#I really feel like snake and ponytail would get along great because they are both silly

[theweirdcobrakaifan]

Snake and ponytail talking in the afterlife about terry and it sweet and wholesome and ponytail is proud of terry then snake fill him in on the John and terry divorce arc and ponytail is done with them both

@isindismay tell me how funny this would be lol but also wholesome

[petersnya]

SOMETIMES PT.2

---NOT MY PIC--- PETER PARKER X FEM!READER

Warnings: SMUT, Fluff, Angst?? Idk lol

Word count:2145

COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THE STORY AND WANT ME TO CONTINUE! SHOULD I START WRITING FROM PETER OR Y/N’S POV?

[A/N]Heyyy! Soooo this is part of this series (I’ll link part one). Hope you guys enjoy it! PLEASE COMMENT AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK AND IF YOU WANT YOU CAN SEND ME MESSAGES AND ASK QUESTIONS I'LL ANSWER LOL. Anyway, I had fun writing this chapter so I hope you like it! -J.T.S xxx

PART ONE

During physics class, Peter was working on an upcoming project with Ned, but he spent most of his time sleeping. He was basically sleep deprived from patrolling the town and stopping crimes.

“Late night huh Pete?” Ned asked, nudging Peter's arm that was supporting his head in the palms of his hands as his eyes got heavy, starting to close. 

“Yeah, had to stop some petty theft last night,” he began, a yawn interrupting him, “took longer than I thought.” 

The bell rang, dismissing the students to their after-school activities, if you had none you would just go home. Peter and Ned gathered their things and headed to the school’s front doors- MJ catching up with them how she usually did. 

“Man, you look terrible,” MJ said with a slight chuckle. 

“Wow, thanks. You're such a great friend.” Peter retorted sarcastically. Ned wasn’t riding the bus home today, he had to go with his mom for something he refused to share with anyone but Peter; so Peter just decided to ask MJ to walk home with her. 

“Sorry Parker, Y/N is picking me up today. You’re welcome to ride with us if you want though.” 

Peter didn’t respond for a while, debating if it was worth the anxiety attack of being around her. Y/N was the only thing that was on his mind now. His attraction grew even more when she wore those glasses. He zoned out for a while till MJ snapped her fingers in front of his face. Blinking rapidly, his vision focused on MJ who was now reaching out to grab the handle of a car door. Y/N’s car. His breath hitched in his throat once he saw Y/N wearing those same glasses from last Friday, her hair in the messiest high-ponytail he had ever seen- but it was cute to him.

“Ya coming lover-boy?” Y/N said, looking Peter right in his wide brown eyes. He blushed at the nickname before answering. 

“Yeah… I’m coming.”

The three teens got into the car and started on their way. “Hey losers, wanna go shopping?” 

“Y/N you only wanna go to the mall to eat,” MJ said to Y/N who was now laughing loudly, throwing her head back in agreement with her. Suddenly, in the middle of her laugh, she let out a loud snort. The car went silent as Y/N covered her mouth with her hand. MJ and Y/N burst into laughter, Peter soon joining. They all joked and sang to the songs that played on the radio all the way to the mall. 

///

“Dude!” 

“Jeez Y/N, you scared me! What is it?” MJ said to her, clutching her chest from being startled. They all had gone to the food court and were now just walking around the mall and into random stores. 

“There's a Build-A-Bear Workshop here!” she exclaimed excitedly, pointing at it like a child. Peter couldn't help but smile at how adorable she looked freaking out over a child’s store. 

“Let's go in,” Peter said to the two of them. Y/N looked at him wide-eyed with a goofy smile on her face. Her eyes looked like they twinkled with excitement. She shoved her drink into MJ’s hand, fixed her glasses, then grabbed Peter’s hand while running into the store. 

“Oooohh, I should get an H.P-themed bear!” Before Peter could even answer, Y/N dragged him to one of the workers, asking if she could get a custom bear. They went over to the station and started to build. 

As Y/N was finishing up the bear, she turned to Peter, “Ok, I have a very serious question. What accessories should I get?” they were standing in the Harry Potter section, looking over all of the things they had to decorate the bear. Peter shrugged, but then, he had a great idea, “I-I think you should get the uh, the glasses. The ones like your dads…” he said in an unsure tone. Y/N looked at him with a soft smile on her face. She couldn’t help herself, she had no idea what came over her as she pulled Peter into a tight embrace. Peter hesitated before putting his arms around her waist- her arms draped over his neck. 

At that moment, Y/N inhaled Peters sent heavily. She felt so… safe in his arms. Like nothing bad could touch her. She never wanted to break away- MJ’s voice brought them back to reality.

“You guys done, I need to get new converse,” she said with a smirk plastered across her face. Y/N quickly pulled away from Peter, a million thoughts running through her mind, but only one seemed to overpower the rest. 

I would be in his arms forever if I could.

“Ma’am, would you like to add a voice to your bear?” the lady said to Y/N, causing her thoughts to disappear. 

“Actually,” Y/N paused looking at Peter and MJ, “yes, I would.” She grabbed the recorder from the worker’s hand and sent her a small smile. She looked at the curly-headed girl and the brown-eyed boy was on either side of her. She explained her plan, “Ok, I want all three of us to say ‘Mischief Managed’, ok?” 

“What does that mean?” Peter questioned, looking at the two girls. They both sent him a deadly stare. “Nevermind,” he mumbled. 

“Ok, on three, one… two… three…” 

“Mischief Managed!” the trio yelled, causing some customers in the store to turn their heads and stare at them. They all mumbled small sorry’s as they laughed. 

///

“Ok, Peter what's one thing you hate?” MJ asked, turning to face him. They were all sitting in the car at a drive-in movie. Peter was now in the front seat while MJ was in the back. They all decided to just talk because the movie was pretty boring to them. 

“Uhh, I can't stand sleeping with socks on.”

“I don't think anyone can Parker,” Y/N said, laughing slightly. 

“Well what about you then?” he asked her, turning his full attention as he anticipated her answer. 

“Easy, liars. Ugh, I hate liars! What’s the point? It’s not like I’m gonna judge you,” Y/N answered confidently. “See, that’s what I like about you, Parker. You are very honest,” she said with a genuine smile. Peter just loved her smile, the way it lit up her whole face.

“Welp imma go get some pizza from the stand back there,” MJ said as she got out of the car. Y/N and Peter sat there in silence for a moment- comfortable silence. 

Y/N was the first to break the silence, as usual, “Hey, Pete. I just wanna thank you for the whole glasses thing last Friday. It really helped me realize that I should’ve worn the glasses the moment he gave them to me. It’s like I have a part of him with me now... And I love Harry Potter, obviously. Ya know, I took a quiz and found out what house I’m in! Can you believe that I’m in-“

“You’re welcome, Y/N” Peter interrupted her rambling, sending her a small smile. They stared into each other's eyes for a while, admiring one another. Peter got this warm feeling inside and had that same surge of energy he had when he first met her. Before even processing what he was about to do, he grabbed her hand without breaking eye contact. He fiddled with the ring she had on her thumb. 

Y/N breath became shallow as her heart pounded at her chest. 

“I’m in Slytherin,” she said randomly, looking down at how Peter’s hands played with hers. He let out a breathy chuckle. Their eyes met once again. 

Y/N gathered all of her courage and quickly reached out her hand to grab Peter’s cheek, pulling him into her. Their lips were centimeters apart. She ran her thumb along Peter’s bottom lip, slightly parting it as she leaned in closer, catching his lips with hers. Their lips interlocked and it felt like heaven to the both of them. 

They pulled apart from the soft kiss and slowly opened their eyes, starting again into each other's eyes searching for the words that weren’t said. Peter couldn’t contain himself anymore. His large hand grabbed the back of Y/N’s neck, pushing his lips into hers in a lust-filled kiss. Just like the one he had imagined. 

This was the moment he had dreamt of and it was finally happening. 

He ran his tongue over her bottom lip, begging for an entrance. She gave it to him without hesitation. His tongue slowly slipped into her mouth while her tongue ran into his. 

Peter snaked his hands to her waist, lifting her from her seated position in the driver's seat. She complied and started to adjust to where she was sitting in his lap. His hands ran from her waist to her butt and gave it a tight squeeze.

Y/N let out a soft moan into Peter’s mouth. She slowly started to trail kisses down his neck as he massaged her thighs and ass. 

Y/N hands got tangled in Peter’s brown curls. She began to suck on Peter’s neck, wanting to leave a mark. Peter let out a low groan at the sensation of her soft lips and wet tongue on his skin. 

He lifted her head and connected their lips together once again. His veiny hand slipped between their body making its way down to her core. 

Peter never did stuff like this, and neither did Y/N. all of this was new to them but their connection was so strong that they were willing to push the limits.

As Peter’s hand reached Y/N core, he placed two fingers right on top of where her clothed clit was. He began to draw circles against it. Y/N started to rock her hips over his fingers, yearning for more friction. She started to let out moans uncontrollably, whimpering at the euphoric feeling of his fingers pressed against her dripping core. 

“Peter,” Y/N breathed out trying to catch her breath. Peter hummed in response while moving his lips down to kiss her neck. 

Suddenly, Peter snapped out of the trance that he seemed to be in. This moment was the best moment of his life, but his damned mind couldn’t help re-play Y/N’s words on a lope: I hate liars. Why? Before they went to the movies and were still at the mall, Y/N had asked Peter about his Stark’s internship. And, of course, he couldn’t tell her the truth. So he just lied. Y/N looked so intrigued in the conversation but Peter couldn’t bear lying to her over and over again. He felt so guilty...

“Y/N,” Peter let out. “Y/N, we can’t do this.”

Y/N head snapped up, her glasses left crooked on her face. She looked stunned by his words. Her shoulders slumped as she started asking questions.

“What? Why? Am I not a good kisser? I’ve only kissed one person before but I don’t even really wanna count that. Does my breath smell bad? Ugh, I knew this was a bad idea- wait no! I didn’t mean it like that, I just knew you didn’t like me how I liked you… I’m so stupid.”

After Y/N was finished rambling, she put her face in her hands, trying to avoid eye contact with the chocolate-eyed boy. 

Peter was speechless. He didn’t know what to say, because what he wanted to say was: no Y/N that’s not it at all. You are the most amazing girl I’ve ever met, I- I lied to you… 

No. he couldn’t say that it would absolutely crush her and he couldn’t bear to hurt her. Peter put his hands on her waist, making Y/N jerk her body in shock. She let a small smile spread across her face, thinking Peter was going to hug her or make a cute gesture or even continue what they had started. He lifted Y/N and slid her back to the driver’s side.

Her smile dropped from her face and she pushed herself the rest of the way to the driver’s side. Peter sat there awkwardly, praying she wouldn’t say anything. It killed him to see the gloomy look on her face as she fixed her glasses. 

“I’m back with pizza!” MJ announced as she made her way into the backseat. “Woah, hey, cuz what’s wrong?”

“We’re going home,” Y/N replied with a cold tone of voice. This shocked Peter and MJ. Y/N was usually so smiley, even after her dad passed. She always tried to find the light in every situation. But something was different with this. One thing Peter knew for sure,

I fucked up…

[A/N] HEY GUYSSSS SO I HOPE YOU LIKED PART TWO. SORRY, IT WAS UP A BIT LATE, IVE BEEN HAVING INTERNET PROBLEMS. ANYWAY, SORRY FOR ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES (IM GONNA GO BACK AND FIX THOSE) 

-J.T.S XXX

@love-granger​

[seestorimperator]

Her full profile is finally here! Seven pages of information! I may have gone down the rabbit hole just a tiny bit! 

.

St. Cecilia Jameson

Gender: Cis female

Status: Alive

Occupation: Singer for British rock band Stiletto ("Like the knife or like the shoe?" "Yes.")

 Family: Elizabeth Robinson, née Wallis (Mother), Bryony Robinson (Older half-sister), Esme Robinson, née Davies (Grandmother, deceased), Herakles Zafeiriou (Biological father, though she's never met him), Evander Zafeiriou (Older half-brother, who she's also never met, though they've exchanged family photos and stories via email)

Voiced by: Florence Pugh (Speaking), Lzzy Hale (Singing)

Age: A few months younger than Pickles

Date of birth: December 15 (Sagittarius)

Place of birth: Oxford, England

Birth name: Felicity Robinson (Initially, only Sammy knows this, though the rest of SnB learns it at Esme's funeral)

Nicknames: Ceelie (By Pickles and Sammy, mostly, though the Dethklok boys pick it up eventually), Star (By Magnus), princess (By Skwisgaar)

Ethnicity: Half English, half Greek (Though she's unaware of the latter for most of her life)

Height: Five-foot-one

Sexuality: Bisexual

Relationship status: It's complicated. It's always complicated. She's unlucky in love. 

Current location: London, England

Appearance: St. Cecilia is a petite woman (She's half a head shorter than Pickles!) with golden skin and long white-blonde hair, which she wears in a high ponytail. She has thick, dark brows and bright brown eyes (Skwisgaar says she has "wolf eyes"). She has three white marigolds tattooed on each shoulder, a labret piercing, and a vertical collarbone piercing at the hollow of her throat. Her ears are pierced three times each, in which she wears two silver hoops and a silver stud on each side, and she has a small black star beneath each eye. She has a Christina piercing, nipple piercings, and a belly button piercing. She has a No Time For Antivenom tattoo on her sternum, and a European robin tattoo at the back of her neck. Along her spine, she has a tattoo reading "to thine own self be true." She has a shitty stick-and-poke crown tattooed behind her right ear. She has a pear body type, with wide hips, a small chest, and an even smaller waist (Nathan can encircle her waist with his hands). She typically wears a black muscle shirt, ripped dark jeans, heavy boots, black driving gloves, and a studded black leather collar with a D-ring at the front. She also wears a Gibson pearl guitar pick on a necklace, which was given to her by Pickles when they first started dating in the 80s. She wears a silver cuff on each ear, and her tongue is pierced with a simple silver stud. 

During flashbacks to the Snakes N' Barrels era, she's shown with darker blonde hair cut in a mullet style, and only her labret and ear piercings, plus one on the right side of her nose. She wears a cropped white tank, with high-waisted jeans and black Converse sneakers. She wears mismatched armbands, one black, one striped, and the same collar she wears in the present.

Her more casual look consists of a black button-up shirt with the sleeves pushed up, which she wears tucked into a pair of leather pants. She wears pumps instead of boots, and her hair is twisted up in a clip. She keeps her collar, but doesn't wear the pick necklace or her ear cuff, and she switches her hoop earrings for studs. She doesn't apply her stars.

For fancier occasions, she wears a black dress with spaghetti straps and a very short, flared skirt, black opera gloves and black strap pumps. She, as always, wears her collar with it, and she pulls her hair into a high bun. 

Personality: St. Cecilia is cocky, witty, and teasing, but ultimately good-natured. She's a bit selfish and stubborn, but she does everything with 110% effort, hoping to impress people, even if she winds up getting hurt in the process. She'll do literally anything for validation. To say she's vain would be an understatement. She's something of a coquette who flirts with both men and women, and is she has a tendency to "think with her dick," as Tony once put it. She's slow to anger, but quick to jealousy, and she holds grudges for far too long. She's the playful type, but it's largely in a chill way. She's an obvious extrovert, and the role as frontman for Stiletto came very naturally.  

Skills & Hobbies: St. Cecilia writes good poetry, great song lyrics, and terrible erotica. She likes plants and is quite the chess player (Though she hasn't managed to beat Charles even once), which she learned during her school days. She also learned to fence, ride horses, and speak fluent Latin there.

Musical Talents: She's a classically trained singer (When she was little, she was part of her church's choir), and she writes most of the song lyrics and some of the music for her band, Stiletto. In Snakes N' Barrels, she played lead guitar on a white Jackson Pro Series Rhoads RR3, but during their reunion concert, she plays a more modern Gibson Explorer '76 Reissue 2010 Cherry. She took piano lessons for several years as a child, and she's still pretty good. Nothing outstanding, but if Stiletto needs to incorporate a piano into a song, she's perfectly capable of playing it herself. 

Relationships: 

-Pickles the Drummer: Their relationship is a complicated one. They've known each other for ages, and they've been together through the highest highs and the lowest lows, all the way down to rock bottom. She partially blames him for her late teens and early twenties being the fiasco they were, and she cut off contact with him for a long time after the SnB breakup. During the run of the show itself, the two reconcile somewhat and even become more or less friends before Abigail shows up and things start to crumble again. They have a hard time admitting it, but there's love between them, and there has been for a long time. They're both afraid to try getting together again, though, as there's a mutual fear of the relationship ending as it did the first time, with them hating each other again. They're back together at the end of Doomstar, but there's no way of telling if the love between them is enough to keep them together or if they'll just fall apart all over again. 

-Magnus Hammersmith: They were more off-and-on than anything, but they were together for years, even though quite a bit of it was long-distance. It wasn't supposed to be a serious thing. It was just supposed to be a quick fuck. Then it was supposed to be a performance to annoy Pickles, but Magnus quickly realized that St. Cecilia's feelings for Pickles were too strong for her to be any use to him in his revenge plot. The basis of their bond formed because they understood each other on a level they've never known with anyone else: Former Snakes N' Barrels guitarist St. Cecilia Jameson and former Dethklok guitarist Magus Hammersmith both understand on a fundamental level what it's like to be left behind and forgotten. Magnus caught a bit of feelings, and when Roy Cornickelson's funeral came around, Magnus warned St. Cecilia not to attend. It was their last interaction, and it forever cast him in a positive light for her, even after she learned what he was doing with the Metal Masked Assassin. 

-Nathan Explosion: They get along pretty well. Their first meeting was at a singers-only Crystal Mountain party, and they ended the evening with a quickie in the coatroom. He wrote a song about the encounter, but Pickles never figured out that it was about St. Cecilia, which Nathan thinks is just the funniest thing. He mostly sees St. Cecilia as one of the guys once she meets with Dethklok again for the SnB reunion. It's a "been there, done that" kind of deal. She's not brutal, but she's funny and she's fun, and goddamn, is she pretty, and they would absolutely hang out if they could get their schedules to line up.

-Skwisgaar Skwigelf: St. Cecilia is nothing short of enchanted by Skwisgaar. It's not a crush, exactly, but she has a huge amount of admiration for him. They've practiced together a time or two, but she's a little rusty and winds up with her fingers bleeding because her calluses have gone soft. He tends to tease her over her soft hands. A guitar god, he tells her, can't have hands like a princess. His calling her “princess” becomes a bit of a thing for them. The two of them often have brunch together, talking shit and drinking. She's good for him; He's never had a female friend before.

-Toki Wartooth: Within the series itself, St. Cecilia hasn't given Toki much thought. He's cute, but he's just sorta there. His incident during the SOBERTOWN USA concert really scared her, and she more or less avoids him after that. Post-DSR, though, their relationship changes. He, like her, was hurt by Magnus, and even with him dead, Toki misses him terribly. St. Cecilia misses him, too. As sad as it is, this becomes their common ground. Their other connection, odd as it sounds, is pole dancing. St. Cecilia does it for exercise, and Toki did it for money, and they often compete to see who's better on the pole. 

-William Murderface: St. Cecilia actually has a begrudging fondness for Murderface. He's awful, but he's also pretty funny, and she likes to hear him talk about knives and medieval weaponry, as her family home is full of such things. They clash over things, of course, but she likes being around him more often than not.

-Charles Offdensen: St. Cecilia really likes Charles, actually. He's basically the only person on the show who's really "on her level" class-wise. He attended Harvard, and she attended Oxford, so they have a great deal to talk about. They play a lot of chess and fence on occasion, and if it weren't for her feelings for Pickles and his obligation to the Church, they just might have gotten together.

-Dick Knubbler: They're friends, in a way. She thinks he's kind of a weirdo, but he knows how to have a good time, so as long as he isn't hitting on her, she likes being around him. 

-Abigail Remeltincdrinc: They became friends mostly due to the fact that they were both women in the music industry (And both working for Crystal Mountain) and supporting each other seemed the right thing to do. Abigail getting involved with Dethklok and catching Pickles's attention quickly became a sore spot, and they drifted apart after that. After DSR, things got even worse. Abigail, naturally, is glad that Magnus is gone, while St. Cecilia is devastated by the loss. They had something of a falling-out over it, and they haven't really spoken since. 

-Edgar Jomfru: Despite being very different people, St. Cecilia really enjoys Edgar's company. He merely tolerates her at first, but she grows on him, to the point where they're legitimately friends come Doomstar. The two of them often have lunch together on the roof of Mordhaus so they can get some fresh air. 

-Family: St. Cecilia's family consists of her mother, Elizabeth, her older sister, Bryony, and her now-deceased grandmother, Esme. St. Cecilia has a very formal, cold relationship with her mother, and she has no desire to change that. As far as she's concerned, her mother doesn't deserve to have a good relationship with her. St. Cecilia adores Bryony, though. Though Elizabeth brags about her, Bryony remains modest and is very close with her sister because of it. Though there's seven years between them, they may as well be twins. Esme, who passed away in 1993, was more of a mother to St. Cecilia than Elizabeth ever was, and St. Cecilia still misses her terribly. She was a big part of getting SnB off the ground, and the boys even came to her funeral.

-Snakes N' Barrels: St. Cecilia adores all the boys, of course, but Sammy is the only one she really kept in touch with after the breakup. He was her favorite long before Pickles joined. There was a pregnancy scare not long after the band took off that somehow, against all odds, brought the two of them even closer. Sammy was St. Cecilia's first love. Her relationships with Tony and Snazz were much more professional, though none of them were anywhere near professional. The crown tattoo behind her right ear was done by Tony on a drunken night in, and it was too good a night for her to even consider covering it or getting it removed. 

-Stiletto: She gets along with them all quite well! She's known Niamh McLoughlin, their bassist, the longest, and their friendship dates back to their school days. Lex Clarke and Priyanka Dayal, the drummer and the guitarist respectively, came as a package deal, as they've been more or less married for years. St. Cecilia adores them and the sweetness of their relationship. She's a little envious of them, actually, though she would never say so.

History:

-Childhood: St. Cecilia was born in Oxford, England to Elizabeth Robinson. She was raised more or less at her family's girls-only boarding school, away from her mother. When she was fourteen, she fell off a horse during an equestrian class and badly injured her shoulder. She was one of the popular girls during her school days, up until she hit fifteen and decided that she was no longer a child and had a right to demand respect from her emotionally distant mother. She quit the piano lessons she had been taking for several years and took up the guitar, though it aggravated her injured shoulder and even as a teen, she developed a dependence on painkillers. This rebellious period stretched until she was sixteen and ran away with the help of her grandmother. St. Cecilia was given her name just before she left, so it would be easier for her to hide, as well as a hefty sum to tide her over until she could get herself settled. She was only in LA for a few weeks before she met Sammy at a bar where the SnB prototype band was playing. Naturally, Snazz and Tony weren't thrilled with the idea of Sammy's kinda-sorta-girlfriend trying to become their lead guitarist, and when Snazz disparagingly referred to St. Cecilia as Yoko, she broke his nose (How could he have not expected violence when a Beatles-loving British girl was called such a horrible thing?). This earned their respect and is an event that they laugh about to this day. 

-Snakes n' Barrels era: St. Cecilia stuck with the band for several months before they found Pickles, and she was smitten with him the moment she heard him sing. Esme was an important source of financial support during their formative years. The band made it big after not too long, and they all grew quite close. St. Cecilia ended up in an ill-fated off-and-on relationship with Pickles as time went on, and to this day she doesn't remember the first time she told him she loved him. It wasn't long after his first OD and his following stint in rehab that she told him, and they were both drunk in celebration of his release. His tolerance, even post-rehab, was far higher than hers, though, and he remembers, though he sometimes hates that he does. Though there was genuine love between them, the stress of the band and both of their substance abuse problems drove a wedge between not only the couple, but also the entire band. Coupled with Pickles fucking groupies behind St. Cecilia's back and St. Cecilia's becoming a rather serious Vicodin addict to combat the pain in her injured shoulder, the band was doomed. Pickles came to see St. Cecilia off on her flight back to England, saying he would meet her there when his next residuals check came in, but he never made it, and they didn't speak to each other for years afterward. It hurt, but St. Cecilia supposed it was for the best. A clean break, and all that.

-Preklok: After SnB broke up, St. Cecilia returned to Oxford, staying with Bryony in their mother's guest house as she tried to figure out her next move. Despite her gift for writing lyrics, she had no talent for writing books, and that idea quickly went down the drain. She still received a large amount of money in residuals, but she was reduced to a mere socialite, though it mostly agreed with her. At her mother's insistence, she attended a few classes at Oxford University. She absolutely loved it. In 1992, Esme passed away. St. Cecilia only told Sammy about it, but he took the initiative and brought Pickles, Tony and Snazz with him to the funeral. St. Cecilia was initially pissed, but she really appreciated the support. That was the only time she saw Pickles between SnB's breakup and their reunion concert. He was devastated when her parting words to him were "I love you with everything I am, but I never wanna see you again." In the mid-90s, she posed for an issue of Playboy, and Pickles has a copy of the issue tucked away somewhere. It wasn't until 1998, when she moved to a little flat in London, that St. Cecilia reunited with her school friend Niamh and the idea of Stiletto came about. They found Priyanka and Lex at an open mic night at one of the local clubs, and they hit it off, both as friends and as bandmates. They played at many clubs and pubs, and they were soon found by a scout at another open mic night. They signed with the UK branch of Crystal Mountain Records and were assigned the surly but efficient Melinda Glasscock as their manager, and within three years, Stiletto was huge, due in part to St. Cecilia's residual fame from Snakes N' Barrels. Their first tour was through Europe, but the second came to America, where St. Cecilia met Magnus in a bar post-show. They got on really well, and she invited him to her hotel room for the night. They exchanged numbers and got quite close over time, with her even flying him out to London from time to time so they could hang out. Magnus knew who she was from the start, and while he planned to use her feelings for Pickles to get her on his side, that soon faded and he came to genuinely like her. She wouldn't learn who he was until later on. A few years before canon, she had a quickie with Nathan in a coat room at a singers-only part at Crystal Mountain records, and he used the fact that she couldn't fit her mouth around his dick as inspiration for Dethklok's infamous song "Glasgow Smile."

-Season 1: 

-St. Cecilia's first mention within the confines of canon is during Performance Klok, when Pickles mentions he hasn't been in a serious relationship since the '80s despite the fact that he would certainly thrive under such attention. 

-She first appears in Snakes N' Barrels, during the documentary the Dethklok is watching. The guys are a little critical when they (Save Nathan, who's known for a long time) learn that part of SnB's downfall was due to Pickles's failed relationship with St. Cecilia. There's some comedic nonsense talk about fucking one's guitarist before Pickles goes to speak with Charles. Though St. Cecilia is working on an album with Stiletto when she's asked to go the reunion, she manages to push through and finish in time, though she arrives nearly late. She finds Pickles backstage, and when he sweeps in to kiss her, she pulls away a bit, saying they can't do this, as she's spoken for. She lets him hold her close, though. The rest of Dethklok finds them like that, and St. Cecilia excuses herself to go find Sammy, Tony and Snazz. There's some talk about Pickles not leaving Dethklok, which he says he won't, but they're rather worried after catching him with St. Cecilia in his arms. Meanwhile, she manages to find the boys, and they meet with Pickles backstage. While the boys partake of the Totally Awesome Sweet Alabama Liquid Snake, St. Cecilia doesn't, as she once humiliated herself by passing out on stage and doesn't wish to repeat the incident. She presses a kiss to Pickles's palm before they go on stage, an old ritual that they were never able to shake. What happens is far worse than someone just passing out, and she and Pickles leave the stage amidst the chaos while the medical Klokateers take care of the boys and see them off to the hospital. It's a disaster. She's embarrassed and angry, and she turns down Pickles's offer of a ride home and calls someone instead, as she didn't get her money converted and can't pay for a cab. This someone turns out to be the man who's claimed her, Magnus, and Pickles is none too happy about it. He tries to stop her from going with him, but it doesn't work. 

