#we shall see if this works when i go to print more later tonight

[ensorskulledbindery]

I have attained a beast!! First ever laser printer (and a color printer as well, woo!!)

Bad news: after only printing 3 signatures, she has already given me an alignment issue...

I have gifted her this {BITE} sticker to hopefully appease her crave for choosing violence

[ibis-gt]

I honestly would love to read about the first time Cam finds out Luther is shrinking because he has feelings for him. In that hanahaki disease au.

ask and ye shall receive.... cam figures it out. just shy of 2000 words.

~~~

“Aaaand… there,” Cam said, and gave the screwdriver one final twist. He pulled on the little contraption in front of him a few times to test its stability and sat back on his haunches, finally satisfied. “You’re all set.”

It is one of four little rope and pulley elevator systems that he’d set up around Luther’s apartment. It consisted of a small wooden plank that Luther could stand on and use the rope system to raise or lower himself. Each one was operable at height ranges between about a foot and a half to four inches. They let him get up onto his sofa, his bed, the kitchen counter, and the bathroom sink.

“You really didn’t have to do all that,” Luther protested from his position just behind Cam. “I mean, I don’t get that small that often, I probably won’t use them that much.”

Cam laughed and pushed a stray wisp of hair out of his face, looking up at Luther. “What are you talking about? You’re always shrinking around me. It’s okay, I’m happy to help. That’s what friends are for.” He watched the usual blush spread across Luther’s face, the telltale shiver run down his spine, and smiled as Luther shrank another inch. He’d lost some height here and there during the installation process as they chatted, and had gone down to about five foot even, if Cam had to guess. “Anyway, you let me know if you have any trouble with these, and I’ll be over to fix ‘em as soon as I can. And there’s the bells if you’re in any real trouble - those strings there, see? They’re hooked up to a bell in my apartment, ring that and I’ll come right over.”

“My cat’ll have a field day with them,” Luther murmured, brow furrowing. “Maybe we should do something other than string.”

Cam chewed on the end of his screwdriver in contemplation. “Hm. Good point. I’ll figure something out later.” He slipped the screwdriver in his toolbelt and slapped his hands on thighs as he stood up. “Well! I’d better get back to my place and start dinner. You’re coming over, right?”

“Oh! As long as it’s not an imposition? I mean, I don’t want to be any trouble…”

“Nah, s’alright, you’re always welcome. Spaghetti and meatballs tonight. See you in an hour?”

Luther’s blush deepened and he lost another two inches. “S-see you then,” he managed.

Cam chuckled fondly to himself as he left. He tried not to think of Luther’s condition as cute or funny, because when the shrinking was really bad it put the poor guy in danger. But he couldn’t help but find it amusing when Luther lost just a little height, ending up just a slightly shorter version of himself. And when he went on one of his long rambles and shrank a little bit at a time all throughout, it put Cam in mind of a deflating balloon, which was just too silly not to laugh at. And when he ended up really tiny, and he was just like a little doll, and fit so perfectly in the palm of Cam’s hand…

Cam shook his head to clear his thoughts. No, that was too far. He shouldn’t think like that, no doubt it was terrifying for Luther to be so small and vulnerable. He sighed as he shouldered his door open, hands full of leftover wood and string. He set them on the little table where he kept his keys by the door, then unbuckled his toolbelt and hung it on the coat rack, lost in thought.

He’d been puzzling over what caused Luther to shrink for a while now. Was it just at random? Was it like an allergic reaction, and some kind of food or environmental thing kicked it off? He had a brief vision of Luther sneezing and instantly shrinking down to bug size. No, knock it off, he chastised himself, not funny. A little funny. But don’t laugh at it.

Anyway, he hadn’t seen Luther ever sneeze when he shrank, so that probably wasn’t it. What were the symptoms? He’d make a list, that would help him narrow it down.

Cam slipped an apron over his head - one of the novelty ones his sister kept getting him, he didn’t bother to read the witty joke about buns printed on the front - and started on the dough for his spaghetti. Whenever possible, he liked to make things from scratch. Besides, having something to do with his hands let his mind work better. He worked the problem around in his mind just like he worked the dough in front of him, kneading it, pushing it around, looking at it from different angles.

So. What were the warning signs? Luther tended to get awkward and shy just before he shrank. He’d blush, stammer or trip over his words, either avoid eye contact or stare like he couldn’t look away, and of course the final sign was that signature shiver right before a loss of height. A lot of those symptoms could be attributed to anxiety as well - was that what triggered the shrinking, just whenever he was anxious? But that couldn’t be it, Luther had been anxious plenty of times without shrinking. Not to mention he worked a high-stress job, waiting tables at a local diner, and wouldn’t be able to make it through the day if anxiety made him shrink. So that wasn’t it.

Cam rolled the dough out flat and cut it into strips. He hung the fresh noodles up to dry and put water on to boil, then opened the fridge and pulled out the meatballs he’d shaped that morning.

His brain kept chugging along on the issue as he worked, hands going on automatic. He came back to the present long enough to taste the sauce he’d made, hem and haw, and add a little more garlic, then went right back to it. There was something tugging at the back of his mind, trying to get his attention, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.

A sound startled him out of his thoughts - the ringing of a bell.

“Shoot,” Cam hissed, dropping the sauce spoon. It clattered onto the stove and left little pools of sauce cooling on the glass surface. He’d deal with that later though, Luther needed him now. He switched the burners to low and headed for the door.

Luther’s door was locked, so he had to duck back inside his apartment to grab the spare key. He opened the door slowly and called out.

“Luther? Was that just the cat, or do you need me?” Cam scanned the room, looking for that distinctive neon green jumpsuit. It clashed horribly with everything, but it was useful for spotting him when he ended up tiny. Sure enough, there he was by the strings for the bell, waving an arm to get Cam’s attention. He was easy to spot, as far as things went, standing about a foot tall. Cam hurried over.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need help?” Cam took a knee in front of Luther and leaned in close, inspecting him for injuries. Luther took a step back, startled by the sudden rush of worry, and Cam made himself pull back as well. It had to be scary to have someone looming over you like that, he told himself, give him a little space.

“I-I’m fine,” Luther said. “I just… well, this happened, and now I can’t really open my door, so I was hoping you could give me a lift over for dinner? Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve used the bell. I could’ve texted you.”

The tension flooded out of Cam and he laughed in relief. “No, that’s fine, I just jumped to conclusions. I can give you a lift, sure.” He cupped his hands and held them out to Luther, who climbed on and settled in, sitting down with his legs crossed. Cam rose slowly, being careful not to jostle Luther, and began to amble back towards the door. A thought occurred to him.

“What did it?” Cam asked.

Luther looked up, startled. “What did what?”

‘“What made you shrink this time? I’ve been trying to work it out on my own and I’m just not getting it. There’s gotta be a common thread, right, you’re not just shrinking at random?”

Luther stared at him in open-mouthed shock, face growing steadily redder.

“I mean,” Cam continued, “if you were just shrinking at random, it’d be hard to hold down a job, y’know? Do you ever shrink at work? And anyway, didn’t you say - ” His eyes widened as that thing that had been nagging at him finally became clear. “You said you don’t shrink all the time! But you shrink pretty often whenever I’m around. Am I doing it, somehow?”

“No, no, no,” Luther said hurriedly, but Cam could feel him getting smaller.

“Oh, liar!” Cam chortled. “Nice try, Pinnochio, but I’m literally holding you right now. Is it actually me?”

“It’s - it’s not - not always?” Luther was practically cowering away from him now, and Cam realized he’d been a little harsh.

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry. Look, we don’t have to talk about it, okay? It’s your business, I shouldn’t’ve pried.”

“No, I… I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, it’s just… hard to say out loud, um…” Luther fidgeted with the collar of his jumpsuit, avoiding Cam’s eyes. He was red as a tomato, mouth drawn up in an adorable little pout, and so small and cute that Cam’s heart ached. Then it clicked.

“Oh. Is it me, like… because you like me?” Cam asked. “Like, you have a crush on me, is that it?”

Luther let out a sound like a tea kettle whistling, shrinking down at an alarming rate to only five inches tall. Cam couldn’t help himself. He laughed so hard he snorted. When he finally got a hold on himself again, the wounded look on Luther’s face sobered him instantly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but you don’t know how long I’ve been trying to work this out, and the answer’s been right in front of my face the whole time! I swear I’m laughing at myself, not at you. Anyway, you wanna go out sometime?”

Luther gaped up at him for a long moment. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out. Finally he shut his mouth and nodded furiously. Cam grinned.

“Or this could be like our first date, right? I’ll get some candles and dim the lights. We could even 'Lady and the Tramp' it with the spaghetti! Or - okay, okay, sorry, I’ll stop.” Luther had started to shrink again, and Cam didn’t want his cooking to go to waste just because his guest was too small to eat it. “Hey, I joke a lot, but I want you to know I’m being serious here,” he said gently. “I’d like to go out with you, if you’re alright with it. Is it going to cause problems, though? Like are you going to shrink every time we’re together?”

Luther shifted and looked away, finally finding his voice. “I - I don’t know. The doctor said if I told you about how I felt, it would get easier. But he didn’t say it would go away entirely… if that’s not something you want to put up with, we don’t have to - ”

“No, no, that’s fine, I don’t mind it. Just if it was a problem for you, is all. I like you a lot, Luther. I’d love to be your partner, if you’ll have me.”

Luther looked back up at Cam with a huge, genuine, relieved smile on his teeny tiny face. Cam’s heart melted.

“I’d like that.”

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Could a request a nsfw Office or Doctor AU for Geto x Reader? More so can't get the image of Geto in a well fit dress shirt out of my head. Like when he flexes 😤 I very much appreciate a nicely tailored suit on a man more than them being naked sometimes. The baggy clothes he wears does no justice

YES YOU MAY

Time and A Half: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

wc: 2k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

"It's time we merged with the Geto Corporation." The news brings your eyes away from your computer screen and to the woman standing in front of you.

"What?"

"We've already taken a vote," your mother admits, sitting in the leather chair across from you and crossing her legs. "And your brother voted for you in absentia since you were... away with your little friends."

"You couldn't have called me? I was at a wedding, mother!"

"In any case," She waves her hand, shaking her head. "Suguru, the CEO, will be coming to the office around two o'clock." You look down at your outfit, unsure if your slacks and plain dress shirt would suffice for a merger meeting. "Don't worry, I sent your assistant to go get a new dress for you. Can't have you showing up in your day clothes."

Three hours later, you're dressed in a houndstooth print dress, and waiting in the conference room with your mother, fiddling with your pen nervously.

"Mrs. L/n," your assistant announces as she walks in. "Mr. Geto and Mr. Gojo are here."

"Send them in," your mother answers, smiling her best "teeth out" grin. Two men enter the room, both insanely tall and almost model-esque. One man has startling blue eyes and white hair and is smiling at your mother as if he stole the cookies from the jar just before he entered the room. The other one is smiling as well, but his eyes and long hair are jet black, and he's more casually dressed than the other. You inhale sharply, facing down the ghost of someone you used to know, but pushing the recognition down and sticking out your hand to greet both men.

"Mr. Gojo," you turn first to the suited, white-haired man, who shifts his gaze to you.

"Ms. L/n, you look stunning," he croons, shaking your hand.

"Mr. Geto," you state, avoiding his piercing gaze as he takes your hand and brings it up to his lips. You flush, pressing your lips together as he whispers,

"Ms. L/n." You take a seat, chest red from the encounter, but not completely unnerved.

"Let's get started, shall we?"

_____________________________________________________________

You rush back to your office after the meeting, trying your best to keep your cool. But before you can close the door and be alone, a foot is inserted into the doorway.

"Can I borrow a sliver of your time?" Suguru wonders, standing in the doorway with his black eyes resting on your face. Much like that night...

"Sure," you offer, letting him inside and then shutting the door behind him. Suguru looks around your office, humming at the decor, then taking a seat across from you. "H-how can I help you?"

"Wanted to make sure you and I would be alright when it comes to working together considering our past."

"Oh, of course," you chirp, shifting papers around on your desk. "My company will be absorbed by yours, so you're calling all the shots, boss. Shouldn't be too unlike that evening we--"

"And I would hope you would come back to the club," he interrupts, standing. "I'd like to see you there. We had a wonderful time, and I'm sure that can be replicated."

"I... I don't really dabble in that anymore," you lie, biting your lip and looking down at your fingers.

"You came back that next night hoping to see me, and I'm sorry I wasn't there," Suguru whispers, leaning over your desk and getting closer to you. You stay put, eyes flicking from his lips to his eyes, unsure of what to do while your stomach twists into a knot. Fingers lift to touch your curls, one swirling around his finger as he stares at it longingly. "I haven't dommed anyone since the night I met you, y/n. This has to be fate; the universe bringing you back to me."

"I--"

"If not the club, then come to my place tonight. I'll take care of you, I promise."

_____________________________________________________________

"Should've made you my sub that night," Geto breathes across your skin, fondling your hips through your velvet dress. "Not seeing you for several months after that night has been hard..." You press into his lap, moaning involuntarily. "But I'll make up for the time lost if you'll let me."

Lips connect with your neck, and hands move to cup your breasts, massaging them gently. You tilt your head over, exposing more of your neck for Suguru to kiss, and leaning into his touch with desire.

"You have to consent, y/n," Suguru reminds you, and you nod, licking your lips. "I need to hear you."

"Yes," you murmur, and he hums softly, pushing you up to a standing position. You look back at him in curiosity, but he's unbuttoning his sleeves and pushing them up his muscled forearms. They stop at his elbows, and then he stands, flexing as he stretches.

"Undress and get on the bed, ass up." You follow instructions and leave your clothes in a pile, resting with your stomach on the plush comforter. Suguru comes up behind you, fingers probing at your entrance. "God, you're wet. And that pussy looks just as beautiful." thick fingers dip around in your slick, dancing across your clit before sliding into you with ease.

"Oh," you moan, coming off your stomach a little.

"You feel especially tight," Suguru murmurs, moving his finger back and forth gently. "Been a while since you last had someone cater to you, huh?"

"Yeah," you admit breathlessly. "Been so busy--"

"Don't lie," Suguru admonishes. "Seems like both of us had a mind-blowing time that night." He pushes another finger in, making you hiss in pleasure and buck your hips. "Y/n, you're so wet..."

You have to admit, the squelching sounds your cunt and his fingers are making are beyond blush-inducing. You feel as if he's busted the dam in your pussy, bringing out the side of you that's been dormant for some time and willing to tease you to the brink.

"You need this," he mumbles softly. You agree, but you can't really speak while you're being fingerfucked and your g-spot is being stroked deftly. You feel the urge to pee slowly become more pronounced, but you know this isn't really a problem. Suguru loved it when you squirted last time. You peer back at him over your shoulder, batting your eyelashes as he tilts his head, leaning into his hand that's inside of you. "Does that feel good?"

"Feels good," you echo, reaching a hand back to pull his other hand to action. "I want you so bad, Su..."

"In a minute," he promises, smoothing his free hand over your back. "You cum first."

"No," you whine. "Want to suck your cock while you make me cum." He huffs a laugh, then grabs one of your nipples.

"Never thought you'd be the one giving orders. But I'll oblige this once." He unbuckles his pants and slides them down his thighs, along with his underwear, then fists his half-hard cock, eyes drifting over your body lazily. "Come here, baby." You move a little to the left, facing his cock and reaching your hand out to grab his length and licking the tip gently. Suguru groans while you taste his pre-cum with excitement, sucking on his tip as his fingers increase their speed inside of you.

"Ah," Suguru moans, knees buckling slightly. "Just as good as I thought you'd be." You lick around his head and under the tip of his cock, making his free hand come up and cradle the back of your head. You remove your hand and bob your head on his cock eagerly, feeling your orgasm speed to its climax. You push your inner walls against his fingers as you begin to cum, and you squirt liberally on his fingers, down your thighs, on his bed.

"Fuck!" you cry out, closing your eyes and bucking against his palm. Suguru keeps fingering you and your pussy squirts out a little more than you expected, making him hum thoughtfully, then pull his fingers out and take off his shirt.

"Stay like that, baby." You pant against the bedsheets, clutching onto them as Suguru places his knee on the bed and shifts you closer to where he's kneeling on the soaked sheets. "Perfect. Spread your legs a little more."

You do so, and he rubs his cock up and down your soaked entrance lazily, his other set of fingers rubbing at your clit slowly. "Be good for me, and I'll give you exactly what you want, babe." You nod your head, and Suguru presses into you, making you flinch while he stretches you out, a hand pressing into your backside as he finds purchase and rocks into you.

"So good..." you whine, and he grunts, balls slapping your cunt.

"Remind me of the four pillars of a dom/sub relationship," Suguru states, and you try to recall all of the information quickly.

"Respect... trust... communication... honesty."

"Do I have your respect?" He delivers a blow to your ass, smoothing his hand over the spot as he awaits your answer.

"Yes," you breathe.

"Your trust?" Another smack.

"Yes."

"Can you communicate with me?" Smack.

"Yes, sir!"

"Can you be honest with me, even when it's hard?" Smack.

"Oh, god, yes!" You press your face into the sheets and moan, feeling the sting of the blows enhance your high, bringing you to a tipping point that isn't orgasmic in nature, but will instead bring you to a place you've been only twice in your life. "Sir, I feel it; I feel... I fee--" Your breathing slows, something in you surrenders completely, and you know in your mind you're there.

Subspace.

Your head begins to swim, and you feel Suguru adjust his grip on you, but no pain. Nothing is in your mind, the emptiness of it almost comforting, and you lean into the lack of sensation, mouth sliding open.

"Talk to me," Suguru pants, but you hum in response, no words forming in your head. When he realizes you're deep in subspace, he stops, pulling out and turning you over onto your back gently. After swiping the hair out of your face, he kisses your swollen lips, then glides back into you. "That's a good girl."

As he resumes his strokes, you stare up at him indolently, eyes roaming over his muscular figure and well-defined abs. You don't even realize your fingers are tracing them until he brings them up to his lips, kissing each finger with care. He places your hand on his chest and holds it there, leaning over you and beating a familiar pattern into your cunt. Long black hair falls over your face, obscuring your view from anything else while he kisses you again, pressing his entire frame into you.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers against your mouth, and you hum again, trying for a smile but only succeeding at turning one corner of your mouth up. "Oh, I'm gonna cum..."

"Please," you whisper and his eyes stare into yours, fingers tracing your cheek.

"Want me to cum in you?"

"Yes." Suguru's hips stutter - as if he had already anticipated your response - and he shudders, filling you with his cum, which feels like someone filling you up until you're past full. You stroke his cheeks while he pants, his last exhales bordering on cries of joy, and press small, sloppy kisses onto his chest and neck.

"I don't want to move," he admits, wrapping his arms around you and nestling his face into your neck. "I can't move."

"Then don't," you reply, stroking the dips and curves of his back tenderly. "You have me all to yourself."

"And I'll be sure to schedule a few after-work meetings for the two of us to discuss... business." You laugh a little, and Suguru places a kiss on your shoulder. "Just make sure you're free. I'll get the sub contract to you by Monday morning at eight o'clock."

"And you'll pick it up at...?"

"Eight-thirty. Have your assistant block off eight-thirty to nine-thirty. I have a feeling I might need to collect my first share of the company then."

[beatricethecat2]

"This is nice," Myka says, sipping her beer while surveying the bar.

"Consuming alcohol in a public house?" Helena asks.

"Yeah," Myka says, eyes angling down as she picks at her label. "Working with Pete...this wasn't a thing I could do much. Then Steve and I had a drink here, and I remembered what it was like. I used to go on my own in DC just to unwind. Feels like a lifetime ago."

“In many ways it was," Helena says, idly stiring the ice left in her drink. "Could you ever have imagined the company you now keep?"

"I don't think so," Myka says, shifting closer to Helena. "But I like it, a lot. Doing this with you feels...normal. Two people, spending time together, not a care in the world."

"You care for nought?" Helena says, fingers tracing a line from Myka's thumb to her wrist where her hand rests on her thigh.

"Ok, one care," Myka says, eyes flicking up to meet Helena's. "Hey, I know that look. We said we'd stay for the band tonight, not just hole up in our room."

"Is there not another band tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but we said we'd stay for this one." Myka slips her hand from Helena's.

"As you wish," Helena says, settling back on her stool, frustration evident in her tone.

"More drinks, ladies?" the bartender says. "The band's about to start."

"I shall need one," Helena grouses.

"Stop being dramatic," Myka snips.

"Fine," Helena snaps. "Bourbon. Neat. Top shelf, please," she instructs the bartender.

"Comin' right up." The bartender steps away to complete the order.

"Oh, we're getting drunk now, are we?" Myka quips.

"When in Rome..."

"I'd actually like to see that, a drunk H.G. Wells," Myka says, poking Helena in the arm.

Helena flinches. "You may very well if you keep behaving as such."

"Seriously though, when's the last time you drank enough to let your guard down, even a little."

"In the company of others? Not in recent memory. And you?"

"Same."

"Here you go," the bartender interrupts, setting the tumbler on a napkin in front of Helena. "Another beer?" she asks Myka.

"You know what? I'll have the same." Myka waves her bottle at Helena's drink.

"Cavalier, Ms. Bering."

"We'll keep each other in check. We deserve to get super tipsy, at least."

"Color me intrigued."

The band strikes its first cord just as Myka's drink arrives. She tugs Helena's arm, and they relocate to a table near the stage.

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

The Adventures of Bering and Wells ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 4 Title: New Orleans: Laissez les bon temps rouler!

Summary: Myka and Helena follow whim rather than duty, driving south, detouring around Washington DC, avoiding a second emotional rabbit hole so early on. After a wi-fi-free week in a cabin, deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains, they feel ready to tackle urban density again. ("The Rockies are better," Myka declares. "We'll go there, too.) Vowing to stay as touristy as possible, the pair head towards history-filled New Orleans. But far too soon their carefree trip hits a snag and they're in need of Warehouse help.

Previously: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3

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

***BONUS SCENE***

"Exactly how touristy have you been?" Abigail asks.

"Pretty touristy," Myka answers.

"Practically flâneurs," Helena says, grinning as Myka looks up at her with sparkly eyes.

"Well, that narrows it down," Steve mutters, typing into the keyboard. "Let's start with your hotel. Why'd you pick the carriage house?"

"The lack of adjoining suite and the king-sized bed."

"Helena!" Myka smacks Helena on the arm. "Because it's cute and charming."

"So this ghost isn't listed on their website? Wedding dress woman, Civil War soldier, dancing patio woman?" Steve asks.

"No. And the manager hadn't recognized the description I gave," Helena explains.

"So not all ghosts," Abigail says.

"If seeing them is normal," Myka says.

"Let's say the ones on their website are but H.G.'s isn't," Steve says.

"Are we to assume I've been 'whammied' then?" Helena says.

"You freeze in place. I have to shake you out of it," Myka explains.

"Perhaps I'm studying the phenomenon."

"You're never that still. It's creepy."

"Then I think we should consider it," Abigail says.

"Where else have you been?" Steve asks.

"Um, everywhere?" Myka answers. "That blacksmith's bar you and I went to. And The Gas and Lights Museum--"

"Such memories. So many details wrong," Helena gibes.

"On a carriage ride--"

"Highway robbery! Sixty-five dollars for a turn around the park. And not in the least authentic."

"You said it was nice!"

"I said it was familiar. The sound of it took me back," Helena says.

"I thought you'd like it." Myka leans back and looks up at Helena questioningly.

"I enjoyed the company quite thoroughly," Helena says, laying her hands on Myka's shoulders and grinning down at her fondly.

"Aww," Steve coos.

"Did anything about the carriage ride scream 'lady ghost will now appear at will?" Abigail asks.

"Not to my knowledge," Helena says.

"We also went to the Pharmacy Museum. And on a steamboat ride," Myka adds.

"Not that I'd have stepped foot on that death trap without proof of modern safety precautions. In my day, they exploded frequently," Helena explains.

"Ok...let's start with the Pharmacy Museum," Abigail says as Steve types. "Could this woman have afforded a doctor?"

"She often appears in her Sunday best, but also in, shall we say...less. She didn't strike me as particularly monied."

"Did she look sort of vampire-ish?" Steve asks. "I'm reading that people with consumption were rumored to be vampires due to how the disease aged them."

"I'm familiar with that premise, and no, this woman was not withering away."

"Could she have died on a steamboat?" Abigail asks.

"She doesn't give off that sense. There's a calm about her. She's not in danger."

"Let's try another angle. The neighborhood you're staying in, Storyville, claims to be the birthplace of jazz," Abigail says, reading over Steve's shoulder. "Maybe she's related to that?"

"Myka took me to hear this 'jazz,' and I can't say I was at all impressed."

"I like it. Steve does, too. You really hated it?" Myka asks.

"The bleat of the saxophone evokes vaudeville for me."

"Play her some Charlie Parker. Or John Coltrane. That might change her mind," Steve suggests.

"Does this relate to our ghost?" Abigail presses.

"I don't see a connection," Helena answers. "Her dress is previous to that of jazz, of an age closer to my own."

"Storyville was once a legal bordello district," Steve explains. "The whole neighborhood was shut down in 1917. So maybe she's from then?"

