#also that blue shirt looks incredible on him honestly a serve

[mellyoraa]

Luke Black on the Turquoise carpet 💙💙

[angryschnauzer]

Undercover Honeymoon

Summary; Having survived a helicopter crash that killed off the gang you and your senior agent had infiltrated, you hide out from the storm that brought the aircraft down by pretending to be Honeymooners at a boutique hotel... but what will 24 hours with August Walker bring you? Trouble, that’s what, and the best possible kind.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (no race or body type specified)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, honestly this is entirely smut, its a crack fic too. Sigh, here goes: face slap, murder, August in a hoodie and grey sweatpants, oral sex (female recieving), blowjob, drunken antics, impared judgement, titty fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, inappropriate lube, multiple orgasms, dubious consent, choking, dom-vibes, Sugar Daddy arrangement (but no Daddy kink).

I do not run a tag list, but if you go and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and hit notifications, you’ll get an alert to any new stories i post. All previous fics can be found on there or on my Ao3

Undercover Honeymoon

The helicopter spiralled out of control, the tall pines looming through the storm of the century rain, screaming filled your ears, unsure if it was the sound of the engines failing or coming from your own lungs. The aircraft made contact with the trees and everything went black.

-

“Agent… AGENT!” a slap across your face sprang you from your unconscious state, your vision blurred and you winced at the sharp pain that shot through your temple as the face before you came into focus.

“Walker?” you muttered; “Can’t blow our cover…”

Strong arms gripped your shoulders;

“Wake UP! Everyone else is dead”

The next hour was surreal. Agent Walker - your superior officer - had pulled you from the wreckage of the helicopter, past the lifeless bodies of the gang you’d infiltrated, some of which had injuries that looked suspiciously like gunshot wounds. Either way you were alive and so was the other undercover agent, and having spent the last four days running bank robberies you were relieved to be rid of the brutal gang.

Agent Walker had half dragged half carried you through the forest, and even though it was the middle of the day, the torrential rain and dark storm clouds above made the way feel like you were travelling at twilight. When you stumbled on some roots he caught you, his arm firmly around your waist;

“C’mon Agent, not much further now…” his voice softer than usual, reassuring even.

“Where’re we going?”

“Out of season ski lodge… should be quiet this time of year, just a couple of wildlife watchers no doubt”

-

What you’d been expecting was a cute little place with checkered curtains and cutesy decor, what you’d arrived at was a luxury boutique hotel. Agent Walker had managed to spin a very convincing tale of your car leaving the highway due to the weather and he’d arrange to get it recovered after the storm so you could continue your ‘honeymoon’. The receptionist had smiled warmly and offered the pair of you the luxury suite, August merrily peeling $100 bills off a stack he’d produced from his pocket, the paper band that held them together from the robbery slyly crumpled up and you quietly picked it up from the floor, a tiny smirk on the corner of his face when he spotted you covering his rare mistake.

-

Ten minutes later you were settled in your shared room, starting to peel yourself out of your soaked boots and clothing as you eyed the enormous bathroom and ultra fluffy robes that were provided.

“I’m going to go to the gift shop…” he announced, breaking the silence; “They do hoodies and stuff, i’ll grab some dry things to change into…”

“Thanks Agent Walker… I’m going to take a bath…”

He nodded quietly, standing at the door;

“It’s August… call me August”

You must have fallen asleep in the bath, as the next thing you know there is an insistent knocking on the bathroom door;

“Honey? Honey, everything ok in there?”

“Y-yes, Sorry, fell asleep…”

“Ok Honey, just got room service here delivering some lunch”

“Thanks Aug… Augie…”

Augie? Where the hell did that come from? You mentally chastised yourself. An hour ago he was your senior agent and all round grumpy supervisor, now he was ‘Augie’? You actually facepalmed yourself before taking a deep breath and climbing out of the bath. A few moments later once you were dry, wearing the fluffy robe you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, your breath catching in your throat;

“Augie… we have company?”

Agent Walker was standing in the middle of the room in his shirt, underwear and socks, talking to the room service attendant as he tipped the young man;

“Darling, lunch is here, you must be famished” he let a warm smile spread over his face as he turned to the staff member; “We must have a bite to eat… expending lots of energy, it is our honeymoon after all…”

Once he’d ushered the man out of the room he cleared his throat and his expression dropped, his face serious again;

“I got your new attire… it fits more with the location” he motioned for you to follow him to the bed where there were a number of things laid out, however your feet were rooted to the floor; “What?”

“You’re… you’re in your underwear…”

He looked down, almost in shock to discover he was without his cargo pants;

“Yes? And you’re completely naked beneath that fetching white robe” he motioned to a side of the bed where a bunch of things were sat on the pristine white duvet; “So unless you wish to eat lunch having me know you are naked save for a glorified towel with sleeves - and that would be a delightful thought - you may want to get changed whilst i shower”

Without another word he smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and grabbed a pile of clothing on the bed, before sauntering into the bathroom, leaving you open jawed at both his sassiness and his tight ass in snug jersey boxers.

Turning back to what was laid on the bed you looked over what he’d managed to get in the hotel’s boutique; a daringly short floral summer dress, a hoodie with the Hotel’s logo on, a pack of novelty thong panties also with bears on, and the highest heeled wedge sandals you’d ever seen. Although none of this surprised you, it was after all the kind of hotel where in good weather, the rich and famous could have cocktails on the deck as they overlooked the Rocky mountains, the fact he’d managed to find your exact size in everything was impressive.

Leaving the heels off for now, you pull the panties and dress on, throwing the hoodie on unzipped to cover up a little, before going to investigate the food, realising that you probably hadn’t eaten for close to 24 hours. You were bent over the service trolley scrutinising the various dishes that had been delivered when you heard his voice;

“Huh, didn’t need to buy you a wallet, those tiny panties show off your silken purse beautifully Princess”

Spinning around you gasped, about to give him a piece of your mind but your train of thought stopped like a record scratch. There before you stood Agent August Walker, grey sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips, chest bare as he pulled a khaki green hoodie over his still damp curls. You noticed how his beard was a little beyond stubble, his mustache curling as a small smile tugged as his lips. Your gaze unashamedly ran down the length of his entire body, emphasis on length as it was clear he was without any underwear, and those rumours that were quietly whispered in the ladies room at the Pentagon were looking to be true as to exactly why they called him ‘The Hammer’.

Still holding a cooling French Fry he sauntered over to you before grabbing a sandwich from the platter;

“My apologies… that was inappropriate” he took a bite, before talking with his mouth full; “Been a crazy 24 hours huh?”

“Y-yeah, you could say that… so, what’s the plan?”

Just at that moment an incredible gust of wind rattled the windows to the point you thought they would blow in, the lights overhead flickered before settling back to bright as he answered;

“Eat, Drink, Sleep. We’re stuck here at least overnight. We don’t have any cells or electronics people can trace, and having checked the map this is not the closest civilisation to the crash site so even if people did come looking for us, this isn’t the first place they’d think of… however in this weather the roads are impassable, at least two rivers have breached their banks, we’re basically cut off from the rest of the world here in our own little bubble” he took a bite of sandwich before grinning at you; “So eat up, the bar downstairs is well stocked, dinner is apparently served in about 4 hours, and there’s a game room if you’re up for a round or two of pool…”

-

Giggling you both tumbled into your suite, August flicking the light switch up and down before realising the power had gone out at the exact moment he’d unlocked the door;

“Oooh dark… are you afraid of the dark Princess?”

The pair of you stumbled and turned, pushing the door shut and you found yourself pressed between it and August’s body, his lips finding your neck as he pressed kisses along your jugular, his facial hair leaving behind a trail of tingling skin in its wake;

“Depends who i’m in the dark with…”

He was so close, in the faint last traces of daylight as the storm took hold of the night you could see the outline of his face, how his long eyelashes rested against his cheeks as he closed his eyes, his breath warm on your skin as you were surrounded by his scent, pine soap and single malt whiskey;

“A monster…”

“I was never afraid of monsters…”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, pressing a kiss to your clothed stomach before his hands were beneath the skirt and pulling your novelty panties down;

“Hold your dress up Princess, show me that pretty pussy”

Doing as he told you, you gripped the pretty fabric in your hands as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, pressing kisses to your inner thighs before his thick fingers parted your folds and he dived in. His mustache and light beard pricked at your sensitive skin, but his tongue and lips soothed your aching core, desperate for attention and dripping with need as he went to town on you. He quickly brought you to orgasm before pushing you on for the next, his fingers now knuckle deep in your velvet walls, curling just right to find that spot that had you dripping, his tongue working against your clit to the point where you had to steady yourself by curling one hand through his soft chestnut curls, riding his face as you cried out his name.

Now over sensitive, you pulled his curls to get him to relent, a grunt of frustration coming from between your thighs;

“Augie… please… too sensitive…”

He quickly stood, lifting you to kiss you roughly, his tongue pushing into your mouth and you could taste yourself on his tongue as he gripped your ass as he carried you across the room before unceremoniously dropping you on the bed;

“Strip” he commanded as he staggered to the bathroom. 

You ignored his request, instead reaching for a bottle of water at the side of the bed, taking a drink from he as he returned holding a bottle;

“August… what’s that?”

He looked down at the bottle, almost surprised he was holding something and blinked a few times before looking back at you;

“Baby oil. Its... Baby oil”

“Why do you have Baby oil?” you asked, already knowing the answer but with a sly streak wanting to get him to admit it

“Because they didn’t sell condoms in the gift shop so i cant fuck your pussy because i can’t check to see if you’re on birth control” he blurted out quickly.

Whatever you had been expecting, it hadn’t been that, and as you coughed on the water you had been about to drink, August got distracted and moved to light the candles that sat on the table in the centre of the room now that the only available light was the tiny light over the sink in the bathroom that was battery operated. You watched as he somehow managed to strike the matches and light the candles even though he was visibly drunk, before returning back to the bed and standing over you;

“Why aren’t you naked?” he frowned at you; “Don’t make me rip that pretty little dress off of you Princess”

Shimmying out of your dress you bit your lip as you watched him watching you, the low light dancing over your body and enough for you to see the obscene bulge barely contained by his sweatpants. He stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you before he took hold of your ankles and roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed before he pulled the grey sweats down and you finally got sight of his legendary hammer;

“Fuck…”

“We’ll get to that Princess, but first, suck”

Taking him in your hands he was hot and throbbing at your touch, his thick shaft patterned with veins, heavy and virile. You pumped your fist, your fingers unable to meet as you worked his uncut dick. You felt his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer until you had no choice but to open your mouth and take him as deep as you could, gagging as he immediately hit the back of your throat and started to fuck your mouth.

Holding your head in place with both hands he rocked his hips back and forth, groaning as he stretched your lips almost uncomfortably. Soon you had spit running down your chin as he rained down a stream of degrading compliments;

“Cock hungry slut, look at you with my dick in your mouth… does it taste good, Jesus christ your tongue is perfect, yeah do that thing again, fuck, i can feel your throat tight around me…” with a gasp he pulled out, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his angry red tip, before he grabbed the baby oil and pushed you back until you were laying flat on the bed;

“Push your tits together, i’m gonna fuck them and cum all over your pretty face”

He climbed on the bed, straddling your lower torso as you found yourself pushing your breasts together. The click of a bottle of baby oil and it was being poured in the valley of your chest, before he settled his dick against the slick skin. He dropped the bottle and with a grunt pulled his hoodie over his head, revealing his glorious chest, covered in dark hair and thicker than you had realised. 

His dick was heavy against your chest as he took your hands in his and showed you how he wanted you to hold your titties for him, rocking his hips bath and forth as his hot flesh slipped through your soft pillows, the angry tip poking out at your neck with each thrust;

“So fucking pretty, gonna cum all over that face… you wanna taste my cum you little slut? Yeah? Cock hungry slut, can’t get enough of my dick, can you?”

You didn’t answer, the lust in his eyes making you drunk with desire, instead you tipped your head to your chest and opened your mouth, letting August’s dick slide into your mouth, the salty tang of his precum hitting your senses.

His thrusts were becoming rough and violent, his hips squeezing your ribcage as he fought back against the urge to cum, but you wanted it, needed it;

“August, will you cum on my face, pretty please?” you batted your eyelashes at him innocently and it was the final straw, and you watched as he threw his head back and thick ropes of his creamy seed spurted over your mouth and cheeks as he groaned so deliciously. On the last spurt you leaned forwards and took his tip into your mouth, gently laving your tongue over the leaking slit, before releasing him softly. August had eased his gasp on your tits, and using his thick finger he scooped the cum from your cheek;

“Open wide Princess”

Sticking your tongue out you sucked the bitter treat from his finger, before he repeated it with the other cheek. Finally swallowing you grinned at him;

“Thank you August”

His hand paused on your cheek, softly cupping it;

“Anything for you Princess… now scoot up the bed, i wanna eat that pussy again whilst i get you ready for my dick”

He swung his leg over so you could wriggle up the bed, and immediately he was laying between your legs, both of your thighs over his shoulders as he started to sloppily eat you out again, except this time his lubed fingers strayed to your asshole and he already had one knuckle deep in your back entrance. You were writhing against his tongue, and although not as accurate with his targets this time now that the alcohol in his system was taking hold, that wide tongue was driving you to heaven as his fingers pulled you down into the dark pits of depravity that hell could only contain. You were uttering almost incomprehensible gibberish, begging for more which he eagerly gave, a second and soon a third finger stretching your ass as he prepared you for what was yet to come. You came with a scream as his wide tongue tormented your pussy until you had to physically pull him by his curls to stop, breathless as you watched him kneel on the bed and grab the baby oil, pouring some onto his hand to lube his dick before smoothing a considerable amount over your asshole and lined up his now raging hard on with your stretched hole. He paused, looking down at you;

“Final chance to back out… do you want me to fuck your ass?”

“Yes… please August, i want your dick in my ass, i want you to cum in my ass, treat me like a dirty anal slut”

With a groan he pushed forwards, slowly breaching your body and you felt the uncomfortable stretch of having a dick slide into your ass. Even with the prep and the oil it still took a while for your body to relax enough for him to push in, but when he eventually was balls deep in your ass you felt so full you were sure you would burst;

“Oh my god… You’re so big…”

“Taking me like a champ Princess, even with the oil your ass is so fucking tight i’m struggling not to blow my load right here and now”

“Fuck my ass August, do it hard, i wanna feel it in the morning…”

With a roar he started to fuck into you, holding himself up on his massive arms as his hips pistoned into you, filling your barren depths as his pubic bone rubbed against your empty pussy and your juices flooded his crotch;

“So fucking wet Princess, leaking all down your ass, its only adding to the lube so i can fuck you harder. Your poor little battered asshole, you’re barely gonna be able to sit tomorrow… apart from back on my dick as we have breakfast, don’t think this is the only time i’m gonna fuck your ass, i’m gonna use this hole until you’re loose and stretched, so i can just bend you over and slide my dick into your ass. Gonna hide those stupid panties i bought you, i want you walking around bare, my cum dripping down your legs where there’s so much inside you, you can barely keep it inside… shame the gift shop didn’t sell plugs, i woulda’ filled you with my load and have you plugged and ready lubed for me to use whenever i pleased…”

August’s dirty talk had you cumming hard, squeezing him tight and yet he fucked you straight through it. Laying limp as he continued to fill your ass he slowed and moved, kneeling on the bed as he moved your legs from either side of his lips until both your feet were over one of his shoulders, pushing and pulling you until he had one arm firmly wrapped around your knees and he could fuck into your ass as he held you like a rag doll. The new position was tighter, deeper, and as you started to pant out with lust his free hand rested on your throat, squeezing carefully but firmly;

“Harder…” you panted out, your head swimming as your airway was restricted, and as he pounded into your ass you were both getting close.

“Gonna cum in your ass, fill you up with a massive load, you want that Princess?”

You tried to say yes, but all that came out was a tiny croak as his massive hand gripped your throat. Before you could even try again your orgasm hit, your eyes rolling back in their sockets as you squirted, your body gripping him so tight he reached his peak, pushing in as deep as he could as he pumped your ass full of his cum.

August released his grip on your neck, pulling out gently as he softly lay your legs on the bed;

“Did so well Princess, such a good little slut…”

You could only hum out a response, your mind as used as your body was.

-

You woke to the sound of soft rain falling against the window, peering out from beneath the duvet you could see that the grey light of morning was filling the room, the storm seemingly blown mostly through with just a persistent rain now dampening the earth. Shifting on the bed you winced, everything was sore, but especially your ass. But then a warm body pressed to your back, a large hand smoothed over your stomach and a familiar voice spoke softly in your ear as stubble brushed against your bare shoulders;

“Rise and shine…”

“Hmmmmm no, i don’t wanna get up” you grumbled

“But…”

“Noooo. If we get up then we’ve got to think about things going back to normal, i just wanna pretend i’m able to stay in a hotel as nice as this when i’m not trying to escape a dangerous gang… too many responsibilities, too much stress… i just want another half hour of being treated like a Princess” you grumbled.

A quiet chuckle came from behind you;

“There’s no reason why we can’t do this again”

Turning in his arms, you looked at August;

“How? You’re my superior Agent, the CIA pushes and pushes and pushes, I never get enough time off to do something like this, If i had known i was literally signing my life away i would never have signed up for the academy. What’s the fucking use of earning a good wage if i can never enjoy it… and its not even that good of a wage to be honest…” you paused and narrowed your gaze; “Have you showered?”

“Yes. And i have a proposition for you…”

“Keep talking…”

August started to move, slowly climbing between your legs and you felt his hard dick resting against your folds, your pussy instinctively growing wet, slowly rubbing against you as he smiled down at you;

“As a senior agent i get a considerably better wage than you do, but i don’t have anyone to share it with, anyone to treat like a Princess and spoil with gifts that they deserve… but i also want someone that will be agreeable to my darkest desires…” he rocked his hips back before slowly parting his thighs, and you felt the nudge of his tip at your soaked pussy; “... someone, a woman i can treat like a Princess but will let me fuck them like a whore… can i fuck your pussy like a whore?”

The gentle nudge of his dick just stretching the ring of muscle that granted access to the heaven between your legs had you begging, pleading to be August’s Whore. He let out a sigh of pleasure as he slowly sank into your pussy, bare and unprotected filling you with his virile shaft;

“You’re my Slutty Princess…taking my dick like a pro”

In that hotel room August Walker became your sugar Daddy, and over room service breakfast you agreed the details of your arrangement as you sat on his lap, his dick in your ass as he fed you strawberries, before he grew impatient and bounced you on his dick until he came in your barren depths. Resting back against his chest, his softening dick still inside you he played with your pussy as he discussed the next step, trying to decide if a trip to an adult store or a jewellery store should be the first stop after returning to DC;

“How about a jewelled plug?” you suggested; “That’s the best of both worlds”

Holding your jaw he turned your head so he could kiss you, pulling away and grinning;

“See, that’s why you’re the perfect Princess, smart and sexy…”

You felt him start to harden in your ass again, wriggling and letting out a giggle as you felt him stretch your insides;

“Over the table or out on the balcony in the rain?” you asked

“Oooh lets do the balcony… its check out time so a few other guests will be able to see my little slut have her battered asshole filled with another load”

There on the balcony that overlooked the serene mountains August filled your ass again, your naked bodies soaked with the rain as he gripped your breasts whilst he fucked you from behind. 

You couldn’t wait to be August’s play thing.

[cherrykindness]

wild tweets |

pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader

summary: as newlyweds, you and harry read thirsty comments for buzzfeed.

warning: it's thirsty tweets, so below there is adult humor 😳

"It's a bright, sunny morning in Los Angeles, and there's nothing I want more than to be on BuzzFeed and read wild tweets alongside my husband."

"Thirsty tweets, babe." Harry corrected, laughing out loud with the producers behind the cameras.