-She isn't seen in Dethkids, but she is mentioned. When Pickles starts drinking harder than usual, he finally gives in to the urge to call her, to talk about how Sammy and Snazz and Tony are doing, and to tell her that she should steer clear of Magnus. He's so drunk, though, that she barely has even an idea of what he's talking about. 

-Offscreen, but somewhere between the two SnB episodes, Magnus and St. Cecilia abruptly break up. She has a feeling something was going on with him, but his sudden disappearance really hurt her. They had been together off and on for years, after all. A few weeks before he left, he bought her a little pink knife and showed her how to use it, just in case he wasn't around to protect her. When he left, he left his guitar behind, and she still has it as of Doomstar. 

-Season 2: 

-She's mentioned by Seth in Dethwedding, though only as "that British chick" he thought Pickles would eventually have married. Pickles nearly decks him for even mentioning her.

-St. Cecilia's next appearance is in Snakes N' Barrels II. In part one, during the advertisement for the SOBERTOWN USA concert, she's missing from the band lineup, and Pickles is both relieved and a little concerned by her absence. 

-In SnB II part two, Nathan, Skwisgaar and Toki find her among the crowd at the SOBERTOWN USA concert. Nathan asks if she wasn't invited to play, but she says that she was: She just didn't think it was right to play without Pickles. Realizing that Pickles is sneaking around backstage, she leaves to go find him and try to keep him from doing something he'll regret. She only finds him just as Tony, Snazz and Sammy start freaking out, and she only just manages to keep Pickles from killing Rikki Kixx, though she honestly doesn't mind the thought of him dead. She pulls Pickles away from the stage, where he calls the Klokateers to take care of Sammy, Snazz and Tony, and she sets to icing down his bruised knuckles. She tells him that she and Magnus broke up, and he's thoroughly pleased about it: She's too good for him, anyway. That irritates her a bit, but she tells him to call her sometime, though she insists he do it when he's not drunk off his ass. 

-Season 3: 

-Ironically, when Pickles calls her in Dethhealth to inform her that he's dying, he's in fact drunk again. She wants to go to Mordhaus to see him, but he tells her to stay where she is, as he doesn't want her seeing him like that, though she's seen him at rock bottom as it is. At the end of the episode, he's drunker and higher than ever, but he calls her again to let her know he's all right. She can't understand him, though, so he puts Nathan on to explain. She’s thoroughly relieved, but she’s still considering going to Mordhaus to see him. She implores of Nathan, "Take care of him, all right?"

-Offscreen, in the time between Dethhealth and Dethmas, Pickles goes to London for a while to appease St. Cecilia, and to their mutual surprise, it's not really all that different from how it was when they were actually together. There's lots of cuddling and kissing and great sex and just... Hanging out. It's easy for them to be together. They have their share of problems, but the old spark between them is still there. Pickles is honestly a little scared of that: What if he falls for her all over again just for her to break his heart like she did last time? The fact that she has Magnus's guitar makes him doubly suspicious. He starts drinking harder than ever to drown out the thoughts of her. 

-In Rehabklok, when Pickles's drinking is brought to the attention of the band and he's sent to rehab, he tries for a while to blame it on St. Cecilia. She broke his heart, and he drinks to cope. It makes perfect sense, until he starts to really think about it and realizes that he's equally at fault for how their relationship (And also SnB) fell apart. He realizes, after many years, that he hurt her as badly as she hurt him. And that makes him feel even worse. He talks the doctor into letting him call her to apologize, but it doesn't go well: She's a little offended that he would even consider blaming her for his drinking, given he was a drunk long before they met. "Is that what I am to you now? An excuse to get drunk and act a fool?" Not long after that, Pickles realizes the real cause for his drinking.

-Just before Charles goes to speak to the UN in Doublebookedklok, he calls St. Cecilia and cryptically asks her if she speaks Latin. She owes him a favor for getting her out of some legal trouble, so she can't really refuse. Several months before, she punched a scummy paparazzo who called Magnus washed-up, and Charles used his reeducation program to keep those involved from pressing charges or damaging St. Cecilia's reputation. 

-Season 4:

-In Fanklok, before Charles meets with the band to discuss Klokikon, he welcomes St. Cecilia to Mordhaus and presents her with an ancient-looking journal that belonged to Aurelius Isambard, one of the original prophets of the Church of the Black Klok. She's taken down to the basement, where she's introduced to Edgar Jomfru, and gets to work. 

-In Diversityklok, after he's spoken to Edgar, Charles speaks to St. Cecilia. He finds her engrossed, but thoroughly worried. She asks if this is real, and she's even more worried when he tells her it is. 

-Offscreen, St. Cecilia has been hard at work translating the journal, and she's come to a passage that seems to describe the growing tension between the band. It also mentions an approaching star, and she takes to sitting on the roof at night to observe the sky. 

-In Prankklok, when Pickles tells Nathan that he's not allowed to drink any tequila during their friender-bender, Nathan tells him he can't visit St. Cecilia when they stop in London. Pickles reluctantly agrees. Not long after, we see Pickles on his phone, though, debating on calling her just before he notices the storm warning.

-Offscreen, St. Cecilia approaches Charles about a phrase repeated over and over in the journal: Fata sidus oritur, the star of fate is born. 

-After Charles breaks the news about Ice Festival to Skwisgaar in Bookklok, he goes to speak with St. Cecilia and Edgar in the basement. She's tacked two star maps to the wall: One from the previous week and one from the previous night. There's a spot near the center of the first map that seems bigger on the second one. She looks like the world is ending when she tells him it's the Doomstar. It's real. It's coming? When? Soon, she says. Far too soon.

-When Charles tells the boys he's going out of town in Dethcamp, it's to take St. Cecilia to an observatory, where they meet with Ishnifus and spend a few days tracking the Doomstar's movement as it comes closer and closer to Earth. 

-In Going Downklok, when Pickles shows up all decked out for his meeting with Abigail, Nathan is quick to ask, "Don't you have a girlfriend?" Pickles insists he doesn't; He and St. Cecilia was hurt and angry the last time they spoke. On top of that, he believes she's all the way in London, and Abigail is right there. 

-Offscreen, between Dethdinner and Breakup Klok, St. Cecilia is tagged in the video of Pickles leaving Dethklok by a drunken Toki. She's incredibly hurt. Pickles has nothing, he said. She, apparently, is nothing.

-In Breakup Klok, Pickles tries to call St. Cecilia to invite her to his wine tasting, but she refuses to answer and sends him straight to voicemail. Towards the end of the episode, after the escape from Salacia, Charles requests a check-up on Edgar and St. Cecilia back at Mordhaus, and Pickles is stunned and angry to learn that she's been more or less within arm's reach for months. Had he known, he's certain things would have been different-- He wouldn't have tried to make a move on Abigail and he wouldn't have fucked up his chance to get back with St. Cecilia again.

-Offscreen, St. Cecilia speaks to Charles about staying at a hotel for a few days, just until Roy Cornickelson's funeral, after which she'll return to Mordhaus and her translation work. The day of the funeral, though, she receives a call from Magnus telling her she absolutely cannot attend, as he can't guarantee her safety. It's the last time she has contact with him before his death. We also see her watching the news about Dethklok's breakup and the insinuation that Abigail caused it, and St. Cecilia chucks a bottle at the TV, mirroring Pickles's actions in SnB II.

-In Church of the Black Klok, St. Cecilia is fetched from the hotel by Klokateers and taken to the Dethsub, where she meets with Charles, pointedly ignores Pickles, and goes to work with Edgar instead. 

-The Doomstar Requiem:

-In "One of Us Must Die," St. Cecilia can be seen on one of the slides, staring up into the sky with Isambard's journal held to her chest. Towards the end of the song, reading from the book, she sings, "Dethklok, they must be rejoined/Evil, it must be destroyed/No more apathetic stoics/They can learn to be heroic/Write the song that will be our salvation..."

-In "Training," while carrying the journal, she sings the lyrics, "As the prophecy foretold, the Doomstar has been born/And you all will be endowed with a power known to none." Nathan, Skwisgaar and Murderface are looking at the art of the Prophecy, but Pickles is watching her. Ishnifus places a hand upon her shoulder, and they sing together, "The Deth lights are within you all waiting to be woken/And when the five are united, the evil will be broken," in a show of solidarity.

-In "En Antris et Stella Fatum Cruenti," just after Ishnifus is killed and the Doomstar goes red, we see a shot of Charles, Edgar and St. Cecilia at the Church, watching the sky. 

-In "Morte Lumina," in a mirror to Nathan and Abigail's kiss, we see Pickles approach St. Cecilia, and she presses a kiss to his palm (Which is a really significant gesture between them) before he pulls her into his arms. 

Trivia: 

-The stars on her cheeks are actually a makeup trick, as she's afraid to have a needle so close to her eyes. 

-She smokes Honeyrose Cherry cigarettes (Which have roughened her voice a bit), but she doesn't drink to excess, save when she's with Pickles. He's a terrible influence on her, but she adores him just the same. Considering him and Magnus, she has rather bad taste in men.

-Her signature scent is Estée Lauder's Cinnabar, which features notes of jasmine, orange blossom, cloves, and patchouli. She uses a cinnamon body oil when she wants to get Pickles's attention. It always works.

-She wants nothing more than to be loved, but she's keenly aware of the fact that most of the people who "love" her only want to coast on her fame. It's resulted in her having a hard time trusting people. The fact that Pickles and the rest of Dethklok don't need to coast off her is part of why she likes them so much.

-She's an iced coffee addict, and she prefers chocolate, caramel, or hazelnut varieties.

-She was raised Catholic, and while she lapsed a long time ago, she has occasional bouts of Catholic Guilt. Her name is related to her religion, as St. Cecilia is the patron saint of music.

-Her preferred alcohol is Bombay Sapphire gin, though she also likes white wine and champagne.

-She's a plant mom. Her flat is full of plants, including a little devil's tongue cactus she bought at a farmer's market in LA when she first came to America. It's traveled the world with her! It lived in the cupholder of Snazz's van for several years, and now it lives in her kitchen, perched on top of the microwave.

-She has a pretty serious oral fixation. She's always got something in her mouth: A cigarette, a pen, a popsicle, someone's fingers, a dick. Depends on her mood. Getting her tongue pierced helped a little, as she can play with the stud, but some habits just can't be broken.

-She and the rest of Stiletto own a condo building in London together, and she naturally has the penthouse to herself. It's very airy and open, with lots of mirrors and plants and exposed brick. One corner of her living room is just a huge window that looks out on the city. It's her favorite feature. Magnus is too nervous to go near it.

[bangingoutthetunes]

Sickeningly Sweet: Grovel.

Hi hi! This is a *very* long multipart Tendou x AFAB Reader fic. I’ll post it as different parts, and then I’ll  post the entire ~20k words as one giant wall of text so you don’t have to worry your pretty head about clicking a link and going to the next one. I feel like having both formats ready lets readers pick what they like the most! This fic explores *many* different kinks, so I really hope it is to  your liking. Suggestions and comments are greatly appreciated!

The parts in this fic can also be read independently of each other! 

NOTE: this fic was co-written with my great friend Jojo from @/bnhavibes (link to her writing tumblr here) all the way through. Please, check out her work on there and on her ao3 too! This fic will also be posted to her tumblr and ao3.

Enjoy!

~

Part 1 Part 2 Whole Fic

Part 3: Grovel

Word Count: 6.1k

Kinks/tags: blowjob, throatfucking, edging, overstimulation, knifeplay, marking, blindfolding, humiliation kink, corruption kink, mirror kink, smut to fluff 

“Are you gonna say something or just stare at my cock like a starving stray kitten?”

You purse your lips before pinching his nipple, earning a small yelp and hands at your wrist. “Shut up and let me suck your cock.”

Hands in the air as if to show he meant no harm, Satori backed up until he could stand on the floor. You scooted over to the edge and arched your back so he got a nice view in the reflection behind you as you pumped at his sticky shaft. Coated in precum mixed with your arousal, his cock was harder than you’d ever seen it before. The usually thin veins along the side and the larger one on the underside were all thickened and pulsating roughly as your hand squeezed his cock. The traction was annoying, however, so you dug your tongue into your saliva glands to produce more of your spit before taking the head of his cock against your lips and letting the drool drizzle out over it.

Tendou moaned softly at the feeling of your warm spit kissing the head of his cock like that, and your hand was quick to capture the liquid before it dripped off; pumping his shaft made the saliva spread faster and you got him nice and prepped before your lolled your tongue out and swirled it around the first few inches of his dick. The sound of his shuddering breaths and sinful hissing combined with the sparse sucking and wet sounds of your mouth taking his length in and out drove Satori crazy.

“Look at you,” He muttered under his breath, “Sucking my cock so earnestly.”

You looked up at him as you brought your second hand to help, taking what you could of his cock into your mouth and hollowing your cheeks out as you bobbed your head up and down in time with your squeezing fingers.

“Haaah!~ Fuck, who’s my greedy little cocksucker? A-Ahhhh, yeah, that’s you doll, mmmnnn, you really suck my cock like you mean it, huh, (name)?” His dirty hissing nestled itself behind your ears and drizzled into them like sweet confection; you began to release the subconscious tension in your jaw, letting him dip further into your throat until you gagged slightly with each bob, saliva dripped down your chin and onto his fingers in your hair as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuuuuuuck~, baby, that’s s-soooo fucking good, ughhh~, God, good girl.~”

You moaned on his shaft, his praise feeding your desire and you sucked hard as you removed yourself to breathe, pumping his cock with the perfect amount of twist to your wrist and squeeze to your fingers that always made him go wild.

“Haaah! Uuhhhnnn, fuck, sugar, you’re gonna kill me.” Satori’s chest rose erratically as you collected the spit in your mouth again and you made him open his eyes as your hand focused on the slit at the tip of his cock, cupping and twisting your hand around the tip had him teetering on the edge and then…. you spit on his cock.

The change in his lustful facial expression was prominent, and a feral haze took over as he looked down at you with a dominance that brought the fire in your belly back to life. He smirked darkly, taking his fingers out of your hair to pull it into a ponytail in one hand as the other came to rest on your jaw. You settled onto your knees, already drooling more as you slid his cock past your lips. Holding your head in place helped you, but you knew better than to assume he was trying to make things easier on you. The amount of times you’ve gone down on him scoffed at the idea of receiving kindness from the man whose cock was nothing but greedy.

Several times over the past year he’s been the cause of a sore throat outside of flu season. You let him go wild on you because you’d never slept together. It was only fair in your mind, but you’ve only seen him get this riled up one other time—You knew you were in for it when his fingertips gave a teasing slap to your jawline.

Your head is dragged up his shaft by the ponytail, and you close your eyes in preparation of monitoring your breathing and he cooed about how pretty you look with his dick lodged down your throat. Then it happens; in a blink of an eye, you feel lightheaded and disoriented as Tendou’s hands grip the sides of your face and shove you into his crotch ferociously.

Gagging had your eyes shooting open with tears spilling out of the sides as he grunts heavily with his jaw clenched.

“You like to spit on cocks now, you filthy slut?” He growled, “Who’s been teaching you these naughty fucking tricks, doll? God, you’re so fucking lucky I love you, d’you know that!?” The aggressive side of Satori only made your pussy quiver and eyes flutter shut as he fucked your throat. “Uuughhhhggh, fuck, choke on my cock, doll, take it in your throat like a good girl.” The absurdity of the situation and how quickly he changed from being the attentive and doting best friend to Daddy Dom tryhard made you laugh on his dick, and the vibrations of your mouth against his hard cock sent shivers up his spine. Breathing out through your nose, you looked up at him and smiled with your eyes. You were clearly enjoying yourself. Your tongue instinctively flattened against the underside of his dick, and in a shaky motion you grabbed his hip with your hand to steady yourself against his unrelenting rhythm. His pace fluttered at the unexpected touch to his side, and you took this as an opportunity to gain the upper hand and snaked your other hand to his asscheek, toying it in your grasp and massaging it like putty. 

Looking up at him between fluttered eyelashes, you saw his head thrown back as his chest heaved erratically.  His lips were parted in a silent stutter, but in spite of this he panted like a dog. With every thrust into your mouth he reached deeper and deeper still into the back of your throat. You were sure your uvula would fall off at the unrelenting thrusts. In spite of seeming in control, you knew that he was nothing more than a puppet; seizing the opportunity and knowing his eyes were screwed shut as he focused on keeping his impending orgasm at bay, you pulled yourself in, hands squeezing at his ass, and buried your nose above his dick. His whole body shook with a wave of pleasure.  “Sugar, pleas-ughhhhhhhhhh oh GOD.” He began to tremor in your grasp, and as you further nuzzled your nose into his crotch you began to feel the back of your throat tighten around his cock as you forcefully swallow, desperate to milk it dry. 

Satori gasped and involuntarily rolled his hips into your mouth, hissing at the feeling. “(name)-chan, I’ll be all fucked out if you continue at this pace--please.” You replied with a soft hum against his dick, sending vibrations up to the shaft that prickled pins and needles on his skin. With no warning, you teased your right hand closer to his asshole, spreading his cheeks as your left hand lightly traced your fingernails from his tailbone down. He was your prisoner, he became your bitch, if only for these sweet moments while he clasped his hand over his mouth to stifle a cry as his pull on a makeshift ponytail grew tighter by the second. The fingers feathering over his ass, your nose buried in his crotch, your throat spasming around his twitching dick and the look of I’ve won that you gave him through narrowed and greedy eyes was going to send him over the edge. “I’m about to come, (name)-”, he warned, but as soon as you heard those words whispered your grip on his ass tightened and a loud SLAP echoed throughout the room. You pulled off of his twitching dick, cheshire grin etched onto your face as a string of saliva mixed with bittersweet precum connected your lips to the throbbing head of his cock. He stared at you, hand still clamped over his mouth, as he registered what just happened. You just stopped him from cumming inside your throat, and to add insult to injury you slapped his ass. 

“Don’t tire out on me just yet~” you cooed at him as a bittersweet reminder of how he edged you so cruelly before. He let out a muffled sob and he pulled you to sit up from the makeshift ponytail to glare at you. He looked like he was planning your murder. Pushing you back onto the mattress, he straddled your thighs and eyed you like a hawk ready to swoop in and pounce on its prey. You could feel his dick twitch against your right thigh, prompting you to buck into the ghostly touch. 

He leaned down to whisper into your ear, hot breath fanning onto the side of your face, “You’ve really done it now, haven’t you?” He traced his left fingers from your shoulder down your arm, leading to rest his thumb and pointer finger on either side of your wrist. Then, in a swift motion, he locked the rest of his fingers around it and pulled your hand to lay flat on the mattress above your head. 

Satori reached over to the nightstand and yanked the sheathed knife and a long piece of silk fabric. Letting go of your wrist, he toyed with the silk and twirled it in between his fingers while eyeing you with a cocked eyebrow.  “Are you ready, (name)?” His lips were parted and curled into a smile. “Y-yeah…” Your eyes shone like stars in anticipation for what was to come. Cradling your head at the back of his hands, he set the fabric below your eyebrows. Once,  twice, he folded the fabric back to ensure it was snug against your lashes so you couldn’t see anything. He tied the silk against the side of your head. It felt so soft against your skin, and your legs twitched in anticipation to what he would do. “Steady your breathing and relax, it will help you feel more, okay?” He ran his palm across the left side of your cheekbone all the way down to  your jaw, tilting it upwards. Although you couldn’t see his eyes, glued to your face to look for any  signs of discomfort, you could make out the faintest of shadows and you hear him stir. “Yeah, give me a minute to calm down and then, whenever you’re ready…” He hummed happily in reply.  

The cool air of the room filled your lungs and slowly, but surely, you began to feel your jaw unclench and your lips part open. Your steadied breathing spread from your chest down your arms, rested at your side, and legs, still warm from Satori’s perch on your body. You heard him unsheath the knife and a cold sensation licked up your spine to rest at the base of your neck. It felt like forever had passed until he finally pressed the cold metal to the right side of your neck. 

“You had been such a good girl for me all night, (name)-chan.” The knife pricked your skin like ice-cold nails were being lightly grazed on the flesh. “Then, you decided to pull a fast one on me and wound me. Good girls don’t wound and break their men’s hearts, now don’t they?” You felt the knife drag past your collarbone and rest on the indentation below it. He applied more pressure on the area, and with a quick swipe you felt the cold metal cut into your skin.  A shaky cry left your lips from the initial sensation, but a swipe of his tongue on the afflicted area led to a suck up of cold air from the pressure. The sweetness of his tongue lapping at the skin pooled in between your thighs, and you could feel the goosebumps prickle on your underarms. “I think I have no choice but to teach you a lesson~” His voice rung at the bottom of your ear and he lightly nibbled on your earlobe. “I think I’ll go ahead and carve my name into your body so everyone that comes too close for comfort will  know you’re my little slut.” He peppered the back of your jaw with air-light kisses, trailing his lips down your neck to where it met your shoulder. He took a bite out of the flesh, rolling it in between his teeth  and smirking into your skin at the agitated cry you let out from the stimulation. All the while, he lightly drug the knife down to  rock the sharp side up  and down your sternum into the flush skin in between your breasts. When satisfied from feasting on  your shoulders, you felt his chin  lift off of you. He traced the knife up from your chest and began to cut his name in kanji into your flush and angry skin. He continued this pattern of carve, cry and lick until his name was freshly wounded. He licked up the drops of blood that would spill. “Mmmm, buttercup, your blood tastes as sweet as your pussy does.” He sunk his teeth into his kanji and laughed when you stifled a cry with your hand cupped over the bottom half of your face. 

He lifted his weight off of your body and lifted the blindfold from your eyes, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes and nose wrinkled in anticipation. He sneered down at you, wickedly, and placed the tip of the knife below your jaw. “Are you enjoying this, doll?” You nodded and leaned into his touch.  Eager to prove his point, you tilted your jaw to the side, leaving the edge of the knife in midair, and you leaned up to take it into your mouth to suck your blood off of it. It didn’t taste bitter, as you would’ve expected, but you were unsure of whether this was due to the blood itself or the sweet feeling of chocolate that lingered in your mouth from his kisses. 

Satori seemed to keen over at the sight of you. The edge of your knife was half falling  out of your mouth, the blindfold was nestled onto your forehead, and you fluttered your eyes at him behind a curtain of lashes and a heavily flushed face. In this vulnerable of a position, looking up at him so eagerly, you were begging for nothing more than to be fucked senseless by him. And what choice did he have but to oblige for his princess? He rutted his hips forward, but not close enough to aid your ache and discomfort, and he pushed his hips upwards to rest the angry tip  of his cock, desperate for release,  in between your labia. 

You gasped, heart thumping out of your chest at the overwhelming sensations of his cock nestled in between your folds and the dull side of the knife tracing loops from your neck down to your collarbone. Your cunt clenched around nothing and you choked on a sob; you didn't know how much more you could possibly take of this before release. 

“S-satori…” your hips rolled into the friction from his gentle thrusts between your labia. “Satori…”

He loomed over you, the sharp tip of his nose nuzzling against yours. His breath, smell reminiscent of dark chocolate, fanned over your face. “The way you coo my name is going to be what ruins you, sugar.” The edge of the knife pricked your shoulder and ran along your neck to rest underneath your jaw, causing you to yelp due to the contrast of cold metal against flushed skin. “Now, tell me what it is you want me to do.”

“I...I…” the verbiage latched to the inside your throat and you felt like you couldn't speak. You felt the cold metal make contact with the bottom of your chin, so your eyes tilted upwards to make contact with the redhead. 

“Spit it out. “ He thrusted upwards, the precum that shone on his dick coating your clitoris. 

“Just fuck me already, please,” you whined, breath staggered and pleading for any friction you could take. 

“You're going to watch me ruin you, sugar.” He placed a hand on the left side of your jaw, coaxing you to watch from the mirror. He leers over you, gargantuan in size, and the hilt of the knife glistened in the lamplight like morning dew. You were both bathed in sweat and you shone, like brilliant stars in the stead of dawn, blanketed under the room’s sultry ambiance. Your eyes locked, eye contact made in the mirror. His eyes were a mix of emotions; they were lust-filled, sadistic, gentle, analytical. 

A pull of his right cheek revealed that shit-eating, devilish grin that first sparked your attraction for him all those years ago in high school. Your body twitched as his free hand moved to grasp his shaft from between your labia, getting his fingers messy once more in the process, and slide the tip so painfully slow down your slit. His eyes met yours in the reflection as he brought his cock to your entrance, and you could feel your hole clench over the appendage as he just barely dipped into your walls.

“You’re so perfect,” He moaned, “Clutching to me like that, ‘M gonna think you’re in love with me, too.”

Before you could realize what he’d said, he thrusted his hips roughly into the underside of your thighs. Immediately, your skin felt like melting off and the cry you let out had your back arching up from the mattress as you stretched out your neck.

“Fucking beautiful.” He muttered, continuing to fuck into you at an even pace.

From this angle above you, he got to see you in your entirety. He got to see how moonlight pooled above your collarbones and shed shadow to the skin below and how it tainted the side of your neck and upper shoulders in its pallidity; he could see every time you bit your lip, every time you squeezed your eyes shut at the foreign feelings now flooding your senses, every blush that painted your beautiful face. And for a forever stuck in time, he let you get comfortable as your walls fluttered around his twitching dick.

It was almost artistic, the way your breasts bounced with every snap of his hips, the pebbles of drying blood on your clavicle marking you as his, and the high pitched cries of his given name raising an octave as he pursued your orgasm in its finality. You were so warm inside, just as he’d always imagined.

Steadying his weight on his left hand, he ran his other up your chest, shakily, and locked his thumb and forefinger behind the back of your jaw. The pressure was imperceptible at first, but when he shifted his hand to lay flat against your trachea your vision went black. There was nothing to see with your eyes; your body was set on fire and your senses were flooded with unnamed prickles and drops of sweat. Inner walls of your cervix fluttering against his thrusts, you sobbed and tears spilled, painting constellations behind your lashes. Your head snapped back into the mattress, tears staining the once-had-been-crisp-white sheets.

“Auughh, fuck, (Firstname), you’re so f-f-ucking tight”, he hissed.  He removed the hand at your throat and grasped onto your hip with the knife pressing into his own hand. His pace increased as your walls trembled around his shaft, begging him for more. “Haaaah~ Oh fuck, oh fuckohfuckohfuck, fuck yeah, baby~!”

Your tears were constant then, fingers digging into the sheets and his shoulder as you fucked yourself into his lap, eager to give him everything, every part of you so long as you finally felt that sweet release you had been craving for so long. “Satori-kun!~ Huuunnnnnnnhhh~, fuck, me, oh godddd, fuck me please, Satori, fuck, fuck, fucking hell~”

The quiver in your tone sent shivers down Tendou’s spine, and he, too, began to spasm. “Fuck, yeah, you’re so-- perfect~!”

Your hands found their way to his back and you dug your nails in to keep yourself in place.  The way Satori bit his lip while he steadied his weight on his arms to fuck your brains out looked hot as fuck in the mirror. With heavy eyes, you almost felt your consciousness slipping away, and you were so tempted to succumb to the rhythmic snapping of his hips into your own. Every thrust became more frantic and needy; every buck of your hips into his ministrations brought him closer and closer to that unreachable precipice. His name, coaxed out of you like a sweet melody, steadily crescendoed until your throat felt hoarse. You could feel yourself begin to involuntarily spasm and clench around his dick, greedy for more than you could take. 

“Won’t you come for me, baby?” 

You clawed at his shoulder blades and buried your face in his neck, nipping against his skin to keep the sobs at bay as the knot in your abdomen grew uncomfortably tight. He removed you from his chokehold to steady himself on the mattress once again, rhythm growing erratic and his breathing became shallow; he, too, would be nearing his end.

You felt Tendou’s arm pull you close to his chest until the two of you molded together as one. You were both sheened in a slick pane of sweat, and the moonlight floating in through the window made it look like two of you were glowing. He ran his hands up and down your back and sides in a soothing motion, and when he felt you tremble under his touch he placed his hands at the small of your waist.  

