#but as soon as i type 's' into my search bar its the first thing that comes up

[princesskennyaf]

"Okay time to work on my wip"

*spends almost 45 minutes scrolling through the alter ego tabs on on the main 5 boys on the sp fandom wiki*

[ecliptsukki]

his delinquent phase ❧ kaoru sakurayashiki // cherry blossom

navigation | music

➣ genre: fluff

➣ warnings: adam’s existence 

➣ request: can i request a one shot where you’re cherrys s/o and like childhood best friends with joe and cherry and adam and you’re gushing over cherrys old bad boy look with piercings and everuthing and cherry one day goes to S with his piercings and hair the same way as before just to see you fawn over him skjfks

➣ a/n: this took me three times to type up because the first two times i did it, tumblr thought it would be funny to delete it. i’m not sure if i love how this came out, but it’s still better than my original plan. hopefully this was correct to what the anon requested. enjoy!

ps: i’m also going to be going on a trip for four days tomorrow, so i’m not sure if i’ll be able to post. i’ll definitely try to start working on my other requests!

You had known Joe, Cherry, and Adam ever since the four of you were in high school. Out of the three, you had met Joe, first, not soon before you met Cherry.

You were walking down the eventful streets of Okinawa, admiring the sights and getting accustomed with the area. You had moved to the city not too long ago and already were growing attached to the place. In your defense, the city was your perfect and desired location to live in. 

A gentle breeze blew through your hair, rustling the leaves of the green trees. You sighed at the feeling of the cool breeze tickling your warm skin. Not long after that breeze had gone, another, harsher breeze blew past you. You flinched at the abnormally sharp wind, snapping your head to the side, in its direction. You were met with honey red eyes and short, green locks, swaying. 

The male slips past you, stopping abruptly.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, embarrassed, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You were in awe, seeing what the boy was standing on, and on alert because you had always been taught to be cautious around strangers, especially when you were walking alone. 

“Um, no. I’m alright, just shocked,” you shrugged, replying quietly.

Another harsh, but gentler than before, wind blows past you, revealing a pink-haired male. He had three piercings on his ear and one on his lip. Half of the boy’s face was hidden by his long bangs, allowing your focus to lock on his golden eye.

“Watch where you’re going,” he snaps at his green-haired friend. “Sorry about him,” he apologizes, giving you a polite smile.

All the sirens were going off in your head.

He has so many piercings! Is he a delinquent? Are both of them delinquents? If they are, I can’t fight them off on my own. What do I do?

“I’m Kaoru,” the bubblegum-haired male suddenly said, “This is Kojiro.”

Kojiro nodded at you, an embarrassed blush still grazing his cheeks. 

“Hey, aren’t you the new kid?” Kaoru asked, finding your puzzlingly familiar.

“Oh, that’s why I felt like I’ve met you before,” Kojiro spoke up, nodding his head when he realized who you were.

Awkwardly, you shyly respond, “Sorry, I can’t seem to remember seeing you guys at school. Are you in my class?”

Until dusk, the three of you talked, getting to know the each of you better. You were also able to befriend the boys you were so afraid of, becoming your first two friends in the city.

You met Adam in the dark of night, beside Cherry and Joe.

They had brought you along, one night, wanting to skate with you. You already knew the basics of skating, nothing more, nothing less. Therefore, as your closest, and only, friends, they wanted to get further acquainted with you in something they loved. 

“Who’s the sweet cheeks?” His hoodie-covered eyes left an eerie pressure on you, causing goosebumps to emerge from your skin.

“This is our close friend, Y/N L/N,” Cherry spoke up.

“She goes to school with us, and we wanted to bring her skating. Mind her tagging along?” Joe asks his hooded friend.

“Not at all, just as long as she can keep up,” he spoke in a cocky tone.

The pretentious attitude the unnamed face had was irking you in the wrong way. He seemed too mysterious for your liking. A third of the boy’s face was hidden in the shadow of his hoodie, leaving you only able to see the blue tips of his hair and his structured nose. 

He must’ve noticed your timid stare because he looks at you, under his hood, “Call me Adam.”

 Cherry and Joe look at you expectingly.

“Just call me sweet cheeks, for now,” you reply, distantly, not ready to let your guard down just yet.

You hear your two friends sigh, chuckling to each other.

“Don’t worry, she’ll warm up to you, soon,” Cherry told Adam, “We know firsthand how she is with meeting new people.”

You blush, remembering your first encounter with the pair.

Thinking back, you still regret letting your walls down and accepting Adam as a friend. Not a day goes by that Adam doesn’t linger in your mind, as much as you’d hate to admit. 

You despise that man with a passion. From your first interaction, you should’ve known that there was something off about the blue-haired male, but pondering on these frustrations now wouldn’t change anything. As much as you’d like to curse the man for hurting your friends’ and your feelings, you knew you had to move on.

You sat on the soft mattress of your shared bed, scrolling through old pictures stored on your phone. You saw pictures taken by Kaoru when you guys went on dates. Majority of the photos were candid, seeing as he always had told you that you were the “most photogenic woman” he had ever met.

You remember the day he had told you that. You also remember your laughed reply.

“Then you’ve got the whole world to explore, my love.”

Although, honestly, you thought Kaoru was quite the photogenic one himself. His gorgeous, sorted, pink hair matched with his golden eyes and perfect face never looked bad, not even at the crack of dawn or in the late of night. 

Speaking of which, you scrolled upon a photograph of Kaoru sitting all pretty with his piercings on display. Those piercings brought back many memories, humorous and lustful.

Ironically, the thing that brought you fear before now brings you yearning.

Honestly, once you had befriended Kaoru and came to trust him, the piercings no longer frightened you but instead, fascinated you. Those metal hoops further increased your attraction to the ponytailed man, leading you to the relationship you were in now.

Obviously, Kojiro played a big role in setting the two of you up together because both of you were completely oblivious to the other’s feelings. It got to the point that Adam almost had to step in and wack some sense into the both of you.

Anyways, ever since Kaoru had started working in the calligraphy business, he removed his piercings to maintain a professional image. You detested the idea, but you also knew that it was the best for his business. 

Now that you were looking back at photos of Kaoru as a teenager, you began to crave seeing him in those metal rings once more. You missed the “bad boy” look your boyfriend used to have, not that you didn’t appreciate how he looked now. It’s just that there’s a different vibe to his current and past aesthetics.

As you stalked through more pictures of teenage Kaoru, you were unaware of the very man you were thinking about watching you. He noticed the longing and craving in your gaze. Then, he caught a glimpse of what was being projected on your screen: it was him but in his teenage years. 

Suddenly, everything clicked for Kaoru, and he had the perfect plan in mind.

Something was off. Usually your boyfriend would insist on bringing you to “S” himself but not today. If anything, he was urging you to go with Kojiro.

“He’s been your friend for the same amount of time as I. You should take this time to your advantage and catch up,” was Kaoru’s excuse.

First of all, catch up on what? It’s not like you haven’t talked to Kojiro in months. Actually, you talked to him a day ago, at “S.” Secondly, what’s up with the sudden lenience and weak excuses?

Joe, who was also in on the plan, tried to help his friend out, making a feeble attempt to lure you with free food.

“I can get free food from you whenever I want,” you replied, squinting suspiciously at your friend.

“Not with that attitude, you can’t.” That pulled a raised brow from you and a regret-filled face from the muscular man.

Though you weren’t fully convinced that nothing was off, you still left with Joe, caving into their terrible attempts of covering up whatever they were hiding from you.

You had arrived at “S” with Joe for about ten minutes now, but there was still no sightings of your beloved, Cherry. Joe caught glimpse of your searching eyes and reassured you that he would be coming, be it later than usual.

Reki, Langa, and Miya had made their way over to you, sparking up a conversation with you, making you forget about the missing presence of a specific male. 

Miya was explaining the new training regiment and diet he was to use in order to advance his strength, leading you to worry for the small teenager. If he didn’t eat enough, it could become fatal to him. You didn’t understand why a child was being treated so harshly by his managers, forcing him to eat barely anything and train long hours of the day. 

You were concernedly asking Miya if he was feeling alright and offered him an energy bar you carried around in case of emergencies, which he gratefully accepted, when you heard the cheers of fangirls behind you. Knowing they weren’t meant for Joe, you turned around to meet the golden eyes you’d fallen in love with.

This time, there was something different. His face wasn’t hidden by his mask. You could see the pale skin of his cheeks and the pink of his lips. Besides the absence of the black cloth, you noticed metallic rings decorating your boyfriend’s lip and ears. Also, his hair wasn’t whipping behind him, as per usual, but laid low, drifting in the wind.

For a hot moment, you had thought you had finally lost it, but when you blinked your eyes, looking at Miya then back to Cherry, you realized you were still sane and your boyfriend still looked like he aged back into his high school days.

“Is that Cherry?” Miya asked from beside you.

You nodded, speechless.

You heard someone let out a loud laugh beside you, “Since when did he have piercings?”

Ignoring the redhead’s outburst, you were mesmerized by the Cherry you had been obsessing over a couple days ago. It felt like one extravagant dream that you didn’t want to wake up from. In your defense, as he stepped of his skateboard, coming to embrace you, he looked straight out of a fantasy. His skin was practically glowing, and his hair gently floated perfectly onto his shoulders.

“Hello, darling,” he spoke in a sultry voice, placing a soft kiss to your forehead as he held you in his muscular arms.

“K-Kao—” you quickly realize your soon-to-be mistake and fix it, “Cherry.”

His eyes shrink as he laughs, endearingly, admiring the flustered and confused look you were portraying.

“Is this why you and Joe were being so weird earlier today?” You asked, cheek pressed against his slim, toned chest.

“Indeed, my love. What do you think? Definitely brings back some memories of the old days,” he lifts your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“I love it. It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” you smile brightly, eyes lustrous. Pushing yourself up on your toes, you whisper into his ear, “You also look really hot.” You quickly pull away, turning a vibrant red.

“I think you broke her,” Joe told his friend, placing a heavy hand on the pink-nette’s shoulder.

After the supposed one occurrence surprise, you began to avidly ask him to wear his piercings, loving how attractive and domineering he looked in them. If he denied, you would ask him to, at least, tie his hair in the relaxed half up half down hairdo. He didn’t mind the different hairstyle as much as he did the piercings so it became a normal look for him. The only times he would willingly put on his piercings were when he was going to “S” or when the two of you were safe in the comfort of your own home, for research purposes.

[j-wont-stop]

The Scarred (Chapter Four)

Title - The Scarred (Chapter Four)

Word Count - 2002

Fandom -  Batman: The Dark Knight

Pairing - Ledger!Joker x OC

Summary - Penelope Bishop works at a florist shop in Gotham, barely getting by in the corrupted city. Her life is shrouded by therapy and judgement with little light to find her way with. However, when a certain painted face starts making himself known to her, things take a turn.

Warning(s) - Light cussing, flashbacks/nightmares, smoking

Inspiration - Cold (Aqualung & Lucy Schwartz)

Masterlist

A/N - Sorry for the later post, I’ve been on 12 hour shifts lately and it’s messing up my schedule :/

“The hell is happening?” Penelope whispered to herself as she stared with a wide eye. She carded a hand through her hair, unsure of what to do, what to think. Whoever was behind this, they were intelligent. Patient and calculative. It frightened her. It frightened her and yet she hadn’t even met the person. That was the most unnerving part about it all.

Her hands moved to pick up the larger shards to throw away, then to grab the broom and sweep the rest. She scrambled to look through every hatch, every door, cabinet and closet for anything that might have been left behind. Yet there was nothing. Once more, the only sign that someone had been there was the face that had been cleared already. There was no lingering smell, not even a hair.

“Okay,” She muttered. “Okay-okay.” Her mouth rambled on as she carried out her night routine, heart pounding faster than she would have appreciated as she tried to relax under the warm stream of water. Her feet padded against the cold tile as she tended to her scars, pacing the small room before throwing on her pajamas. She raced to her jacket, fumbling through the pockets for her phone and shuffled through her contacts. The coldness of it rested against her ear as she chewed on her cheek, wiggling the fingers of her left hand absentmindedly.

“Penny?” The familiar voice made her perk up. “What’s up?”

“I just needed someone to talk to…” The woman practically whispered. She made her way to lay on her bed, listening attentively to the shuffling in the background over the phone.

“Oh, ’course, hun,” Emma had an underlying tone of understanding in her voice. “Did everything hold up okay at the shop?” Penelope thought back to the bald man.

“Yeah-everything went fine. Sold three vases.” She started fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“Three? That’s amazing!”

The voices echoed in the auditorium, the petite woman messing with the tassel that hung from her head. Everyone migrated to their families after having all walked the stage, visiting friends from time to time to say their goodbyes or reminisce in their memories. The woman searched for a familiar brunette bun, but her height made it all the more difficult.

“Penny!” She turned to face the voice, but was soon met with engorging flames. They towered over them all, everyone screaming and scattering in a panic. “Penny!” The voice screeched again, but no matter how many times she spun around and searched, she couldn’t find them. She started sweating profusely, both from the heat and stress of it all. Flames licked her skin, almost teasing it before it grew volatile.

Penelope’s eye snapped open, breathing heavily. Her hair stuck to her skin from the cold sweat she was left in. She laid there for a moment or two, collecting herself as best as she could. She listened to the wind humming through her window, the birds chirping as the sun’s first rays peaked through the clouds. She closed her eye again, imagining the bird. What kind of bird it was, what it was doing. Perhaps it was a swallow? It’s boring, brown feathers smooth as they glided and fluttered. The curious black eyes that fidgeted as it cocked and turned its head.

She took deep breaths, opening her eye once more to sit herself up on the edge of her twin bed. She stared at the soft carpet below her, loathing herself for waking up at such an ungodly hour. The faintest shade of blue colored the sky if she were to squint. Penelope then stood, stumbling over to her dresser to change out of her now drenched sleepwear. She thought about taking a quick heat dump to cool her off, but the amount of energy it took for her to get in the shower right now made her shudder, so she settled with splashing cold water on her face instead.

She trudged into the living room to her box TV, turning it on and having the low noise of the news play in the background as she migrated to the kitchen. She decided to simply pop an egg sandwich from the freezer into the microwave, pouring herself a glass of milk to go along with it. She bounced when she plopped onto the couch, pulling the lap blanket from the top of it to wrap herself up in. Her eye stared at the screen with a bored expression, heavy as she watched.

With how consistent the news was it was a wonder to her how it was never a rerun. The same news anchor, the same monotone voice with the same type of news. A new murder case, Bruce Wayne’s next trip to an extravagant venue, cloudy skies with an expected drizzle all week. None of it came as a surprise to her anymore.

Crime rates continued to slowly increase, the mob being thrown into a tizzy ever since The Joker showed up. Little changed since he was caught and put in Arkham. If anything, the people just grew into a rampage once they found out what had happened to their newfound idol. Penelope would be lying, however, if she said she wasn’t intrigued. From what she had seen on the news and heard from around the city, he was a very finicky person. He seemed so clumsy and careless, yet was always the one in control. No one could ever predict what he would do next, keeping everyone on their toes at all times.

She somewhat felt bad for the first responders who seemed to just be ragdolled from one end of the city to the other or thrown into ever frequent traps when he was out and about. She couldn’t deny that the thought of it made her snicker, wondering how they hadn’t learned their lesson the first few times. How they thought that The Joker being locked up would put their minds at ease. It was all a joke.

A vibration sounded from her phone and she looked to where it buzzed on the coffee table, the green icon showing that she had received a message. She reached over and picked it up, flipping it open in curiosity.

I’m stopping by Gotham Coffee. Want anything?

Emma. Penelope smiled at her phone, fingers moving to reply when another buzz went off. An unknown number, and all that was sent was the number twelve. That was all she needed to know who it was.

———————————————————————

The two women sat at the counter, sipping casually from their now cold coffee cups as they made small talk. Emma noticed how tense Penelope had seemed when she first entered the shop, what with her stiff posture and gaze cast down on the floor more so than usual, so it was a relief to see her smile a little more the longer they talked. They had just finished with one of their many giggle fits when the bell of the shop went off, cutting it short. Their heads snapped to the front and Penelope’s stomach dropped, mouth suddenly dry.

Once again, the light of the shop reflected off of the bald man’s head as his eyes focused on her own. With every step he took she felt as if she just shrunk smaller and smaller. It wasn’t until he stood directly in front of them that she shot up from her seat, scrambling into the back room to grab the vase she previously prepared. Her multitude of tiny footsteps echoed from the back as Emma and the man practically held a staring contest, the latter holding a sickly sweet smile. When Penelope emerged from the back room with the vase her arms shakily handed it to him, sucking on her bottom lip anxiously. With how rough he seemed, the gentleness with which he handled the vase amused her. But she wouldn’t dare show it. Emma looked over at Penelope as soon as he left.

“Was he one of the three vases?” She quipped, quirking an eyebrow. Penelope took a deep breath in, then casted her a sheepish smile.

“Four.” Emma stood to throw away their coffee cups. “He paid yesterday. Said he was picking it up at noon today.”

“How much?” Penelope’s mouth started to water, mouth faltering as she tried to form a response.

“Just twenty-five.” Emma, always having been good at reading people, knew she was being lied to, but for her friend’s sake decided not to push. She knew that if Penelope ever held something back, she did so for good reason. She just chuckled.

“How was it when he ordered it?” Her voice took on an amused tone. “‘Begonia and baby’s breath, please’.” She mocked the man, driving the two of them back into a giggling fit. They wasted the day away talking, trying to busy themselves one way or another until the end of the day. The last hour was the hardest. In silence they sat and watched the grandfather clock tucked away in a corner. Yet it only worsened their predicament.

Fridays had always been slower than any other day, and it was on Fridays that they truly realized that time was never on their side. When they had fun, it flew by. When they wanted something to just be over with, it dragged on. It was cruel. Time was cruel. Life was cruel. Penelope knew these things. So when the clock sounded at the hour they were out the front door, Emma locking up the shop and tossing Penelope a smile. They gave each other their ‘goodbye’s and ‘have a good weekend’s and made their way back to their respective homes. The city was in chaos, full of eager citizens who all wanted the same thing as Emma and Penelope. Some had already made their ways into their local bars, choosing to drown out their lives or celebrate simply because they made it through another week.

As for Penelope, she sat on the edge of her open windowsill and watched. A cigarette balanced between her lips as she struck a match and lit the end of it, shaking it out as she breathed in the all-needed nicotine. Her weekly treat. She rested her head on the wall beside her, the buzz starting to get to her after a significantly larger inhale. She stared out at the scenery in wonder, mind finding its first moment of peace since the last time she had a smoke.

Then a sudden knocking on her door jolted her from her spot, the stick nearly falling from her mouth. She quickly put it out in the ashtray next to her and climbed down to close her window, bare feet skittering across the floor. She stood on her tip-toes to look through the peep-hole, yet no one stood at the door. She unlatched it and opened it cautiously, peeking through until something caught her eye. She opened the door a bit wider to see a familiar vase sat on top of her welcome mat. Her vase. She noticed something dangling off to the side and delicately picked up the flowers to see what it was, and what she saw made her heart make its way to her throat. A playing card. A Joker card dangled from the vase.

[lemonpeter]

Desperate

@preciouspeterbparker is an enabler 💕 and I love her for it. She sent me a concept for my au I’d explained a little while before and I was OBSESSED, so I’m sure hoping I did it justice 💕

Warnings: the whole thing is extremely nff, a/b/o, both alpha and omega Peter (I explain it here), alpha Tony, very brief bottom Tony (like one paragraph right at the beginning and Peter thinking about it), s*x toy use god I hope this shows up in the tags

@serrabloodsong

————

“Come on, baby, give it to me,” Tony panted, pressing his hips back until they were flush against Peter’s.

Peter groaned, holding onto his alpha’s hips as he kept fucking forward. He’d never felt anything so incredible, addicted to the vice-like grip of Tony’s ass. It was tight and slick and so different than the stimulation he got from just being fucked.

“I’m so close, Tony.” A soft whine escaped his throat as his hips lost their rhythm. He could feel the tension in his belly about to snap as he approached his high.

His eyes snapped open as soon as he finished, a weak moan leaving him. His hips stuttered forward as he spilled across the pillow that was tucked between his legs. His hand dropped between his legs to squeeze at his knot, now fully grown, the sensation causing his body to jolt and another spurt of cum to leak onto the pillow.

Once he had completely ridden out his high, he went lax against the bed. He was slightly sore from the amount of tension his body had held, but he’d heal. He was more concerned about the dream.

It was the fifth one that week.

Sure, it wasn’t abnormal for him to have wet dreams. Even with all the sex he had, his drive was so high that he was often waking up to slick-soaked sheets and a bit of a wet patch on the blanket.

No, the concerning part was how he was on top in every dream. And how he woke up with a popped knot.

He was a genetic miracle, having presented with characteristics of both an alpha and omega. But since he was primarily omega, it was extremely rare for him to knot anything, or even have the urge to. He always bottomed with Tony and that made him happy. He didn’t need anything else.

But his alpha side seemed to want to be brought to light suddenly. He’d been dreaming about fucking his alpha, something he’d never seriously considered before. And he woke up every morning with his knot buried in a pillow he’d been fucking unconsciously.

He didn’t know what to do.

There was no way that he could ask Tony about anything like that. For the most part they ignored his differences, especially during sex. As far as either of them were concerned he was strictly omega during those times. So it would have been odd to bring up the alpha bottoming occasionally.

And there was also the issue of pain. Alphas weren’t designed to take a knot. And it was pretty impossible without a ton of prep, which Peter was fairly sure neither of them completely knew what to do. There was no way he would hurt Tony ever. So he figured it was best to just...leave it.

Which worked...for about a week.

He kept having the dreams, but luckily Tony left for work before Peter got up, so he never saw his partner’s predicament. Peter let himself ride out the high every morning and then hid the evidence by quickly tossing everything into the washer.

It was easy enough to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary was happening. He dealt with it first thing in the morning and then got on with his day.

But then the thoughts started bleeding into his conscious mind.

He’d eat lunch with Tony when he had a break and find himself fantasizing about what it would be like to have the alpha bent over the table for him. His mind would conjure up images of Tony’s body eagerly taking his cock. Then his knot after.

Peter imagined watching in fascination and pride as his cum dripped from the alpha’s puffy hole after they were done.

His cheeks burned as the alpha brought up how distracted he seemed. “What? Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking about...class.” Like his daily physics work would cause him to space out and drool like that.

But Tony didn’t argue, just shrugging off the answer with an, “Alright, honey.”

The excuses and zoning out were becoming all too common for Peter.

He knew that he needed to find a solution. It wasn’t going to work if he kept up how he was going.

Since he was the only person with his condition (that he was aware of), it wasn’t like he could just hop on Google and look up a solution to his highly specific problem. But maybe he could figure out smaller questions and find solutions for those instead of the big picture.

And that was how he found himself in front of his computer, staring at the search bar. In incognito mode, of course. He wouldn’t be able to look Tony in the eye if these searches were discovered.

He wasn’t quite sure where to start. The entire thing felt a bit overwhelming to him, especially since he couldn’t just find an answer for the entire thing. He had to break it up and he didn’t quite know how to.

So he tried to start simple.

‘alpha wet dream fix’

The only results he got there were articles about why wet dreams happen and instructing to just have more sexual release in the day to day life. Which he already got, he knew that wasn’t the issue.

On to the next search.

‘male omega want to top’

All that came up was porn. Pages and pages of porn.

He clicked on one link, heart pounding as he watched the small omega in the video fucking his alpha hard and fast. The alpha encouraged him the whole time, spouting words of encouragement in between sounds of obvious pleasure.

It was incredibly hot. But not exactly what he was looking for.

‘Knotting in sleep’

He got more porn, somnophilia this time. He tried to reword his search, looking into ‘alpha alone sleep knotting’.

Some more porn, but then he thought maybe he saw a search that could be helpful. His eyes skimmed over the article after he clicked on it.

“‘Sometimes an alpha will involuntarily knot during sleep, most often...if they haven’t had stimulation regularly.’” Peter read out loud, fingers tapping against his temple.

He didn’t get it. Well, he got it. But it didn’t make any sense.

He hadn’t done anything but bottom for years. And he was completely okay with it. The alpha urges hadn’t been there.

But suddenly they were. And he absolutely couldn’t figure out why.

His fingers drummed against his desk as he tried to figure out what to do next. Of course, he didn’t figure that there was any way he’d get a straight answer for what was going on with him. It was just like everything else in his life, a lot of questions with no real answers.

His eyes drifted over the search results again and he hummed as he reached the ‘also asked’ questions.

“‘How can a single alpha safely knot?’” He read off, clicking to expand the tab until the associated link came up. He clicked it as well, eyebrows raised.

There wasn’t much he actually knew about the alpha biology. Even after presenting, he figured it wouldn’t matter since he was mainly omega anyways. It had never occurred to him that maybe knotting outside of a confined environment wouldn’t be safe.

Reading over the Q&A the link brought him to, he realized that he was lucky he hadn’t been hurt by his nightly activities. Even if none of it had been on purpose.

Luckily, he was also supplied with solutions.

“A toy?” Peter mumbled. The only toy he’d ever owned was a dildo with a fake knot on it. And as far as he knew Tony didn’t own anything like what he was seeing in the pictures.

But he didn’t have another choice, really. The sleeve would provide him with a chance to test out knotting on his own and was a safe way to do it.

So he clicked over to another tab, looking up alpha-specific sex toys. And there were...a lot of results.

The alpha part of his brain seemed to switch on, immediately thinking of how each toy would feel on him and which would be best. He scrolled through pages, flipped between stores, all to end up ordering just one. A basic fleshlight that he hoped would do the job. It claimed to be for knotting as well, so he had hope that it would be good.

As he added a few different types of synthetic slick to his cart, he prayed that Tony didn’t look too closely at how he was spending money. But he knew it was all going to come out to a decent sum.

He’d deal with that when he came to it.

After confirming all of the orders, he stood up from the desk and headed back to the bedroom. He grabbed his tablet on the way, determined to continue his research. There had to be some explanation for his sudden urges.

He just had to put in the effort to figure out what it was.

***

Despite how he’d read it was dangerous, his body refused to stop its morning wake up call of an unbelievable orgasm and a fully swollen knot.

He still seemed safe, so he didn’t stress about it too much. It just gave him a bit more pause every time it happened.

And the stimulation felt so good, he couldn’t help but want it to continue on some level. But as always, the knot shrunk again once he had come down from his high and he couldn’t seem to figure out a way to get it back. The only time he was able to knot was from those dreams, his intense fantasies of fucking his alpha.

Great.

His mind was almost constantly on the concept now. He couldn’t stop thinking about it no matter how hard he tried. All of his daydreams became about topping Tony in various positions and locations. Then the daydreams snuck into his normal thoughts again. And every moment felt like one long daydream.

Only his alpha wasn’t really part of any of it, since Peter still hadn’t told him. And he didn’t plan on doing so.

It definitely made things harder. But he didn’t want to freak Tony out by revealing how needy his alpha side was getting or make him feel guilty for not wanting to bottom.

He could take care of himself. That would be alright.

***

“Pete, a package came for you,” Tony called, getting ready to leave back for work after his lunch break. “Friday just informed me that it’s at the front desk downstairs, so you can go get that.” He didn’t ask what it was, too preoccupied by thoughts of work and all he had to get done.

Which was perfectly fine with Peter.

He looked up as Tony talked, eyes widening slightly. It had to have been his toy (and the other things purchased with it.) He didn’t have a habit of purchasing much, so it had to be that if it came specifically for him.

As soon as the alpha had left, he raced downstairs to get the package. And he was ripping into the box without shame instantly when he was upstairs again.

He so badly wanted to try it out. He was desperate to knot, needing to feel how good things could be.

Peter looked over the toy, almost fascinated as he studied it. It was just like it had been in the picture, a smooth plastic body covering a soft silicone sleeve. The entrance looked almost disturbingly like his own pussy, soft pink-flushed lips spread slightly around a small hole.

He could feel himself slicking just from looking at it. And his cock was getting interested as well, slowly starting to chub up in his soft sweatpants.

There was no way he wanted to wait any longer. He was desperate to knot, his alpha side frustrated but calming gradually at the promise of knotting the toy. So he tossed the box in the trash, gathered the lube, and carried everything to the bedroom.

Once he was there, he set everything on the bed while he slowly stripped. His boxers were tossed into the hamper, already soaked through with slick. He was so easily worked up it was almost embarrassing.

But he didn’t dwell on it, sitting on the bed once he was completely bare. The bottles of lube sat next to the sleeve, seemingly begging to be picked up.

He grabbed one, reading the label. It claimed to be the best in the business, bragging about its slide. And that was good enough for Peter. He tore the packaging off and clicked the top open.

While he poured the liquid over his fingers, he looked at the toy again. “How am I doing this?” He wondered out loud, picking it up with his clean hand.

He got an idea, sliding his wet fingers over the lips of the entrance. And his cock gave a twitch as he looked at it.

It looked good, but he knew just a little lube wouldn’t be enough. So he grabbed the bottle again, pouring some of the fake slick directly into the sleeve.

And oh, it looked incredible.

It was a vulgar sight, slick dripping from the pussy. And he couldn’t wait to fuck it.

He set the bottle of lube to the side, laying on his back as he figured out what he was going to do. It seemed like a good start to just...fuck up into the toy while lying on his back. It would be a comfortable enough position to lay in when- well, if he knotted it. But he was pretty sure he’d be able to.

His hand wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking it a couple times before letting go again. He was definitely hard, erection laying heavy against his belly. But his knot stayed small, barely visible at the base.

He knew that would change soon.

He held onto his cock, positioning the toy just above it in order to start.

When he slowly started sinking the sleeve over him, he wondered why he hadn’t considered getting one sooner. It was so tight and wet and-

Completely overwhelming.