"Thirsty Tweets." You said quickly, putting your hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle. "I'm terrible at that, I'm sorry. Can we start over?"

"Let's take a break for one to two minutes. You've given us a great introduction, Y/N."

You shook your head, smiling shyly before turning to Harry, who was already watching you with that easy smile at the corner of his lips. You liked how his hand remained firmly on yours, making those circular movements with the thumb that always served as a natural medice for your anxiety.

"You look so fucking beautiful."

The pleated dress with flounce sleeves fit you like a glove. You had made peace with the various shades of white since the wedding and knew that Harry liked to see you in that color too.

"Thank you, you're not too bad either, Styles."

You intimately suspected that Harry would always seem far beyond that "not bad" that came out as a euphemism from your mouth. He wore nothing but a pair of bell-bottom pants in a strong shade of blue and a soft vest printed with fluffy little sheep on a striped American collared shirt - in your opinion, no one could look better in farm animal clothing than Harry Styles and Princess Diana with her red "Black Sheep" sweater in the 1980s. In contrast, you knew your husband well enough to know that he was arrogant and knew exactly how hot he looked - you also made your thoughts clear enough when you kept him backstage beyond ten minutes in a rather heated kissing session.

"Are you anxious?" you asked curiously, remaining with downcast eyes fixed on the strokes that remained assiduous on your warm skin. "To read about how the whole internet dreams of fucking my wife?! Of course." Harry joked, leaning over to leave a small one on your cheek. "We agree on that, don't we? Although I'm a little nervous, I'm really interested to know all the crazy things they say about you. Everyone knows you're mine at the end of the day, that's enough."

At the end of the break, you and Harry made a silent agreement that you should be the first to pick up one of the scattered papers in the red pot. There were quite a significant amount of tweets, and as much as you were used to reading rather sordid things about your husband on the Internet, the excitement was there as if you were wading into uncharted territory.

"I would be a good girl all year round if Santa guaranteed me a threesome with Harry and Y/N Styles on Christmas Eve." You laughed, Harry staring at the camera with an expression close to the meme of the surprised Pikachu. "You guys are incredibly nasty, I love it."

"If that was the first one, I'm really worried about the next ones." Harry commented with a little corner smile, picking the next tweet out of the bucket. "I have an entire folder on Pinterest dedicated to Harry Styles' hands, and let me tell you why: those hands are art, and art needs to be recognized."

"What- Guys, you promised you wouldn't post my anonymous tweets here." You quipped with false reproach, laughing at your own stupid joke while everyone else in the studio did the same. "But I can't blame her, honestly." Shaking your shoulders, you opened another piece of paper. "Harry Styles finally confessed that he wrote Watermelon Sugar for Y/N!!!! Are you guys imagining the same thing as me?!!!!!! 🥵🍆💦"

"Exhausted emoji, eggplant emoji, and water emoji?" Harry frowned, staring at the tweet you held up. "I imagine you're in need of a vacation somewhere refreshing and you're craving a fruit that everyone eats like it's really a vegetable."

"That reminded me of that story-" You laughed, hiding your face on the table as Harry continued to offer a poker face to the camera, struggling not to keep up with you laughter. "I'm sorry, lovie, I have to share this with the rest of the world." You stated, wiping a few tears from the corner of your eyes. "Harry always wears those fancy suits to concerts, right?! Right! Turns out he looks really hot in some, like his ass molds perfectly into those tight pants and everything. I was home that night because I wasn't feeling well enough to face the big crowds, but I was still following everything on twitter. It was a concert in London, not so far from where we lived at the time, so it was obvious that he would come home after it was over. I follow some portals that do really fast updates of pictures, videos, etc; everything that happened at Harry's concert was on my timeline in a matter of seconds. When one of these profiles uploaded a picture of him with his back to the camera in a heavily accentuated black and white suit, I quickly sent him the image along with a peach emoji and then wrote "looks good tonight". He didn't reply to me until a few hours later, of course, but I obviously didn't expect a "ready for a Fifth Avenue peach salad for dinner?" and numerous cutlery emojis."

Harry rolled his eyes comically, indulging in laughter as did everyone else who occupied the backstage area.

"I'm against the eroticization of emojis." He said between uncompensated breaths, shaking his head negatively. "Let's go to the next ones, please, I'm already feeling exposed enough here."

"I like your old-fashioned spirit, baby." You assured him with a smile, laying on the sturdy shoulder hidden under the fluffy fabric.

Harry chuckled low, leaving a little kiss on the top of your head before selecting the next paper. The fans would die when that video aired, everyone was sure. You two easily forgot the cameras when you were side by side, and the public display of affection had never been a problem.

"My life mission is to look at someone the way Harry looks at Y/N and be reciprocated the way Y/N looks at Harry, then I could die happy." Harry read. "That was very good and healthy, thank you!" He smiled. "But don't settle for death in that case, please. Just make sure to keep that person around forever."

"Awn, we got so sweet now." You made a pout. "Thank you for sending us something so cute! I really hope you find the right person soon." Sending a kiss to the camera, you moved on to the next tweet. "I wouldn't want to get a golden ticket to visit Willy Wonka's factory, I would like to get a golden ticket to actively participate in Y/N and Harry Styles' Honeymoon.

"That was creative, so I will disregard the fact that you removed my last name from my wife's name." Harry joked.

"I will always be an Y/L/N." You flashed the tongue. "We had a great Honeymoon, but I know you guys already know all about it because there are pictures all over the internet of outings that I don't even remember existed."

"Even though we chose a rather reserved city, many paparazzi still managed to photograph some of our nights there." Harry agreed. "There was one particular day when we opted to have dinner at a restaurant near the beach. Y/N had found it even before the trip, it was pretty laid back and we could spend the evening at karaoke. I don't really remember what happened, but we woke up the next day with a terrible hangover, still wearing the clothes from the dinner and with several headlines saying that I was cheating on my wife in the middle of our Honeymoon with a blue-haired italian girl."

"That wig made me sexy, man." You blinked, laughing as you remembered the situation. "It's a shame the paparazzi only got low quality images, but I swear I looked really amazing that night. Italy, I miss you."

"We're coming to the end and I haven't had to ask production for a glass of water yet, thank you to whoever selected these tweets." Harry raised his thumb to the camera, smiling before turning his gaze back to the small paper he had chosen. "Y/N could literally punch me in the face and I would just bow down and thank them for it." He laughed. "She has heavy hands, so I would rethink that choice."

"It takes strong hands to be a superheroine." You blinked gracefully, referring to your works as a Marvel actress. "I move around a lot during the night, so I'll take this lovely opportunity to say that twitter can dismiss all the malicious theories about Harry always show up with a new bruise all over his body."

"Please stop making indecent assumptions while Y/N is aggressive with me at night only unconsciously, her father has access to social media."

You laughed, clearing your throat before reading the next obscenity aloud.

"I would sell all my possessions to have Y/N sitting on my lap for ten seconds."

"Oh my God." Harry laughed out loud, throwing his head back. "I should have said that in our wedding vows."

You shook your head, laughing low as you set the tweet aside.

"That was pretty funny and cheeky, I approve."

"Okay, looks like we finally got to the last one." Harry announced, waving the paper in the air dramatically before opening it. "Harry could literally crush me with those boots while fuc- I need that glass of water." He said dumbfounded, hiding his face between his hands after throwing the tweet over his shoulder. You laughed out loud next to the organizers, and meanwhile Harry leaned his head on your bust, staring at you still with wide eyes. "Please promise that we will be careful with our future children on the internet."

[infinitebells]

Hello, I really like your blog a lot! If you still take them, I'd like to make a request. How about William Moriarty, Sherlock Homes, and Gojo (Jujutsu Kaisen) neglecting their s/o because they are busy. But they make it up to them with a sensual and passionate night (nsfw pls). I hope this is okay. Take care! <3

oh yes this is brilliant. also i'm going to keep this gender neutral since a gender wasn't specified so it's smut very under the cut.

william

✧ at first you’re well aware that he hasn’t been spending time with you because he’s busy

✧ however, as time goes on, the self doubt gnaws at the back of your mind, and you don’t even realize just how much it’s been affecting you until you can’t even get out of bed one day

✧ all that runs through your head is that he’s probably neglecting you because he’s fallen out of love

✧ william’s been far to busy to see how much his lack of affection has affected you

✧ it isn’t until you can’t even look up at the table during breakfast to say hi to him, and when you do finally look up there are dark bags under your eyes and your eyes are extremely bloodshot

✧ when you see how he's staring at you in shock, you flee the table and lock yourself in your room for the entire day

✧ it isn't until it's almost midnight when william finally goes into your room, his mind running a mile a minute, that he realizes just how badly you've been feeling

✧ the entire day he had been thinking of ways to make it up to you, so by the time he's in bed with you, he already knows what to do

"my love, i'm sorry for neglecting you so much. allow me to show you how much i love you ok?" he says from on top of you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, swollen from you biting them. it was a nervous habit you had developed over the years.

"what do you mean?" your voice is soft, and he can hear the exhaustion in it.

"let me take care of you for the night okay?" he doesn't wait for an answer, unbuttoning the shirt you were wearing. he was pleased to see it was one from his own closet. his lips move from yours, traveling down your jawline and tracing the line of your neck. he hears a content sigh from you, and he smiles against your skin as he continue his path down your neck.

"will, if you don't love me anymore just tell me," his eyes widen as your words, one hand coming to rest next to your head as the other gently massages your hip.

"i'm so madly in love with you i can't imagine my life without you," he breathes out, moving back down to trail kisses down your naked front. "i'm so sorry i haven't been treating you the way you properly deserve," he murmurs against your skin. your honest whimpers shake your body upon feeling william's lips against your clothed groin, and you can feel his soft smile against you.

"let me treat you like the royalty you are,"

✧ ✧ ✧ 

sherlock

✧ he gets so caught up in his cases that he honest to god just forgets about anything else in his life

✧ he once forgot john at a restaurant they were having lunch at because he saw someone struggling with a mugger trying to steal their bag and he sprinted out to go help

✧ so you're used to him being an airhead sometimes and forgetting about spending time with you

✧ however, this time around it had been going on for weeks, and it was almost like you didn't even exist at this point

✧ the self conscious feeling had been eating away at you, and john had started to notice how you skipped meals with him and sherlock and how you rarely left your room unless it was to lock yourself in miss hudson's room

✧ once watson pointed this out to sherlock, he felt extremely stupid because how could he be so neglectful of his wonderful partner?

✧ he decides to surprise you, making sure you were tucked safely in miss hudson's room for the day so he could have time to prepare the surprise

"what is this?" your voice was shaky, the dry sobs from earlier still shaking your body. the room you shared with sherlock was awash in the gentle glow of candles on every available surface, and rose petals traced a path to the bed. sherlock was laid on top of the made up bedding, and sherlock himself was spread out on his side, his elbow on the bed as his hand supported his head. he was shirtless, loose pants barely covering his bottom half, and a beautiful red rose stuck between his teeth. it was a scene straight out of a romance novel.

"i'm making up for being a horrible, horrible boyfriend for the past few weeks," he informs you, the rose falling out of his mouth as his hand beckons you to the bed. you hesitantly edge forward, kneeling down on the bed in front of him. he could see how tense you were, body trembling as tears flooded your eyes. he got up from his spot on the bed, sitting cross legged as he drags you onto his lap, hands finding your face and holding you gently. he was scared if he held any tighter he'd shatter your delicate, beautiful aura.

"n-no, if you don't want to be together any-" his hand moves, palm covering your mouth as he shakes his head.

"you're not getting rid of me that easily. i'm here to stay, and i'm going to make up for not being there for you. i was a very stupid boyfriend, and i'm going to show you how much i love you," he murmurs quietly, hand tilting your head back as his lips find your neck. his touch is barely there, but as one hand finds your hip and the other holds your jaw in place to the side, you're aware of the fact that he's just getting started. he switches from kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder to biting down, hard, and pushing your hips down onto his. you can feel his bulge beneath you, and the moan that falls from your lips is involuntary.

"sherlock," you mumble out, eyes fluttering closed. his kisses and nips grow harder, and his hips gyrate up into yours at a steady pace. both of your breaths pick up, and both of his hands land on your hips and push you down harshly onto his. the groan that rumbles through his chest sounds heavenly, and it pulls a whine out of you.

"fuck darling, i missed you so much," he whispers against your neck, tugging at your night shirt before pulling it off completely. you're both topless, bare torsos pushed together as his finally pulls his face out of your neck and meets your gaze.

"i missed you too detective holmes," you tease, grinding your own hips down onto his. he groans loudly, flipping you two over. rose petals fly up beside you at the force, but your attention is on the man above you, and the aroused smirk plastered across his face.

"oh, i definitely missed this," he says before yanking your pants down harshly.

✧ ✧ ✧ 

gojo

✧ gojo-sensei honestly has a maximum of three thoughts in his head at all times, and no he's not stupid he just cannot focus on too many things at once or he'll get severely overwhelmed

✧ so between dealing with a reincarnated yuji, hiding his existence from the higher-ups, and dealing with multiple unregistered special grade curses, he just has not had extra time to spend with you

✧ you're well aware and understanding of his added stress, but your insecurities plague you despite knowing this

✧ the logical part of you knows he's just busy, but your negative thoughts simply weighed you down to the point where both yuji and nanami could see how tired you were

✧ gojo only realized how neglected you had been feeling when sukuna popped up on yuji's cheek to make a snide comment about how if gojo wasn't going to take care of his s/o properly, then sukuna would gladly take over for him

✧ immediately rushes home to spend the rest of the night with you

the frantic pounding on your shared bedroom does nothing to rouse you, and when gojo finally unlocks the door and rushes into the room, you're still laying on the bed with your back facing him.

"sweetheart?" his voice is soft, and you feel the bed dip behind you. you stay facing the wall, desperately hoping he won't see the tears sliding across your face. you're proved wrong when his hand tugs on your shoulder, moving you so you're on your back and his face is hovering over yours. his blindfold is hanging around his neck, blue eyes gazing into yours.

"yeah?" you can't stop how your voice cracks, and it only serves to further embarrass you. his face drops, arms pulling you close to him so that your body is beneath his as he hovers over you, one arm propping him up. the other hand rests on your cheek, and you can't help the onslaught of tears that follows his affection. your eyes squeeze shut, and you barely suppress a sob.

"shh, shh, no baby don't cry, i'm so sorry for how i've been acting. i've been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad boyfriend," he says, and his heart softens as he hears a small laugh from you at the reference to one of your favorite movies. "seriously sweetheart, i'm incredibly sorry for not spending time with you. am i allowed to show you how much i love you?" he asks, and when you open your eyes, you can't miss the signature mischievous glint in his startling blue eyes.

"how so?" he gazes down at your wide eyes, tears glistening on your lower lashline and mouth slightly agape in wonder. you look unbelievably beautiful, even in your sadness.

"by doing this," he leans down, kissing you deeply. you immediately respond, reveling in the sweet, familiar taste of the raspberry-flavored chapstick smeared across his lips. you don't taste it for long as his lips move to your neck, hands slithering down your body to yank at the sleep shorts sitting on your hips. once they're down, he leans back, throwing your legs over his shoulders as his lips press onto your groin through your underwear. you gasp at the feeling, warmth pooling in your gut. he smirks, hands gripping the soft flesh of your thighs.

"and what exactly is this?" you're breathless as this point, face warm and legs borderline trembling as his face sits so close to your crotch.

"the physical act of love," his eyebrows wiggle seductively, and neither of you can keep your laughs in. even when he presses another kiss to your clothed area, you'll both always find humor in the love you share together. and gojo had missed seeing you laugh with his head between your legs. he was planning on imprinting the entire night into his brain after it was over.

[betweentheracks]

We*bo Night Style Review

The following is my insight and perception as a professional stylist and is subjective to my position and role. 

Long post is long. 

Starting from the first I saw, I will address Yibo's blue Chanel number. This look pulls directly from Chanel's Spring 2021 Ready-to-Wear line. It is paired with Jimmy Choo Mocca loafers and a beret which has a badge on it bearing "my own private planet" on it. This is a cute accessory for the The Little Prince homage alone. I won’t go into how fitting it is for Yibo to pull from this beloved book as it would make this post needlessly gushy and too long, just know that I have had loud feelings about it all day. 

Honestly, I was underwhelmed upon first impression when I saw this fit. Setting aside my own personal dislike of Chanel, the overall feel of this look didn't catch nor meet what I would have expected to see. It held a cute air of youth to it and played upon the boyish charm Yibo simply cannot be rid of thanks to his facial structure and features. It is jarring for me to write about Chanel in conjunction to "youthful, boyish charms" as Chanel caters near exclusively to women with deep pockets that enjoy looking as if they corner the ideal of being a Stepford Wife, no matter the age. 

However, Yibo has always successfully turned Chanel's overt "Emily Gilmore" aesthetic on its head and has singlehandedly returned Chanel to being in the ranks of fashion which are aimed at younger to middle range adults. Tonight is no exception to this as he did look wonderful. The accessories and the shirt are all also Chanel and initially debuted in as an ensemble when this Spring 2021 Ready-to-Wear line was trotted out at the end of last year. In my opinion as a professional and critical eye, Yibo wore this look better than the original model. The way his hair stylist did his hair with micro extensions and false locks to give him that additional length and furthering the ideal of youthful leisure really made this style snap off. 

Some notes on the pieces in play: 

This is not the first time Yibo has worn this specific collection of Chanel’s. His styles from Tencent Star Awards were also from this range. 

This collection was inspired by actresses of the vintage screen. Virginie Viard has commented that she wanted to capture the duality of modern actress lifestyles - high production value and quality of the red carpet service styles, to the staged nuance of being off screen and therefore off duty while waiting in line for coffee - framed by classic lines of the bygone Hollywood era. Yibo specifically seems drawn to the separates-based mix of the set, which were all styled from the draw of the 1980s - hence the shoulder pads and candy colors of pink and now blue. I feel it is worth mentioning that when this line debuted the runway many comments flew about how the collection felt very reminiscent of looking at Regina George inspired couture. Mean Girls, but make it Wang Yibo. 

The mini purse around his waist is actually a necklace, not a belt. 

He is wearing the Coco Crush ring. This item is peak comfort item material as he seems incredibly keen on wearing it whenever possible and is unabashed to have it called to attention. There is a story behind this ring, of this my professional chimes are ringing loudly in certainty. 

My impression of this style changed drastically the more I looked at it and marveled at the almost pale vulnerability the look managed to pluck upon. The color is flattering despite it being candy-bright and almost too pigmented to think of as a functional red carpet choice. Also, I strongly suspect the play here was to highlight the duality of Yibo himself since the style he served up immediately after this completely overwhelms the fawning spring of this style. 

Wang Yibo 2.0

This second look features Fendi, Patek Philippe, and Louboutin. The blazer is a Fendi black wool piece and the shirt, also Fendi, is from their lovely Spring/Summer 2021 collection. The watch is Patek Philippe and further showcases Yibo’s taste for expensive and bold watches and it’s actually incredibly admirable for him to use watches as an accessory which seals the deal on an ensemble. There aren’t many that can pull this off due to how often watches remain hidden by the cuffs and sleeves of jackets and shirts and therefore go unnoticed or are seen as bulky obstructions and are being slowly and steadily phased out from being considered staples of style. Of course the shoes are Louboutin, which is just a nice choice no matter what. Solid footwear; sleek and stylish no matter what. 

If I was initially underwhelmed by the previous fashion choice then this look did more than simply overwhelm me; it devastated me and left me gaping. The! Hair! The black on black silhouette! The way he flawlessly transitioned from being youthfully boyish and bursting with charm to a domineering presence of matured angles and sharp zeal!! Wang Yibo with an undercut and draped in matte black Fendi is enough to score through my bingo card of styles I was unprepared for and yet thankfully blessed by. 