"That makes sense," Myka says.

"Do you see her inside or outside?" Abigail asks.

"Thus far, outside."

"But," Myka protests, "last night, when we were...t-the blindfold, you said 'just in case.'"

"Did that not heighten our activities?"

"That's not the point. I can't believe you--"

"Punish me later, darling--"

"Why don't you two hash this out, and we'll get back to you," Abigail suggests.

"Wait, is this her?" Steve asks.

Steve shares a black and white photo of a woman, seated outdoors, in front of a makeshift white backdrop, her hair styled into a modest, shoulder-length coif. Her linen top, trimmed with lace, hangs off one shoulder, and a string of pearls adorns her neck. Her lipstick, rendered as a middle grey, matches the kohl lining her eyes, giving her a soft, silent movie-era look.

"Hm, possibly."

"Here's another."

Helena leans further over Myka's shoulder, looking closely at the image. "Yes, I believe that is her."

"That's, um, really off the shoulder. Shoulders..." Myka says. "Isn't that kind of racy for the time?"

"Quite tame compared to some. Her expression is unusual, contemplative almost, recalling solemn greek statues rather than the usual fodder meant to titillate men's desires."

"How would you know?"

"One encounters all sorts of materials as a Warehouse agent," Helena says with a smirk.

"As an agent. Uh-huh."

"Listen to this," Steve interrupts, "these prints were made from a stash of glass negatives found locked in a desk drawer years after the photographer died. Many are of Adele, the woman you're seeing, but there are other women, too. They were shot in the 1910s, but these prints were made in the '60s. If there were any original prints, they were never found."

"May I see the images again?"

Steve cycles through and adds a few more, one depicting a roll-down desk with a shrine of photos arranged above, all of women, vignetted portraits and romantic depictions of the female form more typical for the time.

"Not sure if that last one is related. But it says it's by the same photographer."

"Could you send that one over? I'd like to look more closely."

"Sure."

Myka trades places with Helena, and Helena clicks the link. She enlarges the photo and inspects the array of images.

"I vaguely recall flicking through a basket in a shop with ephemera such as this. Perhaps this ghost woman was amongst it, but printed in a manner such as the images depicted here."

"So you're saying the photo in the shop might be a photo from this photo?"

"That is what I'm hypothesizing."

"So when you see her, you freeze like you're her photograph trapped in this photograph."

"Or perhaps I am her, caught in the decisive moment of the image being captured."

"That's really meta," Steve says.

"No matter what, neutralizing that photo should do the trick," Abigail suggests. "Heck, neutralize everything in the basket, just in case."

"Do you remember which shop you were in?" Steve asks.

"My recollection is hazy at best due to the copious amount of drink someone encouraged me to consume the evening previously."

Helena looks at Myka and scowls. Myka looks back, endearingly.

"I don't get hangovers."

"Lucky you," Helena quips.

"I hope you find it soon," Steve says, "because being happy looks good on both of you. You should get back to that."

"Thank you, Steve. And thank you, Abigail, for all your help," Helena says.

"Anytime," Abigail says.

"Have a great trip. Send some postcards!" Steve says.

"What a marvelous idea," Helena replies.

"Isn't flicking through postcards how we got here?" Myka warns.

"Shall you pre-screen everything I touch from now on?"

"Maybe I should--"

"We're hanging up now," Abigail says.

The screen goes blank as Myka and Helena devlove further into playful bickering.

*End Scene*

-TBC-

NOTES: "Laissez les bon temps rouler!" is Cajun French for "Let the good times roll." In season four, Steve and Myka go New Orleans and both say they like jazz, so I'm not making that up. I see Myka as more of fan of popular tunes - Billy Holiday, Duke Ellington, Nat King Cole, etc., whereas Steve would know the genre through and through (and try as he might, never gets Claudia quite on board with it all). The photographer is E. J. Bellocq - I was going to incorporate that more, but the politics behind photos I mentioned is...complicated. I want this B&W show to focus on our ladies journey, artifacts are side-plot motivations. But if you're interested, look him up, and I suggest reading both Susan Sontag and Nan Goldin's essays for some clarity on why the images hold the status they do. From the research I've done, his images are plastered all over Storyville businesses, so if you've been there, you've seen at least one. Oh and I had a roommate once who could drink anything and never got a hangover. Some people are lucky like that.

[earthfire-75]

Kashmir

Chapter One, Part One: Kashmir (The Trick is to Keep Breathing)

Author’s notes: co-written with @nature-and-music, beta-ed by @lady-jane-revisited

I had fallen asleep listening to KIashmir as I fell asleep. It was all I could think about after that strange woman had told me that I would find myself in a distant place, that I would hold the fate of three hearts in my hands. I tried not to think about it much, but as the day grew later, that was proving more and more difficult, until I finally fell asleep.

I had no idea how right that woman was and I wondered if she was psychic.

I woke in an alley, laying flat on my back and I felt like I wanted to scream. I didn’t know why it even fazed me anymore. Three, three times now… Did the universe hate me that much? Who was I going to meet that I would get my heart broken over this time? Who knows, maybe I wouldn’t this time, but I was not holding my breath. In both previous times I had found myself in a different universe than my own, that was exactly what had happened. I fell in love and just as I was ready to accept that I wasn’t going anywhere, the universe had other plans.

I picked myself up from the ground and found I wasn’t far from the mouth of the alley. Dusting myself off, I sighed as I noticed my already threadbare Zeppelin shirt now had a couple of tears in it, I headed out of the alley. I wasn’t paying as much attention to my surroundings as I should have been, trying to just keep my head down and find a place to stay and worry about everything else in the morning. But I ran into someone as I rounded the corner. I quickly apologized, but the person had my arms in a gentle hold.

“Are you alright, love?”

The familiar-ish English accent made me look up. Holy crap! Jimmy fucking Page! He chuckled at me, letting go of my arms.

“While it’s good to be recognized, I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

“Dear God, I said that out loud… sorry. I’m Anjelika,” I replied, my heart starting to slow down.

He chuckled again, smiling at me. “It’s quite alright, love. Come to the studio with me, at least get you a new shirt.” He tilted his head as he took a better look at the shirt I was wearing. “I see you’re a fan, but I don’t recognize this design.”

Shit! “I, uh...made it myself. One of my many talents.”

“Ah. Well, shall we?” He asked, gesturing to a building a little further down the street. I nodded and we walked together in silence, feeling Jimmy’s eyes on me now and then, until we reached the building. He opened the door for me and followed me in. “Straight down the hall and the first door on the left will take you to G’s office. You can wait there while I find you a clean shirt.”

“G?” I asked half distractedly. I was busy taking in my surroundings in awe when I heard Jimmy chuckle. “What?”

“Nothing,” he chuckled again. “G is our manager, Peter Grant. He looks intimidating, and I admit, he can be when needed. But for the most part, he’s just a giant teddy bear.”

“Alright. I’ll see you there, yeah?”

“Yes. G might already be in his office, I’ll go with you to make an introduction. The rest of the band should be showing up soon as well.”

I nodded and headed down the hall to the first door on the left, as instructed. As I entered, sure enough there was a large man sitting at the desk in the middle of the room. The man I assumed was “G” looked up at me with a confused expression until Jimmy came in behind me.

“Jimmy! You’re early and I see you’ve brought a guest. Welcome, miss!”

“Please, call me Anjelika.”

“Morning, G! I came across this poor girl about a block away. Offered to get her a clean shirt at the least. I’m going to go find one, figured she’d be safe with you. Just keep Robert away from her.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible, but I can try.”

After that exchange, Jimmy left to find a clean shirt as promised. I started to look around the office, a bit fascinated by all the gold records. As I look around, Peter silently takes stock of me. The man towers over me, though I’m of average height.

“Anjelika?” He called to me, getting my attention. I turned to face the large man again, humming in acknowledgement.

“Forgive me saying, but you look like a sturdy woman. If you’re interested, we have an opening for a roadie. Specifically, someone who knows their guitars.”

“Well, I’m far from an expert, but my dad taught me quite a bit growing up. I know how to tune and play acoustic, electric and bass guitars. As for my interest, how about an enthusiastic hell yes!?” I wouldn’t mention that it was basically a lifelong dream, plus, this took care of how I was going to live while here.

Peter’s face lit up with a bright smile and stuck his hand out to me. “Welcome to the crazy life we call Rock n’ Roll!”

I laughed and took Peter’s hand to shake it, but before I could respond, another voice came from the doorway. “Did I hear right? You found the last roadie we need?” The accent was light and soft even in excitement. It was that and the feeling of another of my kind present that made me turn toward the door. There stood Robert Plant, John Paul Jones and John Bonham, a.k.a. Bonzo, who seemed to be eyeing me. Robert was as well, but their expressions were quite different. Bonzo was curious, if a little cautious, Robert had a clear interest in me, like a lion sizing up its prey.

I smiled to myself as I observed each of them. Bonzo’s cautiousness was a little surprising, but everything else about them was everything I had heard.

“Yes,” Peter replied. “Jimmy brought her in, but yes, I asked her if she would be interested in the job and she accepted. Anjelika, meet Robert Plant, John Paul Jones and John Bonham. Boys, meet Anjelika.”

John Paul was the first to step forward. “I trust Peter’s judgment, but have you ever played guitar before?”

“I have, granted, it’s been a few years, but I think I remember a thing or two.” I responded with confidence.

“Don’t worry Jonesy,” Peter said. “I’m sure Jimmy will want to test her skills.”

“Who’s skills will I want to test?” Jimmy asked as he came back with a clean shirt, walking in and handing said shirt to me.

I took the shirt, my cheeks burning in embarrassment. “Mine, apparently. Mr. Grant offered me a job.”

“Well then, what are we waiting for? There’s a party tonight and the American leg of the tour starts tomorrow.” He announces and starts back out the door.

“Tomorrow?! That’s cutting it a bit close, don’t you think?”

Robert approached now, taking my hands in his. “Sometimes that’s just how it works out. If you need anything let us know, for now, we should join Jimmy in the studio.”

I nodded , slowly pulling my hands out of Robert’s and followed Jimmy until we reached a recording room. “Alright, let’s see what you can do, love.”

Without a word, I picked up the acoustic guitar and tuned it with ease, then I did the same with the two electric guitars. Finally, I turned to the bass guitar and tuned it, but I didn’t stop there. Something in me needed to sing too, to show them all of the talent I had to offer. Even if the song wasn’t my own. I stood up, pulled the guitar strap over my head, and stepped in front of the microphone.

I began a strong bass line and then, feeling a combination of nervousness and excitement , I began to sing.

“She’s not the kind of girl

Who likes to tell the world

About the way she feels about herself.

She takes a little time

In making up her mind

She doesn’t want to fight against the tide.

Lately, I’m not the only one

I say never trust anyone

Always the one who has to drag her down

Maybe you’ll get what you want this time around.

Can’t bare to face the truth

So sick you can not move

And when it hurts

He takes it out on you.

Lately, I’m not the only one

I say never trust anyone

Always the one who has to drag her down

Maybe you’ll get what you want this time around.

The trick is to Keep Breathing.”

I was about to continue when I saw five shocked faces looking back at me. Jimmy seemed to recover faster than the rest, Robert soon after. “Oh, we’re keeping her,” The singer announced.

Jimmy shook his head at his friend. “She’s not a pet, Rob. But yes, I think she’ll do nicely for the job.” He turned his attention once more to me. “Congratulations, you’re hired!”

I couldn’t help myself as I did a little dance before setting the bass back in its place and rejoined the others. In my joy, I ran up and hugged Jimmy and then Peter. “Thank you! But, if you all don’t mind, I’d really like to change my shirt now.”

“I’ll show you to the bathrooms.” It was Bonzo who spoke now, holding out his arm like a gentleman for me to take.

As we walked down the hallway, my eyes wandered at the sight before me. The studio environment was unlike what I had ever seen, the space was brimming with creativity as the sounds of instruments filled my ears. I could have only imagined what sorts of sounds would materialize here within these walls.

My attention was brought back when Bonzo spoke to me, “‘Ere you are Anjelika, love. I’ll wait for you out here since the studio is a bit big and well it’s your first day.”

“Thank you,” I said with a smile.

I looked at myself in the mirror after replacing my shirt. The material fit snugly against my torso and the design was so colorful with the band’s logo printed in bold letters that practically jumped off of the garment. Aside from admiring the clothing, I couldn’t help but stare at the woman looking back at me with a sense of wonderment and confusion. A new life was about to begin for me: accomodations taken care of, decent pay, and an opportunity to work alongside one of the biggest, if not the biggest, bands in the world right now. I felt happy and yet, something was lingering inside of me. Doubt? Worry? I was jolted from my thought process by the sound of hard knocking.

Bonzo’s voice was muffled, “Everything alright?”

“Coming,” I answered back.

Jonesy was fiddling with a mandolin when we returned to the recording space. Long fingers turning the tuning keys as his other hand made use of the strings. Jimmy was beside Grant going over the business aspect of the tour and Robert was occupied with his novel.

Bonzo leaned over the lanky singer, “How goes the little fellowship Percy? Are they about to fight a dragon again?”

Robert’s eyebrows quirked from over the pages, “Wrong book there Bonzo, this is the one where they venture out to destroy the One Ring. That is until everything goes wrong for the group-”

Jonesy butted in with a chuckle, “What is this, the tenth time you read the book this week?”

“Sod off,” Robert replied, “Just because you don’t find it interesting, doesn’t mean it’s a bad story.”

I glanced over and saw that he was reading The Fellowship of the Ring by Tolkien, a favorite of his judging by the tone in his voice, “What part are you on now? Have they just left Rivendell?”

Robert’s eyes lit up as he put his book down for a moment, “Yes, they have actually. You’ve read Fellowship?”

I smiled, “All of them, including The Hobbit.”

“Looks like you’ll have someone to talk nerd with you Percy,” Bonzo chortled as he grabbed his drumsticks.

Grant cleared his throat, “Alright settle down everyone, come on you lot have more to record. Bonzo get in there.”

Like an excited schoolboy, the man rushed in and made himself comfortable at the drum kit. Lightning fast reflexes created the thunderous booming of his instrument. I thought the glass was going to shatter from the sheer force of his playing alone. To hear him through headphones was one thing, but to actually see the man at work was something else entirely. He was like a beast letting out everything within himself, the raw power echoing from the percussion instruments. He was swift in his ability to move from one part of his set to the next, his fists holding on tightly to his drum sticks as he went from cymbal to snare to Tom. His footwork on pedals was quick as his entire body followed a musical rhythm.

As the boys began to record their song, Peter approached me once again, sitting in the chair beside me. “You know, what Percy said earlier…if you need anything, just ask. I know this was a bit sprung on you.”

I smiled a little and nodded. “Literally everything I own right now, I’m wearing. And technically, the shirt is borrowed.”

“Nah, you keep it. We can provide you with some shirts that were made for the tour. They’re for the roadies. As for anything else you might need, I can give you a small advance on your pay.”

“I…don’t know what to say. Thank you!”

He patted my hand and stood up. “It’s no problem at all, love. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” He left the room and I turned my attention to the boys. I recognized the song and couldn’t help but sing along from my side of the room.

“It is the springtime of my loving

The second season I am to know

You are the sunlight in my growing

So little warmth I've felt before

It isn't hard to feel me glowing

I watched the fire that grew so low, oh

It is the summer of my smiles

Flee from me, keepers of the gloom

Speak to me only with your eyes

It is to you, I give this tune

Ain't so hard to recognize, oh

These things are clear to all from time to time, ooh”

I had to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. I did not need Robert, or any of them really, to see me cry. Peter returned shortly after and handed me $100. I was in a bit of a shock, to say the least. “This is too much,” I said.

“Nonsense. Get yourself what you need, maybe a couple of dresses for after-parties. Anything left, consider it to be spending money.”

“Thank you, again, Mr. Grant.”

“Please, call me Peter. Or G, if you prefer.”

“Alright,” I smiled up at him, “thank you, G.”

The boys finished up the song and Peter stopped the recording. “I think you boys got it this time.”

“What did you think of it, Anjelika?” Robert asked, sounding a little shy.

“You all did wonderfully, it’s beautiful.”

Robert beamed like a ray of sunshine and the others seemed to approve of my opinion as well. Setting their instruments down and joined Peter and I on the other side of the studio.

“The party starts in a couple of hours, love. You should probably get your shopping done, there won’t be time for it tomorrow. I’m sure one of the boys will be happy to go with you, New York is a large city.”

“A guide seems like a good idea, especially since this is my first time in New York.” I turned to the boys only to see four sets of eyes looking imploringly at me. It seemed they all wanted to get out for a little while. I chuckled and shook my head. “You all look like lost puppies. Come on, let’s go. Robert, you can be my fashion consultant.”

Jonesy laughed. “You’ll regret that.”

“At least she didn’t give the job to Jimmy,” Bonzo laughed back.

Jonesy raised his hands up, “Fair point.”

“Oi!”

* * *

The city of New York was truly the picturesque place of all that was new and grand, while simultaneously being the same location that would change its image once the sun began to set. While not exactly a local and there was still a fair amount of daylight left, Robert insisted that I should stay close to him

“It’s a short walk from here, come on.”

“Robert, I think I’ll be okay. Besides, we'll go in and find a couple of dresses, some jeans and such. Shouldn’t be that hard,” I noted.

Sure enough, we made it to the boutique in no time. The place had all manner of outfits that were either displayed on their mannequins or hung from the racks. A number of the garments seemed to appeal more to the current generation with its float patterns, striped pants, button up blouses and skirts, big collared shirts, sweater vests, and corduroy suits. The shoes were something to marvel at as well. Robert had a big smile across his face and was about head to the nearest rack, that is until I cleared my throat.

“Right, dresses, sorry love.”

I raised a brow with a smirk, “It’s fine, I just have no clue where to start… Excuse me, ma’am?”

An employee turned my way, “Yes, how may I help you?”

“Could you help me find a couple of dresses for a party tonight?”

She answered with a smile, “Yeah, follow me to get your measurements first.”

She had me stand before a mirror, using her measuring tape to get my exact numbers. I noticed Robert’s eyes in the reflection examining me as she wrapped the tape around my bust. He bit down in his lip and tried his best to hide his smirk as I scowled at him. After the measuring was finished, she brought over a small collection of dresses and led me to the changing room.

She moved the curtain aside, “Just leave whatever you like inside the room and let me know if you need anything else.”

“I also need some work clothes. Jeans, mostly, under-things…and work boots.”

After thanking her, I made sure to keep the curtain closed up keeping my eyes out in case I see those ocean blue eyes peering at me. Everything looked really lovely, yet my perception changed the moment each time the outfits were on me. Everything seemed in place and the colors were beautiful, but nothing looked right to me. Even when I lifted my hair up in a makeshift ponytail and turned around, it hardly made a difference.

Robert cleared his throat, “Anjelika, how are you doin’ in there?”

“Um, well…”

“Come on, let me see you. I haven’t seen you in any of the dresses yet since we got here,” Robert mentioned.

“I don’t know, I don’t think… maybe…”

“Please, come out,” he begged.

I stepped out wearing a thin strapped red dress, the flowing skirt piece reached down to my knees and was cut asymmetric.

Robert eyed my look, “You look beautiful in red.”

“You think so? Thank you. What else should I get?”

Robert walked over and examined the other ones, holding up each one by the hanger’s metal hook. Positioning them in a way so that he could see what they looked like on me. He handed over the orange dress that was a bit longer and had a low v-neck cut. I was skeptical to wear it again, but tried it on once more and showed him.

The boutique employee returned with a small pile of jeans, a pack of underwear and a few bras, handing them over to me. “What’s your shoe size, dear?”

“9 ½ to 10, depending on the shoe.”

The woman nodded and left again to find shoes for me. I went back into the dressing room to try on the jeans and found they actually fit. As I came out once more, I found Robert had followed the woman to the shoe section. So I sat with my items until they returned. I tried on the work boots first, finding that the 10’s fit better. Robert had apparently picked out a pair of heels to go with the dresses. In that case, it was the 9 ½ that fit.

When we got to the register, the woman had also managed to fish up some makeup and jewelry to go with the dresses as well.

@salixfragilis @brownskinsugarplum76 @firethatgrewsolow @lady-jane-revisited @princesspagey @tremble-and-shake @tangerine-page @m-faithfull @jimmys-zeppelin @timetraveller4 @callmethehunter @tophats-n-lespauls please let me know if I missed anyone or if you would like to be added.

[ashthewaterghoul]

The Ball - A Wolfstar One Shot

Tonight was the night. The night that the class of 1978 had been anxiously awaiting. The seventh year leavers’ ball. Every girl had meticulously perfected each element of their outfit and the lads had some help from their dates in finding the right dress robes, corsages and other accessories. Each couple was perfectly matching one another, and the Great Hall was decorated with magic aplenty. Confetti sprinkling down from the ceiling, banners that flashed different messages of good-luck and goodbyes, self-refilling plates and bowls of food and drinks and tables that grew depending on how many people were around it.

The couplings were just as anyone expected, Peter and Mary going as friends, James and Lily, Marlene and Dorcas, and who could forget, Sirius and Remus. Sirius had been fussing over each detail of their ensembles since Remus asked him out in a much less extravagant way then James did for Lily. Sirius was wondering how he could tie a tie and fold a pocket square without magic and trying to find spells so that his robes’ shade of black was exactly the same as Remus’.

The night was finally here, and Remus was on what he calls “the perfect day” of the lunar cycle, it’s the day when the moon has very little effect on him, his strength, his senses, anything. He could enjoy the time with his date like any regular lad going. Even though Sirius had started getting ready at 1 o’clock that afternoon, he still wasn’t done, and it was nearly 7 o’clock, the start of the ball. Remus was the only one left in the common room, he was nervously fidgeting with the positioning of his corsage, which Sirius has picked out to match the dress robes. He was about to go see if Sirius was okay, even though he was given strict orders to not see him until he was done.

Just as Remus started towards the stairs to the dorm, his date walked down. Remus’ breath escaped him completely. The wait was definitely worth it. Sirius’ long, silky curtain of hair was pulled into the signature bun with his wand going through it, small pieces of hair purposefully pulled out, perfectly framing his already perfect face. His makeup could be described as nothing less than gorgeous, blue shimmering eyeshadow accompanied by a large wing of eyeliner, the dash of blush brought even more warmth to his face and the bright red lipgloss was the cherry on top of the cake. The robes that Sirius was panicking so much about were just as perfect as the boy wearing them, the midnight blue tie and pocket square folded and tied perfectly, adorned with a dog paw print tie pin.

“You going to stand there gawking or are you going to take me to the ball?” Sirius said jokingly, a wide smile on his face. Remus found the ability to speak.

“Sirius, you look beautiful.” He said adoringly.

“You look very handsome.” Sirius replied.

“Thanks. Well, shall we?” He held an arm out.

“Yes, we shall.” Sirius replied, linking arms with his date.

They walked down to the hall, smiles gleaming and unchanging.

When they got down to the area before the hall, they instantly spotted their friends and walked over.

“Finally!” James said, spotting the two.

“We almost thought you weren’t coming.” Lily said.

“After all the effort that went into this?”he gestured to his entire body, “You’d have to be barking.”

“I reckon I look better though.” Marlene butted in, dramatically adjusting her robes and orange tie, which she favoured over a dress.

“Attention students!” McGonagall announced by the entrance to the hall, “If you get into your pairs, you may enter in a moment.”

Everyone instantly jumped into a line, joined tightly to their partners. The doors swung open, revealing the decorations that Lily and Dorcas were in charge of, every one walked in and sat at their allocated seats, ready for their meal which promptly arrived, well, appeared. Soon after, everyone was done eating and ready to dance.

The first dance was to a traditional wizard’s ball song, with a specific dance to accompany it, Sirius assumed what was usually the female’s part. The music started and everyone started dancing in synchronisation. As Remus and Sirius danced together, they felt strangely connected in a a strange way, each move, each lift, each second caused the connection to grow. The last lift at the very end of the song went well, but Remus lowered Sirius slowly and gently, not wanting the moment to end. Sirius looked deeply at Remus as he slowly descended. After a few moments of silence before the next song a million emotions flowed through each lad, and an equal amount of words were silently exchanged. The next song started playing, this one very slow and no specific dance, the two just held each other. Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus’ shoulders, and Remus held onto Sirius’ waist, their foreheads were pressed against each other’s, eyes shut as they gently swayed to the music.

Lily and James were holding each other in a similar fashion, her red hair in bouncy curls over one shoulder, James didn’t want to wear green, but after seeing Lily in her dress for the first time he could not resist. Dorcas and Marlene chose to wear orange, Dorcas in a light, flowing dress that actually managed to get Marlene at a loss for words and Peter and Mary in yellow to “symbolise the happiness of friendship” as they put it, Mary had a rather simple dress on, that worked surprisingly well with the dresses of her friends. The three couples all kept staring at Sirius and Remus, happy that they had finally found that bond that had always been lurking within since they met.

The volume of the song started to increase, Remus and Sirius separated their foreheads and nodded in unspoken understanding. As the music suddenly swelled, the two boys pulled each other into a kiss, a passionate kiss that cemented their bond with each other, forever, no matter what.

