#if i had my way i would wear Black Tshirt to work every single day of my life but alas ... :( but i could fuck w/ the tos uniforms

[strawnarrries]

Perfume

Summary: You get a new perfume and it drives Harry insane.

Requested: Yes!

Word Count: 4.9k

Warning(s): light drinking, F/M receiving oral, unprotected sex

Never in a million years did you think such a small detail would have such a huge impact on Harry. You went shopping with a couple of your girlfriends last weekend and found a new perfume you absolutely fell in love with. You had been using the same perfume for quite a while now and figured it was time to switch it up.

After smelling multiple different scents, none of them stuck out to you until the saleswoman showed you a Tom Ford Perfume. It was perfect. It was a warm, spicy, vanilla scent with hints of sandalwood and roasted barley. It was seductive, but still managed to be sweet at the same time. It was a pretty pricey perfume but you were instantly sold after that first sniff.

You were obsessed with wearing it. You had only owned this perfume for about a week, but you had worn it every time you left the house; even if it was for something simple like making a quick grocery trip. You had not a single regret about spending so much money on perfume. Wearing the perfume made you feel confident and sexy. You got so many compliments from your peers and you could not believe how crazy it drove Harry.

It all started last week.

"Okay, baby, I'm going to meet Kate for brunch," you called to him.

You were going to meet your best friend, Kate for lunch at a cute cafe near your home. It was the first chance you had to try out your new perfume since you bought it the other day. You hadn't told Harry about it because you wanted to see if he would notice that you switched scents. You didn't get your hopes up because he is a man after all, but you were curious either way.

Harry sat on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, watching some random show you did not recognize. He wore an old tshirt and a pair of black basketball shorts. You walked over to him and pressed your right hand to the back of the couch next to his head, hovering yourself over his body. You pressed a sweet kiss to his lips before heading towards the mud room to grab your purse and your keys.

"Where are you guys gonna eat?"

"Burgh House Cafe," you replied, voice slightly raised so he could hear you from afar.

Once you stood back up from bending down to strap on your shoes, you were startled to feel him behind you, "Oh my gosh, you scared me. I thought you were still sitting down."

"Sorry," he chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around you from behind and pulling you into his chest.

"What are you doing?" you giggled, slightly confused because you only get goodbyes like this when one of you is leaving for a long time.

"Just wanted to hug you."

He nuzzled his face into the curve of your neck and you did not miss the deep inhale he took. He squeezed you tighter and hummed against the skin of your neck. He began pressing soft kisses to your neck, jaw, and cheek.

You giggled, letting him love on you for a little bit before squirming in his grip, "I'm gonna be late."

"You smell good," he mumbled.

"Do I?" you teased.

"Mhm, did you get a new perfume?"

"I did. I got it when I went shopping with my friends last weekend," you replied, turning around in his arms to face him before he immediately wrapped himself around you again, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Wanted to see if you'd notice."

"How can I not notice when you smell this fantastic."

"So you like it?" you grinned.

"Mhm," he hummed, face still pressed against your neck.

You let him sway you back and forth for a moment, him inhaling and exhaling deeply while pressing sensual but sweet kisses to your neck.

"Okay, baby, I gotta go now."

"Nooooo," he whined, "I want you to stay."

You giggled at his neediness, "I'll be back in a couple hours."

"Mmmm, fine."

The next incident happened just a few days ago.

It was around 8:15am and you stood in the bathroom, getting ready for work. You had brushed your teeth, gotten dressed, and were currently working on your makeup. You heard him wake up and soon a shirtless Harry walked into the bathroom with sleepy eyes and bedhead. He was adorable.

"Good morning," you smiled at him.

"Mm, good morning," he mumbled back, voice raspy and deep with sleep.

He walked behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his bare chest. You smiled lovingly as he pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek before snuggling his face into your neck.

You continued to coat on mascara, loving the warm feeling of him holding you until he suddenly groaned, "Ugh, you're wearing that perfume again."

"Is that bad?" you asked, slightly confused by his reaction because you thought he really liked it.

"Yes, because it's making it harder to let you leave. Want you to stay home and let me love on you all day."

You giggled, screwing your mascara closed again and putting it back in your makeup drawer, "Can't, baby. Got meetings."

"Cancel them."

"You know I can't do that," you smiled at him.

He whined, looking up at you through the mirror and pouting. You turned around in his hold and cupped his face with both of your hands. You pressed your lips to his pouting ones for a sweet kiss before saying, "Do your thing, and then meet me downstairs and we can have breakfast together."

And here we are to tonight.

You and Harry decided to have your group of friends over for dinner and games. It had been quite some time since your group got together so you were excited to see everybody. You had spent the entire afternoon cleaning around the house and preparing for your guests. You and Harry had suggested getting takeout for everyone rather than cooking and everyone agreed with that. You were relieved by that because you had not acquired good cooking skills and making a good dinner with enough food was not going to happen if you and Harry were in charge.

You all had agreed on Chinese and after getting everyone's orders, you and Harry went to pick it up. Once home, you began to set the table and make everyone's plates as they began to arrive. You all sat at the table and chatted, enjoying the company of some of your closest friends.

Once dinner was finished, Harry cracked open a couple of drinks and you all gathered around the coffee table in the family room to play a few games. Your friend group loved to play games so you had a wide selection of card and board games you shuffled through. You started off with one of your favorite games, Cards Against Humanity. It was probably the most widely known, simple game, but it never failed to make you all laugh.

In between switching games, you went to the kitchen to refill your wine glass. On your way back in, you met Harry's eyes and he urged you to sit with him. You sat angled towards him on the couch, one leg pressed up against your chest. He grabbed your other leg and hooked it across his thigh, letting it dangle in between his legs while his arm rested on the couch ledge behind your head. Harry has never been big on PDA, but as soon as he gets a few drinks in him, he is all over you. He constantly needs to be touching you, even if it's just resting a hand on your knee, or standing side to side with you, he wants you close. Physical touch is his number one love language and he never fails to show it after a couple drinks.

"Hi, baby," you grinned after taking a sip of your wine.

"Hi. Having fun?" he grinned back.

"Mhm, are you?"

"Mhm."

"What game are we playing now?" you asked him.

"Celebrity," he answered.

After a few rounds of that, your wine glass was empty again. You did not feel like having another glass so you got up and went to the kitchen to wash it out, saving yourself a little time tomorrow morning when you have to clean up the place.

Standing at the sink, you were rinsing out the glass when all of a sudden, you felt a familiar pair of warm, tattooed arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"You know, it may be the wine or your new perfume, but I'm tempted to kick everyone out and take you right here on our kitchen counter," he hummed, his voice slightly louder than you like due to the alcohol loosening him up.

"Oh my gosh, Harry don't talk so loud," you giggled at him cautiously, not wanting your friends to hear him talk so dirty to you.

He grinned, "I'm serious though. That perfume has been driving me mad all week."

"I know it has. You've been all over me," you teased.

"Can't help it when you smell so delicious," he hummed, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver up your spine.

"Don't get me riled up," you murmured.

"Maybe I want to."

His hand began to snake its way down to your inner thigh and you immediately grabbed it with your own, "Don't."

"What are the chances we successfully sneak upstairs for 5 minutes without anyone noticing?"

"Harry, no! That's not happening!"

"What are you talking about? I can easily make you cum in 5 minutes."

"No, not that," you giggled, glancing at your group of friends to make sure none of them were paying any attention to you two. Luckily, the only thing you saw was Brad and James screaming random celebrity names while Julia tried to act out who she picked out of the cards.

"I mean we're not sneaking away to have sex while your friends are all down here."

You have had a couple glasses of wine as well, but not that many.

"Why not?" he whined.

You began to reply, but then James interrupted you, teasing you both, "You two quit making out over there! Harry, it's your group's turn!"

You blushed slightly at the attention and laughed along with everyone else before joining them on the couch.

"How many did you get?" you asked Julia.

"Zero!" she replied angrily.

"Who was it?" you giggled.

"Rob Stringer! They took the entire round to miss Rob Stringer!"

For the rest of the night, you continued spending time with your friends. After a few more games, it was getting late and everyone decided it was time to go. You said your goodbyes to your guests and walked them each out the door, making sure they got into their cars safely.

As soon as the door shut, Harry locked it behind him, pulled you in by your waist, and started pressing sensual kisses to the delicate skin of your neck, breathing in your scent, "Been waiting for them to leave for hours."

"You were not," you giggled at his dramatics, wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his embrace.

He giggled back, trailing his lips up your jaw, to the corner of your mouth before molding your lips with his. You parted your lips as he licked into your mouth, tasting you. He tasted sweet, but also bitter due to the wine he drank earlier.

"Love you so much." he murmured against your lips.

You hummed happily, "I love you too. Did you have fun tonight?"

"I did. But there's still one more thing I wanna end the night with," he replied, pushing a stray strand of hair out of your face.

"What?" you asked, even though you knew exactly what he wanted.

You watched his pretty green eyes darken with lust as he spoke before his face disappeared into your neck again, lips touching every inch of your skin they can reach as he spoke in between kisses, "You. Upstairs. In our bed. Naked. Right now."

You giggled girlishly before urging him to lift his head, attaching your lips once again for a passionate kiss, "Mmm, you got it, baby."

Your lips moved in sync with his, each kiss getting deeper and more heated. You tilted your head to the side and he followed your lead, kissing you like it was the last time he ever would. Your fingers threaded through his locks, while his hands began sliding down your backside, cupping each cheek in his large hands and squeezing.

"C'mon, I can't wait any longer," he hummed against your lips, landing a playful spank against your left cheek.

You giggled and both made your way upstairs to your shared bedroom. After entering, he closed the door and immediately pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor before grabbing the hem of your sweater; it soon joined his shirt on the floor. He cupped your face with his two hands and again attached his lips to yours. His tongue slipped out, tasting you while you obliged, letting him take over the lead.

You ran your hands across his bare chest, feeling every ridge of his muscles. Your fingers slowly walked down his chest, tracing his happy trail before fumbling with the button on his jeans. He interrupted you by slipping his fingers past the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down your legs. You stepped out of them and were soon standing in front of him in only your bra and panties.

While still kissing you, he began urging you to walk backward toward the bed. The backs of your knees hit the edge and you sat down on the bed, your lips disconnecting from his. Scooting backward, you got comfortable in the middle of the bed while he slipped his jeans off, leaving both of you in your underwear. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you before continuing his assault on your lips.

He began to subtly grind his hips against yours and you could feel his hardening member against your center. Your panties dampened in return, getting more and more wound up with each second that passes by. His lips trailed down your neck until he got to the swell of your breasts. Cupping each of them over the fabric of your bra, he squeezed them, accentuating the swell before latching his lips to the soft skin. He began sucking and nipping, leaving dark purple marks that only he would see. He pulled each cup of your bra lower, exposing your nipples to him. You felt them harden at the sudden change of temperature and heard Harry groan under his breath slightly.

His lips immediately wrapped around your left nipple, sucking it while his fingers pinched your right one. Your eyes fluttered shut and your hands tangled themselves in his hair as you enjoyed the feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple. He gave your right breast the same amount of attention before coming off of it with a soft pop.

"Take this off," he hummed.

You arched your back and unclasped your bra, tossing it to the ground with your clothes. Harry cupped them in his big hands again, this time with nothing blocking his access. He leaned down and began pressing kisses against all your sweet spots, sending goosebumps to prick against your skin. He trailed the tip of his nose up and down the nape of your neck, groaning, "Jesus christ, babe. You smell so fucking good."

You giggled, very amused at how much this tiny detail has riled him up, "Should've bought this perfume a long time ago."

He grunted in response, nipping your sensitive skin. You move his head so you can move your lips in sync with his, kissing him so deeply and sensually. His lips were so warm and his tongue was sloppy as he tasted you. You reached down in between your body and cupped his member, feeling just how hard he was for you. You slipped your fingers past the waistband and wrapped your palm around his shaft the best you could with the restriction. You moved your hand up and down before he rolled over, pulling you with him so you could straddle his lap.

You continued to kiss him, tilting your head for a different angle as your kisses got needier and sloppier. You adjusted yourself so your center was directly over his and you ground your hips against his, the friction being just enough to cause him to moan softly against your lips with each swirl of your hips.

"C'mere, sit on the edge," you ordered, climbing to the edge of the bed.

Harry followed, sitting on the edge and looking down at you. You sat on your knees in between his legs, running your hands up and down his thighs, the tattoos adorning them staring up at you. You leaned down and began peppering kisses to his skin, trailing your kisses up his thighs before reaching his member straining in his boxer briefs. You pressed your lips to it, letting your teeth gently scrape across the fabric.

"You're such a tease," he spoke.

"I love teasing you," you grinned, looking up at him through your lashes while your hand took over where your mouth just was, massaging him gently in your palm.

"I know you do."

You grinned, pressing a couple more kisses to his bulge before slipping your fingertips past the waistband of his briefs. He lifted his hips and allowed you to pull his underwear down his legs, letting them pool at his ankles before he kicked them to the side. He was completely exposed to you now. His tip, peaking out from under his foreskin, was swollen and red, leaking with precum and practically screaming at you for attention.

You wrapped your palm around his member, stroking him a few times before trailing kisses up the underside of him. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before slipping it past your lips, suckling it gently. You repeated your motions until you could feel his hips buck up, signaling he was getting antsy.

"C'mon," he muttered under his breath, his head falling back against his shoulders.

You smiled at how desperate he was for you before finally lowering your head onto him, taking him into your mouth. He groaned in pleasure, his head lifting up to watch you and his fingers winding themselves in your strands of hair. You bobbed your head up and down, your palm wrapped around what you could not fit in your mouth. Your free hand reached down and cupped his balls, massaging them gently in the way you knew he loved.

"Ugh, that feels so good, babe. You look so hot right now," he grunted, tugging gently on your strands of hair.

You hummed, grinning softly at him as you licked up the underside of his shaft, erupting another deep groan from his throat. You watched as his body reacted to the feel of you. A thin layer of sweat glittered on his skin. The two fern tattoos lining his deep V-line swayed like leaves on a tree with each clench of his abdomen. The moth tattoo just below his pecs danced with every inhale and exhale he took.

Feeling slightly adventurous, you wrapped your hands around his thighs and took him in your mouth again. Relaxing your throat, you took him deeper, your eyes pricking with moisture as his tip tickled the back of your throat. Bobbing your head up and down again, you found a good pace and you could tell he was rounding the corner to an orgasm.

You came off of him and wrapped your palm around his shaft, pumping him as you spread the mix of saliva and precum against him. You wrapped your lips around his tip, suckling softly before taking him in your mouth again, loving the way his breath hitched in his throat.

"Shit, baby, I'm close," he warned.

Usually at this point, you would stop. It usually takes him a little bit of time to recharge in between orgasms (especially now that he is older) and on late nights like tonight, neither of you feels like waiting for him to get it up again so you can have sex. But you wanted to play with him a little bit and see how far you could push him. So you didn't stop. You came off of him with a soft pop and wrapped your palm around him, thrusting it up and down at the fast pace you knew was his sweet spot.

"Y/N, fuck-don't. I'm so fucking close."

"Where do you want it?" you teased.

"Inside of you - god, babe, you gotta stop," he groaned almost painfully, wrapping his hand around yours and pulling it off of his throbbing member.

You stood on your feet and towered over him. You cupped his face with your hands and kissed him. His scruff tickled your skin while you shared his taste, the sound of your lips smacking against each other filling the room. You placed your knees on the bed on either side of his hips, straddling his lap while never letting your lips depart.

"You're a menace," he hummed against your lips.

"I know," you replied cheekily and he smiled widely in response.

Wrapping his arms around you, he stood up and turned around, laying you down on the bed. The roles were switched and he was now on his knees below you. He pulled you lower so your hips were on the edge of the bed and he was face-to-face with your center. He saw the wet patch on your panties, his thumb reaching out to run up and down your clothed slit, allowing your arousal to soak through the fabric even more.

"Soaked through your underwear, babe. Am I that sexy?" he teased, lips beginning to press kisses against your inner thighs.

"Mhm," you replied, feeling antsy in excitement for what was to come.

He pulled your panties down your legs, your glistening center now fully exposed to him. Your scent was so strong; the mix of your arousal and perfume filling his nostrils and making his member twitch between his legs.

"Bloody hell," he huffed to himself, tossing your panties to the floor, "You're gonna fucking kill me one day, you know that?"

You smiled as he awed at what was in between your thighs, your stringy arousal making his mouth water in anticipation of tasting you. One of his favorite things to do. With one hand cupping your hip, his other hand reached up and began running through your folds, spreading your wetness. He placed his thumb on your throbbing clit and began to slowly move it back and forth. You hummed softly at the relief, hips bucking up as you got needier for his tongue.

He wasted no time as he leaned in and licked a strip through your folds, humming in satisfaction at the taste of you on his tongue. After spreading you open for him, he wrapped his pink lips around your clit and began suckling. You reached down and threaded your fingers through his chocolate locks, tugging gently.

He began flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth across your bundle of nerves, your hips instinctively bucking up as your orgasm began to build. Playing with the shape of his tongue, he alternated back and forth between slipping into your slick entrance and suckling on your clit.

He came off of you softly, lifting his head to look down at what his mouth was just playing with. Using his dominant hand, he ran his fingers through your wet slit, admiring how slick and swollen you were. Turning his arm palm up, he slipped his middle finger past your entrance. You let out a moan as he felt around you, finding that spongey spot that caused your toes to curl.

He added a second finger and began pumping them in and out of you. The only noise to be heard in the room was the sound of your moans of pleasure and the squelching of your arousal against his thick fingers. You felt your walls clenching around him each time he brushed against your good spot. You could feel your orgasm tightening in your stomach and you knew it would not be long until he had you trembling under him.

"Oh, Harry. Just like that, don't stop," you moaned.

And that is exactly what he did. He continued his movements on you, desperate to feel you cum against him. With his fingers moving in and out of you at the perfect pace and his lips wrapped around your clit, your body was numbed with pleasure as your orgasm washed over every inch of you. Your back arched off the bed and loud moans spilled from your pink lips, letting him know just how good he was making you feel. Coming off of you with a soft pop, he sat up slightly, angling his arm to drive his fingers deeper into you. He watched as he carried you through your orgasm, in awe at how perfectly your body reacted to him.

Your orgasm began to fizzle out and your moans were overtaken with heavy breaths as you relaxed back into the warm sheets beneath you. Removing his fingers, Harry lowered his head again and lapped at your core to taste all of you, causing you to whimper slightly.

Harry stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before hovering back over you. He pressed his lips to yours for a sweet kiss before trailing them down your neck, giving you time to catch your breath, "I fucking love watching you cum."

"Mm, c'mere," you hummed, reaching down between you to wrap your palm around his member before blindly trying to line him up with your entrance, "I want you inside of me."

He replaced your hand with his hand, lining himself up with your entrance and immediately pushing in. You both let out moans of satisfaction, finally feeling relief from connecting to each other. He began moving his hips, grinding against you as he moved in and out of your slick entrance.

"Oh Harry," you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, pulling him close to you, "I love you so much."

"I love you too, baby. You feel so good," he whined back, lips brushing against yours with each thrust.

You clenched your walls around him, feeling every inch of him inside of you. You were slightly overstimulated by your orgasm just minutes before, but it still felt so good. He was grinding against you, his tip hitting your good spot with each thrust of his hips. His lips landed on yours and he kissed you slowly and passionately before trailing to your cheek, past your jaw, into the curve of your neck. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to all your sweet spots, his breath warm against your skin. He felt good. He always made you feel good, but right now, you were desperate for another release. You needed more.

"Faster please," you moaned.

Obeying you, he stood up on his feet and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed. Wrapping his palms around the back of your knees, he pulled them up to have your calves resting against his shoulder blades. Cupping his hands around your hips to steady you, he sped up his pace, driving in and out of you quickly. The change of position caused him to go deeper into you, allowing a new angle that made your toes curl against the skin of his back.

His hips slapped against the back of your thighs, reddening them with the constant force. Your breast bounced with each thrust of his hips against yours, moans and groans spilling from both of your lips. His balls slapped against your clit with each pound, stimulating you in the perfect way. You were getting close and Harry could tell.

"C'mon, baby. I know you're close. You're clenching me so fucking tight, it feels so good. Wanna feel you cum around me. C'mon," he urged.

It did not take long until your second orgasm of the night erupted in waves throughout your entire body, pleasure overwhelming every one of your senses. Your walls clenched around him tightly, triggering an orgasm of his own. His warmth spread through you and filled you up, causing a whole new wave of pleasure throughout your body. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your grip on the sheets was so tight your knuckles turned white. Both yours and Harry's moans mixed together and echoed throughout your home, filling it with sounds of your love.

His pace began to slow down as you both came down from your highs. He collapsed onto you, head resting just above your chest bone. You held onto him, running your fingers through his sweaty locks as you both caught up with your breath.

"That was so good," he breathed out, his breath warm against your skin.

"Really good," you agreed.

"I can't remember the last time we both finished at the same time like that."

"I know," you chuckled breathlessly.

He raised his head to look at you, pushing your hair from out of your face before cupping your jaw, "I love you so much."

"I love you too. So much, baby," you replied, your heart swelling at this sweet moment.

"Don't ever get rid of that perfume."

#my writing #one direction #harry styles #one shot #writing #smut #one direction writing #one direction one shot #one direction one shots #one shots #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #one direction smut #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #husband!harry

[brittlebutch]

some of the TOS uniforms do seem like they're made out of particularly uncomfortable fabrics but they still instill in me a sense of jealousy bc they are at their core simple tshirts that count as 'work appropriate'

#N posts stuff #business casual dress code too many buttons and stiff fabrics and collars and shit get it Off #if i had my way i would wear Black Tshirt to work every single day of my life but alas ... :( but i could fuck w/ the tos uniforms #i think bones in particular has a shirt that looks like. shiny stiff and too tight - yikes #but the rest look moderately soft and all; and simple colors that aren't overly saturated #plus the simple pants; heeled boots make me uncomfortable bc they are So Noisy to walk in but they seem quiet in the show #& ultimately it's also 'wear the same thing every single day always and forever thank you' that really clicks autistically

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 131.2 Tease (Part 2)

(you can start with part 1 if you'd like.)

It's not forever. Harry reminded himself as he sat in his fourth meeting today with a board of people he barely recognized. His eyes searched for Draco who was across the room, his head bowed as he spoke in hushed tones to a witch in a hideous magenta robe.

It's not forever he repeated as he listened to the arsehole leading the presentation about all of the ways that the war had helped the economy boom.

It's not forever he thought again as the board congratulated themselves on a war well won when not a single one of them was there.

He wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to replace every person he'd lost with one of these arseholes instead.

His gaze met Draco's across the room and he wondered if the other man could see how this was killing him.

"Mr. Potter," the wanker who'd been running the meeting, Sebastian if Harry remembered correctly, said, "You've been awfully quiet," he added jovially and the room chuckled with him. Harry forced a smile. "What are your thoughts?"

"Thank you for the invitation to speak," he said courteously. "Yes, I agree," he lied, "It's really something that we've had such a boom in the economy." He paused as the people around the room congratulated each other again. "There are several things that I would personally love to see some of the excess get funneled into."

"Oh-" Sebastian started but Harry continued over him.

"The number of children orphaned during the war doubled," Harry said bluntly. "Our orphanages don't have enough room to hold them and they're being put in muggle orphanages or into muggle homes. Many muggles aren't equipped to handle a wizarding child."

"Mr. Potter-"

"Excuse me," he said. "If I could just have another moment of your time." He cleared his throat, "I would like to see better processes in place for how these children are placed. An extra set of interviews, even." There were murmurs around the room but Harry plowed on.

(Read more below the cut)

"The number of people who are now affected by lyncathropy has nearly quadrupled but our funding has remained the same for that department in St. Mungo's-"

"Yes, but-"

"And," Harry continued, "The potion typically used for treatment is really expensive. With all of the prejudices against lycanthropes, it's difficult for many of them to find gainful employment, they can't-"

"Mr. Potter," Sebastian interrupted more forcibly, "I don't really think this is the appropriate time or place."

"Then where and when is?" Harry snapped. His eyes found Draco once more and watched as the other man lifted his chin and inhaled slowly, deeply. And Harry took a deep breath and shook his head, looking down at his hands, "I apologize, I don't mean to be rude," he said even though it was a complete lie. "I must be feeling a bit peckish. Congratulations on your success," he managed.

"Yes, thank you," the other man said amidst a third round of congratulatory murmurs. "I think we're all a bit hungry," he chuckled. "Let's end early," he suggested.

Everyone was quick to pack up and leave, several people stopping to congratulate him but not a single one of them saying anything about orphans, or werewolves, or any of the other things that Harry hadn't managed to say.

Draco was talking to a wizard, patting him on the back and Harry pretended to be digging around for something important in his bag until that wizard left the room, leaving only him and Draco.

Their eyes caught and held, Draco looked at him helplessly and Harry broke. "I can't," he whispered.

"Not here," Draco said, voice soft and achingly tender.

He nodded and told himself that it didn't hurt when Draco simply walked past him and out the door. After another moment, where he let the emotions swirling inside of him rage, he took a fortifying breath and tamped everything back down.

Harry made his way out of the room, down the hall, and through the atrium; he was stopped every several feet by people wanting to talk to him, to have their minute in the limelight. When he'd started working with the ministry, he'd imagined that he'd be able to do anything he wanted because of these frequent meetings but none of them wanted to actually help. It was a game to them.

When he finally made it to the apparation point he barely had the energy to lift his wand and apparate home.

"Don't sit," Draco called when Harry's feet touched the floor.

He whined, "I'm exhausted."

"I know," Draco called back, "But we both know that rest isn't what is going to help you."

Harry wanted to argue, wanted to lash out. Godric, he was itching for a fight, desperate for an outlet. It's how he and Draco had gotten together in the first place, after the war and the trials. Fighting had turned into fucking which had turned into making love and now Harry could hardly imagine not loving Draco.

"I know," Draco repeated as he came into the living room where Harry was still standing in the middle of the floor. "Here," he said, holding out a pair of muggle jeans, a plain black tshirt, flip flops, and a pair of sunglasses. "Get changed."

Harry looked at him then, the other man was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a blue polo, blue sunglasses perched in his hair.

"What are we doing?" he asked even as he stripped out of his robes and the clothes he'd been wearing underneath.

"We're having a taste of someday," Draco said.

Harry paused buttoning his jeans and grabbed Draco's shirt, pulling him in and kissing him fiercely, pouring all of his frustration and desperation into the kiss.

