#sorry for posting these two so much they are occupying all of my brain

[pleasurebuttonwrites]

Getting to Know Jake Lockley's Massive Cock

Jake Lockley x f!Reader | Explicit 18+ | 5.5K

Summary: You are a fic writer in the marvel universe living in New York where Moon Knight, and of course, Jake Lockley are real. His identity, as well as Marc's and Steven's are public. You write for the fandom, primarily for Jake. He joins tumblr...and reads your fics.

Warnings: smut, oral, p in v, unprotected, cream pie, breeding

A/N: I had so much fun writing this one. If I had more time I would have created fun edits for the parts where there are tumblr posts and messages and such, but I really wanted to post this already. Also, sorry about the Spanish, I don't speak it. If it bothers you too much, give me a shout, and let me know what I should change it to and I'll fix it!

~~~

It was always the same. When you finish a story and are about to post it the nerves kick in and you hesitate to hit the button. You shake yourself, literally, and post it before you could talk yourself out of it.

You refresh the page and there it is, first post on your dash under your url: jake-lockley-is-my-husband. You know if you don’t distract yourself, you’ll obsessively check for any interactions with it. So you close out and find something else to do.

You manage to occupy yourself until it’s time for bed, and you just can’t resist checking. You have dozens of likes, a few reblogs, and two lovely comments that you reply to before going to bed. All-in-all not too bad.

When you wake up the next morning you can’t wait to check again and when you open tumblr your first thought is that there must be a glitch. You have thousands of notifications. You try to sort through your activity but it’s a complete mess. Fics you posted months ago are suddenly getting interacted with, and random other posts too. But your top post is the fic you posted yesterday. You scroll through the comments:

No way it’s really him.

New celebrity tumblr just dropped.

Man of the people!

You go to the reblogs to figure out just what the fuck these people are talking about and click view post on the most recent. You scroll through a chain of reblogs until you get to the first one.

It’s from a blog called jake-lockleys-massive-cock. It says:

dios mio that was hot! i love the way you write me. it’s kinda eerie how spot on you are. #my wife knows me so well #fic rec

Your brain practically malfunctions. Was-was-was that, was that, was that…?????

You go to his bio. His pfp is a picture of Jake Lockley and he’s written:

hola, me llamo jake lockley the handsome third of the superhero known as moon knight. he/him. some say man of the people. according to fics written about me: lover extraordinaire. here to read said fics. if you write for me, tag me 😉

It was some kind of joke, right? It had to be. You scroll through his blog. He’d been busy in the last five hours, replying to asks about his identity to which he provided pictures of himself. Pictures that people were quick to point out weren’t anywhere else on the internet. Others of course still doubted it, but you were starting to be convinced. Or maybe you just wanted to be convinced. But that would mean that Jake Lockley had read your smut about himself.

You don’t know how to respond directly to him so instead you make a new post:

Oh my god you can’t do this to me when I’m asleep. Did jake lockley just comment on my fic? No right? Am I still dreaming? #freaking the fuck out

You step away because it’s just too much. Notifications are still coming in and you don’t know how to reply to any of them. Later, at work, at random moments you’ll think about it and it’ll shock you all over again. This potent mix of excitement and fear courses through you. Fear because all of the attention is damn scary. You scroll through your asks on your break and there is some hate in there. Some of it just random hate that seems to come with getting attention. But some of it clearly borne of jealousy that Jake had singled out your fic.

You consider turning off anon, but some of your best requests had come from people on anon. And you don’t want to end that. You think about replying to the hate but you barely have time to reply to all the nice comments. Instead you block the bad and focus on the good. You can’t get to it all, but you’ll try.

You still can’t work up the nerve to reply to him directly - if it really is him anyway.

-

You’re still trying to manage your inbox days later when you see a request come through. You were planning on closing them since you’d gotten so many new ones and needed time to get to them all. This new request is from jake-lockleys-massive-cock. Your heart is practically beating in your throat as you read it.

are you avoiding me? seems like you answer all your requests so here’s one: jake (that’s me) gives you a cream pie and fingers it back into you with my gloves on.