What Tendou saw right before his impending climax was your eyes fluttering shut and your head lifting slightly to kiss him as gently as you could. The tenderness of your fingers, lightly tugging his hair from how weak you had become, of your warm mouth and half-parted, swollen, silky lips, of you, so pliant and destroyed underneath him; it was all such a stark contrast to the harshness of his thrusts and his unrelenting rhythm. “Mhmm, that’s it, you're doing amazing, sugar,” he whispers, more tenderly than you’d ever heard him speak, as he accompanied you through your orgasm, slowing down, gradually, allowing you to ride it out on him.  

And then, as if out of thin air, the knot expands and snaps at the behest of the stimulation to your g-spot. 

The coils in your abdomen were white-hot as your far too delayed orgasm finally returned, drowning you underneath its cold, cold merciless waves. You let go of everything tethering you to that plane of existence and arched out of the mattress, too far gone to register anything with your senses. The wind was knocked out of you in a loud and final cry, and your pussy clamped down the hardest it ever had on any dick you'd taken before. It milked his cock in a greedy manner; warmth flooded your womb, your cervix now marked with his milky white cum.

The intensity of the feelings was akin to one of those life changing, world stopping, earth stops spinning, time freezing orgasms that very few experience in their whole entire lifetime, and the two of you felt like the stars had aligned for this to happen as it did that night.

“Sator-hnnngn!” You cried out, and all you knew is that this is what people covet so desperately, this is what people chase after and kill for when having their guts rearranged. Your nails lose their grip on his neck and his hands only clench more tightly against your back and waist, but it was fine, because he finished because of you, groaning and nestling his head in between the space your neck and shoulder provides. There was a deep whine hidden behind each heave of breath he huffed out against your skin, and you’re almost sure he came just as hard as you.

He pulled himself out from your core and collapsed his weight on top of you from the exhaustion. His breathing was shaky against your collarbone, and his hands wandered up your sides until they found your own. He laced his fingers into yours and guided the front of your hand up to his mouth, peppering soft and ghostly kisses up the palm along your knuckles, nuzzling his nose into the crooks and nibbling so lightly on your skin that it felt more like gentle breaths if anything. He was right there, above you, eyes soft and tender, looking at you with the most dumb expression painted onto his face. He looked as if he could break out into a lazy, high grin at any second. 

“I'm giving you kisses for every time I've wanted to make you cum, by the way.” He pressed your palm into his lips and smiled. 

“God, you weirdo!” You laughed at this, throwing your head back a little bit and the sound was like music to his ears. “Did you count?”

“No, you really think I can do math? I can’t even spell guarantee. I'm just guessing, and to be fair you did sing for me plenty, so...so I want to give you a lot of kisses too. Thank you... for all of this, sugar.” He dripped his words in an ocean’s worth of sincerity, and the gesture made your heart skip a beat.

“I should be the one thanking you, Satori. You're always so sweet, and considerate, and such a fucking goofball. You always make me laugh, even with your dick lodged in my throat.” he peered up at you, torso now shifted in between your thighs and you could tell from your vantage point that he was dangling his feet off of the mattress, kicking them in contentedness. 

“Well, honey, that’s the plan! Is there anything I can get you? Would like some water or an extra blanket? Are you hungry?” 

“If you try and wiggle away from me I'll have your head. Don't move away, you're too warm~,” locking your elbow into his armpit, you pulled him up to face you and buried yourself to whine into his neck. 

He shifted his hands to below your back and rolled over so you were resting on him instead. He was hot to the touch, and his neck was a bit sweaty, but you couldn't be bothered to care. You hummed into his chest and listened to the gentle lull of his stilling heart.  He gave a heady laugh and wrapped his arms around your waist, lightly tracing what you didn't know were I love yous into the backs of your hips.

Everything was still, everything was perfect. You peered out the window to your left and appreciated that Tendou’s apartment was far removed from the city; the street lights were shut off, so you could see the glimmer of stars millions of light-years away adorning the inky black and cloudless sky. Your eyes widened in surprise at the revelation, and a smile couldn't help but make itself onto your lips. It seemed fitting to stare up at such a beautiful sky with such a beautiful man, both inside and out, resting beneath you. 

But god fucking damn it, you really had to use the bathroom. 

He stirred awake at the sudden absence of your touch. “Actually, give me a sec- I'm gonna get up to go pee.” Sitting up and resting your hands onto his chest for support, you began to shake yourself off of him when he wordlessly sat up, cracked his neck from side to side, and tilted you with his right arm against the small of your back so that your legs dangled off of his left. With a quick hmmphm, he got up with you in tow and made his way towards the door. 

“H-hey! What do you think you're doing?”

“I'm bringing you to the bathroom, idiot. There’s no way I'll let you walk there to just wobble on the floor and collapse from exhaustion.”

“But, Satori,” you pleaded, the worry clear in your voice, “You're probably more tired than I am. With all you’d been doing, you'll collapse!” 

He huffed, “No, I won't, I wouldn't ever dream of falling if it meant dropping you and risking getting you hurt, angel.” He continued to make his way to the bathroom as he ghosted kisses along your forehead. Laughs echoed in the halls of his apartment at far too ungodly an hour, but neither one of you could be bothered to care. It was only you, him, and the unexpected comfort brought by the vulnerability you were both practicing. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling into his kisses, welcoming them with your hands pressed to his chest. Your eyes shone brighter than stars and your face lit up the room, as if adorned with fairy lights, when you made contact with those beautiful eyes of cognac whiskey and scarlet peering down at you from his vantage point. To him, you were glowing. 

He bumped the bathroom door open with his hip and kicked the seat up with his foot, because he did not want to lose his hold on you for any reason. If that meant using his foot as a hand, then so be it. “Be careful, princess,” he murmured as he shifted you to sit on the porcelain throne. You burst out in laughter once again at the ridiculousness of this all, and he couldn't help following suit. He sat down on the floor and rested his head against your knee, staring into the wall in front of him.

“(Name)?”

“Yeah?”

“So...how was it?” 

You raked your fingers into his hair and scratched his head. “It was nothing short of the best sex I've ever had.”

The room was dark, as any moonlight streaming in through the window was blocked by the shower curtain, but you knew Tendou’s lips were curled into a smile. 

“See? Now I can say I told you so. I never dissapoint, (name).” 

“Seriously, you blew away any expectations and anxieties I had. You were so attentive and careful and always prioritized my pleasure... If I didn't know any better, I would've thought you were in love with me.” You half-hoped his mid-coitus confession was just your imagination, but with the high you were feeling right about now, you were confident enough to take a jab at him for it anyways. Tendou let out a dry laugh. Would confessing in the bathroom post-sex be a romantic or embarassing answer to “when did you find out you loved each other? 

“What’s the matter?” You asked him, and you spoke to him so softly, so sweetly and gently in tone of voice, that his heart would burst out of his chest, and he couldn't possibly bear it any longer. God fucking damn it, perhaps you’d resent him and hate his guts for ruining your easy relationship with his complicated feelings, but it had been too long and...he just couldn't stay quiet and still about the screaming in his chest any more.

He let go of his embrace of your calf to sit up straight on his knees. When he sat up to rest his elbows on your thighs, he was almost at eye level with you. “Well, (name), I had told you that I had been waiting for a really long time to do this with you. Nothing, no one else, really caught my attention since that first time we kissed all those months ago. This was the buildup of all that anticipation.” 

You smiled at him, trying to assume that he wasn't being romantic, and told him: “I'd been wanting this for forever, Satori. I'm really glad it happened with you.”

“For forever, you say? That’s an awfully long time. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re in love with me,” He smirked at you with a knowing grin, clearly proud of himself for his word play, “Because if that were the case then I would feel the same. I've been in love with you this entire time, (name).”

“So have I.”

A comfortable silence followed shortly after as you peed (no UTIs here, thank u), and when you were done Satori shifted so he could rest his head on your shoulder. His messy ginger hair was slick on his forehead, eyelids fluttered shut and lips half-parted. He looked like a baby, more at peace with himself and where he was than anyone else in the world. His eyes opened, smiling, and he began to speak:

“If it were up to me, I could really stay like this forever.”

“Yeah, imagine how nice it would be to, like, die and have your final moments be something so blissful, with your final memory made being nothing short of perfect.” 

“Are you saying you feel so happy you could die?”

“I s’pose so, Satori.”

For the nth time that night, the space between the two of you seemed to disappear as he tilted his head up to capture your smiling lips in a kiss. He was surprisingly gentle in a way he hadn't been before; what had been apprehension and anxiety melted away into newfound confidence and ebullience that seeped through his smile and into your own. 

The kiss was soft for the first second, but then all those pent up feelings he’d kept buried under lock and key for too many years to count took control of him and he kissed you with an insurmountable fervor that caught you off guard. When he finally stopped to bask in your expression, ladden in wide-eyed wonder, he wore this gigantic smile on his face that invited you to beam at him in return.

“Should we re-confess tomorrow when we're, you know, not ass naked in a bathroom?”

“I think this has its charm, but I will gladly confess to you as many times as I need to. I don't think I'll ever get tired of it.” You retort as he lifts you to your feet from your throne.

“No, duh, I mean, of course I'll never get tired of that, but I am pretty tired now.” He says while you wash your hands.

“Well, I can guarantee that you’ll be the first one up and walking tomorrow.” The opening was there, you just couldn’t resist, “That’s g-U-a-ran-t-e-e.” Your pointer finger boops the middle of his chest as you emphasize the “U” for dramatic effect.

“Or my money back?” Satori knocks his first two knuckles against the center of your forehead as he shakes his head and lifts you back up into his arms, “You better keep your end of the deal, honeypot, don’t go breaking my heart.”

“I could never!” You say as he walks you back to his bed, “Shattering your spirit is enough.”

The two of you laugh as he tosses you in bed under the duvet. Your eyes start to feel heavy as you hear Tendou humming that silly old Baki Baki song he made up in high school, the dirty top sheets being removed and when you blink, you’re somehow laid up against his chest, arms curled up and head nestled on them as his hands tressed through your hair.

Slightly delirious from the sleepiness, you wondered aloud: “Did you really want to try all of this with me?”

“I would’ve died if I had to go  another day without this,  (firstname). You saved me just in time.”

His voice sounded peaceful, and sleepy, and it was so new to see this gentle side of him. It felt strange in the best way possible.”

“Satori?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been in love with you for what feels like forever, Satori.”

He smiled into a kiss on your forehead, “I know.”

Part 1 Part 2 Whole Fic

[pandoraborn]

Cruelty of the Beast - Part 11

( previous. )

Characters: c!Dream, c!Tommy, c!Techno, c!Phil Word count: 2398 words Content: hostages, kidnapping, manipulation mention, brainwashing mention, betrayal, acceptance, bonding,

-----

“I don’t understand, why couldn’t I have gone with Wilbur?” Tommy grips the crossbow tightly as he follows Dream. He looks back over his shoulder as the portal they’d come through is washed out by the falling snow. He doesn’t like where he is, he doesn’t like where they’re going, and he especially doesn’t like that he and Ranboo have been separated again.

“Because yours and Ranboo’s little stunt set us back, and we don’t have time to gather what we need, so we’re going to get help,” comes Dream’s curt reply.

Above all else, Tommy really doesn’t care for how snarky the man is.

He’s coming to accept that Dream is a man, slowly. He’s coming to accept that the tall, blond man is not a god, just a pathetic loser who’d dabbled in powers he shouldn’t have been messing with. With this mindset, Tommy can almost tolerate him. Without his mask, he looks no more intimidating than Tubbo.

They’re both armed with crossbows and heavy jackets. Tommy’s hair is now almost as long as Dream’s, and both have their hair pulled back in tight ponytails. It had been Wilbur’s idea. The idea of them looking similar doesn’t disgust Tommy as much as it should; maybe he’s grown too used to being around Dream.

“By help, you mean we’re taking hostages,” Tommy replies. “This isn’t a good idea, they could easily kill us.”

Dream stops, turning around to face Tommy. There’s a tight-lipped smile on his face, and his eyes crinkle with amusement. “Tommy, why on earth would they kill us? They like us, remember?”

“You. They like you,” Tommy corrects. “They made it rather clear they detest me.”

Dream snorts. “Everyone always says they hate someone, but deep down inside, we all cherish the moments when we were all friends.”

“If you’re talking about you and me, I was never your friend. I was always your toy.” Tommy scowls. “You say you’re okay with me hating you, but you never actually address why that is.”

Dream seems to study him for a moment. The grin fades, and his eyes droop. Tommy can’t tell what that expression means, but Dream’s turning away again, head bowing forward. He starts walking again, with Tommy hurrying to keep up.

“I made mistakes, Tommy. I made a lot of mistakes that I regret. You were one of them.”

“I’m not anyone’s toy, you know.” Tommy lowers the crossbow, tapping his fingers against the wood. “Not yours, not even Wilbur’s. I’m my own man, and I deserved way better than anyone gave me.”

“You did. I can say all I want that it was yours and Ranboo’s stunt that got us in this position, but really, I just wanted to get a moment alone with you. Wilbur’s had you on a leash.”

His hand snakes out and grips Dream’s jacket, yanking firmly. Fingers grip the man hard enough that his hand starts to ache. Tommy glares at Dream, bottom lip trembling. “Let me repeat myself, Clay. I’m not anyone’s toy. I’m not attached to anyone’s fucking leash. If you had trouble getting me away from Wilbur, it was because I wanted to stay by his side, because he’s more safe than you are.”

“Let go of me.”

“No, I want you to fucking listen to me for once. I have had it with being used and manipulated. I am so sick and tired of being everyone’s pawn in whatever game you’re all playing. Don’t think for a second that any of you are using me. I’m with Wilbur and Ranboo because I want to be. I could have run off at any time I wanted, and none of you could’ve stopped me. I want to end whatever miserable existence I have because I’m tired.”

“Tommy-”

Tommy lets go of the jacket, but he’s grabbing at Dream’s wrist next to hold him in place. “And maybe you’re right, I don’t actually hate you. I hate what you’ve become though. Arrogant, maniacal, playing around with death and life like it also is your personal toy.

”I’ll accept a dragon, I’ll accept this apocalypse you’re all planning. Maybe deep down inside, I want it too. Not because I hate the world, but because I have nothing left to live for, and that’s all your fault.” With those words, he turns and marches toward the tundra cabin he’s starting to loathe.

“I never meant to break you.”

“Yeah, well, you did. Over and over again. I think I’ve suffered enough, don’t you think?”

“That’s why we want this. None of us are whole anymore.” Dream’s voice is barely a whisper against the rising wind. The snow is falling harder, turning Tommy’s ears red and numb with cold. He can see his breath more vividly, and a part of him wonders if this is just a sign of what’s to come.

He’s about to massively betray Technoblade and Philza.

“You get it though, don’t you?” Dream continues. “Wilbur lost himself to paranoia, Ranboo lost himself to forgotten memories, I lost myself to hubris and you...”

“I’m still lost,” Tommy replies. “It’s a neverending cycle of pain and hurt and betrayal. I’m just cementing the opinion that I’m the bad guy in everyone’s minds.” He nods in the direction of the cabin. “If he threatens me-”

“Then I’ll protect you.”

It’s not something he’d expected to hear from Dream. He still hasn’t heard any sort of apology, just more excuses. But he’s starting to see Dream in a new light. Minutes ago he’d been coming to terms with the fact that Dream is only a man, but now he wonders if he’d been too clouded by his own pain to really see Dream.

Or maybe he’s just growing stupid because of the cold.

Snorting, Tommy shakes his head. “I have a crossbow, I don’t need your help. Thanks for the offer, but your ‘protection’ is why we’re here to begin with.”

“It was you and Ranboo drugging us that brought us here. You both could have just asked, you know.” Dream laughs. “I wouldn’t have said no.”

“Well I guess Ranboo doesn’t trust you either then,” Tommy chirps. A grin spreads across his face when Dream stumbles forward, swearing under his breath. He catches himself and continues walking until the cabin is appearing in their view.

“I know you want to hear an ‘I’m sorry’,” Dream says, reaching back to grip Tommy’s shoulder. “But that wouldn’t make up for everything that happened. “So here’s what I’m going to do instead: I’m going to make sure we make it out of this in one piece and unharmed. We just need temporary help. Now go up there and-”

“Wait, you’re not coming with me?” Tommy jerks back. “You’re seriously going to make me talk to them alone?”

“You want to prove yourself to Wilbur, don’t you?”

“We just had this conversation about manipulation,” Tommy growls. “Don’t do this.”

“I’m not manipulating you. I’m asking you a genuine question, since you’re so attached to your brother. Do you want to prove you can do this? Because if you don’t want this, you can go back to the taiga and prepare the tnt with the others, I can do this on my own.”

He stares for a moment. That offer does sound tempting, but so does seeing Techno. It won’t be on the best terms, but...

Standing up for himself is outweighing everything else.

“Alright, so what exactly do we need from them?”

“Them. Their supplies.”

“Great.” Tommy rolls his eyes as he brushes snow off his face. “More kidnapping. As if kidnapping me wasn’t enough.”

“You were more or less willing. I promise Phil and Techno won’t be. Which is why I gave you a weapon. Can you do this or do you want to head back?”

“No, I’ll do it.” He grips the crossbow tightly again and marches forward, leaving Dream behind, next to a tree. He’s trembling with anxiety, but he can’t back down now. Everything over the past several days had been leading up to him betraying people for some dragon.

Gods, that dragon had been cool, though.

Knocking on the door, he fidgets in place while waiting for a response, It comes seconds later in the form of Phil answering the door. Phil looks surprised to see Tommy aiming the crossbow at him.

“What are you doing?” Phil asks, stepping back.

“Hi Phil.” Tommy tries to keep his voice casual. It doesn’t work, as it cracks. “Miss me?”

“Word on the street is you’ve been kidnapped,” Phil says. “By Wilbur. How is he alive? How are you alive? We all thought you were dead.”

“I was,” Tommy says. “Then I was alive again, with Wilbur. Thanks to Dream.”

“Phil? What’s happening, who are you talking t-” Techno’s voice comes from above. There’s the sound of footsteps on a ladder before the pig’s feet come into view, followed by the rest of him. “Tommy?”

“Hey, Techno.” Tommy’s trying really hard now not to falter. Part of him wants to rush into Techno’s arms for a hug, but he remains rooted in place. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“What are you doing?” Techno asks. “Put that down!”

“No. In fact, I want you both to come with me,” he continues. “Actually, I want you to pack all your things up first, then come with me.”

“He said something about Dream,” Philza explains to Techno. The pig nods as if he understands, then shakes his head.

“No, Tommy was dead. He’s supposed to be dead. You’re supposed to be dead, along with Wilbur. How are you here? Where’s Wilbur? Why are you showing up with a crossbow?”

“Things have changed,” Tommy mutters, looking down. He’s losing his resolve; he can’t actually do this. He cares about them too much. “Things are so much different than before, and I can’t tell you what, but you just have to trust-”

“Trust you?” Phil laughs. “We did trust you once, until you turned your back on Techno. Now you show up after being dead, or kidnapped, aiming a crossbow at us, and you expect us to believe anything you have to say? You know better, Tommy. You’re supposed to be better.”

“I do know better!” Tommy snaps. “I know better than anyone what shit feels like, alright? That’s why I’m here, because you two are the most well-stocked people around, you have more shit that could be useful for us to do something big.”

“Tommy.” Techno’s voice is softer than Phil’s. “Tommy, put the crossbow down and come inside. We can talk about this, we can go over everything, and maybe-”

“I’m afraid he can’t do that.” There’s a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. The teen flinches when he realizes Dream had finally stepped in. “See, Techno, Phil? He’s with me.”

Oh.

For a few seconds, not even the winds are heard over the deafening silence. Tommy can see the way Techno is trying to work out the statement and what it actually means. There’s confusion, followed by anger, followed by resignation. The last expression hurts the most, because it means there really is no going back and fixing things.

“You’re calling in that favor, aren’t you?” Techno asks. “You’re using Tommy to get me to comply.”

The warning shot is fired in between the two men in the doorway, hitting a far wall. Everyone jumps before turning to stare at Tommy in shock over his sudden action. “Let’s get one thing straight,” Tommy practically yells. “I’m no one’s, no one’s fucking pawn anymore! Everyone can shit on me all they want, but I’m finally taking my life back! For once I’m where I want to be, and no one can stop me!”

Techno and Phil hold their arms up at the same time, stepping back to give room for the other pair to enter the cabin. “Okay, okay,” Phil says softly. “What do you need from us, how are we helping?”

“Depends, you want to see Wilbur again, don’t you?” Dream is back to looking confident. “Wilbur’s in great condition, by the way. He’s actually the one calling all the shots, so if you have a problem with our current venture, you can file a complaint with him.”

“Do you have them brainwashed?” Leave it to Techno to be blunt.

“No. In fact, Tommy was bitching at me the whole way here,” Dream chirps, ruffling Tommy’s hair. “He’s been doing nothing but tell me I’m an awful person for days. He really meant it when he said he likes it with us.”

“If you’re in trouble, blink twice,” Techno faces Tommy. There’s a grimace on his face, as if he’s trying to smile, but it’s not quite working. “I’m serious, we’ve got ender pearls and swords and so many other things, we can slay him-”

“Don’t touch Dream,” the teen instructs. “He’s on his last life, remember?” The crossbow is waved toward the chests. “But we do want the ender pearls and weapons and potion ingredients.” Tommy smiles sweetly. “And you two, of course. And food.”

There’s no more snark. Phil and Techno are packing silently, moving up and down ladders and throwing everything they can hold into sacks and backpacks. Tommy watches them for a moment before turning back to Dream.

“I feel like shit,” Tommy admits.

“Yeah, me too.” Dream presses his hand to Tommy’s shoulder again as they head back outside. “I like Techno. But some things have to be done.”

“Does being a villain get any easier? Like, do you get used to it?”

“Honestly? No. It’s always shit. Especially when you have attachments and can’t fully get rid of them. I tried, but I just really wanted to pretend I wasn’t hurting the people I loved.”

“Cause I still love them,” Tommy mumbles. “And I’m hurting them.”

“It’ll get better soon, I promise.”

Phil and Techno eventually come outside. They stare at each other before moving foward, falling into step behind Tommy and Dream. There’s a heavy silence weighing in between all of them as they move back toward the portal.

“Oh, Tommy?” Dream breaks the silence.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, for everything.”

Tommy nods, liffting one foot to rest against the edge of the portal. He turns away from the swirling purple to give Dream a genuine smile. His first one aimed at Dream, in months.

“I know. Thank you.”

[frauleinjustice]

Saiouma Prompt: Christmas Eve

Good afternoon, everyone! Merry Christmas! I wanted to do a short-”short” KJDJKFDKJFD- oneshot with the good boys! And of course: in one of my favorite AUs ever, phantom thief/detective, heheh....

Summary: Shuichi thought he was going to spend Christmas Eve alone, since he didn’t have anyone to spend it with romantically. But when he arrives home, he’ll receive a nice surprise: the phantom thief, Ouma Kokichi, there! And so, they spend Christmas Eve together, enjoying Christmas cake, exchanging presents... and just being happy to be with the one they fell for...

Hehe so basically, just wanted to write some cute fluff! As always, I hope you enjoy and thank you in advanced for reading if you do~! Once more, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I hope you all had a great Christmas Eve/having a fantastic Christmas Day! 🎄 ♥

Tonight was Christmas Eve. Decorations lit up the city and couples happily strolled down the streets. Shuichi himself was currently heading back home while holding a bag containing a Christmas cake inside. It’d normally be very difficult to still find one during this time, but this was actually a personal order made by a baker. The baker was friends with the latest client Shuichi helped, and so as thanks, asked their baker friend to have a cake prepared just for him. He was truly appreciative, and couldn’t wait to enjoy it once he got home. In truth… he was going to spend tonight at home. He didn’t have anyone to spend it romantically with, and his colleagues were spending tonight with their own significant other/spouse. Not that being single usually bothered him, since he was normally a very busy man anyway, but even he couldn’t deny how nice it must feel to spend tonight with someone you love… “Maybe I’ll just bring any leftover slices to my job when we have our Christmas party tomorrow…” He mumbles to himself as makes his way up the stairs to his apartment building. Kicking off any extra snow, he takes out his keys and enters inside with a small huff of relief after finally being out of the cold. 

He hangs his coat up and takes off his shoes after placing the bag of cake on the living room table. He then plops onto the couch and closes his eyes for a moment, muttering: “Ahh, warmth… I can’t wait to have some coffee…” 

And as if his wishes were answered, a mug of coffee is placed on the table. “Heeere you go: eggnog latte!” 

“Mmm, thank you, Ouma-kun…” And then the realization hits him. “-?!” Practically rocketing back up on the couch, he instantly snaps his neck to the direction of a certain voice. “W-Wait, what the: O-Ouma-kun?!” 

“Nishishi! Surpriiiise!” Declares the man with his arms dramatically raised up before he sits down on the opposite couch and sips his own mug of coffee. It was none other than the infamous phantom thief, Ouma Kokichi. He had barged his way into the detective’s apartment while he was out. Not that it was the first time he suddenly showed up out of nowhere, no matter if Shuichi was already there or not; yet it shocks the detective all the same each and everytime, much to the other’s amusement. “Are you always going to be that shocked when I appear, Saihara-chan? You should hurry up and get used to it, or you might die from a heart attack!” He chides as if he were actually concerned, yet he had a sly grin on his face.

“A-And whose fault would that be?! That is not the kind of thing one should get used to, Ouma-kun!” The snicker he gets in response makes him pout even harder, huffing before he takes a sip of his coffee to warm himself up. He wondered if Kokichi had remembered him saying he was a fan of this seasonal drink one time, hence why he made it. It’d actually make him kind of happy, if so: and it tasted good, too… “Anyway… wh-what are you doing here? Are you not spending tonight with anyone special…?”

“Huh?” Looking at him as if he just asked a severely dumb question, Kokichi just scoffs at him. “You think I have time for cheesy crap like that? I’m not a hopeless romantic like you, Saihara-chan. Besides… it’s much more fun to torment you. So if you thought you were going to spend your precious little Christmas Eve in peace…” He holds a finger to his lips with a sly smile and leering look in his eyes. “Think again.” 

“.............” Shuichi just gives him a baffled look before he hangs his head low with a groan. “Lucky me…” Despite his seemingly complaints, he wasn’t actually mad about it. If anything: he was actually happy to see him. It had honestly been a while since he’s done so. He couldn’t deny that he actually missed him… and while it wasn’t new for Kokichi to sometimes not show up in a case of his at all: at this point, he had gotten so used to encountering him that it felt odd whenever he didn’t. And now here he was, having made himself comfortable in Shuichi’s home. Kokichi wasn’t even wearing his usual white suit, instead wearing a purple casual dress shirt and black pants. His hair was also in a small ponytail, too. They often didn’t encounter each other outside of their occupations, so it was a rare sight to see Kokichi in regular clothes. Shuichi couldn’t help but stare for a moment, finding him handsome… and he found his ponytail cute as well, before blushing slightly and darting his eyes away when he caught himself looking so much.

Kokichi had noticed him staring and couldn’t help the giddy smile on his face, his own cheeks turning a light pink. He loves the thought of looking so attractive to him that he can’t help but stare. And Kokichi thought Shuichi looked just as attractive in casual wear as well, the detective wearing a gray sweater over dark blue jeans. He found him attractive regardless, in all honesty. Not just physically: everything about the detective made him grow more and more attracted to him. A man who can keep up with him, but can still surprise him, and even be unpredictable to the thief at times; those were things Kokichi very rarely found in a person, and while it sometimes frustrates him that he can’t figure him out… at the same time, he loves it, too. He never thought it would be a detective that fascinates him in a way no else does: and in turn, Shuichi never grew so fond of a criminal like he did for Kokichi. While he can still annoy, confuse, and irritate him a lot… Kokichi can also surprise him, make him smile, make him laugh, even assist him at times…. and made him even grow to enjoy their exhilarating chases into the night. He was just such a big mystery to the detective… one that fascinates him, wants to figure out more… a man that truly intrigues him like no other.

