

Skwisgaar’s fingers ran up the neck of his guitar as he struggled to keep it all down. Middle and index shuffled between the four strings. Throat tightened at the memory of those cruel words, and Magnus blaming him for their shared suffering. 

“But don’t worry: Toki’s got Magnus’ back!”

Skwisgaar raised his head up just in time to witness the second recording pulled from the internet. Toki and Magnus were situated in the far corner of the club, half a dozen klokateers with weapons aimed at the dispersing crowd. Toki held Magnus’ hand, observing his fingers and scolding him for the damage he caused. Magnus said something in return. Skwisgaar couldn’t tell what it was because his back was facing the camera, but whatever it was, Skwisgaar could feel it, experiencing it when he saw Toki’s eyes light up under the circulating rainbow lights. Just before the video ended, Toki drew forward, eyes lidding as Magnus mirrored him and closed that already small gap.

“Well, ain’t that sweet. Calm down boys, save it for later!”

Skwisgaar looked away, unwilling to partake any further. Next to him, Murderface complained about them being gross, while Pickles laughed at the irony of it all, and Nathan, in his ignorance, nudged Skwisgaar again.

“D’ja see that?” Nathan said, snickering at the now frozen image of their two rhythm guitarists locked in a kiss. “Hey, Skwisgaar? Skwis, get a load of Toki and Magnus, here!”  

So what if they were kissing? So what if it was taking place in public?

“J-ja,” Skwisgaar said, choking through the single word. “It ims really gay and sillies. Kissing in publiks for everyones to see?!”

But Skwisgaar couldn’t bring himself to so much as glance in the direction of the still. He wouldn’t dare face that version of Magnus, the one he dared to make up whenever he tried to reminisce and find something positive, or just malleable enough to hold on to. That version of Magnus that Skwisgaar had to convince himself was real, then later reminded himself that he never existed.

That version of Magnus that Toki unearthed and had the pleasure of showing off to the world.

#metalocalypse #skwisgaar skwigelf #magnus hammersmith #toki wartooth #warning contains #magtok #near the end #also this is unedited #fanfic

[msotherworldly]

6 Features I Would Like to See in the Sims 5

1) A Semi-Open World

Much as people might gripe about loading screens, there is one advantage to having lots load separately: it enables you to visit multiple worlds within the same save file, and to play active careers without having to worry about other members of your household while you do so. Sims 3 limited you to one world, which meant starting a new game if you wanted to explore the new towns added with Supernatural or Island Living type expansions.

However, having to load each individual lot makes the world feel empty, as well as encourages your sims to be introverts if you don’t have the patience for loading screens.

A compromise could be having semi-open areas. Streets, or even whole worlds, could be “open,” with a loading screen only required if you want to visit another world or follow a Sim to work. You’ll be able to see your neighbours coming home from work, kids going by on their bikes, people heading to their homes from the bar, and all those little activities that just make the game more lifelike! This should also stop children from randomly spawning in the streets when they’re supposed to be in school!

2) Base Game Pets & Seasons

It’s been said before, but it’s worth repeating. Cats, dogs, snow, and rain are intrinsic parts of our day to day lives. Discussing the weather is a social no-no, because it’s such a common part of our day. Not only is it frustrating having to buy the exact same content (however improved) several times, but it often comes too late. It was years before either Seasons or Cats & Dogs released, which meant that for our earlier play throughs our Sims spent their lives in perpetual summer without any animal companions whatsoever.

The inclusion of pets and weather from the beginning would make room for more original content, too. A pack could still be released that was themed around winter or summer skills (skiing or water polo), and expansions featuring less common animals, such as horses, pigs, snakes, parrots, and more, could be sold. Personally, I’m still holding out hope for a Farm Expansion.

Finally, Pets and weather would be more integral to overall game play: if another expansion came out, cats & dogs could receive clothing from each pack, there being no possible compatibility issues, as well as stuff packs that wouldn’t annoy by being mostly useless to base game players (I’m looking at you, Pet Stuff).

3) A Colour Wheel

The Sims 3 wowed me as a kid, and I made my share of funky houses (everything was neon coloured and liable to burn out your eyes). While the current limitations might keep your homes looking less eccentric (no more couches with lime green and hot pink zebra stripes), it also removes a layer of personality from the proceedings.

A big component of the Sims is creativity, and being able to make whatever you can dream up. Understandably, the availability of hundreds of swatches for every surface led to struggling computers. Even decent gaming machines were liable to freeze when running the Sims 3, and textures didn’t always load on time, leading to strange white textures that suddenly popped back into existence. Even if the game wasn’t setting your computer on fire, the game was usually lagging.

While I’m okay with so many patterns being removed, I sorely miss having a colour wheel. Players, builders in particular, have expressed frustration over not being able to mix and match different pieces due to the default swatches not gelling well. I personally love vibrant clothing, so I’m disappointed when I encounter a pretty shirt only to end up discarding it for coming in the same washed out grays and pastels. A colour wheel, with the occasional pattern thrown in on individual items, would add a whole dimension to creation—as well as remove the need to download recolours.

4) Memories

Earlier Sims titles had a system where your Sims would form memories based around certain events, including life milestones: they remembered their first kisses, their marriages and divorces; they could remember their birthdays; and they could remember the deaths of friends and families. While it didn’t add much to game play, it nevertheless gave your sims more depth. You could open their logbooks, and find a scrapbook of all of their experiences, complete with photographs capturing the moment.

If such a feature were included again, it could be tweaked to affect game play. Sims who have a “divorce” memory might be more awkward on a first date, having a harder time increasing romance. Sims who have a memory of one or both of their parents dying might be afraid of the Grim Reaper. Random moodlets could crop up, such as “Remembering Deceased Pet” or “Remembering First Date,” which would change their mood. Some might also be triggered by chance: someone who has a “Divorce” memory might trigger an Embarrassed “Remembering Divorce” during their next date.

It’s not the highest on my wish list but, if implemented right, it could add even more depth to the game.

5) A Fear Emotion

The Sims 4’s biggest selling point from the onset of it’s creation was it’s emotion system. No longer would Sims simply be “Happy” or “Unhappy.” They could now feel varying moods: the discomfort from being in a dirty room is, after all, very different from the negativity experienced when dealing with grief.

Despite the introduction of a robust emotion system, one common emotion was conspicuously absent: fear. I always pictured this emotion as being represented by the colour black, or possibly a hideous orange. A number of events would trigger the emotion in Sims if it existed: the arrival of a vampire guest, being at the top of a three story building, or even activities as simple as swimming or cooking.

In the Sims 3, Sims would develop a negative moodlet when going out at night (they could be afraid of the dark). In the Sims 2, Sims also had their own distinct fears, such as a fear of having a child. During character creation, Sims should be given unique fears (such as fear of kids, fear of dogs, or fear of lightning storms) that would then trigger a moodlet in game. Some could be comical: a Sim could be made with a fear of Goopy Carbanora. Certain events could trigger fear in almost all Sims, such as a fire. While some could argue that a “fear” emotion could make the game too dark, it’s worth mentioning that this is a game where people can die or be attacked by vampires. Such an emotion, if done well, could add plenty of classic Sims humour to the game.

6) More Ages

The Sims life states were revolutionary when they came out...but twenty years later, they haven’t changed. Subtle differences between existing states have also disappeared, making teens and adults impossible to tell apart. When the Sims 4 launched, it was even missing a previous life state, Toddlers. This upset family players in particular. Babies, too, don’t even count as a life state in this game, being tethered to their cribs.

While more should be done to improve the current life states, additional states should also be added. The inclusion of a preteen state would help to separate the 10 year old Sims from the 17 year old ones. 12 and 13 year old kids occupy their own sphere in life, struggling with the idea of trying to act grown up and begin dating while still playing tag in their free time.

Separating Elders into two states would also add realism to the game, as there’s a big difference between a gray haired 65 year old and a hunched over 90 year old. Some Sims could have chance cards, depending on their fitness levels and other attributes, which would determine whether they would die at the end of the Elder life stage, or progress to the Older Elder stage, where their hair would turn white and they would have to adopt the use of a cane or a walker. Adult Sims could be labeled as middle aged, and given more distinct features of aging (gray at the tips of their hair and slower gain in fitness skill).