You realize just how much you believe it’s the real him by how wet you get from this request. You try and try and try to temper yourself, but your imagination gets the best of you and for a few hours as you fulfill this ask you live in a world where not only is Jake Lockley requesting smut about himself from you, but he’s actually giving you a cream pie and fingering it back into you with his gloves on.

-

I would never avoid my husband. That’s preposterous. Go Time Summary: Trying for a baby, your ovulation window comes up and Jake’s busy driving around. You go meet him and fuck right there in his cab. A/N: not the way ovulation tests work but idc You’d gotten the smiley face. It was on a stick you’d just dipped into your pee, but still it made you incredibly fucking happy. You immediately reached for your phone and called up your husband. It went straight to voicemail, but that was common when he was working. You left him a brief message: “It’s go time.” You don’t have to wait long for a response. He’s good about checking his messages in between fares. You pick up. “Jake Lockley, are you ready to put a baby in me?” “Mi vida, no puedo esperar a esta noche.” [Can't wait for tonight] “No, not tonight. Now. We’ve missed the window the past three months because something always comes up. I want to do this now.” “It would take me hours to get home with the way traffic is right now.” “So…let me come to you.” You take the subway and meet him in one of the sub-levels of a parking garage. It’s full but he doesn’t need a space and everyone is already in their offices so no one is around. Jake’s double parked in one of the darker corners, leaning against his yellow cab. You thread your arms around him in a hug and he pulls you closer burying his face in your neck. Being close to your husband like this still never fails to turn you on. And knowing that you’re about to try for a baby with him just takes it through the roof. He slides his hands into the back pocket of your jeans, giving your ass a little squeeze. Your lips meet his and it’s all a rush from there. He opens the door to the backseat, ushering you in, trying not to break the kiss. On your back he pulls off your jeans, muttering, “...should’ve worn a fucking skirt.” He gets in and pulls his pants down his thighs freeing his cock, already leaking precum. You can’t help but lick it off. “No, no, baby. This load’s going between your legs.” He pulls you into a straddle on his lap and drags the head of his cock through your folds. “Already so wet for me.” You’d taken him so many times before but it still took you a minute to get used to his size. You sank slowly down over him letting the thickness of his cock give you that delicious stretch. Soon though you’re bouncing on him like a pro and he’s pulling your shirt down to free your tits and mouthing at them while your cunt soaks his lap. He knows you. Knows you better than you know yourself. No matter how much you rock and shimmy your hips, somehow you just can’t hit that spot like he can. He knows this, of course, so he takes your hips and angles you and pulls you down onto him. It doesn’t take long after that. Those pretty sounds and the way your cunt squeezes his cock so good have him right there with you. You cum together, his seed coating your walls so thoroughly, there’s no way you won’t get pregnant from this. Unless you let it all leak out. He at least as the presence of mind to get you on your back to help keep it in. He watches as some of his cum drips out of your spent hole and without a thought, he gathers it on his gloved fingertip - in his haste he hadn’t taken off his driving gloves - and pushes it back inside you - deep inside you. He does this over and over again, making sure his cum stays in, ushering it back with his thick fingers, up to your cervix. His thumb slides over your clit and the tips of his fingers inside you are coaxing you toward your next release. You want him to fuck you again. To make the most of your ovulation window. “Do you think we could go again?” He slips his fingers out, only leaving you empty for a mere moment before he fills you up with his cock. “Mi vida, I’m not stopping until you can’t hold one more drop.”

The words pour out of you. Never before have you had such inspiration to write a story. You’re awash in the glow of post-writing when you realize that now you have to post it. For Jake (if it’s really him) to see. You just wrote filthy smut for your celebrity crush. By his request, but still.

Normally you look over it for a quick proofread/revision before putting it out there for the world to see. But you’re pretty sure you’ll change your mind if you don’t just post it as is. So you add a note to the A/N section and send it off into the abyss of the internet.

You want to log off. Go do something, anything else. But the thought of someone else seeing his reply before you do makes you seethe with jealousy. So you stay connected and obsessed and watch for replies.

You’re still getting a stream of notifications so you ignore those and refresh the page with your post every few seconds to start, and then only every 30 seconds. You get some likes, then some comments and reblogs. You don’t even read them when you see they’re not from him.

Finally after what seems like forever, but is really about ten minutes judging by the timestamps, he replies.