In all honesty, both had been scared for a moment. What if Shuichi came home with a significant other, if he had one? Or what if Kokichi was spending tonight with his own significant other, if he had one? Nerve-wrecking questions that went through their minds before they encountered each other in Shuichi’s home. Even if neither dared to tell the other yet, they fell for each other… so if either assumption had been true, it would’ve broken one or the other’s heart. But now that they know neither assumption was true, it was a sea of relief washed over them both. It especially made Shuichi so happy that he suddenly mumbles: “...I brought home some Christmas cake. I’ll bring plates for us.” Before walking suspiciously fast to the kitchen. He was trying to hide the smile that dares form on his wriggling mouth. He wasn’t going to spend Christmas Eve alone, after all… and with the person he secretly wanted to spend it with the most. 

“?” Raising an eyebrow, Kokichi wasn’t going to let that slide as he waltzed into the kitchen, snaking his arms around the detective’s waist from behind. “Saihara-chaaan?” He tried leaning his head over to look up at him, which made Shuichi quickly turn his head away so he couldn’t see it. Though unfortunately for him, Kokichi had seen that smile on his face for a flash of a second, “Ohh?” An intrigued hum leaves him as the smile on his face widens into an amused one, drumming his fingers along the area of Shuichi’s stomach. “What are you smiling about, hmm? Is Saihara-chan that happy to see me~?”

“Ack…!” He naturally hit the nail right on the head, Shuichi’s eyes nervously darting about as he stammered out: “Th...That’s…! I-I, well, uh…. Th-that information is…. cl-classified!” 

“Uh-huuuh. Sure it is.” That was precisely the reaction he wanted for his surprise visit. Shuichi was so happy to see him… it made him giddily bounce on his feet and his heart flutter a bit in his chest. Much as he wanted to keep teasing his flustered, whining detective, he is excited to eat some cake with him. And so, he lets go of him as he chimes: “Anyways, cake time! Better hurry or I’ll eat the entire thing, myself!”

“Ueeue.. o-okay.…” A small exhale to compose himself, Shuichi nods and also gathers a knife to cut the cake with. Kokichi decides to grab forks for them before they both head back to the table. Once he sets everything down, Shuichi takes the container out of the bag and lifts the lids up. He cuts them both a slice and places it on their plates. “This looks so tasty… time to enjoy.” When he takes a bite, he hums in delight, giving an approving nod. “And just as tasty as it looks, too! I love it. And to think I got a personal order from a professional baker… ah, because you see, the latest client I helped asked his baker friend to have an order of this personally made for me, as additional thanks for helping him out.”

Kokichi also gives a  delighted hum at how delicious the cake tastes. So sweet and fluffy… he can tell this was very well made. “Mmm?” He hummed curiously when Shuichi told him that. “Is that so? Saihara-chan must’ve really done that great of a job, to get thanked like this. But you always do, don’t you?”

“Ah…!” The genuine compliment without the usual back handedness caught him by surprise. “Oh, th-thank you. That’s very kind of you to say, Ouma-kun…”

“Nishishi…” Kokichi just smiles brightly and nods before he continues eating. He truly meant what he said, too: Shuichi truly was a one of a kind when it came to detectives. Serious, intelligent, intuitive… yet kind, caring, and very passionate about his job. He was never one to resort to shady measures to get what he wants, and it was obvious that he truly cares about his clients, and would never be the type to give up on them. That kind of passion was sadly rare to find in most detectives and officers in general. Even if he knows the detective would be too modest to agree, Kokichi feels he truly is a great example that other detectives should follow. 

For a moment, the two ate their cake in comfortable silence. After taking a small sip of his coffee, does Shuichi speak up as he asks: “I’m curious… how have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while, so that’s why I was even more surprised than usual to suddenly see you…”

“Mmn, I’ve been good.” He answers, taking another bite out of his cake before he continues. “I’m a very busy man, you know. I’m in hot demand right now!” Or rather, he had been busy with an especially difficult heist. Even for a master thief like him, stealing a treasure from a very heavily guarded, giant cruise ship was no easy task at all. “I was almost shot, stabbed, thrown in the lake… you should’ve seen it!” And while nearly getting stabbed or thrown into the lake was a lie…. He was chased down by officers and security guards from the ship as soon as he could escape it. Those security officers did carry guns, and had Kokichi not used his usual tricks to lose the police: he probably could have been shot at… 

“I...I see… and don’t say things like that so excitedly…” He sighs. Though he was glad to hear he’s been good, and that he returned safely from his mission. He couldn’t help but worry about him at times whenever he hasn’t seen him in a while, always hoping that he doesn’t get hurt or worse out there… “And here I was wondering if you’ve finally been arrested. Heh, heh, heh.” 

“Hmph!” He comically puffs his cheeks out, jabbing his fork in Shuichi’s direction as he rants: “Saihara-chan thinks he’s so funny, huh? As if! I lost them so easily when they tried to chase me: Boring. Only you can keep up with me, Saihara-chan. That’s why you aren’t boring.”

“O...Ouma-kun..." The serious look on Kokichi’s face as he says that, and the lack of the usual joking or patronizing tone in his voice… he knew this was something that, when said by Ouma Kokichi: was extremely special. He makes their chases feel fun: he isn’t boring to him. It made a warm smile form on his face as he looked down at his plate. “Maybe odd of me to say, but… thank you. I’m… actually kind of happy to hear that.” 

“Good.” He was glad Shuichi believed him. It isn’t something he would even say as a joke, after all. “But aww…” Now that mischievous smile was right back on his face as he now decides to stand up and sit at the couch Shuichi was on, leaning against him. “Could it be that… Saihara-chan missed meeee~?”

“G-Gah!” He yelps when Kokichi suddenly sits next to him, quickly turning his face away. “I-I…!” He nervously darts his eyes around before hanging his head low. “.......” And instead of dodging the question again, he mumbles a quiet: “Y….Yes… I did...”

“!” He expected he’d get another ‘that’s classified’ as a response, which would’ve made him laugh: but Shuichi just flat out admitting that he did miss him makes him beam even more.“...Hah! That’s what I thought! You’d better had. And I guess… I missed Saihara-chan, too.” But then quickly adds in before he can get embarrassed, too:  “...Missed driving him crazy, that is~!” 

“G-Geez…” He playfully gives him a nudge, chuckling softly when Kokichi nuzzles against his arm with a snicker. Despite the rising heat to his cheeks, he looks down at Kokichi with a soft smile on his face, receiving the same look in return. Kokichi also missing him made Shuichi happy, too. Both truly had grown on each other, to the point that they can’t be away from each other for long. “Anyway, you nerd… let’s finish eating. There is something I… um….” He shyly looks away. “...W-Want to give you.”

“...Oh?” He tilts his head. “You got me a present…?” Inside of Shuichi’s bag was a gift he bought for Kokichi. He had bought it without thinking, despite thinking on his way home that he wouldn’t even see him: but he still wanted to buy him something, even if he knew that gift exchanging was moreso a thing couples did on Christmas Eve. An excited glint in his eyes, Kokichi nods his head and goes back over to where he was originally sitting. “Ooookay! I expect that Saihara-chan bought me something worthy of an esteemed phantom thief such as myself. ...Just like I know he will like what I got for him, too!”

“!” Shuichi’s eyes widened in surprise. “You… bought me something, too? R-Really?” Kokichi did have the same idea. Even if he’d normally find such things cheesy, he wanted to get something for Shuichi: something he will claim he’s sure will love, but in truth, hopes that he will. “I know it’s early to say this, but… th-thank you! I’m sure I will love it. And I hope you’ll love what I got you as well…”

“Mmmhm! It’s a gift from me, so I know you’ll love it!” He snickers, before his smile softens a bit. “...If it’s a gift from Saihara-chan, then I know it’ll be good. And that’s not a lie!”

“H-Heheh…” That made him happy to hear… After a while, the boys finished their slices and drinks. After taking a quick moment to wash the dishes, Shuichi places the lid back on the cake container and puts it away in the fridge. He then goes to grab his bag to retrieve the gift bag inside it, with Kokichi doing the same before they sit close to each other. “Alright, um… d-do you want to go first? Here…” Shuichi hands Kokichi the box inside of the gift bag. It was a white gift box, wrapped with a pretty lavender ribbon. “...For you. I-I know you said you expect it to be good, but I still hope you’ll like it…”

“Saihara-chan worries too much… okay! Time to see how satisfactory this gift shall beeee!” With that, Kokichi carefully undoes the ribbon instead of just tearing it off, since he liked it. He eagerly opens the gift box… before his eyes go wide. “!” Inside was a diamond tassel brooch. The brooch part was in the shape of a crown with gold accents, while the smaller end had a purple rose motif on it. Slowly, Kokichi holds it in his hands to have a good look at it, completely in awe. “Saihara-chan…. this is….”

Kokichi looked so amazed, much to his relief… he clasps his hands together as he explains: “Y...Yeah! It’s a diamond brooch. I figured that… since you love to incorporate fancy accessories in your clothes,  you may like something like this. Since you’re a phantom thief, I thought you would like one made out of diamonds, h-hehe… and you seem to like purple, so I thought you would like the rose motif on the smaller end.”

“Saihara-chan… really put that much thought into it, huh…?” He could’ve just simply bought him any kind of brooch, and yet, he wanted to buy him a specific kind that Kokichi could especially love. That was just like him, he thought to himself: and exactly what he loved about him. 

He nods, giving him a warm smile. “Mmhm…. I wanted it to really be a present that you will really love. If you’d ever like to, maybe you can wear it with your phantom thief outfit. Ah, actually: would you like to put it on? I’d love to see how it looks on you.” Nodding, Kokichi proceeds to place the brooch on his shirt. “Ohh…!” Shuichi utters a small gasp of awe as he takes a close look. “It looks very nice on you, Ouma-kun! I just knew it would.” 

“......” Kokichi could feel his cheeks heat up. Shuichi thought it looked nice on him… even if he was a bit flustered, Kokichi was genuinely very happy. “Shumai… I…” And slowly, a bright, genuine smile begins to widen on his face. “...I love it! A very worthy and befitting present for me, indeed! Nishishi!” He exclaims happily with a laugh, rapidly nodding his head. “Mmmhm! I’m definitely going to be wearing this with my thief outfit from now on: thanks, Saihara-chan! You’re the best.” 

“I’m so glad…!” It was music to Shuichi’s ears to hear how much he loved it, laughing along with him. He was truly relieved that he did, making the spontaneous buy all the more worth it.

“Now, it’s Saihara-chan’s turn to open his gift! Here, here!” He chimes excitedly, practically shoving the present in his hands. The gift box was brown with a gold victorian pattern on it, complete with a black bow. “Ahh, such pretty wrapping paper and bow… alright, let’s see…!” After carefully undoing the wrapping paper and taking off the ribbon, Shuichi opens it. “!!!!” And seeing what was inside, he nearly dropped the lid of the box in shock. “O...Oh! Th-This is-!!” Inside the box was a mystery novel. Not only that, but it was an incredibly rare first edition of the book. “This is a… first edition! And from such an esteemed author such as this… normally you’d have to pay an arm and a leg for this, wouldn’t you?” 

Kokichi’s face lit up when seeing how instantly excited and surprised Shuichi was. “Riiight~? But that’s not all: open it to the very first page.”  

“Ah?” A curious head tilt, Shuichi does as told and opens it to the first page. “!!!” He gasps when seeing that the author’s signature was on it. “I-It even has the author’s signature on it, too?! Ah..!!” This was not only one of Shuichi’s most favorite authors, but they were considered to be one of the best mystery novel writers out there. So to have not only a first edition of their, but also their signature: saying Shuichi loved would be a great understatement. This was something he was going to absolutely treasure. “This is like a dream come true… I adore this author’s works. And now I have a first edition of their book… and their signature, too! I can’t believe it!” 

“Nishishi! Dork!” He teases, but seeing Shuichi’s growing excitement as he observes his present was so adoring to see, he found him so cute. Even if he was sure Shuichi would love it… it still relieved him to see he truly does. “I knew Saihara-chan would love it! Better not tell anyone about it, cause I stole it: but that’s a lie. I was a good boy and got it legitimately with help from some goood buddies of mine with connections! I personally had the author give me this signature. This wasn’t easy to nab, you know: so you’d better appreciate it!” 

Just as he was about to panic at his lie, he playfully rolls his eyes before nodding his head. “Of...of course! I’m very appreciative, Ouma-kun, th-thank you so much! This is the best kind of present I could ever get..!” He gives a thankful bow of his head. “I promise to take great care of it.”

“Good, good!” He trusts that he will, so Kokichi didn’t have to worry. He was also going to take great care of the brooch Shuichi got for him, too. He couldn’t wait for the next chance to wear it with his thief outfit. Once they take a  moment to safely put their gifts away, Kokichi runs back over to Shuichi and glomps him back down on the couch. “Saihara-chaaan!” 

“W-Woah!” Shuichi let out a surprise yelp when he was glomped down to the couch: but quickly after, starts laughing and wraps his around him in turn. “H-Hahah, Ouma-kun!” 

“Hehehe!” They roll around a bit on the couch,  laughing and smiling together so happily. Tonight was going so wonderfully… both were just having the time of their lives. Once they calmed down a bit, Kokichi rests his head against Shuichi’s chest. The sound of his heart beating calmly was soothing to his ears... “Tonight was fun… Saihara-chan always knows how to keep me entertained.” 

“Eheheh…” His hand lies gently on Kokichi’s back. Slowly, he dares to give it soft rubs. “I’m very happy to hear that, Ouma-kun. Tonight was really fun with you as well. And here I thought… I was just going to be spending it alone. I’m happy I didn’t: and I’m especially that… I could spend tonight with you, Ouma-kun.”

“Sh...Shumai…” He buries his face more into his chest, uttering a very quiet whine into it. He’s glad Shuichi wouldn’t be able to see the rising heat to his cheeks. “S...So sappy, sh-sheesh….You’d better be careful saying things like that. I may just get the wrong idea…” He whispers in a sultry tone, slowly circling his finger around the center of Shuichi’s chest.

“O-Oh...I...uh….” He stumbles on his words. Kokichi could hear his heartbeat suddenly become faster, which made him snicker. “Aww, don’t die on me, Mr. Detective~! Or else your heart will pop right out of your chest!” 

“Uueuueue! Y-You are the worst, sometimes!” He whines, giving his back a harmless smack before he buries his face in his hands.

“Nisishi! Sowwy~!” He laughs, definitely not being sorry as he hops back up to his feet. “Anywaaay! I’d best get going. I tormented Saihara-chan a satisfactory amount tonight!” 

“Ah?” Moving his hands away from his face, he sits up properly before looking up at him. “You’re leaving already…?”

“Yep! I’m a very busy man, you know. I’ve got lots of mayhem to commence tomorrow, so I need my beauty sleep!” In other words, he was going to have his own Christmas party with his crew. It’s why he was really hoping he could have fun with Shuichi tonight, happy that he did. Now, he’d be able to really have some fun tomorrow without any regrets. 

“D-Don’t cause too much trouble, now…” He smiles sheepishly, before he gives a small nod. A part of him wishes he could stay just a bit longer, but he understands he’ll be busy having fun tomorrow. That, and he’ll need to rest up soon for the Christmas party he’ll be going to with his colleagues, himself. “I hope you’ll have a fun Christmas day tomorrow, then. And, ah… thank you for tonight. I had a lot of fun… and thank you once more for the gift, too! I can’t wait to read it later.”

“Noo promises!” He snickers, walking over to where his stuff is. His gift was already put away in his bag, closing it back up. “Thanks, Saihara-chan! I totes will: and you’d better make sure to do the same!” He takes a moment to put on his coat, scarf, and shoes before looking back at him with a smile. “Mmn! Me too. I’m glad you love your gift. Just don’t go “accidentally” pulling an all nighter because you couldn’t put the book down again, nerd!” He teasingly ‘scolds’ with a point of his finger, laughing before his smile softens. “...And your present was nice, too. I’ll make sure it looks eeeextra good on me when you chase me into the night! And I still… have the most important treasure of all to continue pursuing.” 

He just playfully swats a hand in the air when he calls him out like that, chuckling softly with a warm smile. “Thank you, Ouma-kun… I’m happy you also had fun, and that you loved your present. Hehe, well I guess I’d better be prepared for the next time I’ll have to chase you down, then.” Though the last part makes him tilt his head in curiosity. “The... most important treasure?”

“Nishishi…” A glint in his eyes, Kokichi slowly makes his way to him. “As clueless as always… you should know more than anyone what I’m talking about.”

“...Huh?” Shuichi didn't understand what he meant at all… but when Kokichi suddenly stood in front of where he was sitting, before he started to straddle his lap- “-!” A choked gasp leaves him as Kokichi slowly wraps his arms around his neck, pressing his chest up against his. “Wh….Wh-Wha… What are y...”

He chuckles under his breath at the detective’s flustered confusion, ignoring his own rapidly beating heart. “...You still don’t get it? Geez…. I have to do everything myself, don’t I?”

“D...Do what? What are you talking abou…” But before Shuichi could finish getting that out… Kokichi leaned his face in closer, and closer… until ultimately silencing the detective with a kiss. “Mmn-!” His eyes widen and he freezes in place. Kokichi was kissing him. His lips pressed softly against his own… The further he registered that, the more he felt as if his heart was going to burst out of his chest, and his mind going a mile a minute. But despite being so confused… he didn’t dislike this at all. Kokichi’s lips felt so nice, so soft… and before he knew it, he found himself wanting to indulge, just a bit more… and presses his lips firmer against Kokichi’s, deepening it just a bit. 

“....!” Kokichi felt him deepen the kiss just slightly, making a soft gasp vibrate through him. Even if he was the one that dared to initiate the kiss, he felt like he was going to explode if it became more intense. So quickly, even if reluctantly… he breaks away. “Nishi...shishi….” Despite how heated his cheeks were, he has a leering smile on his face, chuckling breathlessly as he gives him an intense look. “The most important treasure I have yet to steal…. that I so dearly want. Is…” He pauses, slowly trailing the finger he pressed against his chest.. Right down to the area over his heart. With a light tap, he leans in much closer again to whisper: “Your. Heart.” 

“............” Shuichi couldn’t even form words. He just stares at him with wide eyes, being so red that steam could shoot out of his head. He was already dying so badly  from this: but this officially killed him. “I...wah...uuwaaahh….”

“Oopsie! I think I just murdered Saihara-chan!” Despite his teasing comment, Kokichi was dying just as badly, wanting to quickly hide that as he climbed off of him and walked over to hoist up his bag and head towards the door. “Welp, I’m out of here! See you later, Saihara-chan! Tonight was not boring at all, thanks to my beloved detective. Merry Christmas~!” And with a wave and a snicker, he exits out of the house.

“B...Bye… I’m glad you had fun. M-Merry Christmas to you, too…” Is what he manages to get out before Kokichi leaves. “.....” He holds a hand to his heart while the other hovers above his lips. He still couldn’t believe Kokichi kissed him… and that he leaned into it. “St...Stupid Ouma-kun...” He mumbles to himself. “...You’ve already stolen it.” 

[waywardbeanie]

A Man of Letters - Chapter Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Summary: It started as a simple hunt for Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean didn’t realize that this single case would change his life forever. Now they are on the biggest mission of their lives, and without the use of cellphones, the only way he can communicate with the love of his life is through old fashioned letter writing. He has done everything in his power to keep her safe, but will it be enough? Word Count: 3538

Series Warnings: Language, slow burn, angst, smut, alcohol consumption, fluff, SPN typical violence (individual chapters will contain relevant warnings) a little meta Chapter Warning: Violence, assault, humor (Is that really a warning?) and a little bit of sweet.

A/N: This series has been rattling around in my head for a while. It would never have made it to the light of day if it was not for my beautiful group of friends with whom none of this would be possible! You know who you are and I love you all!

Thank you to my beta @winchest09​​ without her none of this would be possible. If you’d like to be tagged, my list is open. Just send me an ask HERE: **Make sure you check out the playlist, it is updated every chapter and an essential part of the story**

Spotify Playlist : A Man of Letters

This series is ongoing!

No Gif’s are mine

“Weird,” Y/N huffed looking out the front window of her Main Street photography studio, “Photos That Rock”. That same black muscle car has passed by her shop window at least five times today. She feels like she should recognize it, but it is just out of reach. Pulling her hair back into a ponytail she began to straighten up around the studio. Last night was a late night, then tossing and turning all night thinking about Mr. Tall, Dark and Plaid. It was an early morning today with a full schedule of studio time and then she was set to go back to The Zoo for Blues night. “Thank God it’s Friday!” she thought.

Tomorrow she opens at 11:00 and only for a few hours. During the summer, the hours are reduced with people being on vacation or just busy. The last thing they want to do on a Saturday is to come in and have their picture taken. She had editing to do, but she could do that on her laptop at home barefooted, wearing shorts and a T shirt.

Y/N locked the door as she flipped the closed sign around. Walking to the back of the studio she grabbed her garment bag off the hook and proceeded to change clothes. She didn’t have time to go back to her house. Besides, once she went home, she wasn’t leaving.  Finding that charming little 2-bedroom bungalow was a blessing. 

Thinking back, she remembered driving around quaint little neighborhoods when Y/N saw the “For Sale” sign being put out. She pulled her black Jeep over to the side of the road and jumped out, clad in jean capris, her favorite white sneakers with a black  ZZ Top “Tres Hombres” mugshot picture on the front, hair in a ponytail and large sunglasses adorning her face.

 “Excuse me,” she said politely, as she approached the elderly woman trying to pound a sign into the hard dirt of the front yard. “May I ask you about the house?”

The old woman peered at her over her glasses. “Ya by yourself?” she almost shouted.

 “Yes ma’am.” Y/N smiled.

“Ya like strong coffee?” she questioned again, “it’s the only kind of coffee I make,” she mumbled. Y/N nodded her head agreeably.

“Well, come on then, come in and look at the house. You can have a cup of coffee with me and I’ll tell ya about it.” Y/N followed behind the slowly shuffling woman with slide slippers and a faded blue house dress.

Within 2 hours, Y/N learned that Hazel had lived in this house her entire married life. Her husband Everett built it when he returned from the Pacific after WWII. The house was a little run down she explained because she had a hard time taking care of things after Everett died 18 months ago. Hazel was ready to move into the senior apartments where all her “widow friends” live. By Y/N's second cup of coffee, she and Hazel agreed on a price and that Y/N could have the house in a month. They agreed to meet at the lawyers in town the following Monday. She had a bounce in her step as she returned to her Jeep after hugging Hazel goodbye. Her step stuttered as a somber smile pulled at her mouth. “This was the first good thing she could use her parent’s life insurance for.”  

Y/N shook her head to clear her mind of the past. Glancing at the clock she noticed that she needed to be at the bar in 30 minutes and it was 15 minutes away. She quickly stripped off her T-shirt and jeans and shimmied into her black leggings and pulled on her knee high, 5-inch heeled boots. Pulling her grey sleeveless flowing top over her head, tugging it down, it skimmed right at her mid-thigh. Focusing on her reflection, she quickly touched up her makeup and added lipstick. Yanking out the hairband, she returned it to her wrist, finger combing her hair.

“Well, that’s as good as it’s going to get today,” she said to herself. Turning around, she grabbed her backpack and keys and ran out the back door to her Jeep, praying she didn’t hit traffic.

The Jeep careened into the parking lot of The Zoo, throwing gravel as “My Kinda Party” by Jason Aldean blaring from the speakers. She made it with 5 minutes to spare. The bar was busy already, so she had to park on the far end of the lot. She grabbed her backpack off the seat and sprinted to the front door just as it swung open.

Stepping inside it was apparent it was going to be a different kind of night. The place was packed just about shoulder to shoulder. People weren’t here to dance, they were here to have a few beers and listen to great Blues music. Y/N snaked along the edge of the crowd to the bar, carefully removed her camera from the bag and handed the backpack to Travis. Surveying the crowd she knew she would get the best pictures by positioning herself on the edge of the stage.

Painstakingly she made her way to the front as the band rambled out. . She motioned to one of the members to confirm she would not be a distraction and he gestured for her to join them while grinning at her. “Make sure you get my good side.”

As they began to jam, the crowd surged forward and Y/N was glad she wasn’t on the floor tonight. She focused on the band and the front of the crowd for their first set, capturing ecstatic faces as the music rose and fell. After a hasty break the band began their second set with “Got My Mojo Working” by Muddy Waters. Y/N steadied herself on the side of the stage and began to scan the bar through her lens, capturing bits and pieces of the enthusiastic and eclectic crowd. The camera halted at 2 men that didn’t belong. They were leaning against the back wall with their arms crossed in front of their chest. They were tall and seem to tower above the crowd. Even this far away they seem pasty and unkempt.  Y/N chucked to herself because one has a John Deere hat on and the other a Caterpillar hat, direct competitors. As she studied them, both snapped their heads up simultaneously. The look on their faces was so murderous that her stomach tightened, and she began to quake. Trying to settle herself her camera moved on instantly. As she wrapped up her shoot at the end of the night, she could still not shake the pit in her stomach.

She talked to the band for a few minutes as they were packing up their instruments and the crowd began to clear out. Jumping down off the stage, she went to the bar to gather her things.

“Thanks so much for tonight Y/N,” Travis pronounced handing her the backpack. “Do you need me to walk you out?”

“No, I’m good.” Y/N shook her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow night for the second blues show.”

Smiling, Travis toasted her with the glass he was polishing.

She hefted her backpack over her shoulder and with her head down, she headed outside.  En route to her parking spot, she observed a group of men congregating close to her Jeep. Slowing her pace she began eyeing them closely, spotting immediately the 2 men in ball caps that creeped her out earlier.  Giving them a wide berth she dug her keys out of her bag, kicking herself the whole time that she didn’t already have them in hand.

As she drew closer, the group began to watch her, making lewd remarks and vulgar gestures. She ran the rest of the way to her Jeep, jumped in, cranking the engine almost simultaneously. Y/N jammed it into reverse, throwing gravel, then ramming it into drive in one fluid motion, putting as much space between her and the group as possible. Her heart was thundering in her chest while her entire body began to quake. Her breaths came in short bursts as she propelled down the road, putting a few miles between her and the bar.  Y/N began to talk herself down, trying to remember her yoga breathing as she berated herself for thinking of yoga at a time like this.

Steering closer to her house she began to compose herself. As she pulled into her driveway, she put her Jeep in park resting her head on the steering wheel, breathing slowly, in and out. Yanking her keys out the ignition she threw them into her bag. Taking one last calming breath she hoisted her bag on her shoulder and got out, slamming the door behind her.

She had taken three steps when a vice like grip wrapped around her bicep swinging her around and slamming her against the side of the Jeep, hurling the bag out of her reach and knocking the wind out of her. Y/N was momentarily paralyzed, the disbelief so profound. A large hand gripped the back of her neck, pulled her away from the Jeep and crushed the side of her face into the driver’s side window.  He clenched her neck tighter as he pushed her face into the window. Tears are running down her face and she strains to hold in cries of pain and fear. She feels the weight of his chest press into her back, feeling his sticky hot breath on the side of her face.

“Did you think you could run?” he seethed. “Did you think we would not fucking find you?”

“W-W-What are you talking about?” Y/N choked out.

Spinning her around by her arm and tossing her back against the door, Y/N hit it like a ragdoll, sliding down the side of the vehicle as her fear incapacitated her mind and body. Looking up, she recognized her assailant from the bar with the John Deere hat. He gripped her by the throat, dragging her back up the Jeep. Y/N feet dangled off the ground, her right eye already swollen shut blood dripping from the side of her head and lip.

“Bitch, we’ve been looking for you for a long time,” he sneered. Y/N tried to shake her head back and forth.

“NO!” she struggled, “I don’t know you!”

He laughed as she tried to focus her one good eye. An index of faces flipping through her mind like a rolodex. He bent down, his fingers digging into her throat, leveling eye to eye with her.