A few songs and a lot of dancing later, the two lads had snuck off outside to their little spot on the grounds that no one else knew about. Sat with not even a centimetre between them, silently smoking while enjoying the company of each other. Remus finished his cigarette and threw it to the ground, and turned to face his boyfriend. He just stared at how perfect he looked.

“You’re gawking again.” He said while casually taking another puff.

“I know.”

“Okay, then.” He said, shaking his head with a smirk.

“Merlin, you’re gorgeous.” Remus let out and caused a massive smile to grow on Sirius’ face.

“You are just,” Sirius said chuckling, not quite being able to find the right word.

“I’m just what?”

He placed a small kiss on Remus’ lips.

“That, you’re just that.”

Remus chuckled, but a thought crossed his mind and caused his face to drop.

“Are you sure you want us?” He asked, motioning between the two.

“What do you mean?” Sirius’ expression unchanged.

“I’m a werewolf and you’re a Black.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock.”

“We aren’t exactly going to have it easy.”

“Remus,” he said softly, throwing his cigarette away and moving to sit on his boyfriend’s lap, “I don’t care. I just want you, and you are a werewolf, and that’s amazing, and you are amazing.”

Remus started to tear up at those words.

“Padfoot, that was beautiful.” He said gently tucking one of the stray bits of Sirius’ hair behind his ear.

“No, Moony, you are beautiful, in whatever form.” His silver eyes twinkling in the starlight.

Remus gently pulled Sirius into another small kiss. Remus was staring at Sirius, something was clearly dancing around his mind.

“What is it, Rem?”

He took a deep breath before saying: “I love you. I always have, and I always will.”

It was Sirius’ turn to tear up now. He let of a happy sob and flung his arms around Remus, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. After a few moments of a bone crushing hug, Sirius looked at Remus fully.

“I love you, and I will never stop.”

Remus took another deep breath and said: “Pads, I never want to spend a day without you, never again, so would you consider spending this night with me? And tomorrow, and every day after that?”

Sirius was speechless. His happy crying replaced with a shocked expression that was fixed and impossible for Remus to read.

“I’m sorry, that was too much to quick wasn’t it? You can forget I said that, if you want. I-”

Remus was cut off by deep kiss.

“Of course I will.” Sirius said in a soft whisper.

The two went back into another tearful, bone crushing hug.

“We should tattoos as well.” Sirius said, finally looking at his boyfriend again.

“What of?”

Sirius looked around for ideas until his eyes landed on his tie pin.

“What about we get each other’s paw prints?”

“That sounds great, Pads.”

The two pressed their foreheads together again, just next with each other. They enjoyed a long few moments, until they were abruptly bombarding with their friends dog piling on top of them. All of them rolling on top of one another in an entanglement of limbs, laughing so much that most of them were losing their breath completely. When they were finally all free of each other, Dorcas piped up: “We were wondering where you got to!”

“Yeah, we thought you’d gone back to the dorm to-“

“NO, that was just you Mary!” Lily cut her off.

“How did you find us?” Remus asked.

“You forget that one of us can turn into a very small, somewhat undetectable animal.” Peter answered.

“Oh yeah, forgot about that.”

“Why’d you guys sneak out here anyways?” Marlene asked.

“We were trying to get some peace and quiet.” Sirius said.

“Yeah, probably so you could-“

“Mary MacDonald, I swear to God!” Lily shouted.

“Shall we go back in? It’s freezing out here.” Dorcas said, brushing the grass from her dress. All the girls made their way in as the boys stayed behind staring after some of their closest friends, Sirius and Remus clinging to each other’s side like there’s no tomorrow.

“They all look great tonight don’t they?” Remus said aloud.

“They always do, mate.” James said, clapping an arm around Remus’ back.

“You know what I mean, you were absolutely gawping at Lily, more than usual that is.” Remus joked.

“I could say the same about you with that one.” He gestured towards Sirius.

Remus let out a light chuckle.

“Can you blame me? He looks gorgeous.” He turned his head to look at Sirius, who was giggling and blushing.

James walked around to Sirius’ free side and put an arm around his back which was promptly returned, and Remus waved to Peter to join him. The four boys walked back to the castle, linked together like brothers, well two were closer than brothers. The special, unique bonds that each shared were ones that would last a lifetime. And Remus and Sirius? That bond would surpass a lifetime.

Hello there, sorry this one was so long, it’s ~1880 words so if you made it to the end then have a cookie 🍪. This was inspired by a part I put in ‘Take Me Back - A Wolfstar One Shot’. Thank you for reading! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated as well as other ideas for future fics!🥰

You can view my other one shots here

[isitgintimeyet]

Just a Friend

So I finally started to write another story...

I will try and post weekly, but can’t promise on account of real life and my inability to actually focus on translating what’s in my head onto paper (or screen!)

Getting the courage to post never gets any easier, but here goes. I hope you enjoy this frothy bit of fun. I will also post on AO3.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for being an excellent beta.

Chapter 1: From Airport to Aggravation

Bank holiday crowds, on the whole, are hell.

And this one is rapidly turning into an even deeper level of purgatory. The hottest May for years in Scotland and I’m stuck at Glasgow airport with a dozen women, collectively known as ‘Geillis’s Hen Party Posse’, each displaying varying degrees of inebriation, hangover or general sleep deprivation, and all aiming for the luggage carousel showing the flight from Barcelona. Which apparently is where several hundred other disembarked passengers are also heading.

Eventually, I manage to get a view of the bags and cases slowly making their way around the belt. They’re pretty picked over by this time, apart from the couple of boxes covered in gaffer tape that always seem to be first off a plane—any plane—and last to be collected. They’re always there, on every flight. Why is that?

I pause from my musings to wave frantically at Geillis, who now has a trolley and is clearing a path straight towards me.

“I got us a trolley.” she informs me, stating the obvious. “I thought it’d be easier. Have ye seen ours yet, Claire? I canna see the others. They must have already gone through.”

“No,” I answer, keeping my eyes firmly on the little hatch, willing our bags to appear. All I want is to go home, put my sleep mask on and try and get some sleep. Three days in Barcelona celebrating Geillis’s forthcoming nuptials have worn me out, and, I glance at my watch, I am due in theatre in approximately seventeen hours time.

"It's there, it's there," Geillis points excitedly at the neon pink and green leopard print bag making its way towards us.

She makes a grab for it as I continue to look for my bag. Predictably, it’s one of the last ones on the carousel. I recognise it immediately from the piece of red gift ribbon tied to the handle of the plain black Samsonite. I load it onto the trolley and Geillis and I head through customs to join the rest of the posse.

We say our goodbyes loudly, with much hugging and kisses. A stranger viewing this scene might imagine we won’t be seeing each other again for weeks or even months. In truth, I’ll be seeing most of them in the next week or so at the hospital as our schedules coincide.

“Shall we two get a taxi, then?” Geillis asks me.

I start to answer as my mobile pings — a text from Frank...very nice, very caring, very predictable.

Darling, it’s been a long three days without you. I am ready to collect you from the airport if you would like. If not, might I see you later this evening? xxx

And that is very clearly Frank. Correct grammar and punctuation, even on his texts. I shake my head as if to drive away my inner bitch and pretend I haven’t read it. I will respond, of course, just later when I’m back at home.

So, I smile at Geillis and agree. “Of course, we can go halves.”

***********

As I walk into my flat, the peace and quiet and sheer bloody calm wraps itself around me like a swaddling cloth. It’s blissfully cool too, with all the shutters closed.

It’s not that I didn’t have a good time in Barcelona. It was actually great. But being in the company of others twenty four hours a day is wearing, much as I love them. And we all had to do everything together. No sneaking off for a solitary walk, or escaping to bed for a little siesta.

I deposit my suitcase by the bedroom door, slip off my converse, pour myself a glass of orange juice, settle down on the sofa and figure out how best to tell Frank not tonight without offending him.

Frank, Sorry but tonight isn’t —

I delete and try again.

Thanks for the offer to pick me up. I was already in the taxi when I got it. Can we give tonight a miss? Theatre in the morning and I’m knackered totally exhausted. You know what Geillis is like. Speak tomorrow, I promise. C

Frank knows what Geillis is like. Frank thinks Geillis is a bad influence on me, with her larger than life personality and wild ideas. I think Frank doesn’t really know me at all if he believes I can be influenced like that. I hang out with Geillis and my friends because they’re fun and we laugh… a lot.

Without realising, I feel my shoulder muscles relax as soon as I’ve sent the message. These are not good signs for my relationship with Frank. He’s investing far more into ‘us’ than I am willing to do. But as long as I’m honest with him…

There are advantages to being with Frank, of course. He’s punctual, very organised and a proficient and considerate lover. He always makes sure I come, even if I sometimes...er… exaggerate my reactions to hurry things along. So much for honesty, then.

I finish my orange juice and plan my evening. Four things to do - unpack, grab some food, shower and sleep. Not even going to wash my hair. That would really be too much effort, struggling with my untameable mane, and it’s going to be stuck under a surgical cap for most of tomorrow anyway.

It takes a bit of effort to actually move from the sofa. I could quite happily fall asleep there. But then I’d wake up in the middle of the night—starving hungry and still smelling of sweaty airports. Reluctantly, I haul myself into a vertical position and head for my bedroom picking up my suitcase en route.

Opening the suitcase, I am not greeted with the expected haphazard mass of sun dresses, t shirts and shorts—all with the evocative aroma of Hawaiian Tropic—but a layer of white dress shirts, immaculately folded and the faint scent of a musky cologne.

Shit, shit, shit!! Some else has walked off with my black samsonite with the red ribbon on the handle. My evening plans are rapidly going awry. I delve into my handbag praying that I kept my boarding pass with the sticky bar code luggage receipt. The relief when I find it lurking in the bottom of my bag is immense. Quickly I google the airline lost baggage number and dial.

After a few bars of some god awful plinky plinky hold music, I hear a recorded message. “Your call is important to us, please hold. Your call is important to us, please hold.”

Good to know, then back to the plinky plinky before another message. “The office you are trying to reach is now closed. Please try again during office hours nine am to five thirty. Thank you.”

“If my call is so important to you, why is no one there at six o’clock?” I yell down the phone, but the plinky plinky ignores me and continues its irritating melody.

I sigh. I don’t want to have to wait until tomorrow morning to sort this out. Besides, by nine am tomorrow morning, I will be somewhat unavailable - reshaping the hip bone of a seven year old boy. So, I have no alternative. I will have to have a bit of a dig around this stranger’s suitcase, looking for any clue or contact details.

As I start to have a feel around, it occurs to me that some stranger might, at this very moment, be doing exactly the same thing — having a poke around my suitcase in the hope of finding my details. No doubt judging me based on my choice of holiday attire.  And, I suddenly realise, his judgement may well be coloured by the discovery of some items of a more adult nature.

I say ‘he’, based on the XL white shirts, the pair of battered jeans and faded Scotland rugby shirt, but I could be wrong. I don’t have to dig any further into the case as I spy, in a mesh pocket, a neat rectangle of card with a name — James Fraser — a mobile number and an email address.

Relief sweeps over me. Perhaps we can get this all sorted tonight. Unless this James Fraser lives miles away and was just passing through Glasgow on his way to, say, the Outer Hebrides. That could be a whole other level of problem.

I quickly reach for my phone. Another message from Frank awaits.

Are you sure, darling? I’m looking forward to seeing you. Would tomorrow evening work for you?

I ignore it for the moment. Let me sort my luggage issue out first.

I dial the number on the card and begin to pace around my bedroom as it rings and rings. I am just about to give up when, thankfully, it’s answered.

“Hello?” A female voice asks warily.

I clear my throat and put on my most pleasant phone voice. “Is there a James Fraser there please?”

“Ye’ve the wrong number.”

“Oh, sorry, I must have mis—“ I begin, but find myself apologising to dead air.

I try again, carefully comparing each digit to those written, very neatly, on the card.

“Hello?” The same female voice answers, more than a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“I’m sorry, but this is the number I have for James Fra—“

“And I already told ye, ye’ve the wrong number. Dinna bother again.”

In the days before mobiles, I’m sure this would have been accompanied by a deafening crash as the receiver hit the cradle. Pressing a soft key doesn’t have the same dramatic effect. But I get the message anyway.

So, new plan needed. All I can do is email this James Fraser and hope he actually has written down the correct email address. If not, I’ll have to sort it out with the airline tomorrow afternoon.

My stomach rumbles and I suddenly realise that I’ve not eaten since breakfast, unless you count the slices of fruit in my jug of sangria. I wander into the kitchen and peruse the contents of my cupboards and fridge. I’m not the most gifted cook, but I’m not too bad and can usually rustle up something edible and fairly tasty. The bread feels a bit on the dry side but will be fine toasted, and I know I have eggs.

I put a knob of butter in a pan and text Frank while I’m waiting for it to sizzle.

Think tomoz will be ok. Talk 2morrow. C

I don’t normally use text speak at all,  but something about Frank’s perfectly formed text messages always makes me want to rebel. I can imagine him wincing right now.  He’s a professor at the university and is forever complaining about the standard of literacy amongst his undergraduates. If he thinks he has problems, he should try dealing with junior doctors.

With my scrambled egg on toast all eaten, I focus my attention on the email to James Fraser. I write it quickly, brief and to the point: I have your suitcase and therefore presume you have mine, can we meet to swap them over and here’s my phone number.

The longing for a shower and then bed is now overwhelming. I strip off and bundle all my clothes into the laundry basket, tie my hair up with a scrunchie and step into my shower. This is undoubtedly one of my favourite places on earth and possibly the reason that I bought this flat. Large enough for two, I suppose. Although none have yet been invited to partake in this heavenly experience. Maybe I’m saving that for someone extra special. It has a huge overhead rainfall shower head and a handheld shower head too.

My indulgences are all in here — a selection of expensive shower gels, scrubs and lotions and an assortment of huge fluffy bath towels. I choose a lavender scented gel and scrub all traces of the day from my skin.

Wrapping myself  in one of my pristine white towels, I slather shea butter lotion on my slightly sun-burnt skin, noticing the uneven red patches where the sun cream hadn’t quite reached but at least it’s not sore.

A quick check of my emails shows there’s no word from James Fraser as yet, so I decide to just settle down to sleep and leave luggage worries until the morning. Fortunately, I had changed the sheets before my weekend away, so I simply unwrap my towel, leaving it in a heap on the floor and slide into bed. The feeling of the cool, crisp bedding against my skin is wonderful. I assume a sort of diagonal starfish position, not having to worry about any other occupants. It crosses my mind whether to reach for the tiny vibrator in my bedside drawer, but I’m too comfortable and drowsy for that, so instead I check my alarm and settle down for sleep.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Trip

Warning: allusions to nonconcent sex

I would like to ask for a Dark! Drabble Requests - July 28-31, 2020: Vacation AUs: - The reader goes for a midnight swim but isn't the only one with the idea, with Loki, please… @scorpionchild81 and @ladyacrasia

.-.-.-.

You hadn't been on a family trip since you were just a kid. Since then, your father had cycled through three different jobs and moved you all around until you were off to college.

Now, fresh out off graduation and hoping he could use he new favourable position to your advantage, this trip would be your chance. You hoped to convince him to get you a spot at the company that had given him a bonus big enough to see your family to a whole week at the upscale resort in the Carribean.

It was unlike any family vacation you'd taken before. Most of your childhood had been road trips and camping but now you could bask in the pristine pool and the mini-bar on your father's dime.

Your mother messaged you to come meet the family for the breakfast that would mark the true beginning and you were all too eager to have it done with. Your sister could take her brats elsewhere while you took your mimosa to the pool.

You were the last to arrive, your sunglasses pulled cooly over your eyes and a sunhat that made you feel like some old Hollywood actress, though your leopard print cover-up might have screamed Jersey Shore. You sat and ordered your first drink of the day and didn't miss the disapproving look from your father. Well, maybe you should try to butter him up before you got too wild.

"So dad," You smiled at him. "What I was saying at the airport..."

"I just don't know that it's for you, honey," He shrugged. "It's pretty cutthroat."

"Yeah, but you do it. Dad, come one, you used to be an accountant!" You argued. "I did that internship and I have experience."

"I'd hate for anyone to think--"

"Fred?" A voice interrupted your father and had you frowning beneath your wide-brimmed hat.

A dark haired man approached, tall and at least a decade and a half younger than your father. He smiled at you as he neared but focused on your father.

"So I see you took my recommendation," He slithered.

"Oh, yeah," Your dad shifted his chair. "It's a nice place. As always, you have good taste."

You glanced back at the rest of the table and your family tried not to stare at the stranger. You turned to him again and sighed at your father.

"Oh, my bad," He chuckled. "This," He looked back at the rest, "Is Loki. We work together." He turned back to the man. "This is the family. My wife, Talulah, my eldest, Riane, her children, Dana and Dora, her husband, Anthony, and my younger daughter." He introduced you last and you gave a wry wave.

"A wonderful family," He smirked. "I do hate to disturb you, just wanted to say hello."

"No problem. We'll have to grab a drink later," You dad rested his hand on the back of your chair. "Actually," He peeked over at you. "My daughter just got her business degree. We were talking about possible openings. No pressure or anything but maybe you could give her a few tips about getting a good job."

"I could offer a few pointers," He replied. "You know, Lorelai is leaving. She got an offer from Sterling so I will need a replacement."

"There ya go," Your dad announced. "Daddy's done his part."

You blanched, embarrassed, and smiled sheepishly at the man. He considered you a moment before tilting his head and refocusing on your father.

"I hope it wouldn't be remiss of me but we could discuss now," Loki ventured. "I was only just about to sit down and I would have her back shortly enough for your breakfast to arrive."

"You'd be doing me a favour," Your dad guffawed. "Take her. I have enough kids badgering me and this is supposed to be a break!"

Loki snicked and nodded. "Very well. Miss, if it isn't interrupting your own plans, shall we?"

"Sure," You said with fake glee as you stood. "Thanks," You grabbed your dad's shoulder and squeezed, "Daddy."

Loki waved you past to a table not very far and you sat across from him. He waved over the waiter and ordered a latte, you assured him you already had a drink waiting for you with your family.

"Do you mind working your way up?" He began. "I'm afraid the position is entry level but it does have room for upward movement."

"Of course, I would expect..." You took your hat off, feeling absolutely ridiculous. "I didn't expect to have like a private office. I'm a hard worker. I worked in a mailroom for a while and did some secretary work."

"Great," He said. "Unfortunately you would be little more than a glorified secretary at first but as I said, not forever."

"I could... send a copy of my resume. I'd hate to be thought of as using my dad to--"

"Not at all. Send it so we can file the paperwork but frankly, you're making it so much easier on me. I have interviews," He paused as the waiter set down his drink and thanked him. "Well, perhaps I shall see you around but I won't keep you from enjoying your vacation."

"Well, thanks," You stood slowly. "Enjoy your breakfast."

"I think I will," He smiled. "Though, we might just run into each other again. It's a rather exclusive resort."

;P

You were relieved to have something to look forward to on your return home. No more schlupping it in the bookstore, you would be on your way to something legitimate. Or you hoped, at least.

You spent your day lounging by the pool, the sun draining you as the alcohol seeped deep into your veins. It was the ideal day; lazy and careless. You didn't even dip your toe in the pool but there was always tomorrow.

Or tonight. You got back to your room, restless despite all the tequila. You were actually starting to sober up the longer you laid across the bed and stared at the ceiling.

So you got up and grabbed your room key and sandals and snuck down the hallways. The pool was closed so you kept on past it and ventured down the the beach where the dark waters crashed beneath the moonlight.

You giggled as you realised you only had on your tacky night gown with the pineapples printed all over it. You shrugged and tore it over your head as you slipped out of your sandals and dropped the card in the folds of the pajamas.

You ran into the waves as they flowed in and dove into the waters with the ebb. You swirled beneath the surface and came back up with a gasp. The water was brisk and revitalizing. You swayed with the quell and basked in the delicious coolness as your body adjusted to the temperature.

You dipped beneath the water again and as you bobbed back up, a figure came into sight along the shoreline. Naked and still slightly tipsy, you watched the man come into focus. You dove back under in an effort to hide and when you came back up, we was gone.

You looked around, searching for him along the beach. He might have just passed you by but he was no where to be seen. He couldn't have gone that quickly.

Then the surface broke beside you and you yiped as you turned to face the stranger. He smiled at you, his long nose and green eyes glowed in the moonlight. It was Loki and he was just as bare as you.

"Oh my god," You backed up and tripped on the silt. "What are you--"

"Seems like I wasn't the only one with a good idea," He cooed. "Don't worry, dear, can't see much..."

"Jesus," You crossed your arms over your chest and your teeth chattered. "You might think this is funny but--"

"I don't," He snickered. "In fact..." He got closer. "I think it's pretty hot."

"Wha- uh, look, I don't know what impression you got earlier--"

"Earlier? Oh no, but I like what I'm seeing now," He purred and caught you before you could get any further. His arm wrapped around you and he drew you close. You could feel his arousal against you. "Come on, this job could be a great opportunity and it does come with some amazing perks."

"Job?" You spat as you struggled against him. "I'm not-- I'll find something else. Let me go."

"Darling," He pushed his hand against your cunt and you squeezed your legs together. "Should I tell Daddy what you offered to do for this foot in the door, hmm? Your doting father wouldn't give you a job so you thought maybe you could coerce me."

"What do you-- No, you--"

"Shhhh," He forced his fingers between your legs and twirled you around. "We have all week to get you ready for your position..." He brushed his nose against yours, his lips tickled, "Oh, we can try many positions indeed."

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

One Shot: Wings

Intro: They say that once you’ve been inked, it kinda becomes an addiction…

Warnings: Bad language.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR STARK SPANGLED BANNER

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 “Jamie, ”Katie sighed exasperatedly as her 9 year old looked up from where he was sprawled on the rug of the den, piecing his newest lego kit that Sam and Bucky had bought him for his birthday “You need to get your stuff for school.” “Don’t wanna.” he pouted.

“Tough.”

“I don’t feel well.”

“Oh no, really?” Katie bent down, feeling his head. “Hmmmm. You do feel warm. What’s wrong?” “Sort throat.” “Oh, well… that means no soccer practice tomorrow then…and you should go straight back to bed until I can take you to the doctors later today…”

Jamie paused and looked up at her and she raised an eyebrow “Nice try Pal.”  

“Mommmm”

“Don’t make me shout your father.” she used her ace card.

Jamie gave an exaggerated sigh and stood up, rolling his eyes. Katie bit her lip to stop herself laughing at the utter indignation on his face.

“It’s Friday dude.” she smiled at him. “You got all weekend to play legos if that’s what you wanna do.”

“Does that mean I can stay up late tonight to work on it?” he asked hopefully.

“Define late.” Katie looked at him.

“11?”

“Hmmmm, I dunno.” she said playfully.

“Please?”

“I’ll speak to your dad.” she said and he smiled at her, the pair of them both knowing full well that Steve was a soft touch when it came to stuff like that. He’d probably be there helping him out with it anyway.

“Ok Mom. Can you make sure Harry doesn’t touch it whilst I’m at school?”

“I’ll keep this door shut, I promise.”  Katie assured him.

He left the room and true to her word Katie shut the door to the den and watched him head up the stairs, passing Aurora who was on her way down with her rucksack, Steve right behind her with their youngest placed on his hip.

“Hi mammamama!” Harry babbled at her and she grinned, taking him off Steve and planting a kiss to his cheek.

“Hi baby!” she grinned as his hand instantly went to grab the chain of her necklace.

“Jamie not planning on going to school today?” Steve asked her with a grin as Rori headed off to find her shoes.

“Tried telling me he was sick so he could stay home and play legos.” she snorted “Soon decided he was ok when I told him that meant no soccer practice tomorrow morning.” Steve shook his head, smiling to himself.

“Daddy?” Rori tugged on his trouser leg and he turned his attention to her.

“What’s up Princess?”

“I can’t find my sneakers.”

“Where did you leave them?” he asked, his hand gently dropping to the back of her head.

“Erm…” she pondered for a moment, before she looked up at her mom bashfully.

“Somebody left them in the middle of the lounge…” Katie looked at her. “So the Fairies put them away.”

“Sorry…” Rori wrinkled her nose and blinked up at her mom.

“It’s ok. They’re on the shoe rack sweetie.” Katie nodded to the kitchen in the direction of the utility room located at the back of the house.  

“Thanks momma.” she said, running off to retrieve them.

“What time does Emmy’s train get in?” Steve looked at Katie.

“Just after twelve.” Katie said, blowing a raspberry on Harry’s cheek. “I’ll meet her and then take her straight to get inked…” Steve let out a breath from his nose. All Emmy had talked about since turning 21st was a tattoo. Steve wasn’t particularly sure he approved but then what could he do? She was an adult now. Katie hadn’t been bothered, but then as she’d pointed out, she had a big enough one on her thigh so it would be fairly hypocritical if she had. Emmy had won Steve over though when she’d asked him to draw it for her. She’d described what she wanted, a small Phoenix type bird that would sit just above her ankle. So after a few designs and sketches she’d finally settled on something she wanted and after a consultation she was having it done this afternoon.  

“You staying with her?” Steve looked at Katie, concern etched across his face. Katie gave a soft laugh.