i didn’t know i had a breeding kink until just now. you’re a goddamn genius. also my cock is way bigger than you described.

While you’re still recovering from this praise, you get a dm from him. You have to take some deep breaths before you open it.

Jake: do you know you’re my favorite writer? would you like to see a pic of my cock, you know, for inspiration?

You: Wait. Are you serious?

Jake: yeah, i love all your work.

You: NO, about the other thing.

Jake: only if you promise not to share it. it’s only for you.

You: I promise. If you’re not comfortable though, it’s all good.

Jake: ok, here it is.

The pic comes through and it is indeed a massive cock. Just not the kind you were hoping for. It’s a very large rooster. Like a rooster photoshopped to be huge.

You: 🙄🙄🙄

You: You know if I had really expected you to send one I’d be disappointed right now.

Jake: sorry, cariño. i’m looking at the dick pic i took and now i'm thinking i’ve over-promised what i have. 😰

You: I can promise you that I will like it, but there’s no pressure to send anything.

The dots appear and disappear a few times as you await his response. You’re about to change the subject, when his reply pops up.

Jake: está bien, look what your fic did to me.

And a second later a picture of the finest cock you’d ever seen. You waste no time replying, wanting to reassure him that you indeed love it.

You: oh fuuuuuuuck 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

You: Is this really yours?

Jake: you’ll just have to trust me 😈

It does its job and inspires you. You feel inspired all night long. But you don’t write one word.

-

You’ve never spent so much time on tumblr as you do for the next few days. You dm with Jake a little bit, but he’s a busy man and you only get to talk for a few minutes here and there. You’re addicted to his blog though. He’s reblogging so many fics and answering asks. You’re pretty sure he has his queue set up and he just blasts these things in the few minutes he probably gets to spend on here.

On a tender Marc x Reader fic where Marc opens up about his past and then has emotional sex with the reader, he’s commented:

that’s pretty good, but marc cries more during sex.

And on a Steven x Reader fic where the reader is dominant, taking what she wants from Steven and pegs him:

this was fucking hot, but steven would be hard from the moment you looked at him. if your hand is down his pants, he’s already at full attention. #why is it always steven who gets pegged? #i feel left out

Someone asks him if Steven and Marc are also on tumblr and he replies that they don’t even know that he’s on here.

It’s shameful how often you look at his dick pic. He hasn’t asked you to, but you want to return the favor. You spend some time taking a good pic of your tits and you want to send it to him, but you have to figure out how to broach the subject with him.

He’s just caused a stir by posting:

thinking about getting a cat now.

And after lots of comments with suggestions on what to name the cat, he creates a poll.

He dm’s you with the question:

Jake: can you explain to me why everyone wants me to have a cat?

You: We can just tell you’re good with pussy 😏

Jake: jajaja, so you don’t know either

You: Forget it, Jake. It’s Fandomtown.

Jake: !!!!

Jake: one of my fav movies

Since you’re the queen of non-sequiturs, you write

You: Hey, could I send you something?

Jake: like…in the mail? 🤔

You: Uh, no. Like a picture? Of me?

Jake: absolutely! i’d love to see your face.

You: Welllll it’s not of my face

Jake: you have my attention

You: It’s a tit pic. Is that ok?

Jake:

You take a deep breath and remind yourself that he’s a guy and guys like tits. You send it to him and the one second that ticks by before he’s typing makes your heart skip a beat.

Jake: 🍆💦💦💦

Jake: tan hermosa. quiero tocar y besar y lamer y chupar y poner mi cara en ellas [So beautiful. I want to touch and kiss and lick and suck and put my face in them]

Jake: if i stop responding i want you to know it’s because i'm stroking my cock while drooling over your tits.

You: That’s perfect. It’ll give me some time alone with your dick pic.

Jake: dffdsdsadsajkl you’re trying to kill me woman

-

It’s strange how something so incredible can become so normal in the span of days, but it’s hard to remember what it was like before Jake was being a menace in the fandom. Not that it wasn’t still exciting, every post, every comment, every ask. But you no longer had to pinch yourself to prove it was real.