“Oh, but we know you. You were supposed to be in the cabin with James and Diane. We should have been able to take care of all of you at once.” His mouth twisted, “Instead, we had to chase you ass across half the damn country.”

Uncontrollable tears were rolling down her face, blood pounding in her ears. The stranger straightened, his hand slightly loosening around her neck, feet still inches off the ground. “We usually like to play with our food,  but those fuckin’ Winchesters are in town. I’ve messed around enough.”

Y/N could not make sense of anything this lunatic was saying. He knew about her parents’ cabin?  He knew she was supposed to be there? Play with their food? Maybe she was blacking out from lack of oxygen. Winchesters?

She could feel herself weakening. She could hear screeching tires and yelling but it was so far away. She was opening her mouth to scream but only a raspy moan escaped. A look of panic crossed the strangers face. He looked at her, his features began to change. Sharp pointed teeth emerging from his gums. Y/N began to blink rapidly, attempting to process what she was seeing. She began to kick her legs in terror. Her brain was telling her what she was seeing was a hallucination, but her body was peaking at the fight or flight mode. The stranger's mouth was agape as a hiss left his throat. She stared at his mouth with what looked like hundreds of teeth made of needles

She opened her bloody lips to attempt to scream for the last time while looking into his eyes. His head completely disappeared, releasing his hold on her neck in which she crumpled into a heap on her driveway, gulping for air. She heard metal clattering on the cement and from her one working eye, saw a large hand grab the stranger’s body and toss it into the grass. In a flash, two strong hands grasped her shoulders and her flight kicked in. Thrashing around and trying to get away but he was holding on tight saying her name over and over, attempting to get through to her oxygen deprived brain. Shaking her shoulders as gently as he could, drawing his face closer to hers

“Y/N, Y/N look at me, just listen to my voice and look at me, look at my face.”

She peered up at him, the adrenalin beginning to dissipate as the tremors convulsed her body . She was trying to focus on what she saw but it was irrational. She felt like she was trying to put a puzzle together but none of the pieces fit. She squinted at his face and moved her lips to speak but nothing came out.  She stuck her tongue out trying to moisten her lips wincing as she swallowed. Trying again she croaked, “Hot Flannel Guy?”

Chuckling Dean gathered her to his chest, “That’s right, sweetheart, it’s me, Hot Flannel Guy.” He picked her up, as if she weighed nothing the uninjured side of her face rested against his chest and she could feel the rumble of laughter against her cheek. She closed her uninjured eye and tried to breathe deep. He smelled clean and woodsy with a hint of sweat. “A sexy smell for a hot man,” she thought. She remembered she had caught a hint of that same smell yesterday when they danced.

“Where are we going?” she whispered her head foggy, feeling so tired.  Dean started for her front door, Sammy not far behind. “We just need to get you in the house sweetheart”

“We only got three of them, the other two made it to the pickup and took off,” Sammy informed his brother, looking over his shoulder. 

“Damn it!” snapped Dean “We can’t fucking leave her here now.” 

Sam was juggling the machete, a bag and a first aid kit. “Let’s just get her in the house and then we can make a plan. It’s not like they are coming back tonight.”

Dean looked at Sam then at the front door. “Not to be a dick Sammy, but that door isn’t going to open itself.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. He looked at Y/N in Dean’s arms and immediately felt bad. “Right.” He dropped the armload of stuff behind him on the large front porch and opened the screen door. There was a keypad and a doorknob and sighed. “What’s the code?”

Dean carefully jostled Y/N in his arms. “Hey, Y/N?” he asked her softly, “we need to get in the house, what’s the code?” 

She had almost forgotten where she was, she hurt all over and could not stop trembling, but she was taking a small comfort in the feel of Dean’s arms around her. 

“Let me down,” she croaked, starting to struggle, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just let me down.”

Dean’s arms tightened around her. “Sweetheart, just tell Sam the code, we’ll get you in the house, THEN, I‘ll put you down.” She slumped back against him huffing 

“8675309,” she rasped in the best sing song voice she could. Dean threw his head back and laughed as Sam smirked. “Jenny’s number? Your code is Jenny’s number?”

“I couldn’t help it, it’s the only number I could always remember.”

Still chuckling Dean leaned against the house as Sam entered the code. He pushed off, his elbow hitting the doorbell just as the door swung open. Robert Plant’s voice wailed from inside the house.

“Hey, Hey Mama said the way you move, gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove”

Dean’s eyes snapped to Y/N’s face. “Woah, Zeppelin? Seriously?”

One side of her mouth tilted up. “Nobody wants a boring doorbell.”

Sam shook his head as he gathered the things off the porch, holding the screen door with his foot so Dean could carry Y/N in the house. He was beginning to feel like he was stuck in some kind of kismet thing between those two.

As Dean entered her home, he looked around trying to figure out where to lay Y/N down.

“No way does a Dude live here.”

All the walls were white with dark grey trim. The furniture was white in the living room with grey throw pillows and a turquoise throw on the side of the couch. The floors looked like they were finished in a weathered grey tone and it opened up into the airy white and grey kitchen. Different sized vases filled with fresh daisies and framed black and white photographs were placed throughout the area. With all the white, one would think that it would feel sterile but something about it gave off a cozy, comfortable feeling, like a breath of fresh air.

Sam strode into the kitchen and placed his armful of gear on the kitchen Island. He turned to Dean pointing to the couch.

“Nope.” Dean shook his head and looked at Y/N, “no way Sammy, it’s too clean in here.”

Y/N began to wriggle in his arms. “Lemme down,” she whispered. He had held her in his arms for so long she began to feel embarrassed but Dean tightened his hold around her. “Shhhh,” he said looking around again.

“Dude!” she yelled, shocking all three of them. “PUT. ME. DOWN.”  Dean set her on her feet and her legs started to crumple from underneath her. He caught her again and hoisted her back up in his arms.

“Now what?” he ground out.

Sam pulled out one of the grey upholstered bar chairs from the kitchen island, “Put her here.”

 He opened the freezer and grabbed a bag of peas and pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Setting them on the island he walked over to the sink, tore some paper towels from the roll and saturated them with water.

Dean deposited her, none too delicately in the chair. Sam made his way back to her, walking around the island to stand next to Dean to face her. Her right eye was swollen shut and the right side of her top and bottom lip were busted covered in drying blood. As she looked up at her savior, they could see the purple handprint developing around her neck.  Looking directly into Dean’s steely green eyes, she visibly flinched at the barely contained anger. Inhaling a shuddering breath, she spoke quietly.

“Who are you?”

“Oh yeah, that,” Dean smiled. “I’m Dean and this,” he motioned towards the other man, “is my brother Sam.”

He raised his hand, “Hi.”

Y/N studied both of them. Her good eye ping ponging between them until she finally landed back on Dean expectantly raising her eyebrow with a grimace of pain.

“Winchester.” Both spoke at the same time.

She huffed out a breath. “Of course it is, that creepy dude said he couldn’t play with his food because of the fuckin’ Winchesters. But I think I must have imagined stuff from lack of oxygen or something because after that, it’s all a blur and isn’t rational.”

“Well,” Sam hedged, reaching for the wet paper towels, “why don’t we try to get your face cleaned up and you can maybe take a shower. After that we can explain it all to you.” He reached up to start to blot her battered face.

“Dude, I got this!” Dean hip checked him, knocking him off balance. Sam scowled at him. “Sammy, why don’t...you know…” he motioned with his head toward the front of the house, “handle that other thing we need to do.” Sam looked at him incredulously, sarcasm flowing. “Great, yeah I’ll take care of that right now.” Spinning around he headed out the door.  Dean knew he was going to hear about that later but he really didn’t give a damn. 

Turning his attention back to Y/N he grabbed the damp paper towels off the island counter and started to dab her face. Wincing she pulled back. “Dean,” she murmured 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he began reaching around lightly, holding the back of her head so she would stop drawing back. “I need you to hold still for me for just a few minutes so I can get you cleaned up.”

She reached up, grasping his hand, meeting his eyes. Her bottom lip began to tremble, tears shimmering. “Thank you,” she breathed, “thank you for saving my life.” 

He tenderly touched his forehead to hers. “I’m just glad we made it here on time.”

“Me too,” she choked out.

Chapter 4

Tags: @winchest09 @katehuntington @whatareyousearchingfordean @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @superfanficnatural @deanwanddamons @janicho88 @talesmaniac89 @anathewierdo @compresshischest09 @supernatural-bellawinchester @jensengirl83 @this-is-what-im-reduced-to @ellewritesfix05 @moron225 @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @unicornqu33n17​ @swinchester27​@4fareader @deans-baby-momma​ @squirrelnotsam​ @clumsy-nerd104​ @sarahbaker2010​ @supernatural-love14​ @akshi8278​ @lyarr24​ 

[duraxxor]

Shadowlands: Chapter 2 - Subtraction

How did I end up here? Has my life truly been as fragmented as I were? Nothing makes any sense anymore. Many voices have spoken. Some familiar while other's, not so much. Yet, all the only physical presence that greets me is the pain in my chest. It's almost as if they are dissecting me for a glorious harvest of organs. Doubtful that they are, it feels as though it is only to remind me of my place in these wailing halls. The only entertainment to pass the time is the maddening arguments amongst my kin along with the various jailbreaks all across the endless floors of this place. I've learned a great deal about this energy flow though. Whispers of various energies of death. Anima. Phantasma. Stygia. I know not what they fully entail, but... it matters not. I am a great many things. Weak. Emaciated. Beaten.

But I'm not broken...

A wail just down the dismal hall of deathly metal echoed directly into the chamber that the unconscious trio were bound by chains. Both beasts lay upon the cold, stained floor while their heart dangled by twin links that held his arms up. His frame no more than a fraction of it's once, muscular glory. Ink-smeared pale skin that were barely covered by tattered, black cloth. Flowing white hair hung almost to the ground as he bowed in an attempt to rest his soul, preparing for the next torture that would be laid before him. The vile racket increased in volume as the sound of plated footsteps echoed across the floor. The very noise made the trio stir in their own ways. Randdu's ears wiggled while Sphula's eyelids suddenly opened and dilated with it's endless, distant stare. Not long after, the armor of Mawsworn rolled across the solid steel as they would be blessed the sound of true death. Though music to the ears of the familiars, the correct melody for Daev himself was that of the footsteps that followed with the clanking of chain, gravity now taking his course as he found himself following completely onto the floor. " Is this... no.... this isn't real... " Daev muttered in delirious disbelief, writhing like a worm before the beat of the drum followed with the shattering of the chains that barred the beasts.

" Who... issssss... thissssss?.... " Sphula hissed tiredly as he tilted his head to behold a hooded knight much like that of the Ebon Blade. The serpent watched as the knight knelt before Daev and began reaching for him. To which, the serpentine familiar protested. " Do not... harm a hair.... on hissssss head.... " Randdu followed with a weak flap of his wings before he hoarsely screeched. Both animals were set off by the visitation of a stranger who appeared to be potentially a foe.

" Stay your... claws and teeth. I am only here to do what is necessary. " The voice coming from the hood confirmed the condition of undeath that laid within the epicenter of this being. Faint, white hairs tickled the edges of the hood which only revealed a familiar nose and chin structure. As he reached to place a gloved hand upon the epicenter of Daev's chest, he muttered something unexpected. "... I'm here, to save my son before it is too late. " The hand now emanated with strings of white tethers that flowed freely into the much younger Daevara, which in return made this new ally's jaw clench. " Take my anima... and rise again, Alphus! "

Daev felt the energies of the being that claimed to be his father pouring into his soul. A subtle gasp following which brought his glassy eyes to glow that white purity. Images flashed before his eyes of the man's own memories of youthful struggles, benevolent love, and even the talks of the birth of a son named Alphus Durand Daevara. It all happened so fast but brought a vision of clarity that only he could understand. It was an overwhelming sensation that caused the youth to involuntarily clutch to his father before realizing that he could see the hooded figure. " ... Father? "

The man smiled, despite being a harbinger of undeath now, he still possessed a joyous sense in any situation. Without hesitation, the man removed his hood, revealing the cyan glow of his eyes along with a messy ponytail of familiar white hair that represented the trademark that was long passed down through the Daevara family. " I just want you to know... I'm proud of you for finally defeated the curse our family couldn't overcome... but right now... you must get out of here... " With that being said, Sephirrion Daevara placed a spectral key into the palm of his hand and nodded to him, picking him up off the ground so that he could stand. " Do you have the strength now? "

Daev fumbled at first as the beasts around him slowly began to rise. Randdu standing on all fours while the serpent began to levitate, anima energy now being distributed to balance the flow within the centerpiece himself. " Is this... another trick... another... torture... has the Jailer finally decided to break me?... " Daev looked at his hands in disbelief, smudged with residues of a variety before he clenched them into fists. It was the offering of the sword that lead him ask another question. " Father... I have to ask... if it is really you... why did you... "

A thunderous notion in the distance sounded that made animal and person tense up. " There will be time to ask later, Alphus... get going. You have friends and family waiting for you... I... will distract them while you escape. That key will get you to the exit. " Daev finally took the sword from his hand, clenching the short blade and opening his mouth before another rumble settled in, this time drawing much closer. " GO! "

" You heard daddy-o, let's get the hell outta' here! Reeeeeee! " Randdu trotted across the floor, tackling Daev to move as the trio began to take off down the hall. Despite the nature of the situation, the elf found himself slower than the beasts not only because of his structure, but because he was looking back towards the man that claimed to be his father who drew his swords and charged the other direction. " Move yourself, Daev! Do you want to die here? Because I sure as hell don't! Reeeee! "

" But... what about him... he risked his neck to save us? " Daev responded back to the unfiltered bat with worry. The serpent slithering his way beside their key to the way out of here. " Randdu issss right. Asss much assss I hate to admit it. We have obligationsss to fulfill and there will come another opportuni- Look out! " The serpent coiled around Daev, forcing him backwards as Randdu screeched loudly when he dodged a swinging guillotine in passing. The metal of the pendulum force whisking by them with that faint, metallic wail that indicated death. " Allow meeee... " Sphula declared as he tightly wrapped himself around Daev and pulled him through a shadowy pocket, instantly seeping out of the floor beside Randdu before the trio was once again reunited.

" That was a close one, boss! " Randdu chittered, flapping his wings as he felt his strength returning more so now. " You gotta' work out more, Daaaaaaev... you'll never win any races with this chicken legs... " Daev gave the bat a look before Randdu felt himself being pushed back by their kinetic link. " Shut it, bat... you try being chained up for an eternity... oh wait, you were! "

The howl of abyssal creatures was heard coming up directly in front of them as an armored bowman with three, smoky hounds come clattering down the halls in their wraith-like states. The lack of physical body made them haunting to look at. Unless, of course, you were a certain bat that saw the raw energies that coursed within them. " Oh yeah, baby! Buffet here I come! " Randdu suddenly flapped frantically and made a mad swoop towards one of the stalkers while the other two were commanded to charge the elf and his serpent companion. Magics suddenly began to hum from within the Sphula's jaws as he wound himself around Daev to protect him. His tail slipped through the floor and came out to swipe at both hands, knocking them backwards before the serpent shot a bolt of lightning at them. All three of the beasts howled out as they found themselves pushed back. One of them even squealing in agony as Randdu began to siphon the energies from it, causing his mass to grow and the energy within him to turn darker. " Yeah! Yeah! Ow! "

The knockback of a bolt was heard just before Randdu found an arrow lodged into his side, making the bat-like creature shriek into an enrage frenzy before the unlucky mawsworn found himself on the other end of his jaws. Armor pieces began chipping and flying everywhere from the sheer madness that was the beast that tore into it. " ... Nothing... escapes... the Maw! " The declaration had been heard a great many times through this halls and most of the time, they were the unbearable fact. " Reeeeeeee! You're wrong! We will find a way to get out of here! " Randdu screeched his own opinion out before he immediately returned to his companions, allowing his energies to spill out and ease there way into them to split the balance.

" Randdu... I never realized you were such an energy conductor. And Sphula... you're... a magic conjurer? I've never used lightning magic before... " Daev seemed utterely surprised by the abilities of his animalistic fragments that were a part of him, bringing about a faint smile as he found his resolved temporarily renewed. " Let's get out of here and find our allies! " Daev took off as quick as his *chicken legs* would allow with bat and snake in tow. Once they come across a flight of ascending stairs, that's when the real challenge awaited them.

Coming through the doorway, the floor had finally revealed to them an massive, open room with a door on the other side that matched the key perfectly to the point that the spectral energies began to glow in Daev's hand. But, there was just one thing standing between them and their exit out of here. Within it's epicenter was a floating oculus forged from a twisted, metal shell with an energy lens within it's core. " None may escape the Jailer's Third Eye! " The voice bellowed out much like the tone of the Jailer's voice did. Energies now channeled within him as he suddenly fired off a beam of phantasmal energies. This, in turn, made the trio split apart in order to avoid the blast.

" Randdu, don't let that thing get too close to us! Flank him! " Daev shouted out in command as the bat screeched in his attack, tackling the incoming, floating eyeball. Wings were a flutter and the sharp edges of his teeth were gnawing at the metal structure. " My teeff isn't working! " Sphula's tail suddenly came out of the ground below the Third Eye as he attempted a tail swipe to knock this thing backwards. Meanwhile, Daev struck from the other side of him with a sword by trying to stab into it's core. But, the trio found themselves battered, pelted, and blasted by a series of physical and magical attacks with each and every attempt they made to attack.

While they were actually putting up a decent fight the way they were, their unsynchronized assault was met with little success and they all found themselves falling to the ground. Daev, clutched his sword, using it as a cane to support his weakening state. " I... don't know... if we're going to make it through this... " Both animal familiars were shakily trying to get back up but having a hard time as it were. " Nooooo.... we were... so close... " Randdu tried to push through and noticed that the Third Eye was charging another focused blast. " Hey! Daev! Move! Get out of there! "

Daev actually stammered, attempting to pull himself away despite his lack of swiftness but ultimately, there was no hope left in his face as he froze up, watching as the beam of bright death was fired off towards him. His first reflex was to bring his arms up over his face until he felt a gust of wind directly in front of him before the blast made an impact with another object. " REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! " The ear-piercing shriek was released from Randdu who had taken the hit for Daev. " Why... didn't you... move... you.... dumbass... uhhh... " Randdu's physical form faded away and the energies that were left over instantly traveled into Daev's left arm, funneled back to the source.

" Randdu! " Daev shouted as he felt himself beginning to panic. For the first time, the man that was once Duraxxor found himself as helpless as ever. Fists clenching as the Third Eye began to charge another attack. " I don't... want to be weak.. I need... more... Power! " He took off towards Sphula, reaching to grab for the serpent so that he could wrap him around his body. " I'm not letting you take the fall for me, Sphula! We'll get through this! "

The energies of the beam began to grow, nearly complete in preparation for another attack much like before. " ... You fool... if you die... I die too... I.. haven't... given up... she issss... closssse... " Sphula explained the little fact that the Sorceress herself was drawing closer, meaning that soon, there would be other's there to rescue them much like his father. " Yeah... you're right... Malakortana won't let us die... right? She's always there... when you least expect it... " Daev spoke these words as if they were the only thing they could truly do in the moment, hearing the energies hum behind them just as his legs began to give out. " I need.. more power! Malakortana! I need your guidance right now! I don't know what to do! I need your STRENGTH! "

The fully charged beam was fired off in a straight shot for them as it made contact, exploding with anima magics in the form of a plume. Smoke lingered in the air after the dust began to clear and the Third Eye peered towards the the area they had stood. At first glance, it appeared they completely bit the dust from his final attack. However, something most unexpecting occured as this anima sentry felt the heartbeat pulse of anima from within. With that being said, the dust cleared and a tall figure stood there, silently. A crimson scaled tail with spines wriggled left and right, jutting just beyond a black outfit that was comprised of a pair of pants and a closed trenchcoat that was embroidered with a deep red design. A hood, delicately hid the features above the nose line of this being. Skin-tone was a paleness with a hint of sanguine glow splashed into it as a pair of onyx lips curled significantly, protruding now with elongated, venomous fangs. From behind said lips, a voice called out.

" It'ss time, we ssettled the sscore, little occuluss. Now, you shall know the power of the bond between usss and The Lady of Vicioussssnessss... “ [ Tags: @sanguinesorceress​ and @safrona-shadowsun​. Bottom art credit goes to @handhour-galleries​ ]

[glitterbootsharry]

Three- Lullaby Woe

Word Count: 2K

Disclaimer: I do not know much about witchcraft or anything associated with it besides the few tv shows and movies I have seen. If I have gotten anything wrong or mixed up, please feel free to let me know. I want to get as much right as I can as I have done some research, but I know I do not know a lot.

Warning: Talk of divorce, childhood trauma, and a car crash. 

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“Sorry ‘bout that,” Rowan enters the room, her face and body much more relaxed from when we first arrived at her cottage, which in turn relaxes me. “Gran, she, erm…” Rowan sits down next to me on the couch before picking up her tea cup, trying carefully to choose her words, but they never come to her rescue. She shakes her head, dismissing her entire argument altogether. 

“She seems nice,” I say, trying to ease into the motion of conversation. I smile as I sip my tea, the orange aftertaste lingering in my mouth. There were millions of questions running rampant through my mind, enough for me not to be able to process anything that had happened between Alice and I. Was her intuition that great? Did I linger too long when looking at Rowan? 

“She can be a little much,” she smiles, laying back into the faded blue cushion. Her head falls back against the wooden frame, her eyes closing- a moment of peace for her, a thousand memories for me. Her neck, tanned and delicate, is long and vulnerable, though my wanting of tracing her skin hasn’t ceased, I clear my throat, trying to adjust my jeans hoping the evidence of my wandering thoughts isn’t noticeable. “Sorry if she freaked you out or anything.”

“It’s fine, really,” I say, half-believing my own words. The words that formed in my mind, unspoken, had been the center of attention in our conversation. I just want to know what gave it away. “Erm, who is Astarte?” I clearly butchered pronouncing the name when Rowan’s eyes click open instantly as if the owner’s name was some sort of curse word. She sits up and faces me, her leg crossed under the other. Her dark wide eyes blink at me slowly, carefully as if she wants me to believe what is coming out of her mouth.

“It’s my mum,” she said, a hint of sorrow in her voice. Bringing up the woman must have brought in memories that Rowan wished to forget, and I’m the asshole for asking. “Most of these books,” she looks at the black leather book I had been holding only moments ago, “were hers. She was really into herbs and such. And it’s As-Tar-tee, not A-start-e.” 

I knew from the vagueness of her answer that the subject’s waters I’m dancing around was best left alone, but the arrogance and stubbornness in me was dying to know everything I could about Rowan.

“Was?” I ask, half knowing the answer already. I keep digging my early grave with every word I say. Curiosity killed the cat, I reminded myself.

“She died when I was young, along with my dad,” she clears her throat before setting the tea cup on the dark wooden table. She smoothed her ponytail before standing up only to look down at me. “Do you want to see the garden?” 

There wasn’t a spoken answer, only me nervously nodding my head as I hastily set my teacup on the table before following Rowan out the back glass door. I feel like a puppy, following my new owner around, high on her heels so when she turns around to show me a flower she had just planted only a few days ago, she bumps into my chest, her hands both on the two birds that are permanently there. 

“Sorry,” I whisper, feeling the fire where her hands were touching. For a moment, I wished her hands were hot pokers because I would wear my branding marks with pride. She smiles toothily before pulling out a beige rose from behind me.

“Do you know what the colors mean?” She asks, her teeth grazing her bottom lip as she looks up to me. I shake my head, only knowing red means love. Rowan continues to smile as she pulls the flower to her nose to smell. “Beige means fascination. Red, love and respect and courage,” she walks away and I try to keep up, falling under whatever spell she’s casting. Her hand hovers over the flowers as she walks, her skin glowing in the sunlight. “Orange stands for passion,” her voice sultry as she points to the mass of orange roses. “Yellow is for friendship,” she pulls the yellow rose out from the ground and hands me the flower. I look over to the light purple flowers that are planted at the end of the row that sits along the falling fence. 

“What about the lavender ones?” We walk to the flowers I asked about, gently squeezing the stem before plucking it from the dirt. I extend the flower to Rowan who smiles with her lip caught between her teeth as she blinks wildly. “Careful with the thorns.”

“Enchantment and love at first sight with mystery mixed in,” she whispers, taking the rose from me, her hand gingerly grazing over mine. Perfection at its finest. Her lips part, in anticipation of speaking or something else, but I want so badly to kiss Rowan here in the garden of lost time and emotion. I step closer to her, my head slightly bent as my head hovers over hers. I feel her breathing become hitched and her eyes close as our embrace closes in ranks, but she pulls away, smelling the rose I had given her. “The white flowers represent innocence and remembrance. I planted those for my parents which is why there’s only two.”

“What happened to them, if I may ask?” I stand where Rowan left me, completely still until I feel something rubbing between my legs. A small shriek comes out of mouth, embarrassment flooding my face afterwards. I step back and see a small black cat slinking over to Rowan. 

“Fernsby, you can’t scare our new friend,” Rowan picks up the black cat, holding the animal in her arms before I step over to pet the creature that startled me. 

“Sorry mate, thought you were a snake,” I say, the cat purring almost instantly when my hand rubs his head. 

“He’s friendly, don’t mind him. He likes to spook new people,” Rowan sets Fernsby down on the ground so that he could chase the Monarch butterfly that was fluttering about the garden. 

Rowan clears her throat before she begins to speak, her eyes still on the white roses, “My parents died in a car crash when I was young so I don’t really remember much about them. We only had one car so after my parents dropped me off at school one day, my dad was on his way to drop my mum off to work. She was a nurse at the hospital and worked the dayshift. It was raining that day and my dad had a hard time seeing the road when I was in it. He kept swerving and getting into the standing waters. I was in the backseat hoping that it would stop raining just for one minute,” Rowan looked up at me, tears forming in her eyes. She sniffles before continuing. 

“There was this curve on the way to mum’s work that was dangerous even when it’s not raining. It was on the side of a hill. I’m sure my dad was careful, not speeding and all, but there was this big truck, the kind that you use to move, and it, erm, was on the curve with them. It started hydroplaning and it crashed into my parents. They rolled down the mountain and…” Rowan’s voice fades as she tries to steady herself. It was tough hearing the story, letting alone telling it. I grab Rowan by the elbow and pull her into my embrace, my arms squeezing her as she sobs into my chest. My chin rests on her head and we sway in the garden as I let her cry. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” I say as I feel her stir. She wipes away the smears of makeup and tears, her eyes red. She looks up at me and smiles gently. 

“It’s fine, Harry. You wanted to know,” her words cut me down. My curiosity hurt Rowan, made her relive the trauma she was so desperately trying to forget each morning after waking from dreams of her family together. “After the accident, I came to live my gran and it’s been like this ever since.” 

“What was that that she called you?” I ask, my arms still holding Rowan in her rose garden. A few birds twirped in the air as the sun shine down upon us.

“What? Erm, Ya Amar? It’s my pet name for her. It’s Arabic for my moon- something she’s always called me,” Rowan points to the tattoo of the crescent moon and stars behind her ear. 

“Arabic? I didn’t know you were from the Middle East,” I say, smiling down at her. I swallow hard as her dark eyes look over me. She smiles sweetly before stifling a small laugh. 

“We’re from Egypt, Harry,” she says with kindness in her voice. “It’s a language used throughout a lot of countries.”

“Oh,” is all I could say as she pulls away from me. “Was your mum Egyptian or your dad?”

“My mum,” she says as she bends down to pick a weed out of the ground. “Gran came to London years ago to start a new life. My grandfather refused to leave Alexandria, Gran took my mum and came up here. Said that people are more accepting up here, but we know now that was a lie. My mum met my dad at Uni and had me.” Rowan swallowed hard, her eyes diverted to the ground. Clearly there was something else, something she wasn’t telling me, but I’d rather not pry now.