Some notes on the pieces in play:

While the Fendi blazer isn’t altogether spectacular and one of their more run of the mill items, the shirt beneath and the collection it was pulled from are interesting. The Spring/Summer 2021 Fendi line caters to the celebration of love and the surreal intensity of what a domestic experience quarantine and lockdown was like. The menswear was notably designed as “boardroom to boudoir” meaning that the concept was embellished loose linens which could be tucked into a business or formal setting only to later be tugged free and worn sweetly casual, bordering intimate. 

This is the shirt in it’s full glory. It isn’t something you would expect to be expertly tucked into the slim lines of Yibo’s stature and one can imagine how it must appear when it left to fall loose around his lean frame. It is a bed shirt in essence and was utilized in such a way that it looks like an entirely new garment on him.  

And now we move along to Xiao Zhan and his timeless and classic style.

A man of brand/designer solidarity, he is decked from head to toe in Gucci. I won a bet on this as I wagered he would absolutely be in his chosen favorite. The brooch is another staple in his fashion repertoire and is a Tiffany & Co. item. 

He appears very timeless in these classic and clean lines. This is a straight fit wool suit which Gucci favors in tailoring to accentuate slim and tall builds and as such drapes over Zhan’s body as if it were an extension of his body itself. The fit is that perfect. He strikes me as looking very refined and noble in this suit; mature and aloof. 

Some notes on the pieces in play:

Gucci has a reputation for constantly improving the way they tailor suits and as such this “relaxed straight fit” is exclusive to their label. Any other fashion house has slim fits, which are the original frame for this style, but entirely different in how Gucci has renovated the way it all fits and hangs. They alter jackets to be comfortably loose along the back of the neck while remaining pleasantly tucked to accentuate the lines of the shoulders, arms, and chest. The pants are brought in at the waist to make slim appear sleek, and the fall straight through the legs to provide the air of being relaxed. 

The brooch he is wearing, “Four Leaves” by Jean Schlumberger via Tiffany & Co, is an antique item as Schlumberger was alive from 1907 to 1987. Schlumberger is only one of four designers ever given allowance to sign their work to Tiffany & Co. He created the collection the “Four Leaves” brooch hails from at behest of a friend and fellow admirer of nature’s glory, Rachel “Bunny” Mellon. The irony of Xiao Zhan, resident rabbit,  wearing a piece created on the request of someone called Bunny is not lost to me and hopefully not any of you now that I’ve made mention of it. 

The gemstone in the brooch is blue-green tourmaline. Tourmaline has many different correspondences depending on the color at hand. Blue-green rouses luck and success and is often used to manifest goals, notably of a creative nature. It is also a crystal of peace and encourages the release of past hurts by bringing them to the surface to be healed via honest and heartfelt communication. Tourmaline can evolve as it is worn and will adhere to the wearer’s conviction, rousing the idea of living a life of integrity and accountability; inviting the wearer to accept any perceived flaws and weaknesses with easy tolerance. I am making this mention because every bit of this seems so incredibly in line with where Xiao Zhan is in life and in his career, especially in light of what he so graciously said on we*bo yesterday as we made it to a year since hell came for him. I am always very moved by this man. 

Here is the brooch just so you can have a proper look:

And that’s a wrap on We*bo Night’s lookbook! 

This is a bit of a messy post and I do apologize for that, but nevertheless I hope it was enjoyable and gave you some new insights on the way fashion fits together at every turn. 

[plant-flwrs]

christmas parties // draco malfoy

masterlist!

a/n: my christmas draco fic! i hope you guys like it! next up is george and then i have some wintery fic ideas for harry, ron, and hermione, among others ;) that should be out fairly soon if this motivation stays with me!! i’m honestly just happy to have some ideas back in me and to be able to post for you guys again <3 

(also, female implied reader in this one)

summary: You help Draco through his nerves about one of his parents’ Christmas parties.

(2.3k)

--------

There were some benefits of being a wealthy pureblood. For obvious reasons, but the only one you cared about was Draco Malfoy. 

Growing up with secret societies and odd loyalties sent you into a world of mistrust and anxiety. You never knew what was right and what was wrong, and you certainly knew you couldn’t always trust adults. 

The children you grew up with in this world were never one to share their secrets or trust, you included, but you lucked out. You met Draco Malfoy.

Once Draco realized he couldn’t treat you the way he treated others, he was at a loss with what to do with all the love he felt for you. He had never had someone so loving in his life, and he wanted to do anything he could to show you he loved you just as much. So, he opened himself up to you.

You saw it happening slowly over time. The moments he would confidently take your hand in the hall, the small amounts of public affection he found himself doing, the kindness he afforded others. You had changed him.

You had changed him into the person who could look at you with glassy eyes, clutching a tie in his hands with white knuckles, pleading you to attend his parents’ Christmas Ball with him.

You had been invited, your family had been invited. But what Draco wanted from you was something else. He wanted you on his arm. He wanted you to not leave his side. He wanted you to protect him. You swelled.

At some point, he had stumbled over to his bed, much too large for five people, let alone one teenage boy, and hung his head. His white hair fell over his forehead, blocking most of his face from you. The tie he held tightly just a moment ago was now falling from his limp hands. 

You moved over to him, crouching so you could see his face beneath his overgrown hair-no doubt his mother would want it cut soon- and placed your hands on his knees gently.

“I know it’s a lot to ask-” 

“No, no it’s not- of course I’ll go with you.”

Draco’s eyes finally met yours, and the moisture in them had trailed down his cheeks. Draco didn’t cry when he was angry or sad, he only cried when he was debilitatingly anxious. You lifted your warm palms to his cold and wet cheeks, letting your hands soothe away his tears.

He leaned down slowly as if he was afraid you were going to move away and fell into your shoulder. His head turned so his face was pressed against your neck and you could feel his breathing slow and his heart calm.

“It’s in a few hours,” he said, meeting your eye with a guilty expression, “I could ask mother to send for a dress back home, or if you’d like I’m sure she would have something you could wear.”

“Whatever you think is best,” you said soothingly, hoping he wouldn’t get worked up again about a detail as small as your dress.

Draco had decided to ask his mother for something for you to wear, which you were silently grateful for. Narcissa always liked you, and you always thought she had the most beautiful dresses. 

“Do you like blue, dear?” she asked you as you followed her into one of the many rooms in their house, one that seemed to be her closet.

“Yes,” you answered politely, finding yourself wanting to please her like any other child in your situation would. She was your boyfriend’s mother, but she was also a very prominent member of a very notorious family. She had standing in society with a husband who provoked fear in many, but her signature Black family eyes lingered on you as if she didn’t care about any of that. She looked happy.

“Ah,” she plucked a silky and fluid dress from a rack full of expensive dresses, handing it to you as if it were something as simple as a t-shirt, “this is the one.”

“Thank you,” you said, looking between her and the dress with wide eyes.

“Don’t tell Draco this,” she mock-whispered to you, leaning in with a smirk threatening her tight lips, “I had hoped he would ask you to this Ball. I bought that dress for him to give to you.”

Your eyes somehow widened and you closed your mouth when you realized your jaw had dropped. You swallowed heavily, trying to remember the years of wealth and poise that had been trained into your blood since you were born.

“That is-” you faltered, wanting to give in and throw your arms around her neck and wish her a merry Christmas, “-that’s incredibly kind. Thank you.”

You hoped your loosened smile showed her your true feelings, and she looked as though it had. She ducked her head for a moment, as if she was being watched and needed to compose herself, and gave you a wide smile. Her teeth were showing, and your eyes widened at the foreign look of happiness on her face. She was back to a tightlipped smile though, leaving you alone in the room and closing the door so you could get dressed. 

You folded your clothes, replacing them with the dress that must have been the most expensive thing you had ever worn. You were no stranger to wealth, but this was an entirely new sensation; you felt royal.

A house elf collected you, and once it opened the door, you heard the party in full swing. Draco waited at the top of the stairs, his back stiff and his jaw set. He had his finest robes on, making the already lavish robes he had worn when he took you to the Yule Ball look like nothing. Granted, you were also wearing something that couldn’t even compare to your Yule Ball dress. 

The elf left you once you met Draco, his eyes finding yours with a familiar urgency. He was still nervous. You smiled kindly as the elf continued down the hallway, knowing Draco wouldn’t say a word until you were both alone. The elf turned the corner, and Draco put his hands on your hips as if he was steadying himself. You put your hands over his, reminding him he was steady.

“You look-” Draco seemed to relax for a moment, taking a step towards you and making careful notion to not step on the dress, “-you look amazing. Truly, you look beautiful.”

You knew Draco had more he wanted to say, but couldn’t. You smiled softly at him, lifting one of your hands to fall on the collar of his robes. You straightened it gently, biting your bottom lip. 

“You look very handsome,” Draco flushed at your soft voice, his head falling foreword in a relieved laugh that sounded like a puff of air forcing itself from his lungs.

“Yeah?” he looked up at you, bringing his hands from your waist to the back of your neck.

His cold hands splayed across your neck, tucking under your hair and pressing into the back of your scalp. You gasped at the feeling, leaning closer to Draco. Your lips were closer, less than inches apart.

“Yeah,” you sighed, realizing Draco was closing the distance.

It was brief, like Draco only needed to remember you were real and not something he had made up, but it still made your head spin. You broke apart, the air between you warmer than the rest of the house.

Descending down the stairs, you straightened your back and stiffened all the right parts of yourself, knowing exactly how to survive one of these parties. The more Draco softened to you, it seemed he softened to the rest of the world. You were able to put up your mask around these people, but easily slid it off when needed. Draco didn’t have the same flexibility yet. So, you helped him. You adorned your tight-lipped smile and unnerving eyes, giving cold looks to strangers and intimidating looks to people you knew. It was how these people worked. You hated it, but you had to admit you were one of them.

You were on Draco’s arm the whole night, though sometimes it felt he was on yours. You took the hard questions about school, the sneers at the mention of Dumbledore and any other house besides Slytherin. You talked politics in a way that would be approved of and didn’t cast a second glance at the house elves serving food and drinks. You could tell Draco was itching to whisper them a ‘thank you’; it warmed your heart dangerously.

Eventually, Narcissa and Lucius found you both, as if they were checking that you and Draco were staying in your place.

“Draco,” Lucius sneered, though his lip relaxed when his eyes glanced over at you. “Y/n,” he said coldly.

Lucius had yet to fully approve of you, and you could tell you confused him. He saw you at social functions and knew you were just like any other pureblood, just as cruel, but he also saw your effect on his son. Draco avoided his gaze, his eyes cast downwards at your linked arms. You jostled him subtly, unnoticed by his parents, like a reminder you were still there. 

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy,” you said sweetly with the same cold eyes, no sign of warmth or happiness that would usually be there.

“Are you two having fun?” Narcissa asked, leaning forward to the both of you.

The question was unexpected, making Lucius and Draco look at her in surprise. Her eyes stayed on you though, the corners of her lips turned up in the slightest.

“I think we are, yes,” you said, looking at Draco with a small smile.

“We are,” Draco agreed, his tone dull but his eyes bright as he looked back at you. 

“I hope you’re mingling. It’s rude to stay to oneself at a party,” Lucius said calmly with a threatening tone, an eyebrow quirked as if he awaited his son’s smile to drop.

It didn’t, and he looked his father in the eyes, “We are, mingling, I mean.” Draco said confidently.

You noticed Narcissa’s smile grow the smallest bit. You wondered then how similar you were to her. Perhaps she had the same warmth you did, underneath the pureblood exterior. Maybe Draco was more willing to your warmth than Lucius seemed to be to hers.

“Good,” Lucius mumbled, walking away with his staff by his side.

“You two can sneak away early if you’d like. I know how boring these parties can get,” Narcissa whispered to you, ignoring her son’s rapidly softening face. 

You only smiled knowingly at her, hoping once again it communicated all that you couldn’t say at a party like this. She nodded and walked away, following her husband.

“That was-” you turned to Draco, smiling wider at his incredibly relaxed face, “-that wasn’t bad.”

Draco gave you a curt nod as if he hadn’t wanted to say much about it. You squeezed his arm comfortingly, pulling him along to another group of people to mingle with. 

Eventually, Draco’s mother’s words seemed to sink into him. He was pulling you away from the crowd, and you could see him trying to hide a wide grin. 

He lead you to the large French doors that gave way to the garden, not hesitating as he pushed them open. The cold winter was harsh against your exposed skin, and Draco looked worried when he heard you wince. He smiled again though, upon seeing your clutching at your arms, and slid his coat from his shoulders. He wrapped you in it, which you accepted gratefully, and looked admiringly at him in the white billowy shirt he wore underneath. 

His pale skin was bright under the moonlight, making his hair seem even more silver than blonde. His shirt complimented his skin too, bringing out the olive undertones. He wrapped an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. For once, he oozed warmth and you latched onto it, curling into his side as he walked you out into the garden.

You stopped at the center of it all, where a large Christmas tree had been planted. It was decorated with tinsel and ribbons and large glass ornaments. The colors varied from silver to green and black, a true Slytherin tree. You smiled at it, admiring the colors and swelling with house pride.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” Draco whispered from beside you, his arm wrapping somehow tighter around you.

“I had a nice time,” you whispered back, tilting your head up and settling it on his shoulder.

“You’re good at these things,” Draco said thoughtfully, his hand tucking itself underneath the jacket on you and resting his hand on the bare skin of your arm, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d probably be miserable,” you joked, smiling.

Draco looked down at you with a funny expression you couldn’t read, but it looked sincere, “Yeah, I would be.”

You breathed deeply, realizing you could hear the music from inside. It was a slow classical song, similar to the ones that had been playing all night. Draco moved you so you were chest to chest, pulling one of your hands to rest on his shoulder while the other stayed in his. His free hand went to your waist, still under the jacket, and he began to move you both.

You danced, basked in the subtle light coming from inside with reflections from the glass ornaments and the tinsel reflecting onto you both. Draco had a flash of green across his face, and you saw a sliver of silver across your arm. 

He moved you slowly, holding you close to him. Your cheek rested against his chest, breathing him in and relishing his warmth.

“Happy Christmas, Draco,” you whispered, looking up at him.

“Happy Christmas, my love,” he whispered, his mouth moving against your forehead as he placed a sweet kiss there. 

[livesincerely]

keepsakes

Also on Ao3

00000

Davey stops and stares, absolutely stunned.

“Jack,” he breathes.

“Hi, Davey,” Jack quietly greets, hands tucked deep into the pockets of his jacket.

“You...” Davey swallows around a sudden lump in his throat, a hand braced against the doorframe in an attempt to steady himself. “What are you doing here?”

“I got the address from Les,” Jack says, rocking a little on his feet. “I’m in town for the week visiting Ma and Charlie, thought I could swing by and see you for a sec.”

“Oh,” Davey says, still trying to process the fact that Jack is here, that Jack’s actually here, standing outside of Davey’s door. His hair’s a touch shorter, his skin a bit tanner, but he’s still Jack.

He’s still Jack.

“So, uh, can I come in?” Jack asks.

“Oh, right.” Davey gives himself a little shake, then takes a step back and holds the door open wider. “Yeah, sure. Please, come in.”

“You moved out of the old place,” Jack comments as his eyes rove around Davey’s modest entry and living room, and his tone is casual but the words are weighted with an unspoken question.

“It was a bit too much for just one person,” Davey says, averting his eyes. “A smaller apartment is easier to keep up with.”

He doesn’t mention that he hadn’t been able to afford the rent for their old apartment by himself, or that even if he had been, all the reminders of their life together, all the hollowed out spaces Jack had left in his wake—the places he used to be but isn’t anymore—would’ve driven him away regardless.

“Can I get you anything?” Davey asks after a brief pause. “Soda or coffee or...?”

“Coffee would be great, actually,” Jack says. “But, uh, only if it won’t put ya out.”

“It’s no trouble,” Davey says. “Here, go ahead and sit down and I’ll fix you a cup.”

He leaves Jack to pull up a stool at the counter while he pulls two mug out of the cabinet, turning on the coffee maker with a quick press of a button.

“So, how have you been?” Davey asks, careful to keep his head down and his voice light as he waits for the coffee to brew. “How’s Santa Fe been treating you?”

“‘S good,” Jack says. “It’s great, it’s got everything: clear skies, gorgeous sunsets. If you go out to the desert at the right time of day the views are unreal. So, uh, life’s pretty good.”

“And work’s going well?”

“Real well,” Jack confirms. “Now that I’ve been there a while they’re startin’ to give me my own projects to work on, which is great. Nerve racking, and I’m constantly terrified that I’m gonna fuck it all up, but great. Honestly, the studio space and the stipend I get for supplies on its own is pretty incredible, let alone all the experience and connections I’m getting too. So, yeah, things are goin’ well.”

“That’s great, Jack,” Davey says, even as his heart gives a painful little lurch. “I’m glad things are working out for you.”

“Couldn’t ask for much more,” Jack responds, and the way he says it is strange—strange enough that Davey risks a glance at his face. But Jack’s expression is flat and impassive, giving nothing away. “How’re you doin’, Davey?”

“Good,” Davey says, turning back to the coffee maker. “I’ve been good.”

“Yeah?” Jack asks. “Anythin’ interestin’ goin’ on?”

“Just the same old, same old,” Davey replies. “Nothing new to tell, honestly.”

“Nothing at all?” Davey can’t tell if Jack sounds disappointed or relieved. “Did you ever end up gettin’ that transfer you wanted?”

“I, uh, rescinded the request after you— after everything,” Davey answers, watching the the coffee bubble and drip, his chest tight. “There wasn’t really a need, and it was easier to just stay at my old branch.”

“Oh,” Jack says. 

The silence stretches between them, stiff and heavy and awkward. Instead of coming up with something to fill it, Davey busies himself with serving up their coffee, fixing one mug with his usual creamer, then the other with even more cream and a heaping spoonful of sugar, which he sets gently in front of Jack.

“Here you go,” he murmurs. 

Davey takes a small sip of his own coffee, trying to decide what’d be worse: asking Jack another question and having to listen to him talk about how wonderful and perfect his life in Santa Fe has been or just sitting there quietly and trying to pretend like this whole situation isn’t agonizing. 

He tries, “So, um, have you had the chance to—”

“What the fuck, Davey?” Jack bites out. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Davey freezes, eyes wide. Jack’s holding his mug in both hands—like he was about to take a drink and got distracted halfway there—and the look on his face is one of absolute fury. 

“Why do you still have this?” Jack demands, setting it down so hard that a bit of coffee sloshes over the side. “Why would you keep—?”

Davey looks, and then he realizes. The mug is a simple, sturdy thing, bigger than most of his other ones so he doesn’t have to refill it as often. He’d grabbed it out of habit—it’s always sitting near the front of the cabinet because of how often he uses it, and he honestly hadn’t thought anything of it.

But now he’s seeing what Jack sees: the trellis of flowers that encircle the rim, painstakingly painted by a careful hand in yellows, golds, and blues. Remembers the smell of the clay and the rainbow wall of glaze, remembers the satisfied grin that had turned so sheepish and shy when they returned a few days later to pick up their creations, remembers the flutter in his stomach as he reached out for the surprise gift, remembers the thrill of electricity when their fingers brushed…

Davey swallows.

“Why wouldn’t I keep it,” he says in as even a tone as he can manage. “It’s mine, isn’t it?”

“Oh, so that’s where you draw the line, huh?” Jack says, and his voice his like the rumble before a storm rolls in. “That’s how it is? Knick knacks, keepsakes, sure, those you’ll keep around, but the stuff that’s actually worth having? That’s actually worth fighting for? You can just let all that go without ever sayin’ a fuckin’ word otherwise because who gives a shit—”

And suddenly Davey’s furious too.