In fact it was so usual, it felt strange when he seemed to disappear for a few days. You missed him, but you didn’t wonder about it too much. He was a busy man, a superhero, a cabbie and shared a body with two other whole people.

His absence gave you some time to catch up on your tbr list, reply to comments and get to requests. You’re in the middle of an engaging back and forth on a thread when you get a request on anon.

can i request a fic of reader holding jake (preferably against your perfect tits) as he cries?

It’s him. You know it’s him. Was he even trying to disguise himself? You sprint to your dms.

You: Everything ok, buddy?

Jake: whatever do you mean? 😇

You: 🤨 Ok, ok, brb.

You get to work right away.

Get Closer to Me It’s later than the usual time that your husband, Jake, comes home. He always tells you not to wait up for him, but you struggle to fall asleep without him so you might as well stay up watching TV. You’re in one of his T-shirts. It smells like him and the soft cotton caresses your bare skin underneath. Finally you hear the click of his key opening the lock. He steps over the threshold, tired from his night of protecting the city. Something’s wrong. You can tell by the way he doesn’t meet your eyes. If not for the protection of his suit, you’d fear he’d been hurt. He lets you lead him over to the couch where you sit him down. You take off his shoes for him and then sit back. As soon as your ass touches the cushion, he throws his arms around your middle and buries his face in your chest. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when you feel his body shuddering with sobs. As much as you rely on his strength, it’s times like this when he trusts you with his vulnerability that makes you feel closest to him. You cherish the moments you get to be his rock. A wet spot blooms between your breasts, soaking in his tears. You run your hands through his hair, using your other hand to graze your nails on his back. You lay together in the stillness and silence of the night until his breath calms and his grip on you eases. You kiss the top of his head and he shifts, nosing the space between your breasts and placing a hand beneath your shirt, traveling over your ribs to squeeze at your flesh. “Jaaake?” you ask lightly, drawing out his name. “Hmmm?” he replies. “What are you doing?” From where his face is firmly planted in your chest, comes his muffled answer, “It’s soothing.” Your body shakes with laughter and relief. If he’s fondling your tit, he’s back to his usual self. There’ll be time tomorrow for talking about what was bothering him. But for now, it was time to take your husband to bed.

You’ve never written or posted something so fast. Before you can even tag him by adding your tag list in a reblog, he’s reblogged it with the comment:

THAT’S WHERE YOU CUT IT OFF?! #why are my eyes suddenly wet #boobies make everything better #currently accepting hugs

Then you get a dm:

Jake: gracias, cariño. i’m feeling much better. 🥹

You: Glad I could help! ❤️

-

One thing that you and Jake had bonded over was being New Yorkers. Despite not having it in your bio, Jake could tell you were one based on your posts. He messages you that he’ll be in town in just a few days.

You: Are you excited to be coming home?

Jake: i’m more excited to be closer to you.

Wait. Was Jake actually flirting with you?

Jake: do you think i could meet you while i’m there?

Holy shit holy shit holy shit. For the first time in a while you worry that maybe this guy isn’t really Jake. Because it’s not possible that Jake Lockley wants to meet you, right?

When you don’t respond, he messages:

Jake: no pressure if you’re not comfortable.

You: No, I’d love to meet you. It’s just… you could be anyone on the other side of this screen.

Jake: ah. would you like to chat on video?

He gives you his number and you take a few short minutes to freshen up and find a spot with good lighting before you video call him. He picks up right away, his smile lighting up the screen.

“Cariño, eres muy bonita,” he croons. [You are so pretty]

You put a hand over your face in embarrassment.

“No, no, no, don’t cover that pretty face!”

He’s walking around his place, the background shifting behind him as he moves around.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Packing.” He sets up his phone and holds up two pairs of pants. “What do you think? Tight jeans or grey sweats?”

He’s rendered you completely speechless, your mouth is hanging open but no sounds come out.

“¿Por qué no los dos?” He shoves both in his suitcase and picks up his phone, but before he can continue his conversation with you, his attention is drawn to something or someone off camera. You don’t hear anyone but Jake listens with a stony face, then rolls his eyes.

“Lo siento, cariño. I have to go.”

“Was that Khonshu?” you ask, all amazement.