“She’s a big girl now Steve but yeah, I’m gonna stay.” she said, tugging on his beard playfully.

“Good.” he nodded, jerking his head out of reach. “Do you need me to pick the kids up later or…”

“No, by the time their afterschool clubs are done we’ll have finished so I’ll do it.” she smiled as Rori came back, sneakers in her hand. She sat on the bottom step and proceeded to push her feet into the pink converse, Steve crouching down on one knee to tie her shoelaces for her.

“Thanks daddy.”

“You’re welcome sweetheart.” he said, dropping a kiss to her head before he turned to look up the stairs “Jamie! Come on!”

“I’m coming…” came the surly reply, and no sooner had they heard it he appeared at the top of the steps, rucksack in hand.

“Drop the attitude.” Steve said sternly as Jamie trudged down the stairs, scowling. Steve looked at Katie, raising his eyebrow as their eldest son stalked past them, heading to the door, Rori running behind him.

“Wait for me Jay…” she called, her small feet slapping on the tiles of the hallway as she went.

“Told you…” Katie said, smirking “He’s a mini you…”

“That filthy look he had on his face? That is a Stark expression.” Steve said, looking back at her as he picked Rori’s rucksack up.

“Is not.” Katie laughed “That’s the face you make whenever someone’s pissing you off.”

Steve gave a snort before he dropped a soft kiss to her lips, making Harry shriek.

“Kissy!” he laughed.

“See you later.” Steve smiled against her mouth “Love you.” “You too” she said, and with a last peck and a ruffle of Harry’s hair he headed after Jamie and Rori, barking out an instruction for them to quit their squabble over who was sitting in the front seat.

“Easy solution…” Katie heard Steve say loudly “You can both get in the back. End of discussion.”

Their protest’s died as the door snapped shut.

Katie chuckled to herself and looked at Harry “Shall we get you ready to go too baby boy?”

“Go!” he nodded, grinning. 

*******

Katie’s morning was reasonably easy. A meeting and a manuscript to review which she’d managed to do by half 11. Changing out of her office clothes into a loose pair of sweats, trainers and a hoody she headed out and made her way to Grand Central.

She spotted Emmy emerging into the main terminal and swept her daughter up into a hug.

“Hey mom.” Emmy said, squeezing her back.

“Ready to go get inked?” Katie asked, Emmy grinned and slung her satchel over one shoulder, linking her arm through her mom’s.

“You eaten?” Katie asked as they walked out into the early April sun.

“Yeah, followed the instructions.” Emmy nodded.

“Good.” Katie said. “Nervous?”

“A little.” Emmy shrugged “It’s gonna hurt right?”

“It’s not so bad.” Katie shrugged, “Some places hurt more apparently but…most important thing to remember is if you need a break just ask.”

“Ok.”

The two women walked a few blocks, catching up. It had been a couple of weeks since Emmy was home, fast approaching the last few weeks of the semester at Harvard before her exams started. All of her marks so far had been sky high, leaving her parents immensely proud, although both had taken great pains to tell her that they didn’t care what the outcome was, as long as she tried her best.

Eventually they reached the place and Emmy opened the door, stepping in. David, the man that had done the consultation a few weeks back beckoned them both through.

“Ok, so…” he said, tilting the screen to show Emmy the picture of her design he’d scanned “I gotta say I’m excited about this one, it’s pretty unique.”

“My dad drew it.” Emmy beamed.

“It’s phenomenal.” David smiled “I had to sharpen some of the lines up but there’s no major changes. Are you happy with it?”

Emmy nodded.

“Ok, and yours Mrs Rogers…” David clicked and the imaged changed. “The touches we’re adding to your thigh are fairly straight forward but this one…this is what I think it is right?”

Katie nodded.

“Awesome…” David smiled, and hit print and stood up to collect both the prints.

“Have you told Dad?” Emmy looked at her. Katie smirked and shook her head.

“Nope.” she popped the p on the word “Thought it would be a nice surprise when he gets to see it later.” “I’m not sure if I should be grossed out by that thought or not.” Emmy mumbled and Katie simply laughed.

Just over 2 and a half hours later they were done, leaving the parlour with strict after care instructions. Emmy had hardly flinched through hers, whereas Katie’s new one had been slightly uncomfortable due to the placing.

“Think that earned us a beer…” Katie said checking her watch. “Come on, we got time before we need to collect the heathens.”

***** “Show me! Show me!”  Rori demanded.

“You can’t see it yet short stuff.” Emmy said fondly “It’s still wrapped up.”

“When can you unwrap it?” Jamie asked.

“Another hour or so yet.” Katie answered “So quit bugging your sister and go put your school bags away.”

“Emmy do you wanna watch Sponge Bob with me?” Rori asked. 

“Only if we can sing the special song…” Emmy grinned, holding her hand out for a hi-five. Rori giggled, and slapped her smaller palm against her sister’s.

“What special song?” Katie looked at her.

“Oh just a variation on the theme tune we made up.” Emmy said, grinning mischievously 

“I dread to think.” Katie muttered, watching Jamie and Rori head up stairs to deposit their rucksacks in their room.

Katie bustled around making dinner, simple spaghetti and meatballs as requested by all 4 kids…well, the elder 3…Harry merely clapped his hands and yelled “getty” in agreement. She was stood stirring the sauce when she heard Steve walk through the door an toss his keys onto the table in the hall little under an hour later. 

“Daddy’s home!” she heard Rori shriek and a moment later Steve chuckled.

“Hey…” he said, sweeping her up and placing a kiss on her cheek. He carried her through to the kitchen where he greeted Harry with a ruffle of the hair as he sat by the table doodling on a pad with Emmy.

“Hi sweetie.” Steve said, as Emmy stood up to give him a hug. “How was the tattooing?”

“Good.” she nodded, “Oh, actually, mom….should I unwrap it now?”

“Errr, yeah.” Katie said, turning the heat down on the stove and accepting the kiss Steve offered. “Can you watch these 2. I’ll go help Emmy out…”

“Sure.” Steve said, “Where’s Jamie?”

“2 guesses” Katie grinned at him and Steve shook his head, smiling, knowing full well that meant he was nose deep in lego.

Katie and Emmy bounded up the stairs and returned about 15 minutes later, Emmy proudly showing off the design on her right ankle. Steve had to admit, it did look pretty good, but then he would say that, he drew it after all.

They dragged Jamie out of the den for dinner, where the boy managed 2 helpings before he ran off again, almost having a meltdown when Katie told him he had to share the den as Rori wanted to watch Cartoons. One stern look from Steve nipped the tantrum in the bud and the 4 kids departed once dishes had been deposited in the sink, Katie waving away Emmy’s offer to help, telling her to go spend some time with her siblings. It didn’t take her and Steve long to clear down and they were heading towards the living room to collapse onto the sofa together, but the shriek and cheers coming from the den made them both stop in their tracks.

“What on Earth are they watching?”  Steve looked at his wife.

“Sponge Bob, apparently…” Katie said. The two looked at one another, before they headed back towards the den and peeked through the door which was open a crack.

Emmy was stood, swaying with Harry held on her hip, the pair of them laughing, whilst Jamie was doing some kind of strange running man dance as Rori bounced up and down on the sofa as the opening credits began to roll. Emmy opened her mouth and started singing along to the opening theme tune in a pirate voice.

Only she wasn’t singing the theme tune. They were completely different words.

“Who lived as a Capsicle under the sea?” Emmy paused to look at Jamie and Rori who both yelled back in chorus, Harry mimicking them as best he could whilst clapping his hands.

“CAPTAIN ROGERS!”

Steve blinked, looked at Katie, his mouth dropping open as she burst out laughing at the look of utter confusion and perplexment on his face. She pushed the door open further and all the kids turned to see their parents watching them. But instead of stopping, they continued to sing even louder at Steve as he folded his arms and leaned against the door frame.

“Saluting a hello and killing Nazis…” Emmy continued

“CAPTAIN ROGERS!”

“If patriotism be something you wish…”

“CAPTAIN ROGERS!”

By this point Katie was laughing that hard she couldn’t breathe. She doubled over, tears pouring from her face as the kids continued their relentless serenade to their father.

“Then throw a big shield and punch with your fist…”

“CAPTAIN ROGERS!”

That was it. Steve couldn’t keep his face straight any longer and he too started to laugh, grinning as Rori ran over to him and pulled on his hands dragging him into the room to make him twirl her round.

Eventually the song stopped and the room was simply filled with laughter which died down. Steve wiped his eyes and looked at his kids before he crossed his arms.

“You’re all grounded.” he smirked, and then ran as they started pelting him with throw cushions.

****

Later that night, as always, Steve couldn’t stop his eyes from roving his wife’s body as she walked out of the en-suite and into the bedroom, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of sleep shorts ready for bed. As he lounged on top of the duvet, back propped up against the headboard, his gaze travelled down the lines of her body and he frowned as he spotted something on her thigh that looked different.

Suddenly it dawned on him what it was.

“Is that…is that a new tattoo?” Steve sat up, looking at her leg then to her face, and back again.

“Technically it’s an addition to an existing one.” Katie grinned as she made her way to the bed and knelt up in front of Steve. His hands gently fell to her hips as he examined the new ink. The area surrounding one of the 4 stars that formed part of the original tattoo had been shaded with red and gold in a water colour effect. He didn’t need her to explain, but she did anyway.

“That’s for Tony.” she said softly, “And these…” she pointed out 4 additional stars she’d had placed within the existing design “One for each of the kids.”

“Not one for me?” he eventually pouted playfully, looking back up at her.

She bit her lip and grinning slightly, pulled his shirt over her head leaving her top half naked, and she turned her torso slightly the left, holding her arm over her breasts so he could see. His eyes widened as he saw the design that was now etched onto her skin just underneath her left breast on her rib cage.

It was his wings. The wings he had worn on his helmet. The wings adopted by the Howlies as their symbol in the war. And above that sat a star that was the same as the others on her thigh.

“That’s for you…” she said softly.

Steve was struggling for words. There was something he was finding outrageously sexy about the fact she’d had that placed somewhere that no one would really see other than him. And something ridiculously sentimental about the design she had chosen.

“Do you like it Soldier?” she asked softly, biting her lip.

He looked up at her, smiling as his hands gripped her bare waist and he pulled her down with him so she was led on top of him. “I love it.”

“I love you…” she grinned, melting into his arms as his hands ran up her bare back, her nose nudging his softly.

“Back at ya pretty girl.” he smirked, before his lips claimed hers in a heated kiss.

 **Original Posting**

[snarkwrites]

01 | upside down, steve harrington ; stranger things

Notes:

Guess who fell head first into binging Stranger Things? Again? Yep. This bitch. And I kind of came up with this at some point during. I’ve been dancing around writing a Stranger Things fic for a while, but here I go I guess?

A few big cautions up front... There will be things that change/differ from the fic and the show. I’m gonna sort of loosely follow the timeline set forth. But I will be changing a few things here and there. I mean, if enough people enjoy this that I feel like writing more to it, idk yet... We shall see.

I swear to God, I’m going to update my CSI fics and my Riverdale one asap. This just kind of caught me by the nose and demanded to be written...

Summary:

She moves back to Hawkins and manages to turn his life completely upside down. In the best of ways.

But how will everything play out between them? Also, can they handle all the weirdness ahead? We shall see.

Warnings:

loose canon compliance at best, total deviation at worst - this is just an up front catch all because sometimes, things happen that I don’t particularly care for (the senseless death of Barb, anybody?) and if you’re one of those canon only people, this is here to warn you that this is not the fic for you. language, occasional gore, monsters / fantasy elements, teenage drama and shenanigans - Obviously, teenagers are going to do stuff. They’re at that point in their life where not every decision they make is the best one. So if you’d rather skip over this kind of thing (teen drinking, fighting, etc) then yeah.. you’ve been warned. Slow burn / angst / mutual pining / eventual filthy good ness - because lets be real.. we’re all wondering when we’re gonna drop the plot and get to the good stuff. When this chapter occurs, I will flair it with an M. In the meantime, if you’re not into slow burn or mutual pining, then you’re probably not going to care about this.

Other Parts

[ soundtrack ] 

Other Stuff

[ faq - tag list doc ] 

Tagging:

There’s nobody on my list yet but... If you wanna be tagged for this, tell me pls. It will make me overjoyed. 

Throwing out a no pressure tag to @rampagewriting​ and @twistnet​ as well as @chasingeverybreakingwave​ just because. No pressure though bbies!

                                                            ONE

“Table six wants a burger and fries. Smothered for those fries, Jennie.” my nana’s voice shattered through my wandering thoughts. I closed the issue of Glamour I’d been reading and made my way out from behind the counter out in front, heading towards the dining area in the back. 

“Marlena quit again, Nana?” I inquired, shaking my head. Marlena quits at least once a year. Turns up a few weeks later, tanned and broke, begging for her old job back and it’s been that way since my mom and I lived here still, when I was around 6.

“Girl, what have I told you about callin me Nana?” my grandmother asked, laughing softly as she nodded. “Yeah. Said she’s headin out to California this time. Thinks she’s gonna be the next Brooke Shields.”

“Broke Shields is more like it.” I mumbled, taking an apron from the hanger on the wall. My grandmother spoke up again, giving me a nudge and smirking at me while nodding across the diner. “He’s baaack.”

“Nana!” I muttered, raising a hand to my mouth, giggling a little despite my best efforts not to.

“I’m just sayin is all. That boy is not comin in here for my good cookin, Jennie Bird.” my grandma shook her head and I eyed the booth where a lone Steve Harrington sat.

It’s only the thousandth time since I moved back to Hawkins in May.

And my nana is right. He’s probably not coming here for the food.

I’d just grabbed two of the orders and sent Steve’s order back to our short order cook Brett, -or the order I’m assuming was his, he always gets the same thing down to a T when he stops in, when a hand reaches out, grabbing my wrist.

I nearly jumped right outta my skin until I realized that it was Nancy grabbing my wrist and Barb laughing about it. They were sitting at our usual little booth near the window, nursing milkshakes as they waited on my upcoming 30 minute break. Just like we’ve been doing two or three times a week since May.

Come to think of it, it’s around that time that Steve started coming in too. I shoved the thought out of my head right around the time that Nancy and Barb noticed him. And naturally, the question arose...

“What’s Steve Harrington doing in here?” Nancy asked, glancing up at me. I eyed his table and shrugged, suck popping a cotton candy flavored bubble as I told her, “Cher, your guess is as good as mine. He’s been comin in here since I moved back.”

Nancy wiggled her brows and laughed. Barb spoke up. “My mom wanted to know if you wanted to go to the lake with us this weekend? She knows your grandmother is going out of town.”

I smiled and nodded yes, zero hesitation. After Nancy confirmed that she was going too, we made plans to go into the department store in town tomorrow afternoon to pick up some swimsuits.

Nancy’s eyes settled on my boots and she let out a low and appreciative whistle. “Are those the same boots that were in the mall last time we went? I wanted those.”

I smiled, lifting my foot so Nancy could see my boots better. Then I whirled around so she could see the fact that I’d made my favorite pair of Levis into cutoffs and sewn white cherry print fabric over the back of one of the pockets.

“I love those. I wish my mom would let me cut off my jeans.” Nancy pouted. I shrugged. “Ginger said it was cheaper than buying shorts, so I went for it. I did two other pairs too.”

“I’m bringing my old jeans over tonight.” Barb spoke up. I smiled, nodding. “Yeah. I’ll do you right up, hon.”

“I wish I tanned like you. Do you just live outside, Jennie?” Barb asked, pouting a little. I shrugged it off, laughing. Taking a deep breath as I nodded towards Steve’s booth as I gazed at my friends after finally managing to tear my eyes off of Steve. “I best get over to table six. Then I have to go pick up the bohunk’s order, I reckon.”

“What’s a bohunk?” Nancy giggled.

“Same as a himbo, I reckon.” I answered, wrinkling my brows because I didn’t actually know myself. I just knew my nana Ginger often called her long-time live-in boyfriend, Hank, the same thing and I could tell by her tone that it was a loving thing.

I made my way over to Ethel and Earl’s table, setting them up with their food. “Y’all need anything else? Just let me know. Marlena quit on us again, so I’m the server tonight.”

“We’re all set, dear!” they assured me and I made my way over to the second of the tables whose orders I’d picked up.

The next table was Jim Hopper. My mom’s ex boyfriend. He chuckled and shook his head as I approached. “I see Ginger put you right to work.”

“I put me to work, sir. I’m saving money for a Trans Am I found for sale in Rollins.” I smirked as I said it, twisting a strand of hair around my fingertip.

“Oh really now.. Let me know when you get it. So I can warn the rest of the guys and the rest of town to keep a wide berth when you’re behind the wheel.”Hopper teased, chuckling. I pretended to pout, but got him set up with the food he’d ordered before finally making my way towards the back again.

I had to walk right past Steve’s booth in the process, naturally.

I did my best to keep my eyes trained towards the front of the dining area, but Steve cleared his throat just as I walked past.

“Is tonight the night you finally say yes?” Steve flashed a grin as he asked me the question. I wanted to melt, lucky for me, common sense prevailed once again.

“Steve..” I complained, shaking my head. Pretending to pout at him.

“Aw, c’mon.” Steve chided, giving me that charmer smirk as he gazed up at me. I bit my lip, eyes locked on his, lost in the depths of his eyes for a few seconds. My nana’s calling my name had me coming back to the moment and I sighed. “I gotta go get your food, cher.”

I hurried up to the front, ignoring my nana’s pointed stare and nod as she mouthed, “Well? What’d he say, huh?”

I gave a mysterious shrug and picked up the tray containing his food. Started my journey back towards his booth. On my way over, Nancy gave me a thumbs up and Barb mouthed at me in teasing, “ Aww, you’re totally blushing right now.” to which I stuck out my tongue and shook my head no.

I was all business as I sat his food in front of him. Consulting my notepad that had his order scrawled on it in my Nana’s loopy scrawl. “That’s a loaded burger and smothered fries with a chocolate shake.” suck popping another gum bubble as I spoke.

“Yeah.” Steve answered, locking eyes with me. My hand raised, trailing over the loopy cursive of my silver necklace. I toyed with the cursive that formed my name and he chuckled, dragging his fingers through his hair, nodding to it. “You still have it, I see. The necklace, I mean...”

“Why wouldn’t I? My best friend gave it to me, cher.” I gave him a soft smile. I couldn’t resist it because believe me, I tried. I’ve been trying to resist the guy since May, actually.

“Oh. So you did think about me when you left Hawkins...Interesting. I mean… you’re still wearing the necklace I got you for your birthday...” Steve mused quietly. His eyes were absolutely fixed on me. Studying me. And I felt this warmth spreading through my entire being. Like that first sliver of sunlight on a cloudy and cool day. 

Then the calm. Be still my beating heart, the calm that took over when I dared to lock eyes with him as my own personal act of defiance. Popping another cotton candy flavored bubble as I did so. I bit my lip as I thought of the best way, read, least revealing way, to answer his question. This was venturing into very,very dangerous territory at present. Because if I said no I’d be lying and if I said yes, it would give him too much power. He’d know that maybe he was my first real crush back then. He’d know that maybe seeing him again after all this time had been like a burst of fresh air and somehow, felt as if maybe he’d taken all the air from me at the same time.

It was a huge risk. Huge.

“Maybe.” - it was the only word that would come presently. Blondie crooning Call Me from the old jukebox sitting at the back of the dining area shattered through the heavy lingering silence that followed immediately behind my answer. In a rush, I told him quietly, “I have other tables.”

“You’ve been on your feet all afternoon, little red. C’mon. Sit?” Steve nodded to the empty bench across from him.

I scoffed at him over my shoulder. Giving him a sweet but firm shake of the head no and smile. “As much as I’d love to sit, romeo. Sitting’s not what’s gonna put that sweet fire engine red Trans Am in my nana’s driveway by August.”

He pouted and called out as I walked away, “ I’m not giving up.”

This earned him giggles from the booth I usually filled with Nancy and Barb when I took my 30 minute break.

As I walked by them, Nancy teased out loud, “ Awww, look Barb! She’s blushing.”

“I am not.” I pretended to be offended by the suggestion. Mouthing to both of them as I fanned myself with some napkins in teasing and nodded in Steve’s direction, “Whew...He has gotten… Intense.” 

“That’s Hawkin High’s big man on campus.” Barb informed me. I went to clock out for my break and came back with a Diet Pepsi, flopping across the booth across from then. Someone put 867-5309 on to play on the jukebox and I grumbled through closed lids, “I hate that fuckin song.”

Naturally, Barb and Nancy started to sing along. Loudly.

I pouted at them both as I rose to a sitting position.

Steve wandered over, flopping himself down in the empty spot next to me. “Ladies.”

“You’re not at Hagan’s party?” Barb asked, a brow raised.

“Yeah, why aren’t you at Tommy’s party?” Nancy asked, shooting me a covert teasing smile.

Steve shrugged. Took a long sip of his chocolate milkshake, slurping it through the straw noisily. I eyed it.

“I’d kill for a strawberry one right now.” I mused, gazing at the cup in his hand. He muttered quietly, “It’s not strawberry, but…”  as he held it out.I eyed the styrofoam cup and him. Biting my lip.

Nancy and Barb were gazing at me intently. Teasing gleam in their eyes.

I sighed and reached out for it, taking a few sips. Holding it back out to him.

“I was there. Got bored. I like the scenery better here anyway.” Steve answered finally, shrugging.

“So you enjoy spending your Friday night in a diner packed with old people..” I muttered, locking eyes with him. Swallowing hard when I found him staring at me already. 

He chuckled, shaking his head no. “I said I liked the scenery here, little red. Not the dining company. If you’d say yes and let me buy you a burger sometime…” he smiled at me as he went quiet.

I felt Nancy and Barb both fix their eyes on me.

“We’ll see.” I answered, shrugging mysteriously and smiling at him as  I did so. I wanted to say yes so bad it was killing me, but given that I know the history of my grandmother and my mother, I was… Definitely erring on the side of caution.

Besides.. It makes things interesting when you play hard to get. I guess I figure that if Steve gets bored and moves on, then it’s better than agreeing, falling head over feet, making any number of bad life choices that seem to plague the women in my family and ultimately, winding up heart broken.

Call me a hopeless romantic. Overly cautious. I just want to wait until I know something is a sure thing before I dive in over my head. I want something that’s going to last a while. Not be this intense and scary whirlwind that starts off strong and ends just as fast as it began.

“Hey, were we all going to go for a swim later? Figured it was hot enough. Besides, Ginger and Hank are going to Rollins later. They won’t be back until 2. Or two days from now.” I mused, glancing from Nancy to Barb.

“Sleepover in the treehouse?” Barb suggested. Nancy nodded, giving me begging eyes. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. It’ll be like when we were little.” 

“That’s actually not a bad idea!” I smiled, laughing.

After we all made our plans for the night, they left to go back into town and this left me with ten minutes in my break. Alone in a booth with Steve Harrington.

Hot Blooded came on the jukebox in back of the dining area and I grinned. Humming along with the song as I eyed the last of Steve’s fries. He chuckled, shoving them in front of me.

“You won’t let me buy you your own food… Yet you’ll eat mine.”

“Mhm.” I answered, dragging a french fry through gravy. Taking a bite thoughtfully. Groaning at the taste of the food because I realized just how hungry I actually was.

Steve chuckled, gazing at me. “Do I need to leave you two alone?”

I felt his arm go around the back of the booth. Brushing right against my shoulder. Normally, I’d politely move a little. But if I’m being totally honest here, I’m tired. So tired of fighting the way I feel. I managed to stop myself from resisting the urge to lean against his side though.

“That’s not so bad, is it?”

I sighed and gazed over at him. Smiling. “It’s not.”

From the kitchen, my nana called my name. Steve stood and I slipped out of the booth, making my way back. Clocking back in so I could finish waiting tables. By the time I’d done four more tables and was counting my tips for the night, Steve wasn’t sitting in the dining area anymore.

“You be careful getting home tonight, Jennie Bird.”

“Yes Nana.”

I didn’t have to look at her to know she was giving me a playful dirty look at what I’d called her. She sighed, the sound giving way to soft laughter. “Maybe get that handsome little beau of yours to give you a lift.”

“Nope. Absolutely not.”

“You are the most stubborn..” my grandmother teased gently, laughing as she shook her head.

I clocked out for the night, stepping out into the parking lot after counting down the drawer in the gas station area out front. Steve was standing outside, leaned against the cinderblock wall, his thumb hooked through his belt loop. Smoking a cigarette.

I glanced around to make sure my grandmother and her boyfriend weren’t looking or anything and I stopped beside him. Speaking up quietly. “Do you think you have another one of those?”

He chuckled, digging around in his pocket, producing a slightly crushed pack of Marlboro Reds. I took one and as I pressed it between my lips, he dug out a silver lighter and cupped his hands around the end, lighting my cigarette for me.

“You’re not afraid your grandmother’s gonna see?” Steve teased, grinning at me.

I laughed, shrugging as I exhaled, a plume of smoke creeping upwards into the sunset. “It’s more tame than her special brownies. I know for a fact it’s a thousand times tamer than anything my mom did at my age. I just don’t openly do it all the time around her because it’s a respect thing.”