“Right, because you were so fucking eager to stay?” he asks with a derisive scoff. “Give me a break, Jack, you couldn’t wait to leave. Just fucked off to the other side of the country and left me here to pick up the pieces—”

“You were all but pushing me out the fucking door!” Jack yells, throwing his hands up. “‘It’s a wonderful opportunity, Jackie,’ ‘You’d be an idiot not to take it, Jackie,’ ‘It’s what you’ve always dreamed of, Jackie!’ What a load of horseshit—”

“Oh, so it’s my fault for being supportive?’ Davey asks, incredulous. “Are you serious?”

“I’m just sayin’, you weren’t exactly bent outta shape at the thought of me leavin’,” Jack says coldly. “Didn’t seem to bother you one fuckin’ bit. Probably relieved to finally have an excuse to get rid of me—”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Davey hisses, stepping forward until they’re standing nearly chest to chest. “I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe, missed you every single goddamn second of the last eight months, don’t think for a moment that I didn’t, you fucking asshole.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jack asks, chin lifted in challenge. “If you missed me so fucking much, then why’d we break up?”

“Because you were moving to Santa Fe!” Davey yells, completely fed up. “You were leaving, Jackie! What else was I supposed to do, except let you go and try my best to be happy for you?”

“If you really wanted me to be happy,” Jack growls, “you would’ve come with me.”

“You didn’t ask me to come with you!”

“And you didn’t ask me to stay!” Jack roars back.

“Ask you to stay? Ask you to stay?” Davey says, a wave of emotion stinging at his eyes, a note of hysteria shredding his voice, something aching and frenzied clawing at his chest. “Of course I didn’t fucking ask you to stay, I was never going to ask you to stay! It was Santa Fe, it was all you ever fucking talked about, it was your dream, Jack! It was everything that you wanted! I would never even suggest that you give that up, God, what kind of shit-ass person do you think I am, that you thought I would ever, ever try to stand between you and Santa Fe when I know how important it is to you—?”

“I’m not fucking hearing this,” Jack says, with a frantic, jerky shake of his head. “I am not fucking hearing this. I— You—“

He rakes a hand haphazardly through his hair, the other pointed accusingly at Davey’s chest, jaw clenched and eyes glittering. His throat works silently for a moment, two moments, then he turns on his heel and storms out, the apartment door slamming behind him with a thunderous bang!

And Jack’s gone, tearing right back out of Davey’s life like he’d never returned in the first place, the abandoned coffee mug the only evidence that he’d ever been there at all.

And Davey’s alone, his heart pounding a lurching, deafening beat in his ears, the churning, curdling, swirling feeling in his gut a perfect mirror to how he’d felt all those months ago, quietly, impossibly heartbroken as he watched Jack walk away.

Davey takes a shivering, shuddering breath, scrubbing a trembling hand across his mouth. Fuck.

He might’ve been standing there for thirty seconds or thirty minutes when the front door swings open again. Davey’s head whips up just in time to see Jack step inside, closing the door behind him with a soft, purposeful click. Then he can only watch as Jack stalks forward, eyes blazing, fists his hands in the front of Davey’s shirt, and drags him into a bruising, desperate kiss. 

“I love you,” Jack says. “I love you. I loved you before I got the job offer, I loved you while I was searching for apartments and planning the move, I loved you every time I talked up Santa Fe to you, tryin’ to convince you to come with me any way I could think of. I loved you when we broke up, I loved you when I left, I loved you when I landed, and it’s been eight fucking months and I’m still so fucking in love with you—”

Davey interrupts him with another heart stopping kiss, threading his fingers in Jack’s hair as he pulls him closer. They still fit together so perfectly, lips and teeth and tongues all moving together like they’d never been parted, and its so good that Davey could almost cry with it because he’d never thought he would have this again.

“I love you too, Jackie,” Davey promises. “I love you and I’ve missed you so much—”

“I missed you,” Jack says, punctuating the declaration with another kiss. “You’re it for me Davey. There’s just you. And I… I can’t give this up again. Santa Fe ain’t worth nothin’ if you’re not there with me.”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Davey murmurs, and its a confession and an apology. “I thought I had to let you go.”

Jack shakes his head. 

“I wanted you to keep me,” he whispers against Davey’s lips. “And I wanted to keep you too.”

“Then keep me,” Davey says. He realizes now, that it’s as simple as that. “Keep me.”

00000

Jack’s pov here

Tag List!: @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside @corbinthecowboy @stroopwafeldetective

[mypoisonedvine]

First Chanukah Together (Night 1) | Ari Levinson x reader

summary: you want your first chanukah with ari to be perfect— and it is, just not in the way you expected.

word count: 782

warnings: basically just pure fluff, although there is the slightest hint of hurt/comfort

a/n: I tried to leave it ambiguous if the reader has jewish heritage or not— this series isn’t about ari teaching a goy reader about chanukah, but it’s also not about a jewish reader engaging in something she already knows everything about, because I want anyone to be able to read this and find something they relate to in it!  also, many people celebrate the holiday differently and this is just based on my own experiences!  

You were trying to be subtle about it, so he’d still be surprised by whatever gifts you managed to find for him, but Ari was incredibly difficult to shop for.  He worked so hard, and honestly you weren’t entirely sure what he did when he wasn’t working.  Home goods would probably go to waste with him living on the road and in Mossad safehouses for weeks on end; clothes were tough because he didn’t dress up very often, again, because of work; and, unfortunately, food was a waste because he very rarely splurged on carbs and sugar in pursuit of that hulking, muscular figure he managed to maintain.  

Seemed like most anything you got him would just end up residing in your own apartment, making it more a gift for yourself than him.  And you didn’t even know if he planned to get you anything, which didn’t really matter in one sense because it was about giving and not receiving, but also did matter in another sense because you didn’t want him to feel awkward or obligated.

I’m probably getting ahead of myself, you realized.  Gift-giving is a pretty new tradition, he may not want to do it at all.

So, you waited for a quiet breakfast to ask him your question and hope it sounded random and not calculated at all.  “Are you one of those people who gives gifts on Chanukah?” you mumbled while he read his newspaper.

“Depends,” he shrugged without looking up from the business section.  “When I’m stateside, yes.  In Israel I just eat sufganiyah and cheap chocolate coins.”

Okay, so that wasn’t helpful at all.  He was spending the holiday with you in America so that was a sign he did want to exchange gifts, but maybe when he said ‘stateside’ he just meant when he was with his parents in America, and not you?  

So, you decided against buying him a few cute sweaters and a book or two and chose instead to focus on cooking fabulous traditional foods.  Might as well take advantage of his cheat week while you could, right?

Wrong.  Turns out sufganiyah are super hard to make.  You kept burning yourself with pops of hot oil, the first three packets of yeast you tried to bloom had apparently died, your dough didn’t rise properly and, best of all, you’d managed to cook them at just the right temperature such that they were burnt on the outside and raw in the middle.

You’d had a whole plan for him to come home to a beautifully-decorated apartment with you looking all gorgeous and domestic in the kitchen, ready to serve him the products of your labor.  Instead, he opened to door to find you standing in the middle of an enormous mess— flour strewn all over the countertops and floor, random bowls and spoons piled up, and blobs of spilled jam smeared on various surfaces including your favorite blue apron— already on the verge of tears as you contemplated the charred, deformed remains of your attempt at sufganiyah.

“Babe, is everything okay?” he asked softly as he let the door fall shut, watching your lip begin to shake as your eyes watered.

“Chag urim sameach,” you weakly greeted before bursting into tears, hiding your face in jam-and-flour-covered hands. 

“Oh, baby,” he cooed as he dashed across the room to pull you into his arms, “it’s okay, sweetheart, don’t cry.”

You clutched his chest as you cried into his shirt, your words near incomprehensible between sniffles and shaky sobs.  “I was just trying to make sufganiyah… I thought it might remind you of h-home but they’re really hard and I made a huge mess and I burnt everything and—”

“Stop, stop,” he shook his head, pulling back so you’d look up at him.  “You wanted to remind me of home?”

“Yeah, Jerusalem,” you clarified, “you say you love it there so much, and I just thought—”

“Baby,” he chuckled, “I’m already home.”

“...in America?” you pressed.

“With you.  Wherever you are, that’s home,” he explained, planting a soft kiss on your forehead as his warm hands cradled your face.  

You smiled a little as you sniffled again, quickly wiping the tears from your face as you hugged him tighter.  Although cleaning the kitchen with Ari hadn’t exactly been your original idea for your first Chanukah with him, it turned out to be more fun than it sounded like it would be.  He had you order takeout while he finished the rest of the cleaning— and maybe eating Thai on the couch while watching a taped episode of Dallas wasn’t the most traditional first night, but it was somehow better than what you’d imagined anyhow.

[thedevildomdaily]

Demonic Possessions Ch 8: Pizza, Prizes, & Panic

Note: Here’s the Master List for the full story. I recommend reading my stuff on my actual Blog if you enjoy OM! official music! Thank you so much for the support. Please let me hear from you in the comment section. I wanna talk OM!

If you follow this page, you're seeing things correctly! There were in fact TWO chapters posted this week. It's a 'thank you' for being understanding about my hiatus. I appreciate the support.

Warnings: Swearing, NSFW implied, light stuff

Saturday morning arrived and The House of Lamentation was on the quieter side. No arguing nephilim or brotherly squabbles to grate on another’s nerves. Early risers like Lucifer, Satan, and Beelzebub were in the dining room awaiting Lilly’s breakfast. The four of them were always the first ones up, leaving the other half to crawl out at various times.

After giving the typical 30 minute wait, Lilly gave the go-ahead for Beel to dig in. She’d learned long ago not to serve all the food at once on the weekend, preparing for stragglers vs Beelzebub’s appetite. She did find it unusual that Leviathan was missing. He must have pulled an all-nighter waiting for some special or doing a special walk-through for Deviltube.

*************

Leviathan opened his eyes slowly. He was so exhausted and felt on the heavy side. There was also this nagging feeling that someone was talking about him.

Shuffling around in his bathtub bed, the demon realized that it wasn’t his imagination that made him feel heavy. It was the nephilim snuggling on top of him that was passed out.

The female nephilim just about fell off the bench as she grasped at her own heart. Of course he’d say something extremely otaku in this situation. And after a moment to think on this, she nodded as she stared straight ahead, “I'm not seeking-out multiple relationships intentionally. But I can't deny the temptation of that fantasy either..." she chuckled, "You know what Levi-kun. That’s exactly it. I want a reverse harem life. I spent centuries vying for suffrage right. Letting women take a stand for equality. Voting, working jobs outside the home, and for fucks sake the right to wear some jeans! So why can’t I have a harem on my own when Mr. King Solomon saunters around, leaving a city’s worth of women back home!!!!!!?!”

“Mmmmh…” Lena nuzzled against his chest, making Leviathan’s heart want to explode from all of this contact. He suddenly recalled a lot of sounds like that just now as well.

“Lena...you’re on top of me…” he said a little louder.

Her sky blue eyes slowly peeked open. A view of a blushing demon beneath her slowly became clearer. “Oh, good morning Levi…” Her left hand ran up his firm abs, caressing him sensually as she nuzzled him again. “You’re so comfortable to snuggle with. I think I slept better on top of you than I did in Asmo’s bed the other night.” There was a soft giggle and she closed her eyes again.

Leviathan didn’t know what to make of that statement or the state in which they were in. Pulling his blanket down from them, he realized Lena wasn’t wearing her shirt and neither was he. Images of her stripping him of his signature hoodie and undershirt flashed before his eyes. She kissed his chest and ran her tongue across…and he dared to remove her top! The bra...it was his hair color!

“Aaaagh!” he shouted in a panic.

“What’s the matter!?” Lena raised up, completely straddling him. She looked around the room and everything looked fine. She then looked down at the demon beneath her. “Are you okay? You’re not sick are you?”

“N-nooo….” he murmured, covering his crimson face with his hands.

She looked at him curiously for a moment, then realized what was going on. It was the shock of spending the night with someone. He probably thought he dreamed it all. How adorable could Leviathan get?

Setting-up completely, the nephilim looked down at him, then ran both hands up his torso, feeling that ripped, swimmer’s body of his. Gently, she removed his hands and asked for him to look at her. “Leee-vi kuuun….” His eyes opened. She was so sexy and beautiful; her eyes were hypnotizing.

“Wasn’t last night fun?” she asked. Levi nodded rapidly.

“I-it was fun.A LOT of fun…” he admitted. It made Lena giggle.

She took his hands and brought them up to her waist. “Levi-kun. You know now you can touch my body all that you want right? In fact I really want you to.”

Absent-mindedly, Leviathan felt up and down her sides and even dared to grip the nephilim’s ass. It was so firm, yet soft at the same time. It made her gasp and bite her bottom lip.

Lena lowered herself back down on him, pressing her breasts against his bare chest. “Your hands are so big and strong. You’re so incredibly sexy…”

He doubted that wholeheartedly, and yet there was a half-naked 3D woman, the prettiest he’d ever met on top of him. “L-Lena…” He moaned lightly as she kissed his chest again.

“I’d love to continue where we left off last night, but I probably have morning breath…” she pouted at him, but kissed his chest again. “Want to shower together?”

The question caused the demon to fully sit up and nearly toss the nephilim backwards. The sheer thought of him being naked and wet with her was more than any close-in otaku could take. As a precaution, Levi pinched his nose, knowing blood would gush out.

“No Lena….don’t say things like that!!!!” He whimpered.

She couldn’t help but give an evil little chuckle, “You don’t want to? But last night you dove face-first into my tiddies with an itadakimasu. I thought you’d love to get wet and wild with me today!!”

Truth was, although they did make out a lot and he did carry her to his bed. It took a moment, but Levi mustered up the courage to take off her shirt. He kissed and rubbed his face into her boobs, and then he went for the unhooking of the bra.

It was the saddest struggle she’d ever been involved with. He then cried into her chest after all the failed attempts and passed out. If he couldn’t recall that travesty, Lena wasn’t about to refresh his memory. She’d surprise him and not wear one next time. Or maybe she had a front-opening one for starters?

“Don’t tease me about it…” he whined, “I really went beyond my limits last night…”

“Plus ultra babe…” She couldn’t hold back her smirk.

“Stop it!”

“Never. It’s not my way of the ninja…”

“You’re not funny.”

****************

After playing around with Leviathan a little while longer, Lena urged him downstairs. They were both ravenous after all the fun they had the night before.

The two of them entered the dining room and felt eyes upon them. ALL eyes.

“WHAT. THE. HELL!!!!?” Asmo squealed at the top of his lungs.

Mammon, on the other hand, was silent. Dead silent. The rest gave the two of them a once over, save for Beelzebub. He did pause, but his dire need for food out-weighed any curiosity he held for the reason that Lena was a disheveled mess in Leviathan’s hoodie.

“Ah-hmm....I take it a congratulations big brother are in order?” Satan asked in a catty manner as he sipped his cup of coffee.

Leviathan was tomato red and his teeth were clenched. He had no idea how to respond to any of this, but somehow he had the urge to fight everyone if they said anything to Lena.

“Maybe so…” Lena said nonchalantly as she led Levi to his seat, holding his hand. She sat in the empty seat beside him, acting completely calm.

“You guys look so cute together, although I’m totally jealous and wish I could’ve joined the fun last night…” Asmo chimed. Lena giggled at him, but Levi gave him a glare. He’d never share her like that.

Finally, Lucifer had something to say on the matter. “Leviathan. Either ask for your jacket back or find another high neck top to put on later. Your love bites are unseemly…”

“My wha?”

Most of the brothers began to chuckle as Levi looked down. Mammon was roaring at his little brother the most.He was in his low neck tank. Lena had given him hickies all over and he never checked himself over for any.

“W-why didn;t you say anything?...” he asked the nephilim.

“Oh, I thought you knew…” she responded nonchalantly, “I mean, did you see the ones you left on me?”

Mammon wrapped his arm over his brother’s shoulder and pulled him over in a brotherly manner, “I’m happy for you lil bro. If you need any advice, just ask The Great Mammon. I’ll help you out!”

“What advice could you possibly give?” Belphegor called out to Mammon.

“What d’ya mean by that you lil brat?!” Mammon responded.

A lot of bickering began around the table. Leviathan was so embarrassed until a firm hand squeeze brought him to look at Lena.

She merely gave Leviathan a wink and continued to eat her breakfast. This made his face glow, but he managed a small smile. It also gave him enough courage to ignore his brothers through the rest of their meal.

***********

“So did you guys go all of the way?” Asmodeus was the first to ask. He followed the girls to Lilly’s room where they both got ready for the day. And of course they talked about the hottest gossip the house has had in a long time.

“That’s none of your business Mister!” Lena responded as she sorted between outfits.

Lilly lectured the demon for being too nosy, but they both watched a happy Lena decide on her clothes. The two smiled at each other, giving a knowing look.

“I can’t help but to ask,” Lilly finally spoke up, “What was he like?” Asmo perked-up, ready to learn everything.

Lena sighed, but her smile remained, “He was so sweet. Definitely terrified. But the way he kissed was so...gentle…” She gave a little sigh. “I honestly feel both happy and guilty at the same time.”

“How so?” Lilly asked.

Lena furrowed her brows, trying to find a way to describe it. “He was so nervous. But I find him so cute. And I feel guilty that I liked him...squirming around a bit. I’ve seldom been with a submissive male before. Or a nervous one.”

“You like it. So what?” Asmo commented, “There’s nothing wrong with that. No force was there?”

“Of course not. I even bluntly asked for consent and he pulled me into his lap!” Lena’s eyes widened and she covered her hand over her mouth for a moment. ‘You two better not say anything about this to anyone. You hear me!” Her eyes began to glow with killing intent, leaving both the demon and human nodding. “Good.”

Lilly thought about things for a moment, before asking a serious question, “Are the two of you dating now?...are you a couple?”

The nephilim thought about for a moment before responding, “Well, we really didn’t do a lot of talking about it...things just happened…”

“Do you want to be in a relationship with him? You definitely need to be upfront and talk with Levi about it before going forward with anything.” Lilly just wanted her new friend and Levi to remain happy and on the best of terms as possible.

Asmo, for the first time, looked at Lena with a serious expression. “Lilly is right. You need to talk to my brother about this as soon as possible. I’m the last person to be serious about this kind of thing, but Leviathan is the Avatar of Envy; the Admiral of the Devildom’s navy and when he’s mad enough he can summon Lotan to drown and destroy nearly everything in its path. Be careful.”

Lena took their words seriously. She really didn’t think things through before starting things with him. They had valid and, to be honest, horrifying points.

“I believe I’ve mentioned this to the both of you at one point or another. I’m not the type to be held down to one great romance. Not after my last relationship. And NO. I do not want to talk about that. Not ever!” She closed her eyes and sighed, “The best I can do is be honest with him and let him know that. I want an open relationship and I won’t go any further with him if he can’t accept that. I’m not going to make false promises or put effort into something I don’t want.”

Her eyes fell upon Asmodeus. The two of them were rather flirtatious enough. And to be honest, that night she’d have definitely went all the way with him had she not been so intent and excited about the gifts she had for Leviathan. He smiled back at her, although there was a darker look to his eyes. He definitely sensed what was on her mind.

***********

“Levi-kun, let’s go on a lunch date today.” Lena said when she entered his room. Both he and Mammon were playing Luariogi-cart with Belphie asleep as he waited to play the winner.

The sudden request caused the otaku demon to crash; he was frozen. Of course Mammon shouted and cheered, taking the win and began to gloat about it and tease his little brother. Belphegor yelled at him for waking him up and threw his pillow at him.

“D-d-d...d-d-DATE!?” Leviathan stuttered, sounding like he was being electrocuted.

Lena giggled then picked Belphie’s pillow up and slammed it into Mammon for his laughter at Levi and then puffed it up and gave it back to Belphegor. “Yes, a date. I would like to go out with you today..to get more acquainted and to see where things go. I’ll meet you down in the Foyer in half an hour. Casual dating attire only. I want to go to the arcade for sure!” She winked at the demon and waved at everyone before leaving.