“Unfortunately. See you in a few days?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

You hear him start to yell, presumably at Khonshu, as he hangs up the call.

-

Jake: no don’t send me your address.

Jake: if i find out you give random people online your address i’m going to be mad. you should care more about your safety.

You were texting with Jake, trying to make plans to meet up and though it would be convenient to have him at your place, he doesn’t want to put you at risk. If an enemy of his sees him there, your place would be compromised.

You: Oh, but it’s ok if I send a random person on the internet a picture of my tits?

Jake: uh, yeah, your tits are beautiful, you should share them with the world.

You’d managed to fend off the nerves until the day of. Now as you make your way to the intersection you’d agreed to meet at, your heart feels like one of those huge timpani drums and like a gorilla is erratically banging on it.

There’s a crush of people and tourists on the sidewalks and you’re not sure how you’re supposed to find him. Though you are like extra super early, so perhaps he’s just not here yet.

As you scan across the street, you walk by a line of yellow cabs - and nearly walk right past him. He’s leaning against his car, flat cap pulled down covering his face, and gloved hands holding a newspaper. He’s reading a newspaper. An actual goddamn newspaper of all things.

He lowers it when you stop in front of him. His eyes scan you and a smile spreads on his lips. “Would you like a ride, señorita?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

He folds up his paper and tosses it into the passenger seat through the open window, then opens the back door for you. For a moment you’re worried he doesn’t recognize you, but then you step toward the door and his hand is on your lower back guiding you into his car. He leans down to your ear to tell you it’s nice to meet you and that you look beautiful today.

You’re too caught up to reply. Up close his brown eyes are even deeper and richer than you could have imagined. His touch is gentle and comforting but the strength in him is unmistakable. And best of all his scent, sharp and heady, his cologne a perfect complement.

Your body still tingles from his touch as he circles around from the back and slides into the driver’s seat. As soon as he shuts his door, it feels like the two of you are in a little bubble. He meets your eyes in the rearview mirror. “Sorry about the pretense. Can’t be too careful these days. Never quite know who’s watching.”

“That’s okay,” you try to say, but it comes out in a croak. You clear your throat, embarrassment racing up your neck. “So, um, where are we headed? Your place?”

He pulls out into the flow of traffic, and glances in the mirror at you. “We don’t keep a place here. When we visit we usually stay with a friend.”

You wonder if you should be jealous of this friend until you realize he probably means…”Frenchie?”

Jake barks out a laugh. “I’m so glad you all use your powers for smut. If any one of you became a villain we’d be so fucked.”

“‘So fucked’ is kind of what I’m going for.” You can’t believe you said that out loud. Apparently you have no control over your mouth when your panties are soaked.

Jake doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, though you are busy admonishing yourself in the backseat, it doesn’t stop you from catching the way he bites his lip and tightens his grip on the wheel.

Before you can restart the conversation, Jake pulls into a parking deck underneath a hotel and slips into a spot. Was-was he recreating your fic?

You stay in the back as he gets out. He comes around to your door and you expect him to climb in but instead he offers you his hand.

“We’re not staying in the car?” you ask him as you take his hand and he pulls you out.

Amusement flickers in his eyes. “No, cariño. Cab sex is hot in theory but there’s not nearly enough room for what I have planned.”

You’re thankful to still be holding onto him because your knees go weak at that.

As you wait for the elevator, it occurs to you that you don’t know for sure that this is Jake Lockley. Like the real Jake Lockley. There were known to be lookalikes that posed as various superheroes. What if you’d been duped by one?

You’re quiet in the elevator. And through the grand lobby of the hotel complete with a fountain. And when Jake nods to the man dressed very nicely at the reception desk and says, “Buenas tardes, Eduardo.” And when the man returns the nod and says, “Señor Lockley.” And when Eduardo looks right at you and Jake says, “This is [your name].”

You don’t speak until Jake has opened the door to his hotel room and you hesitate before crossing the threshold and you blurt out, “How do I know you’re you?”

His eyebrows lift in surprise. “How do any of us know who we are?”

God, he’s funny and charming. Even if this turns out not to be the real Jake Lockley, you might fuck him anyway.

“No, I mean how do I know you’re actually you. You look like Jake, but you could be some impersonator, right?”