The toy was only halfway down his cock before his muscles were tensing and he was spilling into it. Just like that. No buildup, no knot, not even any actual fucking.

“Fuck, oh- shit,” he breathed, cheeks burning in embarrassment. Thank god no one was there to see him. He’d just cum like a virgin, despite being nowhere close.

Although...technically he was one when it came to topping. He hadn’t thought about that.

He pulled the sleeve off again, face still bright red. “I...wow. I didn’t expect that,” he whispered into the silent room.

The first try definitely hadn’t gone how he expected it to. But he was reminded that he had an incredibly short recovery period. Evident from how his cock had never gone fully soft and was already beginning to fill out again.

So he didn’t waste any time before he was slipping the toy onto him again, making sure to take a long pause to make sure he was under control before moving it any.

He came embarrassingly fast a few more times before he was able to actually start fucking it. And every single time his knot stayed uninvolved. No matter how good it felt to fuck into the faux pussy, he would have an incredible orgasm but his knot refused to grow.

He was lost in the pleasure and frustration as he kept going, continuing to work himself up and fuck the toy. It lasted longer every time, although he lost count of the rounds he’d done.

Probably somewhere around...five? Six? He had no idea. The first few had been so short they barely counted in his mind.

But he was finally in the best one, it felt like. It was lasting longer than the rest and if he focused hard enough it was like he could feel a faint tingling in his knot.

His high was approaching quickly and he knew it, nearly praying that his knot would finally pop this time.

But he got distracted for just a moment when he heard something.

Peter froze momentarily as he heard the bedroom door creaking open, but he didn’t keep still for long. Even if he had been caught, he needed to cum. Obviously he’d been found out anyways, he might as well finish what he was doing.

How was Tony home already? It had only been…

He glanced to the alarm clock quickly, groaning as he saw the time. He’d been going for hours. How had he fucked the day away like that?

And it was, indeed, time for Tony to be home.

“Honey?” The alpha asked curiously, stepping inside the room and looking right at the bed. He raised his eyebrows as he noticed what he was looking at, however. The sight before him definitely wasn’t what he’d expected.

Peter looked at him, a guilty look flashing over his face briefly before changing to one of pleasure again. “Tony,” he moaned. “I- oh, fuck, please.”

Tony didn’t know what he was begging for. Or maybe he did, but he was too stunned to figure it out. “Peter….” He’d never seen his partner like this.

But he didn’t hate it.

He watched how Peter’s hips kept thrusting frantically, fucking into a toy so quickly his motions were little more than a blur. And his words were flooding out before he could even think about it. “That’s it, baby. Come on, you can do it. You need to cum? Go ahead, baby. You’re doing so well.”

A choked moan pulled itself from Peter’s throat at the encouragement. And it was just what he needed to reach another high.

He twitched forward, grinding against the toy as he spilled into it. Cum dripped out of the sides, his loads still nearly full even after his fucking-marathon. “Fuck, Tony,” he whimpered, chest heaving with his breaths.

He hadn’t wanted to tell his alpha what was going on with him. But the look in Tony’s eyes made him think that maybe it would have been okay.

In his panic and high he hadn’t even initially noticed that he still hadn’t popped his knot. But he realized it once he was immediately able to pull out of the toy to move closer to the alpha who was still standing at the door.

“Tony, I can explain,” he said weakly.

The alpha held up a hand, making the other man whimper. But he quickly elaborated. “You don’t have to. We can talk later. For now...that looked amazing, baby. Did you have fun?”

Peter started nodding, but ended up whining softly.

Tony moved to the bed, looking at the toy. It shouldn’t have looked as appealing as it did to him. It wasn’t much, just smooth plastic and then soft silicone in a flesh tone that looked vaguely like an omega’s pussy. But what made it was the obscene amount of cum leaking from it. And the knowledge that all of it had come from his darling partner. “Certainly looks like you had fun,” he mused.

“I did...just…” Peter sighed, dropping his eyes to look at his cock. It was half-hard still, but that wasn’t what he was focused on. His eyes were on the slight bump at the base that stayed small despite how hard he was trying to make it swell. “Oh, Tony.” He sighed again, the sound heavier this time.

“Talk to me,” the alpha encouraged, moving to sit down on the bed. “What’s up? Wasn’t it...fulfilling?”

A weak laugh was pulled from the younger man. “Not exactly.” He crawled to the alpha, leaning against him. “I know you said I don’t have to explain, but I do.” He took a deep breath.

Tony nodded, watching him intently. “Okay.”

“You know how I’m...mixed up. Both omega and alpha.”

“Of course.” They didn’t talk about it much, but that didn’t mean that he’d forgotten. He would have been a pretty bad partner if he forgot about something like that.

“Well, I’ve always felt more omega. You know that. That hasn’t changed. But lately things have been...weird,” he said slowly.

“Okay...weird how?”

Peter looked down again. “I’ve been having these...dreams.” Oh, Tony was going to hate him. Shame him. Or something.

“Alright...dreams, weird, I’m following.”

“I keep dreaming about being on top. Uh, giving. During sex.” His cheeks burned. No matter how long he was sexually active, no matter how much they did, he’d always get flustered somehow. “And a big thing in the dreams is...knotting you.”

Tony nodded, not taking his eyes off of his partner. “And is that something you want?”

“No! I mean…yes? I don’t know. I’ve always been happy with the way we did things. And I’m still happy with it. I just.” He made a frustrated noise. “I feel like something is missing. Especially since I keep waking up with a popped knot but I can’t seem to get it any other time.”

“So that’s the reason for the toy,” the alpha murmured, looking at it. “And you haven’t been able to knot it?”

“No,” Peter whined. “I’ve been at it all day. It feels good, but there’s just something missing. I want to knot it.”

“You want to knot it or you want to knot me?” Tony asked, watching him. He cocked his head to the side slightly as he waited for an answer, eyes trailing over his partner’s body.

Peter wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Sure, in his dreams he was on top. The one in control. But he didn’t really want that. He liked the way that he and Tony did things, with the full-alpha on top. Peter liked receiving. He just wanted to knot, no matter how he needed to do it. “The...the toy. I think.”

Tony nodded, picking it up. His fingers swiped over the entrance of it quickly, gathering up a bit of the cum that had leaked out. He pressed his fingers to Peter’s lips, smirking slightly as the young man shivered before taking the digits into his mouth. “In that case, I have a proposal. You want to hear it?”

Peter nodded, still suckling on the fingers gently.

“Okay. Well, you said you’re happy with how we do things, right? So I say we keep doing them. But you can try something new.” He held up the toy again, watching Peter’s reactions. “I’ll fuck you like normal. And you can fuck this. And we can see if that changes anything.”

The younger man moaned around Tony’s fingers, nodding. He hadn’t thought of that, but it sounded wonderful.

Tony grinned at him, slowly pulling his fingers away. “In that case, do you think you have one more round in you, honey?” His hand dipped between his partner’s legs, fingers finding his entrance and spreading the lips slightly. “You’re absolutely soaked, baby. You’ve been neglecting this pretty pussy, haven’t you?” He clicked his tongue. “I’ll have to change that.”

Peter moaned again, clenching down around nothing as he felt the tips of the alpha’s fingers tracing his entrance. “Please. I want this, please. I can go one more time.” He was tired, but he was determined he could do this.

“Okay, baby. Let’s figure out how we need to do this.”

Tony hummed softly, pulling away just to assess the situation. There were a couple ways that he figured things would work out, but only one really stood out to him.

“Let’s see if this will work,” he mused. “Lay on your back, Pete.” He watched as the man did as he asked, nodding. “Good boy. Now….” he moved between his legs, positioning himself like he was going to fuck him. “Does this seem alright?”

Peter nodded quickly, breathing hard. He looked being able to watch his alpha while he was fucked. It was one of his favorite positions. But…

Before Peter could voice his concerns, Tony was grabbing the fleshlight and putting it in his hands. “So while I fuck you, you can fuck up into this. Sound okay?”

His cheeks burned as he took the toy, but he nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Perfect,” Tony murmured. “Now, want to get started?”

They both couldn’t wait any longer.

Peter nodded, the tip of his cock rubbing against the already-slick entrance of the toy. There was still cum from his previous play dripping out, but he made no move to clean it up. He figured that it would only help.

Tony hummed, looking over him. He unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down just enough to free his throbbing cock. No extra stimulation needed, just watching and talking to Peter was enough. Plus the promise of what was about to happen.

“Wow,” Peter whispered, eyes wide. He never got over Tony’s size. And he knew from experience how good all of it felt. He couldn’t wait to take it again.

“I’m sure you’re already wet enough, honey,” the alpha mused, his fingers sliding against Peter’s entrance once more. “I know you need to be filled….” he pushed two fingers inside up to the second knuckle. “So open for me already.”

Peter cried out, clenching down around the fingers. “Please, Tony. I need- fuck, I need you to fuck me already.” He didn’t want to be teased and fingered slowly. He wanted to get to the main event.

“Needy thing,” Tony commented, pulling his fingers out quickly. “But I’ll give you what you want. Just don’t forget that you’re supposed to be fucking that while I’m fucking you.” He tapped the toy.

“Of course,” Peter told him, the tip of his cock still poised to push into it as soon as things started.

“Okay, good boy,” the alpha praised gently. He rubbed the tip of his cock against Peter’s hole, watching how it fluttered in anticipation of what was to come.

He just couldn’t help himself.

He started pushing in slowly, a low groan building in his chest. No matter how much they had sex, Peter was always so perfectly tight. It was incredible every single time.

And at the same time, Peter sunk the toy onto his own cock with a moan. The dual sensations were incredible, better than he ever could have imagined. He felt Tony filling his pussy while his toy squeezed around him deliciously.

Just the initial feeling was almost enough to push him to the edge again. But he managed to calm himself down.

Tony took a shaky breath, taking a moment to get used to the tightness around his cock. It was intense, Peter obviously had only been focusing on his own cock. So his pussy was still incredibly tight, and constantly clenching down as he got used to the different sensations.

The alpha was pretty sure that neither of them would be lasting very long. But he knew it wouldn’t bother him. And it probably wouldn’t bother Peter either.

“Ready for me to move?” He asked gently, holding onto his partner’s hips carefully. He saw the look on Peter’s face and laughed softly. “Oh, I know. I mean, I can only imagine how intense things are for you. But they feel extra intense today even just like this.”

Peter smiled a little, nodding. He looked so fucked out already. “Yeah. I’m ready, alpha.”

Tony began moving his hips, just slowly at first. He didn’t want to completely overwhelm either of them. “Tell me how it feels, baby. Fucking your little toy pussy while I fuck you.”

“It-it feels really good,” the younger man whispered. That was a severe understatement, but he found it hard to form words. His hips thrust up into the toy as Tony fucked into him at the same time. Everything was sensitive and pleasurable and perfect.

“Just good?”

Peter whined. “It’s amazing, but- oh, god,” he moaned. His eyes rolled back as Tony started moving faster already. “I’ve never felt so…so good.”

Tony hummed, biting his lip as he kept his thrusts at an even pace. “Really? Hmm, let’s see if we can make it even better….”

“Wha- oh, fuck!” Peter groaned, hips jerking faster as he felt Tony’s fingers brushing over his left nipple. His nipples were always extra sensitive, but adding it to everything he was already feeling was intense. “Don’t!”

“Don’t? You want me to stop?” The alpha grinned at him, moving his hand lower again to rest on his hip. He moaned softly as he watched his partner fuck faster into the toy.

“Just stop that,” Peter instructed. “I don’t- god, don’t want to cum too fast. And it’s already...I already feel….”

Tony hummed, nodding. He couldn’t deny that he already felt the distinct pressure building as well. “It’s okay, baby. But I’ll stop.” Both of his hands stayed on Peter’s hips.

“Thank you.” Peter held onto the sheets with one hand, the other working to quickly slide the sleeve over his cock as he fucked it. His grip tightened on both things and he felt the plastic creaking under his fingertips.

They kept going, bodies in sync. Tony gazed down at his partner, eyes occasionally dropping down to watch everything else going on. But he loved to just watch the pleasured faces that Peter made.

And the other man was feeling nothing but pleasure. He’d held out as long as he possibly could and knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold off the high that was building. “Tony….” He moaned, movement becoming jerkier and less measured. “I’m- fuck, I’m gonna cum, alpha!”

“Then cum for me, baby, let go. This will be the best one,” Tony encouraged, not stopping his movements. He knew that he wasn’t far behind at all.

Peter whimpered, hardly doing anything more than just humping up into the toy now. But- “Tony! Fuck, yes,” he moaned louder, watching as his knot swelled rapidly.

Exactly what he’d been hoping for.

He thrust weakly, forcing his knot into the tight sleeve and he was done. His vision whited out as he came, hips bucking wildly. “Tony!” He cried out, tears leaking from his eyes at the intensity of his orgasm. And it seemed to last forever, the tightness of the toy milking his knot in a way he didn’t know was possible.

His vision blurred again and then he was out, going limp against the bed.

“Shit,” Tony swore, immediately pulling out despite how incredibly close he was. He wouldn’t continue anything without knowing Peter was okay.

It took only a few seconds for him to rouse again, blinking dazedly. “Did I just- oh my god.” He covered his face with one hand. “Please tell me that didn’t just happen.

Tony still looked a little concerned, but laughed weakly. “Which part? God, baby, that must have been good.”

“It was amazing.” And he was still riding out aftershocks. “But...that was embarrassing,” he mumbled. Then he noticed that Tony was no longer inside him and looked painfully hard. “Alpha! I didn’t mean to make you stop.” He wiggled slightly. “It’s okay, I’m okay now. Keep going.”

The alpha chuckled a little, more relaxed. “You’re something else, you know that?” He repositioned himself properly again, tip pressed against Peter’s now-loose pussy. “You’re sure?”

“So sure.”

Peter had gotten what he’d wanted. So he’d be happy to help his alpha.

He finally popped his knot, feeling more fulfilled than he had since the dreams started. And he’d been able to be with Tony to make it happen.

They’d have to do that more often. Although he was sure that neither of them would complain.

[h2bakugou]

hi bb i love your writing! i was wondering if you could do headcanons for bakugo, kaminari, and dabi when they go clubbing with their crush or s/o?? their reactions to the outfits and the dancing would be PRICELESS LOL. it can be sfw or nsfw but yeah hehe thank you! i hope you’re staying safe and well

a/n: hi luv! awe tysm!! <3 of course!! this is gonna be a tad spicy so sjgfdjg i hope you guys are staying safe and doing well too!!

all characters aged up 18+ au!!

headcanon: them reacting to their s/o’s clubbing attire and dancing

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, smut

nsfw under the cut!!

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

When the two of you go out clubbing, Bakugou is shocked by your attire. It’s not that he thinks it’s bad, he thinks you look fucking gorgeous, and he’d dare someone else to even try and make a move on you.

He barely leaves your side. Also not a bad thing. This man will scare off any creeps that want to come check you out, and even if Bakugou catches someone just staring, you’re holding him back from blasting them to the high heavens.

If you’re old enough to drink, you are. Maybe not shot-gunning drinks as soon as you can, or maybe you are, it’s really your preference, Bakugou’s taking a few shots himself.

The buzz from the alcohol just adds to the environment.

Onto your dancing, Bakugou is a horny fuck.

You’re grinding against him, his hands firmly planted on your hips, pulling you back into him. If he’s feeling like a real asshole, he’ll make you do all the work.

And by god is he getting himself worked up just watching your body move in the flashing lights. It takes everything in him not to drag you to the bathrooms and fuck you.

And if you do wind up in the bathrooms, Bakugou’s cock ramming inside of you, his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, it’s the best night of the week.

So much for not ruining the new clothes you bought to go clubbing in.

The ends are seared from his quirk, too impatient to get you out of them, or at least to where he can fuck you in them.

You’re bent over the bathroom sink, the door locked from the inside to prevent anyone walking in on the tow of you.

Looking in the mirror as Bakugou rams into you is one of his favorite things. His eyes lock onto yours and you can watch just how proud of himself he is.

His cock is reaching deeper and deeper inside of you, filling you up to the brim, bringing you over the edge.

You cum and it’s almost too much for Bakugou. As your face contorts in pleasure, so does his, but he keeps going.

Filling you up with his cum, his hips are still rutting into yours, giving you that overstimulation that drives both of you crazy.

After it’s all said and done, you’ve got to clean up the mess you two made. But Bakugou’s more than happy doing that knowing you'll be walking around for the rest of the night with his cum inside you.

»»————-　★　————-««

eijirou kirishima

»»————-　★　————-««

This man is snazzy as fuck. The two of you coordinate your outfits, down to a t.

Matching accessories, to the same color scheme. Honestly any party you two go too, if you two aren’t coordinated, then Kirishima’s matching with someone else, all love to Kaminari who wanted Kirishima to be the other half of his horse costume.

Dancing with Kirishima is a must when you two go out. He’s upbeat and he loves to dance.

If you can’t find him at the bar having a few drinks, he’s on the dance floor throwing it down.

You’re a little jealous, he can really throw it back if he tries.

When you decide to throw it back on Kiri, he’s more than happy to catch it. 

He’s leaning into you, helping you out, guiding your hips just to hit the right spot, and he’s getting excited.

The type of guy to kiss you and keep kissing you until he’s gotten you somewhere he can fuck you. Sliding against the walls as his lips attack yours mercilessly, one hand roaming your body as his other searches for the handle to the supply closet.

He’s tossing you up on the table and carefully removing your club clothes. As much as he wants to just tear them off of you, you look so good in them.

His head dips between your thighs and its euphoria after that.

His lips, his tongue, his breath, his teeth- all working together in just the right amounts to please you.

Whether it’s biting your thigh or running his tongue along your most sensitive areas, you’re a moaning mess, begging for more.

He’s got you screaming underneath his hand that’s muffling your sounds so you don’t get caught.

You’re cumming on his mouth, his tongue aggressively trying to lick up every drop, most of it dripping down his chin.

His eyes are hungry with lust, and his hands become grabbier, desperate to feel you underneath him.

He leaves the club with you by his side with every intent to continue your fun back at home, where you can be as loud as you want.

»»————-　★　————-««

dabi

»»————-　★　————-««

When Dabi and you go out clubbing, he’s the cheekiest motherfucker. He’s purposely ‘flirting’ with other girls to get you riled up.

So to no surprise you do the same, accepting drinks from people whoa re willing to buy them for you, even dancing with a few.

When you finally meet back up with Dabi, you’ve got a good buzz, but you’re about as horny as you are angry.

You wanted him, you came here with him.

His impressed by your clothes, but he thinks you’d look much better out of them. Even more so he’d like them on his bedroom floor later that night.

Your dancing starts off slow but it quickly becomes rushed and sex-charged.

You’re grinding against him and giving him a show, forcing him to sit while you dance on his lap, making sure every other girl he talked to knows who he came with.

After that, he’s done waiting, he’s dragging you to one of the clubs vip lounges, fully aware that there’s security posted around the place.

The door gets locked and it’s on after that.

Your clothes are the first to go, getting singed with Dabi’s needy hands. You’re peeling off his clothes too, but he’s quicker than you are.

You’re already lying on your back as he finally pulls his shirt off and unbuckles his pants.

He doesn’t even warn you, he slams his cock inside you, earning a moan from you.

Throwing your head back and arching your back against the table, you’re moaning louder and louder as he ruts into you, filling you up.

He’s stretching you out as he goes deeper and deeper, bring you to the edge.

“Scream my name, let everyone know just who you belong to.” Dabi’s dirty talk is another influence for you to be loud.

“Dabi!” You moan out as his cock twitches inside you. You’re body tenses up and you’re squeezing around his girth. 

“S-So tight.” Dabi moans, gripping your hips as he slams you into his cock, only adding to the pleasure building inside you.

You’re cumming shortly after that, and so is Dabi. He’s filling you up, but you’re wrong if you think he’s only going for one round.

He won’t stop until someone’s pounding on the door for you two to leave.

Smirks the entire walk out of the club, escorted by the security, knowing he’s gonna keep going at it with you when you get back home.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch 20- Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Summary: Frank and Fliss head off for their trip to Vermont…

Warnings:  Bad Language words, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  WOOHOOO MY MOJO IS BACK! And who better than to bring it back than FRISS! This one’s a LONG update, and I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not!!! I hope you all enjoy!! Happy New Year! Gotta thank @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ for her Vermont knowledge that helped pull this all together.

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 Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 19

“How many times have you read that now?” Fliss asked as Frank pulled the well-worn copy of ‘Man’s Search For Meaning’ from the small carry-on bag.

“I have no idea.” Frank shrugged as he kicked the bag under the seat in front of him.

“It’s at least five in the time we’ve been together.”

“Well it’s my favourite.” Frank looked at her. “You know you should give it a go.”

“What’s it about and don’t say a man searching for meaning.” Fliss cut off his sarcastic response before he could utter a word and he chuckled.

“It’s about a guy in a Nazi concentration camp.” Frank explained. “It describes his psychotherapeutic method which involved identifying a purpose in life to feel positive about, and then actively imagining the outcome. Basically how meaning of life is found in every moment of living and that life never ceases to have a meaning, even in suffering and death.”

“So, light reading then.” Fliss snorted and Frank gave a chuckle.

“I used to recommend it to my second year students.” His fingers traced the cover gently. “One of the modules on the Metaphysics side of things focussed on Ontology which is the study of the nature of being, existence or reality, so to speak, which linked into the Philosophy of mind and studying mental properties, consciousness and the relationship that has to the physical body in particularly the brain.” He rambled off as he looked at Fliss. “The book has it all. It’s the reason I decided to study Philosophy and not Math”

Fliss smiled at him, her head cocking to one side. “You sound so passionate about it.”

“Well, I enjoyed it.” He let out a deep breath. “Safe to say Mother wasn’t a fan. She was, and is still, far too logically minded. She preferred the study of mathematical problems as oppose to fundamental ones concerning matters such as existence, knowledge, values and mind…” he trailed off “Maybe a little part of it was rebellion, I don’t know.”

“Do you miss it?” Fliss asked.

Frank took a deep breath “Honestly, yeah, sometimes.” He shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about going back but I wouldn’t even know where to start now. It’s been almost 10 years since I taught, the techniques will have all moved on.”

“Sure it wouldn’t take you too long to pick it up again.”

“I’m happy as I am, honey.” He smiled.“Maybe when I get older…”

“How much older do you wanna be?” Fliss teased “I mean you’re 40 next year.”

Frank shot her a look and she laughed, her hand squeezing his knee, but before he could reply the PA cut in and the Pilot spoke to them, announcing that they would soon be ready to commence their flight. It wasn’t long after that before they were asked by one of the hostesses to fasten their seat belts and the plane jolted as it pulled away from the stand and set off taxying to the runway.

Frank needn’t have bothered with his book after all, as their chat just continued as it usually did, and a beer or two later they were both surprised when the Captain announced the approach into Philly. By the time they’d gotten off the plane and made their way through the transfer line, they actually only had half an hour or so to spare so they grabbed a quick coffee each and made their way to the gate ready for the final leg. At quarter-to-three in the evening they touched down in Vermont and Frank didn’t miss the excitement in Fliss’ eyes as she turned to him and uttered one simple word through her grin.

“Snow!”

He chuckled and took her hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin below her knuckles, keeping his fingers laced into hers as they waited for the plane to come to a halt at the stand before they stood up. Frank stretched his arms above his head, flinching a little as Fliss reached out to tickle the strip of skin on his belly that had appeared thanks to his sweater riding up slightly. He grabbed her hand and arched an eyebrow as she giggled.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Cowgirl.” His voice dropped a little and it sent shivers down her spine as she bit her lip, peeking up at him with innocent eyes. Eventually, the line in the aisle started to move and Frank thanked a man who stopped to let them out, his hand warm on Fliss’ back as he guided her in front of him, dropping a kiss to her cheek as they made their way off the plane and into the airport.

By the time they’d gotten their luggage, which miraculously had made its way through without going missing,  and picked the hire car up it was almost half-three. Frank tossed their bags into the trunk of the shiny grey Ford Explorer as Fliss made her way to the passenger’s side.

“Oh my God it’s so cold!” she grinned as Frank climbed in to the seat beside her.

He laughed as he adjusted his seat “Dur, snow.”

Fliss rolled her eyes and set about retrieving the email confirmation she had on her phone. She keyed in the GPS and Frank gave her a quick smile before they set off.  The forty-five minute drive was full of laughter and an air of childish excitement. Fliss had settled on the Moscow area of Stowe, Vermont as it was less than fifteen minutes to the Ben and Jerry’s factory, and also within thirty minutes from the Smuggler's Notch resort for the weekly fireworks display. On Friday night they were heading out to the Ice Castles at Woodstock. That had been a total stroke of luck as the attraction normally closed early march but due to a slight delay in the opening this season thanks to some 'technical difficulties', whatever that meant, their last weekend open coincided with this one. Fliss had booked the five thirty to six pm time slot as recommended by Jake who had been with his kids the previous year, meaning they would be inside when it lit up.

The sun was starting to set as Frank pulled off Route 89 and they got a glimpse of the town for the first time. It didn’t escape Fliss as to how festive it looked, like a scene straight from a Christmas card with the snow-capped rooves on the red buildings and the bright white spire of the church. It was another ten minutes or so before Frank turned onto the road where their lodge was and Fliss pointed suddenly as she spotted the one they were looking for.

“That’s it. Adams Mill Cottage.”

Slowing down, Frank pulled up on the drive and cut the engine, the pair of them looking at their home for the next few nights. It was gorgeous. Set back off the road, someone had been and cleared a path from the drive to the door. The rear outside porch area which bent round the property in an L-shape was lit up with strings of rope and fairy lights, and Frank could see the steam rising from the hot tub as it snaked from under the covers, nestling in the privacy and shade of the hilly area the house was flush too, the rest of the private yard area was closed off by a wooden fence.

“Looks even better in real life than on the photos.” Fliss grinned. Frank looked at her, and she gave a little squeal of excitement before she yanked open the door another exclamation about it being cold hit his ears before the door shut behind him. Shaking his head at her enthusiasm he let out a little chuckle before he stepped out and followed her to the door where she was already working at the key safe, keying in the code she’d gotten on the confirmation. Frank grabbed the bags from the trunk and headed over to where Fliss was now unlocking the door. They both stepped inside what was to be their home for the next few nights, stamping their feet off on the mat before Frank closed the door.

“Wow…” Fliss muttered as she looked around, the smell of an open wood fire cascaded around the room and Frank took a deep breath through his nose, savouring it. He loved that smell, it reminded him of nights when he was a kid with his dad in front of the huge one they had at home, one that post his Father’s death had on the whole remained unlit as his Mom and Walter had preferred to use the central heating, lighting it only for weekends and special occasions.

They made their way into the living area to find it was cosily decorated in neutral colours, with a large grey L-shaped sofa, a light wooden floor which was partially covered by a cream and grey rug upon which a glass coffee table sat. But the thing that drew Frank’s attention was the huge stone chimney breast and fireplace in which the fire was crackling away. There were large windows on three sides of the room, which looked out onto the snowy garden area and he couldn’t help the sigh of satisfaction that left his mouth. This was his type of property. He loved their home in Pinellas, that was a given as they’d spent a lot of time decorating it to their taste but there was something about this type of cabin that he loved. Together they wandered through to the kitchen which was very farmhouse-like, adorned with silver, grey and white tiles and a huge Aga stove along one wall.

Fliss’ eyes grew wide as she took it all in, running her hand over the solid oak island in the middle before she glanced out of the patio doors and let out a happy little sigh.

“Oh Frank, I love it.”

He moved to hug her from behind as they both stood looking at the view.

“Just wait till we’re outside in the tub with that back drop!” Fliss beamed, nodding to where the little woodland edge met the lawn of the garden. Frank smiled, dropped a kiss to her cheek and then they continued their tour finding the bathroom and finally the bedroom which sported a large, king-sized bed with a huge grey headboard covered in a white and pink throw.

Frank placed their bags down, smiling.

“It’s beautiful.” Fliss turned to him, grinning, and Frank made a noise of appreciation as he undid his jacket, tossing it onto the chair in the corner.

“Like you.”

“Smooth!” Fliss laughed and he grinned, his hands falling to her hips as he pulled her close.

“You know me, all about the smoothness.” He quipped, rubbing his cheek against hers, his beard scratching her slightly and she squealed, attempting to get away, but he wasn’t letting go. Laughing, the pair of them pitched sideways onto the bed and Frank leaned over, kissing her gently. It wasn’t long before the kiss grew deeper and Frank pressed into Fliss, rolling her onto her back. Her hands tangled in his hair and his hands had just begun sliding their way up her top when there was a loud bang on the door that made the pair of them jump from surprise.

“Expecting someone?” Frank looked at Fliss who shrugged as he heaved himself up and made his way to the entrance hall, puzzlement overtaking any annoyance he had at being interrupted. He opened the heavy oak door it to be greeted by a kind faced man bundled up in a snow jacket and a hat, holding a box in his hands.

“Good evening!” he beamed at Frank “I have a delivery for Frankie and Titch?” The man’s eyes twinkled as he read the label and Frank snorted, there were only two people that called Fliss Titch, her dad and brother. And, given the use of the name Frankie, he’d lay odds on this was from Steve.

“Yeah, that’s us.” He smiled, reaching out to take it.

“Excellent. Welcome to Moscow.” He nodded as Frank took it “I’m from the Stowe Mercantile, and on behalf of myself and my wife we hope you enjoy your gift hamper. Feel free to pay us a visit. We’re on the high street.”

“I’m sure we will, and thanks.” Frank smiled at him as the man gave him a cheery little wave goodbye and headed back down towards his truck. Frank carried the hamper back to the kitchen where Fliss was examining the fridge which had been stocked with a little ‘Welcome package’ of basics such as milk, butter, bread, orange juice along with some Green Mountain Coffee Roasters pods for the coffee machine which stood in a little jar on the side.

“What’s that?” she asked, turning as Frank placed the box on the counter.