Levi was catatonic again. Mammon and Belphegor exchanged evil grins and let their brother stand there for a few minutes before saying anything.

“Don’t you need to get ready?” Belphegor asked in a knowing tone.

“Yeah, for your d-d-d-date!? Ha ha!” Mammon mocked.

This caused their brother to panic, then yell at them to leave. He had no idea what he should wear, what he was supposed to do or anything. It was an absolute nightmare for the reclusive demon. He never pictured himself in this situation. The closest thing he’d ever been to a date was when he went to themed cafes or idol concerts, admiring his favorites from afar.

**********************

When Leviathan began down the stairs to the foyer, he stopped the moment he laid eyes upon Lena. She was standing there, waiting on him, in a cute black dress that had glowing jellyfish on it. She wore purple stockings and goth boots. She matched her aesthetic to match his. It made him blush.

Lena was looking at her DDD, researching where they could go and what they could do together. She was admittedly nervous after the conversation she’d had with Lilly and Asmo earlier. Who knew dating a demon could be so dangerous?

Feeling eyes upon her, the nephilim looked up to see Leviathan frozen on the stairs, blushing and staring down at her. “Well, hello there gorgeous.” She smiled and winked at him. “You ready to have some fun today?!”

When he only nodded and stood there, Lena ran up the stairs to meet him and took his hand, “well then let’s go cutie!” and pulled him with her.

“C-c-cutie…” he whispered, smiling to himself.

***************

Lena and Leviathan decided to get Screamin Berry Swirl slushies and hit the arcade first. The nephilim decided to start with things the demon was both familiar and comfortable with. She truly wanted things to work between the two of them and she also didn’t want him to be on edge the whole time they were together.

“Are the top 10 scores on this game all yours?” she asked.

“Of course they are. I’ve dominated the scores since they got this in.” he boasted.

Lena smiled and joined in laughter with him. “My favorite arcade games back home are the Dino Park Disaster games where you have to take down carnivores and outrun stampedes. Pretty much any shooting arcade games. Oh and racing ones. Pinball games as well…”

Listening to her go into a list of favorite arcade games brought a strong sense of joy in Leviathan’s heart. She really knew her stuff. And it seemed she was genuinely interested in hearing about all of the achievements he held in the games at the arcade. It made him feel a connection to someone that he hadn’t before.

“Hey, look!” Lena jumped with excitement after picking-up a massive sci-fi gun to an alien shooter game. “This looks badass! Let’s play two-player!”

********************

“That was so much fun! Look at our ticket haul!” Lena exclaimed. She was definitely in the moment, having so much fun with Leviathan.

“That was the only game I didn’t have a high score because none of my brothers or anyone could keep up with me.” Levi added.

The two were sitting down at a booth, counting their mega stacks of tickets, eating pizza and cheesy bread. “We make a great team!” she cheered, making Leviathan blush as he slurped his slush. He thought so too.

“If there’s a way for us to play human realm MMORPGs and other games like that here in the Devildom, I have a few that we need to team-up in. I don’t like to play with strangers...can't rely on them too much. I have a couple of friends from school that play and I think you’d get along with them well enough…”

This felt like a dream. He was on a date with a 3D female. One that was enthusiastic about anime, manga, comics, collecting memorabilia, and video games. Leviathan just watched and listened to Lena while in a dreamy-like state of mind.

After a while, the nephilim realized she’d been the only one to talk. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I kinda went off the deep end with excitement there….”

“No, I totally wanted to know what games you play!” Levi chuckled, “It’s so cool to finally have someone that wants to talk about non-normie things! And I’m really curious about these human realm games.”

The two talked shop for a while longer, then cashed their tickets in. Lena got a giant stuffed purple dragon creature that actually puffed smoke from it’s nose and mouth. It had ominous, glowing eyes that was totally something Lena would choose. She also got a matching dragon wing headband.

Leviathan chose some more figurines and a wall scroll of a Devildom anime icon. It was on the more colorful and cute side. It was a funny dynamic to see a demon with cute items and a half angel with scary monster stuff.

“Levi...you’re having a lot of fun today aren’t you?” Lena asked as they exited the arcade. She was looking down at her boots as she walked, not wanting to look at the demon. She had been weary of bringing him out since he’d made it clear that he was a shut-in and hated leaving his room.

There was hesitation, but Levi nodded and looked to the girl at his side. “I am…” There was a split second pause before he panicked and asked, ‘Are you not?! I bet you were bored; just being nice at doing this because I'm just a worthless otaku nerd!” He began huffing and wheezing as Lena stared at him wide-eyed and confused.

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA dude. Chill!” She finally said, pressing her hand against his chest. She was sure he was about to have an actual panic attack and keel over. “Your brain is going into overdrive hun. I’ve had an absolute blast with you today. It’s been fun and refreshing and I’m loving getting to hang out with you.”

She wasn’t able to see his eyes, beyond the indigo bangs covering his face, but she could tell Leviathan was blushing and possibly staring down at her hand. She stepped in close and gave him a hug. “I would’ve been honest with you if I wasn’t having any fun. Trust me on that.” He nodded and hesitantly pressed his hand against her back, returning the hug. Lena couldn’t help but grin to herself at his trembling hand.

Pulling away, the nephilim took his hand and led him away from the Arcade, looking for a bench to sit on and watch a pretty fountain. It was the perfect atmosphere for their date she thought. A great place to talk quietly about their relationship.

“Levi, I want to be honest with you…” Lena began, “I want to talk about us...if you’d like there to be us.”

“Us…” he pondered for a moment and then bit his lip. Leviathan never thought he’d have a conversation like this. He’d never felt more nerve-wracking.

The nephilim gave him a moment to process before continuing, “Before we make any decisions, I want to be forward and honest with you. I think that’s the most important thing about a relationship. Keeping an open dialog with each other and always being honest about our feelings...ok?”

Leviathan was still reeling on the idea that there was a possibility for them to be an ‘us’. After she shook his arm to get his attention, the demon gasped and then nodded, “Uhm...yes. That’s good…”

“The thing I wanted to tell you first and foremost is where I stand on relationships in general.” She was beginning to feel nervous, thinking about Lilly and Asmo’s advice. “I believe in open relationships...especially since we are eternal beings...forever is a long time.”

The demon’s eye widened just enough that Lena could see them. He was still. “So you’re like Asmo….totally into being lots of other people…?”

“Well, comparing myself to the Avatar of Lust is a little extreme, but sorta.” Lena bit her bottom lip and shifted around uncomfortably. She was self-conscious about this part of herself, but nonetheless she wanted to be open with him. “I-I uh understand if it’s not something you’re okay with...it’s why I wanted to say something up front before we established a….deep connection…”

And there went Leviathan’s poor demonic heart again. Ready to yeet from his chest.

“You could totally see anyone you want to...both in reality or otherwise. However, I can’t promise you complete monogamy. It’s just not my nature. And I don’t want you to ever get upset if I choose to flirt and mingle with someone else.”

“So you are telling me...you’re interested in….living your life like…” Leviathan said quietly. Drawing it out made Lena’s eyes widen with anticipation. “Like a….REVERSE HAREM!?!”

The female nephilim just about fell off the bench as she grasped at her own heart. Of course he’d say something extremely otaku in this situation. And after a moment to think on this, she nodded as she stared straight ahead, “I'm not seeking-out multiple relationships intentionally. But I can't deny the temptation of that fantasy either..." she chuckled, "You know what Levi-kun. That’s exactly it. I want a reverse harem life. I spent centuries vying for suffrage right. Letting women take a stand for equality. Voting, working jobs outside the home, and for fucks sakes the right to wear some jeans! So why can’t I have a harem on my own when Mr. King Solomon saunters around, leaving a city’s worth of women back home!!!!!!?!”

Lena shook her fist in anger thinking about it. She could do what the fuck she wanted with whom the fuck she wanted damn it. “But in all seriousness. Levi…” she returned her attention to the demon, “I’m giving you the option of being my first ever demon lover. I will be as committed to you as I possibly can. You can’t even begin to imagine the benefits of that. You just have the right to know what you'd be getting into if you want to be in a relationship with me.”

She let him stew over those bold words for a while, resting her head on his shoulder gently as she watched the dancing waters before them. “I really like you Levi…”

“I...like you too Lena...chan.”

His head gently rested atop hers. The two sat in silence as the imitation sun of Diavolo’s slowly disappeared from the Devildom sky.

**************

It was dusk by the time Leviathan and Lena returned to The House of Lamentation. The two stood outside the front door like high-schoolers not wanting their date to end. Lena took both of Leviathan’s hands, while their prizes sat on the steps. “Thank you for a lovely date at the arcade today. It was a lot of fun.”

“Your welcome….” Leviathan was looking away from her, completely embarrassed. She was the one that asked him out and planned the whole day. He should thank her for even considering a date with someone like him.

Feeling that he was about to go deep into unsavory thoughts, Lena stood on her tiptoes and kissed the demon. It was soft and sweet. Just like him. “Hey, we can do more of what we did last night if...we can sneak past all of the others…”

Wide eyes stared at the nephilim. If there was something Leviathan wanted, it was definitely more of what they did last night. Just imagining the feeling of her….and the way she….and how they both…

Leviathan in his boldest move of his eternal life, grabbed their loot in one hand and took Lena by the other and raced inside the manor. No man, demon, nephilim, or ghostly was gonna keep this otaku from getting to feel 3D oppas again!

[lucas-koh]

Stitches - Bryce Lahela x MC X

Parts 1-9 linked in bio

Not entirely canon compliant but elements of canon - FWB.

Song: Electric Love - BØRNS

Rating: M, implied sex, sexual language, swearing

Word Count: 3677

Taglist: @lahellacute @lahamseiroshoe @anotherbeingsworld @fuseboxmusebox @choicesficwriterscreations @bubblelaureno @bratzlahela @eleanorbloom @bryceslahela @thegreentwin @kelseaaa || please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list

Chapter Ten: New Year, Same Situation

It turned out, in a blessing to Suki’s guilt, that Bryce had picked up extra shifts on Christmas. He didn’t seem fussed about it, so she guessed he just wasn’t the Christmas type. She’d caved and texted him back asking about his plans, and he’d told her. Apparently it brought a lot of the patients joy to have ‘such an incredibly handsome surgeon helping out’ (his words). There was still that regret that she hadn’t offered, though. And also a small part of her that just wishes he’d been there for the sake of being there.

She couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. Every aspect was jumbling about in her brain like the numbers in a lottery machine. The way he’d held her in all her layers against his bare skin, the steady, savouring movements of their lips against one another. The familiar yet brand new sensation, each nerve wired with the electricity spreading between them. It was intense. She was waiting for her number to be called to find out if she’d won: but what was the prize? Bryce..? She already knew him. But… more kisses? Honestly, thinking about it was giving her a headache.

The look on Bryce’s face. Narcotised, dumbfounded. She couldn’t stop seeing that face in her head, and every time she did her heart stopped and she wanted to kiss him like that again just to see it.

She wondered if Bryce had felt the same way about it, or if it had been only her. Because yeah, it had been a good kiss, he’d said as such afterwards. But had it been as earth-shattering for him as it had been for her? Had he felt that nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach and the ringing in his ears and the thrum of his heart? Was he thinking fuck the whole time? Or unable to think of anything beside her lips?

And it felt like now there was something pulling them together, she wanted him there any time she had a bad day to cradle her in his big arms and reassure her, she wanted him there to kiss her until she could barely speak or do anything else.

On Boxing Day, Elijah and Suki were serving themselves leftovers while Jackie sat on the sofa groaning through her fifth mimosa. Suki was wearing Bryce’s reindeer hoodie, because her own Christmas jumpers were ugly and tasteless, she told herself. Of course, no one else knew it was Bryce’s. Unless they knew his scent as well as she did. Suki didn’t even realise she was smiling until Elijah spoke.

“I’m glad you’re doing better,” Elijah smiled.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh- I mean, nothing. You just seem less stressed.”

Suki squinted her eyes. That wasn’t it. “Spill.”

“God, fine. I’m terrible at keeping things. Back in September, that night we watched movies? I talked to Bryce earlier that day and he told me to keep an eye on you, that you might’ve been needing a little extra love.”

So that was why Elijah was being like that. Bless him.

“That little-“

“He didn’t want you to think he was being weird and overbearing! That’s why he asked me. He barely knew us back then.”

Well, not exactly true. By that point we’d kissed in a supply closet.

“Did he say anything else?” Suki asked, suddenly worried about Bryce sharing their little secret. Then again, it had been months, and Elijah was terrible at keeping things. He wouldn’t have been able to go so long unnoticed. Suki had noticed his concerned looks at her, she just hadn’t known the meaning behind them.

“Um. No? I don’t remember.”

Well, it couldn’t have been that Bryce had told him, then.

“Okay.”

“But he was right. I don’t know how he noticed, but you were a little off for a time.” Elijah placed down the clippers he’d been using to serve himself some roast potatoes.

I mean, he noticed because he found me crying in the supply closet but we’ll leave that bit out.

“Yeah. Being a doctor is hard.”

“You got that right.”

—-

When New Year rolled around, all the roommates had returned to the apartment and were discussing their NYE plans.

“I don’t want to throw another party. Not after the last one.”

“It was fine! Farley didn’t even find out.”

“It got out of hand and it was stressful, can’t someone else throw a party?”

“Or we could go to Donahue’s…” Jackie suggested.

“No,” the others chorused.

“Fine, fine.”

“Donahue‘s is great but I’m not ringing in the new year there.”

“We spent Halloween there.”

“That’s different.”

“Is anyone working?”

Suki’s head was starting to hurt from the questions and overlap of voices. She wasn’t even fussed about having a big New Year celebration, she just wanted to be with her friends.

“Let’s just spend the new year by ourselves,” Suki breathed out after a while.

Jackie shrugged, seeming okay with the idea.

“But… what about our other friends?” Asked Elijah.

“Like who?” Said Aurora, “we don’t have other friends.”

“Not true! There’s that sweet paramedic Rafael who talks to me when he’s bringing patients in,”

“Sienna I don’t think that’s-”

“And I made friends with one of my patients, she’s called Kyra.” Elijah added.

“Have you all forgotten about Bryce? He’s annoying as fuck but he’s technically part of the group.”

“Gia from across the hall! She’s so lovely.”

“Gia has a kid, she won’t come.”

“What about that Landry kid who came to Donahue’s with us?”

“No. No.” Jackie made a gagging motion.

“It’s sounding like you guys want a party. Does anyone actually want a party?” Aurora asked.

The rest of them groaned uneasily. No one wanted a party.

“Fine, how about everyone has a plus one. Sienna, that way you can invite Rafael, Elijah can invite Kyra, Jackie can invite Bryce...” Aurora said calmly.

“Ew,” Jackie retorted.

“I kind of wanted to invite Danny…” Sienna trailed off.

“He can be my plus one,” Aurora offered.

“I’m not having Bryce as my plus one,” Jackie made a face of disgust.

“It’s not like having a plus one means anything. They’re not going to be handcuffed to you or something weird,” Aurora said.

“I don’t care. Suki can have him.”

“Why me?” She realised the rush and speed of her reply may have not been the most natural thing.

“Did you have any other options?”

“…no.”

“Sorted. I’ll invite that nice girl from down the hall as my plus one.”

“Huh?”

“Phoebe. The one you have a crush on,” Jackie directed her gaze to Elijah.

“…what??” Elijah looked completely taken aback. His mouth was agape and his eyes were wide.

So the group got to refining their plans, including the type of alcohol they’d buy, any decorations, timings, entertainment.

—-

For the first time, Suki was nervous about texting Bryce. After their kiss, she didn’t want to make things weird. Plus, he’d never replied to her when she’d asked him about New Years the week before.

Santa Fe: you free on ny?

Scalpel Jockey: depends why you’re asking

Santa Fe: we’re doing some kind of gathering at the apartment

Santa Fe: the others wanted you here

Scalpel Jockey: the others but not you? ouch

Santa Fe: 🙄you know what I meant

Santa Fe: are you free or not?

Scalpel Jockey: sure i’ll be there

—-

Everyone worked most of the time in the couple of days leading up to their get-together, so anything that was done in preparation was done in short bursts. On the 30th, Bryce texted again.

Scalpel Jockey: what’s this about handcuffs?😏

Santa Fe: what???

Scalpel Jockey: jackie said something about handcuffs and i for one am not complaining

Scalpel Jockey: i bumped into her at the hospital earlier and she was complaining to me about myself

Huh, must’ve been what Aurora had said about the plus ones not meaning anything. Of course his ears only perked up when it could be interpreted as kinky.

Santa Fe: there’s no handcuffs

Scalpel Jockey: after that christmas lingerie? colour me doubtful

Santa Fe: correction, *there’s no handcuffs for you at a new years celebration while everyone else is around

Scalpel Jockey: i’ll take it😏

—-

Then in no time it was 6:00pm on the 31st and everyone was getting ready for the others to turn up.

Suki was wearing a sparkly black jumpsuit with sheer sleeves and gold eyeshadow on her eyes. It felt the right palette for the occasion. The others were also dressed to the nines and they laughed and hung out until the first guest arrived.

Suki began to get nervous waiting for Bryce to arrive. God, what’s going on here? I thought we were over this?

Each new arrival sent a jolt through Suki’s stomach and she held her breath for a moment. And then there was a mix of relief and disappointment each time it wasn’t him.

When he finally swaggered through the door holding two bottles of red wine, cheering with his usual cockiness, she hung back while the others greeted him. He was dressed up, and lord did he look good.

Blue slacks, blue jacket, floral light blue shirt. Right down to the shiny black shoes. Suddenly Suki couldn’t stop looking at how those clothes fit him, suited him so well. Shit. And then how they would look on her bedroom floor.

“Suki,” he finally breathed out his greeting after saying hello to everyone else.

“Hi,” she gave him a nod and a smile which came out higher pitched than she’d intended and already knew her face was heating up.

Calm. The. Fuck. Down. It was just a kiss. We do it all the time.

Bryce moved closer as though about to say something else, when Jackie slapped a hand on his back and led him to the kitchen.

“We need to get that wine in a glass…”

The new year squad drank and discussed for a while before eventually Sienna started off the games for the evening.

“We’re going to play charades!” Sienna enthused.

“I call dibs on Suki,” Bryce said almost immediately.

“You don’t even know if I’m any good.”

“Oh, I know you’re good,” he winked. She rolled her eyes playfully, and the rest of the group paired up: Elijah and Phoebe, Sienna and Danny, Jackie and Raf, Aurora and Kyra.

Bryce and Suki got off to a Rocky start. The card she picked was an obscure one. She was standing, moving a fist in circles beside her mouth.

“Uhhh washing your face? Applying mascara? Smelling flowers? …whiskers? I- um, churning… butter? Conducting! No? Um…”

Suki was violently shaking her head at each ridiculous guess. She scowled and controlled her hand a little, opening her mouth like a fish.

“Oh! Eating!”

She nodded and grinned, waiting for him to get the rest.

“Oatmeal? Cereal? Ice cream? Oh! SOUP!?”

“Yes!” She jumped up finally and the two high-fived.

Elijah and Phoebe were surprisingly good, Sienna and Danny pretty terrible because they couldn’t stop laughing, and both Team Aurora and Team Jackie’s competitive sides were coming out. Most of the charades were funny, but Kyra’s were hilarious.

After a few rounds everyone was cutting it close aside from Sienna and Danny. It was Bryce’s turn.

He was mimicking riding a bike, which was hilarious. He had one foot to the ground and was circling the other one while he held his hands out in front of him. What a dork. But Suki guessed it quickly enough, pulling them ahead in points.

They reached the bottom of the pile of cards, Bryce and Suki winning by one point.

“We make quite the pair, don’t we Sukes?” He grinned, nudging her with his shoulder.