“Oh, I see.” He ponders for a moment. “If you’re comfortable coming into the room, perhaps I could show you something.”

You still hesitate.

“Okay. No. Good,” he says. “You have a survival instinct after all. Here, I’m going to go in. You watch from the door, but only open it enough for you to see in, okay?”

You nod and Jake goes in and you hold the door open just enough like he said. He turns around and while turning, his clothing appears to morph into a black and white suit, complete with a cape that you know only too well. Your jaw drops open because it’s one thing to see it from a recording where your brain is used to seeing all manner of crazy CGI. But it’s another to witness it right in front of your own two eyes.

You rush in, letting the door close behind you. “Oh my god,” you gush. “Can you keep it on?”

He embraces you and delivers a kiss that feels completely natural like the two of you have done this hundreds of times before, but also nothing like you’ve ever experienced. And maybe that’s one and the same. His breath is minty, and you swear he’s wearing cherry chapstick.

“That will defeat the point, won’t it?,” he says. “This thing doesn’t have a zipper. Besides, it’s really itchy.”

He transforms back while you’re still in his arms, and you have to admit you like him better this way anyway.

It’s not anything like your fics and that makes it magical. There’s more fumbling and laughter and friction. He’s not some love god and you’re not a siren. But there is desire, and it is real.

-

That One Night Summary: When your date stands you up, but you’re lucky that it happens in the same bar that Jake Lockley frequents. A/N: Special shoutout for the inspiration, you know who you are You’re in Jake Lockley’s hotel room. In the bed. And you’ve just laid eyes on the swollen spear he calls a penis. Your gulp is cartoonishly loud, and your legs press together like they’re Shaggy and Scooby in a haunted mansion. “Don’t worry, cariño. I’m going to get you really wet,” Jake says, crawling on the bed toward you and gently prying your legs open. He settles his face between them and when his tongue touches your clit, your legs fall all the way open and you sink into the bed. You marvel at the way your night has gone. From getting stood up, to trading looks with the hot stranger across the bar, to now being in said stranger’s - no he told you his name, so technically he’s not a stranger anymore - bed. He lifts his mouth off of you and you whine in protest, but he shushes you and a fingertip circles your entrance before dipping gently in. He goes slow, tantalizingly, excruciatingly slow. He works you until you can take two of his thick fingers, then his lips return to suck gently on your swollen nub. He didn’t lie. You are soaking wet, the puddle beneath you more like a lake. You’re at the edge when he asks, “Do you want your first orgasm on my fingers or my dick?” Your body doesn’t give you a choice, the image of either sending you over, and you clench down so hard on his fingers, he mutters, “Fuck.” He sweetly kisses his way up your body as you come down. Planting them on the soft skin of your belly and spending his time covering every inch of your breasts. He ignores your pleas to be fucked, waiting instead until your breathing slows and the coil inside you relaxes. You look up into his deep brown eyes and caress his face, wanting to know this man, his story, his life, what brought him to you tonight. “Ready?” he asks, and you nod. Despite how slippery you are, he’s still big enough for you to feel the stretch. He eases himself into you, breathless praises falling from his mouth. “Doing so good for me.” “You’re taking me so well.” “Tu cuerpo me maneja tan bien.” [Your body handles me so well] When he’s reached your depths, he stays there, letting you get adjusted around him. “Why don’t you show me how you like to play with your tits?” he suggests. You’re self-conscious at first but he watches you, hypnotized, while you tug at your nipples and knead your flesh. It relaxes your pelvic floor enough that Jake can fuck into you. Gently, until he learns how far into you he can go. He’s like a fucking paperweight inside you and you tell him so. “It feels even better from behind,” he informs you. And that’s how you find yourself on your knees, Jake behind you, his heavy cock dragging across your G-spot back and forth with every thrust, the pressure building up until it’s nearly blinding, your legs shaking so bad that he has to hold you up, which is a good thing because your body goes limp when your release comes, and then his cock is jumping inside you (‘twitching’ is too tame for what this monster can do), his spend replacing the weight of him. The bed is soaked, your legs are a sticky mess, and the night is just beginning.