"I know," Draco whispered, pressing his forehead against Harry's. "I know, love."

He swallowed and took a step back so he could finish zipping up his jeans and pull his tshirt on over his head.

"Ready?" Draco asked after he'd stuffed his feet back into his sandals.

Harry nodded eagerly and accepted Draco's arm.

When they blinked back into existence, they were on a bare, sunny stretch of beach by the ocean. "Give me your glasses," Draco said, holding out a hand.

"But I need them to see," Harry protested.

Draco rolled his eyes, but the fond curve of his mouth gave him away, "These," he said, holding out the sunglasses he'd brought down with Harry's clothes, "Are prescription sunglasses."

"You're brilliant," Harry breathed, leaning in to steal a kiss. "Sorry," he said, pulling back quickly remembering that they were still in public, even if the beach seemed deserted.

"Hey," Draco whispered, cupping Harry's cheek and drawing their lips together softly, sweetly, "This is someday, remember?" he murmured, lips brushing tantalizingly over Harry's before he leaned in and closed the distance once more.

Harry grasped his shirt in his hands and kissed him back for a long moment.

When he pulled back, Draco was smiling, warm and open and real, and a bubble of light expanded in Harry's chest. "Give me your glasses," he said again, holding out a hand.

He pulled them off his face and handed them over, accepting the sunglasses and watching as Draco carefully folded them and put them in a case. "Come on," he said as he shoved the case into a bag and held out a hand to Harry.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, reveling in the feel of Draco's hand in his, fingers entwined as they set off down the beach.

Draco smiled, "Right after the war," he said, "When I was trying to get my head on straight, I wanted to understand muggle culture."

"Oh?" Harry asked, greedily gobbling up every word out of Draco's mouth. They didn't talk much about the time just after the war.

He nodded, "You weren't there seventh year but what we were taught in Muggle Studies by the Carrows," Draco shook his head, "well, it doesn't bear repeating. And I wanted to know what they'd lied about; I wanted to see it for myself."

Harry squeezed his hand encouragingly.

"The new professor at Hogwarts who's teaching Muggle Studies now gave me port keys to different places that would let me experience muggle life."

"You did that by yourself?" Harry asked.

Draco laughed, "I know, it's outrageous to think about now, isn't it?"

"Sorry-"

He squeezed his hand and waved him off, "Don't be. It was crazy but I needed to see it, you know? The poor bloke I tried to pay the first time I had muggle food," he laughed again. "Oh Salazar, his face."

Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled this much, the muscles in his face actually hurt from disuse.

"Anyway," Draco continued, "This was one of my favorite places. I'd been taught that muggles were stupid and lazy, but this," he said as they walked around the corner and a boardwalk came into view. "It was magic," he said simply.

The scent of fried food wafted down the beach toward them and the sound of children's laughter reached his ears. "I've never been to the boardwalk," he said.

"You'll love it," Draco assured, tugging his hand.

Harry tugged back, pulling Draco around so he could kiss him. "Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome," Draco replied softly, bumping his nose against Harry's.

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

The afternoon stretched into evening, the sun burning red and gold, and setting the ocean on fire. Harry leaned against the railing and watched the sun setting as he stole bits of the funnel cake that Draco had purchased. "They're never going to listen," he said.

"Sorry?" Draco asked through a mouthful of food and Harry loved him all the more.

"I love you," he said simply, distracted.

Draco grinned at him, "I love you, too," he replied. "What did you say before that, though?"

"That they're never going to listen."

The other man frowned, "We don't have to talk about this now," he said. "We're in someday," he added.

"But I want to actually, you know," he said, gesturing vaguely, "get here someday."

"Politics take time," Draco said gently, in the way he had a thousand times.

And Harry recognized it was a product of his upbringing, that Draco had been raised from a very young age to measure every word that left his mouth, to look at a room and size up the people in it to know who was the most important, to make connections and build on them, to calculate every move he made. It's why seeing him here with powdered sugar at the corner of his mouth made Harry feel like he could fly; because Draco could be free when it was just them. And Harry knew from experience that he'd slip back into the role he played without hesitation or difficulty. He'd make a great politician.

But not Harry.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm done with that."

"Harry-"

"I'm running for Minister of Magic," he said.

Draco gaped at him and Harry stored that mental image away for a rainy day. "I'm sorry. What?" Draco asked.

"It's the only way that I'm going to be able to get anything done," he said. "I'm sick of the games."

"But the games are what you'll need to get elected," Draco said.

He laughed, "Nope. I'm pretty sure I've found what all that fame will be useful for. I don't need the support of the idiots who work for the Ministry, I just need the support of regular people. And I'm pretty sure I've earned that. Then once I'm in office I can fire all of them and put in people who actually give a shit."

Draco stared at him for another moment, "Are you sure about this?"

He shrugged and looked out over the water, "As sure as I am of anything."

"Anything?" Draco asked, bumping him with his shoulder.

The corner of his mouth curved up, "You excluded, of course."

"Of course," Draco echoed. "Fuck, Harry," he breathed, "You don't do anything by halves, do you?"

He shook his head, "I think about where Teddy could have ended up if not for Adromeda and I can't sleep," he said. "I think of the way Remus was treated. And of the way the trials went after the first war, the way yours would have gone if I hadn't shown up." He rubbed his fist against the railing, "Every day I walk into the Ministry and I see that fucking fountain where wizards are stepping on other magical creatures, and I just," he shrugged, "I can't."

Draco shifted so he was behind Harry and wrapped his arms around his waist, hooking his chin over his shoulder. "I know," he said softly.

"Will you help me?" Harry asked.

Draco started nodding before he'd even finished the question. "Always, love."

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

part 1 | part 3

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #part 2 #angst but less so than yesterday #happy ending #they're in love #a taste of someday #i don't know how this happened to this poor prompt #this is really not the direction i'd planned to head in when i started writing yesterday #oof. #drarry drabbles #drarry #drarry ficlets #drarry fics

[slytherinwh0re]

Fresh linen, daisies, and a hint of honey

Draco Malfoy x female reader AU

Warnings: SMUT (18+ minors dni), a little fluff and maybe a swear word or two?

Summary: Where Draco has a crush on a girl and becomes her partner for a potions assignment.

Masterlist

*Draco’s POV*

The things I would do to that girl if she would just give me the time of day. I’m not quite sure why it happened, one day I noticed (y/n) walking down the hall with her friends and ever since I can’t seem to shake the image of her from my head, it’s no question she’s beautiful.

I have plenty of girls throwing themselves at me but why isn’t she? I mean I am Draco Malfoy. 

The witch has never even glanced in my direction and I know she knows who I am, we’ve had many classes together over the years and well, everyone knows who I am. I would never say it out loud but it truly bothers me that (y/n) seems to be the only person in Hogwarts who doesn’t care about being in my presence. It makes it much worse that I think I may even have a tiny crush on the girl. 

***

There she is, walking into our potions class right past me like I don’t even exist. I have to stop myself from staring at her for most the class. The girl makes it so hard for me to concentrate and she doesn’t even know it, luckily I’m godlike at potions or who knows what my marks would look like.

I’m not sure what it is about her that pulls me in so much. (Y/n)’s easily the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen but I don’t think that’s the only thing keeping my eyes on her. She’s also very kind, always smiling at every twit she comes in contact with and she seems to have this air around her that just reels you in.

“(Y/l/n), since you’re struggling so much you’ll work with Malfoy.”

Did I just hear Snape correctly?

I see her pick up her belongings and make her way over to the empty seat right next to mine. As soon as she sits down all I smell is fresh linen, daises, and something sweet. She turn to look at me with a small smile on her face and stretches out her hand.

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n), we’ve never properly met.”

I look at her hand, a bit shocked at first but after a second I’m taking it into my much larger one. Her skin is soft.

“I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.” I smirk at the pretty girl in front of me.

“I know.” She smiles wider. “I’m sorry in advance for how bad I am at potions.” Her cheeks turn pink and she turns back towards the front, listening to the rest of Snape’s instructions on our assignment. We had a week to figure out how to make amortentia, a powerful love potion.

As the class was coming to an end (y/n) turns back to me “So I was thinking we could actually start the assignment tonight? I could meet you in the library once my classes are over for the day?”

“Sounds good to me (y/l/n), I’ll see you later.” I wink at her and start heading to my next class.

***

Finally classes are over, all I could think about was how tonight would go and I may be slightly excited to see (y/n) again. I walked to the library as quickly as possible and to my surprise she was already at the entrance looking slightly disappointed.

“Hey (y/l/n), what’s with the long face?”

“It seems everyone had the same idea, there isn’t a single work table open.” She has the cutest little frown on her face.

“Well if you’re okay with it, we could always go to my dorm. I have a private one, being a prefect and all.” I like the idea of having her in my room but I wouldn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. She seems to think about it for a second and then shrugs her shoulders.

“Lead the way Malfoy.”

Once we get to my dorm we start setting up all the different ingredients and materials we’ll need on my work table. I could be imagining it but I swear I catch her glancing at me every once in a while out the corner of my eye. Not that I’m any better.

After the third time the potion explodes she lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Hey it’s okay, we still have all week to figure it out.”

“I know I just wish I wasn’t so useless at potions, maybe then we would’ve made a little progress.” She’s pouting.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re a way better partner than Crabbe or Goyle.” She starts to laugh and I can’t help but smile at how beautiful she looks. Once she settles down she still has a little smile on her face and I feel good knowing I’m the one who caused it.

“I should get going, it’s past curfew.” She says starting to put away the materials but I lightly grab her hand to stop her.

“You could just leave everything and we could work here from now on.” I scratch my head, nervous to hear what she says. She smiles and nods her head in agreement, picking up her bag from my bed.

“Well I should go.”

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.” I think I see her blush but it’s too dark in the hallway to be sure. We make our way to her room in silence, the only sound is our quiet footsteps as we approach her door.

“Thank you for walking me back Draco.” My breath hitches in my throat, no one calls me Draco other than mum and father but it sounds like velvet coming from her lips. I must look as stunned as I feel because then she quickly adds, “I mean Malfoy.” (Y/n) looks so nervous thinking I’m angry but in reality I just want to hear her say it again so I just shake my head.

“It’s okay, you can call me Draco.” This time I’m positive I see a blush on her cheek.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, have a good night (y/n).” I smirk at the blushing girl.

“Goodnight Draco.” Before I even know what’s happening she stands on her tiptoes, grabs my shoulders and plants a short kiss on my cheek, with a little smirk of her own she turns and disappears behind the door.

I smile the entire walk back to my room.

***

When I walk into potions the next day (y/n)’s already sitting at the table I usually sit at. As soon as she sees me she smiles brightly making me smile back.

“Hi Draco, we still on for today?”

“Yeah of course, you can just come to my room whenever you’re ready.”

“All right, I’ll probably change into comfier clothes before heading over.” She says, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in anything other than her school uniform and robes.

***

I’m laying in my bed waiting for (y/n) and I can’t help but think about her kissing my cheek last night. What did it mean? I decided she was probably just being nice but I wouldn’t hate it if she did it again.

Finally she knocks on the door and I open it up to see her clutching her books to her chest, smiling, as per usual. Once she steps in my room I see she’s wearing jeans and a comfy looking black tshirt, even in such simple clothes the girl outshines everyone.

Once again we worked for hours on the potion and still no progress. However I really enjoyed myself, hanging out with (y/n) was more fun than I could have imagined. She’s funny and so sweet, I don’t know that I could ever grow tired of being near her.

Just like last night I walked her back to her room and to my pleasure she kissed my cheek again, this time a tad closer to the corner of my mouth.

***

The rest of the week went the same, she’d come to my room, we’d work on the assignment, I’d walk her to her room and then she’d kiss my cheek, a little closer to my lips each night. Now it’s Sunday and we have to turn the potion into Snape tomorrow.

“Draco I think we finally did it! If I put in this last ingredient and it doesn’t explode we’ve done it.”

She drops in the last ingredient and the mix starts to steam. (Y/n) squeals in delight and throws her arms around my neck but before I can even move she let go and starts doing a happy dance around my room making me laugh.

“Go smell the potion before you hurt yourself.” I tell the dancing girl. She makes her way over to the cauldron and takes a big whiff, making my heart pound against my chest.

“I smell apples, expensive cologne, and maybe mint?” I can tell she’s confused. “It smells exactly like you Draco. What does that mean?”

“Amortentia is a love potion, whatever the potion smells like to you is the smell of what, or who, you find most desirable.” I sniff the potion, looking right at (y/n) who’s bright red at this point. “For instance I smell fresh linen, daises, and a hint of honey. Sound familiar?”

The beautiful witch is lost for words as I get closer and closer. When I finally reach her I pull her small body flush against mine, putting my face in the crook of her neck and giving it a feathery light kiss.

“You’re an exact match.” I whisper in her ear making her shudder. I start to pepper light kisses on her neck making her moan softly.

“Let me show you just how much I desire you (y/n).” I pull back to see her reaction. She puts her arms around my neck and pulls me down until her lips are an inch away from my ear.

“Kiss me already Draco.”

It takes exactly one second for me to have her pressed against me again, this time with my lips on hers. I start walking us forward until the back of her legs hit my bed and she falls back, the sight of her laying on my emerald sheets has my pants tightening by the second.

She moves so she’s kneeling on the bed, eyes level with mine. She starts unbuttoning my uniform shirt, her (y/e/c) eyes never looking away from mine. Once she has my shirt all the way off she puts her small hands on my shoulders slowly moving them down my chest until they reach my abs making me groan, her hands are so soft.

I reach for the hem of her shirt, pausing to look at her for permission. She nods so I push the shirt over her head, revealing a black lace bra.

She moves one of her hands behind her back and unclasps the material around her chest, removing a strap from each arm and finally letting it fall to the floor by my feet. I take her in for a while, not quite believing that the girl of my dreams is allowing me to be with her this way.

“You’re beautiful (y/n).” With that my mouth is back on hers, our bare chests pressed together. I skim my tongue on her bottom lip asking for permission when I feel the little minx smirking into the kiss, keeping her lips sealed. Two can play that game, I bring my hand down on her ass causing her to gasp, allowing enough room for my tongue to tangle with hers.

I lightly push her back onto the bed, immediately climbing over her. I start laying kisses down her neck, sucking on the skin, wanting her to remember who made her feel this good. I go lower until I reach her jeans, once I unbutton them I tap her hip so I can slide them off her long legs.

“Are you sure about this love?”

“Hurry up Malfoy.” She demands.

“Yes ma’am.” I hook my finger in her underwear pulling them down as slow as possible just so I could watch her squirm. I haven’t even touched her and she’s already soaked, the thought makes me smirk as I settle in between her legs.

I start kissing the inside of her thighs, placing them behind my shoulders. I leave small marks as I get closer to her core.

“Draco, please. I need you to touch me.” Fuck, that was hot.

“I want you to watch (y/n), if you look away I won’t let you finish, understood?” She nods her head vigorously, eyes locked on mine.

I lick a bold stripe up her slick folds making her grab my hair and let out the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard. This girl is driving me mad and she barely even touched me.

I slowly start tracing figure eights on her clit making her squirm, I put one of my hands flat on her stomach to hold her down, with the other I circle a finger at her entrance before sinking it into her. Her eyes never leaving mine.

She moans my name and I’ve decided I would do this everyday if she allowed me, just so I could hear my name come out her mouth like that.

I sink another finger into her, thrusting them faster as her legs begin to shake. I can tell she’s close, she’s having a hard time keeping her eyes open.

“I’m gonna c-” she let’s go before she can even finish her sentence. She throws her head back screaming my name as I flick my tongue over her. When she comes down from her high I pull my fingers out and she watches as I lick them clean, a small smile on her lips.

I get off the bed taking my pants and boxers off, my dick hitting my stomach. I grab a condom from my drawer but her hand stops me before I rip it open.

“Let me do it.” (Y/n) grabs the condom from my hand and rips the foil open with her teeth, slowly rolling it onto me. Feeling her soft hands on me makes me hiss.

“Are you ready?” I line myself up at her entrance, when she nods her head I push myself in. She’s absolutely soaked. Her legs wrap around my waist as I hold her body as close to mine as possible.

“You feel so bloody good.” I moan into her neck as her nails dig into my back. Her little whimpers encouraging me to go faster.

I grab one of her legs and pull it over my shoulder, the new angle making her scream. I smirk at how thoroughly fucked the sweet girl below me looks as I wrap my hand around her delicate throat, her tits bouncing up and down with the force of my thrusts.

I push her leg down and flip her body so she’s laying on her stomach. I don’t even have to say anything, she’s already lifting her hips off the bed and parting her legs so I could fit inbetween them. I’m going to marry this girl one day.

With her ass in the air like that I can’t help but smack it before slamming back into her. (Y/n) buries her face in my sheets as I reach around to rub her clit.

“I’m close Draco.”

“Cum for me love. Let go, I’ve got you.” And that’s all it take for her to be pushed over the edge. Her walls tighten around me as she moans my name, my thrusts become sloppy and I’m seeing stars as I cum into the condom.

Once I get myself cleaned up I go back to the bed and pull the tired girl close to my chest, kissing the top of her head.

“Let me take you on a date tomorrow.” I break the silence.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #slytherin #request something #harry potter #Dracos POV #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #draco #malfoy #harry potter smut #hp smut

[wrathandgreed]

A crafty MC making goodbye gifts for the demon bros (unromanced and romanced).

Word count: 3.5k

Notes: I’m a huge crafter (knitter, crocheter, spinner, weaver, cross stitcher, etc)  and I’m currently knitting my husband a winter hat, so I started trying to figure out what a crafty MC would make the brothers as goodbye gifts when they go back to the human world.

Also, this got REALLY REALLY long.

Lucifer

(Unromanced)

This guy is hard to make stuff for. 

His aesthetic is VERY tight and leaves no room for mistakes

So a simple winter scarf, in business-black, is probably the way to go. 

Somewhat lux yarn, cashmere/silk or alpaca/silk, so it has a sheen

He travels to the human world sometimes, and Diavolo has winter themed events in Devildom sometimes, so a scarf isn’t totally impractical.

He would appreciate the amount of time you spent making it, even if he didn’t get a chance to wear it that often.

(Romanced)

Let’s get more personal, now. You still have the same problem with his aesthetic, and the fact that if you want to give him something ~~personal~~ he won’t be able to wear it openly. His pride says no.

He’s stern in public, but affectionate in private.

You knit a medium-sized decorative pillow cover for his bed, in his signature wine-red.

It’s simple and elegant and can sit on his bed like it’s something he picked up in a Hellhome Goods store, and only *he* knows it’s a private gift.

After swearing him to secrecy, you get Solomon to help you charm the pillow, so it never pills up or wears out, and it maintains your scent forever. (Actually, it’s fair to say you do this for all of the romanced gifts).

“I thought, you know, if I can’t be there with you every night, something of me can?”

Awkward MC is awkward.

He not only appreciates how much time went into the gift (who knows how busy you are better than Lucifer?) but that you spent that much time thinking about him.

Mr. Acts of Service over here. Every stitch is something you did *for him*

You assume he’ll just leave it on the bed, and maybe, if you’re lucky, it’ll help you be the last thing he thinks of at night and the first thing he thinks of in the morning. 

Maybe he’ll smile when he sees it, and some of his weariness will lift.

Oh, if only you knew.

Mr. “Stern In Public” wraps himself around the pillow every night. Well. Every time he manages to sleep. Which, let’s face it, isn’t every night. 

But when he DOES sleep, it’s with that pillow. If he can’t sleep wrapped around you, this will have to suffice.

Finds he doesn’t sleep well when he travels, because he refuses to bring the pillow with him.

If asked, he says it’s because it’s not important.

But he just doesn’t want to lose it.

It’s too important to him.

Mammon

(Unromanced)

You’ve seen this boy’s room.

You’re not spending hours and hours and tons of money making him something.

You love the guy, but you’ve seen how he takes care of his possessions.

Most of what he owns is chucked aside when the next new-shiny comes along.

You know he loves you to bits and he’ll be careful with whatever you give him.

But “careful” has a different definition for Mammon than for some of the others.

So you knit him a hat. A trendy, slightly-too-small hat in black with a small yellow stripe on the brim.

You can use some lux yarn because, for a single-skein project, investing in cashmere or mohair or something isn’t too awful.

It looks really great on him - the fluff of his white hair, the small yellow stripe, then the wash of black as contrast. It makes his eyes pop and his skin look even warmer.

He wears it to a shoot one day and the photographer loves it

Now everyone wants one

But he has the only one because it’s handmade

Suck it, losers!

The Avatar of Greed finally has something everyone else wants that no one else can get!

(Romanced)

Yeah, you’ve seen his room. You’ve practically lived in his room. But you know he’ll be careful with anything you give him because he loves you. 

It would break his heart to have to ask you to fix something you made for him.

You know he’s going to suffer when you leave

You want him to know that you’re always there, even if you’re not *there*

So you knit him a sweater

A big, oversized sweater out of super soft chunky wool with tons of texture.

You finish it early so you can wear it around your room for a few weeks. On the rare nights you sleep alone, you sleep in it.

Again, get Solomon to enchant it.

Now it smells like you.

You wouldn’t notice, but a demon’s sense of smell is far stronger.

“I know it’s not, like, fashionable or anything. But it’s comfy and it can be…..a portable hug?”

His face turns red and he winds up stammering. Obviously. So he puts it on to avoid having to look at you.

Chucks it on over his tshirt. He immediately pulls the neckband back up over his face to take a deep inhale from the fabric.

He looks really cute in it

(He looks really cute in anything, let’s face it)

Might start crying.

Hug him pls.

Any night he feels lonely (which is most nights) he wears this sweater. Falls asleep in it half the time.

It really is like a hug, and the boy needs all the hugs he can get.

Leviathan

(Unromanced)

Out of all the brothers, Levi is the one who will appreciate STUFF. No matter what you make for him, he’ll love it. 

It’s limited edition! No one else has anything like this!

So this boy is getting crocheted plushies.

(They’re called amigurumi, and he’ll appreciate knowing that)

You make a mobile for his room

Hanging from it are little plushies of all his favorite sea creatures

Henry 2.0 is the biggest

But there’s a few jellyfish

A whale

You had to completely invent a pattern for a kraken, and it came out okay!

You had some extra yarn, so you made a few extra jellyfish

They get suction cups. 

Now he has jellyfish in his tanks and outside his tanks

Spends the next hour rigging up the mobile over his tub so he can see them before he goes to sleep and remember how much his true friend cares about him.

(Romanced)

This took….time to make.

You had to basically invent two patterns from scratch

There was a LOT of frogging.

And swearing.

When Levi opens the box and pulls aside the tissue paper, there’s two crocheted figures

One of each of you

(The one of you may or may not be dressed as Ruri-Chan)

“You made these…..for me?”

Tell him you made ONE of them for him. You take the one of him and hug it, “This one comes with me. So I’ve still got you.”

(Don’t let him cry!)

(Too late)

Then you show him the best part - each figure has a magnet in one hand.

When they get close to each other, the magnets snap together and the figures hold hands :)

Even though the two amigurumi will be in two separate realms, those magnets will want to find their partner.

Levi is floored - this is just like something out of an anime! Like two halves of a locket or something!

He can’t even find words. Possibly not for the next hour or two.

But he makes the cutest little squeaks and the verbal equivalent of keysmashes.

Like Lucifer, he sleeps with your gift. But he also carries it around his room. It has pride of place on his desk, and he purchases a stand so you can sit with him while he games or does his online schooling.

He talks to it like he would talk to you, especially on busy days when you can’t actually talk to him on the D.D.D.

It eases the feeling that you left Devildom and forgot about him. Eases - just a little - the jealousy of every human in your world who gets to talk to you. Because none of THEM have a handmade you. Just him.

Satan

(Unromanced)

This guy is either the easiest one to make for, or the hardest.

Like, you could make him a stuffed kitty. Or knit him a tie. But he’s not a super sentimental guy (unless romanced) and, in the end, that’s just stuff. His room is FULL of stuff.

Soooooo, you take out your sewing skills and sew him a traditional Sherlock hat - the deerstalker one, the one that never was actually in the books, but is still associated with the character.

The most straightforward of the brothers, Satan is indeed touched that you spent so long making something for him and he tells you so.

Insists he’ll wear it when solving mysteries.

You laugh, but he actually does wear the hat when reading mysteries now. 

It reminds him of the trip to London - how he got to solve an actual mystery, save his brother, and see the sites with his friend.

(Romanced)

YouTube made it look so easy.

It’s just paper, right? Paper and thread and a needle. You can sew clothes and stuffed animals. How hard can it be to sew together pages to make a book?

Oh, my sweet summer child.

You considered actually pulping and making your own paper, but after the seventh ruined batch of signatures you’re grateful you talked yourself out of that one.

You also considered an actual leather binding, but go for boards and a more simple Japanese sewing technique. 

This project is the perfect thing to give to Satan - not just because it’s a book, but because making it is causing you SO MUCH RAGE.

Who needs firewood when you have the ruined attempts of your gift?

You may have thrown various attempts on the floor and stomped on them before chucking them in the fire.

It takes weeks but you finally get the book together. Now the REAL work can begin.

Every book the two of you read together. Every book you discussed. Every book you recommended to him. Every single one gets a page - a title, a date, and a discussion of your discussion of the book.

The book itself becomes a tour through your growing relationship.

While not as stern as Lucifer in public, Satan is also definitely fond in private - he’s completely unsurprised to receive a book as a present, but once he begins leafing through it, the semi-smug smile vanishes.

He looks shocked, and his hold on the book gentles.

His fingers run down the page, tracing your handwriting on a page particularly precious to him.

Speechless for a few minutes, he finally returns with only “I love it.”

Said so softly and sincerely that you can’t doubt his sincerity.

There are blank pages at the end and he begins to use them to document newer books he’s reading - ones he wants to discuss with you later.

Asmodeus

(Unromanced)

Good luck keeping your gift a secret!

Asmo loves craft and crafty things, so he’s always curious about what you’re making and fascinated with the process.

Probably helps with suggestions for the others, especially for a romanced brother (although WHAT you see in them is beyond him, after all, what can THEY have that Asmo doesn’t?)

Because he seems to pop up out of nowhere, he’s already seen his gift a few times. Thankfully, he thinks you’re making it for yourself.

Bonus, he’s whiny and jealous about it, and obviously wants it for himself. So, score. You know he’ll like it.