“I- are you-“

“You think I didn’t notice that little nickname you gave me? You can’t hog all the fun.”

Ah. So he hadn’t missed it then.

—-

As the night continued on they played a few board games (Monopoly, Scrabble), before an interesting game of Twister.

Suki somehow ended up in an odd human pretzel with Rafael, Sienna, and not at all to her surprise, Bryce. The universe had an agenda, alright.

“No don’t put your hand on that one I’ll fall over!” Sienna shouted at Raf. But it was too late and they fell into a big pile in the middle of the sheet. Somehow Jackie remained composed to the side of them.

“I won!”

“Can you help?” Struggled Suki, who was stuck at the bottom of the pile. The other half of the group worked to help each person off the pile. Bryce was winking down at her, their faces close and his body fitting into every part of hers. For fucks sake. She was trying super hard not to think about kissing the shit out of those lips right now.

To her relief, but also disappointment - which seemed to be much of a theme that night - Phoebe and Danny helped to pull Bryce up and she was left freed.

And then Kyra insisted on a game of Truth or Dare.

“Aren’t we a bit old for that?” Aurora asked.

“You’re never told old for fun!” Kyra replied, “I want to get to know you guys better.”

Phoebe had to kiss the person she fancied the most, which brought on many cheers and whoops when it turned out to be Elijah (definitely a leading question on Kyra’s part). The two couldn’t stop smiling at each other after that. Elijah told everyone about his biggest fantasy, Aurora showed off her hidden talent (burping the ABC’s), Danny read out his most recent text (an ‘I love you’ to his dad), Sienna was dared to take a mystery shot of Jackie’s creation – which looked like included pickle juice and Tabasco sauce. Rafael talked about his worst date, and Kyra had to give the person to her right a foot massage – which was Jackie. She didn’t seem to mind much.

Bryce picked dare, of course.

“I dare you to give everyone in the circle a lap dance!” Rafael said.

“You just want one, don’t you?” Bryce winked to the other man, who laughed and shrugged. Jackie looked horrified at the idea, and Elijah started to play Pony – Ginuwine through the speakers. So Bryce got about moving to the music like he was in Magic Mike. Slowly, each item of clothing was lost. Until he was left in only his boxers. Incredibly cringey, but also… pretty hot. He went around the circle, giving each person their own little performance. Danny pretended to fling dollar bills at him. Jackie made a lot of gagging noises and screeches.

When he at last got to Suki, she was nervous. He gave her that look she could read right through, and began to grind his ass just above her lap. When he turned to face her and began to wind his body above her, she knew she was visibly flustered. And so did he. Not to mention, he knew what she liked.

He grabbed her chin and brought it towards his sensually as he mockingly sang along with the song. This was such a game for him, and she was an unwitting pawn.

“You’re… not supposed to touch me,” she tried to laugh it out, but it was awkward and meek. He removed his hand with a flourish and an insolent shoulder shrug.

She was so alarmed, but eventually began to screech laughter. By that point everyone was in fits. It was almost impossible to take a lap dance seriously, and definitely impossible to take a lap dance from Bryce seriously.

“Okay, I think that concludes that,” Raf laughed. Bryce shot Suki a signature wink before pushing himself up to standing. He finished off his dance with a rather impressive body roll-into-worm movement. He then began to re-clothe himself.

After cooling down a bit, Suki chose truth, always the safer option. Or so she thought.

“Ok then. When did you last get laid?” Phoebe asked. Jump right to it, why don’t you?

Easy to lie, of course. But her expression and squirming was a dead giveaway that she was nervous to answer the question. And Suki was a terrible liar.

“The day before Christmas Eve,” she choked out, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Bryce because she could already tell the expression he had at that moment. Smug. Smug as shit. There’s no way he’s not thinking about the Christmas themed lingerie if nothing else.

“What? Who?” Jackie asked, not sly about the way her eyes fell on Suki’s neck again.

“Random tinder guy. It was nothing.”

From the corner of her eye Suki thought she could see Bryce’s face crinkle momentarily, but he was normal when she fully looked at him.

They played a couple more rounds, Suki was sure to pick dare that time (try to lick your elbow, thanks Sienna).

When the group took a little break Suki escaped and grabbed some more drinks from her bedroom, only to go to return and find Bryce leaning on her doorway. Draped on the frame like the prettiest chandelier in the vintage furniture store. Because vintage had character, beauty, stories, secrets. Looking ever so casual in his shirt, rolled up to his elbows, and slacks. His jacket was long discarded. Okay, this is the first time we’ll really have spoken since the kiss.

“Hey,” he said, as though they hadn’t spoken before that evening. Which, she supposed, they hadn’t. Not as ‘Bryce and Suki’.

Was he thinking about that kiss too? Was he consumed by the desire to rush over and kiss her slowly, every moment as much bliss as it was torture as though the moment were crafted as deliberately Dionysian? Hard to tell.

“Hey, what are you doing?” She was holding two bottles of sparkling wine in each hand, ready to have taken them out to the others. Unfortunately that meant she couldn’t expel nervous energy through drumming her fingers on her thighs.

“Just checking up on you. Making sure you’re not causing any trouble.”

“Riiiight.”

“Um,” he was flustered, something Suki never believed she would see in a million years. He scratched at the back of his head. “So tonight… after… are we- am I staying?”

“Ah, I see. This is a preemptive booty call.”

“No, well- I-“

Suki laughed, it was so odd to see him like this. Also odd that his first reaction to ‘is this a booty call’ was ‘no’?? What the hell has him so creepily bashful?

“Of course you can stay if you want. You don’t even have to leave early I’ll just throw you out on the couch and blame it on the alcohol.” As soon as the words left her mouth Suki regretted them. She’d pretty explicitly just invited him to stay the night. Like, the actual night. Rule number fucking two Suki. No. Staying. The. Night.

Not a matter of convenience, not a courtesy as thanks, just… because.

That mischievous part of her didn’t want to correct herself, or make it clear that he couldn’t stay. She wanted him to want to stay.

Fuck.

But she couldn’t listen to that little voice. She couldn’t. She knew she’d only screw herself over.

“You know what I mean, right? Like, after sex I’ll send you to the sofa…”

“Yeah. Sweet. Cool. Nice.”

Oh my god. What is going on? Why is he acting so weird? Is it the alcohol?

Suki was feeling clammy and stressed and she knew she had to change the subject.

“So, why didn’t you tell me the other day what your New Years plans were?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I came to yours…” now it was Suki’s turn to feel flustered, kiss brain alert kiss brain alert “I asked you about New Years and you ignored it.”

“Oh? I don’t know. I can’t remember,” he grinned and normal Bryce was back. “Come on, pass me a bottle and let’s get this night cracking on.”

And so they did, more laughing and dancing and games and talking. At one point, Bryce was dancing in a mockingly seductive way with Phoebe and Elijah, prompting Sienna to sidle up to Suki.

“So that lap dance Bryce did… did you notice he spent waaay longer on you than anyone else?”

“I think he just knew I’m easily embarrassed. It’s difficult to hide.”

“I don’t know Suki, I think he might fancy you,” she whispered, excitement and scandal in her voice and on her face.

How do I tell Sienna it’s just because we’re sleeping together without telling Sienna we’re sleeping together?

“Incredibly doubtful. He just wanted a rise out of me.”

When it reached around 11:45pm, the group lounged around on the couches to watch the ball drop in New York on the TV.

The obvious couples of the evening – Sienna and Danny; Elijah and Phoebe – were antsy and sat beside each other, waiting for their midnight kiss.

“I’m going to kiss each and every one of you,” Kyra grinned.

And Suki was in an awkward positing sat beside Bryce and wondering if she should kiss into the new year with him. It was only tradition, right? But felt important information to know.

Which she absolutely didn’t know.

But they couldn’t, they were surrounded by people.

As the countdown began, Suki’s tension rose. He wouldn’t kiss her, would he? Not here, not now.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Everyone shouted at once when the clock hit zero and the ball dropped in Times Square. Bryce reached over to give Suki’s hand a quick squeeze, but no kiss.

Instead, Kyra gave Suki a prolonged ‘mwah!’, and she had to sit watching Danny and Sienna, and Elijah and Phoebe getting into it. At least everyone else was single. The singles all stood to hug each other, a few kisses too, celebrating a whole new calendar year.

Suki bitterly wished that Bryce had kissed her. And she was mentally kicking herself for it. But, when he embraced her he whispered:

“We’ll ring the new year in properly later.”

[come-on-shitty-boys]

Haikyuu But They Don’t Play Volleyball (Captains Edition)

Notes:  I would like to preface this by saying that I haven’t played sportball since middle school and that was uhhhh??? 6 years ago.  I don’t know sports but here we are.

Sawamura Daichi: American Football

He’s the wide receiver.  So, he’s running off down the field to catch passes from the quarterback  At least that’s what Google said idk i hate football

Daichi’s a pretty decent hunk of dude, but he’s not super big either, so offensive where speed and coordination are more important is the better fit for him

But, he’s not the stereotypical dumb jock that everyone associates with football players

He’s super sweet and gets really good grades, likely taking a few honors classes, but not over-working himself.  The boy knows what he can handle academically.

I promise, if you ask him if you can wear his other jersey on Friday to school and to the game?  Oh, he’s a flustered mess.  He doesn’t understand why’d you want to wear it.

I mean, they’re not comfortable and no matter how much you wash them, they always kind of smell like sweat?  But, he likes how you look in it and you always look really happy when you get to wear his jersey.

It looks kind of goofy on you because they weren’t designed for people with, you know, tiddies, and the shoulders don’t fit right either.

But, you don’t care.

You always go get him his favorite snacks and make him a little treat bag every Friday.  He’s a WEENIE for it.  Daichi low-key feels bad because he never gets you anything?  But, sometimes he’ll offer to take you for burgers after the game. football makes him hongry okay

Idk man.  Daichi in football pants definitely hits different in my head.

Oikawa Tooru: Tennis

He’s got some incredible power and would probably be really good at sending the ball where he knows his opponent can’t get to it

Just like in volleyball, Oikawa’s tennis serve is feared.  It’s stupidly fast and he has impeccable aim

Oikawa is definitely behaving just how you would imagine a tennis player to behave.  He’s a little full of himself and probably in the ‘prep’ clique.

He’s not always like that, though, I swear.  It’s more of an act than anything else.  

In the classroom, he’s really studious and always provides insightful answers that most of the others never thought of.

As a boyfriend?  He loves having you at his matches, but Oikawa knows that you find them boring, so he never expects you to show up.

But when you do?  This boy is on his best game just to show you that you’re not here for nothing.

Oikawa will try to teach you how to play and he, honestly, is a pretty good teacher.  He’ll loan you one of his old rackets and just start by lightly hitting the ball back and forth.

Once you get the hang of it?  Tennis dates.

Expect to go with him to the courts at least once a week to play together.  If he can convince some of his teammates, you guys will play doubles.

You two usually lose, but it’s really only because he’s trying to make sure that you’re having fun, so he’ll get to goofing off and completely miss a ball that was coming right to him.

I really just want this boy in white shorts and a teal polo sorry

Kuroo Tetsurou: Basketball

Am I saying this because he’s stupidly long?  Yes, but also, he has really good reflexes as he is, like, the defense king

He plays power forward, so he’s the most versatile tall person on the court.  He’s responsible for rebounding, playing defense, and also racking up easy points.

Kuroo’s really good at zone defenses though.  He’s got long limbs so he covers a lot of space and makes it really hard to get past him has absolutely practically cornered someone against the out-of-bounds line all by himself

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.  Kuroo Tetsurou is a nerd, a dork, a geek, whatever you want to call it.  He’s tutoring the others on the team so they can have a full bench come game time.

During games, he’s so focused that it’s really rare if he actually notices that you’re even there.  

brb gotta simp over the thought of sweaty Kuroo, wiping his face on his jersey as he waits for someone to shoot their free throws 

But, after the game, you’re usually the first person he’s looking for.  Kuroo probably asked that you didn’t hug him, because he was all sweaty and definitely smelled, but when you told him it didn’t matter to you and latched onto him anyway?

*SIMPS*

The two of you will shoot hoops at his house once you’re both done with homework.  He thinks it’s really funny, watching you squeal and struggle to shoot over him as he tries to block you i promise you tried to shoot a basket and he just CAUGHT it

Bokuto Koutarou: Baseball

No, it is not just because I want to see him in baseball pants.  okay maybe just a little

He’s the pitcher and usually mixes between a curve and a fast ball.  

Bokuto is also a really good batter?  Like, he’s got a lot of power and it’s really common for him to hit doubles and triples.

He’s one of the more cool athletes in school.  I wouldn’t necessarily say that he’s popular, but people definitely know who is.  He’s more approachable than a lot of the guys on his team, so people tend to like him more

Sit behind home plate at all of his games, if you can.  It makes baby so happy, seeing your face light up when he strikes out a batter.

He also tries really hard to have good batting form if he knows that you’re watching him idk he thinks he looks good and that his top-notch form will impress you

it all looks the same to you whoops

You have no choice but to hug him after games.  He could be covered in dirt and sweat, but please, please jump into his arms and pepper his face with kisses.

The two of you will be taking a picture and he will be posting it to Instagram and Twitter so the entire world gets to see that his beautiful girl came to support him at his game.

He probably got you a bunch of shirts with his name and number on the back for you to wear.

Always tries really hard to show off for you during games and it makes his coach kind of mad, because he’s gotten out more than once because of it

but he also hits a lot of runners in to score, so it’s a struggle on whether or not bokuto should be made to run poles after the game 

Ushijima Wakatoshi: American Football

He’s a linebacker and a really good one too.

The other schools fear him.  He’s so intense and will take his opponent down without much of a struggle.

But, he’s really quiet off and on the field, which, arguably, makes him scarier.  Like, most of the other guys are talking shit, but then there’s Ushijima and he’s just silent

He doesn’t understand the whole thing about wearing your boyfriend’s football jersey.  “Y/N, it’s not going to fit you.” “’Toshi, please?”

He told you that he didn’t care either way.  You had a couple of sweatshirts with his name on it, so he didn’t understand why you’d want to wear something that was itchy and big, when you could be comfy

But, then he saw it on you and oh. He gets it now. You looked so good walking into school on Friday with his jersey tucked into your jeans.

He’s not one to love PDA, but he’d probably go to meet you when he sees you, just to give you a kiss on the cheek and hold your hand.  

wait oh my god i just got the mental picture of ushi in a football jersey and some dark blue jeans hang on i need water to quench this thirst

Ushijima also doesn’t get why you’re so excited to see him after games, but he’s not going to complain.  He’s absolutely smitten when you pretty much lunge into his arms, telling him how well he played

He’ll thank you and probably start rambling about football things and you have no idea what the hell he’s talking about, but you just stare up at him, nodding occasionally as if you know comprehend what he’s saying.

The two of you will probably sit in the parking lot together for hours, just hanging out in the bed of his truck ushi drives a pick-up truck and I will not believe otherwise

or a prius idk why.  but it’s either a pick-up truck or a prius

Anyway.  I don’t usually simp for Ushi, but uhhhhhh I’m a simp for Ushijima in jeans and a football jersey

[ranposlittle]

hey sweetie I noticed I haven’t requested chuuya🥺please maybe some fluff nsfw imagine with daddy chuuya calming down his s/o bc she is scared of storm 🥺

!! NSFW !!

A/N: One serving of Mr. Fancy Hat coming right up! Here you go! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧ I had fun writing this as gender neutral as I can and honestly, I think this is really cute uwu~ Also kinda inspired from the scene in the Onsen Drama CD where Chuuya counted to ten with Akutagawa while he dipped in the water. I hope this is to your liking! 💕

***

Chuuya had tried everything.

He already made you hot coco, a blanket fort, read you a story, counted unicorns with you, promised you a hundred times that the lightning won’t struck you because his “magic” will stop it, and he even sang you that song with silly dance steps, but nothing seems to work. The storm just keep on getting stronger by the minute and your fear growing along with it. Everything that helped you calm down before isn’t working anymore.

Another loud cracking of the thunder made you yelped and jumped from where you are laying inside the blanket fortress he made for you.

“Come here, baby,” Chuuya said, extending his arm and wrapping them around you. “There. You’re safe,” He pulled up a thick blanket to your shoulder and stroked your hair while he thinks.

He’s got to come up with something else to help you. It’s got to be something that will calm you from the sound of the harsh rain and the thunders, something that can put you to sleep in an instant so you can rest your weary little head.

Thinking about it, he only have one option left that he knows could work.

“Hey, baby,” his voice low and soothing. You looked up at him. “Why don’t we count down again, hmm? Once you reach ten, you won’t hear the scary sounds anymore.”

“But we already tried-”

“I know, baby, but this one is going to be different. I promise.”

You wrinkle your forehead and casted him a doubtful look. Chuuya gave you a confident smile and wiggled his eyebrows, making you giggle. You closed your eyes and started counting, trying to focus despite of the rain starting to roar again.

“One~” Your singsong voice blending in with Chuuya. “Two~ Three~”

“Four~” Chuuya’s voice disappeared and you frowned.

“Five…” when you didn’t hear his voice again, you slowly peeped your eyes open only to see his face closing in on yours.

Six.

Chuuya’s hands ran down your sides and rested on your waist as his lips weaved into yours. He pulled you closer, his body heat warming you up even more. He slowly grind against you and you reciprocated his action, moaning softly on his lips.

Seven.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your chest against his to further deepen the kiss. The grumbling of the thunder drowned out of your consciousness as Chuuya swirl his tongue on yours.

Eight.

Chuuya’s hand traveled underneath your clothes and you shiver as his cold fingers trailed on your skin, leaving goosebumps on its wake.

Nine.

Wind gusted outside the bedroom window as you tangled your fingers in his hair. You lightly bit on his lower lip emitting a moan of approval from Chuuya.

Ten.

The kiss lingered on a swelling suction before the both of you pulled yourselves off from each other. You opened your eyes and gazed at the calm blue of Chuuya’s.

“See? No more scary sounds. You didn’t even flinched from the thunder just now,” Chuuya said, smiling at you and stroking your head.

He’s right. You can still feel the air around you still charged from the shockwaves.

“Wow! Daddy’s magic really does work,” you sweetly praised him. The rain continues to pitter-patter on the roof but your bright smile warmed Chuuya’s heart like a sunshine.

“Yeah,” Chuuya said in an unimpressed tone. “But I wasn’t able to make the storm disappear just yet. So why don’t you sleep now and I’ll make sure it’s gone before you wake up.”

“But…” Your lower lip protruded.

“But what, baby?”

“But I’m too excited to sleep now,” you mumbled, your eyes refusing to meet his as you play with his shirt. “Besides, if the thunder comes back, I’ll just get scared again. So, maybe we’ll just have to kiss until I fall asleep.” Your voice trailed off as you get more embarrassed while voicing out your request.

Chuuya laughed and you buried your face on his chest to hide your blushing face. He squeezed you tightly for a moment and expressed how adorable you are. He cupped your face and kissed your forehead. “I have something better in mind, though. Turn around for me, baby.”

You did as what you are told and leaned your back against his chest. He scoot closer to you and adjusted himself so that one of his arms is underneath your armpit and the other slithered around your waist. You laughed as he placed tickling kisses on your neck while pressing you closer to his body. But it wasn’t long until your giggles turned into soft moans as Chuuya slid his hand in between your legs and started rubbing you. You threw your head back as he touch you over your shorts, giving him more access to your neck and his kisses turning into a more lustful ones. Your hand reflexively held on his forearm as his hands moved faster.

“Daddy… That’s good…” Your low whisper almost inaudible over the sound of raindrops rapping outside.

“This will relax you really good, baby. I know how fast you fall asleep after you come,” Chuuya answered, his hot breath fanning on the nape of your neck and he licked the shell of your ear before resuming his business on your neck. “Let daddy make you come, okay?”