“There’s so much sadness in your family, I can’t imagine. All I have is divorced parents and an absent father,” I say, half-smiling. “He left when I was young and told me that I was the man of the house. At no age should the son be that,” The memory of my dad closing the front door for the last time echoes in my mind. I cried, pleading with him to stay, but it was no use. He had left my mum, Gemma and I to our own devices. 

“Why did he leave?” Rowan asks as she walks around the section of green shrubbery. “Herbs.”

“I dunno. Never asked. Don’t want to know, honestly. Things are better off with the only communication I have with him being the birthday and christmas presents that I get in the post every year,” I feel the soft leaves of the plant closest to me, still holding on to the beige rose in my hand.

“That’s so sad,” Rowan looks up at me, biting the inside of her cheek. “What about your mum?”

“She remarried, but my stepdad passed away a few years from cancer. He was the light of her life. I’m really happy she got the happiness she deserved. They were really in love. Hope I get that one day,” I shuffle my brown boots into the ground all too aware of a pair of eyes on Rowan and me. I looked over to the white lace curtained window to see Alice watching us, her fingers curled around the fabric.

Rowan smiles as she sees her grandmother watching us. “She likes you. Thinks you’re the bee’s knees because you drove me out here. She says you remind her of her husband.” She steps closer to me, the smile on her face growing. “She’s got a bit of dementia and her memory isn’t as good as it used to be, but you remind her of Clifford when they were younger supposedly.”

“What happened to him?” I ask, scared of the answer. 

“He died when I was a teen. Drank too much. Said our family’s history was too much for someone like him to bear.”

“What history?” The words fall out of my mouth before I could think, my heart racing as Rowan steps closer to me, her fingertips holding onto my inner elbow. She stands on her toes as she pulls leaves from my hair. 

“As if you haven’t heard, Harry. You’re standing in an accused witch’s garden, after all,” She smiles, her white teeth showing, and I know that whatever enchantment, spell, or curse Rowan was putting me under I would never forget our time in the garden. A devilish grin is plastered in her face before she dusts off the small bit of grass from her pants. She takes my flower to her nose before smelling it once again and then blow cold air in my face. “Be careful or they’ll say I cast a spell on you and made you mine.”

####

@sunflwr-styles​ @awomanindeniall 

[heysoup]

Fluffy February Day 4 - Halloween

Phew! I’m a little late, but I managed to make it while the day’s still here. This is day four of @fluffyfebruary and the prompt is Halloween.

Chapter 4: I’ll Be Yours

Pairing: Butch DeLoria/Male Lone Wanderer

Summary: During a Halloween party, Susie suggests that the group of teens play spin the bottle. Jamie isn't one for parties, isn't even one for socializing if he's honest with himself, and he definitely isn't excited to play this game. But Butch has been looking at him all night, and something in his heart tells him this might be different.

Ao3 Link

“Thanks for helping, Jamie,” Amata says from where she’s perched at the top of a step ladder hanging colorful streamers along the ceiling.

Jamie smiles up at her from his own task of making Halloween-themed snacks, “of course.”

She climbs down the ladder and brushes her hands off on the pants of her vault suit, looking up at her handiwork with an approving nod. Orange and purple streamers hang in delicate loops from the ceiling. Hanging among them are dainty origami bats – all handmade by Amata and Susie. They even found some old Christmas lights and strung them up along the walls, hoping that when the main lights were turned off it would create some kind of spooky atmosphere, even if they were red and green.

They’re preparing for their first ever Halloween party as ‘adults.’ Now that everyone in their class was eighteen, Amata had finally gotten her dad to cave and allow them to throw a party at the Mack’s apartment, since it was one of the largest. How she managed to pull it off, Jamie has no idea.

He finally finishes icing the last of his ghost-shaped cookies and walks over to join her, letting out an impressed whistle. “Looks great!” he says, and she smiles at him.

Susie and Wally walk out into the living room from the hallway – they’re wearing freshly pressed vault suits that are tailored a bit closer to their bodies than the normal ones, the blue and yellow fabric even more vivid than usual. Susie’s platinum hair is poker-straight and pulled back into a ponytail with a cherry red bow. Her lipstick matches the bow’s color perfectly. Wally’s hair is plain, but neatly combed – they look nice, but if Jamie’s honest, he doesn’t see how it’s supposed to be a costume.

Amata seems to think the same. “So… what are you guys going as again?” she asks, a sheepish smile on her face. Wally rolls his eyes and elbows Susie.

“I told you they wouldn’t get it!”

“Oh shut it, we just have to do the thing!” Susie pulls at her brother’s arm, who groans in response.

“FINE.” They both look at Jamie and Amata with their cheesiest smiles - Susie’s looking much more genuine than Wally’s – and give them a thumb’s up.

“Uh…” Jamie doesn’t see how that’s supposed to clear anything up for them.

“We’re Vault Boy and Vault Girl!” Susie snaps, crossing her arms. Wally huffs and shakes his head before walking over to the couch and plopping down, reaching into the pumpkin-shaped plastic bowl on the coffee table to shove some chips in his mouth.

“I could tell!” Amata says, trying to appease her. “You look great, Susie! I love the lipstick.” She grabs Jamie’s hand and twines their fingers together. “We have to go get our costumes ready now, but we’ll be right back. Party starts in thirty, right?”

Susie nods, changing into hostess mode once again. “It looks really good in here, by the way. You did a great job, Amata” She smiles and then says, as an afterthought, “uh and Jamie, too, I guess.”

---

Back in Amata’s room, she and Jamie busy themselves with changing into their costumes. Amata is dressed to the nines in a slim-fitting black dress with emerald green accents that she had sewn herself with her mother’s old machine. She has a pair of elbow-length black gloves made from leftover pantyhose and a pearl necklace around her neck that Jamie found in the lower levels of the vault. He kept the details of where he found it to himself. Her costume is pretty close to looking exactly like the original Mistress of Mystery, they've just taken a few creative liberties.

She’s sitting at her vanity, applying her makeup and curling her hair when she asks, “so, are you excited?” Jamie puts down the comic he’s reading and sits up on her bed. He’s already changed into his outfit – just a simple flannel, some jeans, aged brown leather boots that his dad had stowed away in his closet for some reason, and the closest thing they could find to a ten-gallon hat, which is currently around his neck and hanging at his back. A plastic pistol and a makeshift paper holster sit beside him.

“Yeah,” he settles with, trying his hardest to sound convincing. It’s not that he isn’t excited, he’s just nervous. He’s already kind of a social outcast, which is bad enough. What’s even worse is that Butch will be there, which was fine and normal, except for the fact that it wasn’t because just a last week they’d technically had their first kiss down in their hideout, which Jamie had freaked out over and literally ran away from, and then proceeded to pretend it never happened. Outside of work they’d been too busy to hang out recently, so this will be the first time he sees him in such a casual setting since. It’s not like he can ask Amata for advice – she doesn’t even know he’s friends with Butch for one and she’s unlikely to approve, and what if she asks about their hideout? It’s too risky, not to mention humiliating!

“Jamie!” Amata is snapping at him, a soft smile on her face. He blinks and laughs, feeling out of breath despite the fact that all his talking was in his head. What a mess.

“Hah, sorry. Just thinking. I’m kinda nervous, but you know how I am with people.” He shrugs, picking at his nails. Amata walks over and ruffles his hair.

“Hey, it’ll be fun!” she says, trying to sound encouraging. She takes his hands in hers and pulls him off the bed. “But if you get overwhelmed just let me know, we can just come back here and listen to something on the radio – I don’t mind.”

Jamie smiles at her and pulls her close, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of her head. Man, he missed her.

---

It’s been about an hour and the party is going pretty well. The lights are all off aside from the string lights, which, as Amata predicted, create a pretty nice ambience. Everyone is chilling out and listening to music and talking amongst themselves. A few people are playing board games and enjoying snacks, some are dancing.

Jamie’s nerves have calmed a bit – Wally had the brilliant idea to bribe Stevie to leave them some beer, which Jamie is sipping on contentedly from his seat on the couch beside Freddie and Amata.

Everyone’s costumes turned out great too, Jamie thinks. Freddie came as a werewolf – he’d ripped the arms off his vault suit and used grease paint to draw brown hairs all over himself. He’d even given himself a little black dog nose and glued paper triangles to a headband that could pass as ears. It’s a little messy, but he put effort in.

Paul decided to be a vampire and he’s dressed almost as well as Amata, in a fancy white shirt, black slacks, and a tie – probably the same clothes he wore to prom. He has a long black and red cape wrapped around his shoulders. The fake teeth he’s wearing keep popping out of his mouth when he laughs, and Jamie grins at the sight of him fumbling to catch them across the room.

Butch is next to him, laughing his ass off, flask in hand. Apparently, he’s supposed to be a Greaser – he’s wearing his Tunnel Snake jacket and his hair is slicked into its usual pompadour. The only difference is he’s swapped out his vault suit for a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, which he says are classic. He meets Jamie’s gaze from across the room and smirks, sticking his tongue out at the other boy. Jamie looks away quickly, his face red.

Christine is across from Amata on the other couch, chatting with Susie. She’s dressed in a long white sleeping gown with matching slippers. On her back, she has small, handmade angel wings. Their puffy feathers occasionally fall off and stick to every surface, leaving a trail all over the apartment wherever she goes.

Susie turns the radio down a bit then stands and claps to grab everyone’s attention. “Alright, ghouls and gals,” she giggles to herself, “I think it’s about time we started the real party!” Jamie quirks a brow at her and can’t help but notice Amata’s peeved expression.

Everyone who wasn’t already near the couches crowds around and Jamie jumps when he feels two hands clap down on his shoulders. Butch is leaning over the back of the couch, grinning down at him.

“Hey, Nosebleed,” he says with a smirk, leaning closer to his ear. “Cute costume. Who are ya, Calamity Jane?” He tips Jamie’s cowboy hat down into his face playfully.

It’s supposed to be a jab. They don’t typically act friendly in public; something still just feels off about that and they aren’t ready for their relationship to change that drastically. This feels different, however, and Jamie can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips. He hadn’t spoken to Butch all night, he wasn’t sure if the other boy would want him too, but somehow this felt like an invitation.

“Nice costume yourself,” he taunts. He can still feel the heat of the other boy’s body against the back of his neck even as Butch pulls away and stands up straight again. “You supposed to look like a knock-off James Dean?”

Susie clears her throat, shooting Jamie an impatient look. “Anyway, as I was saying,” she continues, the giddy smile returning to her face as she holds up an empty beer bottle. “We should play spin the bottle!”

Butch groans from behind him. “Come on, Susie, that’s such a kid’s game.”

Susie sticks her tongue out at him. “If you could let me finish! We’re going to play it with seven minutes in heaven rules, obviously. This isn’t middle school. We’re adults now.” She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “So, whoever it lands on gets to go into the hall closet. That more grown-up for you, Butch?”

Butch shrugs, “I guess.”

“I think it sounds fun!” Christine chimes in.” It’s harmless, anyway. Come on, let’s just play. Who knows if we’ll ever be allowed to have a party again?”

---

After moving some of the furniture and grabbing a few pillows for them to sit on they’re all crowded in a circle on the rug in the living room. Jamie is still next to Amata, then Freddie, Wally, Christine, Butch, Susie, and Paul. There’s eight of them, so the odds would be even, but Wally is related to both Christine and Susie – which he continues to complain is unfair.

“Oh shut it, Wally. If it lands on us, just spin again.” Susie snaps and sets the bottle in the middle of the circle. She leans back on her knees, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, actually, there’s two choices. You can either kiss whoever the bottle lands on in the circle publicly,” Christine interjects with a low ‘ooooooh’ and leans closer to Butch, who grins.

“Or!” Susie continues, “you can choose to go into the closet for seven minutes.”

Jamie’s gut twists uncomfortably. He really didn’t want to play this, anyway, let alone when he might be forced to watch Butch slobber on someone. But he’s here for Amata and for his dad, he guesses, who said it would be good for him to behave like a well-adjusted and social teenager for once.

They’re a few spins in and nothing incredible had happened. Wally spun on Susie twice before landing on Paul and the two went into the closet with their handheld games to pass the time. After, Christine landed on Freddie and chose a kiss – which was more of an awkward peck on the side of the mouth than anything else.

Butch rubs his hands together before leaning forward to spin the bottle, making eye contact with Jamie for a split second and shooting him a wink. Jamie’s heart leaps into his throat and he splutters mid drink, trying to hide his embarrassment behind a small cough.

The bottle spins around the circle once before slowing. For a split second, Jamie thinks it’s going to land on him, but it keeps going achingly slow past Paul and… lands on Susie. Christine claps, Amata wolf whistles, and Wally spits out a half-hearted threat about Butch touching his sister. Jamie sees Butch’s smile fade when he looks at Susie, but he catches himself quick and shoots her his most charming smirk.

“How’s about we hit the closet, babe?” he says, laying the greaser schtick on extra thick tonight. Susie blushes red as her bow and stands with him. They hold hands and both go down the hall and into the closet, the door closing softly behind them. Once they’re inside, Christine sets the egg timer they have to seven minutes and the murmur of conversation breaks out among the small group once again.

“How are you doing?” Amata nudges him gently. Jamie didn’t realize he’d just been staring at the bottle, his shoulders tense. He lets out a long sigh and shakes his limbs loose, leaning over to bump their shoulders together.

“I’m fine. This is fun, huh?” He says, trying to convince himself more than anything. He stares at the egg timer, trying not to imagine what could be happening in the closet. He looks back over at Amata and sees her smiling at him, a soft sadness behind her eyes – almost pity. Was he really that obvious?

“I’m gonna get another drink, want one?” he asks, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Amata just lifts her bottle that isn’t even half empty, a sheepish smile on her face.

“No thanks.”

Jamie walks to the kitchen. He rubs his eyes, his face already feeling warm. He’d only had two, maybe three beers. He definitely isn’t even close to being as drunk as he was when he and Butch… he shakes the thoughts of that night out of his head, dropping his empty beer bottles into the garbage can with a bit more force than he’d intended.

Before grabbing another beer, Jamie pours himself a shot of vodka for good measure. Butch must have brought it from his mom’s stash. It burns like hell going down and Jamie almost gags – how could anyone drink this stuff?

“Yo, Jamie!” He hears Freddie call for him and he grabs his beer and heads back to the circle. Butch and Susie are back. Her lipstick is smudged and she’s fixing her ponytail while whispering excitedly to Christine. Butch doesn’t look much better – his hair slightly mussed up and a bit of cherry red still spread on the corner of his lip. Jamie thinks he might be sick.

The timer goes off just as he sits back down, and Paul walks out of the closet with Amata. He’s scrambling to put his vampire teeth back in his mouth, his cape crooked around his neck, and Amata’s face is flushed when she sits next to Jamie. He can’t help his snort and she slaps him on the shoulder.

“It’s your turn, spaz.” Wally says, kicking the bottle his way. He looks pissed, glaring at Butch. Jamie wonders if they’ll fight later because he played tonsil hockey with his sister. He almost hopes they do, just so Butch can get his ass kicked like he deserves.

Jamie reaches forward and gives the bottle a half-hearted spin, just wanting to get his turn over with as soon as possible. It twirls and lands immediately on Butch. He feels like he’s swallowed a rock.

Butch let’s out a theatric groan, “I ain’t kissin’ you, Nosebleed, so let’s just go to the closet and get this over with.” Jamie’s face is on fire and he slams his beer down on the floor.

“Get stuffed, Butch!” It’s my turn, not yours, so I choose what we do!” Butch quirks an eyebrow at him and barks out a laugh, joined by everyone in the circle – aside from Amata, who squeezes Jamie’s hand reassuringly.

“So, you’re sayin’ you wanna kiss the Butch-man?” Jamie thinks he’s going to die, then. Or kill Butch, and then die. Like a murder suicide. Him and his stupid fucking mouth; he didn’t even think about how that would sound.

“N-No!” Jamie practically yells, his voice a squeak. “Fuck you!” He stands, crossing his arms. “Let’s go, closet then. Get this over with before I kick your ass.” He storms to the closet. Butch gets to his feet and follows him with a smug confidence that Jamie wants to beat out of him.

Suddenly remembering who he’s dealing with Wally says, “Hey! No fighting in my closet. You get blood on my dad’s coats and I’ll pummel you both.” They both turn and simultaneously flip the other boy off before shouldering their way into the closet and slamming the door.

It’s more cramped inside than Jamie expected it to be. Darker, too. The darkness is perfectly fine with him – he doesn’t even want to look at Butch right now. Though, that doesn’t last long as his eyes adjust.

“Hey, Nosebleed,” Butch whispers, his voice and his smile infinitely softer than they were a moment ago. They’re close, really close and Jamie’s head is swimming. Their knees bump when they move and the heat of their bodies radiating through the small space is almost suffocating. He can just make out the details of Butch’s face – the handsome slope of his nose and the playful quirk of his lips. He tries to stay mad, but it’s hard. He wants to kiss him so bad.

“Fuck off,” Jamie breathes, but his aggression is lackluster. Butch’s breath is warm against his face and it smells sweet, like mint. Butch chuckles softly.

“Aw, you’re mad at me?” he coos, leaning in closer and practically pressing Jamie against the opposite wall. “You know I was just kidding, Jamie. C’mon, they don’t know what we do.”

Jamie gulps, wondering if Butch means them just hanging out together or if he’s referencing something more. “As if I’d take Susie’s sloppy seconds ,” he hisses, determined to hold his grudge. Ok, so maybe their first kiss did mean something. He’s pretty sure they’re both drunk again, but they definitely aren’t wasted like before – there’s absolutely no way for Butch to pass whatever happens off as a mistake later. IF something happens.

Butch pulls back a little and looks almost hurt. “Hey, it’s just a dumb game,” he says, tilting his head to try and catch Jamie’s gaze, who refuses to look at him. “I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, okay? You know how much of a crybaby she can be.”

“Well, I’m not a crybaby, so you can keep it in your pants,” Jamie snaps and crosses his arms, shooting Butch as convincing of a glare as he can manage. The other boy just rubs the back of his neck, his posture suddenly a bit more closed off.

“Dammit, Jamie, ya know that’s not what I mean!” Jamie’s heart is thundering in his ears and his chest is so, so tight. He swallows thickly. He does know what Butch means but fuck it if he isn’t going to make the other boy work for it.

“Maybe I don’t,” he states matter-of-factly. Butch clicks his tongue in annoyance and shoves his hands in his pockets. Jamie can feel the distance between them growing further and he panics, desperate to cling to whatever moment they’re having here.

“What do you want?” he asks finally, his voice barely a whisper as he offers Butch this olive branch. The intensity he finds in Butch’s gaze when their eyes meet almost knocks him over.

“You.” It’s a single word, spoken so softly that Jamie almost can’t hear it, but it steals his breath away, nonetheless. He doesn’t even stop to think when he reaches forward and grabs the lapels of Butch’s jacket. He pulls him close, his eyes closing as their lips crash together in a clumsy kiss. It’s just as good as the last, the other boy’s lips warm and inviting as he returns the gesture with enthusiasm.

Butch grabs the back of Jamie’s head, knocking his silly cowboy hat to the floor, and curls his fingers into his hair. Jamie grins into his mouth when Butch nips his lower lip and he grabs the collar of his shirt, playfully shoving the taller boy against the opposite wall.

“Ow!” Butch hisses when he hits his head off the shelf above them, pulling back for a second to make sure it wasn’t too loud. Jamie’s face goes white.

“Oh god, sorry!” he whispers, letting go and pulling back in embarrassment. Butch just laughs.

“S’fine,” he mumbles, unable to stop smiling. He reaches out and pulls Jamie close again, silencing the other boy’s concerns with his lips.

They continue like that for a while, breathless and excited, their tongues exploring each other’s mouths and their arms holding them close like their lives depend on it. It really does feel like heaven, Jamie thinks, an excited laugh escaping his chest.

They could have stayed there forever, lost in their own little world, but they’re interrupted by a sharp knock on the other side of the door. “Time’s up! You can leave hell now.” Wally is laughing out in the hallway.

Butch and Jamie jump apart, their chests heaving and their lips pink. Butch just grins at him, blue eyes shining with mischief. “Should we pretend we were fighting?”

Jamie laughs. “Sure, but that means you’ll have to admit that I won,” he teases, picking up his hat and turning to leave. Butch grabs his wrist and tugs Jamie back to him. There’s a very serious expression on his face all of a sudden and he's biting his lip like he's thinking before he reaches out to tilt Jamie’s chin up. He leans down and presses one more open-mouthed kiss to his lips and it feels almost desperate. Jamie’s breath is stolen away again, at least whatever was left of it, and when they part, he just stares, dumbfounded, at Butch’s adoring smile.

“Whatever you want, Nosebleed.”

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 37

~*~Emma~*~

 Things are running very hot here. I don't mean the sex. Although, the sex is hot. This man. Oh fuck, I don't even know what to think. Thinking isn't the issue anyway. Unless it's that I'm not. Which I don't think is true. It's just that he feels so damn good.

I woke up before my alarm. Sebastian was on his stomach with one arm tucked under the pillow. I noticed a couple of freckles on his back and smiled. He looked completely relaxed and I decided to let him sleep a little longer. I slipped out of bed, tied my robe, and headed downstairs to make breakfast.

 A man-sized version of a rumbled little boy walked into the kitchen about thirty minutes later. He wore only his boxers and that he felt comfortable enough in my house to walk around half-naked made me smile.

 "I woke up alone." He came up behind me at the stove, pulling my hair to the side and kissing the back of my neck.

 Such a simple yet intimate act. I put my hand on his face, "You looked so peaceful. I thought I'd get coffee and breakfast going."

 He looked at the crumbled meat in the pan, "Is that going to be sausage gravy?"

"It is." I could feel him smile against my neck. "Biscuits are in the oven."

"You're so good to me." His arm snaked around my waist, holding me close.

I stroked the back of his head, "I like taking care of people I care for." I turned my head for a kiss. "Why don't you get some coffee and sit down. Breakfast will be another ten minutes."

He kissed my neck again, "I’m starving."  

 Sebastian kept talking while he fixed his coffee, telling me about the food on set and how shitty the biscuits were compared to the restaurant they’d gone to one morning. This led to a general conversation about craft services on set, location, and at concert venues. While it was on a much lesser scale it made for good conversation that I had some knowledge of this stuff. I could share stories and we could laugh together. I think I might feel like a fan if I didn’t have a point of reference and I would imagine that could be uncomfortable for him.

 He hadn’t sat down, preferring to lean in the corner a few feet from where I was stirring. I took my hand from the handle of the pan and motioned for him, “Come here.”

 Sebastian smiled and took the three steps to me, “Yes?”

 I slid my hand from his side around to his back and urged him closer, turning my face up for a kiss. “Will you pour this in the bowl for me, please?”

 “Of course.”

While he did that, I checked the biscuits and pulled them out. He put the pan back on the stove and looked at the biscuits, taking a deep breath. “Smells delicious.”

 “I hope you like it.” I was a little nervous cooking for him.

 He hugged me, putting his hand inside my robe to touch skin, “I’m sure I will.”

 The first bite had him letting out a satisfied groan, “Oh wow.” He took another bite and covered his mouth with his hand, “Seriously, Em, it’s delicious.”

 “Thank you.”

 Sebastian finished chewing, put his hand on the back of my neck, and kissed me, “Thank you.”  When we were finished, he pushed our plates to the other side of the breakfast bar, “You go shower and I’ll clean up.”

 “You sure.”

 He nodded, “Yep, you cooked. I’ll clean up.”

 “Your mom taught you well.” I kissed his bare shoulder and went upstairs.

 I called the Uber to pick us up at ten-thirty. We were downstairs and ready about ten minutes before. Sebastian looked all boy in black basketball shorts, a blue Under Armor shirt, and a baseball cap. I had on an oversized t-shirt over my team tank top and sweat pants with my hair pulled up in a ponytail. The combined excitement of him and the tournament had me keyed up.  Bouncy. Hyperactive even. Unable to sit down, I wandered around while Sebastian sat in the chair scrolling through something on his phone. “You ok there, babe?”

 I was hoping he hadn’t noticed. I jumped up and down a few times, “Nervous energy.”

 He still hadn’t looked up and shook his head, “We should have had sex in the shower.” Now, he looked up with a grin. “Calmed you down.”

 I laughed and walked over, sitting down on his lap when moved his phone out of the way. “Dammit.”

 “Nervous or excited?” He laid his arm over my legs, taking my hand in his.

 “Both.” I fiddled with his fingers. “It’ll go away once the game starts.” I looked up, “Unless it’s all about you.”

 He jerked his head back, “Why are you nervous about me?”

 “The other one. Excited.” I brushed my lips against his softly.

 “Good.”

 I’d told the driver to honk and the noise cut through the moment. “Time to go.”

 I jumped up off his lap, keeping his hand, and grabbing my bag from by the door. It held extra ponytail holders, Advil, tape, a first kit, and cooling rags. We got to the bar way early, a habit of mine. It was good though because I wanted to get Sebastian where he could see. There were four courts with court one in front with seating around two sides. The other three courts were lined up with court four tucked in behind court one with really no seating. The deck along the short side of court one ran the long side of most of court three and all of court two then around the corner of it. Obviously, the better games were going to be on courts one and two.  The deck would be loaded with umbrella-covered tables and a long counter ran along the railing for observing. When the games were over (or any other night) it was just a big outdoor bar. It was a huge complex. Inside was a big open area with a bar that wrapped around two sides. Anything could be going on inside. Karaoke, live band, or a DJ.  

 The Uber dropped us around back and we headed onto the deck. A covered area at the corner of court one was set up for registration and had a board set up with a blown-up bracket. The league coordinator was behind the table and I headed toward him. “Hey, Roger.”

 “Emma. Early as always.” He gathered the paperwork.

 “I want a table by one and two.”

 He looked around for the table signs, “Yep, taken care of. You’ve got your pick.”

 I took our registration papers and the signs with a laugh, “Which is why I’m always early.”

 “And you live five minutes away.”

 “Details.” I waved the papers, took Sebastian’s hand, and headed toward court one, explaining as we walked. “The higher seeded games and the championship will be on one, so we’ll get those tables first. Fingers crossed we play there. We always buy a couple of tables at a tournament because it’s just easier.” I stuck our “Player Reserved Demonic Crickets” sign in the table coils of the table closest to the net of court one then headed back the way we came, to the other side of the complex. “Friends are assured a good view and if we’re out a round we’ve got a place to hang.” I pointed to the other courts, “There are approximate start times for games, but past the first round it’s back to back, so times depends on how fast the games go. Seating for the other games isn’t as easy. Four sucks. Since we’re the three seed we’ll start on court three, but if we win we’ll bump up to court two then one. It’s a double-elimination tournament. The winner’s bracket will be on one and two, losers on three and four.”  I looked between the tables and put the sign up. “You can always go to another table or the railing.” I changed my mind and moved the sign, nodding with my new choice.

 I looked at Sebastian. He was fighting a smile. “This is a new and interesting side to you.”

 I laughed, “You mean the obsessive planner part?”

 “Yeah.”  He wrapped our joined hands behind my back, “Cute and a little annoying.”

 “Also, useful.” I annoyed myself sometimes.

 “I’m sure.” He nodded, kissed my forehead, and let me go.

 I moved to the table and started filling out the form. Standard roster and liability waiver stuff. “Pick your seat, we’ll play here first.”

 “Sure you don’t want to pick for me?”

 A glared playfully at him and went back to the form. Without looking up I pointed to my right, “That one.”

 I could see him suppressing a laugh as he put my bag in the chair I’d pointed to. “Mostly cute.”

 When he’d asked to come, I didn’t even think about him sitting up here with people he didn’t know. I was just excited to see him again. Only when I’d been picking tables did it hit me, I’d be on the court most of the day. “The place won’t fill up until later, closer to dinnertime and the semi-finals.”

 “Don’t worry about me. I’m excited to meet your friends. Do you know where the men's room is?"

I pointed to the end of the building, "Straight through those doors."

"Be right back." He ran his fingers along my lower back as he passed by.

I watched him walk away, twirling the pen against my lip. I stayed lost in my thoughts after he'd gone through the door.