The writing came easy but you debate posting, wavering between wanting to keep your experience to yourself and knowing that no one but you and Jake would know the truth. Ultimately, since you had kept the most personal parts out of the fic and it felt somewhat removed from the real thing, gussied up as it was to be smut-worthy, you decide that you want to share it, and as usual, you click the damn button before you could change your mind.

You wait a while before checking the interactions. This time not caring as much what other people would say, or whether anyone would read it at all. There is only one person’s feedback you’re interested in. And it’s there the next time you open tumblr:

sounds like a really good time. like something i’d like to do again.

[zorangezest]

haha heyyyy [THROWS SOUNDWAVE AND BEE AT YOU] [THROWS SOUNDWAVE AND BEE AT YOU] [THROWS SOUNDWAVE AND BEE AT YOU]

cat dad, puppy son!!

[decaflondonfog]

thinking of kent parson and the aces and all that symbolism... and specifically the ace of spades, which often mirrors the death card in tarot... kent parson as the bringer of death, kent parson as the something that jack needs to leave behind, to let die, so he can start again, so change can happen, so he can become his best self

kent parson knowing he is that to jack but not being able to fully accept it... MY. GOD.

[bobzora]

yeah femc has some really solid romance routes but i just cannot be assed to care too much because there are some crazy level yuri goings on in this game

[azurelyy]

Let's see if I've been shadowbanned by tumblr for not posting in forever. Also, let's see if this gets flagged for me not knowing the TOS anymore LOL. I know most of my followers are here for Naruto content and I am so sorry that this fucking vampire elf has taken over my brain so much that he's the first thing I've written about in forever!

Title: A Bloody Affair

WARNINGS: NSFW beneath the cut. Period oral. F!reader. Astarion goes feral. Fem!reader. Established relationship and slight Act II spoilers. This is just a drabble(ish... I got carried away lmao), but I haddddd to. I’m aware this has been done to death (no pun intended).

His vermillion eyes were darker than usual as you all sat around the firelight, enjoying a hot meal after an unusually hard day of travel. Specks of orange flickered in his gaze like shooting stars through Avernus’ red-hot sky. His hands were tightened into leadened fists by his sides, his lips formed together in a thin line. He’s hungry, and he’s not even trying to hide it.

Amused, you tilted your head to the side, exposing the faded bite marks from when you last allowed him to feed on you a few weeks ago.

“Everything alright, Astarion?” You hummed. “You look pale. Well, paler than normal.”

Astarion laughed, a dark and twisted thing that left your stomach in knots. Would you ever learn to stop teasing him? It only ends badly for you. Every. Time.

“Me? Oh, I’m just fine.” His eyes slowly trailed down your body, locking onto your midsection before flicking back to your face. “You, however,” his fangs glistened in the pale moonlight as he smiled. “You look a little… hot. Too close to the fire, perhaps? Your cheeks are absolutely flushed, my dear.”

And they were. Knowing what the two of you had agreed to out on the battlefield earlier. Awaiting the moment everyone else fell into a deep slumber while you had to sit there, your thighs clamped together as thoughts of Astarion’s tongue ravishing at your core filled your head… It was torturous. Worse than anything Loviatar could come up with.

Karlach scoffed and playfully covered her ears. “Guys! No flirting around the bonfire, pleeeease. It’s hard enough I’ve gone so long without touching someone. I can’t sit here listening to you two flirt all night on top of it.”

You laughed and whispered a soft 'sorry' while Astarion merely hummed his acknowledgement. The rest of the evening was a blur, your mind occupied elsewhere entirely. Finally, when the sounds of snores filled the air and the last of the firelight flickered away, you got up from your bedroll and slowly made your way to Astarion’s tent.

The flap was left partially open and you found Astarion fumbling with a book. He looked distracted, almost like he wasn't reading it at all. The moment you got to the tent entrance, his eyes were upon you - dark, hungry, lustful. You smiled, heat creeping its way up your neck and cheeks, as Astarion swiftly closed the book and tossed it aside.

“Don’t tell me I have to invite you in, darling,” he drawled. “Come here.”

He reached his hand out and you took it gently as he guided you to sit down in his lap. He sighed and nosed his way up the side of your neck, gently swiping his tongue along your still-healing fang marks. His arm wrapped around your midsection, pushing your back against his chest. He's cold, and a small shiver snaked its way down the entirety of your spine as he chuckled a low, "Sorry, pet."