#sims5 #thesims #simswishlist

[fashiontee1]

Fashion Tee | T-Shirt Printing

T Shirt Printing

Custom T Shirts A T-SHIRT? IT’S ACTUALLY VERY EASY

DESIGNING YOUR OWN T-SHIRT IS EASY.

USE OUR T-SHIRT STUDIO TODAY!

Before you start to create your own shirt, you’re going to have to choose a specific product. Fashiontee T-Shirt Printing offers a number of customizable clothing options, making it incredibly easy to create your picture-perfect tee. Once you’ve landed on a specific shirt, all you’ll need to do is specify a desired size and color. Once these basic steps have been completed, you can truly start to focus on the t-shirt design.

OUR GUARANTEE

Over the past year, we learn different way’s in the t-shirt printing industry and strived to provide a better service to our customer, As our commitment to our customer we provide the highest level of Printing using different style and method of printing such as Direct to Garment Printing, Screen Printing, Embroidery, and Digital Heat transfers

HIGH-QUALITY PRINTS

Fashion Tee Custom TShirt Printing Offer’s not just a print we strive to provide a high-quality T-Shirt Prints

100% PROUDLY AUSTRALIAN

We’re proud to be a 100% Australian based Custom T-Shirt company, We print right here in Sydney South West.

100% REFUNDABLE ON ERRORS

We offer 100% refundable on error’s or replacement of orders for such as ink stain, wrong image, wrong text

ESTABLISHED MORE THAN 10 YEARS

Fashion Tee Custom T-Shirt Printing has been in the industry for almost a decade and continue servicing Australia Nation Wide

FLEXIBLE BULK ORDERS

Bulk order discounts offer to any who would like to print from 50+ Items. The more you order, the more you SAVE!.

COURIERS FAST DELIVERY

Order posted within 3-6 Business days thru our multi-courier shipping freight depend on your location

Direct to Garment Printing

DTG digital printing a special kind of printer is used to apply water-based ink directly to the fabric of your product using inkjet technology. The fibers of the garment absorb this water-based ink to create your custom design or logo.

Screen Printing

Screen Printing, which is also known as Silk Screening, is a badass method of printing graphics on a t-shirt using thick inks that lay on top of the shirt rather than soaking into the shirt. Old School process but still works especially Large volume orders

Embroidery

Yet, another process printing on corporate wear and polo shirts embroidery is generally the best choice. Embroidery on these items is perceived as more prestigious. Embroidery is generally best for caps and outerwear too

Laser Heat Transfer / Vinyl

Heat Transfer is the printing method of applying specialty vinyl to garments through a heat press. This vinyl can be applied as a single layer or it can be layered for complex designs. Vinyl transfers can be used to print designs onto surfaces where the usual methods are not able to reach

You can design your own shirt, no matter which method you choose. Shop Clothing is all about giving you the best quality shirts exactly the way you want it.

We Customised your T-Shirts Printing needs, Use our Online T-Shirt Designer, Today. We have hundreds of free designs and high-resolution artwork & Cliparts for your t-shirts.

We can provide you with budget Unisex T-Shirts, Premium Quality T-shirt Brands and Streat Wear T-Shirts / Apparel and accessories at a lower cost.

our service for Custom T-Shirt Printing Sydney has over 10 years of experience in the custom apparel industry. We offer high-quality prints using traditional screen printing, Direct to garment printing, Heat Transfer T-Shirt Printing, and Embroidery solutions. If you have a need for t-shirt printing in Sydney we can help. We have a top of the range Dtg Printing that doesn’t require a setup fee and can handle bulk and small orders.

Our T-Shirt Printing Services include Screen Print Direct To Garment. Heat Transfers and Special Effects. T-Shirt-Printing Sydney delivers to all Sydney metropolitan areas including Sydney CBD,  Australia Wide

We stock a full range of garments and accessories of the highest quality including leisurewear, sportswear, workwear, and accessories. T-Shirt-Printing Sydney supply all major brands. Browse our online catalogs for full details. One-stop shopping for all your t-shirt printing Sydney needs.

Start designing your own custom and unique T-Shirts, Tees, Vees, and Tops online with our easy to use T-Shirt designer. We have a huge range of styles and sizes for Men, Women, and Children to suit any budget and style. You can then upload your own pictures and images.

to make your own unique custom designs for yourself, as a unique gift, a work team or group, sports team, club or hens and bucks parties. You can use your own images and pics to create your own special designs when creating your perfect T-Shirt, or you can upload from Facebook or Instagram to make your very own special design. You can save your templates and creations for later use or reordering too.

Design your own Custom T-shirt Online!

Since 2010 Fashion Tee has been the home of Australian custom t-shirt printing. Whether you have your own design ready or want to have fun designing your own t-shirt, this is the place to be. At fashion tee, we make t-shirt printing as fun, easy, and affordable as can be!

Design your own t-shirt!

That’s right, you can now design your own t-shirt using our exclusive online design lab. It’s absolutely free to use! You can upload your own photos, drawings, and pictures and add them to your own unique t-shirt. Personalise it even further with a heap of funky fonts and text effects. Everyone can now be their very own t-shirt designer. You’re only limited by your own creativity! All you need to get started is your limitless creativity!

A t-shirt for everyone!

We have a wide selection of t-shirts for all members of the family! From basic round neck t-shirts for men, women, and kids, we also have long sleeve tees for those colder days. Too hot? Then why not try personalizing a women’s scoop neck t-shirt, men’s tank top, or our new range of singlets for 2012. We have colours to suit all occasions and personalities. Stick to the staple white, black and grey or go funky with lime, blues, and even pinks!

Full colour t-shirt printing! Custom t-shirts with no limits!

Yes, we print full color onto any colour t-shirt. Say no to bland and boring one or two colour prints. Say YES to full digitally printed t-shirts! We use the latest in digital direct-to-garment printing to create your own custom tshirts. Don’t mistake it with ugly heat transfers or iron-on’s, this is NEW, Industrial grade digital printing used by the leading clothing manufacturers! It’s now available in Australia right here with Fashion Tee

No Minimum Orders or Setup Fees

Here at fashiontee T-shirt Printing, we HATE limitations. So unlike most other t-shirt printers out there we’ve totally scrapped minimum order requirements and setup fees. Since we’re online our prices are extremely competitive, each day is like a daily deal! So if you only need one custom t-shirt, we can do it! If you need ten or ten thousand we can do it too. We also have savings on bulk orders. Order 2 or more and get savings up to 20% off your entire order.

T-Shirt Printing – Expressing Yourself Through Your Clothes Custom T-Shirts

T-shirt printing is one of the best ways for you to express yourself and make your feelings known to the world. By showing the wild and wacky design imprinted on your t-shirt, you can let other people know how you feel or who you are as a person. Making customized t-shirts has become a popular hobby among youngsters, especially teenagers. If you roam around college and university campuses, you can see a lot of students wearing shirts with designs that are not common. Apart from the youngsters, some of the older members of society are into making custom t-shirts as well.

Being able to design your own t-shirts is a great way for you to explore your more artistic side. Even if you are not that skilled in drawing, you can still come up with some great ideas that you can have imprinted in your very own custom tee. Another great thing about t-shirt printing is that you can even make some money out of it by opening up your own shirt printing business.

Looking for a t-shirt printer in Melbourne? Check out our friends at Tee Junction who offer local custom t-shirt printing in the Melbourne area. You can design online or visit to see the various t-shirt options.

Custom T-Shirts – Good for Business

If you have the skills, the equipment, and the manpower to start up your own t-shirt printing business, then you should waste no time in getting it started. With the way that the internet has become more accessible nowadays, promoting your online business is now easier than ever. Social networking sites, like Facebook and Twitter, are two great examples of how you can circulate your product with the use of social media. You might think that this could be a hopeless case at first, but you should remember that the two sites mentioned above each have hundreds of millions of members. So there is still that small glimmer of hope that your business will get noticed by at least 10 out of every 100 people on either side.

Another thing that you can do to help attract more and more potential customers is to allow them to come up with their own designs for their shirts and have you print them. Giving people the freedom to customize to their heart’s content will help make their apparel look more personalized. Apart from giving them the freedom to create t-shirts, you can also expand your services to other apparel as well like pants, shorts, and hoodies.