A voice startled me, "Earth to Emma."

 I turned my head, "Right on time."

 Pete gave me a one-armed hug, "You're early so we don't have to be."

All five had walked up together, "Carpool?"

Lindsey shook her head, "No, people kept showing up in the parking lot."

Lindsey's girlfriend Samantha was standing with Pete's husband, Scott. Samantha had a dry almost bitchy sense of humor which I loved, "I’m apparently the designated bar bitch."

 I hugged her, "I brought a bar bitch too. He's in the bathroom." I pointed to the papers, "Sign so we can get them turned in and warm up.”

 Scott looked at Samantha, "Since your bar bitch, I’ll be paperwork bitch."

Where is Sebastian? This conversation would be perfect for an introduction. Everyone signed, Scott took off with the paperwork and the other’s headed to the court, Sam and I sat the table.

 Sam pointed to my bag, "Your date there? "

 I nodded.

 "Will I like him?"

 "Hopefully you'll all like him."

 Sam gave me a look that said she knew I was hedging the question. We’d become friends over her lack of tolerance for bullshit, which is why I answered, "I’m sure you and Pete will get along great with him. Becky’s going to be weird."

 Sam snickered, "Because Becky's weird. Nick and Jeff were dicks last night. Hope their mood is better today."

 I’d skipped out on drinks last night. Glad I missed moody boys, but I wasn't worried, "Maybe they got stoned on the way. Nick plays better stoned anyway." I looked toward the building and thought I could see Sebastian pacing in front of the darkened window. Someone must have called.

 Jeff yelled from the court, “You coming, Emma?”

 Sam turned her back on the court, “See?”

 I rolled my eyes and walked over. I didn’t want to walk around to the end of the courts so I climbed over the railing to get under the netting and landed on our bench.

Scott and Becky had designed out shirts. We all had bright blue tank tops with long armholes. Sports bras were easily visible and I’m pretty sure Becky considered that a feature rather than a bug. Not that I’d protested. I’m very competitive, but there was a social aspect to the game. Looking cute after the game didn’t hurt. Our team name and a graphic of a cricket with demon horns and an evil grin was on the front. Our first names on the back. The three girls had always worn volleyball shorts, but I’d bought us bright orange ones for today.  They were the ones I preferred in college and it’s possible they were a little shorter than what we usually wore.

 I stood up from the bench, tossing my sweats down, and adjusting my shorts. Nick looked at the three of us, “That’s going to distract the other team."

 A voice from behind me called out, "Fuck, that's gonna distract me."

I turned to meet his eyes, "You’re easy."

He leaned forward, "Only for you, baby."

 Nick groaned, "New relationships make me want to vomit."

Jeff added, "Which is why you don’t have one."

Not a one of them looked like they recognized him. I used their banter to give me time to walk over, step on the bench, and touch him through the netting, "Everything ok? You were gone a while."

"Emily called. Best to take it or she’d keep calling. Sorry."

I shook my head and turned back to the team, “Everyone, this is Sebastian." I pointed as I said names, “Pete, Becky, Lindsey, Nick, and Jeff."

The net made handshakes impossible, so he waved, "Nice to meet all of you."

Pete was the first to do the double-take. He pointed to the table, "That’s my husband Scott."

Lindsey repeated his gesture, "My girlfriend Samantha.”

 Sebastian nodded and looked toward the table. “I’m going to go introduce myself and let you guys get ready." He looked at me. “Need anything?"

"Not yet."

He got close to the netting, nodding his head back, "Come here."

 I got closer and kissed him between the netting. He whispered, "Good luck."

 Sebastian was few feet away when Pete did a Ricky Ricardo imitation, “Lucy, you got some ‘splainin to do."

 I glared and pointed a finger at them, “Do not embarrass me.”

 Nick laughed, “Oh, you can be sure that’s going to happen.”

 “He’s our Hall Pass.” Pete smiled dirtily.

 “Both of you?” Jeff shook his head.

 “Definitely. We own more than one copy of Political Animals and Kings.”

 I raised my shoulders and shook my head, “Don’t know what that is.”

 “Your boyfriend kisses boys in both.”

 I cringed, “I wouldn’t use the word boyfriend.”

 Pete grabbed a ball and rolled his eyes, “Whatever. He kisses boys. Hall Pass.”

 I followed behind with Becky and Lindsey, “That’s kinda hot.”

 Jeff passed a ball to me, “Have you not Googled these things?”

 “No, disrespectful. No Googling. We’re just getting to know each other the normal way.”

 Pete passed off to Lindsey, “I’ll send you pictures.”

[buttered-ghost-toast]

Listen, if you don't fill out all of those numbers and tell me everything about your MC I'm going to feel robbed

Oh geez, fam! ...aight. That took me a minute. But below you will find out more about my girl, Niri! 

1.      What is their favourite food?—

Cheeseburgers and carrots. 

2.       Do they have a fear of an animal? If so, what animal? –

Not a fan of snakes, lizards, frogs, sharks.

3.       What do they wear to bed? –

Shorts and a t-shirt. Sometimes nothing at all!! That had to stop when she moved into the HoL though. Brothers poppin’ in at all hours gettin’ an eyeful. Lucifer was upset. 

4.       Do they like cuddling?—

1000000000%. Niri’s a big ol’ cuddle bug. Asmo’s all about it. So is Beel. 

5.       Do they have a secret handshake with anyone? -- With Astaroth. It’s quite elaborate and they only ever do it when they decide to get up to trouble.

 6.       What do they look like? – 

She cute if I may say so myselffff (don’t judge me, she’s a self insert hah!) Mid to slightly above average height for a human female, fairly toned. Brown eyes, mid-back length hair that’s brown at the root, fades to a teal and purple under layers. Sometimes her hair will fade to a light yellowy-green. She has the hookup for dye from Barbatos who likes to procure things for her from the human realm. She also has quite a few tattoos.

 7.       Do they like chocolate? –

Only dark. She’s allergic to additives in certain milk chocolates so she doesn’t eat it much. 

 8.      What are their good and bad traits?

Good: Helpful, kind, encouraging, quite a hard worker in any task given her.

Bad: Easily swept up into trouble by others, will prioritize naps over other stuff sometimes, awfully flirtatious which gets her in hot water with Lucifer because apparently lesser demons keep poppin’ by the house with gifts also HUMAN, DID YOU REALLY JUST SAY THAT TO LORD DIAVOLO?! Oopsssssss~ Also, you know how Luci’s always doing the “MAAAAMMMOOOONNNNN…”…yeah, that’s almost always followed by “NIIIIIRIIIIIIIIII….”

 9.      Do they have any artistic talent?

Yes. She’s a musician so there’s that…and she likes to paint.

10.  What is their favourite room to be in, in the house they live in?

She likes the music room since the boys tend to spend quite a bit of time in there together, but she’s usually found in the kitchen making loads of food and baked goods…also, that’s where you’re more likely to find Beel, and she reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally likes Beel.

11.  Do they believe in luck?

To an extent. She believes that luck exists, but she thinks relying on it is a bit naïve.

12.  Can they do magic?

Like pull a rabbit out of a hat type thing? Yes. She picked up a few little tricks here and there from a friend who loves show magic. Def not the real stuff though.

13.  Do they believe in dragons?

She didn’t until she went to the Devildom. Not that they just have dragons hangin’ out all willy-nilly, but she’s heard stories from the brothers and others about dragons.

 14.  What is a pet peeve of theirs?

Rudeness and liars who don’t give up even after they’ve been caught in the lie. Also people who demand things of others as if they’re property and not living beings with feelings …this isn’t about Belphegor at all. Nope. She doesn’t have issues with him still.

15.  What was the last thing they cried about?

She was able to talk to all her bandmates at once for her weekly call home. They all just really miss each other, ok? It sucks that she has to lie to them about where she is because she knows they’re worried about her, but it was just nice to hear their voices.

16.  What is their sexuality?

Pan.

17.  Do they have a best friend? If so, who, and what makes them their best friend?

We’ll narrow this down to the Devildom. Niri gets along with everyone and literally loves all the beings she’s met and knows she could count on them for most anything, but there’s definitely a more solid feeling to her connection with Beelzebub. They sort of just get to be vulnerable and entirely open with one another and there is never judgement or ill will, even when Beel eats her secret snack stash…again.

 She’s kind of getting to that point with Astaroth as well, but she can sense he’s still a little guarded in certain aspects, and she’s not going to push.

18.  Have they ever been in a romantic relationship?

Yes, quite a few. It’s not her favorite thing to talk about since she’s been quite unlucky in that aspect, but hey, the past is the past.

19.  What does their relationship with their family look like? Are they close? Distant? Ect.

Her actual family family (with the exception of her brother) are not close in the least. They’re sort of barely on speaking terms. Her chosen family (comprised of her band and some of the closest staff) is extremely close.

20.  Do they have a pet?

No. She loves animals and had a dog up until recently, but they passed. It’s okay though, they had a good long life and it wasn’t painful for them when it happened.

21.  Do they have a familiar?

Nope. Non-magical.

22.  Are they a supernatural being?

Nope! “Boring” human, but she does seem to always find herself in weird situations that are sorta paranormal.

23.  How do they usually wear their hair?

It really just depends on the day. If she had time to work on it, it’s down and straight. If it’s a rush in the morning (read: fight for the bathroom because Beel won’t MOVE) she’ll toss it in a bun or ponytail depending on how hot it is outside. There are the odd days when she’ll just let it vibe in its natural wavy/curly state, but she kind of got fed up with the brothers calling her a sheep because it’s so fluffy.

24.  Can they play an instrument? If so, what instrument and what can they play?

Yes! She learned guitar and bass at a young age and was tinkering with drums before she was whisked away to the Devildom.

25.  What type a high schooler are/were they?

She was the quiet weird kid that didn’t quite fit in with the weird weird crowd, but also wasn’t popular. Plenty of people knew her or of her, but she mainly stuck with her group of friends and was nice to everyone.

26.  Have they ever been in a physical fight before? If so, with who? Who won?

Yes. Just small bits of violence. No one of import, tbh. But there was that one time they all went out to party at the fall and Mammon and Levi started teasing her and in her drunken state, Niri went to punch Mammon who managed to duck so she hit Levi square in the nose. He was fiiiiiiine.

27.  What is their favourite holiday?

Halloween because it’s fun, Christmas because of the togetherness, and EASTER BECAUSE MARSHMALLOW PEEPS!

 28.  If they could have one wish, what would they wish for?

A pass to go from the Devildom to the Human realm and back whenever she wants forever.

 29.  Do they wants kids? If they already have kids, do they want more?

No. Never.

 30.  Do they have a job?

Yes? Being a singer in a band is a job, right? It doesn’t always feel like a job because it’s awesome, but it’s a job.

 31.  Do they know how to drive?

Yes. She has convinced Mammon to let her drive his car on a few occasions and every time they get back he swears NEVER AGAIN. She a little speed demon.

 32.  Do they get stressed out easily?

Funny story, actually…YES. But she is pretty good at not letting it show. So on the outside she’s like la-la-la~ but inside it’s all AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA~~~

 33.  Did they ever dye their hair before? If so, to what colour? Did they like it?

Absolutely lol. Niri has gone through a few colors in her life, but her favorite is and always will be the teal. (Fun fact: the purple came from a happy accident a few years back when she dyed over a pink shade and a layer turned out purple. She liked it so now she does it that way on purpose.)

 34.  Have they ever broken the law?

Never anything egregious, but she’s gotten tickets for stuff in the human world. Disturbing the peace, speeding, she was fined once (along with her bandmates) for a surprise free show they did in front of a train station which got a lot more attention than they were expecting and wound up shutting down a couple city blocks. Oooooooooopsss~

 35.  Do they own a plant?

She’s really bad with plants. REALLY bad. She was gifted a plant by Simeon a couple weeks into the exchange program and it took an embarrassingly long time for her to notice it was a fake plant…since he knows she sucks at keeping things alive.

 36.  Have they ever rode a horse before?

Once, and it was a terrifying experience so she just keeps her distance now.

 37.  What is their favorite gif?

anything featuring Titus Andromedon.

 38.  Do they get along with others easily?

 She tries to. It’s not always possible, but she tries, dammit!

 39.  Do they have any tattoos?

Several, yes. One arm sleeve done, starting the other arm, both thighs have massive pieces on them and both ribs done as well. There are also a few small things on her fingers and back.

 40.  If I wanted to draw them, what would be distinct physical features that I would have to know to draw them correctly?

Lotta hair. Looooooottttta hair. And heavily winged eyeliner. Big lashes.

 41.  What is their favourite breed of dog?

Huskies. They’re just so cute and sassy! And perfectly sized!! Great cuddle buddies and fun to run with!

 42.  Do they live with anyone? If so, who?

Not in the human world, but she’s got 7 kinda irritating roomies in the Devildom!

 43.  Where is their dream vacation?

She’s traveled extensively, so there isn’t anywhere she dreams of going that she hasn’t already seen. Her favorite place is anywhere mountainous and lush.

 44.  Do they know more than one language?

Yep. Niri’s a language nerd. Because she likes to speak to fans and stuff, she has set it on herself to learn as many languages as she can. She’s not perfectly fluent in all of them, but it’s a good handful that she can hold a full conversation in. She and Satan like to practice with one another around the house, despite complaints from the others.

 45.  Are they a quick learner?

Depends. Most things, yes…..math and processes requiring math, NO.

 46.  Have they ever won a contest before? If so, what for? What did they win?

No, she’s not really the luck having type.

 47.  If the world were to end in 24 hours, where would they be and who would they be with?

Probably hugging Beel. They hug often. They’re kinda always together. It’s gross according to Leviathan and Belphegor.

 48.  What does their room look like?

She didn’t change much in the room she was given at the HoL. Just added her fake plant from Simeon and a few human things…she actually got the “Hang in There” kitty poster just for kicks. Lucifer hates it.

 49.  If they could have an extinct animal for a pet, what would they have?

A dodo bird. Because they’re weird and cool.

 50.  If they got called out by someone, what would they do?

Laugh and argue probably. Depends what they’re calling her out on.

51.  Have they ever shot a gun before?

Yep. Actually enjoys shooting, it’s a fun stress reliever. She makes a point to drop by shooting ranges every once in a while back home.

 52.  Have they ever been axe throwing?

Once at a renaissance festival on an odd week of downtime. She didn’t do so well. The throwing was fine, but she never hit the target. Just be glad she didn’t hit a person either!

 53.  What is something that they want but can’t have?

At the moment, all the people she loves in one place.

 54.  Do they know how to fish?

Nope! She’s a mess with that kind of thing. Also, she doesn’t like the idea of fishing for anything herself. It makes her cry to think of the fish on the hook :<.

 55.  What is something they always wanted to do but too scared?

Hmm…Niri tries to live her life in a way that she won’t have regrets, so even if something is scary, she’ll pluck up the courage to do it. But…she still hasn’t jumped out of a plane.

 56.  Do they own their own baby pictures?

Absolutely not. She cringes thinking of the outfits her parents used to put her in, so she did her best to keep those kinds of things buried and acts like they never existed. Nope. Was never a baby. Nope.

 57.  What makes them standout among others?

Niri is a pro at pretending she’s confident, so she tends to draw attention when she walks in a room like she owns the place. Also her hair is kinda bright.

 58.  Do they like to show off?

Not really. She’s flamboyant in a sense, but she doesn’t go out of her way to call attention or to be center stage…heh.

 59.  What is their favourite song?

She can never pick, honestly. There are so many songs that are so amazing!

 60.  What would be their dream vehicle?

That’s a very good question. Probably something sitting in her garage back home. Probably being driven by one of her bandmates. Because hey, what are friends for?

 61.  What is their favourite book?

Not that she isn’t a big reader, but she doesn’t really get the time to enjoy books. There’s always something that needs attention or someplace to be and she’s required to engage, so focusing on a book or story is hard, but she’s a fan of classic novels, poetry, and Greek tragedies are always good!

 62.  Who, in their opinion, makes the best food?

She likes everything Barbatos makes and thinks Luke’s desserts are fantastic, but there’s something about a human recipe that just warms her heart, so…..herself. Lol.

 63.  Are they approachable?

Absolutely! If you can get past her intimidating resting face.

 64.  Did they ever change their appearance?

Not drastically, but she has gone through a few different phases until settling on a good one.

65.  What makes them smile?

The silliness of those around her. Thinking of good memories with family/friends. Puppies.

 66.  Do they like glowsticks?

Yes. She has a stockpile of glowsticks that the brothers keep adding to.

 67.  What is something that is simple, but always makes them smile?

Watching the brothers bicker, even if it’s getting out of hand. It reminds her of her friends and how they always pick on one another.

 68.  Are they a day or night person?

Night, usually. Not that she dislikes the daytime, but day usually has so much stuff to be done whereas night is the fun stuff that doesn’t need a schedule.

 69.  Are they allergic to anything?

Some milk chocolate, bell peppers, and certain devildom plants.

 70.  What do you, the creator of this OC, like most about them?

She’s a spunky little thing who loves to have fun and make others smile above all else.

 71.  Who is their ride or die?

In the Devildom, Beelzebub and Astaroth.

Beel for most things, and Asta for the stuff Beel won’t do.

 72.  Do they currently have a significant other? If not, are they going to get one later one?

Erm…eh…look, it’s never been officially labeled or anything, ok? Like yeah they’re kind always together and have pet names for each other and like always touch and cuddle and like snuggle up in bed together and stuffffffffffff but like, idk? Is Beel her dude? Like….do we wanna even get into that?????? I mean, maybe someday? Like…what? What was the question??

 73.  What attracts them to another person?

A genuine heart, a killer smile, and a rockin’ bod. Yeah okay look everyone can be a little shallow sometimes okay get off her case >__<.  

 74.  Who is one person that can always make them laugh?

She’s a damn fool and will laugh at ANYTHING, so it’s not hard. Everyone makes her laugh. The girl will 9 times out of 10 laugh at herself for the dumbest moments.

 75.  Have they ever partied too hard and their friends had to take them home?

Oh yes many times. Many many times.  One of the first few times she hung out (went on a date) one-on-one with Beel they had a drinking contest and as it turns out, he can really hold his devil liquor.

 76.  Who would be their cuddle buddy?

She’ll cuddle up to Beel 99.9% of the time because he’s big and warm and always happy to hold, but she also really enjoys cuddling with Asmodeus. He’s such a sweetie and he smells so nice and they just snuggle and talk and laugh and it’s a nice escape. (Loads of times there are Asmo x Niri x Asta sandwiches in Asmo’s room.)

 77.  Who would cheer them up after a long day?

She tends to go to one of the brothers depending on what kind of day it’s been. Most of the time it’s gonna be Beel because again, big/warm/happy to hold her, but there are occasions where she’ll drag Beel to one of the others’ rooms and they’ll just hang out.

 78.  If they had a nightmare, who would they run to?

I mean…Beel. Lol. He’s right there.

 79.  What object to the care for the most?

She has a picture of her friends from back home that sits on her desk. She treasures that above all while she’s down in the Devildom.

 80.  Do they like other people’s children?

Sure. Kids are fine as long as they go back to their parents after a bit.

 81.  How would they react if someone broke into their home?

Seeing as there’s always someone coming into her room regardless if she’s there or not, she probably would just shrug it off. If someone decided to have a bad lapse in judgement and break into the HoL? She wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

 82.  Does anyone make them have butterflies in their stomach?

I mean….Beel. Lol. He so big and cute! Also Diavolo because he also big and cute.

 83.  What is something that they are good at?

Crying to get out of trouble. She’s a little shit. Lol.

 84.  What is their neutral expression?

Niri kinda always looks pissed off or uninterested?  Until she smiles and you realize oh, she’s just a big ol’ faker.

 85.  Do they like to cook?

Yes. It’s one of her very favorite things to do!

 86.  What is something they can’t leave home without?

Her phone! (and Beel) but like, there’s just so much a phone can do!

 87.  Who is someone that they rely on?

Have I mentioned ever that Simeon is (or was at one time) Niri’s guardian angel? He seems to always be there and ready to help in any way, so she’s pretty reliant on him and hopes he feels the same toward her. (He does. Cue uwu’s)

 88.  Do they liked to be tickled?

Absolutely not. She’s extremely ticklish and hates being tickled. She flails and cries.

 89.  Have they ever been a sword fight before?

No. No she has not lol. Unless empty wrapping paper tubes count? She’s done that.  

 90.  What is a joke that they would find funny?

All the bad ones. All of them. Ugly laugh here we go!

 91.  Do they have a place that can go and turn off their brain?

The gardens at RAD. It’s peaceful and there’s a great  view of the sky.

 92.  What was their childhood like?

Not bad, but not memorable. There was a lot of pressure put on her to be a perfect kid, and she didn’t get to have a whole ton of fun.

 93.  What are they like as an adult?

Responsible, but definitely fun-loving. Like I mentioned before, she likes to live in a way that she won’t ever regret not having done something she wanted to do, or regret any actions she took, so she’s always got an open mind and welcomes new experiences. She’s a big ol’ kid.

 94.  Do they take criticism well?

Yes. She welcomes criticism in any form as she is always looking to be the best person she can be.

 95.  Have they ever jumped out of a plane?

No. Not yet!

 96.  Who do they like to make jokes with?

Literally anyone. A total joker. Big big clown.

 97.  Have you ever drawn them before? If you are comfortable with it, would you post a picture?

Yes! I draw Niri every once in a while. I actually need to draw her again soon! I miss that girl.

[velmalav]

bubbles {roger taylor}

warnings: lightly implied nudity, swearing.

synopsis: roger and reader share a bubble bath after a party. 

word count: 2k+

***

  It had been another long, seemingly unbearable shift at work. As soon as the rickety back door of the factory shut and the cool air encircled me, I sighed in relief. Saturday evening shifts were the absolute worst, but at least I always had somewhere to be afterwards. This particular night, my close friend Freddie had invited me to one of his unhinged, bombastic parties.

  I’d initially met Fred right before he’d become lead singer of Smile. We were always running into each other at the bus stop, sharing gas station snacks and chatting about our future plans. He was so ambitious and had this otherworldly vibe to him, and I guess he felt the same about me, because ever since, he’d treated me like family.

  The bus ride over gave me to time to slide my ponytail out of my hair and cover my hideous factory outfit with a black leather jacket and some heels. The black work pants would just have to do for tonight, but after the shift I’d had, it was the least of my worries.

  Fred’s house was a couple of blocks from the stop I got off at, but I could hear the music as soon as I stepped onto the street. A steady rainfall had picked up during the ride over, so by the time I reached his front door, I was soaked head to toe – save for the small portion of my head covered by a magazine that I’d found on the bus.

  I walked straight in, as I usually do, and immediately spotted Brian, Roger, and John sitting around one of Fred’s many fireplaces, drinks in hand. It was already nearly one in the morning, so I expected them – if not most people in the place – to be piss drunk.

  Taking a glass of wine from a random table, I slid into the spot beside Brian. He raised his eyebrows at me, “Do you even know who’s that is?”

  Shaking my head with a smile, I downed it. A server came by with a sparse tray, presumably to start clean up, but I intercepted another full glass no one had bothered to grab. Downing that one just as fast as the first, I was met with three skeptical stares.

  “Someone must’ve had a night,” Roger commented, crossing an ankle over his knee.

  “The usual bullshit. Wish I could’ve gotten here before it got…” meeting his eyes, I grimaced. “sad.”

  “Fred passed out ages ago, so you’re definitely right on that one,” Brian replied.

  “What are you guys doing sitting around so late? And sober at that.”

  Roger glanced over his shoulder to a red head standing at the bottom of the staircase. “Definitely not sober, love. But had my eyes on somethin’.”

  “Good luck with that, Rog,” I quipped, chuckling as I reached for another discarded wine glass that wasn’t completely empty. Again, Brian judged me for it.

  With my blessing, Roger got up and shimmied his way over the staircase. I continued my search for scraps while chatting lightly with Brian and John, but there was really nothing new happening, and the party died down even quicker than it had before.

  By the time the last few guests cleared out, and John and Brian had bid their farewells, I was tipsy and stumbling around Fred’s messy foyer. For some reason, I found myself reorganizing his shoe closet while wearing one of his robes – sheer and floral, just how I liked them.

  He had a lot of wild options – none suitable for the outdoors, but they were fun to look at. I swear I splashed a few drops of wine into some of his boots, and had stained his one pair of white clogs. Brian would definitely comment on that sooner rather than later.

  But even cleaning got boring, believe it or not. My drunk self was finding it harder and harder to see straight, but I was determined to make the rest of this night a dream… even if it was nearly four in the morning. So I ran myself a bath.

  Fred’s bubble bath options were pathetic to say the least, but I made sure to use a fair amount (if you call a whole bottle a fair amount). My toes swirled around the water to test the temperature before fully submerging a leg in, and soon my whole body. The bubbles began to tower over me, so much so that I had to swish them away periodically. But for the first time that night, I finally felt like I was having fun. My eyes drifted shut, head lolling back against the tub.

  “You planning on flooding the whole bloody bathroom?” a voice spoke.

  Eyes flying open, I quickly found Roger standing at the door with his arms crossed. His eyes seemed to be burning a hole through my face, looking at me in a way I’d only seen him look at his nightly hookups. It didn’t even hit me that I was naked until I remembered where I was, and saw that water was steadily running down the sides of the bath.

  Shrieking a little, I flew up to grab the faucet, but my feet slipped and I fell right back into the bubbles. Roger chuckled as he walked over, turning off the water himself.

  “Still piss drunk I see,” he smirked, before chuckling again at my red face. It was the only thing visible at this point, as every step closer he took, the further I sunk down into the bubbles.

  “Hardly,” I mumbled, bubbles popping at my mouth movement. Peering up at him, I smiled. “You know what? I very much am actually. But I’m having a great time.”

  Roger rolled his eyes with another belly laugh. His face settled again; however, as he ran his fingers along the water. “Still warm,” he muttered. His eyes were now playful as they met my sheepish ones. “Can I join?”

  Even in the state I was in, it was still strange for him to ask me that. He’d never shown any interest in me; it was always small talk and light-hearted jokes with him. But tonight, he must’ve been feeling rather desperate, or still maybe even a little drunk.

  I hesitated. “Um, if you want,” my voice just barely a whisper as I played with the bubbles around my mouth.

  The next time I looked up, Roger had already discarded his shirt and was in the process of unbuttoning his pants. I couldn’t help but watch, heart jumping up and down inside of my chest. He must’ve felt me staring, because he took a quick glance over his shoulder to raise his eyebrows at me.

  “You like what you see?” he joked, tossing one of his socks at me.

  I squealed and volleyed it away. “You’ve got some nerve considering I’m sharing my bath with you, Rog.”

  Right as he went to pull down his underwear, I sat up and rested my elbows against the side of the tub, slicking my hair back. “Excuse me, boy, but I hope you don’t plan on coming in here without your swim trunks.”

  Roger fully turned around now, eyeing me suspiciously.

  I bat my eyelashes sarcastically. “I’m sure Fred’s got some in his closet.”

  At this point, he knew it was a joke, but made a point to press it along further. “Well in my defense, I didn’t know Fred’s bathrooms followed community pool rules.”

  “I mean, this tub is pretty big,” I explained with a shrug, earning another laugh from Roger.

  Before I could even react, he was beside me, the tips of his blonde hair darkening from the water. Without meeting his eyes, I went back to staring out from the edge of the tub, head falling to lay on my arms. I didn’t feel so tipsy anymore – thank God.

  “So what happened with the red head from earlier?” I wondered out loud.

  I could feel Roger’s eyes on me. “Wasn’t nearly as fun as I’d imagined.”

  I finally took the liberty of facing him, my back now against the tub. “I’m sure this is much more fun then.”

  He smiled at that, moving closer so that he was directly in front of me. This tub suddenly felt so small. I tucked my legs under me in hopes that I could separate myself a bit.

  “You are one of Fred’s more interesting friends, I must say,” Roger said.

  I cocked my head, eyebrows raising. “Thanks?”