You bit your lower lip and nodded. Chuuya grabbed your shorts, pulling it down just enough to slide his hand inside your underwear. His dainty fingers already working on your downfall. A thunder cracked somewhere but you pay it no mind as a storm of some sort also started to brew within you.

As Chuuya continues to play with your genital like an instrument, his other hand made its way to your chest. Brushing your nipples with his thumb and rolling it with his index finger ever so often. The sound of the storm outside is now being replaced with your sweet mewls and Chuuya’s inviting moans. The movements of his fingers underneath you, the small but incredible waves of pleasure from your buds and his relentless attacks on your neck clouded your mind, just like how the gray clouds occupied the sky earlier before it began pouring. In your case too, the bliss being carried by the clouds in your head began to feel heavy as it threaten to pour down.

Your closed eyes squeezed as Chuuya lightly pinched on your most sensitive nipple and a cry of satisfaction escaped your mouth. You feel your fluids flow out of you as his fingers continue to work diligently for your pleasure. It’s starting to get too much as Chuuya’s hand beneath you picked up its pace and deepen the pressure on your aroused muscles.

“Da–ddy! Ah~!” Your nails digged on his skin as your grip on his forearm tightened.

“Are you close, baby? That’s it, just feel good,” he said softly, his words vibrating on your neck.

You felt Chuuya’s toned arms tensed and relax respectively as he switched his speed on your sex from fast, slow and torturously slow. Your pleasure spiking higher every time he’ll go fast after the snail-like pace. You squirm beside him as you feel your body getting charged with electricity like a lightning ready to strike any time. Your lips quiver as you struggle to speak, wanting to let Chuuya know that your head is spinning around in absolute pleasure and the storm inside you is about to unleash.

“It’s okay, baby. You can come,” Chuuya said, perfectly knowing what your unintelligible whimpers mean. “You’d like that, don’t you? Go ahead and come.”

Chuuya craned his head as he watched your face contort in lustful expressions he had always loved. He smirked as he admire your disheveled form, squirming and whining helplessly against him. He held you tightly in place as his hand below you went even faster and slower alternately.

“Da– ah!” You cried out as another shock of pleasure jolted on your body, pushing you further to the end.

Your ecstatic whimpers and moans resounding all throughout the makeshift walls of your blanket fort. The pleasure building up with every stroke of Chuuya’s fingers until your body can’t deny itself anymore.

“Chuuya,” you absentmindedly mumbled. Your fingers gripping on his arm pressed further in a bruising pressure as you say his name like a prayer. “Chuuya. Chuu– ya– ah! Ah! Chuuya!”

And as if a lightning flashed behind your eyelids, your whole vision turned white as your orgasm struck you down. Your back arched and your senses numbed, completely taken over by the breathtaking explosion of your satisfaction. Your body spasmed from the shock of the strike, your shivering cries resembling the cracks of thunder as you steadily come down from your climax. Your vision cleared and so is your senses, Chuuya’s hand still slowly caressing you as he listens to your quiet pants like a distant roll of thunder moving away to another site.

“That’s it,” he chuckled lightly. “Good girl. That’s a good girl.” Chuuya peppered your face with kisses as he waits for your body to settle down. Your fingers loosened on his arm, leaving red marks on its place on his skin. Chuuya nuzzled his face on your neck as he whisper words of appraisal for your excellent job in orgasming. He pulled out his hand out of your underwear, his fingers still wet from your discharge. You closed your heavy eyes as Chuuya fix your shorts back to its position on your hips and adjusted himself once again to wrap you in a cuddle.

“Daddy, I’m…” you mumbled, almost half-asleep. “So. Tired.”

Chuuya stroked your hair and kissed your head. “Alright, baby. Go to sleep. I’m here to take care of you.”

“Thanks,” you exhaled as your whole body relaxed on his embrace, the rain almost muted as it falls as gently as it can, as if respecting your need for rest.

Your consciousness continued to dip into slumber and as you drift off, you can hear the faint humming of Chuuya along with the gentle stroke of his hand on your hair. You smiled on your sleep as the skies began to calm and the moon shined again.

[ohmylove--mydarling]

It’s true what they say about your early-to-mid 20s. This particular span of ten blissful, wanton years is the only time in your entire life where you will ever feel truly invincible. And yes, you absolutely better enjoy it while it lasts. Lithe-bodied, hopeful, capable of both pounding an entire handle of rail vodka all while making it to your 8 am sociology class the next day, they’re a little like your teen years, with one prized difference. Your early-to-mid 20s are blessed with the seemingly novel, universe-bending element of freedom.

And freedom doesn’t simply mean the ability to make stupid decisions without the fear of getting grounded. It also means the freedom to live in an idyllic sort of vacuum, where you’re surrounded by friends – if we’re being honest, the family you get to choose – and cradled in this serene philosophy, this security blanket of an idea that hangs in the air but is never outwardly or directly expressed, that this, all of this, will last forever. That these people will always be there, they will always be around, floating with you in this bubble, as free and easily accessible as a coatrack or your neighbor’s WiFi. Always holding your beer, always holding your hair back (while you puke, or maybe while you cry), always holding your hand. Always at the very least in the peripheral, if not the forefront, of your vision.

During these years you know everything, and yet somehow you know nothing at all.

***

Like most of the sorority sisters I grew close with – and as is probably true with anyone else who pledged a very tiny chapter at an equally tiny school – I don’t remember much about how I met Taylor beyond the first night she “rushed.” Rush is an interesting social phenomenon, for multiple reasons. Picture a gaggle of young college-aged women who typically spend every waking hour of their day primping and glossing and adjusting for the sole purpose of the male gaze. Except this time, their attention is entirely drawn to a smaller group of girls (not that much smaller of a group, if we’re lucky this semester) that they want to impress instead. A frenzy of compliments and genuine interest, a dormant volcano of estrogen and hot girl energy and reciprocation, madly overflowing in a span of two hours over something as innocuous as an ice cream social or tie-dying a pile of crewneck t-shirts (I think we did the “hippie” recruitment theme every other semester). It is one of the very best parts of what is an often problematic-at-best Greek culture, and this rush was no different.

I’m not sure what my first impression of Taylor was, other than that we obviously had the same first name, and oh yeah, she was beautiful– effortlessly pretty but not the least intimidating. I could approach her and talk to her and not feel like a complete toad. She was a little soft-spoken, incredibly polite. I think she wore navy blue. And an aura of genuine kindness seemed to radiate from her with the soft glow of candlelight.

After rush ended and Taylor chose to join our ranks, where she belonged, it felt like she had been in my life from the very beginning. And, though this idea was never spoken, it felt like she would never leave.

***

In a sorority, there is sometimes a tendency, however unintentional, to categorize your sisters, and to turn to certain ones for different needs at different times. There’s the sister you study with, the sister you go on your morning run with, the sister(s) you are always down to party with. There’s the sister who makes amazing grilled cheese, the sister whose dorm is the only place you’ll binge-watch Supernatural. When you’re riding the waves of a breakup, you got mad options: There’s the sister who brushes your hair as you ugly-cry and choke on your own snot, the sister who pledges to hook you up with her brother’s hot friend the moment you’re ready for a rebound, the “dump him sis” sister who yanks your phone out of your hand in the middle of what is probably a very unwise text and threatens to stab him with her eyebrow razor if he so much as looks at you again, the sister who makes you forget the whole thing ever happened, that it ever even mattered.

There’s the maid of honor sister, the future fun wine-aunt sister, the sister you have on speed-dial even though speed-dial isn’t a thing anymore. There are the sisters who teach you how to do winged liner, how to hide a hickey with coral lipstick and concealer, how to chant, how to chug, how to memorize the Greek alphabet and the …numbers (at least for the ones who are most definitely going to ask). There are the sisters whose weddings you bawl at, whose babies you hold and immediately love as an extension of the incredible mother who brought them into this world.

And there are the sisters who teach you grace and humility, strength and resilience, kindness and self-love. The sisters who changed your life for the better the moment they put on your letters, the sisters who hand you the mirror and force you to see yourself just as they see you.

The thing about Taylor was that she was all of these. The whole package. Everything good, all in one.

***

Though our friendship was at its strongest during my college and immediate post-college years, Taylor remained a calming, grounding presence in my life. She married an incredible man who loved her for all the reasons we did and plenty more, and I went to her wedding and cried. She got a job as a nurse at the local hospice, a profession she seemed put on this earth to do. I could picture Taylor in her element there, literally surrounded by an entire ocean of grief, serving as an island of hope, a beacon of light and love for those who so desperately needed all those things, the things she provided us without question even when our lives were comfortable. Soon after – and this thought still makes something in my throat ache – she brought life into this world, a beautiful daughter with both her mother’s eyes and her genuine love and gratitude for life, a joyful curiosity coloring everything she did.

Taylor’s life, we knew, was finally the one she had always deserved.

***

I won’t, and can’t anyway, get into the details of Taylor’s passing. I can say that nothing about it was expected and literally every detail about it is horrific. Personally, it feels like a robbery, like something was taken from me; but on a grander scale, on a scale that actually matters, it is simply heartbreak. Riding the waves of grief not only for my own loss, but for a husband, a child, a family, a community whose lives were upended and whose hearts were crushed by something that simply should not have happened in a universe where they say justice and kindness exist.

Frankly, this grief is unlike any other I have experienced. It has a way of blanketing everything around me, like mosquito netting. It is as thick and choking as a cloud of black smoke, permeating my clothes, filling my lungs, making it impossible to see, so all I can do is desperately cling to whatever gives me the slightest amount of peace, no matter how fleeting. As someone who has always struggled with my faith (and moments like these certainly do not help), I try to remember Taylor’s. It brought her comfort and strength, the belief that God loves everyone so naturally she was going to love everyone, too. And all I can hope is that this belief of hers, this faith, manifested in her final moments. That there was a light, a voice, a presence, something there that reminded her that she was loved. That we knew she loved us, that her family will never be alone, that we will desperately miss her. That her legacy is as wide and expansive as all the oceans.

Her funeral is in a few days. Her funeral, a concept still as foreign as my own.

***

At this point it’s probably clear, but the things I want people to remember the most about Taylor are, quite simply, her kindness and her intrinsic ability to love. She was kind without questioning. She loved without strings or conditions, tirelessly and endlessly. At a time when an icy, impenetrable layer of cynicism seemed to blanket so many of our hearts – including my own – Taylor managed to crack it a little, to let just enough of her light and her warmth in to make a change.

I teased her often – probably too often –  for her unbreakable habit of bringing home literally any stray cat she ever found (and then naming it something either really cute or painfully dumb, like “Moe” or “Cheese”). But even as someone who unapologetically hates cats, and more honestly as someone who spent most of her 20s thinking that if I hardened my exterior and never let love in I was somehow protecting everything it surrounded, I viewed this habit through a secret lens of adoration. I adored Taylor’s heart. I hoped to absorb some of it, its ability to love everything, to find beauty in the darkest and loneliest spaces and to also force people to see it and feel it for themselves.

I felt Taylor was going to be around forever. It was a selfish thought. I hadn’t physically seen her in over a year (there was a pandemic and she was a nurse and I was subsumed by my own now meaningless world). I am filled with an omnipresent regret that I have no control over. I miss her so much my heart feels swollen and achy with a pining, a real grief.

There is no happy ending to this, no concise, comfortable, heartwarming way to wrap this all up in a pretty package, though Taylor was the type to want everything to have a good ending. So instead I cling to the memories, the photographs. Our banquets, homecoming, Lana del Rey, cherry blossoms. The way she rapped that entire A$AP Ferg verse one night. The way she looked in her wedding gown. The way she talked about charity and good deeds. The way she talked about God. Her love, no matter what transgression I made or no matter if I failed to give it back. I hope to love harder now, and if I can, it’s because Taylor taught me how.

I love you, Taylor. DZLAM.

[chidorikiller]

         Chitose tries in her best efforts to do all that she can with limited resources to ease the burden of Kakashi’s injuries. From the looks of things he’d been badly wounded along the side of his abdomen, by a blade of some sort, and his chakra reserves are feeble at best after the use of his Sharingan towards the end of their fight. Thankfully, it doesn’t appear that Kakashi’s wound was losing much blood, so she would be able to patch him up without problem.

            However, Chitose’s chakra was also weak from lending a hand during that fight, so healing him completely will be impossible for the time being. The Copy Ninja will have to take things easy; that could be potentially troublesome later.

            ❝ I suppose since you’re involved now and you’re a shinobi with a high clearance–The mission was meant to last up to a year, strictly observational, ❞ she says, ❝ I was planted to collect information after we’d gotten a lead on a new human trafficking organization, the Kareru Hana. The clues led me to the Land of Stone, but something tells me this is greater than Konoha thought. ❞

            Hovering over Kakashi’s body, she first helps him out of his green flak jacket, then his black shirt, and cleans the wounded area so she can stop the bleeding altogether.

            For someone who has killed shinobi with her bare hands, the Red Dragon also has this incredibly gentle touch when it comes to medical practice. He can attest to witnessing her work while they both served ANBU and this is certainly not the first time Chitose has worked on his body.

            ❝ I have a strong feeling this won’t be the last time we run into them. It’s likely they were already onto me before you’d said something, ❞

Honestly, it was surprising that Kakashi had recognized her so easily, then again it was probably the distinct mole pattern underneath her eyes that gave her disguise away.

           ❝ I was suppose to meet an informant in the Land of Rain who could forge documentation to plant me directly in the location of their hideout, but since the Kareru Hana seem to recognize my disguise, I will have to get a new one. The mission isn’t totally ruined lest I get to the Land of Rain in one piece–we can get there in one piece. ❞

           Forming rapid hand signs, a pale blue glow emanates from the palms of her hands and softly she rests them upon his abdomen to heal his wound just enough to close it.

            ❝ Hold still, ❞ she murmurs. While they wait, her sharp, golden eyes glance in his direction after feeling his gaze upon her.

            ❝ It’s been a long time since we’ve been like this, haven’t we? Besides current events, how have you been, Hatake-san? What were you doing in the Land of Stone? ❞

Kakashi was in pain, but it was nothing he hadn’t experienced before. He hadn’t lived in a time before Tsunade, before during intense battles and intense missions, you wouldn’t find a medic on your team. He couldn’t imagine times like that, the helplessness of those times, the bloodbath that would only be worse than it was now. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could have not thought of putting a medic with each team. But then again. hindsight was twenty-twenty. Even so, he had been in situations where the medic had died and he hadn’t had immediate healing, or, like now, his injuries had been so severe he hadn’t had immediate relief from the pain. Or even--that there were just too many injured shinobi and not enough medics for how many people were injured and dying. For Kakashi, he knew what he could survive, so he would usually be last. Still, he was grateful for Chitose, and that she was a medic, too.

But as to the trafficking ring Chitose mentioned: “I’ve heard whispers,” he said. “I don’t know much, though.” He accepted her help peeling off the  bloodstained flak jacket and shirt, wincing when he had to lift his arms over his head -- an involuntary response, really, because the pain was bad, but again, nothing ht hadn’t dealt with before. “What I have heard, though, I don’t like.”

He listened to her plan and nodded. Yes, they had a way to go before safety, and now of course he had to help her complete the mission he nearly butchered. They were on the same “team,” after all. He didn’t need to be told to hold still, when her hands rested on his abdomen to heal his wounds, he had experienced this many times before. Still, he understood the guidance was more automatic than anything else.

Kakashi chuckled slightly, but it made him wince again. “It has been,” he said. “Hmm, Akatsuki background work. Looking into the member Deidara’s origins, and also doing a little general reconnaissance to update our records. They figured I could go alone, since it was me. Guess they forgot to update me about your mission.”

He smiled slightly. “But hey, at least this means you don’t have to pretend anymore. I always hated undercover missions. Too much work. Too much pretend.” // @sennenryuu

[irwingiggling]

friends of friends. | pt. 1

A/N: Sooo guess who’s back with a new fic?! Please let me know what you guys think, and if you want me to continue this - I have lots of ideas for it! If you enjoyed it, please give it a like so I know people are interested in reading more :) The band does exist in this fic, but it’s more of a casual thing and none of the boys are famous. In this fic I tried to really focus on the characterization and in improving my writing, so yeah this is my little passion project rn while I’m in quarantine. [Also a little shoutout to @cakesunflower​, I don’t know her at all but her fics (wglylm, quiet hours, etc.) and her writing is honestly incredible and she was one of the many awesome writers on here who inspired me to start this. :)]

Word Count: 2,100+

Rating: PG-13 (mentions of alcohol, swearing)

---

"Who's Calum?" Audrey was perched over a tall wooden stool, hands around a mug of steaming hot coffee. Her short brown hair landed just above her shoulders, cascading perilously towards her coffee as she stared down her friend, a sly smile on her face.

"Just a friend of a friend," Rose replied with a shrug.

Audrey's eyebrows arched in response, unsatisfied with Rose's answer.

"No seriously. I barely know him, I met him the other day at some get together Nina dragged me to."

At mention of the other girl, a smile crept onto Audrey's face. "Damn, Nina. How's she doing?" The three were close friends back in university, sharing a dorm for two years. But after school, they'd all started to go their separate ways. Nina was in public relations. A true socialite, she loved meeting new people, and could keep up conversation for hours. Since landing her new job as an assistant for some small music company, she'd managed to drag Rose along to various parties and social gatherings with increasing frequency. The two lived on opposite sides of town in Boston, but remained decently close despite this. On the other hand, Audrey had moved back home to Michigan after school, and the two didn't see her very often at all.

"She's good. Still a true extrovert." Rose said with a gentle shake of her head.

"Gotta love that girl. She was always a go-getter." Audrey laughed, taking a sip of the creamy drink.

In contrast to Nina, Rose would describe herself as a simple person. She had her little apartment, her work, a well-stocked supply of coffee, and her dog, Olive - who she'd somehow managed to sneak under her apartment's 60lb weight limit. Everything else was extra, but as long as she had those few essentials, she was perfectly content. Though as a recent university grad who was still working part-time at a coffee shop, and taking whatever freelance work she could on the side, she didn't have a lot of room for extravagances anyway. In contrast, Audrey found a job as a radio broadcaster back home right out of school, and could now afford to make the flight down to see her girls.

"Anyways don’t try and change the subject, you haven't had a man in your life in ages!" Audrey exclaimed, teasingly poking a finger against the arm of Rose's blue sweater.

Rose gave her head a faint shake, smiling gently. She had no doubt Nina had already recounted the entire work gathering to Audrey over one of her long-winded FaceTime calls. Nina had a way of getting carried away with the stories she told, which likely meant their distant observation of Calum had morphed into a much closer brush than it actually was.

----

She vaguely remembered him from that last work event. He was easily recognizable by his dark curly hair, tanned skin, and youthful appearance, especially since the vast majority of others mingling looked to be in their late 30s. Rose caught drifts of conversations about sales and pitches and various public relations-related stuff. She had caught him looking over at her during one of the speeches. When she met his gaze he'd turned away.

"Who's that?" she asked, tugging lightly on Nina's arm. Nina was in the middle of rambling about some publication technique to boost online views.

"Oh, him? That's Calum. He's a member of one of the newer bands the company's signed. Seems decent, haven't really had a chance to chat with him yet."

Calum.

She never got the guts to go over and talk to him that night, even though he looked like one of the only people who was actually having a decent time, chatting animatedly with an equally tall guy around his age, drink in hand. Instead, she stayed by Nina's side, letting her talkative friend fill the silence and introduce her to many people whose names she would inevitably forget.