“A Hamper.” He said, taking the card off the top and handing it to Fliss to open.

She snorted as she saw who it was a dressed to and turned it over. “Frankie and Fliss, have a treat on me, Sian and the boys. Enjoy your time away and make sure you actually get out of bed enough to explore…” she read, shaking her head.“Idiot…”

“An idiot with good taste.” Frank mumbled, pulling out the bottle of Moet which was nestled in the hamper. When they dug further they found a bottle of decent Rioja, a Sancerre, a large block of Cabot Cheddar Cheese, some savoury crackers, chutneys, olives, croissants, some candy, Lake Champlain Chocolate, chips, breadsticks and dips.

“Looks like we got snacks for a while.” Fliss mused.

“And Sam Adams.” Frank grinned, holding up the four-pack. They stowed it all away, before they then took their bags into the bedroom and after quickly unpacking and, after changing into warmer clothes, they headed out, Fliss keying in the zip-code for Smugglers Notch.

They chatted as they went, laughing and joking about anything and everything and just like any time spent with his girl, it seemed to pass in a flash and after what felt like five minutes, but was in fact twenty-eight, Frank pulled their rented vehicle into a spot and they both climbed out, hastily bundling up into jackets, hats and scarves. Frank couldn't resist pulling the front of Fliss' pink woollen hat down over her eyes, just as he has done in New York, and she shoved him in the chest, her hand rustling against the fabric of his faux-fur trimmed SuperDry jacket, causing him to step back a little. He laughed as she set her hat straight and the two of them headed through the main entrance, winding round the side to the main area of the resort which was seemingly packed with visitors and locals alike. "This takes me back." Frank commented, a little nostalgia flooding his tone as he looked around at the various groups of people milling around. Some carried skis, others snow boards as they wound down from a day’s activity on the slopes, whilst others were simply there like they were for a few drinks and the fireworks. "Something I never learned to do." Fliss leaned into him, her right hand clutching his left, her left hand curling round his arm, almost hugging it to her. "I was never allowed in case I broke something that put me out of action." "Do you wanna learn?" Frank asked. She pondered for a moment and smiled "I dunno, is it hard?' "I found boarding easier than skiing." He mused. "Some people are the opposite though. Not sure I’d be able to do either anymore." "Maybe we should bring the kids for a long weekend, have a go." Fliss mused before she grabbed his arm tighter “Oh my God, we should so go sand boarding back home.”

Frank laughed. “I did it once, me and the guys. Jake ended up in the ER with bust ankle.” He sighed fondly. “It was a great day.”

“Maybe I could strap a line to Cap and get him to pull me.” Fliss mused and Frank looked at her, shaking his head.

“Can you not?” he sighed. “You already scare the crap out of me when you jump those damned fences.”

“I’ve jumped higher.” She shrugged

“Yeah, well, that was before you met me.”

“We could use your truck then.”

“No, Lissy.” He rolled his eyes.

She chuckled “Spoil sport.

“Behave.”

They continued to walk, passed the little stalls and shops pausing at one to grab a hot chocolate and a bag of warm sugared donuts. They ate and drank their treats, sitting on one of the benches outside, and Frank had just taken the last drink of his chocolate before something caught his eye and he gave a little sigh, his smile growing bigger.

“Oh shit, sugar on snow.” He breathed out softly, watching a family of four walking past clutching trays of the treat.

“What?” Fliss looked at him blankly.

“You never heard of sugar on snow?”

“Is that like a snow cone?”

“Kinda.” He looked at her, his eyes shining “They serve it in some places in Boston but it’s never the same. It’s hot maple syrup, served over actual snow, not ice.”

“Seriously?” Fliss grinned at the boyish excitement on his face and he nodded.

“Some people call it leather aprons, on account of the fact it goes kinda leathery in texture.” He explained “It’s fucking awesome, Lissy, I haven’t had it since I was a kid. A situation I feel that I should rectify right away.”

“Okay, Sailor, lead the way.”

With a grin, Frank hopped up, grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the vendor where they joined the queue and soon reached the front. Frank ordered two, paid and then draped his arm over Fliss’ shoulder as they watched the guy serving fill two trays with scoops of powdery snow from a large chest behind them. He passed the trays to the man to his left who stirred a large, metal pot full of hot, Maple Syrup which he then ladled over the snow.

“You guys want the sides?” the server asked and Frank nodded.

“Hold the donut but I’ll take the pickle.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Fliss held her hand out and turned to Frank. “Hold the donut but you’ll take the pickle? What the hell?”

The man behind the counter chuckled as Frank shrugged. “Yeah, the pickle cuts through the sweetness.” She looked at him, her face utterly perplexed and he laughed. “You like pickle, and you ate far worse when you were pregnant.”

“I happen to think my cravings were positively normal, thank you. Apple juice and chili fries.”

“Lissy, you dipped your McDonald’s fries in milkshake.”

“Steve does that anyway.” She shrugged.

“That doesn’t make it normal.”

“Neither is eating pickle along with syrup!” she rolled her eyes.

“You don’t know shit.” Frank scoffed before he turned back to the server. “I’ll take the pickle.”

“I won’t.” Fliss shook her head.

The server nodded and slid one tray over the counter. Frank moved, thanking him as he handed it to Fliss, taking the other with his precious pickle on the side. Fliss took a spoon full, and made an appreciative noise, nodding as Frank did the same and immediately was hit with a flood of nostalgia as he could remember as it was yesterday the last time he’d had this. A family trip with his mother, Diane and Walter to a resort not far from here actually.

“Oh God.” Fliss’ voice was muffled and Frank turned to see her chewing and he laughed “You weren’t wrong about it being like leather.”

“It’s like taffy, but not.” He shrugged and with that he raised the pickle and took a huge crunch, grinning at her as he chewed. She gave a laugh again, shaking her head.

“That’s disgusting.”

“C’mere baby.” His voice was muffled on account his mouth was full of pickle, as he bent towards her and she laughed harder, shoving him away. He swallowed in between his chuckles, and pressed a kiss to the side of her head as they made their way over to where the majority of the crowd had gathered awaiting the fireworks.

They didn’t bother trying to push to the front, fireworks went up after all, and soon enough the music grew louder and someone spoke over the PA welcoming them all to the weekly fire work display. Leaving Fliss for a second to dispose of their empty snow containers in a nearby trash can, Frank returned and wrapped her arms around her from behind, pulling her back to his chest, dropping another soft kiss to her cheek. She smiled and leaned against him, happy for him to hold her and then the crowd let out a gasp as the first rocket flew into the air and burst into a huge bloom of gold and red.

The fireworks were spectacular. Screaming rockets, silent ones, crackling ones, ones that were colourful, ones less so, but what Frank was watching most of the time was Fliss’ face. Her mouth stayed in a constant smile for the full fifteen minute display, her eyes wide, the bright explosions reflected in those deep brown orbs as she followed the trail of lights against the clear, starry sky. The last time they’d all seen fireworks was a display held on the beach for the fourth of July last year, but Fliss was staring at them like she hadn’t seen any for years. Frank couldn’t be sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion she was lost in the romance of the situation, the pair of them being alone, on a cold evening, wrapped up surrounded by snow. With a smile he kissed her cheek again and tuned his attention back to the sky as the finale ramped up in a cacophony of colour, explosions and yells of awe from kids and adults alike in the crowd.

“Enjoy that?” Frank’s nose nuzzled at the spot behind Fliss’ ear and she smiled, tilting her head to look at him.

“Yeah, did you?”

“Absolutely.” He beamed. “It was awesome.”

“Took me back a few years” she grinned, turning to face him. “You ever heard of Bonfire Night in the UK?”

“Remember, remember the fifth of November.” He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, I think the last firework display I saw whilst wrapped up against the cold was Bonfire Night in 2011.” She mused. “Stanley Park in Liverpool. No snow though, just pissing down rain.” She took a deep breath “There’s just something magical about being all wrapped up whilst watching them.”

Frank smiled and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Anything else you wanna do?”

“Hot cider.” She nodded, and Frank grinned, his arm round her shoulder as they made their way back towards the drinks cabin.

An hour or so later, the little bar seemed to fill up almost all at once and both of them decided to call it a night. As they wandered back to the car, Frank gently kissed Fliss’ cheek as his arm curled around her shoulder and she smiled at him.

“You’ve been kissing me a lot tonight, Sailor.”

“I don’t ever intend on stopping.”

“Even when we’re married? I mean, isn’t that when all the romance is supposed to go to shit?”

“Only if you marry an asshole.” Frank spoke without thinking and then let out a little groan. “Fliss, I didn’t mean…”

“I know.” She said gently “I know you didn’t. Don’t worry.”

Frank bit his lip, cursing himself as they continued towards the car, before he sighed and shook his head. “You know, I’ll always be in awe of how you just deal with it, you know. Everything you went through and you came out the other side…and now…” "It wasn’t easy.” Fliss replied after a second or two, her hand gently playing with Frank's as his arm was draped over her shoulder. "Sometimes I don’t know how I did it. But, I do know one thing though." "What's that?" "I never thought I'd trust someone again enough to be…well, intimate with them, let alone fall completely and utterly head over heels in love." She took a deep breath before she leaned into Frank as his arm tightened around her. “And then you showed up that day with Mary and broke down every wall I'd put up, Adler. And you did it so damned quickly. I mean I don’t know why but there was something about you that made me know I could trust you straight away. And...oh I'm rambling on as usual." She waved a hand and Frank took a deep breath, pulling her closer. "It was the same for me you know.” He told her and she glanced up at him as they walked. "How so?" "The way Mary hugged you, the first time she met you. She’s never been that open with people. As we drove away that day she turned to me and said 'you like her'. Simple statement but I did. She was right."  Frank looked ahead as they rounded the corner to the parking lot "I knew from our first kiss on that boat that this was it for me. Everything I had no idea I needed and then some in this tiny little red-headed fire cracker." Fliss laughed and nudged him slightly and he grinned. "And you still gave me a chance. I mean there was the whole thing with Bonnie." Frank took a deep breath. "And I wasn't the easiest person to be around when the court case was going on." "No, you weren't." Fliss agreed. “But you were going through a tough time. Even if I hadn't had feelings for you that way, I'd have been by your side regardless. You know, that right?" Frank stopped by the side of their rented car and turned to face her, taking both her hands in his "Yeah, I do. Because, well, because you’re fucking amazing. You're just the most gorgeous person inside and out, Lissy, and every damned day I wake up next to you and wonder how I got so fucking lucky." "Frank!" Fliss gave a little sniff as her eyes filled with tears and he smiled, his hand gently cupping her face as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was slow, deep and loaded with feeling, Fliss' hands dropping to his waist, her fingers curling around the cold material of his jacket as she let herself go, losing herself in the romance of the moment as they stood in the parking lot at the base of the mountain, surrounded by snow. When they finally broke apart, Frank pressed his forehead to hers, smiling softly. "Come on, let’s go before we freeze to death." Fliss laughed, "Not much chance of that with you to keep me warm." Frank narrowed his eyes. "Is that a fat joke?" At that she laughed harder. “Absolutely not." Her hands squeezed his slim hips and she blinked up at him, knowing just how sensitive he was getting to the fact that, thanks to him now being effectively behind a desk all day, he was having to work harder at keeping in shape. He'd picked up running at the start of the year and was now also using the weights he had in the workshop area of the garage to keep himself as toned as he could. But to Fliss it didn't matter a jot. He was perfect to her. "But just so you know, if you do put on weight, it just means there's more of you for me to love."

******

Once back home they debated hitting the hot tub for an hour but they were both tired from the early start so settled instead for a cozy drink in front of the fire in the living room. After checking in at home, speaking to Verity and Mary, Verity assuring them that both kids were fine, Fliss headed for a shower as Frank checked a few emails from work on his phone as he lay on the bed. When she walked back into the room he hopped up, gave her another deep kiss before he headed off, jumping a little as she slapped his ass as he passed. He gave her a smirk over his shoulder as he wandered barefoot down the hall and into the bathroom.

Once showered he dressed in a pair of grey sweats and a plain white t-shirt before he headed into the living room to find Fliss in a pair of dark green plaid flannel sleep pants and a hooded top, her hair piled on top of her head as she sat in front of the fire, a glass of red win in her hand, simply watching the flames.

“You okay, honey?” he asked and she turned to look up at him, smiling.

“Yeah, it’s just been a while before I sat in front of a fire in the evening.” She said as he dropped a hand to the back of her head. She pat the rug besides him and grinned “Pull up a seat, Sailor.”

“Let me grab a drink and I’ll be with you.”

“Way ahead of you, Francis.” With a grin she gestured to the table behind her and Frank chuckled as he saw the bottle of red wine perched in the middle along with an empty glass waiting for him. He poured himself a helping, topped her glass up and then with a little groan he settled onto the floor, his back resting against the coffee table, legs spread to allow Fliss to shuffle back against him, her chest resting against his back.

“You had a good evening?” She asked, turning her face to look at him.

“The best, thank you.” He smiled, kissing her softly. With a contented sigh she leaned her head back against his shoulder.

“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I was with you, how could I not?” Frank’s hand traced up the outside of her arm, lips brushing the top of her head as she leaned back a little more, her back resting fully against his chest. They sat in silence for a little while, enjoying the relative peace that wasn’t so forthcoming at home with two kids and busy jobs. The last few days had been particularly manic, Fliss pushing full steam ahead with the plans for the expansion had meant they’d had a few late evening consultations with Bill and the architect Steve had recommended as they discussed the best options. Then there had been Tuesday, when Fliss had called him in a flap as her jeep had broken down outside the store for the third time in as many weeks.

“Have you decided about your car yet?” Frank asked what was on his mind and Fliss shook her head.

“No.” She sighed “Can you not fix her?”

“I keep fixing her.” He replied “But, it’s only a matter of time before the damned thing gives up for good. Why don’t you look at one of the Audi’s you like? We don’t need two huge cars. I got the truck so...”

“Maybe. I want to get the wedding paid for first.”

“We don’t have much left to pay.” Frank reasoned. “The Banquet tent and food trucks are settled up. We just have the bar and the entertainment to sort really.”

“Decorations, dance floor hire, oh, and photographer.” Fliss mused “Although Bonnie said her sister’s husband is a pretty good amateur one. I might ask her for his number.”

“Sounds good.” Frank dropped another kiss to her head.

“Oh, and we should probably sort the invitations.”

“Yeah, that…” Frank chuckled, “that’s pretty key I suppose.”

“I thought…” Fliss tipped her head to face him, “I thought it would be nice if we wrote the invitations from Mary and Alex. You know, like it’s usually Mrs and Mrs Parents-Of-The-Bride request your presence bla bla bla…I’d like to ask Mary to suggest something.”

Frank smiled, his head cocking to one side slightly. “I think she’ll love that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, shifting so he could take another sip of his wine, which was exceptionally good and going down pretty damned well. “She’s as excited about the wedding as we are. Probably a little more actually.”

“Speak for yourself.” Fliss snorted, swallowing a mouthful of her drink “I can’t wait.”

“I didn’t mean that.” Frank rolled his eyes as Fliss laughed and she gently titled herd head round to look at him and reached up, scratching her nails of her left hand into his beard.

“I know Sailor, keep your hair on.”

“You know I can’t wait to make you Mrs Adler.”  Frank told her, dropping his head to catch her lips in a soft kiss. Fliss smiled as he pressed his head to hers, their noses bumping slightly before she moved and settled back into the position she had been in before, the back of her head once more resting against Frank’s chest.

“You know, I have a funny feeling Dad’s gonna give us a check towards it anyway.” She took a deep breath “He paid for Steve’s wedding, well, half. Sian’s parents paid the other.”

Frank shifted a little, “You think?”

Fliss shrugged “I don’t know. He’s never given anything to one of us and not the other so. He didn’t give a penny towards…” she trailed off and took a deep breath.

“That’s probably because you were marrying a cunt.” Frank shrugged and Fliss scoffed, shaking her head before she let out a little sigh and then Frank saw her shoulders sag a little, one hand running round the top of her wine glass as the other clutched the stem.

“I sometimes wonder how I got it so wrong you know? Like how I ever fell for him in the first place.”

“Hey.” Frank gently pulled her to him a little more, “Don’t do this, not tonight. None of that was your fault.”

“I know, but…”

“No buts, Lissy.” Frank shook his head, his tone a little stern. “He was an abusive piece of shit. Don’t go there, not tonight.”

Her head dropped and Frank took a deep breath, before he reached out and gently plucked the wine glass from her hand, setting it on the coffee table he was leaning against along with his own.

“Baby, look at me.” He instructed gently. After a seconds pause she knelt up and turned around, sitting back on her heels as she looked at him, large brown eyes dancing in the firelight, full of a melancholy that wasn’t quite sadness, but still enough to tear his gut apart at the fact she could still be so self-doubting. “Sorry I snapped and I’m sorry for bringing him up, again.” Frank looked at her, his hand gently brushing her hair back off her face. “I didn’t mean to.”

She looked at him for a second before she shuffled forwards a little and Frank dropped his legs flat so she could straddle his thighs, his large hands falling to her hips as she gently smoothed her hands up his ribbed T-shirt, her eyes following her fingers.

“You know, it’s kinda funny really” she spoke softly, her fingers still trailing his chest.

“What is?”

“Life, when you think about it. I mean, what I went through was shitty. What happened to you and Mary, you know with Diane was shitty.” Fliss took a deep breath, her hands pausing, palms flattening over his pecs. “But if it hadn’t happened, we would never have met. We’d never have had Alex.”

“True.” Frank breathed out as her eyes flicked up and locked onto his as he gave a small smile. “Is this where you tell me it was fate?”

“Maybe.” Fliss shrugged, before she raised an eyebrow. “Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like.”

“Lemony Snicket?” Frank chuckled his question and Fliss grinned, nodding.

“Mary was reading it the other day.”

“Well I’m glad to know I’m one of the things you do like” Frank arched an eyebrow. “Okay, if we’re dropping quotes, how about this one. Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.”

Fliss pondered for a second, shrugging. “I like it but, no idea who said it.”

“Marcus Aurelius.” Frank informed her.

“Ok, Professor.” she sassed, her hands now curling over his shoulders, and Frank laughed, “Now tell me who said this. You often meet your fate on the road you take to avoid it.”

“Oooh.” Frank pondered, “That almost sounds Shakespearean?”

“Close.” Fliss grinned “Goldie Hawn”

“Fahk off!” Frank tipped his head back, chest vibrating as his familiar laughter filled the room and Fliss snickered a little bit. He looked back at his girl as his chuckles subsided, saying nothing for a moment, simply studying her pretty face. Her eyes were full of warmth as she curled her hands round his shoulders before one moved to the back of his neck, her nails gently grazing at the skin below his hair line. He gave a sigh, his mouth curling up into a soft smile “I love you so fahkin much Cowgirl.”

“Love you too, Sailor.” She replied, her voice quiet, before she shuffled even closer, her head dipping to his.

The kiss was soft, gentle, Frank’s hands moving to her back, under the hoody she was wearing, splaying against her skin as he held her close to him. He felt Fliss shift a little, her hands dancing downwards, gripping the hem of his Tee. He moved back slightly, allowing her to pull it off, mimicking her actions by dragging her top over her head, along with the camisole she had on under it, before he gently lay her down on the rug in front of the fire place. He shimmied out of his sweats, before he dragged Fliss’ pyjama pants down her legs, leaving them both completely naked, and he gently grasped her right ankle in his hand. He kissed his way up her smooth leg, his mouth hot and wet, short beard scratching against her skin. He continued mapping his way up her body with his mouth, and when he reached her breasts, Fliss arched her back, letting out a soft groan as his mouth gently sucked on one nipple, his hand tweaking at the other.

“Look at you.” He whispered gently against her skin as his tongue continued teasing her, worshipping her with his mouth, the way she deserved. His beautiful Lissy, his girl, so fucking precious it was beyond comprehension to him how anyone could have ever wanted to hurt her. The mere thought was abhorrent and he screwed his eyes up as he felt the tears rushing forwards as he fought the image from his head, and he swallowed, his mouth pausing a little against her breast as he took a shuddering breath.

“Frankie.” She whispered his name, and he opened his eyes to look up at her, her hands moving to cup his face and he pushed himself upwards, as his lips crashed to hers in a desperate, needy kiss. His tongue traced the inside of her mouth as her hands tangled in his hair and she let out a little whimper, tipping her hips up to meet his and the feel of her press against him made him groan, breaking the kiss. Her head fell back, bearing her neck to him and Frank shifted, taking his weight on his palms, caging her between his arms and legs as he pressed soft kisses up her throat.

Fliss felt the warmth in her belly mounting, that familiar ache between her legs was becoming more and more intense, to the point it was almost unbearable. She needed relief, and she wasn’t above begging. “Please, Frank,” she croaked out, her breath coming in deep, ragged pants as her hands dug into his broad back, “I need you.”

“Oh, baby, you got me. Always.”  Frank’s breath was hot on her ear, as he gave that spot on her neck a little nip, dropping to his elbows. His hands snaked up both her arms pulling them from round his back, the points where her nails had been biting into his skin still stinging slightly. He laced his fingers with hers, pressing her hands down at either side of her head as he moved, Fliss shifting underneath him and with a slow, deliberate roll of his hips he sank into her, his head dropping slightly as she fluttered around him, the sound she made almost enough to make him blow there and then.

The feeling of relief at having him inside her caused Fliss’ chest to hitch and her eyes closed momentarily, before she took a shuddering breath as Frank began to slowly roll his hips against hers, each thrust deep, measured, deliberate as he dragged himself against languidly in and out of her. She opened her eyes to see him watching her face intently as her eyes locked onto his, the pupils of those baby blues she loved were blown with desire.

“Frank, you feel so good,” she moaned and he let out a groan of his own at her words, keeping his movements steady, almost leisurely as he continued to watch, her mouth slackening, breathing quickening as he knew she was approaching her peak. When her orgasm rolled over her, she gave a loud cry and melted underneath him,  her nails digging into the skin beneath his knuckles as he picked up the pace, rutting into her a little faster, desperate for his own relief. It didn’t take him long at all, and he felt his stomach tightening and with a hiss and a loud “Fahk” he came with a final deep thrust, his fingers tightening around hers before he collapsed forward, burying his head against her neck.

A quiet bliss, surrounded them like a bubble, keeping them safe from the world, as the room was silent bar the sound of their deep breathing and the crackling of fire as they lay tangled with one another. Fliss’ extracted her hands from his to gently rake one through the back of his hair, the other trailed lightly over the back of his shoulder blades and Frank gave a soft hum of contentment, his eyes closing as they lay still, neither of them wanting to move. Fliss pressed a soft kiss to his warm, clammy forehead and Frank rolled over onto his back with a little sigh, pulling her with him so that she was draped over his chest as he lay between her and the coffee table.

“Can we just stay here?” Fliss asked quietly, and Frank glanced down at her as she pressed her cheek to his chest.

“Whatever you want, Honey.” He agreed, his head looking around before he spotted the blanket on the sofa “Just sit up a moment.”

“Frank!” she whined and he laughed, pushing himself up and jostling her off his chest. “Asshole.”

“I just loved on you well, in front of the fire, and that’s the thanks I get?” Frank hopped up. “Being called an asshole?”

Fliss grinned as she propped herself up on her elbow and watched him, scanning up his legs and strong thighs, taking in his bare ass before she followed his back muscles to those broad shoulders which rippled slightly as he reached over to grab the tartan throw. He turned back to face her and she grinned as his eyes blatantly roved over her in the same way as she lay side on, completely naked, her hair falling over her shoulders.

“You should look like that all the time.” He remarked as he dropped back down and gently wrapped them both in the blanket. “Freshly fucked and naked.”

“Yeah, not so easy when you’ve got a 10 year old and a 7 month old to look after.” She chuckled as she lay her head on his chest. His hand gently carded through her hair and he sighed.

“True.” he looked down at her as she glanced up at him, her chin resting on his chest “But we got a coupla days without them. Maybe I’ll just keep you like this for the duration.”

“Fine by me Sailor. There’s only one slight problem.”

“What’s that?”

“You keep me here, no Ben and Jerry’s on Saturday.”

“That is a dilemma indeed.” Frank mused, “Okay, maybe Saturday I’ll let you out.”

“Good to know where I feature on your list of priorities.” Fliss scoffed and Frank chuckled.

“You can have a lot of fun with ice cream cowgirl.” He smirked, dropping a kiss to her head.

  ***** Frank woke the next morning feeling thoroughly relaxed. He stretched a little where he was lay on his stomach, arms folded under his pillow and raised his head, turning to look at Fliss. She was lay on her back, facing towards him, one arm bent by her head, the other across her chest. She looked so peaceful, her mouth open just a smidge, hair splaying over the pillow. He shifted onto his side, and moved closer to her, pressing a soft kiss to forehead, trailing his lips down her nose to her mouth.

She gave a little sigh, her eyelids fluttering as he kissed her again and he felt her smile, lazily against his mouth.

“Morning, Honey.” He said gently and she gave a little hum of contentment, her sleepy eyes opening to look at him.

“Morning, handsome.” She smiled as he pushed himself up a little to give her a deep kiss, hovering the top half of his body over her slightly. The kiss became soft touches, which led to more urgent touches, and soon he was buried inside of her, his movements lazy as he made love to her, their bodies pressed together as close as could be.

It set the tone for the remainder of the morning, nothing urgent or pressing to do. The time was theirs and theirs alone. After showers they ate breakfast and checked in with the kids before they bundled up and took a short walk into the little town centre, taking a peek in the shops, making a few purchases before they had lunch and then headed back to their cottage. Frank walked up the steps on the porch to unlock the door, and he had just turned round to look at Fliss when he was hit square on the chest with a snowball. He paused, watching as the icy glob slid down the front of his coat and he glanced up to see Fliss stood at the bottom of the steps, laughing.

“Good shot.” He arched an eyebrow.

“Not really, I was aiming for your face.” she tipped her head back, laughing harder as he blinked.

“My face.” he blinked as she nodded. “Oh, Sweetheart, you’re gonna be sorry!”

Her laughter died down as he began to stalk towards her, his pace slow and she stepped back a little before she gave a playful shriek and set off running as best she could in the deep snowfall. Frank dipped down, grabbing a handful of the snow which he rolled into a ball and sent it flying where it hit her right in between her shoulder blades. She screamed, punctuated by more laughter as she bent down and scooped up some more, turning to fling it at him. Frank raised his arm to block it and it exploded on the sleeve of his jacket, and at that he shot forward. She began to back away and just as he reached her she stumbled and flailed backwards. Frank caught her, and pitched them round, the momentum sending them both crashing into the soft snow, Fliss landing with a thud on top of him.

The pair of them were laughing that hard, neither could breathe properly, but Frank somehow managed to gain enough control to grab a scoop of the powdery snow and shove it straight down the back of her coat.

“Oh my god, you asshole!” she shrieked as she felt the cold liquid dribble down her back. “Fuck, shit!”

“I warned you yesterday about startin’ things you can’t finish!” he laughed as she shook her head, shivering.

“Well, I like to live dangerously.” Her laughter subsided and she bent down to give him a soft kiss, her cold, slightly red nose brushing against his. “Ever had sex in the snow?”

He laughed. “Can’t say I have, although I’m not sure I’d be able to. It’s that cold my balls have retreated into my stomach.”

She broke into another fit of giggles before Frank pushed himself up onto his elbows, jolting her slightly and together they got to their feet and headed inside to warm up. After a change into dry clothes and a hot chocolate each, Frank went out to set the car running so it would be warm for their grip out to New Hampshire. Fliss packed a bags with snacks for the trip and at little after three in the afternoon they set off.

There was plenty to see on the way, the landscape was breath-taking, Fliss’ eyes bright as she took it all in, Frank smiling at the joy on her face.  About an hour into the journey, Frank felt Fliss’ eyes watching his profile as he drove so he arched an eyebrow slightly, sneaking a glance at her.

"What?"

"Nothing just,” she reached out to gently twine her hand in his hair, “never noticed before but you're getting a few grey-" "Fucking fuck you." He shot, jerking his head away from her hands as she laughed, her head falling back against the head rest of the seat. "So angry, Adler." "Angry Adler?" Frank arched an eyebrow. “Sounds like some kind of poisonous snake." "You got a snake but it aint poisonous." Fliss grinned and Frank snorted. "Flattery will not detract from the fact you just called me old." "That’s not what I said." Fliss shook her head. "I merely commented on the fact your hair is...: "Going grey, ergo pertaining to the fact I'm getting old!" Fliss shrugged. “I’m kinda down for the silver fox look." "Silver fox?" Frank laughed, looking at her. "That what I am?" "Not yet." Fliss shrugged before she grinned and turned to him. “At the moment you're just a D-B DILF" Frank let out a little laugh, shaking his head. "Let me guess. A Dirty Boat Daddy you like to fuck?" "Damned straight" Fliss smirked, her fingers lacing through his.

Once they arrived they followed the direction from the parking attendant and climbed out, wrapping themselves up before Frank took Fliss’ hand and they headed over to join the queue for their time slot.

“Wow.” Frank heard Fliss breathe out as she got a look at the huge structure that loomed in front of them. Frank smiled, it had been years and years since he’d been here.

“Wait till it goes dark.” He smiled, “It’s something else.”

It didn’t take them too long to get inside, and Frank watched Fliss eyes grow wide with awe as she spotted the huge towers which were dripping with molten-looking ice as they walked through the huge cavernous opening. As per Jake’s recommendation they headed straight for the slide. The line to get on was already huge, but both of them were adamant they wanted to go on it so they waited patiently, Frank chatting to Fliss and giving her a little bit of factual history about how the castles were made. Eventually they reached the front of the line some forty minutes later, and the attendant there asked if they wanted to go down together, which of course they did. Frank hopped down first, Fliss settling between his legs and he gripped her hips, leaning forward.

“Ready?”