  “Not many would invite me into their bubble baths, for one.”

  He slid close, close enough for our knees to touch.

  “I’m pretty sure you invited yourself.”

  Closer again. Now only a thin layer of bubbles separated us. I was sure Roger could feel my heart considering how forceful and rapidly it was beating. His eyes were hooded, signaling that he was still a bit hazy from the alcohol.

  Maybe he could feel my unease, or maybe he couldn’t, but Roger had always known how to lighten the mood. Picking up a handful of bubbles, he blew them straight into my face. I huffed them back off me, coughing as I had inhaled a bit before we both began to laugh.

  “How much did you even use? A whole gallon?” Roger asked.

  Without so much as a response, I grabbed my own handful and returned the favor until his entire face was covered in bubbles.

   “I should’ve seen that coming, I suppose,” he chuckled.

  I found myself sliding closer to him, so when he wiped the soap from his face, our noses were almost touching. His smile immediately faltered. I reached up and stacked some of the bubbles on top of his head, small giggles falling from my lips as the excess toppled down onto his shoulders and down the back of his neck.

  We stayed like that for a while, both trying to bury the other in the seemingly endless bubbles. It got pretty competitive, chock full of trash talk.

  Once our childlike games had finished, I leaned to the side to wet my hair again, unknowingly revealing my chest as the bubbles floated away from my body. When I glanced back over, Roger was obviously staring. Before I could cover myself back up, he snaked his arms around my waist, tugging me into him. His hands glided down to my lower back and back up to the center, fingers digging in just slightly. It was soothing.

  “Can I ask you something?” I breathed, resting both hands on his shoulders.

  “Mmm,” Roger hummed. As he awaited my question, one of his hands reached up to brush away some soap residue from my forehead.

  “What are we doing?”

  “Having a bath, love,” he chuckled, the hand that was previously on my forehead now trailing to rest along my jaw. “Still got a lot of soap on you.”

  His touch was hypnotizing, enough to pull my eyelids closed. “Mind getting it off then?”

  “Already on it,” Roger whispered.

  When I reopened my eyes, his hands weren’t moving anymore, and he was gazing over at me. I could feel my face heating up and broke eye contact, looking to where our chests met. Almost on cue, he began to pour little handfuls of warm water down the sides of my face. I could see the soap pooling around us, white residue beginning to stick to our bodies.

  “Not sure we’re being proactive here-“ I started, but was quickly cut off by Roger’s hand cupping my cheek, the other gripping my side, causing me to yelp.

  “Something else about you, what sets you apart from Fred’s other friends…” he murmured so quietly. “You’re so gorgeous. Funny, too.”

  In any other scenario, the words wouldn’t have penetrated and would’ve been met with complete spite. But tonight, wine drunk in a bubble bath in the early hours of the morning, I let them melt me.

  “Really boosting my ego, Taylor,” I purred.

  Roger bit his lip to hold back the smile from my comment. “Even in that dreadful uniform, when your hair is pulled back and you can see sweat forming at your hairline. You’ve always caught my eye.”

  Now this, this didn’t feel like a regular compliment. His words were sincere, as if he wanted me to know that despite what I’ve I already known him to be, he meant them.

  “Well,” I mustered out, voice trembling. I glanced down at my hand as it trailed up into his hair before latching itself onto a handful. Meeting his stare, I leaned into him. “I’d be lying if I said I never… thought of you.”

  Roger’s eyes lit up. With that confirmation, I leaned up and slowly connected our lips. The kiss was sweet and sultry. He bent closer to me so he could completely envelope me in his touch. I don’t think we could’ve gotten any closer in that moment.

  When we pulled apart, both of us were panting. Roger ran a hand gently up and down my throat, fingers light as they slid along. I finally let go of his hair, earning disappointed hum from him.

  We stayed in the tub until the water got cold, the bubbles dissolved, and the curtains surrounding the windows began to change from their regular blue to a light orange, signaling the morning light.

  And at nearly seven in the morning, both huddled into the corner of the tub, arms wrapped around each other, with soft smiles on both of our faces, I couldn’t deny the butterflies in my stomach.

***

masterlist 

[lemonz-and-limez]

Hey, saw you were taking prompts! How about where shamy come back from Stockholm and finally decide that it’s time to start trying for a baby. :) thanks!

A/N: Hope this fits the prompt, I haven’t done something like this in a long time so if it sucks (probably) I apologize in advance. 😊

Amy wanted a baby.

She also knew that Sheldon wanted one. However, the subject had not been brought up again since the day they watched Howard and Bernadette’s children. Even then, the matter was left on a somewhat mysterious note, with Sheldon mentioning his 15 children idea again and leaving it at that.

It wasn’t that Amy was opposed to having lots of children, but 15? That was too many. She knew that they would find a way to compromise, but she did not know how to broach the subject again. They had just recently got back from Sweden after receiving their Nobles, and they were still trying to settle back into a regular routine. Plus with Leonard and Penny’s baby on the way, Amy didn’t want to detract any attention from them.

But she wanted a baby.

It was one of those rare days where they had the opportunity to spend the day alone in their apartment. Sheldon doing god knows what on his computer and Amy treating herself to a relaxing bath. She figured that she could broach the subject during dinner, and she had practiced her speech multiple times in her head. However, finding it in herself to actually bring it up would be the hard part.

She pulled her hair into a half ponytail as she walked into the living room. She found Sheldon in the same place she left him almost two hours ago when she retreated to the bathroom. On the couch with his computer.

At first, she thought he was playing one of those online video games with his friends, but the way that his shoulder’s seemed stiff clued her into the fact that he was doing something else.  

“Hey,” Amy softly greeted, snaking her arms around her husband’s shoulders, placing a gentle kiss to his cheek as she did so. With her chin finding it’s home near the crook of his neck, he was able to get a glance as to what he was doing on his laptop. Ikea?

“Are you shopping?” She asked, furrowing her brow in confusion.  

He nodded. “Yes, I need to find a new closet organizer,” he said, clicking on something he already saved to his bag. “What do you think of this one?”

He lifted up the screen so she could get a better look. Unlocking her arms from around him, she took the laptop from his hands. “Why are you looking for a new closet organizer? What’s wrong with the one we have now?”

Sheldon gave her an incredulous look, as though the answer was obvious. “Amy, before you changed your wardrobe it consisted mainly of skirts, blouses, and cardigans; shorter items if you will. Then you went out and bought all these dresses that are much longer than anything you owned before. I don’t know if you have checked recently, but some of them are dragging on the floor, and that is just unacceptable.”

Amy’s mouth hung open as she tried to process what he just said. However, when she caught a glance at his, almost concerned face, she softened. “Oh, Sheldon, it’s very sweet of you to look for this, but I really don’t mind, honestly,” she assured him, handing back his laptop and joining him on the couch.

“But I do!” he exclaimed, rubbing at his temples. “It bothers me, Amy.”

Amy thought about it for a second. It would be nice not to clean of lint from dresses she hung on the bottom. Or to iron dresses that wrinkled because there was no room to accommodate its length. She conceded. “Ok, if it’s bothering you that much, I think it would be good to get a new system.”

Sheldon perked up, ecstatic that she was on board. Amy loved watching the way his eyes sparkled with excitement. “Great! Let me tell you about the one I picked out. Don’t worry I’ve measured and everything…”

Amy smiled while Sheldon explained to her all the great things about the new closet. She still couldn’t figure out why things like this made him so happy, but nevertheless, it was one of his many idiosyncrasies that she loved.

She never did bring up the topic of babies until two weeks later when they were setting up the new closet.

Trying to find an appropriate time to bring up the topic was proving to be more difficult than she thought. Every time she tried, she either got too nervous, or there was something else he wanted to talk about. However, never once did Sheldon hear the word ‘baby’ out of her mouth. It was beginning to frustrate her.

Sheldon was handing her various articles of clothing while she set them neatly onto her bed. Cleaning out the closet was proving to be more of a task than she thought. However, they had worked themselves into a routine, finding their rhythm. There was nothing but silence between them as they worked. Sheldon didn’t even need to turn his body to hand her the various dressed he pulled from the closet.

The amiable silence between them was something that Amy knew he loved; however, it was starting to burn a hole in her skull.  The topic that had been on the tip of her tongue for weeks was beginning to bite at her.

Amy knew there would be no better opportunity.

“Sheldon, I think we should have a baby.”

What happened next shocked Amy. Of all the scenarios she came up with in her head, his reaction did not fit any of them. He didn’t yell, he didn’t freak out, he didn’t leave, he didn’t just pass out. In fact, his reaction was very demure, he was calm as he rotated his torso slightly to look at her. There was no crazed look in his eye that showed her any contempt. His hands seemed steady as he handed her more dresses. There was no lecture, all that came out of his mouth was a simple:

“Ok.”

And although his arm was outstretched with yet another of her garments, she did not move to take it. Her mouth hung open in shock, and she gawked at her husband’s calm demeanor.

Sheldon’s brow furrowed, and he gazed quizzically at his wife. “Amy?”

His voice seemed to snap her out of her stupor. “Sorry,” she said, taking the dress from his outstretched hand. “That was not the reaction I was expecting.”

He moved back to the closet. “What reaction were you expecting?” He questioned, handing her the last of the clothes.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I guess I figured you would freak out and leave or something.”

Amy saw a certain softness behind Sheldon’s eyes that warmed her heart. It was the side of Sheldon that no one else got to see; the side of him that only she had privileges to. “You know I want to have children with you, why would you assume I would freak out at the notion of them?”

Again she shrugged. “In all the years we’ve been together, we’ve never really excelled in the serious discussion department. And the only other time we have talked about having children was when we helped Howard with babysitting. Even then,” she paused, averting her eyes from him to look at the clothes neatly sprawled across the bed. “I didn’t think you were taking it that seriously.

Hearing him sigh, she felt him move closer to her back, wrapping his arms around her midsection and resting his head on her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry I made you feel that way. You should never be afraid to come talk to me, you know that, right?”

“I know.”

“And I do want to have children with you. Lots of them. If 15 is too many for you, then I’m sure we can find a suitable number for both of us.” His arms tightened around her, and his lips moved closer to her ear. “How does 12 sound?”

By the tone of his voice, she knew he was joking. She giggled at his playfulness and turned in his arms to face him. While his eyes still held their playful glint, she could tell he had gone serious again.

“Amy, I do want a family with you, I have for a long time,” he said. “And I do think that now is the perfect time to start trying, I’ve actually thought of talking to you about it, but things kept getting in the way.”

He’d been thinking about it too? It was so strange to her that they were both having the same struggle. However, it made her all too happy. He wanted it, it was real, they were going to try and have a family.

“So, we’re going to do this then?” She asked. “We’re going to try and have a baby.”

His hands that had settled on her hips squeezed them slightly. “If we’re both in agreement, yes.”

She wanted a baby.

“We’re both in agreement, my love.”

He flashed her a gentle smile, placing an equally gentle kiss upon her lips. He didn’t pull away like she thought he would, in fact, he lingered for a while. His mouth dancing perfectly with her own. His hand caressed her back in the most tender of touches before it buried itself into the back of her short hair.

Deciding to go along with him, she tangled her own arms around his neck. The loving and gentle kiss was turning into one of passion a lust, something that happened many a time for the couple after their nuptials. Sheldon was desperate to get her as close to him as possible, but no matter what he did, it never seemed to be enough. He pried her mouth open with his own, still not close enough. He pulled her so close to his own body that it was almost painful for both of them, yet, not close enough.

He suddenly broke away from her, leaving her rooted in the place where he left her. She was panting as she watched him begin to hang all the clothes back into the closet. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m putting the clothes back,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was, but she was still confused. He noticed this and clarified it for her. “We’re going to need the bed, sweetheart, if you help me it will go faster.”

It should have been clear to her before what he was doing. So, when he did explain it, she mentally slapped herself for not realizing it before. However, that was quickly forgotten when the anticipation caught up to her.

Baby-making was starting early.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!

[hashire]

behind [closed] doors

Hi yes I am here to add spice to this very pure ship because that’s just what I do. Have some nicosasha makeouts. ;)

*

Grior leaves the kitchen without a word, as usual. He’s never been a friendly person, though Nicolo has noticed that he’s become increasingly cold in the past few months. They used to exchange something similar to pleasantries when they met in Marley and agonized together initially about being held prisoner. Now they spoke little.

Really, Nicolo has never minded working in silence. He did, however, recently feel the need to discuss the day's events, as lacking as they may have been. And maybe his voiced thoughts usually strayed to Sasha and things related to her...but it doesn't matter. Grior was never someone he considered a friend, even before they came to the island.

He had, at least, kept his mouth shut about her tonight. He wouldn't say she was acting differently than normal. She just stood a bit closer to him that day, both prior to and following the meals, when she returned her dishes. When she kissed his cheek before leaving - because she's bold, so bold (though the only remaining people were her close-knit group of friends) - she lingered. She put her hand on his other cheek and stayed there for longer than normal. She was moving a little as she did so, but Nicolo was distracted. Connie and Jean were making odd motions while glaring:  it wasn’t the first time it happened, he just couldn’t figure out what they were trying to communicate.

The moment was over when Sasha skipped away, cuffing Jean on the shoulder and putting Connie in a headlock, cheeks suspiciously pink as she did so. A struggle ensued, though Nicolo decided to return to the kitchen instead of watching.

Grior didn’t need to know about it. He probably didn’t even want to know about it.

Nicolo realizes that he’s been staring at the dishes to be put away when he hears the door open. He has his back to it but it must be Grior, coming back to snap at him about curfew and being lazy and all of that. He busies himself with opening the cupboard door and lifting a stack of plates up, ready to brush off all snark that his not-so-willing partner has to offer.

Then two arms snake around his waist, a warm body pressing against his back shortly after. Nicolo goes stiff with shock and is ready to demand what Grior is on about when he hears the sigh:  a soft, musical noise. “I thought he would never leave.”

The plates stay suspended in the air as he tries to process this turn of events. The moment extends long enough that Sasha withdraws. “Nicolo?”

He brings the plates down. “What are you doing here?” he says finally, turning his head to look at her over his shoulder. Her brow creases.

“Didn’t you read my note?” She takes a step back to allow him to partially turn. Then, before he can react or even think, she reaches behind him into his back pocket and plucks something out of it. “You...didn’t notice when I put it there?”

Nicolo isn’t sure how to tell her that he was too distracted by her other behavior (and the close proximity of her body) to realize what else she had been doing. It’s a small piece of paper, folded over once. It makes sense that he wouldn’t feel it in his pocket. “No,” he says finally, when Sasha’s face starts to morph into a confused and apprehensive expression. He turns fully toward her and reaches to take the note, but she moves it behind her back so he can’t grab it. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not important now.” She gives him one of her bright smiles, eyes sparkling. “It’s just a...suggestion,” she continues, stepping back into his personal space and looking up at him through her eyelashes, “that we spend some time...alone.” The light in her eyes gives great effect to her words. The moment is broken when she wiggles her eyebrows at him.

He can’t help the sigh the huffs out; still, he smiles and puts his arms around her waist to draw her closer. “All right, we’re alone.” He intends to continue with something suave, perhaps. She cuts him off by putting her arms around his neck, rocking up on her toes, and kissing him.

It's not the first time they've kissed - not even close - yet he can't help but marvel at how sweet she tastes. The first time, Nicolo was flustered and ended up accusing her of stealing candy, his entire face a bright red. This somehow led to Sasha crying about everyone hiding things from her and him sneaking her a handful of candy and other sweet things from the Military Police's stash every day until he was caught. He didn’t even mind the punishment he received; the look on her face each time made it all worth it.

But this kiss is different:  it's not quick and situated behind a closed door. There's time. A thought rattles at the back of his head, trying to remind him of something that he should be remembering. It stays banished from the forefront of his mind when Sasha presses closer and hums a happy noise into his mouth.

When she pulls back, he tries to follow. She tips her head to the side so he kisses her cheek. He leans back to look at her, confused. She’s still smiling. She withdraws a hand to pinch his cheek between two knuckles. “You’re so cute,” she murmurs. “I can always feel your blush because your cheeks get so warm.”

Sasha teases him about this all the time, enough that he no longer responds to it. Instead, Nicolo reaches up to cup her cheek, drawing his thumb over the pink that also stains her face. It goes over the bridge of her nose, muting the freckles there but not completely covering them up. She leans into the hand, her eyes falling closed as he takes her in. It’s a nice feeling, warm and comfortable:  like nothing else matters but this moment. He slides his hand around to hold the back of her head, inadvertently pulling some of her hair out of her ponytail. She wrinkles her nose and opens her eyes, about to complain but stopping. She must see something in his eyes:  or maybe she can read his thoughts in that moment.

“Oh,” she says, a soft, almost curious noise. He doesn’t have time to parse its meaning or the emotion behind it because she kisses him again. She’s more insistent now, parting her lips and running her tongue along his bottom lip. He can tell she has little experience in the art of kissing, but she’s earnest and right now he wants.

Nicolo’s arms wrap around her waist, trying to pull her somehow closer. She’s so warm against his front, making little noises in her throat that intoxicate him as the kiss deepens. The edge of the counter bites into his lower back as he momentarily gets knocked off balance by her eagerness. Sasha giggles breathlessly and murmurs "Sorry" against his lips.

Her hands fist in the material of his uniform as they kiss and kiss. Words bubble up in his throat as he breaks away to take a breath. He stifles them in her throat, reveling in the way she tilts her head back and makes a low noise that gets cut off. He pulls back to see her lip between her teeth, eyes shut, expression soft and content and tense at once. He makes a decision without thinking about it and uses his arms to lift her in the air. Her eyes fly open and she makes a noise that gets bitten off by her teeth sinking into her lip again.

“What are you -” she starts, looking at him with wide eyes, flushed cheeks, red, red lips. He turns them around and sets her on the counter with care. He presses their lips together before she can speak:  but he can tell she doesn’t need an explanation. She lets go of his shoulders to grab handfuls of her skirt and tug it upward, parting her legs enough for him to press between them. She’s perched on the edge, wobbling a bit when she reaches for him. He brackets her waist with his hands, holding her steady and feeling the mix of softness in her sides and hardness of muscle under the pads of his thumbs.

Sasha’s hand fists in his hair and tugs on it to pull him back. Nicolo again worries that he’s misread the moment and that she doesn’t want this, wants him to get away, but then - then she sinks her teeth into skin between his neck and shoulder. She growls into his skin, sounding like an animal. He squeezes and she gasps and -

“Oh my fucking god,” Grior snaps, and they both freeze. “I should have known you weren’t sitting on your hands in here. Why did I volunteer to come back?” Nicolo looks over his shoulder to find Grior in the doorway, hand over his eyes. “Hurry up or finish up or whatever, I’m going to bed and I’m never covering for you again.” He storms off.

“What’s he talking about?” Sasha asks, looking at him with curiosity and concern. He steps back and helps her to stand.

“Curfew. I knew I was forgetting something.”

“Oh.” The corners of her mouth turn down, her expression turning so sad that his stomach lurches. “I should probably get back, too.” She glances out the window:  it’s still as dark as it was when she arrived.

“Yeah,” he says. Neither of them move. He kisses her forehead. She tips her head up to catch his lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” It’s a promise, one that they both know she’ll be able to keep. She smiles, bright once more, and disappears into the darkness of the hall.

The plates, he realizes, are still on the counter. He lifts them with shaking hands and almost drops them before giving up and leaving. He presses his hand to his still-warm face and can’t stop the smile that blossoms. Grior is going to be even more of an asshole now, he’s sure, but Nicolo can’t find it in himself to care at all.

[corallilac0101102]

Lukanette #2

This is part 2 of 'First meeting'. I wanted them to go together, so don't yell at me. This gonna be in Luka's point of view and it's taking place about ten minutes after he walked away.

Luka looked at his left hand. It felt weird without his string. He was glad that he met Marinette but, it doesn't change the fact his ring finger felt strange. It also looked weird. Ivan called him for a mic check. Luka grabbed his guitar and headed on stage. Once he was ready, they started to play. Something was off. Luka didn't know if it was the music or, the fact that he didn't have the pressure of his string around his arm. When he had his string, it would get in the way when he played his guitar so, he would wrap it around his arm like a snake and throw the end over his left shoulder. But, now he didn't have to do that. He looked out into the cafe as more people came in. His eye drifted towards where Marinette was supposed to be, but, she wasn't there. Luka could see her bag was still there so, she must still be in the cafe. The sound of a high pitched ringing snapped him out his thoughts.

"And that's why we do a mic check ladies and gentlemen. I'm sorry you had to hear that." Rose said as a tech guy came and fiddled around with the microphone. Luka turned to Juleka.

"Hey, do you have a hair tie?"

"No. Why do you need one?"

"I just do." He didn't want to tell her about Marinette just yet, and he needs the hair tie to wrap around his ring finger to help with the lack of wight from his string. Juleka just shrugged. Luka sighed and turned to go back to his place on stage. But Marinette caught his attention as she walked with (what Luka guessed) was a coffee in hand. Then a light bulb went off in his head. He pulled his guitar over him and placed it on the stage then jumped off. Ivan yelled for him but Luka ignored him. He walked over to Marinette. Her hair was still in a ponytail, and that means she might have an extra hair tie he could barrow. Just as Marinette sat down, Luka sat across her. She looked up and gave a confused smile.

"Aren't you supposed to be on stage right now?"

"Yeah but, I have a favor to ask."

"Um, ok. What is it?"

"Do you have an extra hair tie I could barrow?" Luka blushed a little while he asked. Marinette gave him a confused look.

"Why?" She asked. Not in a judgemental way, just pure curiosity. Luka looked at his hands and fidgeted with them, and blushed as he answered her,

"I'm used to playing my guitar with my string wrapped around my arm and the wight from it on my finger. Now that I met you, my string's gone and it's throwing me off." He looked up at her.

"Not that I would change meeting you! It's just," He sighed.

"It comforted me while I was on stage. So, I'd like a hair tie to wrap around my finger to fill in for lack of wight." Marinette gave him an assured smile. Luka's eye followed her hands as she pulled out the hair tie holding her hair up. Her hair fell on her shoulders and she ran her finger's through her it to brush it out a little. She looked beautiful in Lukas's eyes. She looked up at him and smiled.

"Here." She handed over her hair tie to him. Luka took it and wrapped it around his finger. It was a little bulky but, it would do. He blushed again when he looked back her.

"Thank you. I'll give it back after the show."

"No need. But, may I suggest getting a ring? It may help and it won't stand out as much."

"That's a good idea. I'll probably do that tomorrow." They both laughed. Luka heard rose call him back. He sighed and stood up.

"Thank you again, Marinette."

"Your welcome." She gave him a soft smile that comforted him. Luka turned to walk away. As he walked, he suddenly felt a hand grab his own. He turned and saw Marinette holding something.

"Hold on. I can help you even more if you'd like." She held up her hand. "I have a red ribbon I use to tie my hair up in sometimes. I thought I could wrap it around your arm, just like how you used to with our string." Luka stared dumbfounded. This girl was too kind. He turned to the stage and yelled, "Hold on!" and took Marinette's up on her offer. They moved to the side of the room, so servers could walkabout. Marinette was about to wrap it around his leather Jacket when he stopped her. She looked at him confused. He laughed and took off his jacket to reveal a long-sleeved black shirt. Marinette blushed.

"I thought you were wearing a t-shirt."

"Nope. This place can get pretty cold with the air conditioner." Marinette giggled, and opened a safety pin and pinned the ribbon to his shirt. She slowly started to wrap the rest around his arm. Luka watched as she got to work. He noticed her nose scrunched up. 'She must be constraining.' he thought. She looked cute. Marinette walked around him and pinned the last bit of ribbon on the top back of his shirt.

"There, how's that? Not too tight right?" Luka moved his arm and pretend to play an air guitar. It felt just like how it did when his string was wrapped around him. He looked at Marinette with amazement.

"This is perfect! It's not too tight either. Thanks!"

"Your welcome. Every time I had to sew, I did the same thing." So, that's why she had safety pins, she a seamstress. From what Luka learned in movies, they always are prepared for a fashion emergency. He took a mental note to ask her about her sewing later. He could hear Rose call him again. He thanked Marinette again, and put his jacket back on and ran off to the stage. Rose, Ivan, and Juleka all gave him irritated looks. He shrank a little and apologized.

"It won't happen again."

"It better not!" Rose said. He laughed and they continued with there mic check. After everything checked out, they were ready to start there mini-concert. Luka knew it was just a show in a cafe, but it made him feel like a professional when he said it was a "mini-concert" and It was Marinette's first time watching his "mini-concert". He never got nervous but, he didn't want to mess up this performance. Rose gathered everyone's attention and announced the band and its members. Luka waved when rose called his name. Rose then said the name of the first song and the show began. Luka could feel Marinette's ribbon around his arm as he played, it gave him comfort. As their show came to an end, Luka walked in the middle of the stage and announced he was going slow thing's down a little.

"For this last song, were going to do a cover of 'Tides' by RELIC."

Luka took a deep breath and nodded towards Ivan. He began drumming and Luka joined him. Luka didn't sing in front of people. He lost a bet with Ivan, that was the only reason he was singing tonight. As he sang, he looked out into the crowd. Some swang/bopped their head to the music, or some tap either there foot or finger. He turned to Marinette and smiled. She was doing all four. Her smile was bright and soft. Her body was intuned to the music and it moved right along with it. He was slowly beginning to understand why she was his soulmate. After the song was over, the entire band thanked the crowd for listing and walked off stage. Luka put his guitar in his case and unwrapped Marinette's ribbon. Well, he tried. Luka found it was hard to open a safety pin on your back with one hand. He gave up. He'd just have to ask Marinette to take it off. As Luka walked out, he saw her standing to wait for him. He smiled and walked up to her.

"Hey." Marinette jumped a little. She turned to look at him and smiled.

"That was amazing! Your guy's music is incredible. I can't believe I didn't know about you guys before."

"I'm not surprised. Were playing around right now, getting the feel of performing in front of people. By this time next year, we hope to release an album."

"I hope you do! I'd listen to it while I sew or get ready for my day." Luka laughed. She looked really cute when she got excited.

"Oh, could you help me? I can't seem to get your ribbon off." Luka turned around and showed Marinette her ribbon just hanging there. She laughed.

"Sure." She stepped forward and Marinette got to work.

"You sounded incredible when you sang that last song." She said without looking at him. She was too busy unpinning. Luka blushed yet again. This girl has already made him blush more time in one day than he can count.

"Thanks. I'm not a singer though. I lost a bet."

"Well, you should reconsider that. Your voice is very calming, perfect for that song." Marinette stepped back. "All done." Luka turned around and rolled his shoulder's. He untied Marinette's hairband gave it back.

"No, keep till the next time we see each other."

"Why?"

"It's a promise to see each other again. It's my favorite so, take good care of it." Luka nodded.

"Are you hungry? Because I know a great ice cream shop if you'd like."

"Sure, I'd love that." There it was, the bright, soft smile she was so good at. It warmed him to see it. Luka said good-bye to his fellow band members and headed out with Marinette. The ice cream shop was about a twenty-minute walk away from the cafe. When they entered, Luka noticed how busy it was. "I guess 7:30 is the time to get ice cream." He said. He noticed a small table in the back and ran to it. He turned and waved at Marinette, beckoning her to come. She walked over.

"How did you see this? It's in the back."

"A benefit to being tall." They both laughed and walked over to order their ice cream. Marinette got two scoops of lavender, and Luka got two scoops of thyme ice cream. They sat and talked for about an hour. Marinette sighed and said,

"As much as I'd love to keep talking, I need to get home." She went into her purse and pulled out a sticky note pad and wrote down something. "Here." She pulled it off and gave it to Luka.

"My number as promised." She stood up and gathered her belongings. Luka stood up as well.

"I didn't even realize how late it got. I had a lot of fun talking with you though."

"I did too. We'll have to do it again."

"Yeah." They walked out and parted ways. Luka was excited about what the future had in store for him.

Those Ice cream flavors are a real thing in France, I did my research. I hope you like my little two-part story.