Selling custom hoodies will allow your business to become more diverse and can definitely help in catching the attention of more and more customers.

Design Your Own T-Shirt – Practicing Your Craft

Being able to design your own t-shirt allows you to show people just how creative you can truly be, and it also lets you unleash the Da Vinci within you. The cool thing about making custom shirts is that there are no limits or boundaries as to what you can do. For example, you can design your shirt in a very macabre manner and still make it look cool. Remember that the keyword here is “personalized” and personalized shirts are neither bad nor good because the designs that they have been chosen by the wearer himself.

Now for those of you who think that coming up with a design for a t-shirt is as easy as pie, you are dead wrong. It takes more than just some simple drawings being shoved into t-shirt printers to come up with a design that you can proudly show to the world. What I am trying to say is that whenever you make a design for your t-shirt, it should be a representation of who you are and what you feel.

I know that what I’m trying to say here might sound a bit mundane for some, but if you ever get the chance to design your own t-shirt, then you will know what it feels like and how difficult it can be at times to come up with a design that can echo your feelings and sentiments to the rest of the world.

T-Shirt Printing and It’s Effects on an Individual

A Final Say on our Custom T-Shirts and  T-Shirt Printing

So what more can be said about t-shirt printing that has not already been mentioned? It is fun, exciting, allows people to be more creative, and can even provide you with a good option should you one day decide to start your own custom t-shirt printing business. You do not need to have a background in professional embroidery in order to make your own t-shirt designs. All you need are an active imagination and a good set of drawing hands. And if you aren’t that skilled of an artist, then you can ask a friend to do it for you.

T-Shirt Printing

[buntycake]

The Brothers and Wedding Day (Dress-Wearing MC)

Pride:

Diavolo having asked Lucifer to take care of some tasks before school, he met you at the entrance of RAD. On the steps of the school, illuminated by Devildom’s moon, Lucifer stood dressed up in a black suit and red vest that were tailored to perfection. He made you hope that you looked even a fraction as stunning.

The white dress with long laced sleeves that the two of you had picked out together had looked amazing – at least it had on the hanger. You owed it to Asmo for looking as good as you did. This morning he made it his goal to help you with your hair, makeup, and accessories this morning. Even if he was a few ideas away from going overboard, you were thankful.

So when his gaze met yours, eyes widening in surprise and a bright smile cracking over his face, your heart fluttered with happiness. He offered his arm as you reached the top of the steps and looked over your costume appreciatively. “Stunning, as always,” he’d complimented.

As you walked arm in arm through RAD, stares from the student body were abundant. Even Diavolo did a double-take when he met up with you two. He joked that you should hold a ceremony. After all, it would be a waste to look so good only for a school event.

 Greed:

Mammon had insisted on getting dressed together and ended up worming his way into your room. He claimed that he couldn’t risk someone seeing you in your dress before him. You were his human and he had to be first in everything. So, he stayed, and you dressed in the bathroom.

The dress you picked out was fitted to your body and flared at your knees. There was gold detailing on the skirt of the dress that faded at the waistline. You had thought that with all the gold accessories added on you would look garish, but looking at yourself in the mirror, you looked lavash. Like you bathed in money for fun.

Mammon was pacing nervously around the room when you exited the bathroom. He seemed to freeze and buffer when he caught sight of you. You couldn’t help but chuckle and took the chance to take in his appearance, too.

He looked roguish in a suit. Mostly because he didn’t button up his shirt, tighten his tie, or fix his hair. Of course, his black suit was accented with gold – you were his human, so you had to match.

He blinked furiously, finally breaking out of his daze. With surprising speed, he stepped forward and grabbed your hands, he got down on one knee. “Marry me.” You laughed out of surprise. Mammon insisted that he was serious and that he’d buy you a ring later.

Envy:

You’d never seen Levi sew until the first day of Spirit Week. That morning, you had tried putting on the beautiful, brightly colored wedding kimono he’d made for you, but with all the fabric you ended up tripping over yourself and tearing one of the layers while trying to put it on.

When you brought the torn kimono to his door, you expected him to be mad. Instead he just took it from your arms and shuffled you into his room. He pulled out a sewing machine from god knows where and within 10-15 minutes he had gotten it patched up.

You could barely hear him offering to help you put on the kimono as he murmured. Even so, you accepted the offer. As embarrassing as it was to be undressed in front of him, you had a feeling that Levi was even more embarrassed, if his flushed face was any indication. But he diligently helped you put on each layer of the outfit. His hands steady the entire time.

When he had finished, his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary. Then he excused himself and went to put on his own outfit. He exited his bathroom with a traditional black kimono and hakama – his sigil of envy embroidered on each shoulder. His blush returned when you told him he was handsome. From the corner of his room he produced a parasol and surprisingly bold this morning, he took one of your hands.

Even though your outfits weren’t as flashy as some others at RAD (looking at you Asmo), there was something more intimate to them. Walking hand-in-hand under a paper parasol, you almost feel like true newlyweds.

 Wrath:

Satan took a more historical approach to the prompt. Instead of dressing in modern wedding styles, he was set upon basing your costumes on a different era. So, the two of you researched weddings across the ages and decided on the Victorian Era. He had a suit and dress fashioned for the two of you – with a couple of modern touches, like less scratchy fabrics.

The day of, you had expected to look much more uncomfortable in your dress.  Afterall, the whole ensemble included stepping into a hooped petticoat, securing yourself into a corset, and getting the actual dress over all of those things. The whole ensemble had weight to it, but that morning, as you had examined yourself in the mirror, you almost felt like you were meant to wear this dress. The white dress managed to be simple with its modest frills yet striking and gave you a strange allure.

You were startled by a knock on the door. On the other side you found Satan, looking absolutely princely. He wore a traditionally blue morning coat with a white waistcoat and green hellebore flowers tucked in his coat pocket. It looked as if he tried to slick back his hair, but a few troublesome strands still managed to fall in his face.

Admittedly, you had felt shy under his gaze as he seemed to take in every element of you. He took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.  “You look absolutely exquisite.” With how hot your face became; you could have boiled a pot.

It turned out moving around in a hoop skirt was more difficult than you thought. It was a blessing that Satan was around to help when you got caught in doorways or needed help getting back to your feet. Even so, the two of you were the most elegant looking couple at RAD. It was like you had stepped out of a vintage photo.

 Lust:

Trust that Asmo has spent WEEKS planning for this day and you were absolutely dragged into that preparation. This included tearing through wedding boutiques looking for the perfect dress. Make no mistake, he gets to wear the wedding dress. Period.

Inevitably, none of the dresses met his expectations and he designed his own. Poor Levi was roped into helping make the dress. Once all that was completed, then it was your turn. Since you were insistent that you would wear a dress too, he helped you find a chic dress in a bridesmaid style. He assured you it was better not to try to compete with his beauty.

On the day of, you almost felt he was right. You saw the dress on the hanger before you saw it on Asmo because he insisted you get ready together so he could help you with your ensemble.

After Asmo’s 100 step self-care routine and getting dressed in your own outfit, he finally stepped out in his full costume. Draped in silvery organza that gathered on a floor like a blooming flower, his modesty barely saved by the plunge line, stark white sheath underneath the transparent fabric, Asmo looked beyond stunning. He forwent the traditional veil for a giant, wide brimmed lace hat.

Of course, you complimented him, and he ate it up. However, the rest of the morning was devoted to you. Your dress is a lustrous high-low cut, with a lace detailed bodice. If Asmo’s dress looks like a blossoming flower, then you look like a flower in full bloom. Together, the two of you were so dazzlingly, that the student body has a hard time looking at you directly.

At RAD, Asmo insisted on a photo shoot. Of course, he roped other students into it, too. He spent a decent part of the day photographing other’s outfits. When he showed you the glamour shots he took of you, you were floored. Even dressed in an outfit out of your comfort zone, Asmo had managed to capture you candidly – truly as yourself.

 Gluttony:

Honestly, Beel was just happy that you wanted to dress up with him. He went shopping with you to pick out outfits and worked to match his outfit to whatever dress you chose, but he didn’t really have an opinion on his own outfit. So, he ended up choosing a classical tuxedo.

The day of, he came to your door, a rose and sunflower bouquet in hand, and looking like the sweetest thing in the world. You felt the heat rising in your cheeks as you took the bouquet and compliments from him.