---

It was two weeks later, and Nina had caught Rose off guard yet again, getting her to agree to another one of her work parties before Rose even really knew what she was saying yes to. The term ‘party’ was an exaggeration, to say the least. Only the watered-down drinks and the 70s hits playing at a whisper in the background gave the faintest suggestion that this was a party. Rather, it was a way for people at Nina’s company to schmooze with those from other nearby labels and PR companies, collaborating on techniques, getting insider information on new signings and album releases. And Nina was so thrilled at the prospect of sharing her knowledge and making new friends, that Rose felt obligated to say yes. However, not knowing a thing about the music industry or public relations made it difficult to relate to any of the conversations, so she often found herself glued to Nina’s side, maintaining an appropriate amount of nods and smiles to the people Nina talked to, waiting for the agonizingly slow clock to tick down. She sharply reminded herself to not give in to Nina’s pleas again, that this would be the last time she would let her Friday nights turn out like this.

Letting her thoughts wander, she remembered catching a vague glimpse of the dark-haired man earlier on in the night, but she hadn't seen him at all in the past half-hour, and figured he'd gone home. She wished she could leave too, but sadly Nina was her ride, which meant she'd be here for a while longer. By this time Rose was frankly sick of Nina's incessant chatter, and with feigning enjoyment in meeting random people she truly had no interest in.

She politely excused herself from the conversation, and made her way towards the kitchen, in the hopes she could scrounge up another drink to get her through the night. Taking a look around the kitchen, she let out a small sigh when she didn't see any alcohol. However, her eyes landed on the same curly-haired man from earlier. So this was where he'd been hiding out. His cheeks flushed a vague tinge of pink at seeing he'd been discovered, but he let out a relieved breath when he saw that it was her. One of the only other people here around his age, who didn't seem like she'd want to chatter endlessly about the management side of music.

"Hey, I remember you." He stood facing her, a gentle smile on his face. "Calum," he introduced, taking a hand out of his pocket and extending it towards her.

"Rose," she replied, lips curving into a smile as she shook his hand, his larger one temporarily enveloping hers.

"Nice to meet you," he nodded. "Do you work here?" He was sure if he'd seen her before that he would have remembered.

"No, I'm actually a struggling arts major," she confessed with a small chuckle. "My friend dragged me here. Nina."

"Oh," Calum nodded, eyes flashing lightly in recognition of a name he couldn't quite place. "The really… social one?" He asked hesitantly towards the end, unsure exactly how to phrase it.

"Yeah, you can’t miss her,” Rose said, giving her head a small shake in amusement. She felt a sense of relief as Calum's light chuckle flooded her ears.

"So I'm kind of hiding out here right now," he began, looking past her for a second to the crowd of people mingling past the doorway, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as he confirmed none of the guests were interested in pulling him into another conversation.

She chuckled lightly, moving to place her empty glass near the sink. "Do you come to these kinds of things often?"

"Not really," he shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. "But the label wanted me to make an appearance. Somehow I keep drawing the short end of the stick this month for that kind of stuff."

She laughed, glad she didn't have to pretend this was an enjoyable party.

"It's kinda.. stuffy?" he added, nose scrunching at the word.

She nodded in complete understanding. "Yeah. A lot of middle-aged record and publication people. Not exactly my crowd either."

"Tell me about it," Calum sighed, taking a long sip of his fruity drink. "And this was all I could find," he added half-heartedly, raising the glass.

She chuckled, trying to muffle her amusement at the strange drink that didn't seem to quite fit with his look. The vividly coloured mini umbrella and bright purple liquid contrasted sharply with the metal rings that adorned his tanned fingers and the tattoos peeking out from his shirt collar.

Noting her amusement with his drink of choice, his eyes began to light up, and he chuckled along with her.

"I figured," she said, fighting to contain her smile. This only served to make him more amused, a full-blown laugh bubbling out from his full, pink lips. His laugh seemed too pure, too alive for this subdued party.

They stood in silence for a couple beats, letting the low buzz from the various people in the room flood their ears again, before Calum drained the rest of his drink in a gulp. "Did you wanna get out of here?" He asked, setting his empty glass down on the counter beside hers, gesturing vaguely to the direction of the front door.

"Oh!" She wasn't able to mask her surprise, eyebrows rising and a faintly amused but apologetic look on her face. "Wow, um… I think you're great, I really do, but that's just not quite something that I'm-"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at her response. He tilted his head slightly to one side, lips parted, as he tried to figure her out. Eventually his lips curved into a smile and a gentle laugh erupted from his mouth as he realized where she was going with this. "Shit, I meant food. My bad."

And then she was blushing profusely, wanting to melt into the floor in embarrassment because how could she fuck that up? She sighed, letting out a small whine of contempt, and when she finally got the courage to look back up at him, he was watching her, eyes sparkling. He dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, trying half-heartedly to contain the smile that still graced his face at her expense.

"Yeah, ok." She nodded, letting out a small chuckle. "I can do food."

---

She didn't quite know how she ended up at the fast-food place at 10pm, seated in a tiny booth across from Calum, watching the curly-haired man munching happily away on fries, their knees occasionally knocking against each other.

When he looked at her it was as if he was looking into her. His dark curls cascaded over his forehead, a hint of stubble on his jaw. His eyes were soft and dark brown. They crinkled around the edges when he laughed and they felt like home. It was weird for her, to feel that way with a stranger. But in many ways Calum felt more like an old friend. Like someone she'd known all her life and was just reconnecting with. At this point in the night he was beginning to look tired and sleepy, but just when she thought he was losing interest, his eyes would light up at a funny comment, and it would bring her in closer, creating the most comfortable, at ease feeling deep in her stomach. That night she learned Calum had a wicked dry sense of humour, and that his warm laugh sounded like honey.

They were there for over an hour, long after the remnants of their burgers had gone cold. Only the buzzing of the neon sign in the front window, and the quiet shuffling of the lone staff member were background noise to their conversation.

Eventually they decided to part ways, both tired and content from the night. They put their empty trays in the garbage, and left. Outside they stood only a few steps apart, trying to use each other's bodies to evade the cold wind blowing through the empty parking lot. It was already April in Boston, but some nights still felt like winter.

"Alright," he said, tugging the hood of his jacket over his head so only a few curls poked out. "Get home safe, ok?"

"I will. You too, Calum."

She turned to leave, but his fingertips brushed across the fabric of her jacket. She looked up, the movement garnering her attention. His tongue darted across his bottom lip, brown eyes searching her own.

"We're doing a little show at The Reign next Saturday night. You should come, if you want."

"Yeah I'd love to. I'll be there."

And then he was smiling, hands buried in his pockets. She took a step back and gave him a wave, which he returned, watching her for a few moments before turning in the direction of his own apartment.

[paintingraves]

A purr-fect day

Went to OPT prompts and received a prompt about Percival being swarmed by a pack of kittens so here - have this very soft thing ❤️

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

It’s Percival Graves’ birthday. 

The man himself doesn’t seem to care, but  every single one of his Aurors know about it. So does Newt, who's been living in a rented flat in New York for a few months now, working in an official capacity as a consultant for the MACUSA. They are trying to reform some of their laws about magical creatures: it is a long, tedious process -- one that sets back the publication of his second book by months -- but it’s important and Newt really feels like he is making a difference. 

His routine these days is usually the same. Newt wakes up at the crack of dawn and tends to his creatures; then he gets dressed and drops by Jacob’s bakery on his way to work in order to grab coffee and a delicious pastry. His favourite at the moment is a croissant-like delicacy filled with warm chocolate.  Newt always wolfs it down like he hasn’t eaten in three days and licks his fingers clean afterwards, unashamed. 

He steps into MACUSA through the magical revolving door and heads to the Aurors’ bullpen, where his office and work await him. They chatter amicably between colleagues until 8 am, at which point Director Percival Graves makes his grand entrance -- cup of bitter black coffee in his hand and dark circles under his eyes. He gives them a debriefing as he sips his drink. When he's done they get to work, and Graves heads down to his own office. He always passes by Newt when he does, and Newt always gets to appreciate the heady smell of his cologne on the way. 

(He… may or may not have a bit of a thing for Percival Graves. So what? Almost everyone here does, apparently, because their director is just that striking. Newt is no different.) 

But today is a special day, and things take a different turn. 

Newt stills drops by Jacob’s bakery, but he’s earlier than usual. Instead of buying only one pastry, he buys an assortment of them, trying to pick ones he thinks Percival would like. 

All his colleagues are present at the office as early as 7 am. Newt steps into the room as they’re starting to clear the tables free of paperwork, ink, quills, books and other bulky things to rearrange them in a sort of semi-circle to serve as a buffet. 

Madeleine uses her wand to unfold a large white tablecloth and everyone helps set the table: there's pots of coffee, warm chocolate and tea; Newt brought pastries, John’s baked an apple pie, and Esther made a fruit salad. Soon enough, with everyone’s contributions, the table is full of food and drink aplenty. Diana is blowing up balloons while Geralt hangs a large ‘happy birthday’ banner across the room. 

There's one table reserved for gifts. Newt can guess what most people could have bought: perhaps a new tie or a book, a good bottle of wine, etc. Newt himself has gotten Percival an exotic plant, whose flowers release a calming scent that has the same effect on humans as a cat purring. He hopes Percival will like it. 

It’s nearly 8. They're all a bit nervous; truth be told they have no idea how Graves will react to the display. He certainly isn’t expecting it, that's for sure. Geralt said he's never known Percival to mention his birthday, much less celebrate it. But today also marks the first year the man's been back at work despite his ordeal at the hands of Grindelwald, and that deserves to be remembered. They’re just hoping he’ll be touched by the attention, and happy. 

When Percival walks into the room at 8 precisely, he freezes on the doorstep. His eyes widen in surprise and alarm. He takes in the redecorated room, his hand shaking slightly around his cup of coffee. “... What is this?” 

“Happy birthday, sir,” his Aurors say all at once, smiling. 

Percival’s eyes widen even more. “Oh shit,” he says, coming to a realization. “It is my birthday, isn’t it? I’m… Fuck. I don’t know what to say. This… is a surprise, but...” 

“You deserve it,” Diana says simply, and they all nod in agreement. “I’ll put on some music. I hope you like jazz!” 

“Get you anything to drink, sir? Or eat? We got a ton of stuff here, including but not limited to John’s famous apple pie!” 

“A - a slice of apple pie sounds perfect, thank you,” Percival says, still bewildered. He looks almost timid, so wrong-footed. “And coffee, please. I’m sure it’ll taste better than this brew I have.” 

“Let me take your coat,” Newt offers, stepping forward. “And make yourself comfortable.” 

"There’s work to do,” Percival says, even as he takes off his cream-coloured trench coat and his hat. Underneath, he wears one of his usual three-piece suits, complete with dark blue pants, a white shirt and an assorted waistcoat and tie. Everything is tailored to perfection, as per usual. Newt will honestly never get over how attractive the older man is. It doesn't help that Percival rolls up his sleeves to his elbows. "I can't stay long, but I really appreciate this, thank you…"

His words get drowned in the soft jazz music that starts playing. Everyone relaxes and starts to eat and drink, standing up, or sitting on chairs around the room; they're all happy that Percival hasn’t reacted negatively (and why would he?) 

The director seems to have gotten over his shock now; he is clearly embarrassed (the tips of his ears blushing red) as well as deeply flattered, but he’s not mad. 

At one point there's the opening of presents. 

Percival stays sitting in his chair as they bring the wrapped gifts over to him. He thanks each Auror warmly, saying he never expected to be this spoiled, and that they shouldn't have. He makes jokes about getting old. Percival receives a brand new watch (courtesy of three of the Aurors, who put together some savings to afford it) as well as a silver hoop earring -- much to his delight and surprise. He raises an eyebrow as Geralt explains sheepishly that he’s noticed Percival’s ear was pierced, yet that he never wore such jewelry, promoting Percival to regal them with a few tales of his rebellious youth. He puts the earring on. It looks incredibly dashing, giving him a bit of a more roguish air. It's terribly, terribly attractive. 

There's also a funny tie with little ducklings printed on it which Percival promises to wear the next day at work; two Sherlock Holmes books; a shiny pocket knife (for Percival never goes anywhere unarmed) and finally Newt’s plant. Newt monologues about its healing properties, as he’s wont to do, and Percival thanks him with a warm smile, telling Newt it is incredibly thoughtful. He is so polite. So sincere. So composed. Ugh. Newt wants this man quite badly. He doesn’t know how much longer he can handle this sweet torture... 

The last gift Percival receives is… different. He is laughing, and he's never looked this happy in the months Newt has known him. It makes his heart swell painfully inside his chest. He wants Percival to keep smiling like that, everyday, and he wants to be the reason behind his joyous smile. 

“Alright, what is this?” Percival asks as Madeleine give him a large square box. They managed to convince him to wear one of those pointy colorful birthday hat, and it is slightly askew on his head. A strand of dark hair falls into his face. Percival looks more ruffled and relaxed than they’ve ever seen him, and Newt wonders whether one of the aurors spiked his coffee with whiskey or something, because this is quite the contrast compared to the austere, severe, put together man they’re used to seeing daily. 

“Open it!” Madeleine says, and Percival does - only for everyone to gasp in sheer joy at the sight of what’s inside of the box. 

Kittens! 

“Oh my god!” Esther squeals happily, slapping a hand over her mouth. 

“So one of my cats had babies recently, and I figured this was a nice gift! Here they are!” 

“I…” Percival says, at a loss as to what to do. Madeleine grins and, gently, she takes each kitten from the box and puts them in Percival’s lap, then takes the box away. 

The kittens (four in total) immediately meow for attention and begin to explore their new surroundings: one of them tries to climb on Percival’s chest, digging its claws into the expensive fabric of his waistcoat; another nearly falls off Percival’s thigh except the man catches him, and the kitten fits in his big hand. Percival says ‘Hello little guy, hello’ and strokes his head with a finger so very gently. 

Percival Graves and kittens. Newt thinks this might be heaven. 

“They’re so tiny,” Percival murmurs in awe. “Oh no no no, where are you going? Ow, not the claws, hey, not the claws --” 

Percival Graves swarmed by a pack of kittens is definitely the cutest thing Newt has ever seen. He can’t stop smiling. 

Neither can Percival, apparently - his cheeks are glowing with happiness, his eyes wrinkling attractively at the corners, his face and posture open and serene. He helps one of the kittens climb up his shoulder, where it sniffs Percival’s collar curiously, and gathers the other three together in his lap, petting them. Noticing Newt’s staring, he holds one of the kittens up. “Take him.” 

Esther kneels next to Percival, who gives her one of the kittens too, and she looks about to cry as she holds the tiny animal in her hands. She folds her arm and the kitten curls up in the crook of her elbow, seemingly having found a nice corner to nap in, and purrs as she scratches it behind the ears gently. 

“They’re up for adoption,” Madeleine informs them, beaming. “We already have three cats, and I got a friend who adopted one from this litter, but these four are looking for a new home!” 

“I’ll take one,” Esther says immediately. “My husband’s allergic but we’ll find a way to make it work. I've always wanted a cat.” 

“... I can take one too,” Geralt says hesitantly. “They’re rather cute.” 

“They’re adorable.” 

“Percival? Ahem, sir?” 

Percival had been busy making heart eyes at the kitten in his lap. “Hmm? Oh, I wish I could, but…” He sighs. “I wouldn’t have time to care for him. They deserve better than that.” 

“Newt?” 

Newt shakes his head. Same as Percival, he’s already got a lot of creatures to care for. 

“I’ll keep asking around then,” Madeleine concludes. 

Geralt takes one of the kittens. Percival gets up from his chair, his last tiny friend still perched on his shoulder like a very fluffy parrot. He brushes cat hair from his pants with little success, and walks up to Newt, who’s busy cooing at his own kitten. He’s already given it a name and everything. Oh, and she’s a female. 

“This is Kiara,” he says, showing the kitten to Percival, who smiles warmly. 

“Seems like she’s adopted you, uh.” 

“I do so wish I could take her in,” Newt says mournfully. 

“Hmm. You’ve already got a lot on your shoulders, haven't you, but I understand the sentiment.” 

“You look happy,” Newt remarks. 

Graves laughs. “You say that as if it’s the second coming of christ. Am I that sour and grumpy all the time?" 

“Well...” Newt ducks his head and avoids the question, though he knows Graves is just teasing him. “I’m really glad you liked our little surprise party here.” 

“Whose idea was it?” 

“Everyone’s, really. We figured you ought to know how much we all appreciate you. You’re a very good leader, Percival, and a good man, and a good friend.”

“...Thank you,” Percival says quietly. "I do try."

“I mean that,” Newt insists. “Met a lot of politicians in my life, after all, I know what I'm talking about." 

"Ah ah. While I can’t say I’ve met a lot of magizoologists in my life, I also really like working with you, Newton. You've very knowledgeable, and you are able to think outside the box. I really like that.” 

Newt swallows at the compliment, his heart picking up pace, heat rising to his face. “Thanks,” he mumbles, forcing himself to look straight at the other man. Percival meets his gaze. There’s a heavy moment of silence. Time slows down as Newt’s eyes flit from Percival’s own down to his lips, and he is overcome with the urge to simply kiss the other man. Percival wets his lips too, looking up at him underneath his dark eyelashes, and he leans imperceptibly closer and Newt thinks oh fuck -- and then Madeleine steps into their intimate circle with a plate of cake to offer them some. The moment is shattered. 

But… Newt didn’t dream it, right? Right? 

For a moment there he saw desire reflected back in Percival’s eyes… right? 

He refuses another helping of cake, but Percival does take an apple fritter and bites into it, smearing sugar across his lips. He licks them clean. 

Newt wants to kiss him so badly. Again. 

After an hour or so of festivities it’s time to clean up and get back to work, however reluctant they are to do so. 

For the rest of the day, the balloons still hang on the walls of the aurors’ room and kittens roam free in the office. They play with bits of string or red dots that the aurors make appear on the floor with the tip of their wand. 

Percival goes back to his office and keeps the pointy hat. It’s not a very productive day, work-wise, but it’s one that leaves everybody in high spirits when the evening comes, and certainly strengthens the bonds between colleagues. 

Around 8, Newt prepares to leave the bullpen as well. He tidies things up on his desk and takes his suitcase, turning off the lights as he leaves. He knocks on Percival’s door and hears a rumbling ‘yes, come in’. 

“Leaving for the day,” Newt says. Percival nods his assent, nose deep in paperwork. “Good night, sir.” 

“Good night, Newton,” Graves says absently. He dips his quill into ink and scribbles something down. Newt sighs. 

“Sir?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Would you - that is, would you like to grab a drink with me sometime?” 

Percival pauses, looking up at him above the rim of his tortoise shell glasses. “Why?” 

“B - because…” Oh bugger, he read this all wrong. A stab of fear lances through him.  “Err. No, nevermind, forget I asked. I’ll just - go. I'm leaving. Yes.” 

“Newt.”

“Yes?” Newt looks back at him, his palms sweating, only to be struck dumb. 

Graves is smirking. He’s never seen such an expression on his face and oh, that must be what Graves looks like when he’s really flirting. Newt feels weak in the knees. 

“It’d be my pleasure,” Percival purrs, and Newt makes a sound not unlike that of a startled mouse. He flushes and haltingly steps back, fiddling with the handle of his briefcase, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. 

“Oh. Oh that’s. That’s good then. Great. Brilliant. Hm. Is… after work tomorrow okay for you?” 

“It’s good,” Percival agrees. “Have a good evening. And Newt?” 

“Y - yes?”

“Remember to breathe.” And there’s that infuriating, smug smirk again. 

Newt vows to kiss it off the man’s face one day until Graves is the one struggling to remember how to breathe. He shall make Percival lose his carefully constructed composure. 

“Tomorrow it is,” he repeats, straightening up. “I look forward to it.” 

Graves shakes his head, as though he can’t believe he’s really doing this, but he’s still smiling. 

Newt makes his way out MACUSA and back to his flat with a spring in his step, happiness and hope bubbling inside his chest. 

He did it! 

And Percival agreed! Holy shit. This. Is. Amazing! By Merlin - tomorrow can’t come fast enough!