“Ah. I get it, I think.” he nodded.

We stood there quietly. Staring up at the sky as the sun dipped lower. I really didn’t want to walk away, but one of us had to. I smiled, nodding towards the road. “I should probably get going.”

“I can drive you.” Steve offered.

“I’m fine. It’s only like a mile up the road.” I answered, swallowing hard. Dangerously close to caving, yet again. It’s getting so hard not to cave lately where he’s concerned and that kind of makes me panic just a little, truth be told.

“Yeah, but it’s getting late. And your feet have to be killing you by now.” he nodded to my boots. I shrugged, flashing him a smirk. “You’re a charmer, Steve.” I muttered as I rose up on my toes, fluffing his hair before stepping away, then turning to walk across the gravel parking lot and towards the road.

His BMW slowed to a stop beside me and he rolled down the window just as I started to walk towards my grandmother’s house. “C’mon.”

I eyed the car.

Then glanced at the road stretched out ahead. My feet were throbbing in these stupid boots because they weren’t broken in completely. I dragged my fingers through my hair, mulling it over.

“Take me straight home?”

“Anything you want, Jennie.” Steve promised, smiling at me. “Scouts honor.”

“You are a lot of things… Somehow I doubt boy scout was one of them, you charmer. Okay, fine.” I gave in, going around to the passenger side of the car and getting in.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he teased gently. I stuck out my tongue at him and reached for the dial on his radio until I found something other than his preferred usual pop station. He chuckled to himself, reaching out to lower the volume. “I missed you.”

“Aw, be still my beating heart.” I pretended to swoon. But something about the look in his eyes had me feeling like all the air escaped my lungs. Giddy. Lightheaded. And yet, underneath it all, that sense of calm.

The rest of the drive to my grandmother’s house was quiet. The air between us filled with this heavy and almost electric tension. Like I was waiting on something to happen, I just didn’t know what.

He pulled to a stop behind Hank’s beat down old Chevrolet truck and I went to open the door on the passenger side. I was about to get out, when he stopped me. “Same time Thursday?”

I smiled, nodding at him as I shut the  door to his BMW and started towards my front door on very shaky legs. Once I was inside, I pulled off my boots and flopped down on the sofa, letting out several long and shaky breaths.

“Heaven help me. That guy is… Something.” I drawled. Resting until I heard Barb and Nancy knocking at my grandmother’s door. I got up to let them in and we went upstairs to find towels to take down to the river with us.

Then we set off, walking through the woods. Laughter and conversation echoing in the night around us. Diving into the cold water with ear splitting shrieks. Splashing at each other noisily.

 We flopped onto our towels on the bank, gazing up at the stars as they started to come out. 

“I can’t believe summer’s almost over.” Barb lamented, shaking her head. “It seriously feels like school just ended.”

“I don’t want to go back to school yet. Yuck.” Nancy agreed, shaking her head. “I mean there’s another month and a half but it’s flying by too fast.”

“At least we got a few classes with each other. I’m dreading starting at a new school. I mean it’s not new, but still..” I sat up, facing the two of them.

“It won’t be that bad. You’ve got us.” Barb pointed out and I smiled, nodding. “Yeah, you’re right. It won’t be that bad.” I echoed her statement.

“Hey, Jennie?”

“Yeah, Nan?”

“Why won’t you just give in to Steve. It’s not exactly a secret you like him.” Nancy eyed me expectantly.

I mulled it over, shrugging. “Guess it’s just the fear I have that I’ll give in and then everything will go wrong and I’ll wind up losing my friend too.”

The truth was… so much more complex than that. And I couldn’t even begin to explain it to myself, let alone my two best friends. 

“I will say this much though.” I started, going quiet for a second or two and taking a deep breath, speaking up again after, “It’s getting harder to fight it off. I mean when I moved back here and we ran into each other again, that old crush came back and it came back ten-fold. Enough about my weird hangups.. Is there some reason you’re not finally going for it with Jonathan?” I eyed Nancy expectantly.

“Every time I try it’s like my brain freezes? I don’t know, okay?” she laughed, shaking her head about it. Barb smirked. “Both of you are cowards.”

“Excuse… Says the girl who almost threw up because Logan, the guy she likes, winked at her on the bus back from an away game?” Nancy teased and Barb scowled at her, sticking out her tongue. “I’ll have you know, ha freaking ha, Logan is actually taking me to a movie on Friday.”

“Oh?” Nancy eyed her, wiggling her brows.

“Oh my god, details.” I spoke up, tapping my foot as I gave her an expectant look. Barb launched into the whole thing and I smiled softly, content to listen. Catching up on what I’d missed in being gone so long.

“Y’all. We need to get back down to my nana’s. It’s getting dark thirty.” I stood, reaching down to grab hold of Barb’s hand, pulling her off the bank of the river. Barb pulled Nancy up and the three of us went running through the wood and back towards my grandmother’s house.

Once we got there, we ordered pizza and went out to the old treehouse we used to play in out back to set up for the night. 

And at one point, we wound up playing Truth or Dare.

And naturally, the first dare I was given was to say yes if Steve Harrington asked me out again…

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Wednesday 13 November 1839

8 ½

12 50/..

dullish morning F61 ½° on my table = R+13° - at 10 5/.. breakfast and over at 11 – then at Russian Grammar till professor Fischer came about 12 ¼ and staid till 1 10/.. – gave me 5 little mineralogical specimens – 2 of mellite – zircon – dioptase – and grenat – I have now de sa part

Fischer

Calaite vulg. turquoise de Firousa en Perse (received Saturday 9 November along with the 4 brochures)

Dioptase Hauy. des steppes de Kirguises entre Orenbourg and Boukhara. très rare.

Kupfermaragd Wern. Ascherite des Russes. (vid. Brard p. 382).

Gisement dans la craie.

Zircon de l’Oural.

Mellithe, mellilithe, de Hedra à Mansfeld.

---------,-------------- de Arsem in Franken

Olyntholithe de Fischer. Grossularia, wern. Aplorne, Laugier. d’ochotsk.

ολυνθος  grossus. from a fancied resemblance of the shape of the crystal to a gooseberry.

F- wrote my name in the 4 brochures – will try to get me a copy of his oryctognosie a large work – printed at his own expense and given to his friends – also a copy of his music adapted to the odes of Horace particularly lib.ii. Odes 10 and 14 – had no copies of them himself – they are in his head – no copy of ode 22. lib. 1 – singularly clever agreeable man – proposed our dining chez lui next Sunday after seeing the Electro – galvanic experiments – and proposed presenting Mr. Evans – I declined the latter as civilly as I could – saying as well as I could that really our connaissances were now so numerous and we had so little time for study, and it was so little in our power to shew any attention to anyone, that we really begin se rétrécir – but that Mr. Evans was chez les Orloffs and we might perhaps see him – that if it was in our power to make any tour worthy of a botanist we should wish Mr. Alexander F- to accompany if that were possible – all this was awkward but Mr. F- was very considerate et poli etc. and said no more on the subject – Poor Mr. E-! Mr. Camidge, too, mentioned him as an Oxford man and very clever – one of the cleverest men here – but we can shew him no useful civility – we have no time for deep study – and it does not quite enter into

to seek the acquaintance of Anglo Russian private tutors – F- said the great cold is the end of December and beginning of January – will give us a letter to the head of the university? M. Erdmann? at Kazan who has been at Boukhara, and can give us all the necessary renseignmens – all steppe from Orenbourg to B- not much for botany or mineralogy – have just written so far now at 2 25/.. – dark day but fair must go out – out at 3 10/.. – walked 40 minutes and home before 4 – but so dark, it must have been later – in fact, my Perrelet watch is beginning to go wrong again – not worth much nowadays – walked about the salon and salle à manger ½ hour – dressed – dinner at 6 ¼ to 7 - .:. it must have been 5 instead of 4 when we returned from our walk only 2 turns on the boulevard – at Russian grammar till 8 5/.. then tea chez la princesse and staid till 10 ½ when she had finished her supper – Princess Dalgorouky there aet. about 26 – très spirituelle – charmante personne – fine eyes – at Baden Baden last summer and at Rome last winter – a crowd of English nobility – duke of Devonshire – Shrewsburys etc. etc. the Shrewsbury daughters (Ladies Talbot) one fair, the other dark, beauty, have married the 2 best matches in Italy – prince Doria very rich – and prince Borghese also very but not so rich – hardly a lodging to be had in Rome this winter, again all taken by the English – princess D- very civil – glad to make my acquaintance – we shall exchange calls, and then princess R- [?] will find their house very agreeable – do not give large parties – but very agreeable – princess R- asked us to dinner tomorrow at 4 – and I think we shall change [?] [?] – nobody there tonight but ourselves princess D- (bad health – went away soon after 9 – smoked a cigar .:. so did I) and the old English Ouroufoss lady – very agreeable evening – Esclavage a benefit to people – a loss rather than gain to the Nobility – the peasants belong to the land rather to the landlord – cannot be sold in detail – against the law – it was done 20 or 30 years ago; but it was then done arbitrarily – and now the government would interfere – it could not be done – this not understood by foreigners who know little of Russia – even the E. of A- asked whether Sarskoe [?] and Pavlosk were near Moscow or Petersburg! – princess R- animated and eloquent and belle ce soir (après la départ de la princesse D-) en parlant sur ces sujets – Quelle belle femme! all right again tonight   my potheration last night and today   was all from mere vain imagining   but I will be circumspect in future – stood talking to A- 25 minutes till 10 55/.. then wrote the last 20 lines till now 11 20/.. at which hour F55° on my table, and R+2 ½° = F39°

or 20s.

[emeraldtawny]

Satan x Fem!MC: A Foreign Heat

...I started this like 4 months ago and have only now just finished it oTL I hope you enjoy this 10k slow burn, friends-to-lovers style fic because wow this boi deserves soft love ;;w;;

This is also up on AO3 right here if you wished to leave kudos or the like uwu

Anyways, hope you enjoy~ :3

~

Rage is not a foreign concept to Satan; if it was, it would leave his title as the Avatar of Wrath quite redundant. That heat that flares up inside of him, that suffocating, clawing anger that makes his teeth clench and his blood boil, is such a familiar sensation to him that it feels wrong when that flame dwindles. Suffice it to say, being consumed by the flames of rage is what Satan is used to. It’s what he knows.

So when that flame wavers, he’s almost at a loss. 

He remembers his first impression of her. She was, well, nothing special. Maybe an occasional aid to his boredom if she was near. He didn’t spare her any more of his thoughts than necessary, because he didn’t deem her worthy enough of his attention. He scowls at himself whenever he remembers that thought process, that mightier-than-thou mentality reminding him of a certain demon that shall not be named.

He’s glad that he thinks differently now. He’s glad that he gave this human girl a chance to prove herself. Because now, he thinks that he quite enjoys her company.

… Yes, he quite likes it.

“Satan?” 

He’s pulled from his reverie of the past and back into the present, the very focus of his thoughts sitting beside him. Her head tilted quizzically and her eyes trained on him, she waits patiently for him to respond. When he focuses his attention on her, she sighs out her query. 

“I’m having a bit of trouble with this passage. I don’t understand what it’s asking of me.”

He feels the corner of his lips quirk up at the perplexion on her face, seemingly enjoying her mild distress for the upcoming exam on Applied Magic. He sets his own book down and leans closer to read over her shoulder.

“Ah, Incantations and Curses. I can’t say I’m surprised this is tripping you up.”

She taps the side of her pen against her textbook, her lips pressing together and out into a pout. He has to school his features to keep himself from grinning at her endearing display of dismay, his eyes pretending to scan over the book while his peripherals work to keep her in his sights.

“This isn’t a normal thing to learn in the Human World, yet they teach it to us like it’s common knowledge.” She sees his lips begin to move to rebut her, but she beats him to the mark, “I know it’s common knowledge here in the Devildom, but that just makes it so unfair for those unfamiliar with magic.”

A huffed laugh escapes Satan’s nose as a puff of air. “Unfortunately for you, ‘those unfamiliar with magic’ constitutes only humans. Are you that determined to learn?”

He meets her undivided gaze, completely forgetting of their close proximity and is only viciously reminded of the fact by how clearly he sees himself reflected in her eyes. He catches the subtle widening of his eyes in his reflection, but nothing more. Sitting before a demon, this human simply smiles.

“I am if you’re the one teaching me.”

He blinks, forgetting his prized vocabulary for a moment as he loses himself in her earnest gaze. If he didn’t know any better, he would believe she was mocking him with her kindness. But he knew of her genuineness and he knew not to dismiss it so quickly. He leans back in his seat, clearing his throat simultaneously to fill the silence and to restart his brain.

“I guess we can arrange a study session if you think it will help.”

Her smile directed at him grows, her eyes lighting up and, for just a moment, Satan swears that the warmth coursing through his body feels... different. His attempt to follow that train of thought is cut off by her D.D.D. buzzing once, twice, thrice, to tell her she has a text.

She hesitates, casting a look his way to gain permission. He sighs in response.

“Mammon?”

She checks her phone quickly. “Levi. New expansion in Mononoke Land.”

He doesn’t seem to realise that he’s smiling as he says, “I suppose we’ve done enough studying for one day.”

She instantly relaxes, “Thanks. I’ll message you later about that pre-test study session.”

“I look forward to it.”

Grinning at his words, she begins to pack away her things. All the while, Satan finds himself unable to look away from her, a slight frown marring his lips.

The questions swimming through his mind irk him; why does her smile make him lose his words so successfully? And, more curiously, why does he want her to smile if that’s the effect it has on him? He found it bizarre.

The quick tap of a pen against the desk brings him back once again and he blinks up at her face, thankfully with a little more distance between them to keep his thoughts grounded.

“What?”

“Are you alright? You seem a bit spaced out.”

This troublesome human, only vigilant when she shouldn’t be, Satan thinks to himself dryly.

He smiles his usual smile, about as real as Mammon’s financial independence. “Same as always. Tired from reading, most likely.” he lies effortlessly.

“If you’re sure…” She hesitates before gracing him with a shy smile, one he can’t quite pinpoint the message beneath, “I’ll see you later, then.”

With a tiny wave, she readjusts the bag on her shoulder, lifts her phone to her ear and heads off, and Satan can’t help rolling his eyes sympathetically at her unhurried “okay, okay” as she no doubt addresses Levi through her phone. 

Alone and without distraction, his thoughts should return to him again, unbidden. And they do, but only of her. 

His fingernail connects with the wood of the desk as he taps his finger against it, his eyebrows pinched together and his lips opening to release a sigh into the air around him.

Even the book beneath him cannot distract him from the prospect of when he’ll next see her.

~

Days went by and things remained the same. It was exam period at the Academy, so Satan concludes that must be what has him so on edge… despite all previous years going smoothly and without incident. And also being aware that these feelings started shortly after she had arrived. 

He shakes his head at the thought.

No, that IS the reason why I can’t focus as well as usual. Nothing more, nothing less, nothing else.

He was certain that if he was an outsider looking in on his situation, he would be snickering at himself, baffled at how desperate he is to ignore the elephant in the room. He lets a silent sigh exhale through his nostrils - his fifth one of the evening - and returns to flipping through his latest novella, his dinner going untouched. He hardly flinches at the doors of the dining room bursting open and the loud voices accompanying it; sounds he has long since learned to block out.

“Whad’ya just say to me, huh?! Say it again, I dare ya!”

“I’ll say it however many times I have to to get the message through your thick skull: absolutely NOT!”

“C’moooon! It’s quick and easy cash! You’ll be rollin’ in dough faster than you can say ‘Wow, Mammon! I knew you were right!’. It’ll be too good to be true!”

“Usually when things are too good to be true, it’s because they are.” Satan pipes up, not even bothering to glance at another one of his brothers’ infinite arguments.

“Thank you, Satan. Finally, a voice of REASON in this room!” Asmodeus sighs, the sound both forlorn and dramatic. “I swear, such gorgeous bronze skin loses its charm when the person who wears it has about as many brain cells as my pinky finger.”

“Gr...Yeah, well! … Shut up!!” 

The chair scrapes loudly against the floor as it’s forcefully pulled out to seat the exasperated Avatar of Greed, his grumbles unintelligible as he reaches across the table to pile his plate high with food. Another chair is pulled back from the table - much more delicately - as Asmo grabs his own food. After a moment, he hums in thought.

“Where’s ___? I thought she was in charge of cooking dinner tonight.”

“She said that she wanted to study more for the upcoming exams, so she left as soon as she finished cooking.” Satan flips another page of his book as he replies, all of his conscious efforts focused on remaining flippant in his demeanour.

“Awww, our little human is awfully diligent, isn’t she? But that means I don’t get to see her adorable little face over dinner. She’d be much more delicious than this, I’m sure.”

Satan didn’t need to look at his brother to know he was smirking, his eyes likely alight with whatever lustful fantasy he was conjuring up and acting out in his mind. 

He’d hardly ever bat an eye at it. But now? Now, a sudden swell of fire pumps through his blood and makes his lips twitch in distaste.

“Not while I’m eating, Asmo!” Mammon somehow manages to muffle out around a mouthful of food, “Show some class, why don’t cha?”

His remark provokes an apathetic blink and an unenthused stare from Asmo. “You are the last person in the universe who is allowed to lecture me on class. Besides, don’t act innocent. I know that you’ve thought about her that way.”

That causes Mammon to swallow mid-chew, sending him into a coughing fit as he desperately beats at his chest to dislodge the choking hazard. He swallows again and gasps for air unnecessarily loud.

“Y-you can’t just say shit like that while I’m swallowing my damn food, y’know!”

“You’re not denying it, hm?” Asmo rests his elbow on the table and cradles his chin in his palm, grinning at his older brother squirming under his gaze.

“Of course n--NAH! I’d never think of a… a HUMAN like that! Nuh-uh! No way!”

Satan feels his fingers tightening around the book in his hands, his eyes practically burning through the page yet not reading a single letter printed onto the paper.

“But, why not? She’s such a beautiful young woman. Any man, or demon, would have to be blind or completely ignorant to not see what a sexy little thing she is~”

Words no longer process in Satan’s mind, the only sound in his head a high-pitched scream from a kettle way past its boiling point. He barely registers how tightly he exudes pressure on the book he holds, nor does he notice how he’s one lip twitch away from snarling in carnal rage. 

What he does register, however, is the distinct sound of paper ripping. As do his brothers.

He crashes abruptly back into reality, the sight of Mammon’s and Asmo’s astonished faces greeting him. Dazed confusion turns into speechlessness when he turns his eyes down to where they’re looking. His novella, previously in peak condition, now sits split neatly in two, the spine of the book ripped perfectly down the middle and each half held tightly in Satan’s hands.

No one says a word, each demon brother parroting the other with their wide-eyed stares and inability to speak. Until the doors swing open to shatter the silence.

“Man, I’m hungry…”

Oblivious to what he just walked into, Beel walks up and grabs the entire plate in the centre of the table, bringing it in front of him as he takes his seat. Satan rises to his feet just as Beel gets off of his.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Hm? Alright. Are you going to eat your plate?”

He leaves without answering, his footsteps quick yet levelled as he flees the scene, the evidence of his lost control still held tightly in both hands. 

Two demons speechless, one demon oblivious, and the other acutely aware that he can’t ignore this any longer.

~

                     ___: Satan? 

                    ___: Satan, please answer me

                    ___: ...Just a sticker or something 

                    ___: Anything? 

He reads each bubble popping up on his lock screen, but makes no attempt to reply. Leaning back against one of the multiple bookshelves in his bedroom, Satan has long since given up on the mystery novel in front of him, his phone now sitting between the pages as his new reading material.

The device vibrates again and another message comes through.

                    ___: If you’re busy, I understand. But can you let me know if we’re still okay to study together?

That’s right, he muses to himself, she wanted my help. 

With a heavy inward sigh, he sits up straighter and grabs his phone, swiping it open and tapping through to send a reply.

                    Satan: Busy. Ask the others.

As much as I want to, I don’t think I should see you right now.

Instant regret plagues him as soon as he hits send, his stomach shrinking and dropping like a stone in water, sending ripples of guilt and unease through him. He drops his phone carelessly to the side and glares up at the light fixing like it will somehow burn away these alien feelings within him.

Yet through the guilt of letting her down, he’s angry. Angry at himself for letting this happen, for not seeing this coming until it was too late. 

A powerless, frail little human did this to him? The devil on Satan’s shoulder laughs at his pitiful state; oh, the irony.

“What a mess…” He sighs out into the empty room, the literature his only audience. He looks down at his D.D.D., its screen black and lifeless and he curses himself for holding out hope that she’d even reply to him.

So when the screen lights up and dances along to its ringtone, her name dead centre, he almost smacks his head back against the bookshelf with how quickly he straightens up. He grabs his phone and stares at the screen, his mind running so fast that the vibrations from his phone feel numb in his hand.

I shouldn’t answer… I really shouldn’t.

Her expression from their last study session materialises in his mind’s eye, that sweet, shy smile he hopes that she only shows to him. He clenches his phone tight in his palm and, with a frustrated inhale and an equally frustrated exhale, he accepts the call.

“... H-hello.”

Damn his voice for faltering.

“No.”

He blinks at the assertive punch behind that single syllable.

“Um, what?”

“No, I won’t ask the others. Because right now, I’m more worried about a certain demon that has apparently shut himself in his room without explanation.”

Satan sighs in quiet annoyance and judging by the soft sigh from her end, he didn’t mask it well enough. “I’m just studying. It’s nothing for you to be concerned over.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. And I judge that you are very obviously lying.”

He props his knee up and lets his free arm rest on it whilst the hand that holds his phone taps its index finger against the device, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Exhibit A: You’ve been acting weird lately. And it’s not because exams are coming up.”

“Your proof?” he counters.

“I asked your brothers about your behavioural patterns around stressful school-related events, which would include exam and test periods. Every single one said that you don’t act how you’re acting right now. And if six of your brothers isn’t enough proof, I got similar responses from the likes of Barbatos and Diavolo.”

The assurance behind her words gives him pause, himself not expecting to be caught so cleanly in his lie.

“Exhibit B:” she continues, “What’s this about you ripping a book in half at dinner?”

His eyebrow twitches, as do the fingers around his phone.

“Who told you?” He doesn’t mean to come across as hostile as he does. Thankfully, she brushes it off without taking offence.

“Mammon. He was telling everyone how you ‘lost the plot’.”

“Hehehe.” The grin that accompanies his laugh is anything but jovial, “I’m going to have a LOT of fun hunting him down for that.”

Her sigh wrought with worry pulls Satan back from the brink of his sadism. He pictures what expression she’d be making right this second; her eyebrows likely pulled taut, a slight crinkle above her nose its byproduct. Maybe she’s biting her lip the same way she does when she’s fretting over the simplest of things; the thought that she’d be that concerned for him touched him, though he would seldom admit it so quickly.

“And finally, Exhibit C: … me.”

“Y-you...?” He barely recognises his voice with how unsurely it leaves his lips.

“You really think you can pull the wool over my eyes that easily? I may be a human, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

Satan’s nose scrunches up with his confused frown and he bites back, despite himself. “What makes you so sure that something’s wrong with me? You don’t know what I’m thinking, so don’t pretend like you do.”

“I’m not pretending to know, I’m asking you to tell me. And of course I’d notice when something’s wrong with you. I-”

She stops, her breath hitching slightly as she kills the words she was about to utter. She sighs again, a sigh of exasperation.

“Just let me be worried over someone I care about, okay?”

Silence. Her words play in Satan’s mind again despite him just hearing them, seemingly in disbelief.

The suffocating heat of rage, its smoke clawing at his lungs and its flames boiling his blood, is displaced by a calmer, more mellow warmth, akin to a bath run just a tad too hot; warm enough to lose yourself in the feeling, but hot enough to pool your skin in sweat and linger through your body.

Is she feeling this, too? This heat - a cold respite compared to the heat Satan is used to - that’s somehow both addicting yet stifling. It leaves him unsure of whether to draw near or pull away. The only thing he’s sure of is how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

A laugh. His laugh. Short and punctuated, yet relieving of the weight bearing down on his shoulders in an instant.

“Satan?” she calls out in worry.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I just… realised how childish I was being. I’m sorry for speaking to you in that manner. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“I deserve a little bit of it for prying. I was just worried. But, you seem better already, so I’m glad.”

Her smile translates so purely through her words that it’s only natural for Satan’s lips to curl upward as well.

“You really didn’t give me any room to argue, did you? That was cruel.”

“I learned from the best, and from his mystery novel and crime show recommendations.”

They both chuckle softly at that, both of their hearts aching in relief to be back in their normal routine. After a pause, she speaks again, her concern clear.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You know I’m here to talk to whenever you need, right?”

His smile twitches slightly, the bittersweet irony threatening to ruin the calm around them.

Kinda hard to talk to you about it when you’re the cause of all of this...

“Yeah, I’m fine. But if I’m ever not, I’ll tell you.”

I’ll tell you that you’re why I’m acting like this. But only when I can find the right words.

Until that moment comes, Satan sits contently as he talks with her, the warmth surrounding him ebbing and flowing like the waves of a tide.

~

“Well? Come on, don’t leave us suspended in, uh… suspense! How’d ya go?”