“Just push off already, Sailor!” she laughed, and with a snort he sent them sliding down the glassy sheet of ice. Fliss laughed as they sped down the chute, the twists and turns jolting them slightly. It wasn’t as smooth as he expected and when they hit a particularly bout of bumpy rivets, Fliss letting out a squeal, Frank was glad he had a padded coat under his ass or his tail bone would have been protesting. Their slide was over after little more than thirty seconds, and whilst it might have been a ridiculous amount of time to queue for half a minute or so of fun, Frank had to admit as they slowed to a stop at the end, that sliding through an Ice Castle with his girl in front of him, was a pretty awesome experience that he’d queue for all over again.

Together they made their way off to the side and had just set off to explore when suddenly the Castle lit up inside with thousands of LED coloured lights. Fliss mouth dropped open as the opening bars to ‘Let It Go’ from Frozen started to play and the lights followed some form of choreographed routine to the music. They stopped to watch, just like everyone else seemed to have done and when it was over, most people started to clap and cheer.

“Does that happen again?” Fliss looked at Frank as they began to walk through to a smaller room. “The light show?”

“I think so.” He nodded. “From what I remember it does it periodically.”

As they walked through the Castle exploring, it felt like around every corner there were hidden surprises. They found ice sculptures of animals and birds, tunnels which led into smaller caverns with spectacular icicle details hanging above from the ceilings, ice thrones, glowing ice orbs and even a fountain. Fliss took as many photos as she could, even accosting some random guy to take a shot of them together in one of the smaller rooms they found.

After an hour or so they were confident they’d seen everything there was to see so they made their way back to the entrance, Fliss’ arm looped through Frank’s as they strolled over to one of the temporary wooden shacks set up which was serving hot drinks and snacks. They both took a hot cider each and headed to a little table, sitting down.

“The kids would love it in there.” Fliss smiled, taking a sip.

“I was just thinking that.” Frank nodded. “I’m definitely sold on a family winter weekend away.”

“Maybe next year.” She mused. “I mean we can’t this year, what with the wedding and then Disney.”

“Yeah, yeah we do.” Frank smiled. A week to Disney with the kids was what they had settled on as a sort of honeymoon, but post that he had a little something else up his sleeve, something that she was going to have no idea about until it was time for them to go.

“I can’t wait to see Mary’s face when we tell her we’re all going to the house of the mouse.” She grinned

“Yeah, she’ll be almost as excited as you.” Frank raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I’m a huge kid at heart.”

“No shit.” He replied and she laughed.

“Oh don’t act like you aint. I heard you giggling away in there when we were on that slide.”

“Well…” He leaned over the table, smiling slightly. “You bring out my inner child, what can I say?”

Fliss grinned and leaned over to give him a soft kiss before she pulled back and smiled, giving a sigh. “Suppose we should head back, it’s getting a little late.”

Frank was loathe to concede she was right. They finished their drinks and headed back to the car, Fliss taking a fond look back at the Ice Castle before climbing into the car. By the time they got back, the pair of them were starving, so the hot tub went another night without use as they made a very good sized dent into the Hamper that Steve had sent them. Once they’d  drunk another few glasses of wine they collapsed into bed with full bellies, snuggled together, falling into a comfortable and deep sleep.

***** Fliss woke the next morning before Frank and so she gently kissed his cheek, slipped from the sheets and pulled his hoody over her top as it was a little chilly. She turned up the thermostat and then headed into the kitchen to make a coffee before she settled in the little living room with her book. But she couldn’t concentrate. Her mind was wandering to the kids and she was feeling a little lost now without them. She hadn’t been apart from Alex for more than a night before, and she couldn’t help but miss him, and Mary too.

With a deep sigh she turned the TV on, flicking through the channels and little over half an hour later, Frank padded in, his hair all over the place as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.

“You’re up early.” He said, flopping down next to her, giving her a quick peck.

“I know.” She shrugged. “Think I’m just used to being up early with the kids.” Frank yawned, stretching his legs out, feet resting on the edge of the coffee table as Fliss nestled into him. “Is it wrong that I miss them?”

“No.” Frank gently rubbed his hand up her arm as she gave a little sniffle, pressing her face into his t-shirt. “I miss them being here too. Don’t get upset, Honey.”

“I’m sorry, this is pathetic.”

“It’s not. But uou know what is?” Frank looked down at her, wiping her tears gently. “How excited this thirty-nine year old is about going to an ice cream factory.” At that Fliss spluttered a soft laugh and Frank smiled. “The kids will be fine, Alex is too young to even know we’re gone and, well, Mary won’t care. Not with your mom, dad and Steve fussing over her.”

“I know.”

“You know I’m right or that I’m pathetic?”

“Both.” She smiled up at him and Frank gave a little snort.

After a lazy breakfast they headed into town again for another little walk, Frank skipping lunch so he could eat as much ice cream as humanly possible. Then they made the short drive to Waterbury, the brightly coloured Ice Cream factory making Frank grin like a child as they pulled into a parking space.

“You now, this is basically my childhood dream.” He grinned at Fliss as they climbed out of the car and she rolled her eyes, chuckling to herself.

“Low aspirations there, Sailor!”

He shrugged and they headed inside, Fliss handing her reservation number over to the assistant and they were directed down to the lobby. As they walked, they took in the artwork that adorned the walls detailing the history of the company, which made for an interesting browse. But as soon as they crossed the threshold of the lobby, it was the smell that got them both. It was sweet, notes of vanilla and sugar making them both smile. Whilst they waited in line for their tour to start, they scanned the flavor map that was on the wall, both pointing at various places, and then a bell rang.

“Good afternoon!” A cheery voice spoke and they both turned to the front to see a man stood on a little box, seemingly having appeared from nowhere. “My name is Ben, yes, that is my real name but sadly, no, I’m not the Ben.” A few chuckles rang out. “I’m merely a tour-guide, your tour-guide for the next hour or so in fact. But, before we start I need to tell you a couple of the usual boring housekeeping rules…”

Ben, not the Ben, ran through the usual emergency protocols and stuff, before he clapped his hands together and smiled.

“So, the first stop is the theatre room where you’ll watch a short video on the creation and mission of Ben & Jerry's. No one does ice cream better than BJ. And, as I’m sure most of you will know, BJs come in all sorts of flavours and rarely fail to satisfy.”

At that Frank gave a snort along with a couple of other adults on the tour at the innuendo and Fliss nudged him, grinning at his dirty mind.

“We have a worldwide reputation for excellence, quality, and flavors that are, quite frankly, unparalleled by any other ice cream maker in the world.” The tour guide continued. “Right here, in the town of Waterbury, the Ben & Jerry's factory has been operating since 1985 and it continues to create just as many delicious ice cream flavors as it did when it first opened.” He smiled “Right, so if you would follow me, I’ll take you through. The film is only about five minutes long or so but quality over quantity and after that then the fun really begins.”

A door to their right swung open and the group headed inside, Frank and Fliss taking seats at the back. The lights dimmed and a colourful cartoon began to show, running over the history of the company. Frank, being an avid fan, already knew most of it but to Fliss it was a nice bit of background information.

The little film finished and the lights flicked on again and Ben once more appeared at the front.

“So, now you have the scoop on Ben & Jerry’s…” He began and a few people, including Frank, groaned at the pun and the man held up an apologetic hand. “Yes, I know and I’m sorry to say you’re gonna hear more awful puns as we go along. In fact my legen-dairy puns are actively cone-doned here.”

Frank let out a chuckle as did Fliss.

“Ok, without further ado, let’s go!” The tour guide smiled.

Following in the middle of the group, Frank and Fliss were led into the main factory area where they were able to peer through a glass overlook and look down on the operation below. The ice cream-making process was ongoing and the tour guide began to identify various points of the production process. Frank watched the workers down below, operating the various pieces of equipment, fascinated by it all. They were there for about twenty minutes or so as the manufacturing process was explained, and then they were led to the room which was the one Frank was dying to see- The Flavour-Building room.

Simply put, he was in an ice-cream lover’s heaven. As they walked around they soaked in all the information about where they got the ideas from, the Public engagement and market research process and how they offered opportunities for people to become testers, which Frank made a note of vowing to put in his application. They were then given a sample of a new flavour that hadn’t yet been released, a banana and chocolate one that Fliss pulled a face at but Frank really liked. Neither could deny, however, that there was something truly special about actually trying the ice cream straight from the source. Whilst the pints you could get from the store were incredible, trying fresh ice cream from the factory was nothing short of perfection.

“I’m afraid, Ladies and Gents that we are at the end of the tour. Short, and sweet, yes, pun very much intended, but whilst the guided tour ends here, your Ben & Jerry’s experience doesn’t have to.” Ben grinned. “Our gift-shop should provide you with ample opportunity to browse and buy any souvenirs, and then, why not head down to our Flavor Graveyard to mourn the passing of our dearly de-pinted ice cream flavors. You can also take a vote on your way out as to which one of our offered de-pinted flavours you would like to resurrect.”

After thanking him on their way out of the room, Frank and Fliss wandered round the gift shop and bought a couple of things, and then made their way back outside into the bitter air, walking over to the graveyard. They chuckled at a few of the tomb stones, Fliss pointing out that some of them sounded pretty nice, until she stopped dead at one and cocked her head to one side.

“Peanut Butter and Jelly. Peanut Butter Ice Cream with Peanut Butter Bits and Strawberry Jelly Swirl1 1989-1990” she read and Frank gave a groan of nostalgia as she continued to read the epitaph underneath “An unbeatable duo! Yet somehow it managed to flop in a cone, so we stuck to the sammich.”

“God I loved that as a kid!” Frank sighed. “Dad used to always come home with a pint of it on a Friday. It was gone by Saturday morning. Me and Diane used to fight him for it.”  He took a deep breath before nodding firmly. “That’s the one I’m voting to have resurrected. You also need to vote for it.”

“Isn’t voting supposed to be done in secret?” Fliss looked at him as he dropped his arm round her shoulder and they made their way back towards the main area of the buildings.

“True, but I won’t tell if you won’t.” He grinned. “Now, can we go and eat some ice cream? That mouthful in there was nowhere near enough to satisfy me.”

“Whatever you want, Sailor.” She chuckled as she leaned into him a little, smiling. “Whatever you want.”

*****

Whatever he wanted turned out to be about twenty bucks worth of ice cream sundaes complete with every topping imaginable, so by the time they walked back to the cottage after a few drinks in one of the local breweries, Frank was well and truly ready to fat float in the tub thanks to the combination of beer and ice cream in his stomach.

They called back home, Fliss smiling as Alex sat on Bill’s knee, making a grabbing hand at the screen of the phone, Mary chatting away telling them all about how Steve had taken her, Charlie and Joel out to the Zoo for the day. By the time they were done it was pushing seven pm so they both changed, Fliss heading out to the tub with the fluffy guest towels, whilst Frank followed a little while later with the bottle of champagne that had been in the fridge along with a couple of beers for himself. He popped the cork, poured Fliss a glass and then placed the bottle down by the side of the tub next to his spare beers, quipping that given the temperature outside he knew there was no need for an ice bucket.

They sat and watched the moonlight reflecting off the snow of the mountain back drop, simply drinking and chatting, and before they knew it an hour had passed and they had somehow gotten onto the subject of that year’s elections, having seen the first drabbles of news about the rumoured Democrat candidates. When Fliss commented to Frank that she had a horrible suspicion Trump would get re-elected, Frank groaned and slid under the water, pretending to drown himself. When he emerged, he shook his head in the manner of a dog and Fliss chuckled.

“So, if you were president what would be the first thing you'd do, Sailor?” she asked, stretching out her legs along the bench she was sat on, her feet laying flat just to the side of Frank’s right thigh.

“Make being Donald Trump a crime punishable by death.” Frank shot back and Fliss let out a loud laugh.

“That's a little over the top.”

“So is his tan.” Frank shrugged and Fliss snorted again. “What about you?”

Fliss pondered “I’d make three day weekends the law.”

At that Frank looked at her, scoffing. “You work for yourself, you could have a three day weekend if you wanted one.”

“But I don’t.”

“So why would you make it the law then?” he laughed.

“Because I’m thinking of other people.”

“Socialism.” Frank nodded, “Good call.”

Fliss grinned. “And I’d also make it a legal requirement for you to be Professor Adler more often.”

“Assistant Professor.”

“Details.” Fliss waved her hand.

“And what do you mean, more often?” He cocked his head to one side “I’ve never been a Professor in the entire time you’ve known me.”

“You talk like one.”

“No I don’t”

“You so do.” Fliss smirked. “When you’re helping Mary with her homework, debates, the other day on the flight over…”

“Okay, maybe some times, but not much.”

“You should do it more. It’s kinda hot.”

"Is this some kind of strange authority kink? You know, to go along with the grease monkey one?"

Fliss let out a groan "Professor Adler in a shirt with rolled up sleeves and dirty arms and face..." she bit her lip and Frank let out a loud snort as he shook his head.

"You have a problem."

"Yeah, a big one. In that now I can't get that fucking image out of my head.” She cocked her head to one side as Frank laughed. “Hey, did you ever fuck any of your students? You know, favours for extra credit?"

Frank choked on the mouthful of beer he had just taken. "You’re a dick"

"I'll take that as a no then."

"No I didn't. Because that would have been a gross abuse of power."

“So not because you didn’t want to?”

“Fucking hell, Fliss!” he shook his head, before he smirked "I might have had you been one of them. Especially if your mouth was a smart back then as it is now."

"You've never complained about my smart mouth before." She teased.

"That's because you put it to good use." Frank looked at her, his eyes darkening "Had you used it to sass me like you do, in one of my lectures, I'd have been pissed"

"How pissed?" She asked, her leg dropping off the ledge she was sat on, foot trailing up the inside of his calf.

"Seriously pissed."

"Yeah?" Her foot stopped at his thigh and his hand reached under the water, gently grabbing her ankle. He shifted a little, the tightness in his swim-shorts a good indication about how he was finding this much more of a turn on than he should, and levelled her with a stern look. He saw her chest hitch a little and he arched an eyebrow.

"You're in danger of finding out if you carry on." He all but growled.

Fliss bit her lip before she shifted and pulled her leg from his grasp before she moved over the tub, glass in her hand as she straddled him. "Know what I am very good at finishing?"

"What?" Frank swallowed, the feel of her in his lap was doing nothing to help his little situation so to speak.

"Champagne." She smirked, raising the glass to her lips as she tossed the rest of the white down her throat. Frank let out a groan of a chuckle as she laughed, gently kissing his cheek. "Sadly, that was the last of it. Shall I open that final bottle of red wine?”

"Sure, I'm all gassed out from beer." Frank nodded, draining his bottle. “I’ll get it, sweetheart.”

"Its fine. I need to pee anyway.”  Fliss moved to stand up, giving a little squeal, ducking back down under the water. “Fuck its cold."

"Kinda happened when you're in a mountain resort surrounded by snow."

"Asshole" she rolled her eyes before she stood up again, giving Frank an eyeful of the front of her body. Her arms and shoulders were ridiculously defined thanks to her riding and physical job, her large breasts were swelling over the top of the green bikini top she was wearing which sported a large knot at the front, the bottoms slung low on her hips as the decorative buckle sat over her reasonably flat but soft stomach, the faded, silvery stretch marks which were just about visible as they glistened with water, a reminder of how she'd carried, given birth and nurtured his son.

She was a marvel, and as he looked her up and down she flushed a little, the way she always did when he was blatantly ogling her and he shrugged. With a coy glance over her shoulder she climbed up the steps to the tub to hop out and Frank then got an eyeful of her firm ass and stupidly toned legs as she wrapped herself in a towel and headed quickly across the decking to the door that led into the kitchen area.

Frank leaned back in the arm water with a sigh as she disappeared from sight, contemplating not for the first time, just how much his life had changed since she had walked into it. He had no doubt in his mind she’d sent him along a completely different path, a far better path, despite the little bumps along the way. Her family had welcomed him and Mary with open arms, and right from the start had treat them both like they were their own. She’d encouraged his reconciliation with his mother, embraced and positively enjoyed the birth of their son despite the fact he knew full well some people had shitty comments about how soon and fast that had all come around with them being together just over a year. But time didn’t mean shit to him, as he’d said the other night, he’d known since that first kiss they’d had on the borrowed boat that if he never held another woman in his arms in his life he’d die a happy man.

But it wasn’t just him that had changed. Fliss had become far more confident and assure in herself as she had settled into a relationship that she felt safe and comfortable in. She still had her little moments and there were so many things they had never actually experienced together that she had tentative memories of, but they worked through them. Even when they argued, in a twisted way it made Frank feel almost pleased that she felt safe enough with him to call him out on his bullshit or stand her ground, even if she was wrong, without fear of getting a beating in retaliation. She’d opened herself to him intimately as well, in ways she’d admitted she’d been scared of because she’d had nothing but brutal or rough memories.

Suddenly his mind flew back to that evening on the boat in their garage a few weeks ago, when he’d pushed her just that little bit further and been pretty rough with her, remembering how he’d fucked her from behind as she leant over the bench at the back. God, that had been incredible.

And now his little problem was a pretty large one as he was rock hard. He slipped his hand down under the water, in an attempt to try and make himself feel a little more comfortable but it was no use. He knew that the only way was going to sort this out, so to speak, was currently bustling around in the kitchen.

Fuck it.

Rising out of the water, he hopped out of the tub and strode across the decking, the wood cold on his feet as he made his way purposefully into the kitchen. Fliss was just turning setting two wine glasses out on the side,  and without warning, he strode up behind her and grabbed her hips over the top of the towel she was wrapped in. She gave a little squeak as he spun her round, his lips crashing to hers in a bruising kiss.

“Frank…” she mumbled, and he shook his head.

“Shut up.” He muttered, his lips back on hers. His tongue slid across her upper lip and she gave a soft groan, opening her mouth, allowing him to taste all of her, one hand sliding into her hair as he held her to him, not giving her an inch of space, his rock hard dick pressing into her stomach. She reached for his face but at the motion, his hands grabbed her wrists and forced them back to her sides, clearly, but wordlessly telling her who was in charge as he pulled away, his forehead pressing to hers as he untucked the towel, letting it drop to the floor. One hand sliding up her bare side, over her breast and came to rest at the base of her throat and he hesitated for a second, suddenly his memory spiked with the imagery of angry red finger marks around her delicate neck courtesy of that fucker in Boston almost eighteen months before. He stopped dead, his chest heaved, as for the first time Frank found himself a little lost about just how to proceed, worried he’d over stepped the mark.

And then Fliss’ eyes flashed, with excited trepidation as she leaned forward a little, her hand curling around his wrist.

“Do it.” She whispered, her lips ghosting his.

And at that Frank lost all self-control, a door he’d kept locked for as long as they’d been intimate was blown open the moment the words left her mouth.

Their lips found one another again, his hands moving to her waist to both pull her closer and he began to tug at her bikini bottoms, and in a quick swoop shoved them down as he took hold of her hips again so to manoeuvre her wherever he wanted, the pair of them stumbling a little before he roughly picked her up. Her bare legs immediately wrapped around his slim waist and her arms went around his neck as he slammed her up against the cold glass of the patio doors that led out to the decking. Using it as support he shifted his grip from under her ass, one hand wrapped around the back of her neck, holding her head in position as he kissed her, while the other pried her hands from around him. He wrapped his large hand round both of her wrists, pinning her arms above her head and held them there tightly as his mouth continued to fuck hers, hard, deliberate swipes of his tongue over hers, swallowing the little sighs and whimpers she was making.

Fliss rolled her hips hard against him which was enough to distract him a little, his mouth pausing, but not for long. His lips moved from hers, down to her jaw, her neck, and he bit and sucked, his lust addled brain not giving a single shit if he marked her flawless skin. The hand that was wrapped round her neck moved, skating down her side and over her bare stomach and she arched into the touch, wanting him to move a bit south, but his hand stopped an inch away from where she wanted it to be.

“You’re mine.” Frank’s voice was right by her ear, and he spoke with a deep, almost dark tone that Fliss had never heard from him before. It was full of desire, and it sent a shiver down her spin as once more she attempted to thrust up into his hand, desperate for any sense of relief. But he pulled away a little, making her whine a bit. “Ah ah, baby girl.”

“Frank.” she breathed out, stumbling over her words “Fuck, I…”

He cut her off as he surged forward, kissing her desperately and she openly cried out into his mouth as two of his fingers slipped inside of her. His motions were fast and aggressive and he brought her to the brink, and then stopped.

“Like that?” He breathed out, voice ragged, his lips brushing hers. “Tell me you do and you want this.” “Frankie, please.” She thrust her hips out toward him, gasping “I want you, always…”

At her words Frank felt his cock twitch and with a growl that was positively feral, his hand reached into his swim-shorts as he freed his painfully hard erection from them. He pushed the tip of his cock into her folds, pausing slightly before he slammed the rest of the way into her, making her cry out sharply. He continued to rut into her over and over causing the patio doors to rattle a little, and, as he looked up into her eyes, he found them wide with a look of surprise and downright lust which drove him even wilder and he dropped his head to the swell of her breasts. His free hand moved, pulling the cups of her bikini down and his mouth went to work, sucking and nipping, leaving red marks across her skin as his teeth and beard bit and scratched her raw as his hips snapped back and forth with an avaricious pace.

As he rolled a nipple between his teeth, Fliss let out a loud cry and tried to lean in more to him more, the motion made him go deeper inside of her, which caused them both to groan at the feeling. At that Frank moved his mouth back to hers, both messily kissing each other as he spun her round and stumbled around the kitchen area before he lay her a little roughly over the island in the middle, yanking her back slightly so that her ass hung off the side. His hips pistoned in and out of her with a force that it jolted her body back and forth, her hands flying to either side of her, palms slapping down on the cool surface. She arched her back, her ankles locking around his waist as he leaned down to kiss her again, his brow now beaded with sweat, chest heaving as he felt the coil in his belly starting to tighten.

“Fuck, Frank, I’m gonna…” Fliss felt the red, hot feeling brewing between her legs and thighs, her belly contracting as she teetered along the edge of her orgasm and at her words Frank slammed into her even harder before he gave a dirty little grind against her, repeating the motion a few more times and then she was done. She let out a loud scream and tightened around him, white lights exploding in front of her eyes as the entire world faded to nothing but a jumble of shapes and distant noises as her release wracked her entire body. Her legs trembled around him, gripping him tighter around his waist as she continued to groan out incoherently and at the feel of her tight heat pulsing around him, Frank’s final few thrusts became desperate before he gave a loud “Fahhk…” and he came, hard, his knees buckling slightly as he gripped at the edge of the counter, trying to steady himself.

His arms trembled as he gasped, before he leaned forward, his forehead pressing into her chest as she lay there, legs hanging off the side of the counter, her breathing deep, hands gently tangling in his hair as they both desperately tried to right themselves. Eventually, Frank found the strength to raise his head, his softening cock still stuffed inside of Fliss as he moved to kiss her again. This time the kiss was soft, and loaded with love as he slid his nose against hers, his eyes closed.

“Did I hurt you?” He swallowed, his voice raspy and Fliss shook her head.

“No, you would never hurt me.” She whispered. At that Frank opened his eyes to find her smiling gently at him, her face flushed, a look of sated satisfaction across her pretty features.

“I don’t know what came over me.” He shrugged, almost apologetically and she chuckled, her hand sliding to his shoulders.

“I don’t care.” She took another deep breath “Frank, that was…”

“Yeah.” He agreed, not needing to hear what she was going to say. “I know.”

“I think I’m done in the tub.” She mumbled and Frank chuckled.

“Bed?”

“Yeah. We should probably shower first.”

“Okay.” He move and pulled out of her slowly, before he tucked himself back into his shorts. Fliss pushed herself up into a sitting position and he gently wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her towards him. Her legs once more wrapped around his waist and she kissed him again, her hands sliding through his hair before he gently set her down on the floor. He took his time to scan her up and down as she sorted her swimwear, not missing the red marks on her neck, or the finger shaped ones on her hips where he’d manhandled her. He gently reached out to brush over the red lines he’d made just above her bikini bottoms with the pads of his fingers and her hands fell over his, and she shook her head.

“Don’t “she said gently as he looked up at her, his eyes locking onto hers. “They were made with love, not anger, Frank.”

He swallowed a little at her words, as she kissed him again, and then with her fingers laced into his she turned and they made their way to the bedroom. They took a quick joint shower, cleaning up, sharing a few more gentle kisses and hugs before they dried off and collapsed into bed, utterly spent.

“I love you sweetheart.” Frank pulled Fliss close, her back pressing to his chest as he pressed a soft kiss to her neck. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too, baby.” She yawned, shuffling back into him as they both closed their eyes and settled down, sleep claiming them in a ridiculously short time.

**** The next morning they both woke and lay in bed, just cuddling and chatting for a while before it was time to pack up and head to the airport. They packed their heavy winter coats into their bags just before check in and then headed through security and settled into the bar for a drink whilst they waited for their flight.

Thankfully, their trip home was as smooth as their trip out, no bags went missing and their transfer was on time, so at just after 3pm they touched down in Florida. Little over half an hour later they emerged into the arrivals lounge at Tampa Airport and Frank chuckled as Mary ran to them both. He dropped the bags he was carrying, swinging her up into his arms with a groan, dropping a kiss to her cheek as she hugged him. He then placed her onto the floor and she moved to hug Fliss.

“I missed you both!” She grinned as Fliss straightened up.

“We missed you too!” Fliss smiled at her, before she looked at her Dad who had just given Frank a quick back slapping embrace. “How’s Alex?”

“He’s fine, he’d just gone down when I came out to pick you up.” Bill smiled, giving her a hug. “So, did you have a nice time?”

“It was great.” Frank smiled, picking up his bag as Bill reached to take Fliss’. “Loved every second of it.”

“Did you bring me a present?” Mary demanded as they headed through towards the elevator to take them to the parking lot.

“Matter of fact, yes we did.” Frank smiled and he reached into his small carry-on bag , pulling out a half drunk bottle of water. “Brought you some genuine Vermont snow except it melted, so now it’s more genuine Vermont water.”

Mary looked at it, then to him. “That’s not funny, Dad.” She glared as Bill roared with laughter. She snatched the bottle of Evian and then gave a scoff. “You could have at least tried to make the joke with a bottle of water from this country.”

“So ungrateful.” Frank took it back from her and twisted the cap off, taking a long drink as the elevator doors opened. “Tell you what, snow water sure does taste good.”

Marry rolled her eyes before she turned to Bill. “Can I stay with you?”

“Course you can love.”

“Good, because you’re much less of an idiot than he is.” She jerked her thumb at Frank who arched his eyebrow at her.

“Oh I dunno about that.” Fliss quipped cheekily as Bill looked at her, his eyebrow raised. “I could tell you a few tales about some pretty dumb stuff he’s done.”

“Like what?” Mary asked.

“Like the time he crashed a fork-lift into the side of a van on a building site.” Fliss mused. “Or when he dropped a hammer on his foot and broke two of his toes when he was putting up a shelf in the kitchen.”

“Are we going there, Titch?” Bill turned to her as he selected the floor for their car, Frank and Mary’s laughter echoing around the elevator. “Because as far as doing stupid stuff goes, you and your brother take the biscuit.”

“Cookie.” Mary looked at him. “They take the cookie.”

“Biscuit.” Bill shot back.

“We had this discussion last night, Poppa Bill!” Mary shook her head. “It’s a cookie.”

Bill looked down at her, then to Frank.

“I changed my mind, you can keep her.” He deadpanned.

**** Chapter 21

[janaeekook]

Forlorn;

(a/n: hey guys this is a school assignment I had to write and I based the main male character off Johnny so here this is!)

pairing: 1920’s mobster!johnny x oc

warnings: character death, angsty

word count: 1.5k

-

1919, the story of a simple farmers girl from Michigan, me, Rebecca Jayne. Though my story is short and forlorning, I'm here to tell it anyway. It was simple the way it started, I was a young girl just starting adulthood and wishing to live out my dream away from my parents. That dream was to live under New York city lights and dance on grand stages and show the world my talent, prove my parents that I could do what they had told me I couldn’t. I wanted to prove them wrong to show them that I was capable of achieving my dream. I wasn’t their sweet and innocent little girl anymore, but a woman who had her own thoughts and beliefs. Though I never believed they’d truly understand, but undoubtedly I knew they couldn’t be mad at me forever.

And So I was on the next train to New York, the morning of September 21st, Headed east. My dream lay on the horizon and I was headed straight towards it. In that moment as I watched the green plains of the fields from the window of the train as I passed by, It truly did feel like a dream. Butterflies erupting in my stomach like a wild explosion of nerves and pure excitement.

“This is it” I mumbled to myself. 

I pulled out the last letter my friend whom I’d danced with in Michigan, Jordan, we’d been writing. She had always had the same dream as me, maybe that’s why we became friends. She had moved to New York last year and we’d been writing ever since, she told me of her adventures and everything magnificent of the city. She helped me find a place to stay while I was there, A simple yet quaint lodging house, a small room yet it was perfect for me. The start of my new life began there in that small room 

The studio hadn’t been far, just a few blocks away from where I would be staying, so I was able to walk to and from everyday. I settled into the room nicely, a simple wire frame bed pressed against the left wall and a dresser pressed against the right, a window on the furthest wall. I was only able to smile in that moment, because it was my own, my own space. That first day in the city I unpacked my belongings and made myself comfortable. The weeks to come were the days things truly started for me, I had my audition at the studio, though I already had an in which guaranteed me a spot though I didn’t know, thinking that all I needed was my hard work and determination. Which to an extent was true but they’d heard plenty of my abilities.

Everything seemed to rush to a start, I danced, new and old friends at my side as we perfected routines for our performances. Everything was Jazz, decorated in bright lights, and sequins galore. The calendar soon greeted us with the turn to 1920, I had been in the city for 3 months before I finally met my beloved Johnny. He had been tall as he stood at the bar watching the stage, his eyes never fleeting my form. Well put together, his blazer fit him well, He dazzled by himself alone. We eventually got to talking, and it too was simple.