It seems simple; a pair of fingerless gloves in his signature hot pink. But the yarn is mohair lace (you’ve cursed at it many, many times for tangling on you) held double with merino/silk black yarn.

The gloves are lacy and airy, sensual and soft. They feel wonderful to wear, and look great with a majority of his outfits. 

He absolutely squeals and hugs you when he opens up the gift - the gift he was so jealous of! Of COURSE you were making it for him this whole time!

Wears them constantly. His Devilgram pics start having a lot of “what am I holding?” themes. Cups of coffee or hot chocolate. Someone else’s hand. A ticket for an absolutely fabulous play. And a LOT of peace signs and finger-hearts  :)

(Romanced) 

This one requires the cooperation - willing or not - of everyone in the house.

You start with your DDD. That’s easy enough.

Since you’ll need Sol’s help anyway, it’s easy enough to plunder the pictures on his phone, too.

The rest of the brothers you get, one by one. Belphie’s you steal while he’s sleeping, although you found nothing useful on it. Beel just lets you borrow his phone. You ask to borrow Mammon’s while he’s gambling and he doesn’t notice that it takes you an hour to give it back. Satan - the real photographer - must be taken into your confidence - you might need his help later anyway. But he’s particularly close to Asmo, and knows how to keep his mouth shut.

You stalk Lucifer for a few weeks. You ask Satan for advice. You consider asking Diavolo to just order Lucifer to hand over his phone.

Finally you just ask him for it.

Getting a hold of Asmo’s phone is the hardest bit. You have to wait until he’s deep in a spa day, hanging around in his tub with both a sheet mask AND cucumber slices.

Then you make off with his phone. And go through the photos.

His wonderful Devilgram-worthy pictures you ignore. You start looking for the ones that he rejected, but kept. The one where both of you cracked up laughing right before the photo snapped. The one where he dropped his hot chocolate and then stole yours.

The two of you in clay face masks and toe spacers? Yep. The one you took of him with super-wide eyes as he put on mascara? Definitely. Selfies of you two surrounded by his brothers, by Sol, by Simeon, even a few with Luke.

The one Satan took of the two of you dancing at one of Diavolo’s balls, so lost in each other that the rest of the ball might as well not exist? Of course.

You combine them with the ones taken by everyone else in the house.

Culling them for the best takes weeks. Because you don’t just want the ~~prettiest~~ pictures or the ones designed for social media.

You pick the ones with emotional meaning, ones of important events, but mostly you choose pictures of genuine laughter and affection. Ones that show how much the two of you love each other, and how much true friendship exists in the house. 

How much he’s not alone, and how much he is loved. How much the people around him appreciate him.

With Satan and Solomon, you gather and enchant a simple glass cube.

It displays these photos, gently lit up, like the digital picture frames in the human world.

“I want you to remember me,” you say quietly. “I want you to remember how much fun we’ve had, and how much I love you for you.”

Not gonna lie, Asmo cries.

The cube moves around his rooms depending on where he is - it’s by his tub if he’s taking a bath. It’s on his vanity when he’s putting on  his makeup. He credits it with helping his relaxation and makeup game.

It’s always on a nightstand by his bed before he goes to sleep. Sometimes he just lays on his back, puts the cube on his stomach, and watches memories float through it.

What you wanted - for him to remember that he’s loved for more than his sexual prowess - comes true. The pictures remind him of the life he has outside of a bedroom.

He starts spending more time with his brothers. He starts taking more pictures.

His followers appreciate the diversification in his content :)

He appreciates how much you love getting texts of those photos - the not-social-media-ready ones, but the REAL ones.

Beelzebub

(Unromanced)

I mean, you could just bake the guy a dozen cakes.

But then he’d eat them and they’d be gone.

And you can’t make him anything that looks like food, because he’d eat it.

You’ve finished your gifts for half of the brothers before you even figure out what to make for him.

And then it comes to you…..socks.

He’ll use them.

He won’t eat them.

They’re not the most interesting gift, but you’re running out of time.

You actually manage to find a pattern covered with colorwork triangles that mimic his usual shirt.

You get Satan to charm them for you - the problem with handmade socks is that they wear out FAST. Not anymore!

Beel LOVES them.

(To be fair, he’d probably love anything you gave him)

Once he knows they won’t wear out, they become his Game Socks.

Like most athletes, he becomes superstitiously obsessed with the socks, wearing them for absolutely every game he plays.

Is convinced they help him win.

(Romanced)

You encounter basically the same problem as above - what on earth to make him?

You want something that reminds him how much you love him, and it absolutely can’t be anything he could even be tempted to eat, because he’d never forgive himself.

You try a number of times to build a small tapestry loom, but that skill seems to be beyond you.

Finally you have to beg Lucifer to pick one up for you in the human world.

Once you get it, you’re off and running.

Now, just because things can’t look like food doesn’t mean it can’t be inspired by it.

Red yarn, the exact juicy red of an apple - but here, just an abstract circle. Mixes of pale cream, yellow, and red in a triangle - an abstract pizza slice. 

Those cookies Barbatos makes? There. The broccoli-cheddar soup you learned to make for her? Now just an orange blob with tiny green squiggles. And on, and on. 

And buried, scattered throughout, little woven hearts.

The hearts are made of slightly different yarn, puffier and thicker, so they stand out just a little bit.

In the end, you have a decent-sized wall hanging, full of texture and shapes that are just reminiscent enough of food to bring a smile to Beel’s face, but not enough to actually be worth eating.

He passes the hanging every day, and every day he brushes his fingers over the yarn or through the fringe; a physical reminder of you.

Belphegor

(Unromanced)

This guy is probably the easiest one to make things for.

Is it soft? Is it cuddly? Can he use it as a pillow? Can he snuggle it like a stuffed animal? 

Click “yes” on any of those questions, and you have a happy - well, a slightly less annoyed - Belphie.

Which is why you take this as a challenge. The easy answer - a pillow - is BORING. And the other easy answer - a blanket - would take WAY too much time.

So, like Levi, he gets a plushie.

But not just any plushie.

He gets a plushie of Lucifer.

Lucifer…..on a pastel unicorn.

Belphie starts cackling the moment he opens it, which is fair, because you laughed a fair bit designing and making it.

He starts leaving it where Lucifer can find it, then saying that the elder can’t do anything about it, because MC made it and there’s no way he’d want to harm anything made by MC.

Satan tries to steal it.

In the end, an “anonymous” Devilgram is created, dedicated to the “adventures” of this particular plushie.

It’s all fun and games until Diavolo wants one.

(Romanced)

Well, for your boyfriend, the time and effort involved in making a blanket is just fine.

You debate endlessly - comprehensive color scheme? Granny squares or stripes? How heavy?

You go with your gut instinct - this isn’t a boy who cares about color schemes or blanket styles.

(Just look at his clothes, seriously.)

He cares about one thing - comfort.

You find the softest, smushiest yarn you can, and a pattern you can tolerate working on for like 100 hours.

You go old-school; a granny square blanket like the ones that pretty much every person had thrown over the couch in the 70s and 80s. The perfect nap blanket.

Black… mostly black, with some bright accent colors. Kind of obnoxious accent colors, actually. You figure it’ll appeal to his (dubious) sense of humor. Also it’ll piss Lucifer off seeing it around the house, clashing with literally everything in the oh-so-perfectly-decorated Gothic interior.

This one requires….special enchantment.

A little bit of ritual, and that blanket will fold up into a tiny square; easy to carry from place to place.

Belphie is torn between wanting to carry it around everywhere, like his pillow, and to leave it in the attic room, always waiting for him.

Depending on his mood, he’ll do one or the other.

But no matter what, he also sleeps juuuust a little bit better under it, snuggled up under your love.

You make him the Lucifer plushie, too. It’s too funny not to :)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me headcanons #obey me headcanon #obey me hc #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 belphegor #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #obey me fic #my fic #my writing

[runwithwolvcs]

You Know I'm No Good - e i g h t e e n

seal it with a kiss

Waking up to sunlight in her eyes and cool, emptiness beside her was not what Tallulah had expected. Normally she was the one sneaking off in the morning before her lovers woke. The aches in her limbs as she stretched and the memories of the deep conversations in between exploring each others bodies before succumbing to exhaustion kept her from second guessing Paul's intentions.

Rising out of bed slowly, Tallulah grimaced at the tautness in her thighs. She was pleasantly surprised at Paul's ability to unravel her quickly and efficiently. The memories rerunning in her head caused her to press her thighs together, his voice ringing out in her head, “You’re insatiable, huh?”, it was enough to let out a small giggle. She just couldn’t get enough of him, it was weird and wonderful all at the same time.

Standing up, Tallulah walked towards a set of drawers she knew to be filled with his clothes. Rummaging through the drawers quietly, she picks out a clean, black t-shirt. It looked like it was the same one he was wearing when she first saw him. Throwing it on quickly, she combed her fingers through her long dark hair, before exiting his bedroom.

Tallulah padded her way down the long hallway that she was too preoccupied to take in last night. She stopped and peaked her head into a foreign room to her, the kitchen, and frowned when she didn’t see Paul.

She continued on to the living room, stopping in the entryway. There he stood with his phone pressed to his ear, talking quietly to the person on the other end. Not wanting to disrupt his conversation, she beelined for the now folded pile of clothes she had discarded the night prior. Her panties sitting on top of everything. She slid them on, and smoothed out his large tshirt, making sure it covered everything that she didn’t want to risk anyone else besides Paul seeing.

An arm snaked around her waist, the now familiar body pressed against her back as he pressed a lone kiss to the crook of her neck. “Morning, Lu. Hungry?” Paul asked, turning her around to face him, a gentle smile on his face.

Lu. The nickname she associated with him. No one had ever called her that before, but it was so endearing coming from him. Tal and Tally were so overused, and Luie, well that one was reserved for the boy who caused her nothing but pain.

Tallulah nodded her head, placing her hands on his forearms as he held her by her waist, “Did you know that I have mastered the perfect pancake recipe?” she said playfully.

“Oh yeah? I don’t believe you.” Paul teased, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Well I guess I’ll just have to make them for you.”

“I guess so.” he said, leaning down and pressing a quick peck to her lips.

Tallulah felt as though she was in a dream. This wasn’t real. She was going to wake up any moment, and she’d be sent back straight to reality. A reality where everything was bleak, the days were long and suffocating. A reality without Paul.

--

The two of them gathered the ingredients, Paul subsequently showing Tallulah where everything is in the kitchen. From cutlery to dishes. Even when he kept a little first aid kit hidden in the back of a cupboard, saying, “Accidents happen.”

Tallulah rattled off the measurements needed for each ingredient having memorized the recipe after years of using it and while Paul measured she began pouring the ingredients in the ceramic mixing bowl.

Adding the dry ingredients into the mixing bowl first, before carefully cracking the eggs, making sure there were no shells at all. Tallulah grabbed the measuring cup of milk and poured it into the bowl before grabbing the wooden spoon Paul had brought out for her.

“Where’d you learn this recipe,” he asked, leaning on the counter as he watched her work.

“When I was twelve, my favourite diner went out of business. It was owned by an old couple who lived in our apartment complex, and they had the best pancakes ever. My mom and I would go there every Friday for dinner and I’d order them every single time.” she explained, mixing the batter with the wooden spoon. “So when they closed, I panicked at the idea of never having such amazing pancakes again. My mom and I spent weeks trying to figure out their recipe, eating pancakes for dinner every single night. Some were good and some were..not even close to be considered even edible.” she grimaced at the memory of those pancakes. “But, my mom ran into one of the owners of the diner one day in the elevator, and practically begged her for the recipe. Telling her I was so strung up on pancakes and refused to eat anything else until I replicated the recipe.” she looked up at Paul, who was leaning on the counter next to her, the batter completely mixed. “So, this little old lady, Margie, came to our apartment and taught me how to make them, she said it was a family recipe that had been passed down for years and that I was the only outsider who would ever know it. I always thought owning a diner would be so cool because of her.” she grinned at him, “But, I told her I would take this recipe to the grave with me, except well, you know now. So you have to promise me not to share the secret ingredient with anyone.” she said light heartedly, putting her hands on her hips.

“I promise, Lu. No one will ever know the secret ingredient.” Paul was staring at her with such admiration. The idea of Tallulah sharing little moments of her life so easily with him made his heart race. He knew he had the rest of his life to get to know her, if she’d let him, but even a week ago she was so skeptical. And now she was standing in his kitchen, wearing his shirt, it was a moment that felt out of reach the night he locked eyes with her.

“Seal it with a kiss,” she said, tapping her puckered lips.

Paul closed in on her, leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers gently. Tallulah grinned against his lips before pulling back, “Vanilla, please.”

She felt Paul slide behind her after handing her the vanilla, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder as she measured the vanilla extract with a measuring spoon before adding it to the batter, picking up the wooden spoon and mixing it in.

“Do your parents still live on the reservation?” she asked gently. He knew so much about her family drama but she had never thought to ask him about his own.

Paul shook his head slightly as it rested on her shoulder, “No, moms in Tacoma and my dad moved off rez to Forks just after I turned eighteen.”

She frowned, “He just left you?”

“Well I mean, it was inevitable. My parents got divorced when I was 8 so my dad brought me here, he’s Quileute, my moms not. I phased when I was 16 so he knew I was stuck so he bought a house out in Forks and left me with this one. I still see him from time to time.” Paul explained, his hands massaging her hip bones. She wasn’t sure if he was doing it for her own comfort or his.

“He knows then. That you’re a wolf.”

“Yeah. His grandfather was too. It's a bloodline thing. When a new vampire shows up, someone with the gene phases.” she nodded at the simple explanation.

“Are there a lot?” she asked, the idea of vampires roaming around frightened her less than it should have at the knowledge.

“Not so much anymore. Just passerby's really, but I promise you, Lu, you’re the safest on the rez. They won’t get by us.”

“I believe you.” she said putting her hand on one of his that rested on her hip before pulling away from him completely and taking the bowl of batter to the stove where a pan had been left to warm up.

She put butter in the pan, the comforting sound of the sizzle causing her to smile as she spread it evenly to grease the pan.

“Are you ready for this awesomeness?” she asked, looking back at where she left him standing, before turning her focus back to the stove and pouring a measuring scoop full of batter on the pan, the circle of batter as large as her hand.

“You know, I’m still not convinced you know what you’re doing,” he teased, bringing over a plate for her to use for the finished pancakes and placing it on the counter next to the stove.

Tallulah placed her hand on her chest, feigning hurt, “Are you doubting my chef skills?”

She flipped the pancake with ease, the top now a golden brown.

Paul moved back to his spot behind her laughing at her question while securing her in his arms. It was like he had a constant need to be touching her, keeping her in his arms so she wouldn’t disappear. Tallulah couldn’t complain, the feeling of even just the brush of their hands made her feel grounded, like nothing bad would ever happen as long as he was in arms reach to her.

Checking the underside of the pancake to make sure it was fully cooked, she used the spatula to place it onto the plate on the counter, “Okay, you need to try this.”

Tallulah used her fingers to gently tear a piece of the pancake off, holding it up to Pauls mouth.

He took it into his mouth and she watched as he chewed, a small smile growing on his face after he swallowed.

Tallulah looked up at him with hopeful eyes at the tiny reaction he gave her, “So?”

“You were right. That is fucking good.” Paul said, grinning down at the younger girl before pressing his lips to her forehead, “My girl has mastered the best pancake recipe I have ever tasted, thats something to brag about.”

My girl.

Tallulahs heart nearly stopped. Not because she didn’t like the idea of being his girl, but because she did.

She laughed off his statement before turning to pour more batter onto the pan, this time making three smaller pancakes, “I told you so.”

“I told you so, “ he mimicked before dipping his fingers below the waist band of her panties as he placed small, light kisses along her exposed neck, making it really hard for Tallulah to focus on the task at hand.

“If you don’t stop I’m going to burn the pancakes.” she told him, biting her lip to keep herself from letting out a breathy moan as she felt his fingers find her bundle of nerves rubbing her slowly. She used all her focus to flip the pancakes one by one, squeezing her thighs together, trapping his hand as he continued to pleasure her.

Paul chuckled against her skin, retracting his fingers, “Please don’t do that, I’m starving.”

Tallulah took a deep breath and flipped the finished pancakes onto the plate, using the rest of the batter to make three more pancakes, “You’re such a tease.”

Taglist: @cperry0516 , @bhasbhabiessss, @fuzzyfingersandcavier @haventdecidedyet @alwayshave-faith

#you know im no good #paul lahote #paul lahote x oc #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote imagine #twilight wolves #twilight wolf pack

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Unraveling in the Sheets

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content, NSFW

Rating: M

Length: Short Story

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Spoiler Alert, there is smut. Be warned. It's there.

Also, I am no longer doing tags on posts. Since my list exceeds the tag limit. Please feel free to join the chat in place of the tag list.

Henry Cavill Master List

“How did you do it though?” Gliding the car into a free parking space, Henry glanced at Nell in the passenger's seat.

“How did I do what?” Eyeing him curiously, she tried to hide her gloating smile. She could be a terrible winner, even if she wasn't the winner, she had came ahead of Henry.

“You know what I mean, Nelly.”

He looked so silly, his new mustache curling when he laughed or smiled. Nell had to admit, if any man could wear the 'stache Henry did it well.

“Oh, you mean how did I suddenly leave your ass behind and finish nearly 50 positions ahead?” She laughed, crinkling her nose. “I told you, I've been working hard for this. Besides, you're too big. You move slower than I do. It's that simple. Maybe next year, you will finish ahead of me.”

“You're impossible.” Unbuckling his seat belt, Henry hurried to get out of the car and around to the other side, before Nell could open her own door. Nearly there, he frowned when she opened the door, stepping out of the Aston Martin. “You were supposed to let me open that.”

“I am supposed to do a lot of things that I do not.��� Nell grabbed her hand bag. “I'll let you open the door, next time. You big dork.”

Henry was always the gentleman, even when Nell would rather rip his eyes out than speak to him in a civil manner. Not that she ever felt the former much, but on the rare occasion. Sometimes that's how things went for ex-lovers. The mid May air was growing cool, leaving a few goosebumps on Nell's exposed arms. She had expected to be back before now, which is why she'd left her sweater in the hotel.

“Well, happy late birthday. It was nice having dinner with your family. I've missed them.”

“They've missed you, too. I could tell that dad was happy you came along. He hasn't talked that much during a dinner since the last time you came over.” Henry smiled fondly. "I'm glad that you came, Nelly." Hands in his pockets, Henry sauntered along beside Nell. Approaching the main entrance, he held the door allowing her to enter. 

When he'd invited her for the weekend, he wasn't confident that she would come. Wrapped up in work, Nell didn't take too much time away from Dublin these days.

"It was a nice break from work." Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Nell bit her bottom lip. "I know that you are busy, but do you have a few minutes to talk?"

"I always have time to talk with you." Scanning the hotel lobby, Henry tried to find a spot for them to sit and chat privately. "Should we have a seat at the bar?"

"We could, but I would really like to change. Do you mind coming up with me? We can just talk in the room. It's probably more comfortable anyway."

"Is this about the wild boy?"

"Isn't it always?" 

Laughing, Henry pushed the call button for the elevator. Their son was truly something else. One day he would surely take over the world; Henry could see that coming from the day he was born.  To say Ivan was Henry's pride and joy would be a massive understatement. He lived for their son. This weekend having Ivan, and Nell, in Jersey had been fantastic. A short glimpse of what life could have been. The ding of the elevator brought Henry back from his brief fantasy.

He and Nell had split up several years ago, there wasn't much chance she would feel the same as he did. Lost in the thoughts of happy little family. Allowing Nell to step onto the elevator first, Henry stood silently with his hands clasped in front of him.

“So, Ivan has been doing well in school?” He may as well get this under way.

“Define doing well,” Nell snickered. “I get a call nearly every day from his teacher. The woman is impossible, but knowing our son, he isn't making it easy for her.”

“I was like that in school. Right up until the day I left.” Henry shrugged. The elevator gently bumping to a stop, he stepped forward to hold the door for Nell.

Muttering a thank you, Nell dug for her key card, leading the way down the hall. She loved this hotel, it was the only one she stayed in, if she could help it, while visiting the Island. A great view of the water on one side, the other dazzling with a fantastic look out into the city. The first time she'd ever been to Jersey, she had stayed in the hotel and fell in love with the charm. There were days when that felt like a life time ago.

Opening the door, Nell paused to allow Henry in. “Have a seat. Anywhere you'd like. Sorry it's kind of a mess. I'm going to change.”

The hotel room was anything but a mess, minus the few sketch books that Nell had dropped on the bed. Always working. Henry took a seat on the edge of the king sized bed, casually glancing at the colour coded notes and designs that Nell had in one of the open sketch books. Costumes. A few notes detailed leather armor and Viking era clothing. She'd done well for herself, since he'd met her. The same shy costume apprentice hiding out on set of The Tudors, was now helping drive forward the details of Vikings.

In the bathroom, Nell pulled off her dress. The fabric had became clingy after a while and she needed to be more relaxed. Running shorts and a tshirt would do the trick. Sighing at her reflection, she bit her bottom lip glancing down at her top. The worn coral Nike tshirt was her favourite, it was showing the love and wear in a few spots. Perhaps she should have picked something less frumpy? She was a busy, single mom she didn't have to look the part. Ah fuck, who cared. Henry certainly wouldn't.

He was here to discuss their son, not flirt with her until she gave in to that smile. Or got lost in his eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes – the left with the flecks of brown. His charm alone was enough to make anyone weak in the knees. Damn it, she needed to get over it. He had moved on. She needed to do the same.

Blowing out a breath, Nell reached for the door, pausing when she heard Henry talking. His tone told her that he was speaking to Ivan. Quietly slipping out of the bathroom, she smiled.

“Hold on, just a sec.” He pushed the screen of his phone, allowing the speaker to connect. “Alright, wild boy. Say goodnight to your mum.”

“Mum, momma, mum.” Ivan's voice filled the room. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ivan. Are you being a good boy?”

“Uh huh. I love you. Good night.”

“Good night, wild boy. I love you.”

“Night dad.”

“Good night, I love you. I'm going to be back soon, you go to bed and I will see you first thing in the morning.”

“Okay. Oh, dad, can Kal sleep in my room tonight?” Ivan was fond of the large black and white American Akita. Henry laughed.

“Of course he can. You and Kal go to bed, now.”

“Okay, bye.” A little too quickly, Ivan hung up the phone. Henry laughed at the eagerness, he would talk to his mother when he got back to the house. Making sure that Ivan and his dog had gone to bed as they were told, with no fuss.

"Can you believe he is growing this fast? My god where has that time gone?" Henry rubbed his hands against his face. His mustache and subtle stubble scratching his palms. 

"Time is a cruel mistress." Rubbing her hands on her shorts, Nell stood. "Drink? I have a bottle of Johnnie Walker." 

"Of course you do." Smirking, Henry shifted on the side of the bed. “I had a look at some of these designs, by the way. They're magnificent. My god, Nell, you are so talented.”

“You're saying that to be nice,”

Shaking his head, Henry accepted the glass, resting it on his knee. “No, I am saying it because its true. You are one of the most talented costumers that I had ever met. Are you enjoying the job?”

“I love it.” Nell smiled, leaning against the large wooden desk in the corner. “The work is great, the people are amazing, and Ivan is really enjoying it. I'm glad we went.”

“Good, that's good. He talks about it, a lot. He really seems to love being there. I'm glad. Once things settle, I am going to try and come visit. I kind of miss it, Dublin.”

“You should.” She smiled fighting the urge to scoff and roll her eyes. Henry was always busy. He'd make it to Dublin, when Hell froze over. “So, how is work coming on this new character.”

“I can't say much, but I can say that I will be happy when I can shave.” He rubbed the mustache expertly. “It's not as bad as some of the beards that I've had to grow, but it's not my favourite look.”

“You look good with a beard. I know you hate them, but you do.”

Leaning forward to set his glass on the bedside table, Henry licked the whiskey off of his lips. “I'm glad to have that compliment.”

“Sure.” Nell nodded, tipping her glass to finish the drink. “Another?”

“Uh, I'm good.” Henry motioned to his glass. Rubbing his hands across his jeans, he furrowed his brow. “I've been thinking, since I am fairly busy the next few months, what if I keep Ivan for a few extra days? Once you leave, I will take him back to London with me, until I have to go.”

Shifting on the bed, her face warm from the second glass of whiskey, Nell sniffled and cleared her throat. “What about school?”

“What about it? He isn't going to miss much, is he? They're nearly finished up and I don't know how long it will be, until I see him. Possibly not until Christmas.”

All he wanted was to spend a little time with his son, was that so hard? His next move would have to be calculated, Nell had been known to stat arguments over less. If Henry wanted to avoid a shouting match, he would have to go about this carefully. Reaching for his glass, he downed the remaining contents in one large gulp. Sighing.

“I want to hang out with him a little. It wouldn't be more than three days extra. Then you get some time alone, as well. Nell, I know that you need a bit of a break. You work so hard and take care of Ivan, please.”

“If you want to, then I suppose I can't really say no. What kind of mother would I be, if I didn't let you see him?”

“Don't say things like that, please.” Henry reached out, his hand taking hers. Gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “You are a wonderful mum. You know that.”

“Sometimes, I feel like I could do better. I really do.” Nell shrugged, allowing Henry to continue holding her hand.

“All parents feel that way, I am sure. I know that I feel like that, all the time. I guess it's natural, always wanting to do better, to be better, for our children.”

There he went again. There were times when Nell could not stand to be near him, other times she wanted to be as close as possible. Damn it. Watching him talk about Ivan and the few extras days they would be together, Henry's eyes lit up. His smile broad and the enthusiasm in his voice was one that dictated proud father. Nell nodded, only because she felt it was appropriate to the conversation.

Henry continued to chatter about how he wanted to take Ivan to a new exhibit at the Natural History Museum, in London. Leave it to the father and son, finding a day at the museum to be high on the list of fun. Nell sighed, continuing to half listen, half gaze at Henry in awe. One thing she loved – well love could be a strong word – adored? Enjoyed? About Henry was how much he loved Ivan.

Mid sentence about some Sir David Attenborough documentary that he'd watched with Ivan; Nell couldn't help it any longer. Leaning in, without warning, she grabbed Henry's face turning it to her and kissing him. Lips connecting, she stopped and jumped back as if hit by an electric shock.

Clearing his throat, Henry rubbed the back of his neck, but not pulling back. “I didn't know that the National Geographic was that exciting.”