“Hopefully better than you in a basic understanding of the English language LMAOOO.”

“Says the nerd who speaks in text! Can it, Levi!”

“I’m curious, too.”

“Mmm, mmpf ammff mmmmpff.”

“Beel said he wants to know how you went, too.”

“Well, ___? Don’t keep us all waiting.”

Six of the brothers lean in close, waiting with trepidation for her next words. The one brother yet to speak simply stares expectantly at her, his hand in a fist and pressing his green thumbnail against his lips, his normally indifferent demeanour abnormally showcasing of his own anticipation.

She meets each of their gazes individually before looking to her feet and wringing her hands together. Asmo’s face falls, while both Lucifer and Satan’s expressions harden, expecting the worst. The others simply wait, not willing to believe her signals.

And, sure enough, she raises her head with gusto and breaks out into a triumphant grin.

“Nailed it! Top 10 in every exam!”

What wonderful hype-demons she has, their cheers filling the air and perfectly illustrating her own glee. Asmo places his hand over his heart with a heavy breath, as if it was about to give out.

“You sneaky little-! You can’t toy with us like that, ___. We were all worried about you!”

She sends a grin his way, currently preoccupied with accepting endless high-fives from Mammon and a back hug from Beel, “Guess I couldn’t help myself.”

She yelps and laughs as Beel’s hug lifts her off the ground with a spin, Levi and Belphie pulling her free only to entrap her in a congratulatory hug themselves. Away from the fray, Lucifer hums out a short laugh, his arms crossed in their usual fashion.

“I suppose your little prank can be forgiven for this occasion. You did well, ___.”

Gently pulling herself free from her hug sandwich, she smiles in thanks at Lucifer, but her eyes pull her to look at the demon beside him. His fist still covering his chin, he looks as if he’s still processing the information, responseless to everything else. 

She steps closer to him. No response. 

Another step. He blinks, his eyes locking on her.

That’s all the indication she needs and she springs forward to close the last bit of distance between them, wrapping her arms around Satan’s waist in a tight hug. She giggles at the shocked little “ah” that leaves his lips unfacilitated, and desperately attempts to hold back another at the way he clears his throat pretending that didn’t just happen. His hands move to her shoulders and, for a moment, she expects him to throw her off. But his arms circle around her back instead, his hands cupping her shoulders as he returns the hug, albeit a little stiffly. She smiles into his chest, thankful for a place to hide her face.

“Thank you, Satan. You’re the reason I did so well.”

He murmurs a response, his words a mixture of perplexion and embarrassment, “I didn’t do anything except some extra tutoring.”

“But so much of what we studied was on the exam, so I’m saying it was because of you. Accept it.” she counters, punctuating her words with a squeeze.

Just before the heat overwhelming Satan breaks to the surface and threatens to consume him--

“OI, SATAN! What’s the big idea, takin’ her all for yourself?!”

She stiffens in realisation at Mammon’s shout and quickly untangles herself from him. Satan picks up on the subtle blush blossoming over her cheeks and the way he feels a sense of loss at the warmth she was giving him. That lost warmth is quickly replaced by the fire he has long since grown accustomed to, the demon striking the match this occasion - and on many MANY occasions - being Mammon.

“If you’ll recall, Mammon, she hugged me. I didn’t ‘steal’ anything if she gave it willingly.”

“Ohhhh no! You DEFINITELY stole her! And no one steals property away from THE Great Mammon! I was her first! So I naturally deserve her first, and longest, hugs!”

“Is that so?”

Mammon gulps at the chilling edge to his younger brother’s voice, only emphasised by the smile on his lips, one of murder disguised as a summer’s day. The casual clothes adorning his body dissolve as he moves towards Mammon, replacing the mellow blues and yellows with black and neon green, the tip of his tail uncoiling from around his leg to direct its pointed tip at Mammon. All the while his smile never wavering.

“Speaking of people deserving things, there was an incident that I never talked about with you. I think now’s the perfect time to go over it.”

“I-I don’t thi-GUWWAAAAAH! Le-le-let go! Don’t mess up my hai-RAAAOWOWOWOWOW!!!!”

The rest watch - some with expressions of “serves you right”, others with exasperation, but none of them surprised - as Satan drags Mammon away by his hair.

“While we wait for that to calm down,” Lucifer interjects amidst Mammon’s wailing, “How about we celebrate your accomplishment?”

“Celebrate?” she blinks curiously.

“We prepared a party for you. Whether you succeeded or not, we were gonna party regardless. We’re glad that it’s going to be a nice party, though.” Belphie smiles.

“Simeon and Luke helped us cook up a lot of food. And I held myself back, just for you.” Beel chimes in.

“Yet you still ate two-thirds of the table...” Asmo sighs out.

“Let’s get this started so it can end faster. I picked up a new game from Akuzon and I’ve got my entire night planned out to the second, as long as this all ends by twenty-two hundred hours.”

Levi maneuvers himself behind her and presses his hands against her back to push her hastily towards the party, the rest following close behind. However, she can’t help but turn her head back to where Satan dragged his brother away, a smile creeping onto her lips as she remembers how he stiffened in her arms and hugged her with more tenderness than anyone can imagine a demon could muster. As the party kicks into high gear, she waits patiently for the one who will truly start the party for her.

…

A room almost completely trashed, enough food to be classified as its own country consumed (mainly by one demon), and the promise of headaches that will persist through all of tomorrow…

“I’d say that party was a rousing success!” Asmo announces, looking oddly pleased from his position sprawled over Levi’s lap, the latter too busy playing on his Ninterrordo Switch to notice.

“It was a success at creating the biggest mess yet.” Lucifer sighs, his headache already beginning, “Mammon, you’ll be cleaning up this entire room.”

“Wha-?! Why just me? Beel almost caused a food avalanche and Satan punched a hole in the wall! They should hafta help me!”

“I ate all of the food that fell off the table. So I’ve already cleaned up.”

“And the hole Satan made was made by YOUR head, so it’s more your fault for being an idiot and blabbing about the book incident.”

Mammon seethes silently at Beel’s and Asmo’s immediate shutdowns to his points. He looks around the room, suddenly confused.

“Speaking of, where is Satan?”

“He’s… currently compromised.” Asmo smirks.

At Mammon’s eyebrow raise, he points his finger to the side and everyone turns to look. Leaning against the wall with his legs crossed, Satan stares down at his phone in an obvious attempt at distraction. But his eyes keep darting to his side, incredibly conscious of the weight of a human head on his shoulder, using him for comfort as she breathes evenly in peaceful sleep.

“WHAT THE F--mmM! MMmmmMMM?!?!?!”

Mammon’s shout is cut off by Belphie’s pillow careening into his face with enough force to smack his head against the floor. He sighs as he smothers his brother’s all-too-enthusiastic shouts.

“She’s asleep. Keep it down.”

“If his shouts won’t wake her up, this putrid smell of normie jealousy will. Stupid Mammon.”

“I can hear everything you’re saying, you know.” Satan’s voice rings out, the annoyance behind his words clear. With a sigh, he pockets his phone and shifts as gently as he can to move her.

“What are you doing, Satan?”

He leaves Lucifer’s question hanging in the air, more preoccupied with slipping his arms around her upper back and under her knees to cradle her against him. After moving to his knees and then to his feet, he turns to face his brothers with her in his arms.

“Taking her to her room. I thought I could wait until she woke up naturally, but if you’re all going to keep making this much noise…”

“You don’t need to glare at us.” Asmo laughs, “She’s obviously tired from all that studying and partying. Just make sure you put her to bed like a good boy~”

Not even humouring him with a response, Satan leaves the room, acutely aware of his smirk following him out. 

His footsteps seem to echo as he trudges through the hallway, the portraits ever vigilant and watching. Her soft breaths draw his focus, her head tucked in and resting against his chest. A smile creeps onto his lips at the way her curled fingers flex and relax against her chest, almost like a cat kneading its paws. He knows he shouldn’t enjoy this, shouldn’t be watching someone sleep. But his eyes had drifted to her face before he could stop himself and there they now stay, his feet on autopilot as he makes his way to her room.

He readjusts his hold on her, eliciting a soft mumble. Satan stops, afraid that he woke her. She shifts slightly, nuzzling into his chest and resting her head against his collarbone, a breathy sigh ghosting from her lips. He shudders, his fingers tightening against her thigh on impulse, and he’s suddenly extremely thankful for his high-necked shirt, unsure of how he would have handled her breath against his bare skin. Satan scowls and hastens his pace, desperate to leave those rogue thoughts behind and get her out of his arms as soon as physically possible.

The door opens with a soft creak and he shoulders her through into her bedroom. He tuts softly at her leaving her tableside lamp on but smiles at the open book on her bed. A quick skim of the contents confirms it as one of the books he lent to her, his heart fluttering in his chest at the fact.

The bed creaks under their combined weight as he sits on its edge, his previous thoughts of putting her down as soon as possible now no louder than a whisper to his conscience. The weight of her against his legs and in his arms, the calming warmth emanating from her that leaves him oddly restless for more, the way her eyelashes flutter softly in her sleep; suddenly, all Satan wishes for is this moment to last longer than he knows it should.

Freeing his hand from underneath her legs, he rests it atop her knee and stares down at her face, her head still resting against his chest. He can feel a heat creeping onto his face - the same heat from when she hugged him and thanked him so earnestly - yet he can’t find it in himself to dislike the feeling. Hesitantly, he moves his hand and cups her cheek, his fingers and palm moulding to the shape of her face like this is where they belong.

“So warm…”

Mystified and unaware he released his inner thoughts into the open, Satan studies her face while his hand basks in her addictive warmth, his thumb greedy for more as it traces the contour of her cheekbone with the same gentle care of flipping a page. Her shoulders roll back and she leans further into his touch, turning her face into his hand. Satan stiffens at her lips brushing against his thumb, but the happy hum and subsequent deep breath she releases against his skin freeze him in place before he can pull away. 

He was right. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to handle her breath against his exposed skin.

With a thick swallow, he entertains pressing his thumb into her bottom lip. How it gives way to him so easily is fascinating and he doesn’t know if his thumb is shaking from fear of her waking up and him having to explain what he was doing, or the giddying thrill of chasing this warmth now pooling rapidly within him and begging for more. 

Satan’s breath leaves him stuttered, his eyes following the path his thumb paves over her bottom lip, so soft and so malleable to his touch. He can’t break his gaze away, afraid of the spell shattering and dragging him by the scruff back to reality if he did. He doesn’t want this to end. Just this once, he could indulge himself - he could give in to the feeling instead of fighting it, propriety be damned. All he wants at this moment is to study her lips; what they feel like, how they move, how hot they can grow, how they taste, how…

How they… taste. How… they… 

Taste.

He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, and only vaguely registers his fluttering lashes as he opens them again. But the rush of heat cascading over him and pulling him under like a riptide yanks him back to the path of reason. 

Heat bordering on scalding centres at his lips and sends pulses of heat to singe through his entire body. And at its epicentre is her lips, brushing ever so softly against his own.

The yelp that leaves Satan is strangled and confused and he jerks back, suddenly unconcerned over if he wakes her or not. He deposits her onto the bed, almost destroys the switch on the lamp turning it off and makes a break for the door. He curses his hearing for registering a soft mumble from her while he flees, as if taunting him further when she has already taken over the better part of his thoughts. 

Leaning against the closed door, Satan stands stock still, feebly attempting to process what just occurred. How did he even get that close to her? He remembers being entranced by her lips, their softness, their feeling, wanting to taste them…  

He stops before he falls too far back into his thoughts. He’s too hot - his face, his body, his… something that Asmo would be proud of. His blood is boiling for an entirely different reason other than anger. With only the paintings on the walls as his witnesses, he returns to his room on unstable legs, convincing himself that if he sleeps now, everything that happened will be nothing more than a dream.

~

Satan knows better than to repeat the same mistake twice. And he doesn’t plan on doing so. Even with every fibre of his being begging him to save face and strategically disappear until it all dies down, he knows it’s not that simple. Plus, he doesn’t want to avoid her again.

That doesn’t make this walk to the dining hall for breakfast any less daunting. His meandering pace screams hesitance, but he continues to walk forward in the hopes that each step will be easier than the last. It’s not.

He grabs the handle to the door and pushes it open before his brain has a chance to interject, his own pride too great to make him act so cowardly. However, as he steps into the dining hall, Satan is surprised to find it mostly empty. Only one other person sits idly at the long dining table, their elbows resting on the table and their fingers tented with their chin resting atop them, a small, sly grin on their lips greeting Satan as he enters.

“Hello, my dear big brother. Nice of you to join me. I was almost afraid that you’d stood me up.”

A hand on his hip and his lips pressed together with discontent, he replies, “What are you doing, Asmo?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing at all. Just wanted to have a little heart-to-heart.”

“About?”

“Don’t play dumb, Satan. You know what about.”

He stiffens slightly at the quietly admonishing tone behind Asmodeus’ words. With a sigh, he shuts the door behind him and moves to take his usual seat at the table. The two sit in silence for a moment, Satan’s eyes glued to the table and unable to meet Asmodeus’ inquiring gaze. Then, a bubbly chuckle dispels the serious air, even when Satan lifts his eyes to glare at the offender.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I just find it quite ironic,” Asmo leans in further, his smile widening, “I never thought I’d be sitting here consoling YOU. Maybe the sun will rise in the Devildom tomorrow.”

Satan returns his gaze to the table, his finger tapping against the wood in a purposefully steady pattern.

“Alright, alright.” Asmo sighs, “Joking aside, we’ve all been a bit worried about you recently, one of us especially so.”

The twitch of Satan’s finger against the table urges Asmodeus forward.

“A certain little sweetheart of a human asked us to make sure our dumb brother was taking care of himself. All of that pure warmth and concern of hers going completely to waste…”

His eyebrows furrow, but he says nothing. Asmodeus continues.

“It’s almost like she genuinely cares about him and wants the best for him. Of course, she could just be doing it out of the kindness in her heart, but she seems awfully insistent on spending more time with him than the others. Poor Levi has been throwing himself into his games even more than usual to fight back the envy he feels over that fact.”

“Is that so?”

Asmo shifts to rest his cheek on one palm, his head tilted quizzically and sighing with almost convincing perplexion. He sneaks a glance at Satan, aware of the demon fighting back a smile.

“She’s even been turning me down. ME! And I’m clearly the most beautiful demon in all of the Devildom! She must have bizarre tastes to go after a demon who rips a book in half because his brother says she’s gorgeous, and who ignores her for days because he doesn’t know how to act in front of her.”

His tongue tied, Satan can only convey his guilt and annoyance through his eyes and actions. And Asmodeus registers every single one. Dropping his hand from his chin, he clasps his hands together and leans forward onto his forearms, prompting Satan to meet his oddly serious gaze. Jewels of amber and jade pool together as their eyes meet, the less powerful demon’s gaze oddly paternal and wise compared to his usual self.

“But love and lust do that to people. It makes them do stupid things and makes them fall for stupid people.”

“...”

“Not going to deny it?”

A bitter chuckle, “I don’t have it in me to.”

“Because you have no rebuttal, right?”

Satan’s strained smile wavers slightly. He turns his head down to the table with a cynical, self-deprecating laugh before willing himself to meet Asmodeus’ eye again. “If you had tried to tell me this not even a day ago, I wouldn’t have listened to you. I would have entertained the thought, but never would have admitted it out loud...”

“You still haven’t, you know~” Asmo says with a coy bat of his eyelashes.

“Don’t push your luck.”

A short pause before the two demons let out their soft laughter, alleviating the serious atmosphere. A welcome calm for the whirlwind of Satan’s thoughts, if only briefly.

Love… It IS love that I’m feeling. Heh, I think… I could get used to this feeling.

“Soooo?” Asmodeus inquires, his eyes lighting up as they narrow gleefully, “When did you start falling for our dear little ___?”

“You’re the Avatar of Lust. You tell me.”

The level-headedness of Satan’s response draws a pout to Asmo’s lips. “But I wanna know straight from the source! Unless that means I have to ask her for the details. With enough… persuasion, I’m sure I can get her to tell me anything.”

A wide grin splits Satan’s lips. “Sounds like someone wants their head immortalised in the wall just like Mammon.”

The Avatar of Lust raises his hands up in mock surrender, yet his eyes are peaked with intrigue. 

“I jest, I jest! But wow, you really can’t take a joke when it comes to her, can you?” He tucks a loose strand of his hair back into place and leans in with a smirk, “You’ve got it baaaad. You’re so in loooooove~”

The serene smile on Satan’s face belies the horns growing and curling out of his head, the aura surrounding him dense, like a black hole of barely suppressed rage. Asmo raises his hands again in innocence, movements more stilted and frantic than before.

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop, I’ll stop. Just-“ he taps a finger against one of the obsidian horns as he stands from his seat, “-put those away and do NOT push my face into a wall! You will not ruin the very thing that makes me beautiful, or you will have hoards of succubi coming after you!”

His horns retract with a roll of his eyes, his gaze trained on Asmo as the Avatar of Lust moves towards the door. Satan’s eyebrow raises.

“That’s it?”

Asmo stops, tilting his head back to his brother without fully turning to face him, “What? Were you expecting the ‘a demon should never fall in love with a human’ lecture? I’m not Lucifer.”

Satan snorts, a bitter grin splitting his lips, “Does that mean he knows about this and is going to berate me later?”

Asmo’s shoulders rise and fall with the hyperbole of a stage actor or a five-year-old, Satan choosing the latter as a more accurate description.

“Who knows? I don’t. I haven’t told anyone and, as far as I know, I’m the only one who’s figured out why you’ve been acting so weird around ___.”

He turns his head to face forward again, hiding his beaming, scheming smile from Satan, “But if I were you, I would hash out your feelings now, before all of our brothers figure it out and try to do something stupid. For example… try to stop you, or maybe… try to take ___ for themselves?”

The scrape of the chair against the floor as Satan leaps to his feet has Asmo chuckling despite himself.

“Sorry! Couldn’t help myself.”

Satan’s death stare softens when Asmodeus turns back once again to meet his eyes, the look he sends the Avatar of Wrath oddly kind considering his teasing not five seconds before.

“Just be honest with her and you’ll be fine, Satan. Lust is the body’s way of telling the truth, and love is the same for the heart. Trust your brother on that~”

With those parting words, Asmo takes his leave, leaving Satan to stand there mulling his words over in thought. As he struts down the hallway, Asmo can’t help but let a little sigh escape his lips.

“I meant what I said, Satan. You better snatch her up before I do. Just be thankful that I’m giving you a head start.”

~

He wishes that he could be bold enough to go straight to her and confess his revelation - confess that she has taken over the better part of his thoughts for so long that she has basically denounced him as the Avatar of Wrath altogether.

But, unfortunately for him, his rational side is much more in control than his emotional side, even with the realisation of his feelings for her. Any inkling of thought to approach her, any free chance to change the subject or whisk her away to speak in private is cut off… by his own doing.

Curse you for giving me some of your foolish pride, Lucifer. Satan seethes inwardly, looking for anyone to blame regardless of accountability.

Strolling with palpable irritation through the House of Lamentation’s halls, he pulls his phone out for the umpteenth time today, swiping it open and opening the messaging app. He stares at her contact, top of the list. The last message sent was her sending a sticker, the little demon character smiling brightly at him. With a slow, deliberate inhale, he focuses on dispelling all of his inhibitions with this exhale. Then, with every fibre of his being, he stops himself from thinking and simply lets his thumbs type away against the screen.

                    Satan: Are you busy right now? If not, come to my room for a bit.

He hits send before pausing to look over the message. With his eyebrows furrowing and that just-short-of-comfortable warmth pooling in the depth of his stomach, he types out a second message.

                    Satan: I want to see you.

That message sends a much harsher jolt of warmth through him as he hits send, suddenly self-conscious at his boldness and acutely aware of how direct and clear his message is. Even though he was staring directly at the screen, the vibration of the reply still makes him jump. Scolding himself and shaking his head, he pours his eyes over the screen.

                    ___: Okay! I’ll be there in 10.

Three little dots dance in sequence beneath the text, Satan’s hint to know that she’s typing something else. What appears is a sticker, the little red demon character blushing as it averts its eyes. Satan is quick to mimic the sticker - though unintentionally - his free hand covering his mouth as he turns his eyes to the ground, the heat emanating from his cheeks coursing into his fingertips.

Is that a good sign? I’ve read that courting for humans is the same for demons, but that was a book from the last millennia so maybe it’s changed since then? … I’m reading too much into this. Stop thinking, Satan!

With a grunt and a grimace, Satan continues down the hall, his footsteps heavier with anticipation and nerves. He vaguely registers a side glance and eyebrow raise from Lucifer as he passes him, but he doesn’t stop to process it. Not when the biggest challenge of his life was looming above him and ready to strike.

…

It was the longest ten minutes of this immortal demon’s entire life.

But the soft sound of knocking fills the quiet room and Satan is quick to open the door. He’s greeted by an equally soft smile, her cheeks rising with her clear happiness at seeing him. Satan feels the desire to let his gaze drift down to her lips, but he resists; every interaction with her begins this way after that night, but thankfully he can retain a somewhat normal air without her noticing his gawking.

Without a word, he opens the door further and steps aside. She walks past him as she enters the room, Satan aware of her eyes never leaving him even after he closes the door. Now alone in his room is when Satan begins to feel nerves twist his stomach into knots and swell in his throat like a lodged rock.

“Thank you for coming. I realise it was short notice.” He hopes he sounds normal enough as he says that.

She replies with a soft laugh, “Of course. I always enjoy seeing you.”

Satan swears he feels his ribcage jolt with how hard his heart hammers against his chest. Her words hold such power over him that he starts to second-guess if she might be a wizard like Solomon. He closes his eyes and clears his throat, raising one hand to his hip and the other to his chest.

“Hm. Well, good. I… I do, too.”

Keeping his eyes closed, he finds the words coming to him easier.

“Do you remember when you told me to come and talk to you whenever I needed to?”

“Yeah, I do.” He hears her small heeled boots click once, twice, against the floor, her voice closer than before as she worriedly asks, “Is something wrong?”

Satan swallows thickly. “I wouldn’t say ‘wrong’, per se. It’s just… difficult. I haven’t felt anything like this before, so it was quite the mission to wrap my head around before I could accept the truth.”

The hand at his chest clenches into a fist, his sweater balled into its middle - directly over his heart.

“I found it infuriating at first, and even more so when I became aware of what this was. But now, I’m just angry at myself because I can’t look you in the eyes as I tell you this.”

“Why can’t you?”

An understandable question, yet it tightens the frown on Satan’s face and makes his breath leave him as a hiss through clenched teeth.

“Because looking at you makes me want to--!” He bites his tongue and turns his back to her, the end of his sentence ushering from his lips with remorse and shame, “--it makes me want to kiss you...”

A beat of silence. Enough to convince Satan that everything he has said has ruined their chances at ever having a normal conversation again. 

Her footsteps announce themselves as she steps closer, each one cautious as if she is approaching a frightened yet powerful beast. Gently, she places her hand on his shoulder, and Satan tenses slightly at her warmth - at her warmth only making his own warmth burn hotter.

“Satan.”

Please, don’t do it, he begs silently. But it is ultimately futile.

“Satan, look me in the eye.”

His body moves on its own accord, obeying the pact without any concern for the demon’s reluctance. She doesn’t command him - nor any of the demon brothers - that often through the pacts she made with them, but they know that when she does, it’s serious. Satan turns around, his arms moving to hang rigidly at his sides before his eyes are forced open by demonic influence.

She stands in front of him, no more than a foot away, her head tilted up to meet his eyes. And she looks… beautiful. Her eyes glisten with the beginnings of tears, yet her gaze is clear and focused only on his face. Her cheeks are stained a tempting shade of pink and stretch out to caress her ears. And her lips look so tantalizing and soft as she releases a breath from them. 

For a moment, the two stand there staring at each other, absorbing each other’s palpable emotions and letting themselves get lost in the other’s eyes. Then, she raises her hand and carefully cups the Avatar of Wrath’s cheek with a touch so tender that he forgets himself for a moment. His eyes widen and his lungs halt their breaths, everything ceasing to focus on the warmth and softness of her hand against him.

“___…” Satan breathes out, his voice confused and pleading, desperate for both more and less simultaneously.

The pad of the human’s thumb strokes against the skin of Satan’s cheek, seemingly lost in the act of touching him. He swallows around the lump in his throat and waits for her to speak, the everpresent heat only flaring hotter at the addition of her skin caressing his own.

“Tell me, Satan.” Her cheeks flush further and her eyes communicate hope and affection, “Why do you want to kiss me?”

“Because, I…”

Her hand moves to the back of his neck, her fingers sweet as they comb through his blond hair in a comforting, encouraging way. Lost in her eyes yet emboldened by her actions, his own hand lifts to cup her cheek, his thumb gravitating to push on her lower lip, so plush and perfect.

“Because I love you.”

His whispered words incite the warmth within him, breaking the dam and flooding his entire body with this sweet, addictive heat. Satan moves his thumb, replacing it with his lips as he finally, finally listens to his heart. She hums into the kiss, her fingers gliding further into his hair and tightening her grip, just enough to keep her presence known. Their lips part with incredible reluctance, their faces still so close together that neither can see anything except the other’s lips, both open and ready for more.