The two of you weren’t the flashiest couple at RAD, but you sure did get a lot of looks when Beel decided to carry you bridal style for the rest of the day. The action had Lucifer in a tizzy, but it just made you feel warm and loved to be tucked into his chest. Asmo just had to take a picture of you two like that. You were glad he did, since you now keep that photo tucked in a safe place.

The highlight of the day for Beel was absolutely the massive wedding cake that Barbatos made for lunch time. It had to have had at least a hundred tiers to it. The cake was the traditional white with intricate pink and red frosting roses as decoration. Beyond Barb’s beautifully crafted cake, Beel seemed to really appreciate the tradition of couples feeding cake to each other. Especially when he could use it as an excuse to kiss the remaining crumbs off your lips.

 Sloth:

Belphie decided he was going to wear a pajama suit to Wedding Day. You know, the ones with a suit printed on the front? Yeah, there was zero effort to be had for Spirit Week. So, you just decided to roll with it.

You found a white nightgown, some slippers, and used a bed sheet as your “veil.” Belphie couldn’t help but laugh when you went to retrieve him from the attic. It enough to prompt him to go to school that day. BUT you had to bridal carry him there. (Don’t worry, Beel helped you out if you weren’t strong enough.)

The two of you were clearly out of place in your pajamas and nightgown among the sea of white dresses and suit. You got plenty of odd stares from the other students as you passed them in the halls. Asmo was personally offended by the costumes you showed up in. Even more so because the two of you wouldn’t take a proper photo. The two of you looked like a walrus passed out on Ambien every time someone turned a camera on the two of you.

It wasn’t until the two of you started napping anywhere and everywhere at RAD that Lucifer began to rag on you. The temptation was too much for Belphie. He was wearing pajamas and your bed sheet veil made naps easily accessible. It was just too easy for the two of you to cuddle up together.

Apparently, Lucifer had been holding back a lecture on proper attire because it was Spirit Week but sleeping in the middle of the hallway was the last straw. The two of you got a scolding that was about half a day long, but according to Belphie, it was completely worth it. He could never regret spending a day creating mischief with you.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me spirit week #obey me gn!mc #obey me gender neutral mc

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

A View To A Winchester (Part 10)

Series Page

Summary: Julie’s starting a new life after divorce in a home with a very nice view.

A Dean X OFC story. I got this idea staring out the view of my home office window and thinking how nice it would be to have Dean Winchester to ogle.