“I'm sorry.” Hiding her face in her hands, Nell shook her head. Oh that had been a mistake. She had absolutely no right. None. Henry was crazy, if he didn't get up right now and walk out. If he was angry, then she deserved that.

Blushing, Nell shook her head. “Henry, I shouldn't have.”

“I'm certainly not going to complain.” He shrugged, leaning in his arm sliding around her shoulder. Nell glanced up, getting the nerves to look at him. Oh she had fucked up. “Next time, I would like some warning though.”

“Warning? Next time?”

“Hmm, yes. Kind of like this, close your eyes.” Henry instructed pulling her closer and kissing her. Nell sighed her body melting against him. She loved the way his lips felt on hers. Soft, with a slight force.

Straddling his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck, Nell's fingers laced together. Her lips leaving his, tracing along his jaw, nearing the sweet spot below his ear. A slight nip and he was an unraveling mess. Henry nuzzled his face into her hair, she smelled amazing. Comforting and warm. A groan erupted from deep in his throat, as predicted she had gone straight for that spot.

“Nell, Nell,” Henry cleared his throat, holding her at arm's length, “Janelle, stop.” Looking for any sort of sign that she truly felt that this wasn't a good idea, he sucked in a breath. “Are you sure about this? Because if we continue, I won't stop until...”

“I am.” She nodded firmly, “I don't want you to stop. I don't want to stop. Oh god, Henry. Please.”

“I need to know that you truly, absolutely want to do this.”

“If you don't stop talking and bend me over, I am going to kick you out and do this myself. Please, stop talking. If I didn't want this, I wouldn't have started it.”

A deep rumbling laugh followed, Henry rolled his eyes. God, she was something else. Who was he to deny a gorgeous woman what she wanted? Would this come back to haunt him? Probably. Did he care? Not much. Come morning they would once again go their separate ways, but that didn't matter right now. Right now, he could pretend that he had everything he wanted. And what he wanted was her.

Pulling her to him, Henry kissed her hard. Nell moaned, the force of the kiss was nearly dizzying. Arms around his neck, she rubbed her body against his, trying to grasp the friction that was created when she started to grind herself against his thighs.

“Henry,”

“Hold on, you need patience.” He brushed a bit of hair out of her face, “all in good time.”

Nell squealed when he stood, her legs desperately scrambling to hold onto him. In a futile attempt she huffed, when he let her go, standing in front of him pouting. Unbuttoning his shirt, Henry smirked giving her a heated stare. “Well, are you going to get on the bed or make me do all the work? Shorts off.”

Sliding the mesh shorts down her ass and along her legs, Nell made a bit of a show letting them pool at her feet. Stepping out, as slowly as possible, while lifting the old tshirt from her body. Allowing it to go where it would, as she dropped it. Sitting back on the bed, she could feel her heart in her throat and her stomach where her heart should be.

“Lie back.” Henry instructed, kneeling at the edge of the bed. Arms around her thighs, guiding her to him, he studied her for a moment. She was trembling as his fingers slid across her thighs, positioning her in just the right way.

“Oh god, Hen-Henry.” Nell's mouth was suddenly dry and her voice hoarse. His hot breath between her legs was tormenting her, in unimaginable ways. In anticipation she bucked her hips forward, trying to clench her thighs. Holding her knees with his shoulders, Henry chuckled.

“Eager.”

“Please.”

“You are...” He lingered, kissing the inside of her leg. “Gorgeous. Look at you.” He brushed his thumb against her. Nell whimpered trying to push further. “Hold on, hold on.”

“Why are you teasing me?”

“Because I want to enjoy the view, for a moment.” He shrugged, her legs lifting gently. A hand on her lower abdomen, as if holding her in place, he used the other to gently tease and trace along her calf. Without warning, his lips attached to the most sensitive part of her body with his mustache adding an extra sensation, Nell bucked her hips hard, shoving his face further between her thighs.

Nell's head was swimming, it had been a while since she'd felt this good from such an act. Sure, she'd had the odd date here and there, semi-serious relationships, but nobody could do this the way Henry could. He was a fucking magician, she was certain of it. Humming against her mound, Henry couldn't hide the laughter in his eyes, when she began to squirm and wiggle against his face. She was desperate and he was going to prolong this as much as he could.

Sucking her clit, his tongue generously lapping at her, he thoroughly enjoyed the show. Pushing his head as far down as she could, Nell was nearly in tears each time he leaned in, his mustache tickling in just the right way. Oh god, she gasped trying hard to find release. Henry was cunning, backing off at the right moments.

“Henry,” She whined, threading her fingers through his hair. “Don't tease me, I really need you to finish.”

“Stop being so impatient.” He was teasingly stern. Pushing her hands away, he locked his fingers with hers, holding them at her side. Lifting his head, he smirked, kissing up her body ending with another dizzying kiss. Nell sucked on his tongue, freeing her hands from his, she tugged him closer, pulling at fistfuls of hair.

Cleaning herself from his tongue and lips, she sighed. “I'm going to need more than that.”

“You're sure?” Henry paused, holding his weight on his forearms, resting above her. His jeans still on, he could feel the strain against the denim.

“Jeans, off.” She demanded, sitting up to watch. Shivering against the slight chill, her breasts on display giving him the perfect view of her erect nipples. Nell blushed under his gaze. She was not the tight, toned, and perky body she once was. She wasn't out of shape, by any means, but compared to Henry...

“You are gorgeous.” Henry complimented, his jeans on the floor, boxers being pushed down to join them. Stepping out of his pants, he stood at the side of the bed, in all his glory.

Nell licked her lips, reaching out to take him in her hand. Hissing under her touch, Henry involuntarily bucked his hips forward into her hand. Rubbing the head, Nell intently watched Henry while she leaned in taking him fully in her mouth.

“Fuck, Nelly.”

“Hmm,” She hummed, sliding her head back along his length. Hand wrapped around him, stroking in place of her mouth. Bobbing her head back down, she swirled her tongue around the base. He nearly choked her the first time she'd ever gone down on him. Oh how long ago that felt.

Dragging her tongue against his length, she felt her core tighten, with each moan Henry gave. His slight salty taste mixed with the aftertaste of the Johnnie Walker, Nell inhaled deeply through her nose, hollowing her cheeks around him. Gripping the back of her head, Henry tried to not force her too hard, as he began to guide her movement.

Happy to go along with what he needed to feel good, Nell allowed him control over her guidance. Her finger nails grazing the back of his thighs, she mentally checked the small victory when he threw his hips forward at the sensation of her wrapped around him and her nails on his skin.

“Good girl,” Henry mumbled, his head lulling back, his chest rising rapidly. “Keep it up, just like that. Oh shit,”

Nell's chest swelled a little, she could still make him feel good, even after all of this time apart. That was not something she would take lightly, even if this shouldn't be happening. Oh fuck, who cared? They were two consenting adults. Henry's legs quivered, his hands unsteady stroking the back of her head.

“Nell,”

“Hmm?” She glanced up at him. His face soft and his jaw slack, she could feel him tightening. The perfect time to stop her actions. “Not yet,” She smirked, wiping her hand across her chin, drool gone. “Fair is fair.”

“Jesus,” Henry grumbled. He had been so fucking close, the knot in the pit of his stomach clenched Slowing his breathing, he took a moment to think of anything else. Laundry? Running? How much longer until he had to renew his passport?

“Henry?”

“Yeah?” He snapped his head to look at Nell.

“Are we going to stand here all night, or...” She shrugged, a devious smirk on her face. Laying back on the bed, she curled her finger beckoning him to her.

“You're still sure about this?” Henry asked. His eyes on her, waiting to see if she had any hint of doubt or hesitation.

“I don't have a condom, but I'm clean. It's not like I'm getting pregnant, so....” If she were to get pregnant, there was going to be on hell of a hefty lawsuit against that surgeon.

“You're sure? I know that I'm...but I don't have.”

“if you don't want to, then I understand.”

“I do, though, but...”

Nell shook her head. “No buts. If you want me, then I'm yours.”

“Fuck, you're making this hard.”

Giggling, Nell glance down. “I think we're beyond things being hard.”

His body betraying him, Henry cleared his throat, she certainly had a point. Fuck it. What did they have to lose? Unless this, some how, came back to bite them. No, no he had to stop that. Give in, enjoy what was happening. It had been too long since he'd been able to watch her in such bliss. Bliss that he was responsible for.

“You're sure?”

Nell nodded siting up, opening her arms, “Come here.”

On the edge of the bed, Henry sighed, his large frame leaning into her. Nell held him for a moment, stroking his hair, the feel of his warmth against her sent shivers through her spine. Pushing him back on the bed, she bit her bottom lip, waiting for the go ahead. Henry gave her a slight nod, adjusting himself on the bed to get comfortable. Straddling his hips, Nell lifted herself to slowly take him.

Sheathing him inch by inch, Nell groaned at the fullness. This was her favourite part, taking him to the end, feeling him stretch her. Rocking her hips forward, she countered the motion sliding them back in the same tantalizing pace. Henry held her hips, pushing his up to meet her. Nell squeaked and giggled. She loved the way he hit all the right spots.

“You can touch me, don't be shy.” Nell winked, lifting her arms and crossing them above her head, allowing him a full view of her breasts. “Go on.” She encouraged.

His large hands cupping her breasts, Henry softly rolled her hardening nipples between his fingers, giving on a slight flick when she moved herself up on his length. Close to letting him slide out, she moved back down, her ass grinding against him.

The way her body moved against his was mesmerizing. Massaging her supple skin, from her breasts down her sides, one hand settling on her ass and the other on her hip. Henry loved the shape, even if she had changed a little since having Ivan. God she was stunning.

Hastening her pace, Nell rocked back and forth, up and down. Henry closed his eyes feeling every bit of movement, each clench. Taking in the sounds of her breathing, mixed with his, her small moans not going unnoticed.

“Henry,” She whispered, biting her bottom lip, leaning forward to touch her lips against his. “Please,”

Without having to be asked twice, he moved swiftly, turning them over to pin her beneath him. Nell sighed and stretched her arms over her head, the pull of her muscles caused another shiver. Her head now against the pillow, she reached, tracing the lines of his face with her fingertip.

“I don't know that I can be as slow as you were.” Henry nipped her finger. Holding back on his desire to pound her into the bed.

“Then don't.” Nell batted her eye lashes at him.

Somehow that was all he needed, that tiny bit of permission. Picking up the pace, Henry grunted. Nell moaned drawing her knees upward, allowing him an even better vantage to this position. As if the pent up emotions from the last few years, hours, minutes had been released the couple were lost in the sensation of skin on skin. The feeling of sparks and electricity coursing through them. Connecting them.

“Fuck, Janelle.” Henry hissed, his arm locked into position on either side of her head, keeping him from tumbling on top of her.

“Henry,” She squealed splaying her hands against his chest, tugging at the soft hairs. “Oh god. Please, don't stop. My god, oh fuck.”

“You are fucking amazing. Fuck, look at you.” Kissing her roughly, he sighed, steadying his pace. His hips slapping hers, Nell shook slightly her soft sobs of pleasure were enough to send him to an end.

Shaking with pleasure, Nell gasped trying to bring herself down from the high. Henry moaned, his head back and chest heaving. It had been a while since he had felt that good. Nell laid with her legs hooked around his thighs, no desire to move. Collapsing with his head on her chest, Henry allowed his body to rest. Sweaty and sticky, they laid tangled together. Neither one wanting to break the feeling.

Dosing in and out, Nell was the first to move. Her body growing heavy with Henry still on top of her. She needed to move, before seizing up. Pushing his head to the side, she giggled and kissed the tip of her nose when he lazily looked up.

“I need to pee,”

“Hmph.” Henry nodded, slowly rolling over. Allowing her to escape. Laying flat on the bed, while she scurried off to the bathroom, Henry pushed himself up off of the bed. He should be getting back to his parents, back to Ivan.

All thoughts of moving were squashed, when Nell came back, climbing in beside him. Her clothes still on the floor. Her body was comforting against his. “Hi,” she whispered, sliding in under his arm.

“Nell?” Henry laid with his arm around her shoulder.

“Huh?” Nell grunted, her face buried in his chest.

“I should head back.”

“If you want to. You can stay, I don't mind.” Nell yawned. Her eyes closing.

“Okay, but only for a little while.” Henry agreed, closing his eyes. In a few minutes, he would get up, shower, and head back.

With a start, Henry woke, a loud banging noise rattling him. Looking around the dark room, he squinted to find the source of the noise. Hearing someone whispering at a distance, Henry laid in bed, listening. Against him, Nell stirred, but didn't wake. Someone in the hall was talking, no doubt they had been the source of the banging. He had fell asleep, Nell wrapped against him.

Looking at his watch, Henry frowned. 4am. If he left right now, he could be back before anybody woke. If he left now, he risked Kal barking and waking the house. If he waited, he would risk walking in and having to explain himself to one or more person. Of course he could tell them that he'd ran into some old friends, had some drinks and stayed on a sofa somewhere. Too drunk to drive.

Shifting in bed, Nell sighed, her arm around his waist she snuggled in closer. She was content, who was Henry to try and disturb her sleep? He would wait an hour or two, before he made his departure. So what if he waltzed in, being faced by one of his brothers, or even his mother. He was an adult, if he wanted to stay out all night enjoying the company of a fantastic woman, then he would do just that.

Kissing the top of Nell's head, Henry smiled, sinking down further into the covers, closing his eyes.

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[wowweeharrystyles]

Part 15 | The Final Show | 5.9k 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.

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A/N: as the title suggests, this is the final show, the end of s&z. I want to thank literally anyone who has read a single word of this story. I started Aurora & Harry’s story at the end of hslot18 & was working on it off & on but set out to finish & post it all in 2020. Thank you for not only reading but for bearing with me when I posted late or not at all. I love these 2 with my whole ass heart. & a big sappy shout out to @sadaboutniall​ for chatting through S&Z with me for well over a year & not getting sick of me (or at least not telling me AKLNADSHADF) & for still to this day sending me links to random things & being like ‘omg this is so aurora’ 🖤

anyways, here we go, the final part to Aurora & Harry’s story, for now. 

love you all, mean it. 

Don’t forget to reblog :) 

__________

Aurora made sure to wake up before Harry. She knew it wouldn’t be too hard considering how late they were up after the show last night, high off the 1st show in LA and celebrating Mitch’s birthday. She wrote him a note saying she’d meet him at The Forum and left it on his bedside table. Tiptoeing through Harry’s unfamiliar LA home, Aurora gets ready quickly. It’s gonna be a long day, she knows it and the early sunrise is just starting to cast through the windows. Her phone dings from her bag on the counter and it’s Jeff letting her know a car is picking her up from Harry’s in 10 minutes. 

She’s still not used to all of this, the jet black private cars and the back doors to arenas even after 67 shows in 5 months. It still makes her anxiety spike when she doesn’t know where she is exactly or where she’s going. She’s learned to trust more, trust her own gut, trust people that are on her side, her team, her family. Aurora’s still not used to the fact that this is her life but just as it’s gotten more and more familiar, it’s about to change. 

Large cardboard boxes are waiting for her when she gets to The Forum and meets up with Jeff.

“Have you opened them yet?” Aurora asks him, giddily. 

“Nope, was waiting for you. It’s all you,” Jeff says while motioning to the boxes. 

Aurora rips open the top box and a wide smile finds a home on her face. 

Harry Styles

The Final Show

Of The 

First Tour

Of The

Debut Album

Los Angeles

California

“Oh my god, they’re perfect,” Aurora exclaims. As she admires them Jeff is directing a group of people to start handing them out. Aurora grabs one for her and another for Harry before she gets to work helping hand out the tshirts to everyone. The crew and all the tour staff are changing into the matching white t-shirts when Aurora’s phone chimes with a text from Harry letting her know he’s left and on the way. Aurora’s smile hasn’t left her face since she got to The Forum this morning and she knows the smile will only get bigger as the day goes on. She also knows that if she stops smiling she might start crying and she’s not ready for that yet. 

Aurora and Helene make their way to the tunnel they know Harry will be driving into and parking his car. They’re waiting for him in their matching t-shirts, Helene’s camera ready and giggling about something from the night before when they see the first glimpse of Harry’s bright yellow car come into view up the ramp. His windows are down, music is playing loudly and he’s wearing his pink tinted sunglasses as he pulls in. People are bustling around, some arriving for the first time today and others already running around with lists to complete before the final show. Everyone looks the same and it’s exactly how Aurora wanted it. The celebratory t-shirts remind her of the big productions they put on at school or the end of year dance recitals. She likes the feeling it creates when everyone’s decked out in their shirts and she wants to celebrate Harry and his entire team. The final show. It’s marking the end of an era. His era. 

When Harry gets out of his car, tossing his duffle over his shoulder and sliding his glasses into his hair he stops before he gets to closing the driver door. Aurora hears the click of Helene’s camera. A dimpled smile forms on Harry’s face and no one is really sure if it’s because Aurora’s waiting for him or it’s the tshirts everyone seems to have gotten the memo about. He closes the door eventually and beelines straight for Aurora. 

“I have a feeling you have something to do with this,” Harry says as he tugs lightly at Aurora’s t-shirt. 

“Might have,” she giggles before kissing him quickly. “Happy final show day!” 

“Don’t make me cry already,” he whines, wrapping his arms around Aurora’s shoulders before hiding his face in her hair. 

There hasn’t been a single moment of silence all day. The excited chatter, the reminiscing of the crazy moments of the past 5 months, the inevitable tears from just about everyone as they begin their goodbyes. Aurora hasn’t strayed much from Harry all day, only once to sneak out to the entrance of The Forum to see all the displays with Helene and check out the lines of fans. Aurora had to cut her adventure short when she felt her eyes start to fill with tears. She wasn’t ready to deal with that yet. 

They’re finally alone in Harry’s dressing room and the silence is welcomed. There’s still bustling and muted chatter and excitement coming from the other side of the door. 

Aurora adjusts the shoulders of Harry’s velvet jacket once he’s slid his arms through the sleeves. She lets out a heavy sigh when she drops her arms to her sides. Harry gives her a look that she can only guess is in place of a million words that he can’t manage to string together right now. Aurora has a million and one that she would like to say to him but it’s not the time or place and she really doesn’t want to cry right now. In the silence, Harry pulls at Aurora’s shoulder and wraps his arms around her tight. 

“Your shirt is gonna get all wrinkly,” Aurora comments after a few beats. She doesn’t make a move to pull away from Harry, instead she carefully buries her head into his shoulder and squeezes him tighter. 

As if on cue, a knock on the door pulls them apart. Harry calls back letting whoever had knocked that he’ll be ready in a minute. Harry kisses Aurora quickly before he grabs his boots from the bottom of the wardrobe case and sits down on the couch to slide them on. 

“Ope, love, got some lipstick on you,” Aurora notices. Her lips quirk up in a smirk as she grabs for a makeup wipe nearby. Harry’s standing from the couch when she turns back to him. “Lemme,” she offers, a soft hand reaching up to cup his jaw to hold his head in place. As she goes to wipe away the red waxy mark across his mouth, she pauses first. “One last good luck kiss,” she whispers. When her lips meet his, it's like their tiny little world unfurls right before them. As if today hadn’t been reminiscent enough, Aurora is reminded of all the moments they’ve spent here in what feels like the same dressing room that has just been picked up and moved to another city every day. As Harry runs a light touch down Aurora’s arm they’re both reminded of the small burn mark that’s left from the steamer back in Germany. And Aurora can’t help but pull him in closer because that was one of those early memories that she knew he was a good one, that he wasn’t just some rich pop star that had a revolving door of women coming through his hotel rooms. Another knock pulls them away, yet again. And when Aurora opens her eyes she can't help but squint because she has literally sunshine staring back at her. She steps away only a few inches and goes back to what she was meant to be doing. Wiping away the red stain from Harry’s mouth, she avoids his eyes and focuses on the colour disappearing from his skin. 

“Should touch up your lippy,” Harry chuckles when Aurora fully pulls away to toss the dirty makeup wipe in the bin. Aurora takes a look in the mirror and laughs along with him. 

“Yikes, I’ll fix this and meet you out there okay?” 

“Promise me you’ll be right here when I get off stage tonight?” 

“Of course,” Aurora promises, squeezing his hand. The last bit of the pre show playlist starts to near the end and Aurora wants to find her spot in the audience and she has just one last surprise for Harry before he starts his last show. “I should go find my seat,” she almost whispers, not really wanting to leave him just yet, but time is running out. She reluctantly kisses his cheek, careful not to leave any lipstick behind and pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket and hands it to him. “Thought I owed you a note,” she says before she begins to walk away. “Good luck!” She blows him one last kiss before walking through a curtain, away from Harry and into the audience.

Harry, 

No words will ever properly describe how proud I am of you. You will forever be my biggest inspiration; from your music to the way kindness is embedded in everything you do. You have changed so many people's lives and I am lucky enough to say that mine is forever changed because I am loved by you. I love you so much. 

You are absolute sunshine. 

Have fun on stage, rockstar. 

Love ya ta bits, Harry Styles. 

All the love. As always, 

Rory

Nobody is there to see it, but his eyes sparkle, even in the dark of the backstage. The sparkle could be a reflection from the already flashing stage lights or it could be another tear trying to make its way out of his eye, it’s hard to tell at this point. He takes a shaky breath and thanks all the rock gods before him for his life. He reads the note one more time before folding it back up and sliding into the pocket at the inside of his jacket and running up the stairs as the opening of Only Angel begins. 

“Good evening, Los Angeles. Welcome to the final show!” Harry speaks for the first time since appearing on the stage. There are chills running down Aurora’s spine as the entire arena erupts in earth shattering screams in reaction to Harry using his own lyrics as an homage to the tour. Aurora keeps catching the faces of fans in the pit and around her when the lights flicker against their tear splotted faces but bright smiles still permanently shine regardless. She can’t even begin to explain the beating of her heart, the fullness of her chest, the tingle in her fingers. It’s truly remarkable that they can hear Harry’s voice at all over everyone singing along to every song. 

As Stockholm Syndrome begins, Aurora smiles even brighter remembering where it all started. The pink suit she had to repair in a quick few minutes and hearing a lone Harry Styles sing a song the world is used to hearing being sung by 5 boys. It’s a moment of shock that jolts Aurora as she stands against the banister and she shakes her head because she’s missing it. Missing Harry give this song his all. Probably the last time he’ll ever perform this song. Cause the next time around he’ll have more of his own music to share and won’t be able to make a disclaimer about only having 10 songs to his own name. 

Alongside Stockholm Syndrome, there’s a list of songs he’ll never perform live again but Aurora does her best not dwell on that because she gets to hear him sing for the rest of her life. 

Sweet Creature and If I Could Fly leave the majority of the audience swaying slowly, still singing along and Harry barely manages to open his eyes. When he does open his eyes it's only for a moment and he’ll catch a glimpse of someone in front of him and he can’t help but stupidly smile. He’s soaking it all in. He wants to remember this feeling. He wants to remember the sound of an echoey arena when the audience sings along gently, completely in unison, filling in the parts he doesn’t sing anymore. They aren’t yelling or screaming the lyrics, but treating them with care, the same way Harry has delivered these lyrics to them every night. He tries to quiet them down and it takes longer than it has any other night. 

“Shh, it’s your turn,” he says with such a calming tone that Aurora stops dead in her tracks. She knows that voice better than anyone and she instantly loses the tingling of nerves in her fingers. She welcomes the calm and closes her eyes for a second. The sound of everyone in the room finishing If I Could Fly for him makes his heart float right up to his throat and it threatens to fall out and explode as the singing continues and he keeps playing his guitar. God, he’ll miss this, he thinks. He finishes the last few lines with the audience and closes his eyes again. He’s really gonna fucking miss this. 

“I’d like to invite my wonderful band up on the stage,” Harry interludes while moving his mic to a new spot and adjusting his guitar. A little surprise for the final show. And yet again, Harry shushes the audience as the excitement of something unique to the Final Show arises. 

I’ve got a girl crush. 

The audience erupts so loudly so quickly it's startling. It's impressive how loud the audience is when they start singing along to a song that hasn’t been on a single set list all tour. The way Harry sings this song in particular reminds Aurora of all the times she gets to hear him sing when he’s on his own, not putting on a show, singing for himself. 

I hate to admit it but, I’ve got a heart rush, it ain’t slowing down.

This is how he sounds when he’s messing around, having fun, pure undeniable joy while singing. It’s different behind closed doors somehow. He doesn’t mind when his voice cracks, or belts too high and he can’t finish the lyrics or even a single word. He laughs at himself in those moments and Aurora isn’t sure if he’s aware of it when he’s singing around like that. She loves him in those moments, soft and carefree. 

“This is the final night of the tour, of everything,” Harry says after the lights on the audience have turned up and he’s back on the mainstage. He points to a fan in the audience “What’s wrong with you?” He mimics the girl shaking her head, clearly not wanting to come to terms that this is the final show. “Oh you’re just sad?” he asks to confirm. Harry’s voice pitches up, “how do you think I feel?” and the audience erupts in laughter. It's the theme of the evening, being emotional over the final show, being excited to be there. Harry see’s Kacey in the middle of the pit and she’s holding a sign thanking him. Harry praises her from the stage and thanks her in return for joining the tour. 

“We’re gonna sing another song for you now, but before we go any further I will be thanking people along the way. I hope you don’t mind. There are so many people in this audience tonight that quite simply I wouldn’t be on this stage without.” Harry pauses and turns his head in the direction where he knows everyone close to him is at. “All of you, you know who you are. Thank you so much for coming tonight. I love you very much. Thank you for being here with us tonight.” Somehow in a room of thousands of people Harry finds Aurora’s eyes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he runs on before a quick pause. “And,” he gathers his thoughts again, clearly losing what he was meaning to say or do next, “I’ll see you in a little bit,” he rambles quickly. 

“Promise me you’ll be right here when I get off stage tonight?”

The simple request rings in Aurora’s head and she misses what he says or does next but when she focuses back in the opening notes give her the gist of what he might have said. 

It’s the song that made him. The beginning of it all, really. Yelling along to these lyrics is anyone's right of passage into the room filled with love and kindness. Aurora knows this song isn’t one that will be performed for it’s last time tonight. It's his anthem as an artist, as Harry Styles. It's the song anyone and everyone knows regardless if you were ever a One Direction or Harry Styles fan. What Makes You Beautiful echoes off the walls and the floor and the ceiling and even though Harry has fully made it his own, changed the octave, changed the backing track, changed the rhythm of the lyrics, every single person that fills The Forum is singing along like it’s the original track. As the audience sings the version they’ve known for 7 years and Harry performs his solo rendition, it’s hard to fight the utter joy that erupts in Aurora’s chest. 