“I love you, too.”

… What?

Satan baulks, his breath leaving him as a confused gasp that he couldn’t mask quickly enough. She laughs softly at his confusion, her fingertips moving to brush his fringe out of his face while her other hand moves to grip his shoulder with a comforting squeeze.

“I love your company, your wit, how sweet you can be, your kindness. I love you, Satan. And I want to kiss you, too.”

His heart soars at her words, his brain struggling to catch up. But his body does not wait to react, the heat beneath his skin now burning his blood and fogging his brain. His eyes darken and his breath leaves his lips hot and desperate. Whilst familiar sensations, they feel foreign to Satan, this heat being too… addicting. He wants - no, needs - more.

His inhibitions discarded, his lips reunite with hers with such vigour that she gasps against him. Satan takes the opportunity to trace his tongue over her lips, poking and prodding at them, desperate for access. Her shock subsiding, she gladly relents with a sweet sigh and Satan claims her, his tongue running along the roof of her mouth before seeking out her own tongue to twine with. His hand still holding her cheek, the other loops around her waist and pulls her flush against him, desperate to feel more of her warmth and to share this glorious, suffocating heat with her. Her hands move as well, her grip tightening on his sweater while the other returns to his hair, carding her fingers through it and gripping tight.

Satan inhales sharply through his nose before deepening the kiss. She pulls his hair harder in response, the action spurring him on and making him want more. He sucks her bottom lip between his teeth, toying softly with it, lulling her into safety before biting down. Her groan is let out into the air unmuffled by their kiss, Satan pulling back with her lip still between his teeth. He lets go, letting her catch her breath and letting his eyes rake over the fierce blush on her face and the sweet, swollen velvet red of her lips. He pulls her back for another kiss, his impatience mounting. She returns it eagerly, her gasps and moans chorusing together. Their hands move over each other like the ebb and flow of a tide, each responding to the other and reacting in turn.

Their lips never leaving each other, Satan staggers backwards, urging her to follow. His back hits the door of his room with more force than she expected, her balance skewing and her chest colliding with Satan’s. She releases his lips with a gasp, pulling back to make sure he’s alright, but the hand on her cheek pulls her back in for more, a moaned grunt of satisfaction leaving Satan.

“Don’t stop.” He breathes out against her lips, his words muffled by the kiss he speaks through. 

When she hesitates, Satan moves his hand from her cheek to the back of her head. He lets his fingers be enveloped in the silky river of her hair before gripping it and tilting her head back with just enough force to hurt. She gasps, an edge of pain in her voice, but a whimper follows as Satan attaches his lips to the sensitive skin of her pulse point. Soft yet fierce kisses travel across the plains of her neck down to the collar of her shirt before retracing each step anew, his teeth nipping every so often at her soft skin just so Satan can feel her twitch beneath him. The pleasure he feels pooling within him is incredible, the heat intoxicating and desperate for release.

If I’m not careful, I might just--

His lips reattach to her pulse point, sucking and nibbling at the skin whilst the hand at her waist adjusts to trace his fingers along her spine, relishing in the way her body follows his touch as if begging for more.

I need more.

He moves back up to cherish her jaw, kissing along its edge until he reaches her ear. Her breath leaves her as a shuddered moan when Satan takes her earlobe between his lips, his tongue playful in its caresses and his teeth gentle in its affection against her sensitive organ.

“S-Satan…”

Her saccharine voice makes him sigh, the sound reverberating right into her ear and sending a shiver of pleasure through her. Just before he can return to her waiting lips--

“Satan! You in there?”

The voice and simultaneous knock shock the two in the room, the vibrations of the knock felt through their bodies significantly. In a panic, she buries her face into Satan’s chest to prevent any sound of shock from escaping. His hand still on her head, he gently strokes her hair both to calm her and to compose himself.

“What? I’m busy.”

“Lucifer needs ya. Better come quick before he throws a fit.”

Satan clicks his tongue at Mammon’s awfully timed message, “Alright. I’ll be over shortly.”

“Don’t leave it too long or we’ll both be in deep trouble! And I won’t forgive ya for it!”

His older brother’s heavy footsteps disappear into silence as he leaves, but they remain silent and still for a moment longer just to be safe. Convinced that they’re alone once again, Satan buries his face into the crown of her head and sighs deeply, his breath tousling her locks and wafting the sweet scent of her hair into his nostrils. He feels her nuzzle into his chest and he can’t help but smile at the action, his past thoughts of her being cat-like re-emerging in his mind. 

After another minute enjoying each other’s embraces on borrowed time, Satan begrudgingly pulls himself back. She follows suit, pushing herself from his chest but keeping her hands against him just as an excuse to touch him. Their eyes meet and they share an embarrassed smile, both of them flushed and glowing with a subtle hint of yearning and lust.

“You okay?”

His question makes her smile widen and she stands on her toes to press a ghost of a kiss against his lips, one so quick that he can’t react quick enough to reciprocate.

“More than.” she grins, “The demon I love returns my feelings. How can I not be okay?”

A troubled smile couples with tender eyes to make Satan realise that his heart is definitely going to be tested with this human if she keeps this up. But, the thought of always feeling so pleasantly lost for words and lighter than air doesn’t actually sound that bad to him.

He’s distracted from his thoughts by her hand sweeping a stray blond lock of his hair back into place, her eyes narrowing with unadulterated affection.

“Go on, then. I don’t want you to get in trouble with Lucifer.”

Satan nods, yet neither of them moves. His fingers massage the muscles at her hips, and hers trace over his collarbone through the fabric of his shirt. He can’t help but grin wryly at how easily this human has him in the palm of her hand, but realises that she likely feels the same about him. It makes him happy to imagine but, ultimately, the thought of Lucifer coming after him overpowers his greater desire to stay.

He pushes her away gently by her hips and moves away from the door. Quickly straightening out his clothes, he hesitates to turn to leave as he eyes her face. She raises an eyebrow at him and he lets out a soft laugh.

“One more?”

She rolls her eyes, but her grin and the twinkle in her eyes give her away. Satan closes the distance between them, his hand moulding to the shape of her face as he cups her cheek and his lips doing the same as they meet hers. Slow, smouldering, sweet; the kiss lingers even as they both pull away, the kiss kept short lest they get lost within their passions again.

“I’ll be right here waiting for you when you come back.” She whispers with a conspiratorial smile, one Satan can’t help but mirror.

With a final, final peck to her lips, Satan pulls himself away from temptation and opens the door to leave, his eyes locked on her for as long as possible before closing the door behind him. The sweet, lingering heat still coursing through his veins simmers gently through him, her warmth and her scent reminding him of her presence despite her absence. He scoffs, yet the smile alighting his lips doesn’t match the sound.

I’m an idiot. And she’s an idiot for choosing me. But, now that I have her, I won’t let her go. This warmth of hers is mine.

As he starts walking towards Lucifer’s room, Satan does his best to school his features to keep the content smile off his face. But he can’t deny that it’s difficult, knowing that she’ll be waiting for him to return. And that she loves him and yearns for him, too.

That fact fills him with sweet, loving warmth.

[bugsandchatons]

when you weren’t mine to lose (4)

Summary: Change is a scary thing, especially when it feels like nothing has stayed the same.

It’s been a year since Marinette became the Guardian of the Miracle Box - a year of struggling beneath a burden she never asked for, a weight that has her leaning on her partner more and more as the hours fly by, of letting him come to her, too, when he needs a soft place to land. A year of falling for the boy who takes on the world by her side with a smile made of sunlight, and fighting the growing urge to tell him what he means to her.

After all, they’ll have time enough for that when Paris is safe.

But when the unthinkable happens, Marinette learns the tragedy of loving someone quietly, and the lines she’ll cross to save him.

  [[AO3]] {from the beginning}

*****

[four: when I’ve got nothing but my aching soul]

The world around her keeps going, but Ladybug’s universe narrows to three things: Chat Noir’s frozen form, the shattered mirror at his feet, and her own hand, reaching in vain across the space between them. At some point, darkness must fall around her in earnest, as the sun dies behind the horizon. At some point, the akumatized victim must gather his strength and crawl away, finding his own way down the fire escape and leaving Ladybug to her vigil.

She doesn’t spare him a glance.

The beeping in her ears blares one last warning and the static fades, bringing the return of sound and with it, faint gasps that come in a rhythm.

It’s coming from her, Ladybug realizes. She can’t seem to find enough air.

There’s a flash of pink and she shuts her eyes against it. When she opens them again, Chat’s blank stare meets her. Her stomach turns, threatening to empty. “I can’t breathe,” she tells him, choking on the words. 

Still, he doesn’t move. 

Another sound finds her, be it mere moments or hours later. It takes too long to realize it’s her name.

“Marinette?” Tikki, exhausted and wide-eyed, is patting her cheek. “Marinette, what happened?”

“Chat, he -” she whispers, lifting a trembling finger. She can’t find any more words, but it’s enough. 

Tikki spins around and makes a strangled sort of sound before zipping over to him. “Chat Noir?” she asks, her voice clear as a bell. Marinette blinks, then sits up straighter and stares. If she can’t fix it, then Tikki will.

“Plagg?” Tikki tries, her voice jumping an octave. “Plagg,” she calls again, before her expression twists. In the blink of an eye, Tikki phases into the Chat statue, before reappearing with something that’s enormous in her hands but tiny when she brings it over and lays it in front of Marinette. 

It’s Chat Noir’s ring, the Black Cat Miraculous in a state she’s never seen it in before. It’s still black, but burned black. The signet face is blank, and the absence of the usual flashing green paw print is as glaring as a missing heartbeat.

When Marinette opens her mouth to speak, nothing makes it past the lump in her throat. She swallows, then tries again, her voice hoarse. “Where’s Plagg?”

Tikki makes a small sound, similar to that of an animal in pain. Everything about her droops. “I don’t know, Marinette. The Miraculous is broken.”

Marinette shakes her head, the movement slow and mechanical. She reaches out for the shattered hand mirror and stares at her own fragmented reflection as it looks back with broken accusation in her eyes. She whispers, “Why didn’t it work, Tikki?”

Tikki closes her eyes. “Lucky Charm has failed before when the Akuma's ability was able to impact it. This is…” she trails off, touching down onto the roof in front of Marinette, her eyes glassy with her own grief when she looks back up. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

It takes a moment for her meaning to land, the only sound Marinette’s harsh, hiccuping breaths. She looks from the black ring to the black statue of a boy whose name she never knew but wanted to learn. Her partner, her kitty, his eyes empty when they were always so bright, his mouth a gaping wound when it used to offer sunbeam smiles.

Marinette had lost him time and time again, but he’d always come back. She’d saved him, over and over. It was never supposed to be permanent.

She looks down at the mirror that failed her, failed him, screws her eyes shut, and smashes it into the rooftop. Glass shards fly free and nick her arms, her cheeks. Marinette does it again, then again. 

“Marinette,” Tikki cries, “you’re hurting yourself, please!” 

Was she? She couldn’t feel it. She gives in anyway, dropping the destroyed mirror and picking up the Miraculous ring instead. She shuffles closer to Chat, stopping just short of touching him. Her hand shakes as she closes her fingers around his ring.

She’s held it before, but she’s always been able to give it back. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” her name comes from a low, smooth voice behind her, belonging to someone who wasn’t there before. “In hindsight, I ought to have known it would be you hiding behind Ladybug’s mask.”

She feels Tikki nestle into her hair. Marinette fists her fingers and rises to her knees. She turns slowly, lifting her eyes to meet Hawkmoth’s as he stares down at her. Something inside her catches fire and starts to burn.

“Nothing to say on your behalf?” he asks. “No desperate denials?”

Marinette glares back. If he’s disappointed in her refusal to engage, he says nothing of it. He tips his head down in the smallest of nods. “I’m afraid I require your Miraculous, Mademoiselle.”

She lets out one harsh sound, too sharp and brittle to be a laugh. “Now you ask nicely?” 

Hawkmoth is silent for a beat, then another. He clears his throat. “It would be in your best interest, as well.” She stares him down as he inclines his head in Chat’s direction, but seems unable to fully look his way as he continues, “I can fix what has transpired here tonight.”

“You can fix him,” Marinette turns the words over in her mouth. They taste like ashes. “Why?”

Another silence. Hawkmoth seems to measure what he’d like to say carefully before admitting, “I have reason to believe he’s my son.”

“Your son,” Marinette echoes. The flames inside the cavern of her chest lick higher and higher, a blaze building to an inferno.

“I believe so, yes.” Finally, he turns his gaze to Chat, though any expression Hawkmoth might offer in the face of what he’s wrought hides behind his mask. Marinette’s fingers itch with the desire to claw his eyes out. “This evening, my son did not come home. No one has seen him for hours now, which is an anomaly on its own. He is typically obedient and does not leave our house without accompaniment, so his continued absence is highly unusual.” He pauses, his brow furrowing. “I...have wondered before about the possibility of him being Chat Noir. Now, between the timing of his disappearance and the demise of your partner, the coincidence seems too great to disregard. With your earrings and his ring, I can likely restore him.”

Marinette clenches her fist around the broken ring until it bites into her skin. It wouldn’t be granting any wishes, now. “Restore him,” she says slowly, venom slipping into the cracks in her voice. She rises; one foot underneath her, then the other. “You? You ruined him. You killed him.” 

Hawkmoth watches her, his face infuriatingly blank. Marinette takes a shaky step, putting herself firmly between him and Chat as her emptiness gives way to something vicious and blistering. “You put him in danger every day, and for what? Now he’s gone. You can’t save him,” she spits. “You took him away from me.” 

Her words echo, splintering the quiet of the night. Hawkmoth’s jaw ticks, the only outward sign of his displeasure. “If you’re quite finished with the dramatics,” he begins, “I am offering the chance to change it.” 

“No, you’re trying to get what you want. To take the Miraculous and use them for something selfish. If I were to do that, I wouldn’t need you, now would I?”

Hawkmoth’s lip curls. “You know nothing of me or my purposes. You run around playing hero, but you have no idea of the true power of the forces you interfere with. You are nothing but a child.” 

“Maybe,” Marinette admits, “but I’ve still managed to best you a thousand times over.”

“So you will not cooperate, then.” 

Marinette lifts her eyes to his. He could take the Miraculous from her, she knows, and easily. Tikki hasn’t eaten, and she can’t transform. Marinette doesn’t care. She dares him to take a step. She’ll burn him down and the world along with it. “No,” she says, “I will not.” 

His eyes narrow to slits. “We shall see, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

She stares back, undaunted. His threats can’t touch her. There’s nothing more he can do that would be worse than what he’s already done.

He half-turns, waving his cane towards Chat. “And what are you going to do for him on your own? Give it time. You might find that you and I are not so different when it comes to losing those we love.”

Her breath catches in her lungs. The ring feels like a brand in her palm. Hawkmoth would trade a life to bring back whoever it was he’d lost. If she could, would she make the same choice?

“Go, Hawkmoth,” Tikki speaks up, her little voice colder than Marinette has ever heard it. “The Guardian will deal with you in due time.”

Silence greets her. It stretches on until Marinette hears his footsteps retreat, then fade. 

When he’s gone, she steps closer to Chat, shaking like a leaf in the wind. “Oh, minou, mon rêve,” she whispers. “Can’t you come back to me? I was going to tell you my name,” she lifts a timid hand and lays it against his cool cheek. “I was going to tell you I love you.” 

Ashes fall from his cheek like teardrops, staining her fingers. As though a mere touch was all that was needed, Chat crumbles, ashes falling at her feet and scattering on the wind. When dust is all that remains, something inside Marinette twists and breaks.

She drops to the rooftop when her legs give up, unwilling to hold her any longer. She screams, for Chat, for anyone, until her voice is ragged and nearly spent. She draws freezing air into burning lungs and screams some more, begging Bunnyx to come and take her back, back to when the worst thing she had to face was telling her partner the truth.

Tikki rides out the storm on her shoulder, her little hands pressed to Marinette’s cheek. “Bunnyx will only come if all else has failed, Marinette,” she murmurs. “At the end of everything.”

“Chat is gone,” Marinette whimpers, “Hawkmoth knows who I am. This feels like the end of everything to me.” 

Tikki presses her face to Marinette’s, her little body shaking. “There must be something, then. Something we’ve missed, another chance-”

Another chance. Marinette goes very still. “A second chance,” she gasps. She finds her feet, slowly. She swipes a soot-stained hand over her cheek and turns in the direction of home. “I need to get to my bedroom, Tikki. Without anyone seeing.” She fumbles for her purse and produces half a macaroon. “Please eat, if you can.” 

Like mismatching puzzle pieces, she forces together a plan. A convoluted one, a risky one, but a plan, none-the-less. As she strings it together, she finally feels like she can breathe.

“What are you thinking?” Tikki asks before taking a bite.

Marinette tells her.

 ****

The race to her terrace is a blur. Ladybug stumbles over her potted plants until she reaches the hatch and falls into her bed, then slides down the ladder. She drags herself on weary feet to the locked chest in the corner. Inside, buried beneath several layers of fabric scraps, is the Miracle Box.

Ladybug presses her thumbs to the buttons and watches as it springs open at her touch.

“Are you sure about this, Marinette?” Tikki had asked, blue eyes wide and uncertain.

No. She wasn’t at all sure that this was the right choice, but she was sure that this was her best chance.

Ladybug selects the Miraculous she needs and slides it onto her left wrist. She tucks the box back away safe, stands, and grabs a hair ribbon from her desk. With it, she ties Chat’s ring to her other wrist, pressing the blank signet to her lips before something else catches her eye.

Her phone blinks insistently from the desk. There are a dozen missed messages - her mother, her father, Alya. One in particular grabs her attention, a short text from an unknown number.

This is Nathalie Sancoeur. Miss Dupain-Cheng, is Adrien with you?

She blinks. There are others - another from Alya, from Nino, even Chloe, all asking the same thing.

Is Adrien with you? 

Ladybug’s phone slips from shaking fingers. 

Between the timing of his disappearance and the demise of your partner, the coincidence seems too great to disregard.

Ladybug swallows. She breathes in through her nose and lets it back out. She’d fix it.

“One more time, Tikki,” she’d begged on the rooftop. “If this works, it...it might be awhile.”

Tikki had pressed a kiss to her forehead, determination clear in her eyes. “If it gives us a chance to save Plagg and Chat Noir, then it will be more than worth it. Good luck, Marinette.”

She digs an old, treasured charm bracelet out of her purse and dons it, too. She’d never had to ask for luck before, but now, she would take every bit she could get her hands on. 

Ladybug leaves her home as quietly as she snuck in. She swings down from the roof and slips into the park across the street, letting her feet carry her until she finds herself in front of the statue dedicated to herself and Chat Noir. The violent hole in her chest gapes open, even wider than before.

At least here, she can see his smile.

This time, when her eyes burn and her throat swells and her heart breaks, Ladybug lets it consume her. She lets tears burst through the dam she’d built and drowns in them. She lets the grief pour out of her until she’s choking on it.

Through it all, she waits.

She feels it, when it comes - in the shift in the air, in the chill down her spine. She lets out a ragged breath. “Tikki,” she whispers. “Sass. Unify.”

Then Ladybug reaches out and allows damnation and salvation both to land in the palm of her hand. “There you are, little butterfly. I’ve been waiting for you.” 

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2020 #25: Wish

Aeryn was seated at her desk when Thancred slipped into her room. She gave him a tight smile and nod before her gaze returned to the documents before her, pen tapping on the rim of the inkwell as she thought. A moment later and she scratched a few notes.

He could see the stiffness in her shoulders; that sort of a night, then. At least she’d already changed into her sleepwear.

“I brought a new book,” he said. “One of those Ishgardian romances you like.”

She only “Mmhm’d” a response, checking her journal.

Thancred considered a moment, then placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward. “I understand there are such lascivious acts as hand holding and using given names within the pages,” he stage-whispered.

That made her pause, raising a brow, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. She had to clear her throat. “‘Tis a wonder the Inquisition allowed it to print,” she replied.

“Indeed,” he answered, straightening and stepping around the heavy oak desk. He noted her teacup was half-full and cold. “What are you working on and how long have you been at it?”

Aeryn paused again, and he could practically see her internally debating how much to say even as he rested his hands on her shoulders--gods, she really was tense--and peered at the paperwork. Diagrams of the Ultima Weapon and similar designs were shuffled under reports, his quick eye catching Baelsar’s name among others on the pages before she closed the portfolio cover and set her journal over it. “I’ve maybe been at it too long,” she admitted.

She didn’t like discussing the Weapons Project with him; it tended to take his mind to dark places only partially remembered while awake and causing hazy nightmares when he slept. “Well then,” he said, flexing his fingers over her stiff muscles while pretending he saw nothing. “Shall we read for fun instead? The book comes highly recommended.”

“...How highly?” Aeryn asked, melting under his touch as he set to massaging some of that tension away.

“Lucia sent it. ‘Twas among the welcome home package from our northern friends.”

Aeryn made a pleased mrr’ing sound, leaning forward as his hands continued to work at her knots. “High indeed. You read; I feel I’m going cross-eyed after looking over these reports.”

“As you wish,” he said, not stopping the massage. “Shall I leave you slumped here in your chair, or stoke the fire so we may sit—”

“Bed,” she answered, placing her hands on the desk to push herself to her feet.

Thancred scooped Aeryn as she stood, grinning when she squeaked in surprise. “I can walk you know,” she grumped, an arm automatically hooking around his neck. “And you shouldn’t strain yourself.”

“I’ve never felt better,” he answered. “Allow me the brief indulgence of spoiling you.”

She gave in rather easily, head resting on his shoulder for the short time it took for him to carry her across the room and around the partition to her bed. The heavy comforter was already turned down, and there was enough space among the myriad pillows to settle her. “Right back,” he promised. Thancred retrieved the novel from the desk, turned down all but the bedside lamp, and took off his shoes and shirt before joining her.

It was not a long book--more of a novella--but it was entertaining enough that he could feel the tension melting from Aeryn as they curled up together amid her too-many pillows and the downy comforter. She leaned back against his chest, her fingers idly tracing the lines of his forearm, her other hand reaching up to brush along the side of his face and play with his hair as she listened, giggling at the increasingly ridiculous voices he affected for each character.

The chronometer chimed a late hour as the story came to an end--happily of course, the various fictional couples properly engaged and all right with the cast’s fortunes and honor. “Going to have to find a good story to send in return,” Aeryn said, her fingers continuing to drift over his skin.

“Agreed.” Thancred leaned over to deposit the slim volume on the nightstand, shifting them both until she was on her back on the mattress now. He rested his palm on her stomach, sliding to her side and up as he leaned in to kiss her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks. A drawn in breath, and they pressed closer, her leg hooking over his as their lips met, warm and soft.

The kiss ended with another content murmur from Aeryn. “Exactly what I needed.” Her hand stroked idly along his spine.

“And is it all my lady needs tonight?” He asked, continuing to trail kisses along her jaw, against her ear, down her neck.

She took a moment to answer, tilting her head to allow his path to her shoulder. “Yes, think so,” she replied.

“As you wish,” he said, leaving a kiss on the round of her shoulder. He continued down her arm, until he caught her hand in his and pressed his mouth to her wrist. She sighed happily, then tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him down to her lips for another warm, gentle kiss. “I’ll get the light,” he said quietly, leaving one last kiss on the end of her nose as he reached up, turning down the lamp.

She quickly fell asleep, more tired than she had tried to allow herself. He watched her for a time, content to simply be close; again, still, reveling in the multiple miracles that had allowed them this nearly-perfect moment. Tomorrow he might be the one pushing too far, and she would be the one taking care of him. So it went; he wasn’t sure what would happen if they were ever on the same page at the same time in that regard, both of them too ready to go too far instead of balancing each other as they often did. It wasn’t a concern tonight in any case.

Thancred settled in next to Aeryn, holding her close, and joined her in undisturbed sleep.

[littledrummeraussie]

craving something sweeter. / the taste of your skin tonight series

Word count: 4100+ Warnings: photographer!Ashton & slightly-innocent-college!reader. teasing. semi-public sex. sex without protection. (always be safe ya all!) everything is consensual. Author’s note: you can read this one as a standalone piece, but it’s actually the middle of a series that I’m gonna write on and off. Some things are referencing back to previous things that shall be written later, but until then - enjoy some fun times at the Art Exhibit. (Yes, I’m that weird person who sometimes writes the later parts before actually starting the story.) Feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

taste of your skin masterlist. / masterlist.

There was a long line of people waiting to get inside the building, and since Ashton seemed to be late you were sure you will have to spend another hour outside. Not that you minded it, as long as he was by your side. It was his turn to pick a date for you, and he decided to take you to an art exhibit that arrived a week ago to the city. He’s been going on and off about the artists that contributed to the event and how he wanted you to see some of the pieces that inspired him to become a photographer. You were more than happy to spend your day with him, listen as he shared thoughts, stories, feelings that made him who he was today. You just wished he would arrive already.

People started shifting back to a straight line as a bike passed them by, the obnoxious ringing of a bell making some of them grumble, saying how sidewalks were not made for such horrible constructions. You stifled your laugh as it suddenly stopped next to you and Ashton jumped off the saddle, cheeks pink and smile contagious, his bag slung over his back. He quickly ran his fingers through his hair, fluffing it up as he leaned closer, kissing your cheek.