Section Word Count: 4,220    

Section Content: fluff, flirting, arousing, kissing, R-rated language, dirty talk, smut, breast play, Dean likes to use his mouth

~~~~~

What little air was left in her lungs released at his statement. He smiled and bent down. His mouth pressed to hers. Her lips parted. He took care of any remaining breath she had with a deep inhale through his mouth. He broke for a second, allowing her to gasp. A dart of his tongue outlined her top lip, then her bottom.

“You taste so good.” He whispered. His tongue delved into her open and waiting mouth.

She moaned, following his lead to explore his hungry mouth.

He only gave her a few seconds to do so, shifted her away in a slight push, sighed, and kissed her forehead. He spoke through a kiss swept over the skin. “Would you show me your bedroom?”

All she could do was nod.

He tugged her out of the office by one hand in a backwards stroll. Once in the landing he spun behind her and maintained a firm grip on her hand. At first, her mind perceived it as some sort of awkward dance move he had not executed very well. But he’d imprisoned her right arm, bending it at the elbow, tight between his chest and her back. The unexpected handling caused her chest to arch forward. Jesus, he’s got me restrained. The realization would have sparked fear with any other man in any other situation. But her heart was racing due to the excitement of what this dominant display could mean for the events unfolding.

“Too much?” He asked. She responded with a slight shake of her head. He groaned with eagerness and wrapped his other arm over her chest, forcing her to straighten and lean into him. “I’m going to enjoy finding out what you like.” Taut muscles leaned into her curves. “Wild guess, but I’m thinking good ole Steve didn’t take care of most of your needs.” His massive thigh wedged into and parted her shaky legs. It rocked and shimmied against her ass and the back of her thighs, forcing her to try and keep balanced under his grip. A pleasant friction built and built in her core. The growing bulge of his own excitement pressed into her lower back. “The sweet ones can be pretty kinky, with the right stimulation, I’ve found.” Oh my God. The man was manipulating and shifting her panties - with his goddamn thigh - to arouse her even more. How many times do you do something like that to be able to do it so well? The cotton bunched up between her ass cheeks turning it into a thong. Fabric caught into her wet folds and rubbed against her clit. She moaned.

He swiped his nose and chin across the slope of her neck. Her bare left shoulder was introduced to his mouth grazing over flesh. He lit up every cell with his touch. “Bedroom.” He whispered the demand after nipping and pulling at a bit of skin with his teeth.

Her eyelids fluttered. “I-I don’t even know my name right now, let alone where my bedroom is.” She bit her lip and closed her eyes at his devilish laugh.

He released her arm from the stronghold and ran his hands up and down her sides in a gentle, soothing gesture. She felt the immediate absence of his heat and support when he pried away. He whispered again in her ear. “Your name is Julie. I’m Dean. And, if you can’t remember where your bedroom is soon, I’m fucking you right here, right now, on this rug.”

Her eyes jolted open at the announcement.

“I can’t wait any longer, Jules. You’re the one that said we deserve some good times, remember?” He licked a trail from her ear, along her jawline and captured her mouth in a searing kiss. Both arms enveloped her in warmth and a feeling of security. The juxtaposition of Dean’s restraining actions and passionate displays was making her head spin. “Getting to know you, it’s only making me want you more.” He was confessing again, leaning into her back.

Julie tried in vain to quiet the beating of her heart. She listened and focused on the beauty of him. His eyes closed and face bathed in an amber glow. Dean radiated light and heat like a fallen angel. Her fingers wrapped around as much of his forearms clutching over her chest as they could. She squeezed at the skin.

His eyes blinked open slow. He returned, present with her again. Green eyes captured the incandescence and flamed like molten gold. He swallowed and whispered, “You make me want to believe I deserve a good thing.” Dean swooped in. His lips and tongue caressed any part of her he could reach. The action became frenzied. His erection grew harder.

He really is going to fuck me on this rug if I don’t… She broke from his lips and nodded to the closed door to their right. “There.” He freed her long enough from the bear hug so she could get two steps ahead of him. That was the only head start she was allowed. By the time her hand was on the knob, he was pressed against her back again. His large hand covered and turned with hers to open the door.

Their bodies spilled clumsily over each other into the dark bedroom. His hands spun her around so his mouth could zero in on hers again with laser precision. After what Julie could only describe as some fucking hot tonsil hockey, he whispered, “I need to see what I’m going to do to every inch of this body.” His forehead bent down and rested against hers.

“Jesus, Dean.” It was a useless attempt, but she tried to get a hold of her breathing.

He cupped her face, licked her lips and asked, “How do you want it, sweetheart? Mood lighting or porn spotlight?” She felt his grin against her chin. “Your call... but I gotta see you.”

He groaned when she pulled away from his grasp. Feeling her way through the familiar room she tapped on a lamp on the closest night stand. If she turned around to look at him, she knew he’d pounce. She hastened to the other side of the bed and tapped on the matching lamp.

“Mood lighting.” He confirmed with a nod. The queen bed draped in a pale blue comforter served as a temporary barrier. His fingers trailed over the puffy fabric. “Meet me halfway?” He smiled, not breaking his stare, and strolled along the edge toward the foot of the bed.

She walked without hesitation to his waiting figure. He reached out and pulled her into his embrace. Fingers tangled into her wavy hair. The tips massaged her scalp. She leaned into his strokes like a contented cat.

“So pretty.” His swollen, pink lips curled into a half hearted smile. “There’s so much I should tell you first, Julie.” He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding her gaze up to meet his.

She shook her head. “Only thing you need to tell me is that you like to talk a lot during sex, hot stuff.”

He chuckled. “You like it when a guy talks dirty?”

“I know I’ll like it when you talk dirty.” She leaned up and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. The lip was plump and slick. She released it with a soft slurp. He moaned, long and deep. Her inner walls constricted, commanded by his sound. “God. I think you could make me cum just from all the little noises you make.”

“Hm.” He licked his bottom lip. “We can give that a try another time. But, I need to feel you cum tonight.” His hands clutched at her lower back, then grabbed two handfuls of her ass and squeezed. He grinned. “Will you get nice and loud for me? What kinda reaction can I expect?”

“Depends on what you plan on doing. We talkin’ chick flick romance, like the back seat of the car in Titanic, or the taco scene in Cabana Nights?”

His eyes popped open. “Did you seriously just reference Casa Erotica?” The boyish grin returned, laced with intense lust. “Oh, you’re gonna be sooo much fun.” Julie grinned and peppered the side of his neck with kisses. Her hands tunneled between the multiple shirt layers and tried in vain to pull his overshirt down those massive shoulders. “Let me.” He offered upon hearing her gasp in frustration. There was some shuffling and maneuvering of hands and arms. A swish of fabric later and she smiled at the reveal of only the white t-shirt covering his chest. His shoulders and arms were super defined, well muscled, but not turbo charged into steroid territory. “My turn.” His hands grabbed the hem of her top and pulled it up and over her head and tossed it on a nearby chair. She grinned as his breath snatched. “Sexy.” His fingers ran down her neck and rested on the swell of a breast in a push up bra covered in black lace.

“I thought you’d like it.”

“So much.” He sat on the edge of the bed, spread his bow legs wide and pulled her standing frame between the empty spot between them. “Tell me.” Hands stroked up and down her back. His mouth bathed her cleavage in hot breath as he stared up. “What do you like? Besides dirty talk?”

She bit her lip. “What happened to needing to fuck me right now?”

“We’re here. No turning back now. Might as well file a couple things away for future reference.”

She whispered, “I like your mouth.”

His grin turned cocky. “Have you thought about what my mouth could do to you?” A light kiss placed on her left breast made her shiver. The fact that he continued to gaze up at her while he licked the flesh alongside the bra cup only made it worse. His hands rounded her shoulders and pulled at the straps so they draped over her biceps. “Cause I have. I told you it was getting to be a problem, all those thoughts I was having about you.” He tugged the lacey cup material down with his teeth. His nose brushed against her nipple first, circling it. She groaned when his lips sucked the taut nub. On instinct, she arched her back into his hungry mouth. More happy, content moans rose up from Dean’s throat and vibrated against her skin. Her head tipped backward as he suckled, then used his tongue and teeth. He let the tit pop out long enough so he could unclasp her bra and remove it before working the other. “Hm.” He got his hands into the kneading. “Like me sucking your tits?”

Fuck. The voice and the face and the body and the skills of this man. Her mouth opened. She stuttered out an, “uh-huh,” and nodded up at the ceiling.

“You’ve got beautiful nipples.” He took each one between his fingers and twisted lightly, then pushed her breasts closer together so he had them within easy reach. Back and forth he went, licking and sucking, creating the most delicious noises. “Really sensitive? Bet you’ve cum from just this before, haven’t you?”

She nodded again, feeling the heat flood through her body.

“Goddamn.” He mumbled into her cleavage. “Let me know how good this feels. Wanna hear you, baby.”

Her face fell forward along with tendrils of hair, curtaining her expression. Cheeks burned hotter and redder than the rest of her skin. Her eyelids pressed tight shut. She bit her lip, flustered. She felt one of Dean’s hands skirt up over her bare skin to sweep the strands she hid behind, away from her face.

The deep voice was softer, encouraging now. “Let me hear what you’re thinking. All of it. It’s okay.” His chin dipped and bobbed against her skin as he spoke. “I’ve got you.” A hand trailed down her arm until his fingers threaded through her own and clasped tight. “You’re safe with me, Jules.”