The anthem is completed with Harry dancing around the stage while waving 3 different flags. The image alone ecompases the whole point of this song, the whole point of this tour, the whole entire fucking point of Treat People With Kindness. And right now there’s nothing more Aurora loves than watching Harry dance along to the “na na na’s.” His hair wildly flopping around, the light reflecting off of the gold and silver details, the sight of the ENTIRE pit jumping up and down. 

“Okay, let’s get emotional,” Harry says before asking for the lights up again. “Thank you, this is part of the show where I’m gonna say thank you to a couple people, then I’m gonna sing a song and then I’m gonna leave. We’re gonna all pretend like I’ve gone but 90 seconds later I’m gonna come back and do a couple more songs. Alright?” Screams, nothing but screams fill the room. 

As Harry begins his thank you speech to his crew Aurora just knows. He’s hitting that point where it’s all really sinking in. He’s taking long pauses between words but masking it as needing to take a breather from being out of breath from singing and dancing. Aurora knows, though. She knows he’s pushing back the tears, swallowing down the bittersweetness of it all. 

“Thank you to my friends, my family, my manager, to all who are all in the audience tonight.” And then Harry starts to stutter over his words. “I-I have to thank my Head of Wardrobe that’s been on tour with me since March.” Aurora brings her hands up to her heart because this is the thank you she wasn’t prepared for. “Thank you for making me sparkle just right on stage and for making sure this was always a family show after I ripped several trousers.” And that’s where Harry leaves it. He doesn’t finish the family show bit, but the audience knows enough to finish it for him. 

Aurora’s in shock. It was unexpected and she feels like there’s cotton in her ears as the audience continues to scream and she hears waves of “aw” coming from the fans when they put it together. Jeff claps a hand on Aurora’s shoulder and it brings her back to the moment. Aurora mouths a thank you to Harry on stage while he’s still looking in her direction. 

Harry shakes his head before completing his thank yous to the fans. The ones who made this all possible. 

Sign of the Times hurts. It really truly hurts. The way his vocals are pretty much perfect and there’s almost a pained look on his face as he belts through it. Aurora doesn’t take her eyes off of him the entire time. He feels it too, the heavy emotion of the song. And he knows he’s not crying in a cool way, he’s crying cause this is it for now. This is the last of it. There's no reason to act cool about it. And Aurora can see the sparkle in his eye and it’s not from the rhinestones on his jacket. It’s from the tears that are welling up in his waterline 

And it’s when he snaps his mic back into the stand at center stage, lets out a quick breath through pursed lips, his eyes looking up to the ceiling, that Aurora knows he’s really crying. The quick wipe across his eyes and cheek solidifies the thought. 

We don’t talk enough. We should open up. 

And then there are tears brimming in her eyes. And as he continues to sing Sign of the Times she lets the tears fall for the first time that day. 

“I hope to be seeing you all very soon.” The gritty opening of Kiwi starts and it rattles Aurora’s chest. The last and final song of the tour. Harry blows Aurora a kiss before fully going for it. It's the end and he’s got nothing to lose. 

There’s a sinking feeling when Harry goes for his water bottle once he’s finished singing the last lyric of Kiwi. It’s the end. 

But it seems that it’s not. His band doesn’t stop playing and Harry swallows the last gulp of water he took and launches into Kiwi for a 2nd time. 

Aurora’s jaw drops. She had no idea. He hadn’t told her about this. She wishes she could say she’s surprised that this is something he planned but she really isn’t. When she thinks about it, she should’ve known. 

It’s pure adrenaline coursing through him. There are no words to describe him on stage right now. Carefree or loose doesn’t even cut it. He’s out of breath but STILL dancing around, singing into the mic and engaging with the audience and his band. 

“Holland tunnel for a nose it’s always backed up!” The audience yells when he points the mic towards them unable to finish the line himself. 

And then he snaps his mic into the stand and starts to jog down the stairs and through the aisle. Aurora just laughs cause at this point there’s literally no telling what he does next. A cordless mic appears in his hand halfway down the aisle. 

I’m having your baby!

He appears on the b stage, a spotlight following him the entire time. As Harry dances along to the music Aurora’s hands go into her hair and her eyes widen. She can’t help but shake her head when he changes the lyrics. 

She’s all over me and I'm exhausted, I’m exhausted. Sing it ! 

And he’s running back down the stairs, through the aisle again and up the main stage stairs. Aurora’s still in her spot unable to even dance around or sing along as she watches him. It’s entrancing to watch this all go down in front of her. He catches a sunflower mid air when he’s back on stage. Literally anything could happen at this point. 

Aurora’s sure he’s gonna collapse right there on stage but he doesn’t, yet. He takes a last sip of water and makes his way to center stage for the finale. 

He sticks his tongue out which indicates to the fans that he’s not finished yet, he’s not ending this night just yet. He’s not about to do the signature whale. Instead, he pumps up the crowd, mouthing “make some noise,” and then he motions to Alex, his guitar tech and the rest of his sound crew that are at the side of the stage. Aurora catches him yelling “I’m exhausted,” to them but still turns away and walks back to center stage. He makes eye contact with each of his band mates and circles a hand around above his head to indicate One More Time. He raises up his pointer finger to Mitch, “one more time” he mouths at him. 

“Should we do it one more time?” Harry yells. 

Earth shattering screams are the response and Aurora thinks all the times before when she thought that she’s never heard such a deafening audience she was wrong. Because now, in this moment at The Forum with Harry asking the audience if he should do Kiwi for a 3rd time she knows it’s the loudest thing she’s ever heard in her entire life. The sound will ring in her ears for days. 

And so he goes for it again. A third time. Now she’s in shock. 

She worked her wait through a cheap pack of cigarettes, 

Hard liquor mixed with a little bit of intellect

And all the boys they were saying she was into it

Such a pretty-

He’s well and truly out of breath. The look on his face is helpless. “Sing it,” he manages to breathe out into the mic before almost doubling over. So instead of taking the mic with him and trying to muster through the vocals, he leaves the mic snapped in and walks away from it. He’s mouthing the lyrics as every single person in the audience yells them to him. He’s walking back and forth from stage left to stage right, making sure to give enough of himself to every single person in the room. 

The shock has slightly worn off and there’s a hint of concern weighing on Aurora but she still sings along with everyone. He ends up singing some of the chorus but he really can’t get through much of it on his own. He doesn’t finish a single line himself the rest of the song but he doesn’t care, nobody cares. Even though he can't muster up the energy or adrenaline to sing he doesn’t stop dancing. He’s tangling himself up in his mic cord and Aurora hopes he’s got enough luck and adrenaline left in him to not fall. 

And now she’s all over me, it’s like I paid for it, It’s like I paid for it,  I'm gonna pay for this. 

He drops to his knees center stage, head hanging low. It's a quick second of pure exhaustion before he’s bobbing his head around, hair flying and arms pumping. 

Finally, as Kiwi comes to an end for the 3rd time that night, he takes a sip of water and gives the final show. He sprays water into the air, the music blares out and the lights flare. 

“I’m gonna go get him,” Aurora tells Jeff before leaving their section. She moves through the pit as Harry is hugging his band once the music ends. She understands now, the last thing he said to her before getting on stage. The look on his face when he goes to hug Mitch says it all. Aurora waits backstage near the stage steps, watching Harry, Mitch, Sarah, Clare and Adam take their final bow. She hugs Harry’s bandmates as they come down the stairs one at a time. Harry is taking one more lap of the stage before he is walking off, a stark contrast from how he normally runs off the stage after all of his other shows. When he reaches the stairs he walks down slowly and lets out a big sigh, shoulders dropping and a hopeless look appears on his face as his feet hit the floor. Aurora feels like she can’t move fast enough towards him even though she’s not even 2 feet from the stairs. She wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders, his face instantly finding a home hiding in her neck. A sob racks through his chest and she reaches up to place a hand in his hair. He’s breathing heavily and she’s running her hand over the back of his head, smoothing down his curls. Harry wraps his arms around her waist, his grip getting tighter every second they stand there.  

“Hey, Sunshine,” Aurora says softly, her hands making their way to Harry’s cheeks, so she can look him in the eyes. Once she makes out his face in the dark, she can see that his eyes are already swelling up from the tears that are now consistently flowing down his cheeks. “Hey,” she coos at him, using the pads of her thumbs to wipe the tears from the top of his cheeks. Aurora’s heart breaks at the sight in front of her but she knows she needs to be his rock right now. She can be sad about this tour ending later. She can be emotional about how proud she is of Harry, later. Aurora kisses him softly, fitting their lips together perfectly, just as they always do. The kiss is a bit more wet than normal, from the tears still falling down Harry’s face. When they break apart, he offers her a small smile before there’s a laugh erupting from him. He takes his hands from her waist and uses the back of his hands to wipe at his eyes roughly. 

“That was the final show,” he says softly. 

“Yeah,” she sighs, her hands reaching to grab for his, “you did it, Rockstar.” He drops his head onto Aurora’s shoulder again. He’s utterly exhausted, physically and emotionally.  “Come on, let’s go get you some water and I’m pretty sure you’ve got some friends that wanna say congrats.”  She drops his hands and wraps one arm around his waist and he throws one over her shoulder as they make their way to the double doors that lead them to the dressing rooms and lounges. 

“Thanks for being there when I got off,” he says as he presses a kiss to her hair, “knew I was barely gonna make it to the end.” 

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 

It’s a weird feeling, pulling every single suit from the wardrobe cases. It’s a weird feeling to be around while the stage gets taken down. They never stayed long enough after a show night to see it get taken down, Aurora’s only ever seen it being built night after night. It’s stupidly therapeutic and symbolic Aurora thinks to herself as she checks off another item of clothing on her list. 

She really doesn’t have to be organizing Harry’s suits right now. She doesn’t need to be taking inventory at this exact moment. This could easily wait till tomorrow afternoon. But Harry’s been lingering around the Forum since his last guest left. He’s completely sober even after the several drinks he tossed back with friends in the backstage lounge in celebration. Everyone’s left besides the crew. Harry can’t pull himself together enough to leave and accept that tour is over. That this era is over. 

“I’m gonna go away for awhile. I’m gonna make some more music and I will see you again very soon.”

The 2 sentences echo in his head. The hitch in his throat comes back every time he thinks about it. He’s having a hard time saying goodbye to this. He’s never loved the end of tour. It’s too bittersweet. The performing bit is his favourite part of his job. This time though, it's more bitter than sweet because he doesn't have to go running back home to fit in all the time with his loved ones. The past 2 years have been on his terms. He doesn’t have to hectically plan visits or vacations. He gets to take his time. Go stay with his mum for a month if he wants, travel with Gemma and Michael, visit his god children, freaking write music whenever he wants, whenever the inspiration comes about. 

Harry knows the inspiration won’t be hard to find. He takes a glance over at Rory. Her tongue is poking out between her lips in concentration as she examines another one of his suits. He can’t help the blush that rises to his cheeks as he watches her. His Rory. He knows in the back of his mind that he’ll have to say goodbye to her more than he would like in the next couple of months. More goodbyes than they’ve ever shared in the past 5. That’s what makes this more bitter than sweet. 

Harry just sits on one of the crates as he chats with his crew. It’s the most genuine time he’s been able to spend with them but he knows these people, his tour family. He asks a few about how their wives are doing and when the due dates are of their babies. He jokes about hoping he didn’t work them too hard and to expect a call from him in the future to pack it all up again and get on with another tour. Harry’s laughter echoes through the emptying arena and every so often it pulls Aurora from her concentration. She catches his eyes sometimes and she can’t help but smile. And in the bright overhead lights of the almost empty arena, the brightest light is the one smiling back at her. Harry’s tear streaked face, unruly curls and dimpled cheeks are the only thing that she can focus on. 

Aurora now stands near the door that leads back to the dressing rooms, her wardrobe cases ready to be packed up and dealt with later. She watches as Harry continues to shake every single person’s hand. He thanks everyone individually, even approaches the Forum’s cleaning staff that are weaving in and out of the seats. Every few thank you’s he looks back at her, his Rory. His Rory who has been his rock, his best friend, his stylist, his lover. There are too many words to describe his Rory but also not enough. He doesn’t think he could’ve made it through this tour without her and he’s so fucking thankful. 

When he finally joins Aurora in the doorway he presses a sure kiss to her forehead, their hands tangling together. They don’t say anything as they walk back through the now empty halls back to Harry’s car parked on the other side of the arena. Harry’s lost in his head and so is Aurora and neither of them need to say anything to each other at this moment. 

Harry can’t grasp how he’s supposed to explain to Aurora that he didn’t expect her to have this amount of an impression on him. Didn’t expect her to change his entire life. How does he explain to her that he doesn’t think he could’ve done all that he’s done since March without her? How does he show her that she means that much to him? 

Harry doesn’t know, but Aurora's thoughts line up almost perfectly with his.

And as they get into his car, buckle their seatbelts and make their way home Harry doesn’t turn on the music and Aurora simply reaches for his hand to anchor herself to this moment. It’s way too late at night, or maybe by this point too early in the morning but when Aurora looks at Harry, it all comes flooding back to her. 

Sunshine in its purest form is sitting next to her. When Harry catches Aurora’s gaze before driving out of the parking lot he remembers all the things they’ve done, all the things they’ve seen and he can’t help but be excited for what will happen next. 

He can't’ wait to see the colours she’ll shine just for him, his own Aurora Borealis. 

She doesn’t have to go a day without sunshine. 

Who knew that a pink Gucci suit would have started all of this. 

🖤🖤🖤

#Sequins & zippers #aurora on tour #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #one direction writing #one direction fanfic #1d fanfic #Harry styles #harry styles x ofc

[spookidema]

Never Trust a Stranger

Day 2 of Spooki Month

Vampire!Park Seonghwa

Genre: Angst

Summary: You don't know how you were convinced to be at this club on Halloween but you wanted to be anywhere but here. Rumors of things that go bump in the night get more frequent during this time of year, and you wanted nothing more than not to be the dinner of a creature of the night, but we don't always get what we want.

Author Note: Welcome to post number 2 also known as Day 2 of Spooki Month. This one also was suposed to be posted yesterday but Tumblr deleted the writing in the draft. Hope you enjoy and again watch out for more coming up. Also the look Seonghwa is wearing is the outfit he wore on Weekly Idol. The episode where Yeosang exposed him, San, and Wooyoung.

Tag: @alwayschoosechocolate​

You wanted nothing to do with the club you are currently in. Most people could tell by the way you stood at the bar instead of dancing with the group of old college friends, that convinced you to join them clubbing. Tell by the way you swirled the drink in your hand with disinterest. Clubs were never really your scene. You were more of a 'wine at home with a good movie' kind of person than a 'sweaty nightclub during October' kind of person.

"Come on, (Y/N)," Jisoo, one of your old college friends, begged. "Come dance with us."

"Jisoo, I'm fine here watching," you said smiling at the slightly drunk girl. "Go have fun."

"But you have been sitting here alone since we got here," Jisoo continued to beg." Who knows the next time we will all be together again."

"We have all night, Jisoo," you waved dismissively. "Go have fun, bud. Who knows? You might find someone to take home."

Jisoo rolled her eyes playfully before sauntering away back to the crowd in the middle of the dance floor.

Turning back to your drink at the bar, you were just about to take a sip of your drink as someone slipped beside you. You looked over to the person. It was a tall male. His black hair was swept back and to the side. He wore a simple white tshirt, black leather jacket, and black jeans with a simple silver necklace and a single hooped earring. His features were sharp and slightly intimidating. Just for a split second, you swore that his eyes flashed a crimson color but it could been a trick of the light.

"I wouldn't drink that if I was you," he said. His voice was velvety and deep. "Huh," all you said as you stared at him."

"Your drink," he continued slowly." I wouldn't drink it if I were you. I just saw someone put something in it while you were talking to your friend."

"Damn it," you growled pushing the drink away from you." Fucking hell, what's wrong with people?"

"They wanted an easy target, I'm guessing," the man shrugged leaning on the bar. "Taking a distracted woman and wait the 30 minutes just to try and swoop in to be the savior of the day to take advantage of the poor girl as they tried to 'help'."

"Sounds like you're familiar with this type of situation," you said with a raised eyebrow. "Play hero often?"

"Considering I have to keep the people of my club safe," he said with a smirk.

"Your club," interest laced your voice." You own this place?"

"My brother and I own this place," he replied." We barely come to this floor of this club."

"Well then," you nodded." Can I get the name of the mystery owner of this fine establishment?"

"Park Seonghwa," Seonghwa answered," can I have the name of the beautiful woman who I saved?"

"(Y/N)," you answered as well.

"Nice to meet you," Seonghwa said waving to the bartender.

AS the bartender approached, you started to feel like someone/someones was staring at you. You looked around and you saw seven pairs of eyes on you from the upstairs balcony. The shortest one was giving you a smirk making you tense up as Seonghwa tapped the side of your arm. When you looked toward Seonghwa, Seonghwa's eyes glowed slightly and you stared for a second before the glow died and the tension melted off.

"I had the bartender make you one of me and my brother's favorite drinks," Seonghwa said his eyes brown." It's really good."

"Oh really," you said looking into the glass he slid your way ." My momma always said never to take drinks from handsome strangers."

"Smart woman," he chuckled as his voice slipped slightly more velvety."Drink it." Without another word you drank the drink. It was fruit with a slight metallic taste. It lacked the usual alcohol taste, but never the last it was good.

"There you go,"Seonghwa smiled slightly."Now tell me about yourself."

And that you did.

You told him about how you a 22 year old AB- art major who lived with three cats and two cacti. How you were not really a people person never the less a club person. How you don't really talk to many people have from a couple of boys you worked with and a couple of their roommates. How you rarely speak to your family due to them not caring for the major you chose.

As you spilled your guts, time seemed to pass quickly.

Your friends would tap you every once in a while to tell you that they were leaving one by one with people that peaked their interest and you nodded to them to acknowledge them but you really didn't take your eyes off Seonghwa.

Once you finished, Seonghwa stared at you for a moment. You head spinning slightly making you sway on your feet for a second.

"You wanna get out of here," he asked tilting his head back slightly.

"And where would we go," you questioned raising one of your eyebrows.

"I have a couple of places in mind. You want to invite me to your apartment," he smirked and for some reason your body started to go into 'fight or flight' mode and running was what you wanted to do.

"I should really get home," you declined with a forced smile pushing from the bar.

"Let me walk you then," Seonghwa insisted as he paid for your tab from your earlier drinks."You were drinking and its late."

"No, that’s fine," you said glancing back to balcony again seeing the seven pairs of eyes still staring down at you."I don't live far. Thanks though."

"I don't like being refused,(Y/N)," his face set straight as you go to walk away,"Let me walk you home. Call it even for earlier."

"No,Seonghwa," you said glaring slightly."Look. Thanks for the save and the drink and conversation, but my answer is no. No, you can not walk me home."

AS you walked away, you could feel his eyes follow you and he seemed pissed.

Making your way home under the October harvest moon, you couldn't help to feel like Seonghwa's rage was following making you feel paranoid. You were looking behind you every now and then. Your apartment building was just in sights when you were pulled into an alleyway.A hand covered your month as you were slammed into the side of one of the buildings. Red glowing stared down at you.

"Tsk,tsk,(Y/N). You should have just let me take you home and we could have done this in the comforts of your home and not in a dirty alley."

Seonghwa. He followed you.

"You could have died in your warm home, but you had to be difficult," he shook his head sneering causing a sharp pearly tooth to be exposed." I hate it when my food doesn't listen."

'Vampire,' you thought gasping behind his hand. You tried to push him away. "Stop moving," he glowed out making your arms to drop involuntary to your sides and your body to go slack slightly."Much better. You know when you said you blood type was AB-, I almost drained you right there in the club. I love AB-. So so rare but so so sweet."

The chills of terror spread across your body. Ice filled your veins as Seonghwa licked his lips taking his hand away from your mouth to cradle your jaw tilting it to the side. Seonghwa chuckled lowly as he leaned into your neck breathing in deeply.

"This is going to hurt a lot," he said scraping one of his fangs down your neck."Do not scream."

Then he sank his teeth into your neck.

It felt like knives or needles were digging their way into every inch of your body draining you of all your blood. Felt like the heat of the sun was injected straight in your bloodstream. You wished you could scream but somehow Seonghwa made it where you couldn't. Your body completely went slack causing Seonghwa to hold your form. You were becoming weak as time passed. Spots swimming in you vision.

As Seonghwa unlatched himself from you neck, he let you fall onto the ground. You laid on the ground soundless your vision darkening as he knelt down brushing hair from your face.

"Shame to leave you dying in this alley,(Y/N)," he said smoothing down your hair."Alone without anyone knowing til its too late. Goodbye,(Y/N)."

He sunk into the darkness disappearing. You let out a string of wimpier as you were finally able to make sounds. You started saying your goodbyes in the darkness as your vision left you.

Muffled footsteps enter your ears as you faded.

"Hyung, she's dying," one voice said. "Help her."

"We have you, ....,"another voice said. "We won't let you die."

#park seonghwa fanfic #park seonghwa angst #ateez vampire au #ateez angst #might continue this one dont know yet #halloween #spookidema

[floatingfish626]

MC Server ಥ_ಥ

Me and a group of friends made our own MC server. Unfortunately, the server was abandoned. Me, being the person I am, still feel the server has potential, so I still play/write lore for it. This may be wayyyy out of the usual for my page but lets be honest, who actively stalks my tumblr page? This is mostly gonna be a place for me to dump the failed server ideas/backstories. So, here goes nothing. If you wanna read them, random stranger, feel free to! I wanted this server to last a while, and we made it almost 2 months with about 12 people in total. So, enjoy!

Word Count: 2,603  (11,679 Characters)

**ALL ORIGINS ARE WRITTEN BY SEPERTE PEOPLE, ALL EDITED BY ME, NONAME**

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Character Origin 1, Seven: Seven was born into a life of poverty, shortly after he was born, he got sold to work as a slave on a sea village, quickly being transferred to a sand village outside of a prison. He did is work as a farmer to a small, yet kind and caring family, who adopted him as their own. His name, Seven, coming from a number tattooed on his neck while in the market. During Seven’s time at this small village, they had a fatal accident, having a berserk enderman ruin the home he had grown custom to. He rebuilt the fallen Village, only to have a Piglin army slaughter whomever remained. Seven only escaped with his life, befriending a Guardian named Marvin, who became his best friend (RIP Marvin, we miss you <3). The Guardian helped Seven grow stronger, and learn to fight. A few years later, he came across two children, Tex and Rox. Seven, taking sympathy for the two, took them as his own. As the revenge grew further from his mind, his children grew older. As they grew, he taught them what he knew about farming and combat. His kids grew older and left him, a crazy old man in a dirt hut with the guardian, forgetting the revenge he wished for many years.  On a normal day, Seven had witnessed something unforgivable happen. He had met Oxlo, Void, and Levi. After spending every waking moment together, the three ended up falling for each other, having adopted Levi and marrying the other two, Seven had have a happy life, with his 3 stolen adopted kids and poly relationship. (End Seven.)

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Character Origin 2, Levi:  Levi was born into captivity from a hybrid mother. By the time he could walk, he was taken from his mother, and raised like a solider. Levi had large, beautiful wings, that got removed as a child, leaving him scared and unsure of who he was all throughout his ‘childhood.’ Being he was a hybrid being, he was used on for testing, by horrid endermen. Having experiments done constantly, he had mutated a mouth (basically Venom from the movie Venom) that he had grown to hate. As Levi grew older, he became rebellious against the unfair people. He gained many cruel and inhumane (lol) punishments. During one of these ‘rebellious moments,’ he had expected to be caught. instead, he was left alone to do so. He heard a loud crash and began to investigate. He had walked outside to see 2 large entities trying to fight against the endermen, and winning. Levi took this as an opportunity to escape. He left the end before the two closed the portal to the end. He blacked out and woke up to a short, sandy blonde man and 2, really tall men, resembling endermen, staring at him. After many, many years of building trust and learning how to communicate, Levi became one of their family.  He Moved out many years later, only to return to his home town to find everything left barren and abandoned. (End Levi.)

Looks: Light blue, messy hair, dark blue eyes, scarf covering his mouth/nose, unhinged and slimy mouth, white and blue tshirt, black jeans  (you can tell this one is my, NoName’s, OC cause he is a lot more detailed LMAO)

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Character Origin 3, Tex:  Tex is 15-17, a strider hybrid. He comes from a Nether village called Riften, but now resides in Toadstool Field. He works as a dealer and supplier for the Midnight Mafia. He can easily build and mine, and is also good at navigating the Nether and finding gold (piglins wanted gold all the time so he grew accustomed to getting it) he's obsessive and goes into a blind rage near piglins, and gifts objects and builds often. Tex was a runt in his village, so when it was attacked by piglins when he was 6-8 he was left behind for a offering, after years of being with piglins he came to despise them. He escaped around 11-14. (He isn't good with remembering his age) He had multiple siblings, but cannot remember them very well. He assumes they are dead along with the rest of his village and now only is comfortable around Seven, Void and Levi Tex has pointed ears, and scars from water/staying with piglins. He has sharp teeth. He cannot see well, water is hurtful to him and his memory is bad but he can easily swim in lava/fire resistant. He is twitchy and quick, he has curious movements and is very touchy and talks quickly and mumbly. He wears a magenta sweater, black overalls, purple flowers scattered about and no shoes Tex wants to be renewed in his new family's eyes, he wishes not to be known as a runt he thinks everyone sees him lower bc of him being a runt. Tex doesn't understand human feelings/ striders don't have many emotions, his anger was very new to him he is scared of Piglins/hoglins and hates water

Looks: Messy, dark hair, pointed ears, black eyes, fangs, darker, loosing fitting clothes

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Character Origin 4, Amber:

So amber was born in a town called Fransin in the nether and lived there with her single mother, she was bullied a lot as a kid because she didn't have spare money for the nicest clothes or shoes she stayed there until about 15 when her mother had kicked her out because it's the same as her mother did when she was younger, she stumbled upon a portal and went through which lead into dark woods and after wandering around for a bit she came upon Toadstool Fields. She was a bit scared, but after meeting the town's folk she adjusted to the overworld, yes she had a few bumps along the way (especially when her friends suggested they go swimming, as she’s part blaze), but she has grown more and made more friends, plus they even let her build her own home! She has always been grateful because they've always helped her and given her everything she needs, especially since she grew up kinda rough

Looks: Light brown hair, Golden eyes, ash colored freckles, Bee striped shirts

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Character Origin 5, Rox: When Rox was young around 4, she was made as a science experiment, (hence the endwalk state that will eventually happen later) she was later sent out to the street after all of those tests (for over 3 years), that she hated so dearly, After about one week on her own in the world, she was soon adopted by seven. She was taught how to fight and defend herself. As she got older, he became smarter and was filled with anger from the past. (hence chaotic good and neutral evil yknow?) So yes, around 16, she married milly and has been with her for a year now, she is just trying help people with her bakery and fight people if necessary (Since she’s in the mafia clan thingy).