He approached me first, “You’re new.”

“It’s that obvious?”

He hummed, “You out-shine everyone on the stage, darling.” My cheeks heated profusely.

“Well I wouldn’t say that.”

“Where are you from-” He paused, eyes searching yours as he expectantly awaited your name.

“Rebecca.”

“Rebecca,” He repeated and his smile was bright enough to out-shine the sun, “Where are you from, Rebecca?” 

“Michigan.”

“And what possibly could have brought you to the city?”

“I’m following a dream.”

“So you are.” He said with another smile.

We met at the club every weekend, he’d watch as I danced with a smile, before greeting me after in conversation. Life went on like that, sharing my life with Johnny, until we were all forced underground. Prohibition had been passed, but it didn’t stop the business, different clubs creating invite only speakeasies. The now illicit activities that I had lived by continued behind closed doors, club managers, bartenders and us Jazz dancers working in the dark, late through the night.

Johnny had gotten an invite, so he still came and watched me dance, speaking more of our lives. We did it for months, just out late talking at the club, months of nothing more than friendship. 

“Why don’t we meet up out of this place?” He’d asked suddenly on the first Saturday of December.

I’d quickly said yes. Everything about him seemed to enchant me, pull me into the swells of his boisterous being. Though I never fought it, albeit because I was too weak and his love was strong, or rather we were both simply, madly and truly in love, both a drug for each other. Young love was such an inviting prospect that I looked over who he may really be, seemingly skipping a page in a novel that told the preposterous backstory of the hidden main character. I had only read the good parts, studied them in fact, believing that it was all him and ignoring the shadows.

But the night came and went, Johnny never showed, It was a get together outside of my tasseled dress and feathered headpiece, no dazzling lights or sparkles just me and him as one may call normal. But he never did show. Though you thought, there must be a valid reason for his absence.

He only arrived the next day, flowers and an apology pleading on his pink lips. He had got caught up at work, he’d said, Though in the moment when I let him into my quiet room of the lodging house with a bright forgiving smile-- I hadn’t known that the work that he had spoken of was killing a man. A man who had merely said the wrong thing to the wrong person and paid with his life. It was the work of mobsters, Johnny had never stricken me as the type, it wasn’t even a possibility in my head, because there was absolutely no way he could be a member of the mob. We visited with each other for hours, talking about everything as we always did until there was nothing more to talk about. ‘You should come to my new years party to make up for this’ He’d told me, funny it was, how we’d known each other for nearly a year and he was just now wishing to introduce me as someone he was seeing. He wanted to show me off and get approval from his friends who I had yet to find out were members of the mob. I agreed to his proposal, for I always loved a good party.

Quickly that night came, His party  was a wave of people, roaring with intoxicated laughter, dancing as they wished without a care in the world. One may say a party, of the caliber Jonathan would throw them, was extravagant. The type of party people wished to experience at least once in their life. That was my, once, before I'd even known it. How could I have known? Had I known would it have changed anything of the outcome? Perhaps not, because he still would have asked me to dance and I still would have been enchanted by the familiar glint in his eyes and the chaste smile on his lips, I would never decline a dance not from him. So I took his hand, his eyes not glancing away for a second, He merely waved his hand at the musicians and the jazz tune that played, changed to a melodic piano waltz.

I can still hear it- the piano like a ghost lingering in my ear, we were the only one’s left on the dance floor. Do you know what it’s like? Having someone hold you so close in their arms as the world around you seemed to fall away, only to then die in those same arms as he tried to stop the profuse bleeding of your wound, where a bullet had slipped through the flesh of your stomach. I ask again- Do you know what it's like? Have you watched a fair dress become stained from the inside out? Maybe not, maybe you haven’t quite lived an as traumatic life as my own. It wasn’t death itself I had ever been afraid of but rather the aspect of its permanence. Though as screams became muffled as well as the haunting toll of the clock striking twelve, and my eyes drifted from Johnny’s face to the grand ceiling, I couldn’t help but think-- what an  adventure death would bring.

I died that night, adding a star to the inky black sky. I had only wished I'd been able to tell my parents about him, and had been able to tell Johnny of our unborn child that left this world with me.

[nyotamalfoy]

"Unexpected." - Part 2 Cillian Murphy x fem!Reader

Requested by the wonderful @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby 💖

Part 1 can be found here

“Hey, Neil! Is that her? Is that (Y/N)?” Helen slaps Neil’s arm and points out the window as they drive around the city, still looking for (Y/N).   

“Where?” Sophie calls out from the back as Neil snaps his head around to where Helen was pointing.   

“Oh my god,” Neil mutters in worry as he makes out the outline of his niece lying on a bench.   

They all run out as soon as he parks the car and gasp as they reach her side. Her foot was bloody, mostly dried blood, and her face was covered in dried tear tracks. 

“This is all my fault, I shouldn’t have left her alone,” Neil says as he kneels down and tucks a piece of hair behind (Y/N)’s ears. He looks like he is about to break down when Helen puts a hand on his shoulders and tries to comfort him.   

“It’s not your fault, Neil. Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Helen says, rubbing his back.  

“Yes, we’ve found her…near the beach side café…yes that’s the one…here, take a right, I can see you,” Sophie talks into her phone as she waves her hand over her head trying to catch the attention of the newly arrived car consisting of the rest of the search party, Paul, Finn, Joe and Tom.  

“Is she okay?” Tom called out as they all got out of Paul’s car.   

Neil tries to wake her up, shaking her shoulders, but she doesn’t budge. He asks if anyone has water and waits as Finn rushes to Paul’s car to get a bottle. He splashes a few drops on (Y/N)’s face and almost cries in relief as her eyes flutter open.   

“What happened?” (Y/N) asks in a groggy voice as she sits upright and holds a hand to her forehead. She looks positively exhausted and cold, very cold. She rubs her arms for warmth as she looks around her in surprise at the small crowd of very famous people asking if she was alright before she remembers what happened that morning.   

Neil immediately hugs her and whispers repeatedly in her ears how he is glad that she’s okay and he keeps saying sorry, much to (Y/N)’s confusion.    

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“Are you sure you’re okay?” Neil asks (Y/N) for the hundredth time as he tucks her in for bed.   

“I’m fine, Neil,” (Y/N) smiles and replies while feeling a little embarrassed at her outburst a few hours ago.   

“Okay, sleep well, kid.” Neil kisses her forehead before turning off the light and closing her door.   

As he was changing into his t-shirt to sleep, his phone rang from the beside his bed. The screen reading Cillian.   

‘Why is he calling at this time?’ Neil thought to himself, answering it anyway.  

“Hello?”   

“Hey, Neil, uh- I wanted to- uh-…is (Y/N) there?” Cillian stutters as Neil becomes a bit suspicious.  

“She’s asleep, why?”   

“Uh- It’s just that, um…oh, stuff it. I wanted to apologize to her for being a jerk and ruining her day. She didn’t deserve this and I know its my fault. I just want her to know that she wasn’t the problem there and I had a bad day and I took it out on her which I shouldn’t have-”   

“Okay! Cillian, calm down, I’ll ask her to call you tomorrow morning, alright?” Neil cut off Cillian’s rambling and knew at that moment that he did really feel bad for saying all those things.   

“Yeah, okay, thanks, Neil.” Cillian says, as if still in a daze, and hangs up.   

Neil puts down his phone and smiles in amazement. Cillian was such a put-together person; he never stuttered or rambled. Something really had Cillian on edge, and it wasn’t hard to notice that the something was probably his guilt for being rude to someone, him being the soft baby that he is.  

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“Good morning, (Y/N),” Neil greets her from the dining table, coffee mug and mobile phone in hand.   

“Morning,” (Y/N) mutters as she drags her feet to the fridge to get cereal, careful not to put too much pressure on the injured leg.  

“Cillian called last night,” Neil starts, still looking at his phone, reading something and sipping his coffee. “He says he’s really sorry about yesterday. He went on and on about how rude he was, and I told him that you’ll call him in the morning. Which is about now.” He checks the time and turns to her.  

“Wait, Cillian, as in Cillian Murphy?” (Y/N) asked, her eyes wide.   

“How many Cillians do you know (Y/N)?”  

“So, the Cillian Murphy, called you, to apologise to me?”   

“Yes, so are you going to call him or not?”  

“Should I? I mean, he was pretty rude to me yesterday.” (Y/N) hugged her arms around herself and looked down.   

“He isn’t like that normally, (Y/N). He is literally the nicest person you’ll ever meet but he just had a really bad morning yesterday and he took it out on the first person he saw.” Neil puts his finger up as (Y/N) opens her mouth to speak. “I know it doesn’t justify his words, but he really did sound guilty and sincere when he called last night.”  

(Y/N) contemplated the idea for some time before finally agreeing to talk to Cillian. She took his number from Neil and called from her phone. She waited with bated breath and tried to calm her nerves considering that she was calling the person who she’d had a crush on for years. Even though, he had been a bit rude to her, she was willing to give him a second chance knowing that yesterday might’ve just been a bad day. Something that she could relate to very well.  

“Hello, who’s this?” Cillian’s voice floated through her phone once he picked up after 3 or 4 rings.  

“Um, it’s (Y/N). You wanted to talk to me?” (Y/N) asked once the initial shock had worn off.  

“Yes! (Y/N), first of all, I’m glad you called me back because to be honest, I thought you’d hate me after yesterday. Secondly, I am honestly, truly, genuinely sorry for how I behaved with you. I was a total jerk and didn’t think before I said whatever I said. I just- (Y/N)? Are you there?”   

“I’m here,” (Y/N) said, mildly surprised, with her eyebrows raised and her mouth slightly parted.   

“Good, so my point was, can I make it up to you? I just feel so terrible knowing I ruined your special day.”   

“I- uhm, sure.”   

“So, can we meet somewhere today?” Cillian asks, sounding hopeful.   

“Yeah, I guess.” (Y/N) nods her head, even though he can’t see it.  

“I’ll text you the details soon, alright? I’m sorry again, (Y/N). I’ll see you later, then?”   

“Yeah, see ya.” (Y/N) hangs up the phone, still in a trance, and walks downstairs.   

“Neil, you’ll never guess what just happened,” (Y/N) calls out as she goes into the kitchen, expecting to see Neil sitting there, but finds it empty.   

She walks to the counter where she spots a post-it note with a Neil’s familiar scrawl on it.   

Sorry, kid. Had to leave for work. See you in the afternoon. <3    

She smiled and shook her head before going to get ready for the day.   

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“Hi, ma’am, do you have a reservation?” The waiter asked as he saw (Y/N) come in.   

“Uh- I’m supposed to meet someone here?” (Y/N) tells the waiter, nervously wringing her hands together.   

“Their name?” The waiter pulls out a tablet ready to type in the name.   

“Cillian Murphy?” She watches as the waiter looks up at her with recognition on his face and immediately puts down the tablet. 

“Of course, Miss (Y/N), follow me please.” The waiter guides a dumbstruck (Y/N) through the royal and very expensive looking furniture of the restaurant.   

“Here you are, enjoy your night,” The waiter says before leaving (Y/N) in front of a door leading to a private booth.   

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“Hey! Cillian, are you coming to the bar?” Paul asks Cillian as they wrap up the set for the day.  

“Not today, Paul. I have to go somewhere.” Cillian smiles and leaves before anyone else could ask any more questions.   

He was beyond relieved when (Y/N) agreed to talk to him because he was about 100% certain that she hated him. He wanted to show her that she was appreciated and that he cared. So, he decided to take her to his favourite restaurant.   

As he sat in the booth he booked, waiting for (Y/N), he was getting more and more nervous. He didn’t know if it was because of his fear of rejection or if he liked her. Probably the former, right? I mean, I don’t even know her. He thought to himself.   

Cillian looked at his watch at the same moment the door handle turned making him snap his head towards it. He felt as if his brain wasn’t working in that moment as he saw (Y/N) peeking her head in and then walk forwards. She looked beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.   

“Um, hey.” (Y/N) sat in the chair opposite him and gave him a small smile.   

“What?” Cillian asked, broken out of his reverie by her sweet voice.  

“I said, hey.” She giggled and shook her head.  

“Oh yeah, hi.” The sight of her laughing brought a smile to his face.   

“So, this place is really nice.” (Y/N) gestured around to the restaurant.   

“Yeah, one of my favourites,” Cillian said, unable to take his eyes off her.   

As the night went on, Cillian and (Y/N) talked about anything and everything, getting to know each other better. One thing they both realised very early on in the conversation, was that they were both falling for each other.   

Falling very hard, indeed.

A/N: Should I make a part 3?

[sociallyawkward--fics]

Last Christmas

Here it is, lol. The fic I wrote last night with Wham!’s “Last Christmas” on repeat for literally Three Hours Straight lol. It is entirely unedited except for me having a friend read it over briefly and them go “you’re missing a period here” and nothing else lol. Please be kind though, I have not written for months and any Christmas fics I’m posting are more just warm-ups to get me back to the level of writing I was before I accidentally took a break, cuz no way I’m jumping back into my Big Projects without getting myself back up to par lol

ALSO, I know Jaskier seems like,,, really aggressive towards Yen in this fic. She's not meant to be a villain! Jaskier just is jealous and sad so he takes it out on her a little bit, which is definitely not the right thing to do but I think it's a very human thing to do. After this I imagine them going for coffee or smth and just lovingly trash-talking Geralt and realizing "wow we can actually be decent friends" lol

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Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types; Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game); The Witcher (TV); Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski

Relationship: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion

Characters: Jaskier | Dandelion; Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg; Triss Merigold; Zoltan Chivay; Iorveth (The Witcher); Eskel (The Witcher); Vernon Roche

Additional Tags: eskel triss iorveth and roche are barely-there btw; Jealous Jaskier | Dandelion; Mistletoe; Getting Together; Misunderstandings; Miscommunication; Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg; Alcohol; Drinking; Smoking; (very briefly) - Freeform; Communication; Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings; Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia; Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia; Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings; Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion; Mutual Pining; Kissing; Hugs; Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers; Alternate Universe - No Powers; Holidays; Christmas; Christmas Party

Word Count: 3614 words

[ao3 link]

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It took an embarrassing amount of time for Jaskier to work up the courage to leave his car. Instead he sat there, heat off and car growing increasingly frosty, forehead against the steering wheel as he bemoaned his own very existence. He did not want to go to this party, which was very out of character for him.

But Jaskier couldn’t take another repeat of last year’s holiday party. And he knew the second he saw Geralt, he would be back there again.

They had both been decently tipsy, which was their first mistake, but Jaskier knew that neither of them were drunk. That’s why he had been so shocked when Geralt made the first move, pressing him up against the wall to the men’s room and ravishing his mouth. They’d gone home together to Jaskier’s flat and had a wonderful night together, but Geralt had been gone come morning.

They never spoke of that night. And by the next week, Geralt had been back in his on-again, off-again relationship with Yennefer.

Jaskier thought he’d gotten over it. As much as he didn’t regret it, it was clear that Geralt did, and he wasn’t going to push his feelings onto the man when they were so clearly unwanted. It was a miracle their friendship survived it, with how testy they had been with each other for weeks afterward.

Jaskier took a deep breath and tightened his scarf around his neck, finally leaving his car to make his way into the hotel ballroom that Foltest had booked for the night. At least their work holiday parties weren’t held in the offices, Jaskier wouldn’t have been able to force himself back to work after last year if they were.

Jaskier’s traitorous eyes immediately sought out Geralt the moment he walked in. He wasn’t hard to find, with his striking silver hair and refusal to wear anything but black. He stuck out like a sore thumb, in the sea of red and green and gold. But god, did he look good. Unfortunately, he was already occupied with the only other person in the room who refused to wear color: Yennefer. 

Jaskier forced his eyes away, directing them instead towards the makeshift bar. Zoltan was already there, and, judging by the red on his cheeks, already several drinks in. Jaskier couldn’t exactly judge. He was going to need quite a few drinks to get through this night as well.

“Good old Dandelion!” Zoltan crowed as he approached, words only slightly slurred.

“Zoltan,” Jaskier greeted with an easy smile, nodding at the bartender. “When are you ever going to give up on that silly nickname?”

Zoltan snorted. “You’re the one who calls himself a flower, Julian.”

Jaskier shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Soon enough, Jaskier had a drink in his hand and an earful of Zoltan’s voice, accent only growing thicker and harder to understand the drunker he got. He was barely following what Zoltan was talking about, anymore. Something about his ex father-in-law’s business tanking? He seemed rather pleased by it, in any case. Jaskier probably would be to, if he wasn’t still so anxious.

“What’s got a stick up yer ass?” Zoltan asked after a while, winding down from his latest story.

“Just… not in a partying mood, I suppose.”

Zoltan laughed uproariously. “You? Not in a party mood? Never thought I’d see the day!”

Jaskier gave a half-hearted smile, knowing Zoltan was too far gone to notice that fact, and let his eyes wander the crowd. After a few drinks, he was beginning to feel pleasantly tipsy. The idea of lasting out the party was actually beginning to feel manageable, though he still felt like giving Yennefer and Geralt a wide berth. They always exploded at these things, and Jaskier didn’t want to be caught in the middle of that.

Again.

That was one fight their friendship almost hadn’t survived, and it was the worst six months of Jaskier’s life. And that was including the past twelve months after the last holiday party.

“Come on, Dandelion,” Zoltan said, and Jaskier’s attention was drawn back to the bar. “Sit down for a game of cards with me! Or perhaps a round of dice?”

Jaskier laughed, his first true laugh of the night. “I know better than to gamble with you, old friend. It’s about time I mingled, don’t you think? Give the masses what they desire.”

Zoltan laughed again and gave him a sloppy wink. “Go get ‘em, tomcat. I’ll find some other poor fool to swindle.”

Jaskier grinned. “I don’t doubt it.”

Jaskier slipped away from the bar and into the crowd. He greeted people with hugs and kisses on the cheek, making them laugh and shove him away with teasing grins. He twirled between groups of people in a carefully perfected dance, muscle memory even with the alcohol in his system.

Unfortunately, that muscle memory rather quickly led him to Geralt’s current circle of companions. Yennefer and Triss were there, clearly making an intense effort to not be at each other’s throats. Eskel was there, which wasn’t surprising: as much as a sweetheart as he was, Eskel’s social skills definitely needed some development, and he tended to use Jaskier and Geralt as a social crutch (despite the fact that his brother was even worse with people than he was). Iorveth and Vernon Roche were on opposite sides of the little circle the group had formed, and Jaskier dreaded that disaster waiting to happen.

Really, how did Geralt attract such dramatic people to him so easily?

Despite how suddenly off-kilter Jaskier felt being so close to Geralt, last year flashing through his mind, he knew he couldn’t show it. Geralt would notice, and then it would be awkward for them both, and Jaskier would never forgive himself for ruining Geralt’s Christmas two years in a row.

So he flitted around the group, being his charming self. His smile felt forced as he gave Iorveth and Roche (very awkward) one-armed hugs. His stomach churned as he kissed Triss on the cheek. His balance felt off as he waltzed into Eskel’s arms for one of his patented bear hugs (though that was likely the alcohol, now that he thought about it).

“How is it that you’re already drunk, Jaskier?” Geralt said as Jaskier pulled out of Eskel’s arms.

Jaskier shot him a cheeky grin. “Not drunk, my dear--friend. My dear friend. Merely tipsy.”

“With a stutter like that forming?” Yennefer teased, holding out her hand.

Jaskier indulged her dramatics and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, chest burning white hot all the while. His smile was probably slightly too-sharp when he stood back up again, but he couldn’t be bothered to fix it.

“The heavier side of tipsy, perhaps,” Jaskier replied, smoothly sliding in beside Geralt to drape himself over Geralt’s shoulders.

A chorus of titters and chuckles went through the circle and Jaskier furrowed his brow. He rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair, searching for imperfections but finding none. He then looked toward Geralt for an explanation, but the poor man looked just as confused as Jaskier was.

“Aren’t you wondering why none of us were standing all that close to Geralt?” Triss asked, that coy smile Jaskier was all-too-familiar with making its way onto her lips.

And now that she mentioned that, it was odd. Yennefer was usually glued to Geralt’s other side, and Triss was almost always trying to butt her way in. Her jealousy tended to be a great deal more obvious than Jaskier’s, deliberately trying to provoke the two of them. Jaskier simply got drunk and wrote songs about unrequited love, he knew better than to try and put himself between them.

Roche rolled his eyes as Jaskier and Geralt still just stared at the group rather dumbly. He pointed upwards and their eyes followed his finger.

Geralt, very unfortunately, was halfway into a doorway. Taped to the top of the frame of said doorway was a little sprig of green. Jaskier felt his heart stop. He had to swallow to keep the bile from rising up in his throat. He pulled away from where he was leaning on Geralt. The group was still laughing and teasing good-naturedly, but Jaskier felt like his world was crashing down around him. He looked toward Eskel for help, being the kindest of the group.

Only Eskel just shrugged with a grin. “It is tradition.”

“Oh come on, now,” Yennefer said, her voice twisting around Jaskier’s throat like a noose. “We’re all adults here. Just get it over with.”

Jaskier slowly met Geralt’s eyes. He was impossible to read, even moreso than normal, and Jaskier felt that familiar pit open up in his stomach. He needed to get this over with and then smoothly make his escape. Perhaps claim he’d had more to drink than he thought and needed to call a cab.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked quietly, barely more than a whisper.

Jaskier gave him a small smile and leaned forward. He pressed a feather-light kiss to the scruff of Geralt’s cheek before pulling away, his heart not able to take much more than that.

Jaskier couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes as he walked away.

Jaskier’s kiss was a barely-there peck to the cheek. Before Geralt could even hope to respond, he was gone.

The group’s teasing had quieted down, and Geralt dared to look up. Iorveth and Roche seemed confused, not close enough to the rest of the group to be caught up on the drama. Eskel seemed torn between beating himself up and beating Geralt up. Triss seemed guilty.

And Yennefer was just smug.

Geralt found himself grinding his teeth. Of course she was behind this (though it was clear that Triss had some hand in it, as well). Their most recent breakup, for once, had been amicable. The past few years had been hell for them, trying to make their relationship work even though they both knew it was never going anywhere. Jaskier was Yennefer’s last straw.

Geralt was more horrified that Yennefer had so easily picked up on his feelings for Jaskier than hurt by the breakup. If she had picked up on them, then surely Jaskier had?

Is that what that hauntingly sad smile Jaskier gave him before he kissed him was for? Did Jaskier pity him? Was he trying to let Geralt down easy?

“Go after him,” she said simply.

“Yen, this isn’t one of your games--”

“No,” she replied, voice suddenly terse. “So stop treating it like one and act like an adult, Geralt. I think we’ve all had quite enough of you two being like this, and it only got worse after last year’s party.”

“Which you still won’t talk about,” Triss chimed in, raising an eyebrow.

“So go talk to him.”

Geralt resisted the urge to growl. “Fine.”

Jaskier wasn’t hard to find, when you knew him as well as Geralt did. He liked to be high up when he was upset, saying it made him feel like he was getting some perspective on his problems. Geralt liked to joke that it was because he was more at home with his head in the clouds.

Jaskier was on a balcony overlooking the city, a pack of cigarettes sitting on the railing. A lit one rested between his fingers, the smoke curling into the air and entwining with the condensation trailing from his lips thanks to the cold air.

“I thought you quit,” Geralt said quietly.

Jaskier turned his head, not far enough to face Geralt but far enough to let Geralt see the wry half smile on his lips.

“You know how the holidays are,” Jaskier replied, taking a long drag from his cigarette and turning back to the cityscape.

Geralt moved forward to lean against the railing next to him, letting out a heavy sigh and watching the white vapor twist into the air. He didn’t know how to have this conversation. Between the two of them, Jaskier was by far the more emotionally intelligent one. With him shutting down like this, Geralt didn’t know what to say.

“Are you… okay?”

Jaskier snorted. “Yeah, Geralt. I’m great.”

Geralt considered the words for a few moments, turning around the tone of voice in his head. “Sarcasm,” he decided. 

It was much easier to decipher when he himself was using it, rather than try to pick out when others were.

Jaskier sighed, hanging his head. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Geralt shook his head. “What’s going on?”

Jaskier took another drag of his cigarette. “Nothing, Geralt. Don’t worry about it.”

Geralt let out a frustrated growl, not sure how else to express himself in the moment. He snatched the pack of cigarettes off the railing (breathing out a sigh of relief when only one was missing -- the one between Jaskier’s fingers) and ripped the lit one out of Jaskier’s hand, tossing both items over the edge of the balcony.

“What the fuck, Geralt?!”

Geralt stared at him. “You told me last time you quit to not let you start up again.”

Jaskier groaned and put his head into his hands. “Shit. I did, didn’t I?”

Geralt hummed an affirmative.

“Aside from saving my lungs, was there something you needed, Geralt?”

Geralt leaned back against the railing, clasping his hands together. “To know what’s had you acting so weird all night.”

He felt Jaskier’s eyes on him, could see him staring out of his peripheral, but Geralt kept his eyes on the lights of the city. With all the light pollution, it was probably as close to stars as they would get without driving out to the mountains.

“You really want to know?” Jaskier asked eventually, his voice low.

“Yes.”

“Tonight I was pressured into kissing the man that broke my heart, about a year ago now.”

Geralt flinched back, finally looking over toward Jaskier. Jaskier was still staring at him, his blue eyes almost seeming to glow in the dark of the balcony.

“Who--Who broke--”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow, face remaining impassive.

Geralt hesitated. “I broke your heart?”

Jaskier sighed and turned away, looking toward the horizon. “Last holiday party, we went home together. We made love for hours. I told you I cared for you deeply. And when I woke up, you were gone.”

Geralt wanted to say something, wanted to defend himself, but his voice felt like it was glued in his throat, unable to escape.

“Barely any time had passed before you were back in Yennefer’s pocket, not a thought given to us. And we never talked about it.”

Geralt swallowed. “I didn’t realize--”

Jaskier threw his hands up in the air, a frustrated laugh escaping his lips. Geralt’s frown deepened when he saw Jaskier’s eyes glistening.

“Didn’t realize what, Geralt? I thought I was being pretty obvious about the fact that I’m in love with you!”

“Yennefer and I broke up,” Geralt said, deciding to tackle the topic he knew how to talk about first.

Jaskier snorted, leaning his back against the railing and crossing his arms. “What else is new?”

Geralt shook his head. “For good, this time.”

Jaskier only stared at him. Geralt huffed out a breath as he searched for his words, running a hand through his hair.

“You know how… Sometimes, you can have a great friendship with each other, but when you try to date you end up being really toxic and horrible to each other? That’s me and Yen.”

“Could’ve told you that three years ago. Oh wait, I did.”

Geralt sighed. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t listen, Jask. I just… I wanted it to work so bad, we both did. Even though we knew it never would.”

Jaskier looked down at his feet. “I know. I’m sorry for snapping like that.”

“It’s okay.”

Jaskier looked back up at him. “So what was the final nail in the coffin? What sealed the deal for you two?”

Geralt looked away, choosing a specific building to look at and staring at it intensely. His fingers itched to fiddle with something, but he forced them to stay still, clenching the freezing metal of the railing.

“I love Yen. But she and I both realized that I would never love her as much as I loved you.”

The silence stretched on for far too long and Geralt could feel his skin prickling with anxiety. His throat felt like it had swollen shut, making it difficult to breathe and impossible to get any words out. He wanted to look at Jaskier, see his reaction, but his body was locked in place.

“And if you love me so much, Geralt,” Jaskier said, his voice even more icy than the balcony railing leeching the warmth from his fingers, “why did you leave me?”

Geralt gave into the urge to fidget, reaching up for the pendant on his chest. His fingers were clumsy and numb from the cold, making him fumble, but the action was still soothing.

“I didn’t realize you meant it. Jaskier, you flirt with everyone. You’ve probably slept with half the company, and while I don’t judge you for that, I couldn’t help but feel like I was just the next notch in your bedpost.”

Jaskier dropped his face into his hands. “God, Geralt, I only slept with most of those people to try and get over you. You had Yennefer, and I was just me. I knew you would never choose me over her.”

“I am now.”

Jaskier stayed silent for a moment. “And if I decide that it’s too late?”

There was an uncomfortable burning feeling behind Geralt’s eyes and he did his best to push it back down. 

“Then I would respect your decision, and hope we could still be friends come tomorrow. I don’t want to lose you, Jask.”

Jaskier didn’t reply.

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long. I’m sorry I was so blind to your feelings.”

“And say we did do this,” Jaskier said, his voice still guarded. “What about Yennefer?”

Geralt shook his head. “There’s nothing left for me and Yen. We’re done hurting each other for a relationship that will never feel good.” Geralt couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips as he tacked on, “Plus, with the looks Triss has been shooting her, I don’t think Yennefer will be too lonely.”

Jaskier shot him an incredulous look. “Triss and Yennefer hate each other!”

Geralt chuckled. “Yeah, when I was involved. Yen can, quite frankly, be a jealous bitch, and Triss certainly wasn’t letting up on the flirting.”

Jaskier searched his face. “And Triss?”

“There was never going to be any me and Triss, and she knew that. Honestly, I think her flirting these days has been more to toy with Yen than to actually try and woo me.”

Jaskier turned his gaze toward the night sky, a muddy brown-black-orange that ruined any hope of seeing the stars “Huh.”

“They both know there’s only one person I’m looking to woo me, anyway.”

Geralt watched Jaskier break out in a goofy, giddy smile, clearly involuntarily based on the way he quickly bit his lip to try and suppress it. Slowly, carefully, Geralt reached out for one of Jaskier’s hands, tugging gently until his arms came unravelled.

“I’m so sorry, Jaskier.”

Jaskier shook his head. “I’m sorry, too. I should’ve said something.”