Safe. She gasped at the reassurance. Once open, her eyes inspected him. He looked so enamored. She became empowered by the lusty green eyes and parted mouth anticipating her declaration. The skin around his lips was red from all his hard work. The entire scene filled her with a nasty sense of confidence. Her free hand fingered through his hair. “Feels so good, your mouth all over my tits.” The confession she released was low and gritty in tone. He licked his lips and smiled in pride. “Suck them. Hard.” The voice uttering the directive didn’t even sound like her own.

A slight raise of one of Dean’s brows and Julie tugging at his hair preceded his grunt in obligation. He didn’t hold back on either request, his mouth a vacuum, engulfing as much of her as possible. His cheeks hollowed out. The expertise of his tongue showed no mercy either, circling the nipple in the warmth and wet until it was raw and super sensitive. And he stared at her the whole time under heavy lids, eyes drunk with bliss, while she moaned and praised. “Yeah, Dean. Feels so good.”

He eased off eventually and came up for air, massaging her back. “Sweet and filthy all rolled into one, huh?” His fingers pulled her hair back past her shoulders again. “Can I fuck you now?”

Julie nodded, pushed to the edge of an orgasmic cliff. Her body tingled. “Yes, please.”

He laughed, rose, and grabbed at the hem of his t-shirt, readying to pull it up and over his head. He stopped to nod. “Strip, sweetheart. And, get on the bed.”

“Only fair if you take that off first.” She heaved, her bare breasts rising as she tried to catch her breath.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Her eyes deep in concentration and waiting for the physical perfection she was about to witness, all of her other senses got in a queue. It took a few seconds for her to notice the change in Dean’s expression. He stiffened and not in a sexual way. Arms fell to his side in a defensive posture. Her hearing shot back to the front of the line. “Is that your doorbell?” he asked.

“W-what?” She heard it the second time. Shit. “Yeah.”

Dean stared at his wristwatch. “It’s ten o’clock.” His hands gripped and released. “What the hell?”

The doorbell rang again with urgency. A quick three tap press this time. “I have no idea.”

He darted over to the chair to toss the discarded shirt in her general direction. She hurried to pull it on over her chest. He found his checkered shirt and twirled it over his head and slid his arms into the sleeves. “Come on.” He extended a hand out. She grabbed it and they headed out of the bedroom to the landing.

“Dean…” she started. Her arousal mingled with uncertainty and fear at the unexpected disturbance. Dean’s overreaction to whoever was at the door was unsettling as well. It was like a switch had been flipped in his head.

A forceful gaze silenced her, he raised a finger to his lips, and then peeked over the rails down to the first floor. He motioned with a nod to the steps. “We go down slow, not a lot of noise.”

At the bottom step he raised a hand, in what appeared to be a military gesture, and whispered, “You stay far behind me, okay, when I open the door?” He shook his head. “Should have brought my gun with me.”

“On our date?” She asked in a hush, partly in jest. The look on his face had turned stoic and serious in a way she had yet to see. She gulped and then posited, “It’s probably nothing.” The sound of the doorbell clanged over them, loud and obnoxious, and she jumped.

A male voice attached to the shadows shifting over the front door glass called from the outside. “Hello?”

Dean’s posture slackened. His shoulders dropped. He sighed. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

He rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, shaking his head at Julie apologetically. “It’s uh, it’s a friend of mine.”

Julie felt her brows bunch together. “A friend?”

“Yeah. I’ll be right back, give me a minute? I’ll go outside and talk to him. It’s probably nothing, but…”

She crossed her arms over her chest with a heightened awareness she was braless. “It’s alright, you can invite him in.”

He sighed again. “Sure?”

“Sure.”

When Dean opened the door, a man with a confused stare peered into the doorway. “Dean.” Deep lines etched into his forehead; almost as deep as his voice. “I’ve been calling.” He walked into the entryway without being asked inside. He stopped and stood quite close to Dean, their noses almost about to greet each other with an eskimo kiss.

Dean nodded in a slight gesture, leaning back a bit. “Hi, Cas. I must’ve left my phone in the car.” Realization passed over his face. “And, you saw my car in this driveway…”

“We have to talk.” Cas, a bit shorter in stature, narrowed his eyes at Dean and inhaled. His stare worked over Dean’s frame, up, down, then up again. He cocked his head in Julie’s direction. “I’m interrupting something.” The monotone voice made it impossible to discern if he was making a statement or asking a question. He wore what looked like some sort of retail uniform. A crooked, bright yellow name tag rested on the left lapel of a royal blue vest. Tight tan pants gave him a hipster look.

Dean scratched the back of his neck and closed the door. “Cas. This is Julie. This is her house.”

Julie attempted a smile at the quirky man. I thought my social skills were bad. “Hi.” She lifted a hand up in a greeting, keeping her arms crossed.

“Hello.” Cas nodded and attempted to step over closer. Dean hindered his movement with a clasp on his shoulder.

“What’s going on, Cas?”

“It’s Friday night. We have our poker game every Friday when you aren’t out on a case.” He stated the details with a blank expression. “I sensed you were in the area. When I got done with my shift I came to your house but you weren’t there. I called and you didn’t answer.” His gaze ran up and down Julie’s figure. She gulped. “I found your car. Here.” His eyebrows raised a bit as he looked back to Dean. A hint of a grin danced on his lips. “Are you two… playing poker?”

Julie pursed her lips and quashed a grin. Knowing the blush was forming, she stared down at the floor. Dean cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Ah, no.”

“Hm.” Cas added.

“I’m sorry I forgot to tell you that I had plans tonight.” Dean offered.

“It’s alright. I was concerned.”

The three of them stood in awkward silence.

“Can I get you something to drink, Cas?” Julie cursed internally at her inability to be impolite.

Dean’s eyes widened.

Cas produced a genuine smile at the question. “I’m fine. Thank you.” He stepped quick in front of her before Dean had a chance to stop him. Personal space, dude. The proximity gave her the opportunity to take in the sky blue of his eyes. If he wasn’t so odd, he’d be quite attractive. “Dean hasn’t mentioned you.” He turned back to Dean. “Why haven’t you mentioned Julie?”

Eyes closed and his head hung low, Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was trying to avoid something like this from happening, Cas.”

“Hm.” Cas nodded, processing. “Are you on a date?” The question was directed at Julie now.

“Yes.” Julie dragged out the word and caught Dean smiling at her, shrugging.

He mouthed I’m so sorry.

“I’m interrupting.” He spun on his heels and faced Dean. “We do need to talk, though, Dean. It’s about Jack.”

Dean’s animated apology faded. “Is he alright?”

“Yes. I’m just having some... difficulties.”

“Can it wait?” Dean mumbled the ask, his eyes hopeful and gesturing towards Julie.

Even though Julie understood the innuendo and the request Dean asked of his friend, the obtuse individual did not. “No, not really. I’ve already put off my need to discuss this. I was expecting to talk to you during our poker game tonight.”

Julie waved at Dean over Cas’s shoulder and tried her best to give him an understanding nod.

Dean sighed. “Alright. Why don’t you head back to my house. I’m just going to say goodnight to Julie.”

Cas nodded at Julie. “Nice meeting you.” He marched in his friend’s direction. Dean opened the door in time so he didn’t have to slow the pace. Cas stepped down, turned a sharp ninety degrees like a soldier, and disappeared from their view down the path.

Dean clicked the door closed and shrugged. “I’m sorry about all this.”

Julie grinned. Her arms relaxed to her sides and she motioned to the couch behind her. “We could extend that goodnight to include a few minutes of you fucking me?”

Dean chuckled loud, letting his whole body in on the joke. He settled down and strolled over to Julie. “We could.” He glanced over her frame. His hands reached out and pulled her into his space by the curve of her hips. “Certainly wouldn’t take me long to be ready for that task.” He bent down and kissed her forehead. “But then I’d want to stay.”

Her hands rested on his shoulders. “How long have you known Cas?”

“Way too long.” Dean stared into her eyes. “He’s like family.”

She nodded. “And, Jack is…?”

“Cas’s son.” He kissed her lips. She sighed, relishing the touch and the feeling of want behind it. He pulled away from the kiss. Their body weight shifted side to side together in a slight, silent tempo that only they could hear. “At that age, I guess, where he doesn’t want to listen to his old man. Lots of rebelling.”

“So, Cas comes to the rebel for advice?” Julie pushed.

“I was not the rebel in the family. Good little soldier for my dad.” They stayed like that for a while, staring and swaying. Dean shook himself out of whatever thoughts were firing in that minefield of his brain. “I should go or he’ll just come back again.”

Julie giggled. “He’s interesting.”

“He’s… special.” Dean left the Cas discussion at that. He stepped back to hunch down so he was at Julie’s eyeline. “But you, sweetheart. Damn if you aren’t turning out to be full of pleasant surprises.” He grinned. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“I hope so.” She smiled.

“More in store, right?” His eyebrows cocked up.

“God, there better be.”

He smiled and pecked her lips, not giving her time to react and kiss him back. He spun and extended an arm behind him, which she clasped onto with both hands. As he pulled them to the door, she pulled back like a tug of war. It was no contest, though. He reached the door in a confident stroll and lifted his jacket off the coat hook with his free hand. “I’ll check in with you in the morning.”

“Okay.”

He let himself out only to turn at the sound of her following him outside. He laughed. “What are you doing?”

“Walking you to your car.” She was working the innocent angle for all she could.

“But then I’ll just have to walk you back to your door.” He stated. His hands rested on her shoulders, blazer draped over a thick forearm. “Night.”

Julie frowned.

Dean’s expression crumbled into exasperation. “Don’t do that. I just want to fuck that frown upside down.” He gave her a cheesy grin.

She laughed and tapped the side of her head. “I’ll have to file that one away for future reference.”

He backed down the path, facing her, and pointed with intent at her figure. “Hey, you’re the one that mentioned the taco scene from Cabana Nights. We’re totally doing that one day!” He gave her a wave. When he reached Baby and bounded down the steps, Julie watched dumbstruck as he launched his body off the ground. The forty three year old used the momentum to slide along the car’s hood on his perfect ass and land solid and steady on his feet onto the driver’s side. He gave himself props with a fist pump and grinned. “Skills.” He called out in the dark, “Night, Jules.”