Looks: short, pink hair, glasses, blue eyes, dark clothes

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Character Origin 6, Void: Void was born in the end, to a noble Enderman, though they don't remember that. They don't remember their original name, or their parents, or anything about their life. All they know is that they're not welcome in the End anymore, being ostracized after a series of unfortunate events in the End. Their first interaction with the Overworld wound up in them in a village and slaughtering everyone in it due to someone making eye contact with them, shortly afterwards picking up the masks to avoid eye contact and avoid looking at the scars on their face. They fled the premises with their sister Redacted and hid deep into the woods, starting on making a mansion for themself and their sister, where they would be safe. They want to keep all those dear to them safe, bordering a bit on possessiveness with the protectiveness. They have a lot of secrets, and in general are an unknown entity to those around them. They're extremely morally ambiguous and run a mafia, with their pet as their right hand man. 

Extra: -Redacted is not Void's blood sister. -Void has worn their masks for so long they don't know what they look like. -Void only takes their mask off to threaten people. -They have such a love of birds because the first mob that didn't run away from them was a parrot. -They hate government because one tried to kidnap them once and study them as an Enderman, using water torture against them. Void escaped and killed a few people, grabbing two masks off the wall as they went to hide their identity.  -Void's eyes are different from fellow Enderman, and if you look into them it's an unpleasant experience for you both. -Void is a peaceful entity until provoked, just like Enderman. -Void has an immense hatred for sand. -Void likes gazing at the stars because it reminds them of gazing into the void in the End, which is where they got their name from. -Void has a dog named Spark because shortly after they found him they were struck by lightning, which they found hilarious.

Looks: Tall  (height unspecified), Dark, fancy clothing, Mask (smile, no he isn’t dream), dark, messy hair)

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Character Origin 7, Milly: Milly is a neko hybrid, she's part feline, part human. Her existence came to be when her mother, a neko, and her father, a human, fell in love. She grew up in a small town which wasn't very popular, she wasn't picked on but she did get pushed around by some people growing up. Despite bullies, she had a normal upbringing; her parents were nice and supportive, teaching her everything they could. Her mother often told her how horrible the world can be, teaching her how kindness is a must and how no matter what, she should always help people in need and keep up a smile if she could. Milly followed this advice the best she could. While her mother taught her things through talks, her father tried to teach her things physically: he told her how he agreed, how the world was horrible, so he taught her to fight- to defend herself and protect others with her fighting skills and feline abilities. Although Milly loved her parents and the friends she had, she grew adventurous when she turned the age of 15- she wanted to explore, to see and meet more than she has. Her parents respected her wishes since they loved her dearly, they gave her all the supplies and advice they could before they hugged her goodbye. It wasn't long after that she met Rox, an enderman hybrid who she grew to cherish being around. So, her and Rox got married at 16 and  She moved in with Rox, in the smp she loved living in for all her days. Hence where the story starts. 

Headcanons: -Milly has about five cats she keeps, she loves cats. -She likes to draw, collect flowers, bake sweets, and help out people. -She's a lawful good person and pacifist -She likes dogs but they don't like her :( -She has special feline characteristics: she can jump two blocks higher than a normal person, she can purr, she will take random naps sometimes during the day, she has fangs, and she gets distracted by cat toys sometimes

Looks:  Long pink hair, light pink eyes, collar (it has a bell), white shirt and a pink skirt

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Unmentioned Characters (ones without backstories): Sammy, Oxlo, Will

this took me an hour. JUST EDITING- (ó﹏ò｡)

#smp #mc #minecraft #we spent so long and for nothing- #ocs #oc #Toadstool Field SMP #TFSMP #this is going to take over my page istg

[yukichilovesbakugo]

Within Reach Special

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Bakugo's Birthday

Warnings: Cursing

Master list

A/n: Happy birthday, Bakugo. I'm really happy with how this turned out. Originally this wasn't going to be a part of the story, more of just a scenario, but now it's like a side story. Anyways, this takes place sometime after the USJ incident. I hope you enjoy.

Your class has just finished hero training for the day and school was over. You were one of the first ones done changed, so you sat in the relatively quiet classroom waiting.

"Y/n-chan!" Your eyes drifted to the green haired boy walking up to you. "I wanted to talk to you. Kacchan's birthday is in a few days and the class was thinking of getting together and celebrating after class that day." He was smiling and scratching the back of his head.

"Oh, that sounds fun, I guess. When is his birthday?" You propped your head against your hand, face mostly expressionless.

"Its on Monday the twentieth. Sato volunteer to make a cake, the only problem is that everyone is busy this weekend and can't get any decorations. Plus I hear a lot of stores are sold out of party supplies anyways. That's kinda weird, I wonder why?" The mouse folded his arms and held his hand to his chin.

"Its probably because of April twentieth."

"Kacchan's birthday?" His innocent eyes peered at you. A mental sigh escaped you.

"Nevermind. Anyways, I'm free on Saturday so I can make the supplies run. I have to go out anyhow. The old fart is dragging me to a charity party and I need a new dress. Plus, I need to get Bakugo a gift too." You started to mentally calculate how much money you would need.

"The class can all chip in and reimburse you for the supplies." The mouse added, relieving you a bit. Suddenly, the door slid open harshly, startling you. The ash blond stomp to his desk.

"Anyways," your eyes lingered on the blond for a moment before you looked at Midoriya, "I'll text you about it later." Bakugo quickly shot you guys a look.

"That sounds good, Y/n-chan. I'll talk to you later." The mouse retreated, feeling the glares of his childhood friend. Before you could even sigh, the explosive boy jumped in.

"What was that about?" He had grabbed his bag and stood in front of you. You stood aswell after grabbing your bag.

"Ah, well, I was telling him about how I have to go shopping this Saturday for a charity party." You weren't actually lying to him, technically. And with your face blank, it was hard to tell you had keep a little secret. The both of you had walked out of the classroom and were on your way home.

"Oh." He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down. That's when you got a good idea.

"Do you want to join me?"

"Huh? Why would I wanna do that?" His crimson eyes met yours briefly with his signature scowl.

"I dunno. Just thought it would be better than shopping alone." You shrugged at him. After a bit of silence, he answered you.

"What time do you want me to pick you up?" He half mumbled at you. A small smile appeared subtlety on your face.

"Well, I get done with my chores and seeing guest at 10 on weekends. I can meet you at the station at 10:30 if you want?" Bakugo glanced at you for a moment.

"I'll be at the shrine by 10 and we can leave together, idiot." You chuckled slightly at him, but agreed. Soon, your came to the turn that you guys always departed at. You both waved, then went on your way. Bakugo would deny it, but he was actually pretty excited for it. You aswell. In fact, you had a small smile when you arrived home. Even your grandpa noticed. When you arrived at you room, you sat your bag down and walked to your closet. After scanning it for a bit, you took out a cute, simple f/c blouse and a pair of short bluejean overalls. Feeling content, you took a shower and got ready for bed.

°•°•°•°

The next morning, you got up at 5 am like normal. After putting on your uniform, you got to work. Your duties included sweeping the entirety of the grounds and watering the pavement. This was undoubtedly the most time consuming of your chores. Next, you cleaned the inside of the main shrine. On weekends, you would assist your grandfather with consulting guest and that is were it took place. At around 7, you would take a break and make breakfast for the two of you. Of course, after eating, guess usual start to arrive. From then one, you would prepare tea and sit in on guidance talks. At around 10, you escorted the last guess out of the gates.

"Oi." A gruff voice sounded. You turned to see the ash blond who wore a plain black tshirt and some jeans. A small smile graced your lips.

"Goodmorning, Bakugo." You bowed. After standing up, your e/c eyes made contact with his ruby ones. "I just finished the last of my chores. I'll go get changed real quick then we can leave." Bakugo watched as you turned and shuffled away. He couldn't help but think you were pretty in your uniform. You looked so elegant and refined, yet still down to earth. Just as he thought that, you returned wearing something that made you look so cute. It was such an image shift, but he didn't hate it. You guys soon took of to the station. As you waited, he spoke.

"What exactly do you need to get today?" He shoved his hands in his pocket while you tilted your head in thought.

"Well, I need to get some party supplies and a dress. The old fart said it was more of a formal gathering so I have to get something more refined." A sigh escaped you. You glanced at him and thought about what gift you should get. Unfortunately, you were coming up blank. "Also, if you want, we can grab a bite to eat afterwards. It'll be my treat since I asked you to come."

"Don't be stupid, I can pay for myself." He grumbled at you.

"No, I insist. Please?" His eyes met yours and he felt weak. After pouting a bit, he agreed. You smiled at him. Soon, the train arrived and you both boarded. It was very busy and there was barely any room. The two of you ended up next to the door as it took off. You weren't really good with crowds, but you toughed it out. However, when the train jerked and a stranger bumped into you, you felt very uneasy. Bakugo must have noticed because he grabbed you by the shoulders and turned you so you were next to the doors. He shielded you. You smiled up at him and his heart skipped a beat. He quickly hide behind his bangs. When the train arrived at your stop, you guys hurried off.

"The train was pretty busy, huh? I wonder if it's like that all the time?" You hummed as the two of you walked the streets. Soon, you came to the first store on your list. It was the party store. As soon as you walked in, you could see the were under stocked. You couldn't find a single banner or even a party hat. Fortunately though, they had some streamers. After you grabbed a few in various colors, something caught your eye. It was a large stack of colored construction paper. After thinking about it for a bit, you grabbed it, aswell as some glue and tacks. With that over with, you guy went to the next store. This was the thing you dreaded about today. The dress. Although you liked dresses, you always had a hard time finding one that looked good on you. They either made you appear as a child or made you look like you were trying to hard. Bakugo stood by you as you browsed through the dresses. With each one you looked at, you got more frustrated, until.

"What about this one?" Bakugo held up a f/c, long sleeved dress. On the hanger, you could see that it would hug your waist and taper off.

"Huh, that's actually really pretty. I'm surprised you picked it out." You looked at him. His scowl quickly deepened.

"What's that suppose to mean!? I'll have you know I have great fucking taste, idiot." He was half yelling at you. After a small chuckle, you grabbed the dress and walked to the changing room.

"Whatever, blasty." You closed the door. You were quick to change and looked in the mirror. The dress hung off your shoulders and was actually quite flowy after the waist. It reached just below your mid thigh. It really looked good on you. After pausing for a second, you walked out. "What do you think?" He glanced over at you. The boy paused and took in your slender form. His heart was beating quickly in his chest as a small blush took over his face. Instead of answering, he nodded, to afraid he would say something stupid. You turned back into the small room and closed the door. You don't know why, but it made you really nervous to show him. Normally you had no problem wearing anything. Once you had changed back, you decided to get the dress. As you waited to pay, something else caught your eye. It was a little phone strap that had a grenade on it. You looked between it and the blond that was spacing out. You grabbed it and added it to your purchase. You guy walked out at the perfect time as your stomach decided to growl.

"Where do you want to eat, shorty." He started to eye every restaurant and cafe on the street.

"I don't know, what type of food do you like?" You looked up at him as he glanced at you.

"How about something spicy?"

"Oh, that sounds good." Your eyes wandered the street until you spotted something. "What about there?" You pointed to a small traditional Japanese restaurant. After you both agreed, you headed over. You guys were quickly seated and you looked at the menu. It didn't take long for you to decide on what to eat. When the waiter walked up, Bakugo spoke.

"I'll have the Tantanmen." He handed the waiter his menu and looked at you.

"I would like the Unadon please." You copied the boy and handed the waiter your menu. Once he left, you two began to converse.

"You like Unagi?" He leaned onto his arm.

"Yeah, my dad use to make it for me when I was little." You sighed in remembrance. "He wasn't really good at cooking, but I still enjoyed it."

"Yeah?" His eyes began to soften as he looked at you.

"That was a long time ago though. What about you? Do you like spicy food?"

"Yeah, it's pretty good. Though I think my mom makes it the best." You guys continued to talk even after your food arrived. It was nice. You smiled a lot and even got the blond to crack one. After you paid and you guys left, you walked down the now busier street. That was when you spotted a someone being pushed over. On instinct, you teleported over. A group of three boys had pushed over another boy. You stood in between them.

"Is something wrong?" You asked with your emotionless face. The three trouble makers all eyed you.

"Its nothing, sweetheart." The middle one spoke and reached out to touch your shoulder. You instantly smacked him away.

"Don't touch me." You glared up. They all started to laugh.

"Oh, aren't you a feisty one. Well if you want to but into our business so bad, you can join him." The middle one pushed you back and you landed on your butt. They all laughed again as you heard some popping nearby. Before you could even do anything, Bakugo stepped in between you and them. He had one of his nastiest glares on and his quirk was going.

"OI, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, FUCK FACE!!??" Blasty was more than mad, he was furious. You stood up and grabbed his shoulder.

"Bakugo, I'm okay, calm down." He grunted at you, still holding his glare at the boys. You looked at them. "You guys should leave now, unless you want a fight." The boys all looked at each other before deciding to retreat. They stomped and grumbled, but left regardless. You sighed and kneeled in front of the victim.

"Are you okay?" Your hand was held out for him to take. He nodded and grab it, standing up with you.

"Thank you so much! I'm so sorry about this." He bowed at you. You're face turned to one of relief.

"It's okay, I'm glad you're okay. If you get into trouble like that again, don't be afraid to yell for help. Someone will definitely be willing." You smiled softly as he nodded and left, then turned to Bakugo. "Thank you, by the way." He instantly started to grumble.

"Why didn't you dodge?" He crossed his arms.

"Well," you scratched the back of your head, "there was no need to."

"What!?"

"What I mean is if I moved, they could have easily gone for the boy again. Besides, they didn't pose and serious threat against me." You sighed. The blond was still mad, but he seemed to calm a bit.

"Whatever, just don't do it again." He grumbled as he started walking away. You joined him as you guys started to return home. It was really peaceful, and overall you had a good day. When you arrived at the steps to the shrine. You said your goodbyes to the ash blond.

"I had fun. Thank you for coming with me." You smiled. "I'll see you at school on Monday." Bakugo looked at you, eyes lingering a bit, before turning to leave.

"Yeah. Same, or whatever. Bye." With that, he left. You walked up to your house and entered. After settling in you started working with the paper in the living room. You cut out letters and started streaming them together. Once that was done, you started to make a party hat. After awhile, your grandpa walked in.

"What are you doing?" He looked at all the colored paper on the coffee table.

"I'm making party supplies."

"Oh, is it for a friend." He sat on the couch with his tea. You nodded and he smiled. He was happy, knowing you had grown out of your shell a little more.

°•°•°•°

It seemed like classes on Monday couldn't end sooner. You and Midoriya had talked some more and had a game plan. You were to distract Bakugo for a bit while the class put up the decorations and Sato grabbed the cake. You took the explosive boy and pretended to start walking home. When you reached to gate, you gasped.

"Oh, I'm sorry Bakugo. I think I forgot my notebook. Will you come with me back to the class?" He grumbled, but compiled anyways. You guys slowly made it back to your class where you opened the door for him.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BAKUGO!!!" The class yelled in unison as they huddled around Sato and the cake. Bakugo stood with his scowl, but secretly he was a bit happy. Everyone started joking around and laughing as each of them gave him a present. It was really a lively time. It wasn't long though till everyone started to clean up because they had to actually go home. When it all settled down, you and Bakugo started to head home for real. You smiled at him and spoke.

"Did you have fun?" You hummed.

"I guess." He grumbled, "I can't believe shitty deku told everyone about my birthday. Is that why you bought those party supplies? I thought they were for the charity thing."

"Nope, they were for you. I never said they were for the charity." You chuckled. You guys talked about the party and how ridiculous your friends were the whole way home. When it came to where you guys part, you stood and faced him. You felt a little nervous.

"I didn't get to give you this earlier, but happy birthday." You handed him a small bag that had 'Happy birthday' written on it. He quickly opened it and pulled out the phone charm you bought. He looked at the little grenade.

"Thanks." Although he had his scowl on, you could tell he was a little happy. After saying your goodbyes, you left.

Later that night Bakugo laid in his bed and held up the phone strap. He smiled ever so slightly as he got up and put it on his phone.

Tag list: @maisyyx @gayverlinq @loxbbg @whisperingwolfie

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[rockofeye]

Spiritual Colonialism and the Doctrine of Discovery

On the eve of the annual US celebration of the colonial occupation and settlement of Indigenous lands and the long-term, still-unfolding process of eradication of Indigenous cultures and nations, it’s important to think about how this came about, how the concepts of the Doctrine of Discovery have harmed Indigenous spiritual systems, how these concepts are still alive and well among spiritual seekers, and how to divest ourselves and our spiritual communities of this specific flavor of spiritual violence.

The Doctrine of Discovery was primarily established by the Roman Catholic Church in the 15th century, and was utilized as a means of conversion of discovered peoples in what European nation-states saw as unclaimed territories. As government structures in that time period and for quite awhile after that were very mixed with religious structures (the pope was considered equal to or above sitting monarchs), this bled from missionary activities to government-funded explorations of previously unknown territories. Cristoforo Colombo/Christopher Columbus is a good example of this; his funding coming from the Spanish crown, which in turn had sought the approval of the papal state. The Conquistadors (literally ‘conquerors’) were missioned out in the same way: sail for new land, claim it for the monarch, and convert and enslave anyone already living there. The Crusades were similar: claim/re-claim primarily the Holy Land/Jerusalem for the Church (and other territories later) from Muslim rule (interestingly, participation in the Crusades was considered as an indulgence of sorts--the Church promised remission of sins for going to slaughter Muslims).

As most of us know, all of these ‘undiscovered lands’ were already populated with complex societies that had all the trappings of European city-states: government structures, division of labor, technological pursuits, family structures and units, and, perhaps most important in the quest for land as funded by the Church, spiritual and religious beliefs and systems. All of these European invaders showed up to Indigenous nations and, by most early accounts, were welcomed warmly. In return, these invaders brought diseases that killed wide swaths of the established societies, used interpersonal and large-scale violence to control and conquer, and did what we know as colonialism: seized land, declared it belonging to someone else, and essentially did a pop-up of European culture on the spot. 

The thread that kept this alive in European culture and religion was the belief that these pre-existing cultures were inferior to European thought and belief. What was present was clearly not the same as European culture but instead of being able to use higher thinking skills and reason out that what is different is not inherently evil, colonizers under the direction of religious monarchs declared these differences as spiritually poisoned, demonic, and uncivilized. This brought forth what quickly became an overculture of white supremacy that declared all non-European influenced thought as in need of conversion and erased differences in European cultures.

At the same time, missionaries had been spreading into the Kongo basin region of Africa. Christianity had been present in northern Africa essentially since the very beginning; many early figures in Christian history were recorded as being from Africa, three early popes were recorded as being Black, and the first recorded established Christian monastic community dates to the early 1100s in modern day Algeria. But, in the 1400s, the Portuguese arrived and spread inward. Many accounts from the Kongo region talk about Catholic beliefs being folded into Indigenous beliefs without real issue (and this is reflected in a lot of Kongo art from that period) and a significant number of folks from the Kongo region were already aware of Catholicism--and in some cases willingly converted--before the Middle Passage and Age of Enslavement began. 

But as the Age of Discovery waned, the Doctrine of Discovery did not. Instead, it has continued to play out in interactions between religious bodies and Indigenous communities as well as government entities and Indigenous communities. It is almost 2020 and the Roman Catholic Church has still not done with with the Doctrine of Discovery, as published and supported in many papal bulls/documents issued by a pope re: official Church policy and belief.

In the US, we see this in the continual denial of basic rights to Indigenous individuals and nations. Treaties are still not honored, the sitting government still gets to decide who is an ‘Indian’ and who is not, blood quantum has been enforced by government entities and trickled to nation governments, and individuals and groups continue to suffer at the hands of colonialist rule. To even determine if you can be called a Native American, you must consult the Dawes Rolls/Final Rolls, which was essentially a census of individuals associated with five recognized Indigenous nations in the US, to determine if an ancestor of yours was named there. Given that there are currently 573 recognized tribal groups and nations in the US, the problem with this is obvious...and that does not even take into account the number of tribes and nations who cannot receive federal recognition due to low membership, blood quantum debates, or lack of financial resources to fight the colonialist government. Indigenous government services are some of the lowest funded services in the US, and the statistics of poverty, hunger, murdered and missing Indigenous woman, and substance use among Indigenous individuals is staggering...all of which can be related to lack of funding and support.

This doesn’t even account for the historic--and present--reality of ‘Indian schools’ in the US and Canada that were essentially re-education camps aimed at stripping Indigenous children of their cultural identity and family, and indoctrinating them with Catholic beliefs. There’s a lot of blood of a lot of hands about that, and it is shameful that the Church has not taken an official stance of removing the doctrines that support these crimes against humanity.

In Haiti, the Doctrine of Discovery has taken an interesting and insidious new turn. The Catholic Church is very present, but in a lot of ways has become somewhat socially neutered..there are a lot of services provided by Catholic orgs that DEFINITELY express some of the racist ‘noble savage’ arguments and engage in a lot of voluntourism, but the real problem is the Protestants.

In the last 10-15 years, the presence Protestant missions and missionaries have exploded in Haiti. Almost to a fault, they incite social and cultural violence towards practitioners of the Indigenous religion of Haiti (Haitian Vodou), and they utilize American-derived prosperity gospel ideals twisted to really disgusting ends: convert and we will give you food. In a nation where food insecurity and malnutrition are literally life and death issues, this is an outright abuse of essential human rights. Religious gatekeeping of what people need to survive is beyond words (this also plays out in the US via orgs like the Salvation Army).

One of the most painful things I have ever watched was a Haitian megachurch pastor in Port-au-Prince promising abundance if only people would denounce their Vodou practice and be exorcised of their ‘demons’. The footage of this aired on CNN, and what CNN didn’t know was what was being said by the woman being exorcised was not speaking in tongues, but a spirit who had mounted the head of the sèvitè begging not to be sent away and for this to be stopped. This particular megachurch is backed by American missionaries, and their Haitian partner-pastors know exactly what they are doing.

Protestants can’t stop at that sort of stuff, though...they engage in outright violence as well. I have heard first hand accounts from family members of being assaulted on their way home from ceremonies because they were wearing white clothes (standard dress for most ceremonies), and Protestants show up to LOUDLY protest ceremonies often with cars that have large speakers hooked up to broadcast music and messages of damnation/redemption. I’ve seen and heard that myself, with Protestants standing outside my mother’s compound during my initiation and other ceremonies and confronting house members about their presence there. They desecrate sacred spaces and are generally awful.

This has American roots in that this style of Protestant religion and engagement directly grows from the hellfire and damnation style of Southern US conservative Protestantism. It’s a not-so-subtle insertion of white supremacy couched as religious belief.

In all of this, the Doctrine of Discovery lives and thrives and gains ground; the work of Protestants on the island--both American-influenced Haitian groups and awful American voluntourists in matching tshirts that I see EVERY SINGLE TIME I fly to or from Haiti--is to repress culture, convert people, and grow a militant power base.

But, the current iterations of the Doctrine of Discovery and how they interact with Indigenous religions is not limited to actual in-person missionary encounters. The internet has made this particularly insidious via the ease of access to some information about the religions. Many people discover that Vodou (and other Traditional or Diasporic religions) is actually a real-deal non-tourist thing on the internet, which is not in and of itself a bad thing.

It becomes bad when it starts getting scooped up out of context and re-packaged to fit other agendas. What does this look like? Sometimes it’s neo-pagans trying to cast the lwa as cartoonish, toothless figures who are only present to bring us thing and do our bidding--all of these ‘Ezili Freda amulets’ and ‘Ogou elekes’ and Legba-as-a-candy-swilling-devil things and backyard pup-tent ‘kanzos’. Sometimes it is stripping Haitian Vodou of it’s inherent Haitian-ness and repackaging it in a pan-Africanist light, where Hathor is Ezili Freda is Oshun is Mama Chola and it all descends from thoughts and feelings about what ancient Egyptian culture was. Sometimes it is trying to drag the lwa into hoodoo, rootwork, and conjure as beings who can be sent out to do work with no license to ask for that, no ceremony, and no understanding of the dynamics of the religion. Sometimes it is the ascertain that Vodou is really just about what you think or feel connected to, not a continuous line of historical, lineaged practice. Sometimes it is the idea that elders are irrelevant and someone can improve upon what they are taught or do it in a way that they feel is more authentic. Sometimes it is casting the lwa as vegetarian/vegan because animal sacrifice doesn’t feel marketable. Sometimes it is treating the religion as a treasure chest that can be mined--pay what is conceived of as an ‘entrance fee’ and then collect all the information that is thought to be important while ignoring what the religion actually is.

The internet has created this brand of self-appointed experts who use their own discovery of Indigenous practice as a means to feel or present themselves as some sort of spooky without actually bothering to speak to the people who carry the culture and religion. This isn’t dependent on skin tone or background, and it isn’t dependent on initiation or not; plenty of non-white folks do this and plenty of folks who initiate into the religion use it like a vending machine and point at their initiation as a reason why they can do that or as a way to say that what they are doing is without fault. 

It all relates back to the Doctrine of Discovery as an assertion of ‘we know better’. It’s become more insidious because it can be couched in language and images that look right to folks who may not know how to look at the religion, but it’s still the same old thing. 

So, what to do?

There’s no real easy solution to spiritual colonialism because there is no one prevailing Indigenous religion anywhere with one central governing body. It’s not as simple as ‘don’t provide access’ and ‘don’t document’ because that is contrary to what the lwa of Haitian Vodou have largely expressed that they want, and it’s not as direct as going toe-to-toe with folks we feel are being exploitative because, frankly, it would be an unending battle and practitioners have too much stuff to do as it is.