“Can I hug you?”

Jaskier’s goofy smile was back and Geralt felt his heart clench. He hoped to see that smile so much more.

“Only if I can kiss you,” Jaskier replied, bouncing on his toes a little.

Geralt grinned. “I find that an acceptable trade.”

Jaskier laughed then, pulling him into a tight hug. They stayed like that for a long while, sharing heat and just soaking in each other’s presence. Slowly starting to accept that this was real, that this was happening. Geralt clenched his hands tightly into Jaskier’s sweater.

And then, some long minutes later, they pulled back from the hug just enough to press their lips together. It was soft and chaste, but by no means short. Geralt decided that kissing Jaskier felt like coming home.

They slipped away after that, deciding not to head back to the party. Their friends would assume things, sure, but they didn’t care. They had lost time to make up for, they could make up for not saying goodbye later.

Geralt drove them home, back to Jaskier’s flat just like last year. Jaskier fiddled with the radio as the streets blurred around them, trying to find an appropriately-themed holiday station. He burst into cackles the second he found one.

“Tell me this is not Wham!,” Geralt begged.

Jaskier was laughing too hard to reply.

“I hate it,” Geralt said, despite being on the verge of laughter himself. “I hate it so much. Stop laughing, it’s not funny.”

“It’s so funny!” Jaskier wheezed, clutching his stomach as he doubled over in his seat.

Jaskier had only just barely calmed down by the time they got to his flat. They curled up on his ratty old couch with some hot chocolate and put on a Christmas movie, but it became more background noise than anything. 

Instead they talked. They talked about their past together and how it hurt them, and their future and how they would prevent that from hurting too. They talked until Geralt’s throat was sore and Jaskier was nodding off on his shoulder. Geralt couldn’t find the energy to carry him to bed, so he simply readjusted their position on the couch to be something more comfortable and settled in to sleep himself.

“L’ve ‘ou” Jaskier breathed out against his neck.

Geralt smiled, closing his eyes. “Love you too, Jaskier.

[blossomoranges]

Crossmarch and Mirai's Search For The Silver Fox

hi everyone! this was part of the @ikesennw‘s secret santa, written for @mitsushide from me. the fic focuses on her character, Mirai, facing her first Christmas in Azuchi posing as a princess of the Nakamura clan. in truth, she’s an undercover agent for the Crimson Lotus, an organisation of women looking to bring down the feudal warlords, and an all-around badass. also, local himbo Yukimura makes a cameo.

read her fabulous series beneath a night sky, vast & wide  for more context!

word count: 1550

pairing: hints of mirai/mitsuhide

Winter had come to Azuchi on swift wings, bringing a chill to the air and a coating of frost on the ground. But this year, the season was different. The Oda’s support of the Western traders had brought a new influx of foreigners to the gates of the town, and with them came stories of strange cultures and traditions. ‘Christmas’, as it came to be known, was a winter festival celebrated by many of these people - a time of feasting and gift giving and togetherness. Nobunaga Oda, with his endless fascination for anything new, had announced a holiday for the citizens of his provinces.

Mirai wasn’t sure what to think of all this. A day off for all the hard-working people of Azuchi was a step in the right direction, but it could just be one of Nobunaga’s passing fancies. There was no guarantee that this festival would become a tradition. Plus, she could barely pronounce the name. Christ-moss? Clip-mass? Whatever.

And just how was she meant to look for openings to rid the land of these warlords when the castle was flooded with people preparing for a banquet? 

Ever since she’d arrived in Owari under the Nakamura banner and the guise of a sickly princess, she’d made sure to document the routines of the six key warlords, but they’d seemingly scattered to the winds. Mirai had caught a glimpse of Masamune Date cooking up a storm in the kitchens, the door to Ieyasu Tokugawa’s office had been barred from the inside, and Mitsuhide Akechi… was nowhere to be found. According to Honoka, he’d last been seen heading out to the town centre. She can’t say that trying to track him down is a wise thing to do - princesses don’t usually go around tailing people. But the sheer volume of people stocking up on winter goods and preparing for this strange festival provided safety in numbers and a golden opportunity to see what the kitsune was getting up to.

So here she is, standing at the edge of a crowded marketplace, attempting to track a man who’d perfected his disappearing act and to blend in all the while. 

If she wasn’t so experienced, she would never be able to find him.  She cleared her mind and focused on the smells, sounds, and sights of the market, and kept pushing forward. Out of the corner of her eye, Mirai sees a swirl of teal and ivory. The chase is on.

He’s a worthy opponent. Mitsuhide ducks, dodges, and weaves through the town with the grace of a heron, while Mirai follows in his tread, slinking just out of sight. She can’t survey him from the rooftops (damn these unwieldy kimono skirts), so she darts into one of the many alleyways to stay out of sight. Their pattern of fox and mouse holds, right until the kitsune stops in his tracks at the very edges of the market, turning to examine a stall surrounded by trinkets and charms. Mirai is a tad surprised - he didn’t seem the type to enjoy frivolity, or anything uninvolved with torture for that matter.

His exchange with the shopkeeper lasts mere moments before he’s off again, out of sight and drifting away like a spirit with questionable taste in clothes. Thus comes an end to her fruitless chase. She needs to head back to the castle soon, anyway. After he had overcome his initial animosity, Hideyoshi seemed convinced that Mirai might drop dead from a cold as soon as the sun sank below the horizon. There was a slim chance he’d be too busy to notice her disappearance, preparing for the banquet and worshipping the ground Nobunaga walked upon, but it wouldn’t do to be questioned. 

The road back to the castle gates was so much more boring without a target to prey upon. The crowds had dissipated a bit as it neared sundown, though some citizens milled about, browsing and discussing the coming winter. The winds were even more chilly, but she kept a measured pace.

There was something glinting in the last rays of the day. Mirai inclined her head towards the source, a blanket laid out with accessories much like the ones that had caught Mitsuhide’s attention. She was in no rush to return to the castle - regardless of the festivities, it was just another night of endless posturing and waiting for openings to strike. Looking at pretty things might suit her disguise. 

She crouched to examine the wares, her eyes drifting over the kanzashi, hairpins, and obi charms. Aha! There was the culprit. A group of silver animals hung upon cords were caught in the light and a tiny fox curled up against its tail rocked gently at the forefront.

“You gonna buy anything? I’m about to close up,” came a rough, unrefined voice. 

Mirai barely spared a glance for the man before responding in a cool tone. 

“I am just admiring your wares, sir.” 

“Well, admire them quicker! I’ve been busy all day with this… Crossmarch nonsense the Oda are putting on. I swear, all you girls are like this.”

He must have been blessed by the gods, because if Mirai didn’t want to blow her cover, she’d have attacked by now. Her newfound acquaintance was dressed head-to-toe in scarlet and his head, clearly empty, was crowned by a mop of brown hair. He also seemed to be the world’s worst spy - six golden coins were emblazoned on his chest, marking him as one of the Sanada. She grasped for the little fox she’d been examining, tucked it into her pouch, and chucked a few coins onto the blanket. Not the best use of Rui’s funds, but needs must when playing a princess.

“Good night, merchant. You may want to use those funds to buy a new kimono. One that’s less conspicuous.”

She glided away from the blanket, taking careful steps, only half-listening to the spluttered retorts of the merchant-warrior. 

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The moon peeks out from behind the heavy clouds to cast her light over the courtyard, lighting it up in splendour, and Azuchi’s newest princess watches in turn. She had broken out in shivers from the frigid air long ago, but the stillness provided a balm for her mind. The banquet had been so loud. The further away she was from crowds of rowdy men, the better - at least Mirai can be herself here under the moon’s watchful gaze. 

The day wasn’t entirely a loss: she’d learnt the layout of the town, confirmed the presence of enemy forces, and managed to find a fox - just not the one she’d set out to catch. Her charm was threaded onto her obi cord, but Mitsuhide was still shrouded in mystery. 

With his wit, guile, and access to information, Japan could be his. So what was his motivation for following a distasteful man like Nobunaga?

The moon slips away at the same moment she feels that something, or someone, lurking in the dark behind her. She’ll have to feign surprise if the presence behind her decides to declare itself, but her thoughts race - everyone has the same primal response to shapeless beings in the dark. Kaede’s words echo across time in her thoughts.

‘You are a warrior, but don’t forget the frightened girl that you were. Your past exists within you, dear Mirai. Use that fear to spur on the strength that will always rest in you.’

The words bring a pang to her heart, but she cannot say whether it is fear or pain or grief. She forces herself to breathe.

“Hello, little mouse.”

She casts an upward glance at the voice’s source. With his white robes shrouded in the pale moonlight, the man could pass for a ghost.

“Good evening, Lord Akechi.”

“Oh, do call me Mitsuhide.” His crescent moon smile is wickedly sharp.

“Mitsuhide, then.”

They remain in silence for a few moments.

“Why is our darling princess out here? You’re missing all the festivities.”

“I prefer quieter company. Everyone in the banquet hall is awfully loud for my tastes.”

“I see. You must be tired from your excursion into town, as well. Such a busy day,” he tuts.

Had he spotted her trailing after him? No matter. There was a challenge in his voice and she would not rise to it. 

“I haven’t had much chance to explore. I had missed seeing new places and people, after being ill for so long.” 

“No need to defend yourself, little mouse. I merely noticed your fetching new charm.” He gestured to the sleeping fox in the centre of her obi.

The kitsune brought something out of his robes and set it beside her, as his other hand rested upon her head. It was a battle for Mirai to resist raising her hackles at him.

“A Christmas present for you. I heard you like this particular bird. Good night, little princess.”

Then Mitsuhide was gone, disappearing down the corridor and leaving silence in his wake. 

The only trace he had left was a bronze statue that fit neatly in her palm. A little quail. Was this a trick or some bizarre act of kindness, or did he really just like seeing her puzzled expression? The mystery surrounding him had grown. Mirai hoped she would get her answers soon, but they would not come on Christmas night.

[ibelongtonegan]

Triple Play (Negan/Reader/Simon one-shot)

This fic was originally intended to be my entry for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash​​’s birthday challenge ages ago, but then life and a moody muse turned it into a forever WIP. And yet I just could not get story idea out of my head and did not stop until it was completed.

My prompt was “Technology – Walkie Talkies”.

Summary: some secrets are better left untold…or are they?

Characters: Negan x Reader x Simon

Word count: 5,616

Warnings: angst, dirty talk, smut, swearing

Tags (tagging my forevers and those who expressed interest in this fic at some point): @negans-network​, @i-am-negan-trash​, @emoryhemsworth​, @ridingmoxley​, @ladysyn, @sleepylunarwolf​, @letsby​, @tatertotandcassie​, @annablack1102​, @genevievedarcygranger​, @daisysouthmoore​, @hughxjackman​, @ofxallxwexlost​, @negans-wife​

I appreciate feedback and most days don’t bite. So don’t be shy to comment, message or ask me anything!

“Okay, Y/N, your turn. Dwight, Negan, Simon,” Laura chirped, her voice hissing with static. 

Your lips curled up into a wide grin as you raised the radio to your mouth.

“Fuck Negan, marry Simon, kill Dwight.”

“Damn, girl. That was quick!” Arat’s laugh echoed through the speaker. “You could have at least pretended to think about it for a minute.”

The Virginia sun was beating down with all its might as you made your way through the field in the knee-high grass. You retrieved the water bottle from your backpack, but the few gulps of lukewarm water did little to wet your parched throat.

Negan had sent out a search party for two workers who were stupid enough to break into the storage room and steal various supplies, but not smart enough to take a car to make their escape. It was just a question of time before they were captured, but you hoped it was going to happen before dinner. It was Friday, and tonight’s menu was going to be mac ‘n cheese. A hot meal and a cold shower, you craved nothing more. 

You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand while scanning the tree line for movement, but everything looked peaceful. Despite a badly decomposed walker that stumbled out of the forest about an hour ago, the search was uneventful. To kill time, Arat proposed to play ‘Fuck, marry, kill’ on the back-up channel, which she swore was safe from prying ears since nobody ever used it.

“Poor D, why would you hurt him?”

Laura could not hide the reproach in her tone. She had had a crush on Dwight since forever but didn’t dare to make a move on him, not even months after Sherry had married Negan.

“He’s a good dude, but not my type, sorry, not sorry.”

“Okay, what about Simon?” Arat chimed in. “I didn’t think you were the marrying type.”

The chorus of cicadas fell silent in the background as the transmission ended.

“I’m not, but I can’t fuck him too if I marry Negan.”

“Wait...what?”

An amused smile spread on your lips at the frantic reaction.

“Well, you know the rules. If you marry Negan, you can’t be with anybody else but him, right? But what if I want to fuck both him and Simon? The only way is to marry Simon and cheat on him with Negan. Or better yet, to coax them into a threesome.”

“Okay, I get Simon. He’s funny, has a killer swagger and that moustache must feel like heaven on your pussy,” Laura pondered. “But Negan…I mean, he’s hot, but also volatile, dangerous, and rough. He must be an animal in bed. I bet even his cum-face is scary.”

“I choose to accept the mission and find out for your peace of mind. I think he made Sherry come at least three times last night. Lucky bitch,” you sighed with envy recalling the sinful noises you overheard from Negan’s room.

“Then why don’t you volunteer to become a wife?”

“I worked my ass off to become a Savior, and will not give it up to sit around in the wives’ lounge, eat candy and paint my nails all day. I’d rather keep my job and fantasize about Negan and Simon while rubbing one out at night.”

The conversation was interrupted by your radio emitting a long beep, pulling you back to reality and the task at hand. You stopped in your tracks and switched to the primary channel.

“The search is over, we have the sorry shits in custody,” you heard Negan’s gravelly voice announce, his patience evidently worn thin. “Everybody get the fuck back to base now!”

You felt a pang of sorrow for the escapees. They were no doubt going to receive a painfully thorough ironing after dinner.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

An hour and a shower later you were on your way to the canteen with Arat and Laura in tow. The scent of melted cheese and spices filling the corridors made saliva pool in your mouth.

You devoured the plate of pasta within minutes and chugged two glasses of water to quench your thirst after the savoury meal. Feeling full and sleepy, you rested your chin in your palm, while Arat and Laura engaged in a heated debate over which of the newbie Saviors they wanted to fuck, marry and kill respectively. 

“Evening, ladies,” Simon stopped by your table, his hands resting on his hips. After giving the two girls a quick nod, his eyes settled on you. “He wants to see you, Y/N, in his room.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. Negan didn’t summon anyone but his wives at such a late hour and he had never asked to see you in his room before.

“Something wrong?”

“Everything’s A-Okay. The boss man just wants to have a word with you in private. Let’s not keep him waiting,” Simon gestured towards the door, his usual smirk never faltering.

You stood up from the table and gave Arat and Laura a wink before following Simon out of the canteen.

“I thought he was going to punish the escapees after dinner,” you stated rather than asked while trying to keep up with Simon’s long strides.

“Tomorrow,” he muttered under his breath. “There’s another matter he wants to deal with tonight.”

His curt response caught you off-guard, but you attributed it to him being hungry, since you had not seen him at dinner earlier.

Simon led you to the top floor and stopped before a large mahogany double door. Knocking twice, he turned the knob without waiting for an answer, and motioned for you to step inside.

Negan’s quarters looked nothing like other parts of the Sanctuary. It felt like entering the suite of a five-star hotel and you couldn’t stop looking around in amazement. The room was lavishly furnished with furniture and accessories from an expensive interior design store the Saviors had looted on your first run. There was a giant four poster bed to your left, decorated with grey, satin bedsheets and neatly arranged pillows, and to your right a comfortable black leather couch with two matching armchairs surrounding a coffee table. A bar area was set up in the corner complete with leather stools and a selection of spirits. The private bathroom was hidden behind a black door on the opposite wall, but you imagined it to be just as extravagant. Negan had a taste for the finer things in life, like beautiful women, good food and his luxurious apartment was no exception. Your room looked like a mouse hole in comparison.

Negan was sitting behind his desk, several papers splayed out before him next to a tumbler filled with amber liquid. His leather jacket was draped over the back of his seat, but his signature red scarf was still draped around his neck. The soft glow of the desk lamp cast an eerie light on his face. He looked up from the ledger in his hand and beckoned you closer, pointing at the chair in front of him.

Simon strode over to the couch behind you and plopped down, the leather squeaking under his weight. You were surprised to see him stay, but Negan didn’t seem to mind his number two’s presence in the room. He took a small sip of his drink and leaned back in the armchair, studying you with an unreadable expression.

Negan had always treated you fairly, appreciating your scavenging skills and rewarding your hard work. You climbed the imaginary career ladder at the community from common worker to lieutenant thanks to your tenacity, courage and ability to handle Negan’s short temper and crude humour. Along with Arat and Simon you were one of his most trusted soldiers, carrying out his orders and accompanying him on runs. You had been infatuated with him from the start and often found your eyes lingering on your formidable leader, but seemingly he had never expressed an interest in you.    

With Simon your attraction began on your first run to Alexandria, when you were assigned to ride in the same truck and hit it off right away during the long journey. Simon was funny, smart and cute in a rugged way, and soon the two men occupied your dreams, with the three of you ending up having hot, messy sex on every vertical and horizontal surface imaginable. Yet, you did your best to act professionally around them, not letting your secret obsession interfere with your work.

“Something you wanna tell me?” Negan jolted you from your thoughts. “Anything you’d like to confess?”

“I’m not a religious person, sorry,” you pursed your lips to suppress a smile.

Simon snickered behind you, but Negan seemed unfazed by your cheekiness. He swirled his whisky a few times, his touch leaving random marks on the foggy surface of the glass.

“Okay, forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I took an extra serving of the apple pie at dinner last night. It was too delicious to resist.”

Negan narrowed his eyes at you and stroked his chin, his gloved fingers scraping his salt-and-pepper stubble.

“Or if this is about the crime novel I haven’t returned to the library, I know it’s almost a month overdue, but I still have two chapters left and want to know who the killer is.”

You heard the sound before your eyes could register the motion as Negan slammed down his glass on the desk. You expected it to shatter into a million pieces, but the tumbler miraculously survived the impact, the ice cubes clinking against each other in protest.

“Careful, Y/N. You don’t wanna test my patience.” 

You gulped hard, feeling an uneasy chill go down your spine. Negan was usually up for jokes, but he was evidently not in the mood for them now, and you could not shake off the thought that you were the reason for it.

He stood up and keeping his gaze fixed on you rounded the desk before leaning against it, resting his hands on the edge. His crotch was level with your eyes, and you straightened up in your seat to avoid having to look at the impressive package in his pants.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you opted for honesty.

Negan pushed himself away from the desk and started circling you. His looming presence behind you made the hair stand up on your back, but you fought the urge to turn around.

“I don’t take lightly to my Saviors keeping secrets from me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you asserted but regretted it immediately when Negan’s face appeared in your peripheral vision.

“Bullshit!” he snarled against your ear. “What about that little girl talk over the radio this afternoon?”

His words made the blood drain from your face. Closing your eyes, you wished the ground would miraculously open and swallow you up.

“Imagine my surprise when during today’s run, I heard one of my top gals confess over the back-up channel that she was fantasizing about me and my right-hand man while rubbing one out at night.”

If the blood had gone from your face before, it now rushed right back up as you felt your cheeks grow hot.

“That shit made me very, very disappointed.”

Negan stepped back in front of you, and crossing his ankles leaned against the desk. The intensity of his stare made your heart sink. You tried to guess how much of your radio conversation with Arat and Laura he could have heard. If luck was on your side, he only caught the last part. If not...

…you didn’t even want to go there.

“We were just…joking. A silly chat between us girls to pass the time,” you shrugged, feeling perspiration bead on your forehead. 

Negan studied your face intently weighing your words.

“What do you make of this, Simon?”

“She’s lying, boss,” came the merry retort from the couch.

You head snapped around in protest but Negan grabbed your chin with his gloved hand, forcing you to look at him.

“I think you’re right,” he mused in a sing-song voice, his face so close that you could smell his body wash and the faint trace of whiskey on his breath. ”Get over here and give me a hand, will you?”

You heard Simon’s heavy boots cross the room and stop behind you. Negan gave him a knowing look and before you knew it, your arms were yanked back, and held firmly behind the chair.

“Where were we, doll?” Negan let go of your chin and crouched down in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. “Oh, yes. You fantasizing about me and Simon nailing you.”

He licked his lips slowly and your eyes followed the motion instinctively.

“What’s the matter, Y/N? Cat got your tongue? You were very talkative over the radio earlier,” Negan taunted sardonically.

You closed your legs to put some distance between your bodies, but Negan squeezed your thighs in warning and forced them further apart.

“Tell me what you thought about last night.”

You squirmed in your seat, Negan’s command ringing in your ears in the deafening silence that followed.

“You said that you were listening to me fucking Sherry. What did you think about to get off?”

Your eyes went wide like saucers and you desperately tried to come up with a plausible excuse, but your mind went completely blank. Sharing a kinky fantasy over the radio with your best friends was one thing. But confessing it face to face to the very subjects of it?

“Careful, Y/N,” Negan warned sensing your stalling, his mouth tightening into a thin line. “I want the truth on this one.”

You went limp in Simon’s grip with an exasperated sigh. As much as you hated to admit defeat, they cornered you. You held your head up high and gave Negan a defiant look. If he wanted to hear the truth, you were going to tell him just that, consequences be damned.

“We were in the meeting room, at the usual Monday briefing for the lieutenants. I disagreed with your order, and we got into an argument over it. I knew that I was pushing your buttons but the more riled up you got, the more it turned me on.”

Negan looked at you with a faint smirk, as if the same idea had crossed his mind before.

“You decided that if I was bold enough to backtalk in front of your men, then I would also be punished in front of them. Simon pinned me down on the meeting table, and the two of you took turns having your way with me.”

Negan’s pupils dilated, the primal reaction urging you to continue.

“All the lieutenants were watching us with hunger and envy that they could only look, but not touch or taste me. I was completely exposed and at your mercy, and yet felt safe and in control of the situation, because that was exactly what I wanted. To be taken, dominated, marked and used for your pleasure. You kept teasing me, edging me, until I was a begging mess. And in the end, you came inside me, breeding me.”

Negan tsked with a shake of his head.

“And you were hiding all of this from me? Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But don’t worry, we will rectify the situation right now.”

Your heart dropped as the meaning of his words sank in. This was it. You were going to be demoted, lose your friends, the respect of the Saviors and could never go near Negan and Simon again. Or they would kick you out of the Sanctuary even. And all of this because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Now you knew why the ironing of the escapees had been postponed. Negan had deemed your punishment more urgent.

“You wanna pay close attention to this, because I’m only going to say it once. Hearing your dirty little confession over the radio made me and Simon hard as steel. So we decided to make your wish come true.”

You blinked twice, expecting to wake up from what seemed to be the weirdest dream you had ever had. You were never going to stuff yourself full of food before bed again.

“But I have two conditions. Are you with me, doll?”

You nodded weakly as Negan’s fingers drew a zigzag pattern on your jeans.

“One: as much as the thought of fucking you in front of my men is tickling my balls, I am not letting those fuckers lay their eyes on you. It’s going to be just you, me and Simon.”

The offer sounded more than fair to you.

"Two: you know well I don’t share my gals with anyone, except for when I have a moresome with my wives, and I only allow them to fuck each other because I get to watch. What’s mine is mine.”

Your breath hitched as he moved his hands further up, the tip of his fingers skimming the apex of your thighs.

“But since your fantasy involved my right-hand man as well, I’m willing to bend the rules just this once.”

Heat pooled in your belly as you watched him, mesmerized by his usually hazel eyes darkening to dark chocolate.

“So, tonight I get exclusive membership at your pussy bar, no exceptions. You will be my little breeding bitch only,” he stroked your clothed centre, eliciting a pathetic whine from you. “As for other parts of your body, sharing is caring.” Negan looked up at Simon flashing his pearly whites, before his eyes settled back on you.

You stared at him at a loss for words. One part of you was cheering you on to seize the opportunity and accept the indecent proposal, while the other was adamant that you were going to wake up any minute. Negan lifted his gloved hand to your cheek and traced your lower lip, expecting an answer. You let your body do the talking and opened your mouth to run your tongue over his thumb, tracing a shiny path on the black leather. If this was indeed just a dream, you were going to make sure it would be a wet one. 

“Damn, Simon, I knew she was going to be trouble from the moment we met her,” Negan drawled, his eyes heavy with desire.

Grabbing the back of your head he pulled you up and claimed your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth possessively. Simon pushed the chair out of the way and pressed himself into your back trapping your body between him and Negan. Even through two layers of clothing you could feel the outline of his hard-on, earning a low moan from you.

“Easy, Simon,” Negan grinned wickedly, sucking and nibbling on your neck. “We don’t want her to cum just yet.”

Closing your eyes, you rested your head on Simon’s shoulder to offer Negan easier access to your skin. Lost in the pleasure the two men were showering you with your right hand went to cup Negan’s bulge, while you grabbed the back of Simon’s head with the other and arched your back against him.

“Looks like someone’s eager,” Simon murmured grinding into your ass.

“She’s not the only one,” Negan hissed. “Let’s get her out of these fucking clothes, before I blow my load in my pants.”

He lifted your shirt over your head, and Simon unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off your legs along with your boots. You felt self-conscious standing before the two men in nothing but your underwear but Negan’s lustful gaze and the appreciative rumble in Simon’s chest chased all your insecurities away. Simon unclasped your bra and you dropped your hands to your sides, letting it slide down onto the floor. He went for your panties next, but Negan stopped him with a grunt, reminding him of the exclusive territorial rights he had established earlier.

Simon seemed unfazed by the setback and put his plan B in motion peppering your neck with sloppy kisses. He placed his right hand on top of yours, and guided it from his crotch to your front, tracing your belly button with the tip of your fingers, before slipping them inside your panties and brushing your slit.

His ingenuity impressed you, but Negan didn’t share the sentiment. 

“Hands off, Simon, her pussy is mine,“ he bared his teeth at him.

The primal gesture combined with the possessiveness in his voice made your insides coil with anticipation. Simon held his hands up with a smug look and licked his fingertips, his eyes closing in delight as he savoured the taste of your arousal.

Negan yanked your panties down, the disapproval over your complicity in Simon’s crime evident on his face. Simon kneeled on the ground and lifted the garment to his nose to take a whiff, before letting it fall on top of your discarded clothes.

“I think we should catch up with her, Simon” Negan suggested, his eyes drinking in your nakedness.

He took off his shirt revealing tufts of dark chest hair and various tattoos, some faded, some more recent looking. You heard Simon unbuckle his belt behind you and looked back over your shoulder to steal a glance. He was bulkier than Negan, his muscles defined, and chest fully shaved. You watched the piles of clothes grow by their feet until they stood before you completely naked, their cocks standing proud against their bellies. Simon’s was thick and veiny, Negan’s long and smooth, but both impressive in its own right. You bit down on your lip, yearning to taste them.

“Like what you see, doll?” Negan flicked his tongue suggestively at you. “Get on your knees and show Simon what that smart mouth is capable of,” he instructed pointing down on the ground. “But don’t make him cum yet.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” you purred.

“We shall see when you choke on his dick,” Negan replied darkly before turning to his right-hand man. “Show her who’s the fucking boss here.”

Simon didn’t need to be told twice and placing his hand on your shoulder pushed you down on the carpet. You grabbed his cock and gave it a few pumps before licking off the drops of pre-cum oozing from the tip. He sighed out loud, as you closed your mouth over the head and sucked gently, enjoying the salty taste. You swallowed him inch by inch, tracing every vein with your tongue, until he was buried deep in your throat. His hands tightened in your hair to keep you still, eliciting a muffled whine from you, your lips vibrating around his length. When you could no longer fight the need to gag, you began to move, bobbing your head up and down.

Opening your eyes, you searched for Negan and found him getting comfortable in the chair you had been sitting in before. He was watching your every move, legs wide open, stroking himself lazily. You mirrored his pace instinctively and sucked on Simon in sync with his palm fisting his dick. Negan sucked on his teeth as he watched your cheeks bulge rhythmically.

You pulled back and swirled your tongue around the crown like catching drips from a melting ice cream cone. Simon lowered his hand to the back of your head, spreading his fingers wide for a solid hold, and started fucking your mouth with abandon. Your throat was contracting and burning with every thrust but you didn’t mind the discomfort, feeling a rush of blood go to your core from him using you just like you had imagined.

“That’s enough,” Negan barked, but Simon was too far gone in pleasure to listen, his eyes closed, and head thrown back. You kept your eyes on Negan to show him that you had heard him and doubled your efforts, forming a ring with your thumb and index finger around the root of Simon’s shaft, and cupping his balls in your free hand. You knew that you were playing with fire, but the thrill was too tempting to resist.

Negan’s mouth twisted into a snarl and he jumped up from the chair to advance on you, his manhood swinging with every step like a metronome. You felt a sharp tug on your hair and let Simon slip from your mouth, a string of saliva hanging off your chin.

“I said, enough!” Negan repeated and pulled you up into a standing position. “Simon, take a time-out before you bust a nut.” 

You felt him swat your ass hard and yelped in surprise.

“This may be your fantasy, doll, but I call the fucking shots here and will not hesitate to dole out some hard punishment, if you don’t follow my orders,” he seethed.

Still holding you by the make-shift ponytail he pushed you towards the bed and showed you down on the mattress.

“On your back, arms above your head.”

You laid back down against the pillows as you were told. Negan knelt between your legs and spread them apart by your knees.

“Well, would you look at this creamy little mess in here!” his eyes gleamed with unadulterated joy.

Getting on his elbows, he traced your mound with his lips, his mouth barely touching you, the combination of the scruff of his beard and his warm breath tickling deliciously. Your hands fisted the sheets as he licked your pussy from bottom to top, before dripping the tip into your opening, and lapping up your juices with relish. He peeked up at you through his long lashes, watching your reactions. His lips were sticky with your arousal as he ate you out shamelessly as if you had been his last meal on Earth.