”Hey gorgeous girl,” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to his side. ”Been waiting for long?”

”I probably arrived a bit sooner, so it’s fine,” you smiled back with a shrug. ”You know me.”

”That’s a pretty nice dress you’re wearing,” he tugged on the dotted fabric, a spark in his eyes. ”Haven’t seen this one yet.”

”You know, I was thinking…” you turned towards him, grabbing onto the lapels of his jacket. ”…that since you’re taking me to see some of the influences that inspired you, it’s only fitting if I wear something that influenced me in the last few months.”

”Polka dots and leather jackets?” he laughed, bopping your nose with his finger. ”You’re too cute. Ready to go?”

”Ash, there’s a line,” you nodded to the queue in front of you. ”That’s probably another 30 minutes wait.”

”Not if you have one of these,” he flashed you a grin as he pulled a laminated pass out of his pocket, putting the strap around his neck. ”Free entry and all access. Perks of the job.”

”You’re unbelievable,” you shook your head with a smile, rolling your eyes at him. ”But what about…”

Before you could finish your question Ashton fished out another pass from his bag, putting it around your neck.

”Perks of the job,” he repeated with a grin, and you felt yourself blush as you saw your name printed next to his on the card. ”Come, I just need to chain up my bike and we can go.”

He pulled you out of the line before people started to grumble again, and made his way towards the front. You held onto his bag as he quickly found a place for his bike on the rack, then let him grab your hand as you went up the long stairway, flashing your passes to the security guard and the staff inside, gaining entrance without waiting more than a few minutes. Ashton had a proud grin on his face as he led you down hallways and up more stairs, his steps turning bouncy as you arrived at the first part of the exhibition.

”Okay, so – there are a bunch of amazing artists who contributed to this collection, but there are like 6 or 7 specific ones I want you to see. I know it sounds like a lot, but–”

”But we have all the time in the world. Ash, breathe,” you laughed, pressing your lips against his. ”Come on, walk me through them!”

Ashton couldn’t hide his smile as he pulled out his camera, quickly checking the settings, then led you into the first room, snapping a photo of the gathering crowd. He was full of knowledge about the artists that wasn’t even displayed, sharing bits and pieces of information that made them and their work much more interesting to look at. And then there were those things that Ash himself learnt from them, small details that shaped his own view and style: how to use the light correctly, but also how to play with the shadows and the darkness in your photos. How even the smallest movements can make a huge difference in the final product, and you needed to be patient with yourself and your art. How polaroids were a fun way to capture the moment, but how sometimes you had to wait for the moment to catch you.

”So this is why you made me wait until I looked like a clown and then snapped that photo?” you quirked your eyebrow, thinking back at a certain polaroid he kept in his wallet.

”It’s my favourite picture of you. Don’t dis the scrunchy face,” he laughed, stepping to the side so he could explain. ”But yeah. Polaroids are for the moment, sure, but how could you know what is the exact moment you are looking for? So sometimes you wait, and then suddenly the moment comes and shows itself. I really wanted to capture your smile, but as I waited and waited and you started laughing at me – that was my moment. So honest and beautiful.”

”Can you not?” you felt yourself blushing, hiding your face against his chest. ”What’s so special about that picture?”

”You,” he tilted your chin up, pressing his lips against yours. ”Simply you.”

”Ash? Irwin, is that you?”

The voice came out of nowhere as you were both lost in your little world, but Ashton snapped his head up, looking for the person who called his name. Then you felt his posture change against you, and you followed his gaze which was now trained on a figure coming your way.

”Dan! Haven’t seen you in ages,” he smiled at the guy who finally stopped in front of you, shaking his hand. ”How’s everything?”

”Should have known I would find you here,” Dan clicked his tongue, a knowing grin on his face. ”I mean, it’s like they’ve put this whole thing together only to please your ugly mug.”

”You sound butthurt,” Ash joined in on the banter, clearly knowing how to handle the guy and his jokes.

”And who’s the pretty lady?” he suddenly turned to you, and you could feel Ashton’s arm pull you a little closer.

”The Muse,” Ashton smiled, pressing another kiss against your temple. ”Also known as my girlfriend.”

”Hi. Y/N,” you shook his hand as he looked you up and down, and you felt yourself slightly blush at his attention. ”Nice to meet you.”

”And nice to meet you too,” he gave you a grin, then turned to Ashton. ”I don’t know why she would ever date you. You clearly put some kind of spell on her.”

”Actually, it was the other way around,” Ash answered, and you felt another blush colour your cheeks, so you slightly pulled away.

”I’ll go ahead and look around a bit more,” you squeezed his hand, giving it the lightest of tugs, a silent plea. ”It was fun chatting with you, Dan.”

”The pleasure was all mine,” he gave you a wide grin as Ashton nodded at you.

”I’ll catch you in a minute.”

Dan already started another conversation with him, and you could only hope Ash can somehow cut him short. As you tuned out his voice you turned your focus back on the art in front of you. You didn’t realize the exhibit also included a section completely focusing on the history of erotic photography, but it shouldn’t have come as a surprise – by now you were well acquainted with Ashton’s fascination with the female body, especially yours.

It wasn’t too long ago when he approached you with the idea of taking some photographs, ones that might be a bit more different than the usual fun shots he took. You could definitely see the influence on the images displayed, and you bit your lip as you thought back of the night you’ve spent together once he gave up on being professional and instead let him be his everyday self: your boyfriend. Then suddenly two arms wrapped around your waist, and Ashton’s body pressed against your back, breath hot on your face.

”See something you like?” he whispered in your ear as he kissed your cheek, looking up at the picture in front of you.

”It kinda reminds me of us,” you confessed as you followed the printed lines of the two bodies entangled on the canvas.

The moment caught on camera was both intimate and hot, the lovers still lost in their ecstasy as they wrapped themselves around each other, hands grabbing, but the touch turning soft, mouths half-open, lips pressed together in a sloppy kiss and a moan you could almost hear. The sheets were tangled around their legs, their bodies covered by only a light sheen of sweat, eyes barely open, yet their love was shining through the picture. It was exactly how you felt whenever you looked at Ashton during those late nights or the stolen moments in the morning. It made you wish you could get lost like this with him right now.

”You yourself look like a piece of art. You belong here,” he nuzzled his nose against your hair, hands searching for yours to tangle your fingers together. ”That’s why I needed to take a picture of you.”

”Again?” you giggled as you felt his smile against your temple, and he just nodded. ”What would you call this piece? I lost my girlfriend in the erotica section?”

”Lost in her beautiful mind,” Ash answered, then continued his explanation. ”I saw you looking at this picture, and it was like seeing you and what you are thinking about at the same time. It kinda reminds me of us as well. You also looked like you were wishing to be somewhere else, and that was just hot as hell. With that little lip bite and how you crossed your legs…”

”I can’t help it,” there was a slight pout in your voice as he chuckled. ”You completely ruined me. I used to be a good girl.”

”You were never a good girl,” Ashton chuckled again, running his lips over the shell of your ear. ”Are you wet, baby?”

”Aaash,” you whined quietly as you felt a deep ache taking over you, making you cross your legs again. ”We’re in public.”

”That didn’t stop you before,” he put his hands around you to pull you slightly closer, pushing his own hips forward, his hard length pressing against your ass. ”Were you thinking about my cock while daydreaming about this picture? Because it definitely got me hard, seeing you like this. Knowing exactly what’s going through your mind while looking at this photo in the middle of an art exhibit with people around us.”

”I wish you could fuck me right now,” you sighed as he rubbed against you, his movements slow and teasing.

”I think we could just… slip away,” he kissed into your ear, already leading you away from the picture. ”I’m sure we forgot to check something out in the previous rooms.”

He guided you through the crowd, going back the way you came from until he suddenly made a left turn, pulling you through a door you haven’t noticed before, and you quickly found yourself in a hallway that was definitely closed off from visitors. Ashton gave you a quick wink and a grin as he pushed another door open, and in seconds you were inside one of the staff bathrooms, the door locking behind you with a loud click. Ash shrugged off his bag, almost kicking it into the corner as he picked you up, already kissing you as he sat you on the counter, hands sliding up your thighs.

”I knew this dress was trouble,” he licked into your mouth as his fingers tugged on your panties, quickly sliding them down your legs. ”And I knew I’m gonna fuck you in it, just not that this soon.”

”Are you complaining?” you giggled against his cheek as he pocketed the lacy fabric, pulling you back for another kiss.

”Fuck, never.”

You reached for his belt, working the buckle open to do the same with the button and the zipper. You rubbed your palm against his bulge, pulling his cock out from his boxers to stroke it up and down, the hot flesh already pulsing in your hand. Ash whined against your lips as he bunched the skirt of the dress around your waist, his palm cupping your pussy, fingers already teasing between your wet folds. He chuckled as he pushed the first knuckle inside, biting on your bottom lip as he went deeper.

”Those pictures really turned you on, huh? Naughty girl.”

”Thinking about you turned me on,” you ran your thumb over the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-cum over it. ”And yeah, ahh, maybe the pictures too… and thinking about that first time in the club…”

”You liked my fingers deep inside you?” Ash pushed in a second finger, his slow movements and his quick panting words in your ear driving you crazy. ”Pushed against the wall, loud music, no one hearing your moans as you came on them? You’re really into this public shit.”

”Ash, please, fuck me,” you grabbed onto the lapel of his jacket, your hips moving against his fingers as he dragged his thumb up and down your clit.

Ashton pushed his lips against the corner of your mouth as he pulled away, his hands going through his pockets as he searched for something, but only finding the panties he tucked away. A frustrated huff left his mouth as he leaned his forehead against yours, hands lightly running up and down your thighs in a soothing manner, almost like an apology.

”I definitely did not think this through,” he let out a resigned chuckle. ”I don’t have any condoms…”

”Your bag?” you asked hopefully, but he shook his head.

”Pretty sure we used them all last time,” he sighed, burrowing his face against your neck. ”Sorry babe.”

”We could…” you bit your bottom lip as you gathered your courage, clearly knowing the risk of your next words, but wanting to share them with Ashton. ”We could do it without one. You just have to pull out.”

”Are you sure about that?” he finally looked up at you, brows furrowed, the question clear in his eyes. ”Cause, fuck, I want you so bad, but I– I don’t want to put you at risk, Y/N. You are worth much more than a quickie in the bathroom.”

”I know. I know,” you cupped his face in your hands, kissing his lips. ”But I trust you, Ash. I want you, please. And doing crazy stuff is basically a trademark for us.”

”Having sex with the stranger from the club?” he grinned, pulling you closer to the edge, already getting sold on the idea.

”Having sex while Calum was passed out on the couch,” you giggled, wrapping your legs around his waist. ”Or fucking against the window in the middle of the day… or sucking your cock while you were on the phone with your boss…”

”Fuck, you really want me, don’t you?” he moaned, pushing his hips closer, his hard cock rubbing against your thigh. ”Are you sure?”

”Hmm, please.”

He stroked his cock up and down between your wet lips, rubbing the tip against your clit before slowly pushing in. Your toes curled as you took him in, the feeling familiar but also so new without the thin rubber between the two of you. Ash looked down as he pulled out, your wetness coating his shaft, and with a groan he quickly thrusted back in.

”Fuck, you feel so soft and hot around me,” his breath hitched as he pushed the last few inches inside. ”I could cum just from this.”

”Not a good idea right now,” you bit his lip, and he hissed at the small pain.

”Next time,” he kissed you roughly, giving the small bite back as he started moving.

You quickly got lost in your little world, the thrill of fucking in a public place and the new sensation of the skin-on-skin contact fuelling your passion in that moment. The door was locked, but who knew if the staff had their own key to open it? The possibility of getting caught made the whole thing much more exciting. Public sex has always been a fantasy in the back of your mind, something to be ashamed of. With Ashton – it was what started it all.

He grabbed your ass to haul you closer, pulling your legs tightly around his hips to fuck you deeper, and you felt yourself tremble as you realized what you were really doing. Even on that first night protection was priority, and it hasn’t changed since then. But there was a certain excitement that came with not using one – a new level of love and trust that you haven’t felt before. Your stomach fluttered at the thought of feeling him inside you like this from now on, and you buried your face in his neck as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot, making you moan.

”So tight, baby, you grip my cock so good,” Ashton panted against your ear as he fucked you, getting more frantic by the second. ”Want to feel you cum around me, wanna feel you on my skin.”

”Ash… more, please…” you swallowed around another moan, grabbing his hair as you pulled him closer. ”More…”

”Anything, love,” he angled your head up to his, whispering on your lips. ”Anything.”

With the slightest shift of his hips Ash started thrusting into you again, hitting all the spots that made you shiver, and it didn’t take him too long to push you over the edge. The pleasure rushed through you from head to toe, and Ashton didn’t stop with his movements, fucking you through your orgasm, making it last longer as the feeling settled deep inside you. His hips stuttered as he mumbled against your skin, the words getting caught in his throat as he rasped out “beautiful”, “so close” and “mine”. You squeezed around his cock at the last one, the word getting a new meaning as his skin dragged against yours, and you felt his body tremble as he realized the significance of it all as well.

Then Ashton pulled out, leaving you clenching around nothing as he wrapped his hand around his cock, quickly jerking himself to reach his own orgasm. He moaned against your mouth as he finally came, and you felt a sudden shiver run through you as you felt his hot cum on your skin – he’d never done that before. You slumped back against the mirror with a needy little whine, and as you looked at yourself you felt another sound escape your throat. Your reflection showed smeared makeup, lips bitten and lipstick staining your chin. Your dress was wrinkled and still bunched around your waist, with Ashton’s cum slowly dripping over your pussy lips and thighs.

”You are the definition of well fucked,” Ash groaned as he looked at you, unable to take his eyes off of his work. ”Fuck baby, I– fuck.”

He quickly tucked himself back into his pants as you still tried to make sense of the new feelings and thoughts running through your mind. It felt deliciously filthy, having Ashton this way, his cum still sticking to your skin as a reminder, and a sudden urge to have more took over you as you remembered his words, ones maybe none of you realized were said in the heat of the moment. Next time.

You caught sight of his movements in the mirror, and you saw him fumbling with his camera, fingers slightly trembling and his bottom lip bitten in concentration. He had that spark in his eyes, the one he got when he was inspired, when he really wanted to take a picture of the thing that caught his attention. He was in full photographer mode, and it was clear he found his next art piece.

”Will you let me? Please?” his lips were on your cheek, peppering kisses against your skin, his question soft, with only a hint of pleading.

”If you’re quick,” you moved your head to brush your lips together, a small smile on your face. ”I need my cuddles.”

Ashton chuckled and stepped back, already focusing his camera on you. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t direct you – he just let you get lost in your afterglow as you leaned against the mirror, following his movements with your eyes. The only sounds in the room were your own heavy breathing and the small clicks coming from the camera as Ashton walked around you, working quickly to capture the moment. These were definitely going into his private collection.

”And what will you call this?” you mumbled against his shoulder as he put his camera down, stepping between your legs to pull you close and hug you to his chest. ”The We fucked in a bathroom series?”

”Filthy Nymph,” he chuckled, kissing your forehead as his hand caressed your back. ”You really are a gorgeous piece of art. Priceless and all mine.”

”Ash,” you grabbed the lapels of his jacket, slightly tugging on them until he looked at you, and you felt your blush darken. ”I– I wanna do this again.”

”This?” he looked around the bathroom, but you shook your head, pushing your face closer to his.

”I want you to fuck me like this again. Without a condom. I– I want to feel you and come around you, and I… want you to come inside me. Fill me up. Make me yours.”

”Fuck, I want that too, baby,” Ash groaned, pressing his lips back against yours in a rough kiss. ”You want it messy? Cause I can definitely give you that.”

”I want all that you can give me,” you nuzzled your face into his neck, sighing happily. ”All of you, Ash.”

”I promise you, you’ll have all of me,” he kissed into your ear, tightening his embrace around you. ”Let’s talk about this at home, okay?”

You nodded against his shoulder, then slowly pulled back to start fixing your appearances. Ash gently cleaned you up, but it took you a few more minutes to get your panties back from him, as he decided that they now belonged to him and you don’t need them when you leave the place. He finally gave them back when you let him take a few more candied shots of you fixing your hair and makeup. Ashton checked the hallway, and when he found it empty, he pulled you after him to sneak back to the exhibit, finishing your round before going back to his place.

”Oh, you two again,” a voice stopped you before you reached the door, and you found Dan grinning from the other end of the hallway. ”Did you get lost?”

”Fucking creep,” Ash mumbled next to you and you needed to stifle your chuckle against his shoulder. ”No, I just wanted to show Y/N that when your pass says all access, it really means that. She thought I made that up.”

”Yeah, perks of the job as we say,” Dan agreed, his eyes landing on you again. ”All access and free entry.”

”Good thing they don’t give out these passes for everything,” you gave him a tight smile. ”Or everyone, for the matter.”

Dan stiffened and a blush crept up his neck at your words, clearly getting caught with where his mind was wandering. Ash patted his shoulder with a laugh, making a comment about seeing him around, then pulled you back to the exhibit, leaving Dan behind.

”Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but that was hot as fuck,” Ashton kissed your cheek as you walked through the rooms, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist. ”He loves getting his grabby hands on stuff that aren’t his. Especially girlfriends.”

”Sadly I already gave my all access pass to someone else,” you smiled, tugging on the card hanging around his neck. ”And I don’t really want to get it back.”

”What a lucky dude he is,” Ash grinned, his hand sliding down to squeeze your ass. ”I’m sure he likes the perks that come with the job. Like the free entry.”

”You’re gonna get me wet again,” you blushed, feeling your stomach flutter as you thought back to your conversation, already imagining what it would feel like being filled up by him.

”Good. Cause I’m planning on enjoying my boyfriend perks once we get home,” he gave a quick slap against your ass, then with a laugh pulled you back to the erotica section.

[eadanga]

My Lost Love Part 11

Summary: Liam a prince fell in love with Gracelyn a palace maid who disappeared from his life years ago. Now king Liam is determined to find his lost love who is harboring a secret

Author Note: This series is for @texaskitten30​ one of the winners of my 400 followers giveaway. Hope you enjoy this

Gracelyn looked in the mirror as she tried on her dress. She smiled as she rubbed her belly “What are you doing in there baby? Are you excited?”

“I know I am” Gracelyn turned around and smiled as she saw Liam behind her. He walked over to her and kneeled down and kissed her stomach “And this pregnancy I’ll be around for I can’t wait to meet you little one”

“The baby can’t wait to meet you too he or she is doing gymnastics right now”

Liam chuckles “Why are you giving your mommy a hard time little guy?”

“You mean little girl”

“Mm hm”

Gracelyn giggles “What if it’s two or three in there Liam?”

“Ah even better” Liam stands and kisses her on the cheek “I’d love to have a million kids with you”

Gracelyn smirks “Then you’re taking care of all of them”

Liam laughs “Oh no you’ll be there too love”

“Nope those million kids will be your problem” She playfully sticks out her tongue

Liam smirks and pulls her closer “Naughty naughty I think my queen needs to be punished”

“What do you-” Liam lifts her up and carries her over to the bed. He climbs on top of her and pins her arms on the top of her head. He trails kisses down her neck as she sighs “Liam…”

“You’re so incredible sexy Gracie” He kisses her deeply then growls “Get on your knees”

She nods and gets on her knees. Liam lifts her dress up and pulls down her underwear. He gives her ass a loud smack “This what happens when you’re naughty you get punished” He smacks her ass again

Gracelyn bites her lips “I’m sorry my king I won’t do it again”

“I don’t believe you” He smacks her ass again

“Please forgive me your majesty”

“Not until you’ve learned your lesson” Liam smirks then pulls her back up “Which I will teach you later tonight”

“You’re such a tease!”

“You love it now pull your panties back up and let’s head to the doctor” Liam heads towards the door and smirks “Don’t make us late”

“Me?!” Liam laughs as Gracelyn rolls her eyes

****

They arrive at the hospital where Dr. Williams waited for them “Hello your majesties ready for your appointment?”

Gracelyn smiles as she squeezed Liam’s hand “Yes we are”

“Great have a seat” Gracelyn sits on the table and lies back “This is gonna be a little cold” He poured the gel on her and he put the fetal heart monitor to her stomach. Gracelyn grinned as she saw a small image of a body appear on the screen “There’s your baby”

“Our baby” She turned to Liam who was grinning wide

Thump thump thump “There’s your babies heart beat a good and healthy size for 8 weeks too early to determine the gender but everything looks good” He press a button and it prints out the ultrasound picture.

Liam takes it smiling wide “Beautiful I can’t wait till he or she comes”

“Me too”

“I love you so much Gracie”

“I love you too Liam” He kisses her softly

****

6 months later…

Gracelyn laid down on the bed feeling exhausted after all the meetings she had this week Being a queen is hard work I’m just gonna take this time to myself. She closed her eyes and slept for a while till she was awoken by soft kisses on her neck.

“Wake up my queen”

“5 more minutes”

Liam chuckles and gently shakes her “You can go back to sleep later but right now I need you to get dressed and come with me”

Gracelyn mumbles “Where are we going that’s more important than sleep?”

“You’ll know when you follow me”

Gracelyn sighs and sits up “Ok Liam it better be good”

“Have I ever stirred you wrong?”

Gracelyn smiles “No you haven’t”

“Good now put on that dress” He points to a gold sparkling gown hanging

“Did you pick that dress out?”

Liam smiles “I chose the one that would make you shine the most”

“It’s beautiful Liam help me put it on”

“Of course my queen”

He helps her into her dress and shoes and they head down the hall “Are you ever gonna tell me where we’re going?”

“Be patient love we’re almost there”

He opens the door and they enter a dark room “Liam why are we-”

The lights turn on and everyone jumps out “SURPRISE!!!”

Gracelyn’s eyes go wide then she laughs “What’s all this?”

“It’s your baby shower love”

“Thank you, You guys didn’t have to do all this”

Hana skips up to her “But we wanted to I organized everything to make sure it was spectacular”

“Thanks Hana”

Maxwell grins “Now can we get on with the party there’s a bunch of new dance moves I have”

Drake rolls his eyes “It’s a baby shower Maxwell not a dance party”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t still party by the way why is it called a baby shower where’s the shower part?”

Gracelyn and Liam laugh as Drake sighs. Hana claps to get everyone’s attention “Alright everyone let’s get the party started”

Liam walked Gracelyn over to a large pink chair covered in flowers “Your throne your majesty”

“Thank you my king”

Gracelyn sat down as she ate food and received all her gifts. Lorelai walked up to her “Mommy I made this for my new baby sister”

“You mean baby brother”

“Sister daddy!”

Liam chuckles “We shall see”

“Here you go mommy” She holds up a drawing and Gracelyn smiles

“This is beautiful honey you’re getting good at drawing”

“I wanna be an artist like you mommy”

“I’m glad thank you baby” Gracelyn hugs her

“I love you mommy”

“Love you too sweetie”

****

“Push!” Gracelyn squeezed Liam’s hand as she pushed “That’s it you’re doing good take a breather”

“You can do it love”

“Hurry and get this baby out of me!!!”

“Push!” As Gracelyn pushes harder she looks at Liam “This is your fault! I’m never having sex with you again!”

Liam chuckles “You don’t mean that”

“You’re not the one giving birth you don’t know how painful this is!”

Liam smiles and rest his forehead against hers “Everything is gonna be fine. You’re doing great”

“Push!” Gracelyn pushes “I can see the head now give me one more big push”

She pushes one last time then a loud cry is heard “We have a beautiful baby girl!”

“I knew it! You owe me Liam”

Liam laughs “Of course”

“Wanna cut the cord dad?” Liam grins and cuts the cord. The doctors wrap her up in blankets “Here’s your new daughter your majesty”

Liam smiles as tears stream down his face “Hi there I’m your daddy. She’s beautiful Gracie” Liam hands her over to Gracelyn who cries

“She has your eyes”

“We make beautiful children” Liam kisses her on the cheek “What shall we name her?”

“Well with Lorelai my mom picked the name so I think you should pick”

“Hmm how about Sierra Annabelle Rhys”

Gracelyn smiles “I love that”

****

Gracelyn stood in the kitchen making a bottle for Sierra. Liam wrapped his arm around her “Morning love how are you doing today?”

“Good a bit sleepy she woke up once during the night but I got her back to sleep just making her breakfast”

“I’ll get Lorelai you know she always wants to watch”

Gracelyn giggles and heads out the door. Liam heads to Lorelai’s room she grins as he enters “Hi daddy”

“Morning mommy’s gonna go feed your sister now”

“Yay let’s go see daddy”

Liam chuckles “I love that you love her so much” He leans in “Just wait till you both get older you’ll be screaming get out of my room!”

Lorelai laughs “Did you do that daddy?”

“With your Uncle Leo always taking my stuff and pulling pranks yeah”

“Liam!!!!!!”

Liam turned to the sound of Gracelyn screaming “Bastien!”

“Yes your majesty”

“Something’s wrong guard her”

“Of course your majesty”

Liam ran to the nursery and saw Gracelyn on her knees crying “Love what is it? What’s wrong?”

“She gone! Our baby is gone!”

“What?!” Liam rush over to the crib and saw it empty

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