There are ways to engage and explore our own internal biases and colonial attitudes, though, and steps to take if we have begun a process of determining whether an Indigenous religious community might welcome us or if we are simply interested in knowing more:

Do the homework. Research and reflect. While Indigenous practices do not live in books, books can be useful for gaining historical understanding and cultural context for folks who did not grow up in the Indigenous practice they are in contact with or want to learn more about. Compare and contrast what you are reading and push at the differences--why does this author say that? What is their source material? What is the general opinion of their source material? Who are their informants? What is their personal history, if any, with the religion? Read the bibliography, and go find those sources. The Columbusing of Indigenous religions and fraudulent folks bank on the idea that people are uneducated and won’t look further. Read critically. Question influences.

Ask questions. Find elders and culture bearers of the religion and ask if they might have a little time to chat with you about their experiences and practice of their religion. Many, MANY elders and practitioners are quite happy to share what their religion means to them with a respectful party. Be prepared to compensate them for their time and energy.

Ask questions, again. If folks are presenting themselves as knowledgeable or are presenting things about the religion that seem somewhat out of touch (see Do the homework), ask them where they learned these things and who their elders or authorities are. These should not be hard questions to answer, nor should anyone tapdance around them.

Learn the language. If a religion has a written body of knowledge, it will likely be in the cultural or liturgical religion which, if you are allowed to access that body of knowledge, you will need to learn. Many Indigenous religions are passed orally, and so the language is a must as many important things are lost in translation. With Vodou, when folks claim there is no good written information about the religion this inevitably points to them only looking for information in English, as there is an IMMENSE body of solid work in Kreyòl ayisyen, French, and, surprisingly, German. If you are welcomed to participate somewhere, learning the language is a must. For instance, in Vodou, all services are conducted in Kreyòl with bits of French, and it is a mark of respect to work towards fluency and it is necessary if one wants or needs to travel to Haiti for ceremony.

Support the communities. Spend your money with Indigenous groups or orgs...make donations that support communities and buy products and services from legitimate practitioners. If there are public events and/or political movements by Indigenous religious groups, attend them and/or boost the visibility of them. Ask how you can help (and be prepared to be told you cannot without getting offended) and listen/observe what is being said and taught.

Decentralize experience. Personal experience IS central to religion and spiritual practice, but when folks are being invited to ceremony or into an Indigenous practice, it is not just about our experience...there is an entire community that is drawn together and has it’s own means. methods, and reality. We can center the community without losing our own experience, and that’s good practice towards undoing to colonial influence that places Self at center stage at the expense of the broader Us.

These are places to start, but the whole of the work will unfold as steps are taken forward. It is the labor of outsiders to do this, versus expecting the insiders of the Indigenous practice to carry the burden of unpacking bias along the lines of the Doctrine of Discovery. Rejecting colonial actions and filters means doing the heavy lifting, which everyone is capable of if we remain willing to engage in this way.

On the day of celebration of colonialism and destruction of Indigenous communities, I challenge folks to explore their own internalized colonialism towards the othered Indigenous communities of our local areas. What are our attitudes towards Indigenous communities? What do we think about and feel when we see commentary that tells the truth about what Thanksgiving is? How do we engage with the idea that our current lives are built on the colonization of lands and communities that were already established before we got here? How do we engage with the idea that we continue to benefit from colonialism as non-Indigenous individuals living in settler states? What definitive actions can we take to contribute to reparitive attitudes and actions that recognize the reality of colonialism in our current societies?

Writing from illegally occupied Massa-adchu-es-et land, and bearing benefits from illegally occupied Nipmuck lands and un-ceded Taino territory, I wish you a thoughtful and reflective Day of Mourning and research-driven National Native American Day.

#vodou #haitian vodou #vodou culture #thanksgiving #day of mourning #doctrine of discovery #Catholic

[writingismyhappytime]

I'm thankful for friends, making new friends, meeting the band in two weeks, and road trips ❤️ hope this works in a magical way as a fic

You squeeze your arms around Chris, a warm, fuzzy feeling settling over your shoulders as you look around the home you’ve made together. It’s perfectly decorated for the holidays, much to his dismay, but it’s important to you to get into the spirit. You want to wake up every day to the smell of gingerbread candles or pumpkin spice, shove your feet into warm slippers and walk into a livingroom prepared for Christmas despite Halloween was two days ago.

“This is going to be such a good year,” you say excitedly, pleased at the Christmas tree looming in the corner of the room, decorated in reds and golds on one side, blacks and silvers on the other --- neither of you could agree on the colors, so you compromised.

Honestly? You kind of like it, it shows both of your personalities, both of your tastes.

“You’re not going to try to get out of meeting my parents this time, right?” You ask after a moment, twitching your eyes up at the tall black-haired man beside you who was looking at his phone rather than at the decorations you’ve been laboring over for days.

“Last time was an accident,” he mumbles defensively; it’s not his fault that there was an emergency band meeting about the album that he sort of planned as a way to get out of meeting your very country-bumpkin parents for the first time. He just knows they’re not going to like him, and you’ve only been dating a year! Isn’t it a little fast to meet the family just yet?

Sure, you might be living together, you have for the last six months, but that’s different! Sure, you might also be in one of his music videos, and on one of his bank accounts just in case there’s an emergency, but --- well, those things had all seemed natural to happen at the time! No rush, no force, not like this whole parents thing.

It makes him uncomfortable.

He’s an adult, technically old enough to be a parent himself now, but that doesn’t make the impending situation any less doom-filled. Maybe he can say one of the band broke their leg and he has to go to the hospital, and make one of them limp around for six months in a cast when you’re around. That seems like a more logical thing to do, actually, maybe Ricky would ---.

“Chris.”

“Yeah?”

“Stop plotting for a way out of this,” you wag your finger firmly at him as you step away, gathering errant tinsel decorating his black livingroom suite. “You can’t bail on me this time, I won’t allow it. I don’t care if someone is dying, you’re meeting my folks.”

Folks.

“Ugh.”

“Do I have too?” He grumbles unhappily, sitting down heavily in the armchair, grimacing as he realizes he’s squishing Rudolph. He’s not near as into the holiday spirit as you are, and it sort of irks him to come home and see all this nonsense hanging around, but you were just so excited to decorate he couldn’t exactly tell you no. He frowns down at the reindeer he holds in his tattooed hands, the bright red nose he has the sudden urge to rip off.

“They’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time, Chris, so yes! We’ve been together over a year now!’

Not quite a year, Chris thinks. He tosses Rudolph away from him, not caring where he lands as he looks at you. “Yes, but we don’t want to rush anything. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind giving us more time before they meet me.”

“Are you afraid of my parents?” You frown at him, garland hanging from your neck as you try to gather your holiday supplies. You have some glitter on you from who knows what, some ornaments are hanging off your fingers by their delicate strings, and under one arm is apparently sticks you can buy to apparently stuff the tree and make it look fuller? He’d never heard of such a thing before. “Is big bad frontman of a metal band afraid of meeting two old people? My mom crochets and my dad runs the local bingo, they’re not exactly feral.”

You look... amused.

Chris face sours. “I am not afraid of meeting them! I just --- well, I don’t know. It just seems soon. Why don’t we wait another year?”

“Why? Do you plan on breaking up with me sometime next year?” You quirk a brow at him curiously, slowly putting your ornaments away. “Is that why you don’t want to meet them?”

“No.” Chris squirms.

“They’re just people, Chris, you meet new ones every day! There’s nothing different and nothing to be worried about,” you sound exasperated, struggling too get the tinsel off of you and into the designated box.

“But it’s different,” he replies, getting to his feet to help you. He lifts the tinsel off of you, tossing it into the box already overflowing with decor. "It's your people."

"They're going to like you," you say, brushing at your ugly, obnoxious cat sweater. He swears you've pulled out a box that has a sweater for every single day until the holiday, and now you're talking about making him wear some! He does have a reputation to uphold! Although, it would be a funny card to send out, both of you wearing horrid looking sweaters.

Actually, that would be cute, he's not quite so opposed now.

"Are you sure they're not going to think I'm the devil luring their little girl to the dark side?"

You roll your eyes. "No. If anything, I think I'm more devious than you are, you just look the part. Don't let my cat sweater fool you, Mr. Cerulli, I'm quite the devil myself."

"Oh really? Chris chuckles, feeling your arms curling tightly around his waist again as you snuggle into him. He holds you, giving you a light squeeze as he presses his lips into your hair.

Yeah, still doesn't want to meet your parents.

Still will try to find a way out of it.

Just won't mention that detail to you.

"Oh, and when we sit down at Thanksgiving, we have this tradition of going around the table saying what we're thankful for because we really are that basic, but you're going to have to play long. Say something cheesy, my mom will love that," you say, your voice muffled by his shirt. "It doesn't matter if you really mean it or not, but that'll make them like you more. Which I also don't think you have anything to worry about. My mom keeps telling everyone she slept with a member of Motley Crue back in the day, so I don't know how true that is or not, but be prepared for that story since she knows you're in a band."

Chris chuckles, his lips curving. "Sleeping with the band runs in the family, huh?"

"You could say that." You reply, shrugging your shoulders. You nudge him until he's taking a few steps back, falling back into the armchair still warm from his occupation earlier. You sit down in his lap, curling your cold toes against his leg as you snuggle into him, his warm arms keeping you against him. "Do you want to practice what you're thankful for?"

"Not really."

"Oh, come on," you shuffle a little, letting your head rest against his black-clad shoulder. "Humor me."

Hmph.

"I'm thankful for --- you being my girlfriend. Baking lots of cookies, making it smell girly as fuck in here at all times." Chris glances dubiously at all the lit candles.

"Well, there's a start," you bite your lower lip, cheeks pinkening. He started off so well.

"I'm thankful for --- all that we have together," you say after a moment. "Our apartment, the things we do together."

Oh, are you going back and forth now? Crap, what else can he be thankful for?

"Uhh --- I'm thankful for... um... I don't know." he grimaces. This is a lot harder than expected. What is he thankful for? He tries to think, but his mind is just completely blank.

"Well, I'll go again. I'm thankful for friends, making new friends," you chew your lip thoughtfully. "Meeting the band in two weeks." You haven't met any of them, not because you don't want too, your life is just busy and they're his work buddies, you don't think it's important to meet them until he wants you too --- turns out now he does, which made you so happy to know he wants you more involved in his life! "And road trips."

"Road trips?"

"Yep. We're taking one next year, remember? You might have got to see all fifty states, but I'm still lacking seven of them! I need to finish my tshirt collection."

Oh god.

Chris forgot about that.

"I can always buy you one when I go through the state."

"It's not the same! I want to see it for myself. You did promise me, remember?" You boop his nose lightly with your finger, amused when his pale cheeks turn bright pink. "I want us to go together for the experience. It'll be fun. You can take a week off work, and we can just spend it together."

Ahuh.

"Like... are we driving or flying?"

"Well, we can rent an RV, really spend some close time together," you say, pretending to be thoughtful and not ignore his horrified look. "You remember that movie with Robin Williams? It'll kind of be an adventure like that! It'll be fun!"

Absolutely not.

Chris has not sunk that low!

"Doesn't he get run over by the RV?"

"I'm sure you'll be fine, honey." you pat his shoulder reassuringly.

Chris sighs.

Sure he will.

"You know what else I'm thankful for?" You say after a moment, snuggled in his lap in your warm sweater, his arms keeping away the chill of the room. You love little, simple moments like this when it's just the two of you, when it's quiet and peaceful, all you're missing is the crackling of an open fire.

"What's that?"

"You." You press a soft kiss against his chin, smiling. "Putting up with me and my holiday obsession, letting me decorate this space and tease you about RV's but going along with it anyway. I love you, and you're important to me, I'm so thankful that I met you and that we've been able to spend all this time together."

Chris blinks, his cheeks a nice rosy hue as he absorbs your words.

"How am I supposed to top that?" He mumbles, and you smile warmly at him, snuggling close again.

"You're not supposed too, so long as you feel the same."

His arms around you tighten. "I definitely feel the same."

He gives it a moment, then, "But were you serious about the RV thing? Because we can seriously just fly to whatever state you want to start in and rent a car or something."

"Well, I'll guess we'll find out next year when we start planning for our trip, won't we?" You say lightly, drawing circles with your fingertips along the lines of his dark shirt. "After you meet my parents."

He frowns.

Why do you have to keep reminding him about that?

[sapphiclecterarchive]

the babysitter - fic

Fandom: MCU, Spiderman

Character(s): Peter Parker

Desc.: In which Peter is trusted with a child.

A/N: i’ve never posted any fics on tumblr so i thought i’d give it a shot! this will also be on my ao3 if you fancy sending it some love over there. SORRY if this is indecipherable, it was written in 3 days in amongst a mad panic to finish art coursework

WARNING FOR ENDGAME SPOILERS. SO MANY SPOILERS. OH MY GOD THERE ARE SO MANY SPOILERS IN THIS

Peter really isn’t expecting the call.

May is working a late night at the shelter, which she’d explained with a concise note left in the middle of the kitchen counter, underneath a twenty dollar bill for takeout. The takeout guy is the only person he’s expecting to encounter this evening, besides the Instagram group chat which buzzes every two minutes and John Mulaney on Netflix. That’s until his phone rings.

The number isn’t saved on his phone, so he almost doesn’t answer it. It’s only when he realises that it could be May calling in an emergency, or Ned or MJ or anyone else, that anxiety forces him to pick the phone up. The line between his Spidey senses and generalised anxiety disorder is a thin one that he treads very carefully.

“Hello?”

The woman on the other end of the line sighs in relief, “Peter, thank God you picked up.”

He recognises her voice instantly - from the news, from the battle, from the funeral. He scrambles to find the remote and pause the TV.

“Mrs Potts? Why are you — what is — uh — how are you?”

They haven’t spoken since the wake, when she’d hugged him and let him cry into her shoulder. His heart seizes at the memory of her calm composure, supporting a boy she barely knew while he fell apart over the death of the man she loved.

“I’m doing alright, thank you,” she answers. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Okay.”

“Would you be able to babysit Morgan for a few hours?” Peter’s hand freezes on it’s way to the bag of Cheetos next to him on the couch. “I wouldn’t normally ask with such little notice, but I have to do some stuff for the Foundation launch, and our regular sitter fell through.”

“That’s no problem at all,” Peter says, without even thinking about it. “I didn’t have plans, anyway.”

Pepper exhales with relief, “That’s amazing. I’ve sent Happy to pick you up, he should be there soon. Thank you so much, this is such a big help.”

As soon as he places his phone down, Peter realises that he knows absolutely nothing about taking care of a kid, and that he’s currently in nothing but ratty sweatpants and an old sports jersey.

He practically launches himself over the back of the couch, abandoning his show and his takeout to race into his bedroom. His pyjamas are replaced with black jeans and a thick wool sweater over a tshirt, and he just manages to comb through his hair and spray himself with deodorant before his phone chimes from the couch and he races to check it.

Unknown Number: Outside. – Happy

He texts May to let her know where he’s going while he bounds down the stairs. Sure enough, Happy is waiting on the sidewalk, leaning up against a black car.

To Peter’s surprise, Happy ignores his offered handshake and instead pulls him in for a hug. The embrace lasts a long few seconds before Happy pulls back, his hand lingering on Peter’s shoulder. “How you holding up, kid?”

“Okay,” Peter says. Happy opens the passenger side door for Peter and rounds the car to get in behind the wheel. The doors slam, and Peter talks over the starting of the engine. “School’s getting intense, and — uh — everyone’s getting excited for prom. But, uh… Yeah, that’s sort of it.”

Happy glances at him out of the corner of his eye as he pulls the car out into the road. “Prom, huh? You got your eye on anyone? Planning a…. what do you call it? A promposal?”

Peter thinks about MJ, about Ned, about Betty, about the guy in his physics class who always lets him share his textbook when Peter forgets… “I haven’t really thought about it, uh, with everything going on.”

“I getcha, kid.” They come to a slow stop at a red light. “These past months have been pretty intense… I haven’t really known what to do with myself, to be honest.”

His voice has grown quiet, and the last word of the sentence almost dies completely. Peter looks over at him as he scrubs a hand over his face. Is he crying?

Happy is covering his face with one of his hands, now, shoulders shaking minutely. Peter has no idea what to do. What are you supposed to do when your dead mentor’s assistant who hated you not that long ago is suddenly crying in front of you?

“Uh… Happy?” He gets no reply. “Happy?”

“Yeah, kid?” Happy looks up at him, his eyes tear-filled and puffy but a supportive smile on his face all the same.

“The light’s green.”

As if on cue, the car behind them beeps it’s horn, spurring Happy into moving the car forward.

Pepper Potts is waiting for them when they arrive at the house. It looks no different to how it did at the funeral, and it upsets him a little to look at the front porch and the small dock where they’d stood to say their final goodbye. She gives him a very brief tour of the house, and an explanation of Morgan’s bedtime routine. Apparently, she has already had her bath and her dinner, so the only thing Peter has to do is put her to bed by eight.

“There’s enough food in the refrigerator and the pantry for you to make yourself something to eat, feel free to watch whatever you want on the TV, and I should be home by eleven, but if you’re tired by then you’re welcome to sleep in the guest room.” She pauses, taps her fingertips together as if checking off a list, and then drops her hands and smiles warmly at him. “I really can’t thank you enough for doing this.”

How could he have said no? He understands more than anyone what grief feels like, and if the obvious exhaustion underlying her composed expression is anything to go by, being suddenly thrust into single parenthood has taken its toll on her. He remembers May wearing the same expression after his Uncle Ben died, and he knows now how much she’d needed an extra pair of hands.

“It’s really no problem, Mrs Potts.”

Her petite hand brushes his elbow, “Please, call me Pepper.”

She then crouches down to say goodbye to Morgan, and he politely looks away, for some reason he feels like that moment deserves privacy.

“You’ve got my number, so if there’s anything you need you can either call me or Happy, okay?” she assures him.

“Okay, Mrs — Pepper.”

She smiles, nods, and gives Morgan one last kiss on the cheek before leaving.

“We’ve got about forty minutes to kill before bedtime.” He looks down at the young girl. “What do you want to do?”

“Cartoons!” she exclaims, a gleeful grin on her pudgy face.

“Cartoons?” He turns toward the couch, expecting her to follow him. She grabs three of his fingers with her small hand and walks ahead of him, as if guiding him to the couch. He doesn’t have to wonder where she gets that from.

“Cartoons,” she clarifies, jumping up onto the couch with a huff.

He sits next to her and picks up the remote to start looking for the kids’ channels. “What’s your favorite cartoon?”

“Spongebob!” she says around her thumb.

It takes him all of five minutes to scroll through the entire TV guide and finally assess that there isn’t one channel currently playing an episode of Spongebob. Or any cartoons, it seems. He’s about to give up, when she holds out her hand.

“Remote.” The ‘R’ is more of a ‘W’, and she makes a grabby hand toward the remote until he passes it to her.

“There are no channels playing cartoons…” he begins to explain, bracing himself for a five-year-old temper tantrum. Instead of screaming or crying, however, he’s greeted with the familiar opening note of the Spongebob theme tune.

When he looks at her, she’s looking back at him with a cheeky grin. “How did you figure that out?”

“Mummy got it on the TV for me.” Her speech is pretty advanced for a five year old, but it’s obvious how hard she’s working to get her words right. “She said so I can watch it when I’m sad.”

His eyebrows knit together, and he fears sounding like a counsellor - or a parent - but he can’t help but ask, “Are you sad a lot?”

She shrugs, jams her thumb in her mouth and talks around it, “I watch Spongebob a lot.”

He ends up watching her more than he watches the cartoon, mesmerised by her starry-eyed expression as she watches the bright colours flash across the screen. They reflect in her big brown eyes, which he knows that she inherited from her dad. She also inherited her stubbornness, apparently, because even when her eyelids begin to droop and she can hardly sit upright for sleepiness, she doesn’t give in. She refuses to doze off until the end credits of the episode are rolling, and then she almost instantly collapses, snoring lightly, onto the couch cushions.

Careful not to wake her, he slips his arms underneath her armpits and lifts her. Her arms and legs wrap around him sleepily, making it much easier for him to carry her upstairs without fear of dropping her. He pushes the door open with the heel of his shoe, uses his right hand to continue supporting Morgan’s weight while his left pulls back the covers on her small bed. Once he’s placed her down and tucked the blanket up to her chin, he follows Pepper’s instructions of shutting the blind, turning on the nightlight next to her bed, and leaving the door slightly ajar when he eventually steps back out into the hall.

The TV is still displaying the paused credits of Spongebob when he sits back down on the couch. He wants to go onto Netflix and carry on with what he was watching earlier, but he feels like it might be a bit of an intrusion to use Pepper’s personal Netflix account, so he settles on a channel that seems to be only playing reruns of Family Guy.

His phone buzzes, and he glances at where it sits next to him on the couch.

Ned: Deathmatch?

Peter can’t help his smile. After Thanos, and everything else that’s followed, the simple things like playing Overwatch with Ned - even if he loses every time - make him so much happier than they would have before.

Peter: can’t tonight, am babysitting.

The next message from Ned comes through almost immediately.

Ned: Who tf trusted U with their kid?

Peter: ikr

Peter: pepper needed an extra hand w morgan

Ned doesn’t reply, so he assumes that the match has started and settles down onto the plush couch cushions. He scrolls through his Instagram feed, through photos posted by people from school and the odd celebrity. Until, eventually, he dozes off with his phone still in his hand.

A loud bang makes him start awake what feels like five minutes later. His phone slips out of his hand and onto the floor, the bang it creates making him startle again. He sits up blearily and stretches until his back pops. Through the windows, he can see nothing but black. His phone screen, when he picks it up to check, tells him that it’s just past nine-thirty. He hadn’t planned to sleep at all, let alone for an hour and a half.

Everything in the house still seems intact, and it doesn’t seem like Pepper is home, so he assumes that the bang was caused by the dog door, or something similar. Nevertheless, a residual anxiety forces him to his feet. He rubs the sleep from his eyes as he trudges up the stairs toward Morgan’s room.

The door is still slightly ajar, and the light from the hallway illuminates a strip of her polka dot duvet cover. He pushes the door open more, expecting to see her still tucked up tight and fast asleep.

She isn’t in her bed.

Peter’s stomach flips.

“Morgan?” he calls, hoping that she’s just hidden somewhere and will pop out giggling.

She doesn’t. He flicks the light on.

“Morgan?” He rounds the bed to check the other side, which is also empty.

She’s not hiding underneath the bed or in the wardrobe, and he checks every single room upstairs for her. But, she’s not in Pepper’s room, the guest room or the bathroom.

“Morgan!” he calls again as he races down the stairs. The downstairs bathroom is also empty, and she isn’t in the living room or the kitchen.

As he races back into the living room, his eyes lock on the front door. He can’t remember locking it behind Pepper, and he’d been woken up with a loud slam…

He throws open the front door, looking out onto the lake and the front garden, until there’s a small cough to his right.

There she is, her small form curled up on the rocking chair, thumb in her mouth and eyelids heavy with

He softens his voice to try and mask his panic. “What are you doing out here?”

“I can’t sleep,” she explains quietly. Her body seems to betray her there, though, because she lets out a yawn almost immediately.

He really doesn’t know how to get a stubborn kid to go back to sleep. He thinks back to when he was a kid, and how May would convince him to go to bed.

“You can have milk and cookies if you come back inside.”

She shakes her head.

“Juice pops?”

He remembers seeing them in the freezer earlier, and he assumes that she’ll be moved by the offer. She isn’t, and shakes her head again.

“I want to talk to daddy,” she says.

Peter’s brain takes a second too long to reboot, because she rolls her eyes and continues like he’s missed a very obvious point. “Mummy says that daddy can hear me if I sit here and talk to him.”

This is the first time this whole evening that Peter realises how much she must miss her dad. For the past few weeks, he’s felt like he’s been on autopilot, like there’s a vital part of him missing. So he can hardly imagine how she feels; she probably doesn’t even understand that he’s never coming back.

He doesn’t remember when his parents died, but he remembers asking May about them. He remembers the frown that would tug on her mouth every time he did. He remembers how much that frown would confuse him. They’re in a better place, she would say, so why would she look so sad?

He understands the questions she probably has, he understands how overwhelmed she must feel, surrounded by sadness and falseness and feelings that she doesn’t yet understand. All she needs is some normality.

“I think daddy would want you to wear a jacket outside.”

She pouts indignantly and crosses her arms to let him know she isn’t going anywhere.

Knowing now that she isn’t being moved, he grabs the hem of his sweater and tugs it over his head. The hair on his arms immediately bristles against the cold, his t-shirt doing nothing to keep him warm.

He crouches in front of the chair so that he’s level with her, sweater held between them.

“This sweater belonged to my uncle Ben. He’s in the same place as your dad, but before he went, he gave me this sweater. Do you know what he told me when he gave it to me?” She shakes her head. “He told me that it would protect me against anything, and it can protect you, too.”

He remembers Ben passing it to him while they were queueing for the Haunted Mansion at Disney World. Peter had forced him and May to queue for almost two hours, only to get too scared and start sobbing as soon as they got closer to the ride. The sweater was supposed to be a mode of persuasion for a then nine year old Peter, but it’s his most treasured item, and memory.

After Ben had died, the only thing Peter wanted to keep was the sweater, and ever since, he has worn it whenever he needs extra comfort.

He’s been wearing it a lot recently.

“Anything?” Morgan repeats, eyes wide. “Even monsters?”

He laughs, “Even monsters. Do you want to put it on?”

She nods enthusiastically, and he silently praises himself for his quick thinking as he helps her pull it over her head. It’s too big for him, so it covers almost her whole body, and the sleeves are about twice the length of her arms. She looks a lot warmer and happier, though.

She reaches out to him, and he doesn’t understand what she wants until her hands pop out of the sleeves and open and close sporadically in a move which he reads as “pick me up”.

He picks her up around her waist, her arms wrapping around his neck, and then turns to sit on the chair. She shifts around until she’s sideways on his lap, facing the lake, her head cushioned on his shoulder and her hands pulled up under her chin. The sweater cocoons her like a swaddle.

“Can you tell me a story?”

He doesn’t know any stories for kids, unless the classic, Disney movie fairy tales count.

“Do you want a story about your dad?”

She nods, the movement clear against his shoulder.