You looked to your right to find Simon sitting on the couch, watching the two of you with drowsy eyes. He was trying hard to comply with Negan’s orders, but it was evident how much he wanted to touch himself as he fidgeted in his seat, his cock begging for attention.

Negan moved his tongue to your clit and sucked it between his teeth, the sensation exquisite and overwhelming at the same time. You cried out and digging your heels into the mattress lifted your body to move away from him, but he wrapped his fingers around your thighs holding you in place. His tongue continued its sensual assault alternating between slow, soft flicks, and fast, greedy slurps. The variation of the tempo and intensity combined with the thrill of not knowing what his next move would be was driving you crazy with want.

You bucked your hips to maximize the contact between your bodies, he, however, had other plans and sat back on his heels. Pulling you down by the waist until he was kneeling between your thighs, he lined himself up at your entrance and began grinding against your heat, coating his length with your wetness.

“Negan...” you whimpered and raised your pelvis to make him slide inside you, but he restrained you by putting his hand on your stomach.

“Not yet.”

Getting impatient you reached for his dick, but he slapped your hand away.

“I said, not yet! Simon, come here!”

You felt the bed dip and calloused hands pinning your wrists down on the mattress. Tilting your head to the side you continued to suck on Simon, eager to finish what Negan’s intervention had interrupted earlier.

You arched your back off the mattress as Negan pinched your right nipple and rolled it between his fingers. He grazed your left nipple with his teeth, before sucking it into his mouth and blowing on the stiff peak, his saliva feeling like a cool ointment against your overheated skin.

“Please...” you gasped, not sure if you were asking him to stop or to go on.

“I think she’s learned her lesson,” Simon gritted his words, the sensory overload of your lips on him, and the sight of Negan toying with you pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

“I don’t think so, Simon. But it looks like she will milk you dry any minute, and I want to fuck this pretty pussy raw finally.”

Negan positioned himself at your dripping cunt and slid inside, inch by inch. You cried out in ecstasy from the sweet pressure of him stretching you wide. When he was buried to the hilt, he remained still, and taking hold of your ankles, spread your legs wide.

“Look at that, Simon, how she is taking my big, fat dick like a champ?”

He finally began to move in a painfully slow rhythm, enjoying as your warmth enveloped him. Crossing your legs for a closer fit he placed your feet on his shoulder, the penetration so deep that you let out a cry with every thrust. Your entire body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and your damp strands of hair stuck to your forehead. You were exposed and at the mercy of the two men, but had never felt this free and complete. Tension was building in your stomach and you closed your eyes to absorb yourself in the moment.

Negan, however, pulled out abruptly, earning him a frustrated mewl from you that he rewarded with a slap delivered on your swollen clit.

“On all fours, doll. I want to fill this fertile pussy full of my cum.”

Simon let go of your arms and sat back against the headboard. You rolled over lifting yourself up on your elbows, barely able to support your own weight. Negan lifted your ass up and placing his palm between your shoulder blades pushed you down in Simon’s lap. When he was satisfied with the angle, he rammed into you again, his fingers digging into your hips. 

“Are you going to cum on my cock, like a good girl?” he growled and spanked your ass hard.

You cried out an affirmative and continued to pleasure Simon while chasing your own release. A few seconds later you felt every nerve ending in your body tingle and warmth spread to your core. Your toes curled inward as your body surrendered to the inevitable and waves of ecstasy washed over you, dulling your senses for what felt like several minutes. The vibrations of your moans around him made Simon succumb to his own climax. He started twitching and throbbing, before spurting his seed down your throat. You swallowed every drop hungrily before releasing his softening member from your mouth.

Negan let you ride out your high, and then picked up the speed again. Fisting your hair, he pulled your head back twisting your body in an unnatural shape as he continued to pound you. His hand curled around your neck, his fingers squeezing hard enough to make black spots appear in your vision and blood drum in your ears. Drops of sweat fell from his chest to your ass tickling down to your sides and onto the sheet as he rode you, not losing his rhythm for a second.

His moves became more urgent, until he buried himself inside you one last time. He groaned a series of expletives under his breath before biting down on your shoulder as he came inside you, coating your inner walls with his cum. His fingers released their grip around your throat, allowing much-needed oxygen to fill your lungs and a second orgasm, even more intense than the first, consume you. You collapsed on the bed all strength leaving your limbs, as the room came back into focus, your heightened senses perceiving everything all at once.

Negan rolled off of you onto his back, his arm resting over his eyes, as Simon laid down against the pillows, a sly grin plastered over his face.

“Damn, boss,“ he wiped his brow with his thumb. “If only all dreams came true.”

Your reply was a tired but satisfied hum of agreement. A girl could dream, but making it come true was so much better.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

You stirred awake at the break of dawn. Taking in your surroundings you realized that you were still in Negan’s bed. It was dark outside, but the first rays of the sun peeked through the heavy curtains. You felt spent and sore, your skin sticky with the remnants of sweat and dried cum. The bitemark on your neck was still tender, but you wore it with pride as proof of Negan’s claim over you. Turning your head, you found him lying sprawled out on his stomach, his breathing deep and even, but Simon’s side of the bed was empty, the wrinkled sheets cold already.

You sat up carefully, searching for your clothes in the dim light, when you felt a strong arm circle around your waist.

“Where do you think you’re going, doll?” Negan’s raspy drawl made you shiver.

“Back to my room?” you looked at him over your shoulder.

“Nuh-uh,” he pulled you back against his chest. “You are staying. I want you all to myself for round two in the morning. And after that I may even change my mind about fucking you at the Monday briefing.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” you tried to untangle yourself from his hold but were easily overpowered after a playful struggle and his expert fingers finding your tickle spot.

“Just sass me, doll, and you shall see, along with all the filthy ideas I have on my mind.”

The alluring promise made you relax against him, dark words whispered in the twilight lulling you back to sleep, and another fantasy taking shape in your imagination already.

[thehierophage]

Holy Day Meditation for 4/6/21 e.v.

April 6, 2021 æ.v. Dies Martis, 

☉︎ 17° ♈︎ : ☽︎ 19° ♒︎ : ♂︎ : Ⅴⅴⅰⅰ 

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. 

The Day of Héh, the Day of the Star 

Hebrew Letter: Héh 

Numerical Value as Letter: 5 

Numerical Value as Word: 10 (Héh+Héh) 

Meaning: A Window. 

Thoth Card: The Star (Atu XVII) 

Alternate Title: The Daughter of the Firmament, The Dweller Between the Waters. 

Image: 

Correspondences: 

Tree of Life Path Association: Key 15 - Tiphareth to Chokmah (from Sephira 6-2) 

Astrological Sign: Aquarius 

Element: Air 

Egyptian Godforms: Nuit, Hapy/Ahepi, Aroueris, Taweret/Thooeris 

Geomantic Figure: Tristitia 

Gemstones: Chalcedony, Garnet, Jasper, Crystal 

Perfumes: Euphorbium, Galbanum 

Plants: Ramthorn, Dragonwort, Coconut 

Animals: Man, Eagle, Peacock 

Colors: 

King Scale – Violet 

Queen Scale – Sky blue 

Prince Scale – Blueish mauve 

Princess Scale – White tinged purple 

The Secret Instruction of the Master:

Pour water on thyself: thus shalt thou be a Fountain to the Universe. Find thou thyself in every Star! Achieve thou every possibility!

Mnemonic:

Nuit, our Lady of the Stars! Event Is all Thy play, sublime Experiment!

Recommended Text for Meditation:

Liber DCCCXIII ARARITA vel DLXX, Cap. 6

Liber DCCCXIII ARARITA

A.˙.A.˙. Publication in Class A. Imprimatur: N. Fra A.˙. A.˙.

V

0. Deeper and deeper into the mire of things! Farther and farther into the never-ending Expansion of the Abyss. 

1. The great goddess that bendeth over the Universe is my mistress; I am the winged globe at her heart. 

2. I contract ever as she ever expandeth; 

3. At the end it is all one. 

4. Our loves have brought to birth the Father and Creator of all things. 

5. He hath established the elements; the aether, the air, the water, the earth, and the fire. 

6. He hath established the wandering stars in their courses. 

7. He hath ploughed with the seven stars of his Plough, that the Seven might move indeed, yet ever point to the unchanging One. 

8. He hath established the Eight Belts, wherewith he hath girdled the globes. 

9. He hath established the Trinity of Triads in all things, forcing fire into fire, and ordering all things in the Stable Abode of the Kings of Ægypt. 

10. He hath established His rule in His kingdom. 

11. Yet the Father also boweth unto the Power of the Star 418 and thereby 

12. In his subtlety He expandeth it all into twelve rays of the Crown. 

13. And these twelve rays are One.

Additional Suggested Reading:

Liber XXXIII - "An Account of A.•.A.•." An Account of A.·.A.·. sub figura XXXIII Publication in class C

First written in the language of his period by the Councillor Von Eckartshausen and now revised and rewritten in the Universal Cipher

A.·. A.·.

Official publication in Class C

Issued by Order:

D.D.S. 7deg. = 4deg.

O.S.V. 6deg. = 5deg.

N.S.F. 5deg. = 6deg.

AN ACCOUNT OF A.·. A.·.

IT is necessary, my dear brothers, to give you a clear idea of the interior Order; of that illuminated community which is scattered throughout the world, but which is governed by one truth and united in one spirit.

This community possesses a School, in which all who thirst for knowledge are instructed by the Spirit of Wisdom itself; and all the mysteries of nature are preserved in this school for the children of light. Perfect knowledge of nature and of humanity is taught in this school. It is from her that all truths penetrate into the world; she is the school of all who search for wisdom, and it is in this community alone that truth and the explanation of all mystery are to be found. It is the most hidden of communities, yet it contains members from many circles; nor is there any Centre of Thought whose activity is not due to the presence of one of ourselves. From all time there has been an exterior school based on the interior one, of which it is but the outer expression. From all time, therefore, there has been a hidden assembly, a society of the Elect, of those who sought for and had capacity for light, and this interior society was the Axle of the R.O.T.A. All that any external order possesses in symbol, ceremony, or rite is the letter expressive outwardly of that spirit of truth which dwelleth in the interior Sanctuary. Nor is the contradiction of the exterior any bar to the harmony of the interior.

Hence this Sanctuary, composed of members widely scattered indeed but united by the bonds of perfect love, has been occupied from the earliest ages in building the grand Temple (through the evolution of humanity) by which the reign of L.V.X. will be manifest. This society is in the communion of those who have most capacity for light; they are united in truth, and their Chief is the Light of the World himself, V.V.V.V.V., the One Anointed in Light, the single teacher for the human race, the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

The interior Order was formed immediately after the first perception of man's wider heritage had dawned upon the first of the adepts; it received from the Masters at first-hand the revelation of the means by which humanity could be raised to its rights and delivered from its misery. It received the primitive charge of all revelation and mystery; it received the key of true science, both divine and natural.

But as men multiplied, the frailty of man necessitated an exterior society which veiled the interior one, and concealed the spirit and the truth in the letter, because many people were not capable of comprehending great interior truth. Therefore, interior truths were wrapped in external and perceptible ceremonies, so that men, by the perception of the outer which is the symbol of the interior, might by degrees be enabled safely to approach the interior spiritual truths.

But the inner truth has always been confided to him who in his day had the most capacity for illumination, and he became the sole guardian of the original Trust, as High Priest of the Sanctuary.

When it became necessary that interior truths should be enfolded in exterior ceremony and symbol, on account of the real weakness of men who were not capable of hearing the Light of Light, then exterior worship began. It was, however, always the type or symbol of the interior, that is to say, the symbol of the true and Secret Sacrament.

The external worship would never have been separated from interior revel but for the weakness of man, which tends too easily to forget the spirit in the letter; but the Masters are vigilant to note in every nation those who are able to receive light, and such persons are employed as agents to spread the light according to man's capacity and to revivify the dead letter.

Through these instruments the interior truths of the Sanctuary were taken into every nation, and modified symbolically according to their customs, capacity for instruction, climate, and receptiveness. So that the external types of every religion, worship, ceremonies and Sacred Books in general have more or less clearly, as their object of instruction, the interior truths of the Sanctuary, by which man will be conducted to the universal knowledge of the one Absolute Truth.

The more the external worship of a people has remained united with the spirit of esoteric truth, the purer its religion; but the wider the difference between the symbolic letter and the invisible truth, the more imperfect has become the religion. Finally, it may be, the external form has entirely parted from its inner truth, so that ceremonial observances without soul or life have remained alone.

In the midst of all this, truth reposes inviolable in the inner Sanctuary.

Faithful to the spirit of truth, the members of the interior Order live in silence, but in real activity.

Yet, besides their secret holy work, they have from time to time decided upon political strategic action.

Thus, when the earth was night utterly corrupt by reason of the Great Sorcery, the Brethren sent Mohammed to bring freedom to mankind by the sword.

This being but partially a success, they raised up one Luther to teach freedom of thought. Yet this freedom soon turned into a heavier bondage than before.

Then the Brethren delivered unto man the knowledge of nature, and the keys thereof; yet this also was prevented by the Great Sorcery.

Now then finally in nameless ways, as one of our Brethren hath it now in mind to declare, have they raised up One to deliver unto men the keys of Spiritual Knowledge, and by His work shall He be judged.

This interior community of light is the reunion of all those capable of receiving light, and it is known as the Communion of Saints, the primitive receptacle for all strength and truth, confided to it from all time.

By it the agents of L.V.X. were formed in every age, passing from the interior to the exterior, and communicating spirit and life to the dead letter, as already said.

This illuminated community is the true school of L.V.X.; it has its Chair, its Doctors; it possesses a rule for students; it has forms and objects for study.

It has also its degrees for successive development to greater altitudes.

This school of wisdom has been for ever most secretly hidden from the world, because it is invisible and submissive solely to illuminated government.

It has never been exposed to the accidents of time and to the weakness of man, because only the most capable were chosen for it, and those who selected made no error.

Through this school were developed the germs of all the sublime sciences, which were first received by external schools, then clothed in other forms, and hence degenerated.

According to time and circumstances, the society of sages communicated unto the exterior societies their symbolic hieroglyphs, in order to attract man to the great truths of their Sanctuary.

But all exterior societies subsist only by virtue of this interior one. As soon as external societies wish to transform a temple of wisdom into a political edifice, the interior society retires and leaves only the letter without the spirit. It is thus that secret external societies of wisdom were nothing but hieroglyphic screens, the truth remaining inviolable in the Sanctuary so that she might never be profaned.

In this interior society man finds wisdom and with her All--- not the wisdom of this world, which is but scientific knowledge, which revolves round the outside but never touches the centre (in which is contained all strength), but true wisdom, understanding and knowledge, reflections of the supreme illumination.

All disputes, all controversies, all the things belonging to the false cares of this world, fruitless discussions, useless germs of opinions which spread the seeds of disunion, all error, schisms, and systems are banished. Neither calumny nor scandal is known. Every man is honoured. Love alone reigns.

We must not, however, imagine that this society resembles any secret society, meeting at certain times, choosing leaders and members, united by special objects. All societies, be what they may, can but come after this interior illuminated circle. This society knows none of the formalities which belong to the outer rings, the work of man. In this kingdom of power all outward forms cease.

L.V.X. is the Power always present. The greatest man of his times, the chief himself, does not always know all the members, but the moment when it is necessary that he should accomplish any object he finds them in the world with certainty ready to his hand.

This community has no outside barriers. He who may be chosen is as the first; he presents himself among the others without presumption, and he is received by the others without jealousy.

If it be necessary that real members should meet together, they find and recognize each other with perfect certainty.

No disguise can be used, neither hypocrisy nor dissimulation could hide the characteristic qualities which distinguish the members of this society. All illusion is gone, and things appear in their true form.

No one member can choose another; unanimous choice is required. Though not all men are called, many of called are chosen, and that as soon as they become fit for entrance.

Any man can look for the entrance, and any man who is within can teach another to seek for it; but only he who is fit can arrive within.

Unprepared men occasion disorder in a community, and disorder is not compatible with the Sanctuary. Thus it is impossible to profane the Sanctuary, since admission is not formal but real.

Worldly intelligence seeks this Sanctuary in vain; fruitless also will be the efforts of malice to penetrate these great mysteries; all is indecipherable to him who is not ripe; he can see nothing, read nothing in the interior.

He who is fit is joined to the chain, perhaps often where he though least likely, and at a point of which he knew nothing himself.

To become fit should be the sole effort of him who seeks wisdom.

But there are methods by which fitness is attained, for in this holy communion is the primitive storehouse of the most ancient and original science of the human race, with the primitive mysteries also of all science. It is the unique and really illuminated community which is absolutely in possession of the key to all mystery, which knows the centre and source of all nature. It is a society which unites superior strength to its own, and counts its members from more than one world. It is the society whose members form the republic of Genius, the Regent Mother of the whole World.

[The Revisers wish to acknowledge gratefully the translation of Madame de Steiger, which they have freely quoted.]

Love is the law, love under will.

[headoverjojo]

I'm so happy you're back but indeed what's most important rn is for you to take it easy and do what's best for you, please, don't put any unnecessary pressure on yourself🥺💞! If your requests are officially open, would you be interested in writing a wholesome college AU scenario with and an art major s/o and Risotto (whatever you'd think he'd may major in😳)?

Hi there, darlings! Since the requests were really similar, I’ve done one scenario for both! I hope it’s not disappointing :c This said, here we go! I hope you’ll like it :3 

Italian University AU: Risotto Nero falls in love with a fellow (art) student

(Under the cut for length!)

Y/N rolled their eyes, when their friend reminded them again that they had to go out with a group of friends from Law, that afternoon. It wasn’t like Y/N didn’t like to go out with their friends -it was pleasant, especially when they did it just for fun and not for studying-, but, well… they felt a little awkward to do it with people they didn’t know. Yes, those types of meetings were the perfect chance to actually make new friends, but still… they didn’t feel totally comfortable. Well, they thought, sighing, they just have to endure and it would have been finished soon. At least, they hoped so.

They arrived at the university’s cafeteria just in time; the Law group was already there, and they loudly welcomed them. Y/N was surprised by their welcoming warmth, and hope peaked again in their mind. Maybe it would have been a nice afternoon, all in all…

Well, it was a false hope. Soon, they found themselves in a corner, stirring their coffee and staring at the sweet brown cream on the top. They knew they shouldn’t have come…

“You’ve been dragged here too?” a low and deep voice made them almost jolt. They turned around, surprised, seeing that one student from the Law group was sitting next them. His hair was white, and their eyes… red? It was a dark red, but it was unmistakably red. How in the world…?

“Ah. It’s a genetic defect. It creeps out many people.” he explained, noticing where they were watching. Y/N averted their eyes, embarrassed to have been caught red handed. They were really messing up that conversation, weren’t they?

“My name’s Risotto. What’s yours?” they turned around again, feeling, despite the deep embarrassment, quite… soothed. His voice and stance, so relaxed yet confident, were calming them.

“So, Y/N… someone’s got your attention, uh?” Y/N’s friend teased them,  and they huffed, blushing a little. Well, that was true… but it wasn’t a big deal! They were just friends! Friends who shared a course! Nothing more!

“I… Y/N. My name’s Y/N.” they smiled, and Risotto’s lips too bent a little, softening his serious face.

It was strange, but they felt at ease all the time they had talked to him. Y/N even laughed, listening to Risotto’s stories about few of his professors, and they enjoyed telling him about their art projects and studies. Risotto listened quietly and intently, and he seemed interested for real. It made their heart flutter.

“He’s a nice guy. Nothing more.” Y/N grumbled, picking up their book to study for the upcoming exam.

The next day, now that they knew they shared the Anthropology course, they sat next to each other. It was nice not to be all alone… and they could enjoy his warmth. In fact, his body radiated so much heat that Y/N didn’t even need to take their coat on, as they usually did. Soon, they took the habit to lay a little on his shoulder, to absorb even more warmth and, even if they never told it aloud, to enjoy his company. They also took the habit to study together, if they hadn’t any other lesson in the afternoon, wherever they happened to be: a bar, if they were lucky in a study room, on the university’s terrace, in an empty classroom, even sitting on the stairs. They were inseparable.

Shifting from friendship to a romantic relationship was smooth and gradual. As they grew more familiar, everyone around them started to bet on when they would have finally understood that they liked each other. It was so evident! They always searched for each other even when they were going out with the whole group, they playfully teased each other, Risotto’s friends swore that they had never seen him being so relaxed and at ease around someone, and the way they looked at each other… it was like they were gazing at the most bright and beautiful thing in the whole cosmos.

“Tomorrow’s our last lesson together…” Y/N grumbled, sighing. They never said it aloud, but they were a bit scared that, seeing each other less, their relationship would have crumbled. Risotto looked at them, gently closing his textbook, and leaned on his elbows, staring at them in the eyes. They pouted, perfectly knowing what he was doing: his eyes seemed to dig deep into everyone’s soul, and this usually lead the other to spill every kind of secret.Y/N saw its effect on someone else, but this was the first time he did it with them. Clearly, he had smelled that something had bothered them for a while.

“I know what you are doing…” they muttered, crossing their arms. Risotto’s lips bent in a small smile that immediately warmed his eyes too, and shaked his head a little, without tearing his eyes from theirs. It was almost unsettling how he could manage not to blink for such a long time…

“Hm? I’m doing nothing, Y/N. I’m just listening to you.” he replied, with a calm tone  that made them huff again. Ah, that innocent façade…!

“You stare into someone’s eyes when you want them to spill their secrets!” they complained, making him chuckle. The innocent façade didn’t fall down, and he even slid a hand over them, gently caressing the back of theirs.

“So? Then, there’s something that you’d like to say?” he asked, gently. Y/n sighed, with a small pout. It was a silly fear… but, well, he knew that they were mulling over something, so keeping it a secret wasn’t a great idea…

“It’s nothing, just a silly fear…” they tried to minimize, but his eyes grew serious once again, losing the previous playfulness.

“If something scares you, it’s not silly. Let’s see if we can deal with it together, hm?” Y/N almost felt their eyes sting, hearing his soft words. He really wanted to help… they took another deep breath, gathering the will to speak. He deserved to know…

“Well… I’m afraid our relationship might… get ruined, if we don’t see each other that often for the course. I don’t want it.” they whispered, averting their eyes from his face. They heard his chair scratching the floor of the study room, and soon they felt his warmth right near them. They closed their eyes, when he kissed their temple and then their cheek, before resting his forehead on their hair.

“I did not fall in love with you because we frequented the same course. And when we don’t do it, I won’t stop to love you. Understood, amore?” he said, with a steady and relaxing voice. Y/N smiled a little, interweaving their fingers with his, feeling way lighter, as if a weight had been pulled off their shoulders.

“Understood. You’ll have to bear with me for a long time, then.” Risotto chuckled at their words, and kissed again their cheek, before looking at their current art project.

“So, you said you needed help… let’s do it, shall we?” Y/N smiled, nodding, and took their tools, way happier than before. Yes, he was right… it would have been all fine, in the end.

[seo--jun]

heyo heyo it’s kat back again with a new muse !! this is sam and he’s posh as hell !! read more below the cut !! my discord is kat#1056 if anyone would like to plot there !!

━♡ guess the 26 YEAR OLD NOVEMBER baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because WEON “SAM” SEOJUN  is just as BRILLIANT as the month of NOVEMBER. wait, why do they remind me of KIM NAMJOON? beyond that, they seemed OUTGOING & INTROSPECTIVE upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of DISTANT & SPACY though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX #4 / APARTMENT #6 / FLOOR #4 ; HE seem(s) to have a lot going on with HIS job as A FOOD CRITIC. ( kat, 20+, she/her, est. )

basic info !

name: seojun “sam” weon age: 26 pronouns: he / him birthdate / sign: november 26th 1994, sagittarius (idk whats with me and sags i just love to write them) occupation: food critic, photographer (mostly related to food for articles, ect, but as a hobby also does nature photography and candids of friends and family)

background !

sam was born in seoul, south korea to a family of prestige and occasional notoriety. he’s the only child to a successful lawyer (mom) and a renowned art critic (dad). growing up his parents jobs had the family moving around pretty often and sam ended up living in the states for a lot of his childhood (thus the english nickname). he always had a knack for cooking and, admittedly, some of the finer things in life. he liked nice clothes and furniture, he liked clean floors and chandeliers, he loved good food and fancy restaurants, but never to the point where it was gaudy, always more appreciative than show-offy. 

he isn’t judgmental. at least, he doesn’t think so. he’s been privileged his whole life and he knows it, doesn’t take it for granted or think less of people in different situations then himself. he knows his career was largely influenced and amplified by his parents success, his ability to make money and do what he loves only an option because of the support he was given. he's thankful for what he has, but he also experienced a lot of distance from his parents due to their careers and never had many lasting relationships due to not have siblings and moving around as much as he had. 

he was always an exemplary student, though he struggles to take full credit for it given the tutors and teachers he had being some of the “best.” failure, he supposed, was never really an option. he had freedom, though. cross country trips by himself became an option at the age of sixteen and experimentation in careers, life, and style became something he loved, something he relied on. he’s well-traveled, friendly, and also inexplicably.. lonely. he fills his life with work and travel and new people to avoid being solitary, nothing more shaking than sitting in an empty apartment with no one to talk to, the only savior the sound of the television playing to an vacant couch in the other room to avoid the empty side of his bed but... anyways.

so how exactly had he ended up in dallyeog? well, it’s sort of a funny story, really. he had a lease somewhere else (perhaps somewhere of similar intrigue… perhaps somewhere much, much nicer) ready for when he came home from a stint in california but when he arrived it seemed there were some problems with the paperwork and... long story short he had nowhere to live. after some quick last-minute searching he found that dallyeog was one of the only complexes that had an open availability for more or less an instant move in. and now he has a year and a half lease. so. that’s that. 

wanted connections !

connection: not a life coach but i’ll coach you in life TAKEN

aesthetic: empty packets of ramen / smudged eyeliner / colorful clothes patterns / raucous laughter / painted fingernails / big sweatshirts / long hugs / walks around the city / late night phone calls / special ringtones / crying on a train / fighting over the bill / holding someone’s face in your hands

in depth: they weren’t meant to be best friends, not quite like this. they met in the apartment building and your muse was at some sort of rock bottom, maybe sam ran into them crying in the stairwell late at night, maybe they locked themselves out of their apartment -- whatever it was, he offered to help and since then, well... he just kept helping. it’s not pity and it’s not a savior complex, he knows your muse could survive without him, but he likes spending time with them and they want to be helped. whether it’s life advice, fashion advice, cooking help, or any other variant -- sam has their back. similarly, sometimes its good to be reminded to let go a little, embrace mess and chaos and just accept life as it is; not everything can be helped, not everything is avoidable. a classic case of opposites attract.

connection: pretty handsome awkward

aesthetic: flushed cheeks / drunken laughter / holding hands / bar stools / leaning towards someone when you talk / messy hair / heavy jackets / over-the-shoulder and around-the-waist hugs / talking til late at night / strategic ‘good morning’ texts

in depth: they met at a bar and hit it off. it was a classic meet cute, he was out by himself stressing over some emails he has to deal with and your muse happened to be seated nearby. your muse broke the ice and then hours later he looked at his watch, surprised. it was late. really late, like the-bar-was-about-to-close-on-a-friday late. he offered to walk your muse home and very quickly realized that was also HIS way home and, well, you’re neighbors!! surprise!! now it seems you have an ongoing flirtationship that exists over beers and in a jacket slung over your muses shoulders that has yet to go anywhere serious. 

connection: that ‘struggling artist’ type of love

aesthetic: paint splatters on a white wall / torn-up sneakers / sticking your head out of a sunroof / throwing stones at closed windows / banging on a bedroom door at two am / sticky notes on a bathroom mirror / ‘this reminded me of you’ / glitter stuck in the carpet / abandoned canvas’ / a wall of photographs

in depth: your muse is unlike anyone he’s ever met before, and that’s saying something. this works best with an eccentric muse, an artist, a free spirit. your muse is, well, HIS muse. he has a roll of candids he’s taken of them on his camera while they hung out, sprawled over a couch or wandering the streets of the city. they don’t worry about the future, they live in the present and it’s foreign to him, he’s drawn to it like a moth to a flame. sam doesn’t consider himself an artist, not creative even in cooking or photography, but they make him feel -- unique.

connection: the ghost haunting my halls

aesthetic: late nights / darkened hallways / slow, quiet footsteps / lit cigarettes / stargazing / losing track of time / wearily catching each other’s eye / sweatpants and slippers / disheveled hair from tossing and turning / sleeplessness / old cartoon reruns 

in depth: you run into each other in the hallways more often than not. it’s a constant struggle to fall and stay asleep, singularly he’s sometimes found wandering the halls or going for walks until the early morning. somehow your muse always seems to be awake. sometimes they go for walks together, or they hang out in one another’s apartments, watching old reruns and eating whatever’s left in the fridge. it’s strange, really, how you never seem to hang out outside of these nights, but it happened organically, and it’s nice to feel a little less lonely when the sun breaks the horizon.

( note: all of these are open to any gender identity !! these are the main ones i have for now but i will be making a full plots page and adding more soon !! in the meantime feel free to message me to brainstorm if you have any other ideas you wanna explore !! )

[mycatshuman]

Castle of Devils

Can Ghost Get a Name Change?

Masterlist | Previous | Next | More

I'm sorry if this is shity.

----------

"So I have been doing some thinking," Valak said as he wandered into Virgil's room. The vampire was still on his hunger strike and sulking in his bed. Valak paid no mind to it though, he had haunted the other enough to know addressing it would only cause it to last longer. (At least he hoped so.) "And 'Valak' is so old school, don't you think?" Virgil didn't respond, too focused on trying to suppress his hunger. Valak already assumed Virgil wouldn't and carried on. "And my thinking has led me to come up with the idea to change my name." 