The cool evening air dried Julie’s open mouth. Dean started up the car and backed down the drive. He revved up the engine once out in the street, extended her a wave and that killer smile, along with three taps of his horn. “Get inside!” he ordered.

Her feet moved as commanded. When the door shut, she heard him peel out and wake up the entire neighborhood for the quarter block drive back to his house. Tingles of arousal crept along her skin over all the places his hands and mouth had touched. A head to toe shiver worked its way through her body. She leaned against the door for support, grinning, thrilled and exhilarated. I’m going to get fucked, good and proper, by a goddamn Duke of Hazzard.

Part 11

Series Page

#dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfic series #supernatural fanfiction #dean x ofc #dean winchester smut #spnfanficpond #dean winchester fluff #spn fanfiction

[owlish-peacock36]

A Piece of Home: New Year’s Eve Pt. 2/2

I know it’s almost a week late, but that’s just how I roll... Enjoy!!!

9:45 pm

She had 15 minutes--15 more minutes until Jamie Fraser himself was to show up at her door.

Shit.

It was strange; Claire wasn’t one that worried  overmuch about her appearance. She knew, strictly speaking, that she was fairly attractive, despite the ever expanding width of her hips. But there she was, zhooshing her hair and plucking at her dress in the mirror. She had just enough time for a couple last minute preparations: one more swipe of mascara to top off her smokey eye makeup, a thin layer of neutral pink lipstick, small earrings for a little sparkle. There. It was as good as it was ever going to be.

But it definitely wasn’t bad at all.

A knock at her door almost caused her heart to jump out of her chest.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. Damn his punctuality.

Slipping on her black ankle boots (heeled for a little height boost) and throwing on a leather jacket (for extra warmth), she went to answer the door.

***

He was nervous. That was a damn understatement. Jamie could practically feel the sweat dripping down his spine. Gross. That wasn’t exactly the impression he wanted to make on Claire.

It was time, though. Breathing deeply, he raised a tentative fist to her door.

“Coming!” Claire’s muffled voice replied through the wood.

Ten seconds passed before she answered the door. It took all the effort Jamie could muster to stop his jaw from dropping.

Suddenly, he felt entirely underdressed in his simple olive oxford and dark denim.

She was stunning. Of course, Jamie always thought she was stunning, even as a disheveled college student at 8am classes. But that was understated; she liked to blend in.

There was no blending in this evening.

Her dress, the deep color of fine wine, clung to every curve and dip of her body. He wished to spin her around so he could see every curve.

Don’t be a dog. Her arse isn’t yours to fondle.

Her hair was as wild as ever—a dark storm cloud around her impeccably made up face.

Jamie realized then that he was staring. “Claire, ye look incredible.”

A pretty blush colored her cheeks. “Thanks. So do you.” Her small finger flicked his shirt collar. “That green looks great with your hair.”

He felt his cheeks pinken.

Damn it.

“Thank ye. Shall we?”

“We shall.”

***

Blurs of forest and evening skies flew past Jamie’s car window. He had been driving for 20 minutes; Claire wondered how much longer he would continue.

“Where does your friend live?”

“No much farther.”

The houses became sparser as they grew in size.

“This seems like a...uh...wealthy neighborhood.”

“Oh, aye. It definitely is. John’s an entrepreneur. His partner, Hector, is a doctor. They can more than afford to live here.”

“Oooh, I didn’t know you had such rich connections.”

“Mmhmm. It’s good to have friends in high places,” he chuckled. “Nay, John’s a good friend, though. We’ve known each other since we were lads.”

“Well, I will be happy to meet him, then.”

***

Whatever Claire was expecting, it wasn’t what stood before her.

Mansion. That was the word that immediately came to mind. Jamie’s friends lived in a mansion. The outside was completely constructed of stone--light in color and old-worldly. Floor-to-ceiling windows took up most of the facade, allowing for inner lights to spill onto the grass outside. Two small towers took residence on the front corners.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ… Did this used to be a castle?

An array of automobiles sat in the horseshoe driveway, with people milling about in between. Suddenly, Claire felt very nervous.

How many people are here?

“Are ye coming, Sassenach?” Jamie had already exited the car, waiting for his date.

No. “Just a second.”

Taking a deep breath and brushing off her dress, she went to join him.

“There ye are.” A grin spread across his face, pulling at the small dimple in his chin. Claire had the sudden urge to kiss that tiny indention. The urge was forgotten, though, when Jamie’s large hand slipped into her own, intertwining their fingers. She hoped he couldn’t hear her heart hammering. “Let’s go in, then.”

***

If the outside of the house was magnificent, the inside was resplendent--decorated in warm tones that set the entire home aglow. The golden lights lit Jamie’s hair as he walked beside Claire, a homing flame.

Beautifully dressed guests littered the floor, drinks in hand and smiles turned on. Claire could hear the faint, thumping beat of bass heavy music.

“John’s probably upstairs. That’s where the dancing is.”

“What, is there a dance floor upstairs?” Jamie’s lack of answer spoke loud enough. “Jesus. Does he have his own bowling alley in this house, as well?”

“Nay, but there is a hot tub in the back.” With an attempted wink (both eyes closed in an owlish blink), he grabbed her arm and led her to the center of the house where the staircase stood. It was wooden, reclaimed and stained dark. The steps curved upward in a confusing spiral shape.

“That must be hell if you’re drunk…” She mused.

“Aye. Tis.” Another owlish blink, and they began their ascent. Thankfully, the staircase was wide, allowing for them to walk side-by-side.

“You’re speaking from experience?”

“I dinna ken what yer talking about…”

“Jamie, answer the question: Have you, or have you not fallen down these stairs?”

“I dinna think--”

“It’s a yes or no question, James.”

“Yes! Alright? Twice!”

“What? You didn’t learn the first time?!”

The two fell into a fit of giggles as they entered the second floor landing. The music became increasingly louder as the lights dimmed.

“Excuse me,” a voice came from the shadows. “I hear fun!”

The voice appeared as a man, well-dressed and handsome, with slick blond hair and a drink in his hand.

“John!”

“Hullo, Jamie!”

They embraced as only men do, complete with pats on the back. Claire stood off to the side, not wanting to get in the middle of their friendship.

When they broke apart, Jamie spoke: “John, this is Claire.”

“Claire, huh?” Pale brows waggled suggestively. Claire wondered how drunk this man was. He stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Well, Claire. I’m John. Jamie’s best mate. Welcome to my home.”

Claire grasped his hand in her own. “It’s a pleasure, John. And your home is wonderful.”

“Thank you very much. We like it well enough. I’m not sure where Hector ran off to, though…”

“Maybe I’ll find him on my way to get a drink,” Jamie interjected. “Do ye want anything, Claire?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine.”

“John, ye need a refill?”

“No, no. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“I’ll be right back then.”

Jamie descended the stairs again, and John looped his arm through Claire’s.

“Come on, dear. Let’s dance.”

“Oh, I’m not a dancer…”

“Neither am I, but it is fun.”

Claire couldn’t resist the pull of the music, John’s infectious smile, or his arm grabbing hers. He led her to the room on the right where the music manifested. Opening the door, Claire was greeted by a plethora of bodies, writhing about in the multi-colored disco lights. The sound bursting through the speakers was unfamiliar, yet tantalizing; she couldn’t stop the slight sway of her hips.

“You’ve got it, love.” John wrapped an arm around her waist familiarly. Not usually one for unwarranted touches, Claire found a comfortability with her new friend; she didn’t mind his touches. “But, it’s more fun in the middle.”

The two weaved through the humidity of people, ducking beneath flying arms and dodging the pulse of bodies. They stopped at a clear space near the center of the room.

“Alright! Let’s go!” Releasing her, John began to move his hips in time with the music. He said he couldn’t dance; he was a liar. “Come on, Claire!”

She tried, shaking her body awkwardly. She knew she had a good sense of rhythm, but her limbs swung stiffly making her look very much like a puppet.

“Loosen up!” Easy for him to say—he was at least four drinks deep. Gripping her hands again, he shook her arms vigorously. “Loosen.” Shake. “Up.” Shake.

“I’m trying!”

But he did not let go. Instead, he began to lead their dance, showing her the ropes. She felt much more comfortable with his guidance.

“Am I missing all the fun?” A low burr murmured in her ear.  Claire whirled around to find Jamie grinning, two drinks in hand. One was handed to her

“Jamie! Thanks! John was just trying to teach me to dance.”

“And how is that going?”

“Awful.”

“It is not!” John interjected. “You’re not as horrible a dancer as you think. Besides, we were having a good time. That’s what’s important!”

“Weel… Ye won’t mind if I cut in, then, will ye?”

“Not at all. I need to find Hector anyway. I’ll see you two around, alright?”

They waved goodbye as John ducked through the crowd.

“He’s a good one.”

“Aye. I like him weel enough. Now. It is my turn to dance with ye.”

“Oh, Jamie, I don’t—“

He wasn’t accepting excuses. Grasping her free hand like John had, he began to move—a frantic shaking of the hips and hopping that jostled his curls. His happiness was contagious, and Claire found herself mirroring his moves.

“Woohoo!”

And so they drank and danced. Claire could feel her hair growing from the heat and sweat. So much for the careful styling that took her an hour...

As if reading her mind, Jamie leaned in and whispered in her ear: “Ye look so beautiful, Claire.”

He had said it earlier, but the way his breath caressed her skin as he spoke so earnestly made her shiver. “Thank you.”

They began swaying closer, then—his fingertips gently dipped into her hips as her hands twisted into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I’m glad ye came here with me.”

“Me too.”

The two continues to dance, the fronts of their bodies melding together and their hips rolling in time with the heavy beat. Claire could feel every inch of him against her. Overcome with arousal, she pressed her forehead against his.

“Jamie, I—“

“IT’S COUNTDOWN TIME, EVERYONE!” John’s voice boomed over the speakers. Jamie and Claire started at the interruption, but did not break apart.

“10! 9!”

Claire’s fingers wound deeply into Jamie’s hair, scratching his scalp. He moaned gently at the sensation.

“8! 7!”

Jamie pulled her tighter, flush against his own body.

“6! 5!”

His hands spanned her entire back, holding her close.

“4! 3!”

She licked her lips.

“2! 1!”