“Okay.” He wills himself not to cry immediately at the memory of his mentor, not wanting to freak the kid out or undo the hard work Pepper has undoubtedly done on making this whole situation seem lighter for her. “When I met your dad, I’d just gone through a big change…”

He recites the story of Germany, and then, when she asks for another, the stories of the boat and of Titan. They’re shortened, censored, and the latter is missing the part where he turned to dust for five years, but they’re true. Calmed by the stories, and smiling at the talk of her dad, she eventually falls asleep soundly against his shoulder. He looks down at her serene face, and he hopes that she remembers the good things about Tony, he hopes that she’s dreaming about him. He hopes that she dreams about building pillow forts with him, about him carrying her on his hip while doing important research, about him tucking her into bed and kissing her forehead.

Pepper gets home not long after Peter has tucked her back into bed.

“Was she okay?” she asks in a whisper, although the house is definitely big enough to talk at full volume and not wake the sleeping girl.

“She was a dream.”

A small, relieved sigh stirs her fringe. “Good. I really can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s honestly fine,” he says. “I had fun.”

When he unlocks and pushes open the door of the apartment, May is in her pajamas on the couch, watching some reality TV show. She looks over the back of the couch when she hears the door close, and smiles. She seems tired, as she always does after working overtime, but she’s wearing her fluffy pink socks, which means that she’s happy.

“Good night?”

He sits next to her, slowly tipping sideways until his head lands on her bent knee. Her hand automatically goes to his hair, stroking the top of it like she used to when he was small and would sit on the floor between her knees while her and Ben watched TV. Then, she moves her hand to his upper arm, and her palm feels boiling hot against his skin. “You’re freezing.”

As she tugs the throw blanket over him and pulls him closer to her side, he realises that he didn’t take his sweater back.

#endgame spoilers #endgame fic #peter parker #morgan stark #peter parker and morgan stark #peter parker fic #mcu #mcu fic #may parker #bc i love her #i'll definitely write more ft these two soon bc i love these siblings #tom holland #tom holland gif #spiderman #pepper potts #happy hogan

[lucidpantone]

Chapter 1: Visitations

Someone recently asked the tag if Sander and Robbe stayed together forever. Here’s a fic giving you the answer. Thanks for the inspiration.

Read the rest on Ao3.

Autumn always brought along rich tones of vanilla, cinnamon and all-spice into Robbe’s landscape. Robbe loved the autumn colors, shades of sun-burnt orange, vermillion and chartreuse sprinkle across the leaves that littered the pavement on his route to work. Its like he could taste the change of seasons ahead but it also gave him cause for concern. A visitation session was surely on the horizon. Sander was like a rolex watch when it came to anything Bowie related. Robbe was sure that cat was the love of Sander’s life. He found Bowie abandoned on the streets of Antwerp as a kitten and saved him from certain death. Robbe can still recall the day he came through the door with something nuzzled inside his leather jacket.

“Sander, we can’t keep it.” Robbe retorted as Sander gently cradled the kitty against his chest rocking it back and forth. “We just got this apartment I don’t even know if were allowed pets. I’m slammed at university, your never here, and your always at work or at the studio”.

Robbe knew this discussion was pointless. Sander just kept pouting at all of Robbe’s logical reasoning, flashing his puppy dog eyes at him and holding up the tiny kitten to Robbe’s face as a defense. Robbe just rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in defeat.  

“Ugh… okay …. Fine. God I hate you sometimes Driesen.”

“Love you too” Sander replied, pressing a soft kiss on Robbe’s jawline with a victorious smile plastered across his face.

“So, what are we going to name it?” Robbe asked looking down at the tiny creature who was literally the size of Sander’s palm.

Sander frowned. He almost looked offended by Robbe’s question.

“Bowie, of course. I mean his all black with a white lightening bolt on his belly. He's obviously a Bowie.”

Robbe found Sander’s response endearing. So much so he didn’t have the heart to tell him that that white striped looked nothing like a lightning bolt but he went with it anyways.

“Bowie, it is.” Robbe said as he leaned into Sander’s chest to pet the tiny kitten. Sander immediately cautioning him before he even laid a hand on the cat.

“Go slow, his sensitive okay”. Robbe couldn’t help but smile at his boyfriend’s protective reflexes.

There it was. The text Robbe had been dreading since the animal clinic called him earlier in the week to confirm Bowie’s appointment.

Taking Bowie to the vet on Saturday. I should get to Brussels around 7 tonight. Does that work for you? - Sander

7 works. - Robbe

Robbe grunted and slid down his desk chair.

“What’s up with you?” Lia asked.

“Oh nothing” Robbe quickly perked up and sat up on his chair. He didn’t want to be caught sulking at work.

“Do you think you can have the club estimation ready for next Wednesday?” Lia asked.

Robbe was the youngest architect at his firm. So he always felt like he was slightly faking it or suffering from imposter syndrome. He had only just completed his certification and was lucky enough that the firm he apprenticed at for two years offered him a full time job upon graduation.

Lia was the second youngest she had graduated a year earlier. They spent a lot of time together dealing with all the young trendy clients who wanted to do renovations on shoestring budgets.

“What time is it?” Lia asked Robbe.

“Half past 5” Robbe shouted back.

“On a Friday” Lia scoffed. “Let’s get out of here. I need a drink after this week.”

Robbe nodded his head towards the door and both of them sprung up off their chairs collecting their paperwork and turning off their computers.

Robbe began to take off his shirt and tie exposing his black tshirt underneath. He hated his nine to five attire but the firm had a strict dress code policy. Shirt and trousers.

“I hate this tie” Robbe grunted loudly as he forcefully ripped it off himself.

“Well you wouldn’t have to wear it if you weren’t so damn cool” Lia teased him.

“Firstly Thibaut is over exaggerating they are not neck tattoos. You can barely see them.” Robbe dramatically threw his hands up.

“I mean you can totally see them…..what are they again?” Lia asked sarcastically.

“Shut up” Robbe started pushing Lia towards the door.

Grabbing his black jacket and man bag off the coat rack on the other side of the office practically skipping towards Lia who was leaning against the door frame waiting for Robbe to hurry up.

As he got to her she held her hand against his chest examining the three tiny icons placed directly at the bottom of his throat underneath his adams apple.

“A lightning bolt, a half moon and….”

Robbe finished her sentence for her “ The other half of a ying yang. The white half.”

“How hipster of you” Lia said curiously.

“I guess, or better yet the mistakes of a misspent youth.” Robbe smugly replied.

“Misspent youth???” Lia laughed out. “Robbe your only twenty five”.

Robbe rolled his eyes he felt like he was thirty five sometimes. “Almost twenty six for your information. Come on now, I need a beer” he grabbed onto Lia’s hand and started dragging her out the door.

“We aren’t going to Belgica?” Lia shouted back to him as they walked down the street.

“Why not?” Robbed asked confused.

“Because your too pretty for your own good Robbe and we spend half the night fighting off every gay boy in there trying to get your attention.”

“Stop it Lia.”

“It’s true Robbe. You got that whole rebel rebel graduated up skater boy vibe and that damn mop of hair. Your like a billboard for shampoo or something. Plus your single.”

Robbe was blushing. Lia was too sweet she always made him feel special in her own teasing way. She was like the big sister he never had.

“Ok you choose” Robbe surrender.

“Noir it is” Lia responded.

Robbe looked at his phone and checked the time 5:42.

Robbe liked Lia but he didn’t want her privy to his messy love life. She had already lived through Robbe and Lucas’s break up.

Did she really need to know anymore about him.

Robbe paused for a moment and thought fuck it.

Meet me at Bar Noir at 7. -Robbe

********************************************************************************

As Robbe reached over the sink to grab some paper towels he simultaneously ran his right hand through his hair and looked up into the mirror. His eyes inadvertently darted towards the text peeking out underneath the sleeve of his tshirt. He inhaled sharply vividly recalling the memory of his nineteen year self play fighting with Sander because he wanted to see it.

“Show me,I know you got another one” Sander walked around his boyfriend inspecting Robbe’s body contemplating which part of him to undress first. As he slowly began tugging at his hoodie a huge cheshire grin appeared across Robbe’s face.

“Got him” Sander thought. He finally managed to get Robbe’s hoodie off when he saw the cling film wrapped around Robbe’s right bicep. Sander grabbed Robbe’s right wrist turning it upwards to face him and lifting it slightly to uncover the text on Robbe’s inner arm. It was a simple three word phrase but it was “their” phrase and what Robbe repeated to Sander when things got overwhelming for him. In a slightly hushed voice Sander read the phrase out loud “minuut per minuut”.

Robbe broke out of his daze. Pulling himself out of the memory.

Robbe headed back out the bathroom into the boisterous Friday night afterwork bar crowd.

Another shot of whiskey? Lia shouted from the bar.

“No,no” Robbe was signaling to her. He wanted to make sure he was somewhat sober for his impending meet up with Sander. They hadn’t seen one another since Chernobyl at the beginning of the summer.

Robbe snaked through the crowd till he reached Lia at the bar. They stood shoulder to shoulder as she knocked back her shot and chased it down with some beer.

“You should know my ex is probably going to show up here any minute now”. Robbe swiftly mentioned.

“You and Lucas are talking again?” Lia said with optimism in her voice.

Robbe quickly broke eye contact and shook his head. It still stung to hear Lucas’s name. It had been a few months but everything was still a bit raw for him.

“No the other one.” Lia instantly scowled at Robbe’s omission.

Robbe jokingly tapped her shoulder with the back of his hand as they walked towards a bar table with their beers in hand “come on don’t do that… you don’t even know him”.

“I don't need to know him, I know his type.” Lia shouted over the crowd as she scooted herself onto a bar stool.

“Extremely good looking” Robbe acknowledged that as Lia counted Sander’s qualities off with her fingers.  

“Mysterious but in that deeply troubled kind of way” Lia formed a peace sign with her hands at her second observation.

“Mindblowing sex” Lia held three fingers up towards Robbe’s face now.

“Oh and let me guess” Lia leaned into Robbe’s face real closely. “He broke up with you?”

Robbe chuckled “You know me too well Lia”.

“No I don’t. Like I said I know the type” She stated as she chugged down more of her beer.

“Speak of the devil”. Robbe gestured towards the door.

Lia looked up wide eye. Robbe was used to this reaction. Years of seeing others getting enamored by Sander’s beauty.

His lunar white hair a relic of the past. Sander was a brunette now. His natural copper tone brown hair framed his perfectly chiseled face. A jawline for days.

“Oh now I get it. I would have chernobyl(d) with him too”. Lia said a little too enthusiastically never taking her eyes off Sander as he spotted Robbe and started walking over to them.

Lia broke her gaze and quickly looked up and down Robbe’s body. “So what is your dick made out of gold or something” Lia questioned Robbe.

Robbe scoffed. “What”

“I mean you obviously attract a type. Smoking hot with pretty eyes” leaning her body slightly towards Robbe and opening her hand up like she was begging for Robbe to tell her his secret.

Sander reached their table.

Lia let out a barely audible “God I wish my exes looked like yours” as she raised her glass of beer to her mouth.

“Hey” Sander said as he took off his leather jacket exposing his arms covered in intricate tattoos sliding onto the opposing bar stool across from Robbe. The table was one of those cylinder bar tops that had Robbe and Sander awkwardly rubbing shoulder to shoulder both looking strait on towards Lia.

Sander looked at Robbe for a second too long waiting for him to introduce him to his friend.

Robbe’s mind finally caught up with his manners.

“Lia this is Sander, Sander this is Lia. We work together.” Sander reached out to shake Lia‘s hand.

“Nice to meet you” Sander responded.

“We’re just going to finish up our drinks and then we can head out” Robbe explained to Sander.

“Yeah that's fine. Gives me time to roll” as he pulled out rolling paper out of his back pocket and placed it on the bar table.

“How was the driv...?” unbeknownst to Robbe, Lia abruptly cut him out of his own conversation. “You drove here?” she questioned Sander. Sander nodded. Her eager curiosity getting the best of her. “Where from?”

“Antwerp, I live there” Sander responded flaty. He could tell Robbe’s friend was a little curious about him. God knows what Robbe had told her about him.

“What are you doing in Brussels?” Lia questioned some more.

Sander attempting to look busy as he rolled a joint.

Sander hated people trying to figure him out. He was the private type didn't like to give strangers to many details about himself but this was Robbe’s friend so he had to play nice.

Sander rested his right forearm against the table as he sprinkle tobacco onto the rolling paper.

That’s when he noticed Robbe’s friend attentively examining the tattoo on his wrist.

“It's a constellations.” Sander responded in a curt tone.

“Yeah I know what it is” Lia explained. “I see it everyday. It's the same one Robbe has on his wrist right?”

Robbe’s eyes found Sander’s. Sander smirked back at him.

Robbe suddenly turning red at Lia’s discovery.

Sander finished rolling his joint licking it together. When he shifted his body towards Lia.

Robbe thought to himself “here we go”. He had seen this typical Sander performance before fueled with charm and bravato.

“Yeah it's one of mine” Sander shot a flirty smile at Lia as he stuck the joint behind his ear.

“I mean the design of course, not the person.” Sander winked making Lia giggle like a teenage girl.

Sander leaned straight into her personal space. Making her slightly pull back. Sander was making her nervous.

“If your interested I have a tattoo shop in Antwerp I could ink you sometime. You can get this exact tattoo or something personalized from me to you.”

Sander slowly pulled away from Lia’s orbit leaving her slightly flushed.

Robbe chuckled a little to loudly. Sander shot him a boyish grin in return. Well aware that Robbe knew what game he was playing.

Robbe found these exchanges very amusing. It took Sander a mere 5 minutes to get his coworker from denouncing him to having her completely giddy and wrapped around his little finger.

When Robbe was younger these interactions use to really bother him. Make him feel insecure like Sander could get anyone he wanted what was he doing with Robbe.

But now it was just amusing to Robbe. It solidified what Robbe already knew which was no one really knew the real Sander. What Lia was seeing now was Sander peacocking at his best.

Lia broke out of her spell as she fumbled through her words a little and stated. “I think I want something custom. It’d be weird if we all had identical tattoo’s?”

“Oh there not identical” Sander stated as he grabbed Robbe’s beer off the table and took a large gulp into his mouth. Robbe gawked at him unimpressed.

Can you spot the difference? Sander suddenly took a hold of Robbe’s hand and slammed both their forearms onto the table towards Lia direction.

Robbe’s coworker leaned in super closely to examine their forearms as their hands were clasped together.

It didn’t take long for Lia to uncover what made each tattoo unique. Each forearm had a perfectly placed red planet in the middle of it (maybe Mars) with an orbital belt surrounding it. There was a moon and stars and another distance planet in the background(maybe Saturn). There was one thing that looked out of place but also really beautiful. A large blossoming tree was growing out of the large center planet. There was also some cursive text placed horizontally on both Robbe and Sander’s wrist. Lia recited the text from left to right it started from Robbe wrist “All the way” and ended on Sander’s wrist “or no way”.

Lia's brow furrowed. As she looked at both males. “I don’t get it, what does it mean?”

Sander finally spoke up locking Robbe into his glare as the words slowly dripped out of his mouth. “All the way or no way”.

Robbe let go of Sander’s hand almost violently and spoke. It felt like he had kept quiet throughout Lia and Sander’s entire conversation. Like he just disappeared for a moment.

Robbe shot Lia a calculated smile.

“It doesn’t mean anything. Just something we use to say to one another when we were younger.”

Robbe began to get up and collect his jacket. Obviously implying that this little meetup was now over. It surprised Lia, Robbe was never this brash, almost rude. Lia was about to make some silly joke about ruining the night when Robbe sensed it and he did something he only ever did with clients. He gave Lia one of his stand down asshole smirks that halted anymore conversation. That let their clients know that negotiations were now over and this transaction had come to a close.

Lia scanned Sander’s face for some explanation. She saw a hint of reaction towards Robbe sudden harsh change in demeanor but it amused him. He seemed to like it.

Robbe finished putting his jacket on and soften again leaning into Lia to give her a kiss on the cheek and bid her good night. Flashing that calculated smile at her again.

He glanced back at Sander. He hadn’t moved.

“Get your jacket” Robbe demanded.

Sander began to get up and collect his things. Never breaking eye contact with Robbe a dark tonality hidden behind his eyes.

Lia was so confused. It’s like these two were speaking some unknown language only they understood but it was so strange. Lia knew Robbe but she rarely saw this side of him. It was slightly distance, spikey, but confident almost captivating. Its like this sweet, thoughtful and warm human morphed into someone else in front of her eyes but she couldn’t explain what he morphed into.

She wasn’t sure what she was looking at.

“Text me when you get home” Robbe whispered into her ear as he gave her one final kiss good night and walked towards the exit never looking back at Sander to check if he was coming with him.

Sander leaned in towards Lia giving her a kiss goodnight. Perfectly placing it a little too close to her mouth. It gave her butterflies she could almost taste him as he pulled back.

Lia's eyes followed him towards the door.

She sat there bewildered, puzzled, thinking to herself.

What was that? or better yet, who was that? and she wasn’t talking about Sander.

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #rosander #robbe x sander #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #wtfock fic #sobbe fic #rosander fic #wtfock robbe #wtfock sander

[euphorianyx]

My Killer My Saver ~1~

First Encounter

Pairing : JungKook & Reader/Ji ChangWook & Reader Genre : Psychological, Dark, Smut Summary : Even though JungKook seemed normal he was insane inside. As in a true psychopath. Already commited numerous murders, he now had is eyes on you. Not knowing who he really was, you were blindly walking towards his trap. What would he do if ChangWook found who JungKook was? Being together since childhood, you were important so you had to stay alive. Would he be able to save you no matter what? What if it all comes down to a choice you had to make? Would you choose to be alive or die?

Other Chapters

He smiled at you the same way again. The smile that has been shaking your heart every single time but you could not say anything to him. The way that white shirt covered his perfect body tightly and his perfectly pushed back hair made him look surreal.  At least he was here with you but you did not know if it was enough anymore. Though Chang Wook threw his arm around you casually.

“Ahhh I feel good today…”

The walk you shared till your Street was peaceful. The sky was clear and the night breeze felt good on your skin as you both sat on the bench.  You pointed at the sky which he followed.

“The nothern star…”

Chang Wook squinted his eyes for a short moment before he leaned back.

“It’s always the brightest…”

Like you, you thought but could not say it out loud. The silence was far from being uncomfortable. When you rubbed your hands on your arms Chang Wook noticed you were cold. He slowly left his grey jacket on your shoulders. The smell washed through you as if it was a torture. With that bright smile he checked the clock.

“Weren’t you supposed to go inside?”

You shook your head.

“Lets stay a little bit more.”

Chang Wook and you started to make random shapes connecting the stars. You did not even know how time passed by until he suddenly stood up. Saying,

“I am gone little one”

Chang Wook ruffled your hair. That was the one thing you hated to be called by him. Since you grew up together he kept you calling like that even though you became his coworker. He waved at you and walked towards his white dublex. After a deep long sigh you made your way towards your home across his. Lying down on your bed you hugged the jacket he left with you. Dreaming of him through the night you woke up early in the morning.

It was another work day so you got ready. With your mini dress and curled hair, you looked fine. The brachelet completed the outfit along with your knee high boots. When you got out Chang Wook was already walking towards his car. As he heard you, he stopped and turned around. Suddenly his eyebrows were shot up and his voice got deeper.

“Isn’t that too short?”

You stopped and looked down, confused.

“What’s wrong with it? Everyone wears things like this?”

Chang Wook tilted his head then you both got in the car. On the way when you saw this cutely designed coffee shop you chirped.

“Can you pull over? I want to buy us coffee.”

When you walked in, a tall guy stood behind the counter. He had big eyes and a delicate face with wide shoulders. He looked like a runway model in that simple black uniform. You stopped in front of him and he flashed you a dazzling smile.

“Welcome to Day&Night… What would you like?”

His voice was so soft that it could be sweet as caramel. Taking your eyes away from him for a second you coughed.

“Two pike place roasts please.”

He tilted his head for a second then murmured.

“Interesting…”

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion you could not help but asked while waiting.

“Whats interesting?”

He slowly lifted his head to look at you.

“Your choice of coffee”

The guy in front of you said then went back to brewing the coffee. Still finding the situation awkward you grabbed the white paper cups he left on the counter.

“What would you expect me to choose?”

You blurted out, surprising yourself then bit down your lip. He seemed lost at first but gave you another smile when he realized what you were talking about.

“Vanilla or honey crunch…”

Before you could ask why he went on.

“You are delicate…Bitter tastes do not suit such a beautiful face.”

A small smile spread on your lips before you could realize. Walking out the door your cheeks were still red. You handed a cup to Chang Wook without a word. Looking at your face carefully he raised his eyebrows.

“Yah… Why are your cheeks red?”

Just as Chang Wook asked he saw the young guy inside. Rolling his eyes, his tongue poked his cheek as if he was somewhat jealous.

“Look at the little one…”

You bit down your lip.

“Don’t call me like that.”

Chang Wook chuckled while driving away from the coffee shop. You both sipped your coffees on the way to work. By the afternoon you finished the last e-mail you were supposed to send after it was finally time for lunch. You were in front of the counter and looking for the menu of the day. The voice you know really well washed your ear and you found Chang Wook standing right behind you.

“Lets get jajangmyeon.”

You agreed then you both took one of the small tables beside the window. The sunlight dimly shined on his face so you could not help watching the beautiful man for a good minute. His big eyes and lips were in great harmony with his high cheekbones. When you realized you were gawking, you shook your head.

After you were done there was a little sauce left on the corner of your lip. Chang Wook reached for a napkin and cleaned it for you. Somehow you felt this electricty radiating from his body and he looked into your eyes as if he felt it too. Then he just averted his gaze, putting the napkin down.

The ride back to home was fun with your favorite songs blasting on the speakers. You hummed along with the lyrics which Chang Wook smiled. Though the night was not that fun when the power went off. Even if you did not want to admit you were scared to be in the dark alone. Still undecided you grabbed your phone and made your way towards Chang Wook’s house. Your hand lingered in the air in front of the door. Sighing if you were doing the right thing you just shyly knocked.

Chang Wook seemed surprised when he opened the door in his black tshirt and sweatpants. You were about to explain your reason but a female voice filled your ear.

“Who is that?”

You could not help with the expression on your face so it probably said it all.

“Oh you had a guest?”

Chang Wook just confirmed you with the nod of his head.

“Yeah…”

You looked down, biting your lip.

“I didn’t know… I’ll just get going…”

He seemed like he had something to say but you did not wait. You just wanted to leave and be left alone in your misery. Your teardrops escaped as soon as you closed the door of your home. You just lay down on your bed and did nothing but cried. Under the sheets you pulled your knees towards yourself as you could not stop.

You did not know when you fall asleep but the ringing alarm woke you up with an incredible headache. You did not want to go with him but calling in sick would probably need a reasonable explanation so you just had to go.

It was one of the most awkward moments when you and Chang Wook saw each other. He just greeted you like he usually did and you returned the same but the ride was unusually quiet. You both had a lot to say but noone broke it. You remembered the coffee shop was close so it was the first time you spoke.

“Can you stop by that shop? I want to buy coffee.”

He went okay and wanted to come with you.

“Ah you don’t need to come. I will bring them.”

You hurried inside to find the barista you saw yesterday. He just raised his head to welcome whoever came. When Jung Kook’s eyes landed on you he remembered you right away. The perfect girl for his next perfect scene. He stopped in the mid-sentence.

“Oh you…”

You arched an eyebrow at the beautiful man in surprise.

“You had two pike place roasts last time…”

When he explained your eyes were wide.

“Do you remember me?”

He smiled after your simple question.

“It’s hard to forget such a pretty face…”

After he revealed, he looked down as if he was shy. You bit down your lip and thanked for his compliment. His hands on the counter he gave you a small smile.

“I did not ask what you want yet…but I guess two pike place roasts.”

You could not help with the smile spreading across your lips.

You shyly went on.

“A pike place roast and a honey crunch.”

He started to prepare while murmuring.

“You remember my suggestion.”

He directed his big black eyes at you after grabbing a papercup and a pen.

“I forgot to ask your name yesterday.”

You snaped out of deep thoughts as you almost stuttured.

“Y/N”

He grabbed the other papercup which caused you to look out of the window to Chang Wook’s side. A deep sigh left your mouth before you whispered his name. The barista in front of you followed your gaze and left the papercup down. His long slender fingers gently pushed his back and exposed his forehead. He arched an eyebrow.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

This simple yet serious question startled you for a second. Shaking your head you explained.

“No ! He is… a friend.”

The guy licked his thin lips then looked away. Only then you noticed the small mole under his bottom lip.

“Would it be too bad if I say I am glad to hear that?”

You blinked your eyes a few times thinking how to respond. You shook your head which caused him to flash you a sweet grin. Your hands touched for a mere second while he was handing you the cups. Before you turned around you asked with your cheeks red again.

“Your name?”

His soft voice filled your ears as if it was a music.

“Jung Kook”

You walked out and got in the car with your mind still at the coffee shop. You whispered Jung Kook’s name which Chang Wook noticed. He also noticed the different smell coming from your cup.

“Is it not the same?”

You shook your head with a small smile.

“This is honey crunch.”

Chang Wook furrowed his eyebrows.

“You never got that before.”

You stared out of the window to the coffee shop that was about to leave your sight.

“Maybe its time for a change…”

Chang Wook looked at you but you did not notice because you were busy staring out of the window. You tried to ignore him for the rest of the day but in the end you had to be in the same car. The silence lingered in the air until Chang Wook broke it.

“So little one… Did you go there again to see that barista?”

You were not expecting such a question from him. To be honest, you did not want to answer. Pulling a trick you asked why did he ask such a thing.

“I don’t know…I just thought you might…”

Was Chang Wook’s simple response to your question. If you started to talk, you could have asked about the girl from last night.

“So the girl from last night… Is she your girlfriend?”

Chang Wook remembered the talk with boss. He was called to the big room and Nam Ji Won was sitting behind his big desk. He light up his cigarette and offered one to Chang Wook which he accepted. The smoke suddenly filled the air as they were left alone. Ji Won explained the matter then.

“Chun Hei is my daughter. Someone broke into her house. She will stay with you tonight. I will get one of my houses ready and find someone else to watch out for her tomorrow. I warn you… Keep your mouth shut about her because noone knows and noone will, understand?”

Chang Wook wanted to explain but he could not say anything to you. A deep sigh left his mouth before he answered the question that almost got your heart beat as if it was rip off your chest.

“No,she isn’t”

You arched your eyebrows at him.

“But she stayed last night, didn’t she?”

Chang Wook looked away from you and locked his eyes on the road again.

“Yes…”

All you needed was some hope but you lost it when Chang Wook confirmed she spend the entire night with him. Then you decided. If someone were ever interested in you would not turn them down.

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