This sparked Virgil's interest, but he still refused to answer. Valak didn't get offended by Virgil's lack of response. He knew the other tended to stay as quiet as he could when he was hungry, at least until the feeling went away. "Now, I'm not sure what kind of name I want yet, like how do you choose a name? What is a name? What is society?" Virgil snorted. Valak counted that as a win. "Anyway, of course I have to keep the snake aesthetic-" 

"Drama queen," Virgil cut in with a smirk. 

Valak feigned offense. "Why I never! Me? A drama queen? It's impossible." Virgil rolled his eyes. "Now, as I was saying before I was so gracefully interrupted." Valak cast aside his glance at Virgil who simply stuck his tongue out at the ghost. "And since I am practically your mother at this point," 

"You're not my mom," Virgil objected. 

Valak rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Virgil? Why if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be out here chasing your dreams? And honestly, could you really forget the amount of times I've scared humans out of the castle because you forgot to lock the door. Honestly, you must have a death wish or something." 

"Well," Virgil started. 

Valak turned around to face him with a glare. "No, no death wishes allowed."

"Aww but it's so fun," Virgil teased. 

"Did that even make sense?" Virgil shrugged. "Well, I was thinking, since I am such a good mother to you-" Virgil rolled his eyes "-that decided I would find a name with the same cultural origin as you!" 

"Oh? And what would that be?" 

"Janus."

Virgil blinked. "Janus?" 

"Yeah," Valak started, suddenly insecure, "Is it bad?" 

Virgil was silent for a few moments before nodding his head. "No, I like it, it's certainly unexpected. But unexpected is good."

"Really?" Valak asked as he floated closer and down onto the bed. 

"Yeah, it's cool." 

Janus smiled. "Thanks, Virgil."

---------

"Wow! This is quite a place you got here, Roman!" Remus exclaimed as he entered Roman's home, his brother pausing to lock the door. 

"So, what are we going to do about the vampire?" Roman asked, cutting right to the chase. 

Remus frowned. "I told your, dear brother, that I'm going to have to see him in action first before I can decide how we go about this."

"But that could result in someone dying!" Roman exclaimed, angrily. 

Remus rolled his eyes. "Well I don't want to go in and end up getting killed because we underestimated him." 

Roman left out a huff. "Fine." He sat down on his couch as Remus continued to explore his home. Soon, his brother came back and plopped down on the recliner opposite his brother. Roman had calmed down enough by now to ask his next question. "Is there a way to protect my friends Logan and Patton?" 

"Oh, sure," Remus said. "So long as they keep a lot of garlic on them." 

"But it put garlic in the food I ate!" Roman exclaimed. "That's not going to work!" 

Remus rolled his eyes. "And you like to boast that you're the smart one. Tsk tsk." Roman growled. "Too much garlic affects vampires. Their sense of smell is heightened so it's going to repel them due to the strong smell." Of course there was the possibility of a vampire who wasn't put off by the smell. But Remus was trying to get his brother laid by the man he loved. And then he could call him a monster fucker. So Remus left that tidbit of information out. 

"Okay," Roman started. "So how much would we need?" 

"Take the amount you find unbearable and cut it in half. Their senses are about doubled so it'll be about the same experience you would have with the full amount. Or you could just get about 30 cloves of garlic and hope that works " Remus snickered as Roman carefully sorted through the information. 

"Okay, so I just have to tell Patton and Logan to buy a lot of garlic and keep it in the house until this problem is solved. But what about when they aren't at home." 

"That's iffy. They could wear garlic around their neck but that might get them some looks. So they could just eat a lot of it or wipe down with garlic juice." 

"Ew!" Roman exclaimed. 

"What? It'll work." 

Roman sighed before picking up his phone and calling Logan. No matter how ridiculous it sounded, Roman was taking no chances when it came to his friends safety. 

--------

"Who was that?" Patton asked his husband as he entered the study. 

Logan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That was Roman. He went to see his brother. The two have since discussed how to protect ourselves from the 'vampire'." 

"Okay, what did he say?" 

"He said that we need to, and I quote, "get a lot of garlic, like a shit ton.' I am not putting up with this foolishness. I do not want our home smelling like garlic, this is ridiculous."

Patton smiled softly at his husband. "Come on, Logan. You saw how torn up Roman was over this whole issue, I think its the least we could do until we find a way to prove that this fellow isn't a vampire." 

Logan stared at Patton as if he had grown a third head. Shocked and curious. "Patton, I do not understand how filling our house with garlic to the point that it is nearly unbearable is in anyway helpful." 

Patton sighed. "Okay, think of it this way, would you rather not listen and have Roman do it himself?" 

Logan's eyes widened in horror as he realized that if they didn't do it, Roman would. And if Roman did it, they wouldn't have much say in how much garlic invested their home. "Well, it appears that we are going to the store today," Logan replied as he straightened his tie. "Although I find this whole affair utterly foolish and childish, I do wish to remain in control in such a situation as to how much garlic we bring into our home, and Roman is anything but subtle." 

Patton giggled. "We can get some Crofters while we're out, too." Logan had never moved faster in his life. 

--------

Roman's nose wrinkled as he brought the last bag of garlic into his house. "This is absolutely unbearable!" He exclaimed as he dropped the bag of garlic to the floor. 

Remus grinned as he bounded into the house. "I know! Isn't it absolutely stinky!!" 

Roman cringed at his brother. How anyone could find joy in things that made others uncomfortable or cringe, he wouldn't know. But he somehow got stuck with one of those people as his brother. But, he supposed it could be worse. "You're absolutely sure this will work?" Roman asked again as he began moving the garlic into his kitchen to keep it out of the spaces he actually used. 

As he moved them, he found himself thinking of how outraged Virgil would be if he saw the state of Roman's kitchen. He would probably go off asking how Roman survives on his own. Roman giggled before remembering. The monster must have affected me more than I realized. Roman quickly put the rest of the garlic in the kitchen and forced his mind to focus on anything else. 

------

Remus sat up once he heard the door to his brother's room close. Now it was time for him to muddle. He pulled out his laptop and began searching through the internet for any information on Virgil Stoker. He didn't find much personal information. He did however find a crafting business website for a Virgil Stoker. Whether or not this was the Virgil Stoker that his brother talked about, he couldn't be sure. What Remus could be sure about, is that his brother was seriously suppressing some feelings. And as his twin brother, it was his duty to muddle in his brother's love life. One that Remus took very seriously. 

So of course he had to do more research. He moved to type into the search bar before he paused. What should he search for? How to seduce a vampire? How to make a man fall in love with a vampire? How to get your brother to fuck a vampire? He supposed this was a more complex situation than he originally thought. Well, he would have to search through the results for each question. Then he could scrap together a plan.

Remus's face split into a crooked smile. He was really going to enjoy this. 

--------

Virgil wasn't really sure what he had expected when he went to the grocery store for the first time since the move. However, he was sure that he did not expect to see Roman and a person who looked fairly similar to Roman rushing through the store with a cart full of garlic. Thinking about it later it did hurt him to imagine that the cause for the garlic shopping Roman was doing was because he wanted to ward him off. 

Virgil then began to wonder if maybe he should not have come. He didn't want to push Roman or be one of those types of crazy ex's. And of course Roman would take it that way because Virgil had never really shown Roman that it would be for any other reason. This led to Virgil sitting in the dark basement of his new home, where all his things sat ready to be unboxed because Virgil was a king at procrastinating. (And why wouldn't he be? He was a vampire who had lived hundreds of years. He could afford to procrastinate.) 

That's where Janus found him after he came home from his roaming around the neighborhood. He had to introduce himself to the other ghosts, he couldn't always spend time with Virgil and Virgil couldn't always spend time with him. Plus, Janus needed some new people to spill the tea with. And he needed to be in on the tea spilling.

"Virgil?" Janus called softly as he glided through the air smoothly. "Something seems to be upsetting you." 

"Nice going, Einstein," Virgil spit out as he dug his nails into his arms once more and dragged down. Blood beaded from the scratches until they closed up due to the enhanced healing rate his vampirism gave him. 

Janus rolled his eyes and glided down to sit beside Virgil. "Are you going to tell me or are you going to have me guess?" Virgil stayed quiet and raked his nails down his arms once again. "Alright, so does Roman have a boyfriend?" Janus paused to take in Virgil's reaction. "I'll take that as a 'no' then. Maybe he screamed at you and called you a monster. Or maybe he threw holy water at you? Or perhaps he hit you with garlic," Virgil tensed and clenched his hands around his arms, the nails piercing his skin. "Ah, I see I have hit a nerve. Does it have something to do with hitting you or the garlic, hhm?" Virgil clenched his teeth as Janus let out a sigh. "So I see, it was the garlic, then?" 

Tears fell from Virgil's eyes as he finally fell apart. "I saw him buying a lot of garlic and I know it doesn't really affect me but I know he was getting it to ward me off and I know he hates me and he's probably planning ways to kill me," Virgil sobbed into his hands as Janus carefully inspected the new information. 

"I think," he began. "Roman needs some time to process everything, he is running on fear right now, he's not thinking right. I think we just have to prove to him that you aren't a monster." 

Virgil wiped the tears from his eyes. Goodness he was so emotional over this. "Do you really think that's going to work?" 

Janus hummed. "I think that Roman just needs to be reminded of why he fell for you in the first place." 

Virgil snorted. "Are you sure he even fell for me at all?" 

"Come on Virgil, you're a mysterious emo guy with a castle and a love for Disney. I'm pretty sure that's Roman's type." The two undead friends erupted into laughter as the mood in the room lifted slightly. Things were going to be okay. Maybe not right away, but they would be in time. 

--------

Everything Taglist: @spxced-oxt @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @lyditist @little-euro-girl @unicornofdarknessstuff @maryann-draws @odette-ssbu

Castle of Devils Taglist: @kittycake574 @rainbow-roman @icequeenoriginal @ilovemygaydad @comicsimpson @notalwaysthebadguy @loveyatothemoonandback

[letspurpletogether]

Out of the Void || BTS

↳ Summary: The one where the boys stumble upon that one fic and they all end up reading. (This is a crack fic inspired by @btssavedmylifeblr’s Void, because my own words are not enough to describe how an amazing story Void it is, and what a outstanding writer Bee is).

⇢ Warnings: BEWARE OF SPOILERS!! This things should be full of them so I suggest you to read all of Void before reading this just in case. Also, for those entitled rude anons: stop demanding updates from the fan fiction writers like they owe you shit, cause they don’t! And stop coming at them to complain about their publishing schedule. This is done for fun and for free, if you can’t be patient and respect their creative process then fuck off!

A/N: Also, I had so much fun writing this. I wanted to keep adding and adding stuff. However, since english is not my mother language i had some trouble describing the scenes the way I pictured them in my head. Therefore, I decided to leave it like this for now. 

(TT-TT) Im sorry, Bee! I did try my best, I know it doesn’t do Void justice. But I still wanted to write it for you because Void is such an amazing story! 

That’s it! Please,enjoy!

→ 01

[...]

He shouldn’t be doing this.

Hoseok checked over his shoulder again before turning back to the phone in his hands. It wasn’t like if someone were to come into his studio right now and catch him watching porn.

Hell, this was so much worse.

Especially considering how he was supposed to be working on the rap arrangement for the new song, and not checking out a piece of fan-fiction... If Namjoon were to catch him he was going to give him hell for days.

He had strictly advised the six of them against it several times, but to be honest Hoseok was to eager to find out what happened next to actually acknowledge the suggestion. Besides, he was he eldest of the two and it wasn’t like he had to listen to his band member. Joon was only the leader when the cameras were out. Inside their dorms he couldn’t even remember to wash the dishes when he was supposed to or take the clothes out of the dryer so they wouldn’t end up a crumble mess the next morning.

Also, it was all Jimin’s fault.

His dongsaeng had sent him the link without any explanation last week. It was a silly thing they did to each other trying to make the other cringe with whatever weird-ass story they could find, mostly on Twitter. It was all for the laughs but they had stopped doing it when Hoseok had accidentally send Seokjin a rather explicit piece that involved Jimin and Yoongi in a threesome with some kind of catgirl trying to get her pregnant. It was meant for the young boy, of course and that slip of hand had resulted in a hysteric Seokjin exposing them right in front of the others.

Hoseok has been so embarrassed after that he couldn’t even look at Yoongi in the face for a whole ass week. Even though his hyung had said it was fine. It didn’t help that Taehyung and Jungkook wouldn’t let the topic die either. Those rascals, he made sure to make them wore their asses off in the following dance practices.

But anyways, he and Jimin had agreed to stop.

So it was a surprise to receive a new link from him after a couple months. He’d ignored it at first, being too busy with practice and rehearsals to bother with checking it up. But yesterday while waiting for his appointment with the cupping therapist, he’d absentmindedly opened it and was actually surprised with what he’d found. Written in English, it was a space story... and they were astronauts!

At that moment he been too oblivious to care and read the warnings or summary on top of the post. For a moment of innocent wonder he actually got caught up in the first scene. He was a scientist in space, it couldn’t get any cooler than that! But of course, he had soon realized what type of story it was.

The problem was that it didn’t start right off with the porn part like most stories he’s found while browsing the darkest depths of the ARMY’s fandom. He’d read some weird shit himself, demons, half-animal people, male pregnancyㅡHell! even tentacles once. The kind of things his fans could come up with was exhilarating, and it blew his mind that the weirdest and kinkiest were for some reason the best well-written of allㅡ.

But this story was different.

It had a storyline, an actual estructure, inciting incident, clear stakes, the whole pack. Years listening to his father reviewing novels and short-stories had resulted in him developing an appetite for well-written stories. And even though the main character was that Y/N type their fans where so keen about, she wasn’t plain at all. She struggled, and that was nice to read. Besides, all that astronaut stuff sounded so legit that he almost consider the possibility of the author being an astronaut herself. He’d always been a fan of fantasy and sci-fi since he was child and his father brought him the entire collection of Jules Verne’s novels for his eleventh birthday. Stories about voyages to far and unknown places were his guilty pleasure, so of course he got hooked up with this piece faster than he’d ever with any other he’d read so far.

But he couldn’t finished the chapter that time because the masseur was already calling his name. The scrolling bar told him he wasn’t even half way through it, so he’d copied the link for later and went to the therapist office. So now there he was resuming his reading with renewed eagerness.

The main character had just arrived at a green house inside the ship. And there was Yoongi.

Hoseok huffed and raised an eyebrow when he realized this scene focused all on his elder. Wasn’t he supposed to be the main character here? Not that he complained, though. Yoongi’s fingers where indeed nice after all and wouldn’t blame the girl for obsess over them. But in most stories he’d read there was always a lead, and he assumed by the first scene it was going to be himself. Maybe this was a threesome?

He quickly scrolled back up to the story information, searching for the pairing section where he knew his questions would be answered. /OT7 x reader/

He flinched.

“All of us? What...?”. Did that mean everyone was a love interest? Or that the main character was supposed to screw all of them at once? How was that supposed to work if there was just one woman in the whole crew?

Oh wait...

The realization hit him. Of course, that was the whole plot. Seven guys and one girl, and they had to fight for her love? It was something like that for sure, wasn’t it? She would pick one of them and then they’d have sex. He kept reading—

«Your deepest darkest fantasies- the ones you always turned to on your most stressed and anxious nights - were the ones involving the entire crew. The idea of them finding out what a slut you were for them and passing you between them filled you with an embarrassing level of arousal. You would imagine them taking turns filling you until all your thoughts of loneliness and emptiness had been fucked out of you. And you would sleep like a baby.»

—or not...

He scratched his chin, a little confused now. Was this actually going to be gangbang? Or more importantly, was he actually going to read this till the end? He did like threesomes, not that he’d been in one... Yet. Their schedules hardly ever allowed them to properly date someone, and hooking up with a random stranger was way too risky with the level of fame they’d reached at this point. But the idea of threesomes was very appealing, although he’d never actually consider having a gangbang with all his members. However... he wasn’t going to cross off reading about one just yet.

Just as he was about to resume his reading, the door flew open and Jimin‘s face appeared. “Hyung!”

Hoseok jumped in his seat, his phone fell on his lap.

“Shit...!”, he took a deep breath and glared at his band member. “You almost gave me a heart attack, Jimin!”

A sly grin appeared on the youngest face.

“Why? What were you doing?”

Hoseok cleared his throat. Had he been discovered?

“Nothing”, he lied so poorly he wanted to smack himself on the face.

“You were totally reading it, weren’t you?”, Jimin chuckled. “Did you get to the video part already?”

“No, what video part?”

Jimin raised both palms.

“Sorry, not going to give you any spoilers”

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “Anyway... Why did you send it?” He asked, retrieving his phone and unlocking the screen again. “I thought we agreed on not doing that anymore”

“Yeah, but Taehyung send it to me”

“What?” Hoseok frowned, and turned around in his chair to face the boy. That was a surprise. “Why would he...?” He shook his head, sometimes Taehyung needn’t a reason to do the most random things.

Jimin simply shrugged.

“He also sent it to Jungkook and Namjoon-hyung”, Jimin ran his hand through his hair and giggled. “I think everyone is reading it now”

“Wait- What?!” Hoseok chuckled and raised an eyebrow. “Are you for real?”

“Haven’t you checked the group chat?”

“No, I was...” Hoseok pressed his tongue against his cheek. “-reading”.

“Huh”Jimin wiggled his eyebrows. “Is cool isn’t it?”

“Well, it’s ... interesting”, he conceded. Jimin let himself in and plopped down on the spare chair he kept in his studio in case he needed to work with the senior producers.

“Who do you think she’ll choose?”

“For what?”

“Come on, hyung.” Jimin snickered, “You know what I mean”

“Are you sure she is supposed to choose one of us?”

“What-? Obviously...”, Jimin shifted on the sofa, his face stared confused at Hoseok for a moment. But then he gasped, suddenly realizing what he mean. “Do you mean-? All of us?!”

“Why not?” Hoseok shrugged. “It’s just a story, anyways. You know some of our fans like kinky stuff and there’s nothing wrong with that”

“I mean! I know that! Its not-”. Jimin’s face turned a bright shade of red. “W-we shouldn’t be reading about that. What if they get... ideas!” He brought a hand to his forehead and looked back at him with a worried expression. Hoseok spluttered in a laugh, but it soon dwindled when he realized Jimin was actually serious about his concern.

“Jimin...”

“Goddamnit...!” Hoseok observed as his younger member stood up and facepalmed himself “I’m an idiot! I bet that was Taehyung’s plan all along”

“Taehyung’s plan was to have us... read fan-fiction?”

“About a gangbang!”

Hoseok rolled his eyes.

“It’s just fan fiction, Jimin. Not a proposition”, he said, but Jimin wasn’t paying attention to him anymore.

“The others can’t read that. I have to stop them”, and he was about to storm out the door, but Hoseok had to stop him.

“Hey, hey!”, he grabbed him by the elbow. “Now you’re just exaggerating”

“No, I’m not”, Hoseok couldn’t comprehend why Jimin was so scandalized. “We can’t have a gangbang, hyung!”

“No, no, no!”, he “First of all, no one is having a gangbang. Second of all, why does it bother you so much?”

“It doesn’t!”

“Really?”

“I just don’t want to be... I don’t want to share a partner with the six of you”

“Why, you’re worried she might like it too much and dump you?” Hoseok teased. However, upon seeing Jimin getting all self-conscious, the smile was erased from his face.

“Jimin, come on. You don’t really think that would happen”

“I don’t know, you are all good looking and mature, and more talented that-“

“Stop it. You are not less than us, stop beating yourself so much specially over a fictional situation. Do you forget who has the third largest fan base among us?”

“It because ARMY likes when I act all cute and pretty, and want to baby me like a child. I’m the cutie, the tiny one...”, his voiced turned into an almost whisper at the end. “I’m never the big... manly man...”

“Jimin...”

“What?”

“This isn’t about the story, is it?”

“No... yes- well, not this one...”, he paused, looking at his feet, bashfully. “It’s just the other stories...”

“What other stories?”, Hoseok asked, but Jimin just shrugged. “I don’t get it...”

“Ugh- hyung it’s nothing really”, he was quick to reply, standing up again. “You are right, I’m so over-reacting... it’s just a story”

“Okay...”, Hoseok leaned back in his chair and looked again at Jimin who was standing next to the door. Hands behind his back, like a child waiting to be scolded. “You sure that’s all?”

“Yep”, that extra ‘p’ sound at the end was enough evidence that he was lying. But he was also aware of Jimin’s uneasiness so it was probably better to let him off the hook for now.

“Well, then...”, Hoseok rubbed his neck. “I really should get back to work then”

Jimin gave him a short smile and left without saying another word. Hoseok turned around in his chair to face his computer and actually get some work before the day was over.

But maybe...ㅡHe glanced at his phone next to the mouseㅡ, just maybe... one more chapter wouldn’t hurt either.

[...]

It was past three am when he arrived back at the dorm. He usually wasn’t the one to stay overnight at the studio like Joonie and Yoongi-hyung. But time flew from his grasp like an oiled rope after he finished the first chapter and he had to stay late to finish his assignments. He didn’t want Pdogg-hyung to yell at him in their next briefing. However, the pull of the story was too strong for him to resist.

He had gone to sleep right away, and with the first light the next day he was already reaching for his cellphone and logging into the Tumblr account he had created just for this. He needed to know what happened next, story-Jimin had to be out of his mind to give the main character a video of him masturbating. It was a risky move, he wouldn’t think Jimin was capable of it in real life... Maybe Seokjin-hyung was shameless enough to pull that one out, and Taehyung...

“Yeah, probably Taehyung...”, he mused to himself as he propped himself down on his elbows.

“Probably Taehyung what?”, Jimin’s sleepy voice asked from his side of the room.

“Oh! Jiminie, did I wake you?”, Jimin shook his head and asked again what he meant by ‘probably Taehyung’. Hoseok sat on his bed and stretched his arms. “Nothing, it’s just this story...”

“Why do you keep reading it, hyung?”, Jimin groaned and covered his face with both palms in exhaustion. Hoseok simply chuckled, Jimin’s concerns where silly. Plus, he wasn’t going to deny himself the pleasure of a good story just because his roommate thought his best friend was trying to get them to have an orgy.

“We are not having a gangbang, just relax”

Jimin huffed but didn’t argue further.

A sudden nasal shriek shattered the morning’s quietness and reached their ears through the door. Hoseok almost jumped off his bed to Jimin’s, what on earth was that? It sounded like some kind of hysteric bird .

“First you send me that porn thing and then you wanna talk about gangbangs?! Gangbangs!!”

Okay, that hysteric bird sounded like Seokjin now. And by the volume of it, it was coming from the kitchen.

“It’s not like that, hyung! You don’t even listen!” And that was definitely Joon’s.

Hoseok exchanged confused glances with Jimin that soon turned into curious ones. As if on cue, both of them got up their beds and ran into the kitchen to check on their band members.

Namjoon was leaning on the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in one hand, the other scratching his forehead. Meanwhile Seokjin was beating some eggs in a plastic bowl, ranting about how much porn was acceptable in a household.

“It’s not porn! It’s basically literature!” Namjoon sounded as much fed up as he looked embarrassed. Seokjin let out a sarcastic chuckle.

“It’s porn! And you are a pervert!”

Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“If you could just read it-!”

“I have enough with the viruses that keep popping on the computer because of you shady search historial!” It was hilarious just listening to them arguing back and forth like and old married couple. But Hoseok was more curious about whether they were talking about what he though they were.

“Is this about the space story?”, he chimed in, resting his elbows on the marble island across Seokjin’s cooking station. Jimin climbed on a stool next to him.

“You too, now?”, Seokjin huffed, giving him and Jimin disgusted look. “Not that I’m surprised, considering your fascination with breeding cats”

“It was a cat-girl! And that was a mistake!” Hoseok’s ears suddenly burned. “But whatever...”

“Wait- So did you read it, or not?”, this time Namjoon was the one to speak.

“I am reading it, I’m on chapter two”, he replied and Jimin nodded along.

“Did you get to the video part right?”, Joon asked and before Hoseok had a chance to speak, Seokjin’s loud huff cut him off.

“Can I cook in peace without having to hear about how much you want a gangbang, pleaaaaase?”

“Com’on, hyung! I never said I wanted a gangbang!” Namjoon shot him a glare before turning back to Hoseok. His hands came to fondle with the fruit bowl in front of him.  “What I was trying to explain to this hyung is that I do think it’s an interesting guessing exercise for figuring out the extends of human behaviour in such adverse conditions”

“But you said you wanted to do it!”

“No! I said to explore it as in talk about it! WITH WORDS!”, Namjoon glared at their hyung, as a faint blush covered his cheeks. It was clear that “If you could’ve just listened for a moment instead of acting like a scandalized prude!”

“Yeah, hyung. It’s just a story, you are over reacting”, said Jimin, taking Hoseok by surprise considering all he had to say about it last night.

“Well, forgive me for not wanting a gangbang!”

“No one’s having a gangbang, for God’s sake!”

“I wouldn’t mind”, a fifth voice joined the conversation out of the blue and all the heads turned in the direction of the hallway.

Yoongi-hyung was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and messy bed hair. A slight frown hardening his features. He’d most likely woken up because all of the noise.

Seokjin let out a sarcastic chuckle.

“You too, Yoongi?”

“How long have you been standing there?”, Jimin asked. Yoongi shrugged off a yawn and walked over to grab an apple from the bowl Namjoon was holding. 

“It’s hard to keep sleeping with this hyung nagging so loud this early in the morning”, he pointed to his eldest and bit on the fruit.

“You know what?!”, Seokjin scoffed, and put aside all his cooking implements. “Y’all can make your own breakfast! Seriously...”

And walked away.

“So noisy...”, Yoongi mumbled as he munched on his apple.

“You read it too, hyung?”, Namjoon asked. Yoongi turned to him, leaning on his elbows. Hoseok’s eyes betrayed him as they followed Yoongi’s movements and the way he arched his back, lifting his ass in the air so subtly.

“Since Tae shared it in the group chat I figured I should give it a try”, he shrugged seemingly desinterestedm, but Hoseok knew him better than that. Yoongi liked to pretende he didn’t care about stuff other that making music, but it was clear to him by the way he was behaving, that the older rapper had enjoyed the story a little bit too much. “It was good”.

“You’re only saying that because you are not the main character”, said Jimin.

“At least I’m not the character that gave the girl a video of me jerking off”

“First of all, she asked! and second, you messed up big time keeping that memory card, hyung!”

Yoongi sneered at the younger boy. 

“I got her off, you didn’t”

“Wait, what are you-?”

Jimin’s face turned a bright red, his nosetrils flared. Namjoon just chocked a laugh, almost knocking off the fruit bowl. For a moment, Hoseok only stared in confussion at them. He couldn’t recall something like that happening in the story yet and he realized they were probably far ahead of him. 

“Hey! Don’t give me any spoilers! I haven’t reached that part yet”.

But Yoongi and Jimin just ignored him, continuing their teasing banter.

“I don’t think she’ll forgive you. EVER!”

“She was thinking of me while fucking you”

“At least I got to- to... be with her!”

“You can’t even say fuck without blushing. Space-Jimin is lightyears ahead of you”, a smug grin appeared in Yoongi’s face, clearly pleased with his joke and Jimin’s fuming face.

“That’s a bit rich coming from you, hyung”, Namjoon said with a smirk. “I mean, last time I checked you couldn’t even look at Halsey in her training clothes without turning red as a beetroot”

“That’s-!”, Yoongi coughed, a bite of the apple going the wrong way. Suddenly matching Jimin with his red cheeks. “That’s different!”

“Neither one of you would ever dare to act like the way the author portraits you. Just admit it”, Namjoon snickered. “You don’t have what it takes”.

“Oh, and you do?”

“I’m just saying if the seven of us where trapped in a spaceship and there’s just one woman for miles and miles...”, He crossed his arms, chin raised proudly. “I’m guessing you’d be too shy to get her attention”.

“It’s not a competition, anyway. It’s a story and it has already been written”, argued Yoongi. “And I was her first choice”.

“Technically it was Hobi”, Jimin pointed out. “She was so ready to throw herself over him in that lab scene”.

“Well Hobi doesn’t count here because he did nothing”

“Excuse me?”, Hoseok scoffed. “Clearly I’m the best character, unlike others I’m actually being professional”.

“Yeah, right. Professional until Yoongi-hyung tells you he screwed the main character”, Taehyung popped up from behind him making Hoseok shriek in surprise, followed closely by a sleepy-faced Jungkook.

“You little-! You almost killed me!”, Taehyung only laughed, joining the his chuckling hyungs.

“And he didn’t screw anything- anyone!”, said Jimin.

“Well, his fingers did”.

“Stop talking!”, Hoseok shoved Taehyung aside and shook his head. “You’ve already spoiled the story for me enough as it is! At least let me finish the chapters before we talk about this”.

“Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t talk about it before breakfast”, Namjoon scratched his chin. “Gguk, go tell Jin-hyung he can come back now”.

“Why, was he here?” asked Jungkook. 

“He left because he didn’t what to have a gangbang”, Yoongi answered, almost offended, like he was telling Jungkook his hyung had turned down some fishing trip.

Jungkook’s eyes where suddendly wide open.

“What-?!”

“It’s the story, nevermind!”, Jimin waved a hand in the air in dismissal.

“Wait, so we can’t have a gangbang?”

“Are you serious right now, hyung?”, Jimin gave Yoongi the side eye. His hyung response was simply shrugging.

“I like to keep my options open”.

“Yeah, maybe one thing you shouldn’t keep open is your mouth”. 

The group erupted in laughter at Jimin’s witty comeback. Yoongi raised the hand that held half an apple and pretended to throw it at Jimin’s head, only to join the laughter when the dancer fell from his chair by his motion.

Hoseok chuckled and shook his head. 

What a way to start the day.

. . . .