Lips pressed together.

“Happy New Year!”

It was an explosion of feeling, much more passionate and wild than the kiss they shared at Christmas. Mouths opened, and their breath mingled. Jamie’s tongue probed hesitantly, and Claire welcomed him enthusiastically. A small moan vibrated through her body, shaking them both.

And as other couples began to pull apart, Jamie and Claire remained stuck together, enjoying the feeling of the other’s lips.

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #a piece of home #new years eve au #part 2 #jamie x claire

[honeybee-hannahh]

Without you | Calum Hood

Summary: Calum helps you clean up your childhood house, after your mom passes away. 

Warnings: Mentions death of a parent. 

Word Count: 2k 

Author’s note: Flash backs are in italics. 

“Am I speaking with Lisa’s daughter?” a cold voice asked from the other end of a phone call “yes this is her, can I ask who is calling?” you asked hesitantly “I am your mother’s doctor here at Penrose Hospital in California, we are calling to inform you that your mother's condition has worsened and we think it would be best if you came in so we could talk about the next step.” your stomach dropped you immediately knew what he meant, while she hadn't been sick for long, you knew she wasn’t getting any better but you never expected it to happen this fast. 

You were there the day she passed away, in the bleak hospital room, surrounded by a few friends. No longer sure if she could still hear you, but you always stayed. You watched as she took her last breath. It had been less than two months, since you had found out she was sick. You never knew just how sick she was until the day you came home and found her passed out barely breathing. Your breathing stopped as you raced for your phone dialing 911 before you even had a second thought.  And now less than two months later she was gone. Just like that everything changed.

Death comes as a shock, and is almost never expected in someone who is only 48 years old. You spent the next month in bed, hardly moving to shower or eat, unless Calum forced you to. You felt empty, numb, everyday felt like a thousand without her. You never thought that at 21 you would be motherless.

“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?” Calum asked squeezing your hand lightly “you can take a few more days love.” you close your eyes taking a deep breath, it had been a month since you had been outside of the house Calum and you shared “no I’m ready, I need to do this.” you took a step towards the front door of your childhood house, your  hands shaking as you reached for your keys to unlock the bright red door. You stood in the doorway of the house, letting the memories rush back to you.

*7 years ago* “Calum did you take my phone?” you yelled tearing the living room apart, all you could hear as a response was him laughing which was more than you  needed to hear, to know that he had taken it. You rolled your eyes walking into the kitchen “Jason said he can’t wait to see you again, sweetheart.” he mocked sticking his tongue out. “Not funny Cal,” you reached for your phone taking it out of Calum's hands. “Ew why is it so warm?” you yelled almost dropping it onto the kitchen counter, Calum laughed holding his sides, “you did not put it down your pants again.” he shrugged “you’re so gross.” you yelled lunging for him.

You could feel the tears start to well in your eyes, Calum lightly placed his hand on your shoulder snapping you out of your thoughts. “Are you okay?” he questioned “yeah, - yeah sorry, I just we have so many memories here. I mean I grew up in this house, my whole childhood is within these walls,” you took a few steps inside running your hand along the wall it had been almost a year since you were here last “I fell in love with you inside this house.” You stopped walking to turn and look at Cal who had been looking at the pictures that were hanging on the walls now covered in a thin layer of dust. “You will always have these memories my love, they will always be with you when you need them the most. Just like your mom will always be with you from now on, she’ll always be right by your side. ” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders holding you tightly against his chest, you let your head loll back against him, allowing yourself to relax for a moment. “Do you remember when we bought jiffy pop and burned it on the shove,” he asked, you let a soft laugh fall from your lips “I had never seen your mom so mad before, the house smelt like burnt popcorn all night.” “You know she never let me cook popcorn on the stove after that night, i honestly don’t think she trusted me to cook ever again.” You smiled thinking back at the fond memories that this house held.

You ran your hand along the smooth wall of your childhood bedroom, the bright blue paint was cool to the touch, you begged your mom when you were 13 to paint it anything other than the god awful hot pink color it had been.

“Mom please I’m a teenager now and I don’t like pink anymore it’s such a baby color and I want to have a cool room, please pretty please.” you must have begged her on end for weeks before she agreed to finally let you paint your room blue. You never knew there were so many different shades of blue, the first day you both went to the paint store you couldn’t pick one single color, you must have come home with at least 10 different shades of blue. “Cal do you think deep sky blue or do you think cornflower would look better?” you had narrowed it down to your two favorite shades, “I think they look exactly the same.” he mumbled distracted by the video game he was currently playing, you lightly pushed his shoulder, “pick one please I can’t make up my mind.” You pouted handing him the paint samples. “Cornflower.” he said simply before turning his attention back to the video game.

You sat down on the cold wood floor opening the drawer to your night stand, you started filling the box next to you with memories you pulled out a large stack of polaroids, letting the memories of unforgettable nights flood your mind. Countless notebooks filled with poems, and stories of how you thought my life would be, books you started to write but never finished. You closed the first box placing the tape along the top. Calum knocked lightly on the door, making you jump slightly, “I found something I think you’ll want to see.” he gave you a small smile and offered his hand helping you up. “I was wrapping up the pictures from the living room and I found these.” he handed you a stack of cards, your  breath caught in your throat, you knew what they were, it was every card your mom had written you from my first birthday all the way up until your most recent 21st birthday, you moved back towards the couch collapsing completely, letting your tears fall freely for the first time that day. “I can’t believe she kept them all.” Your voice was hardly a whisper as your body shook. Calums strong arms wrapped around you, holding you as if he was trying to put all your pieces back together. “Every year she would make sure to mail my card to our house so that I would feel special, when it came. When I moved out she refused to send me a card, told me that I could have it the next time I saw her, I always thought she just wanted to see me more. I didn’t know she was keeping them this whole time.” Your hands shook as you opened each card, almost as if you were scared that the wrong touch would cause the cards to fall apart in your hands, You carefully read and reread each message that was perfectly handwritten in cursive. Calum’s hand lightly wiped the tears from my cheeks.

“I think that was the last box love.” Calum said walking towards you, “it’s so empty, Cal.” Your legs dangle over the edge of the island, eyes scanning the bare room, that once held so much life and joy but now only held sadness of what used to be. You watched Calum as he walked around the now empty kitchen, taking everything in as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory, this might have been your childhood house but Calum spent so much time here when you both were kids, it’s almost like his second home. It can be hard to make a house feel like a home, but your mom never failed to welcome every single person into her home. You still remember when you told her about Calum and yourself dating, you had never seen her so happy, she always thought that Calum was the kindest and most respectful young man. He will always treat you right, I know he will, she told you the first time she saw Calum and yourself together she told you the way she knew he loved you, was in the way that he looked at you, even when you were  just simply talking. He never takes his eyes off of you, she told you.

Calum and you stood outside of your childhood house for the second time that day. The moving van had long left, filled with boxes of clothes, books, pictures, and other various items that you had found while cleaning out the old house. Calum's arm was lightly draped around your shoulder as him and you stood there. You smiled as a tear ran down your cheek, “I miss her,” the tears burned your tired eyes as you ran your hand through your hair, “god, I thought I was ready for this. I thought I was ready for everything to change, I’m not ready to accept that she’s actually gone.” you let out a shaky breath. “She was such an amazing person, she would have given you the shirt off of her back, she always had a way of making people listen and understand what she was saying. It’s not fair that, it’s not fair that she’s gone.” you shook my head “It should have been me.” you mumbled, Calum moved standing in front of you, lifting your chin lightly so that you looked him in the eyes. “No it shouldn’t have been, it’s hard to see that right now, I know the guilt of surviving when you think you could have done so much more is overwhelming. But you did everything you could have done, you spent more time in her hospital room and with her doctors that you did at home. You did everything you could do and more.” “It doesn’t feel like I did, I feel like I could have done something else.” You looked down at your hands, playing with the ring on your right index finger. “It’s okay to feel that way right now, but you have to understand that you did everything possible to help her.” Calum said reaching for your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. In that moment it was almost as if time had frozen, the way everything stood still,the wind stopped blowing and not a single car passed as we stood outside the house. You don’t know how you got so lucky as to have Calum in your life. He was your best friend from the first moment you met him, he had stayed with you though so much never giving up on you or us for that matter. You don’t know where or even if you would be here without him but one thing that you knew for sure was that your mom was right when she said Calum loved you.

#Calum hood #Calum hood x reader #5sos #5sos imagine #imagine #calum hood fluff #reader incert #5sos fluff #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #michael clifford #ashtonirwin #ashton imagine #ashton irwin imagine #lukehemmings #luke imagine #luke hemmings imagine #calum hood 5sos #calumhood #michael 5sos #michael clifford imagine #michael imagine #death