Sweet kisses made their way from your neck to your jaw, until Astarion gently nipped at your earlobe, his free hand slowly roamed up and down your body, squeezing and grabbing at your stomach playfully.

You moaned gently, running your fingers through his silver locks. Astarion's breath hitched in his throat and he slid his hand down to your thigh. His arousal poked into your ass and you rocked in his lap gently; teasingly. His hand became more desperate as he grabbed at your thigh, thrusting his hips gently. You turned your head and ghost your lips over his, meeting his gaze.

His tongue clicked against his teeth as he stared at you. You twisted his hair round your index finger and smile up at him wantonly. The two of you hadn't been intimate since his confession a few weeks ago. You have let him feed on you since then, but never initiate anything sexual. You wanted him to do it. Wanted for it to be organic. He was the best thing that had happened to you in a long time, and you wanted him to know it; to feel it; to be unable to deny your love for him.

Astarion kissed your forehead tenderly, his sweet mouth cool to the touch against your heated skin. He had been surprisingly gentle with you since his confession. Weary, you knew. He had to fight against his instincts every day, doing what he could to unlearn his past behaviors of doing someone else's bidding. It was going to take time, you knew that. You were okay with it. But when he looked at you like this, when he kissed you softly, it made your heart melt completely. You loved him. You'd never say it first, of course, but the feeling was undeniable to you now. Gods, he was going to fucking ruin you.

His mouth captured yours in a searing kiss. His tongue parted your lips and hungrily dominated the kiss as Astarion flipped you over, pushing you down onto his bedroll. His hands were everywhere - in your hair, on your stomach, rolling down your sides. Yours did the same, needily pawing at his body as you wrapped a leg around his waist and gently clawed at his shirt trying to get it off.

He broke away, his tongue sliding from your mouth slowly. His breathing was ragged, not as controlled as it had been in the past. You realized he's letting go, not forcing himself with you. He's being... real. It's so sweet you nearly ruined the moment by blurting out a stupid confessional right then, but as if sensing your anxiety, Astarion simply smirked devilishly.

"You look beautiful," he whispered. "And you smell even better. I'm going to enjoy tasting you tonight." His voice was sultry and hypnotic, practically intoxicating. You squirmed under him nervously as he adjusted to his knees and leaned over to unhook the latch of the tent, leaving you both immersed in nothing but the flickering candle light.

He was back over you in an instant, untucking his shirt from his trousers and over his head, tossing it to the corner of the tent. His body never ceases to amaze you. His skin is made of pure moonlight, pale and annoyingly perfect, with abs that would put even the most acclaimed gods to shame. Astarion winked and pushed his knee to your inner thigh, spreading you open like a tome as his hands glided across your body.

Your heart thundered within your chest as he stripped you of your undershirt, delicately removing the straps like a present. The sting of the cold night air hit your exposed nipples and they puckered from the temperature change. Astarion's practiced hands moved up the length of your arms, guiding them up above your head and he captured your wrists together in his grip, trapping you under him.

He kissed his way down your temple, your cheek, your neck; gently licking his way down your exposed flesh until his tongue rolled around your areola teasingly.

You glanced down and met his burgundy gaze. His pupils were completely blown out with lust and he continued watching you as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, allowing his tongue to swipe over it gingerly. With a loud gasp you closed your eyes, letting the sensation of his tongue completely overwhelm you. His hand dragged its way from your wrists and his thumb and index finger grip your other nipple as he suckles hard, causing your hips to buck and another garbled moan to fall from your traitorous throat.

A wet 'pop' echoed through the tent as his mouth released you. Astarion growled, actually growled, as he slid his hands up your arms again and gripped your wrists, harder this time.

"Hush now, my sweet," his words were sugary but his tone commanding. "I don't want you waking the whole campground. If you do it again, I'll have to force you to be quiet. Understood?"

You nodded in response.

"Sorry, Starry," you whispered. 

He had started making work of dragging your trousers down the length of your legs but stopped abruptly at your apology.

"Don't be sorry, love," he said. "Just don't do it again."

You were way past the point of being turned on - you were practically going mad with arousal as he removed your pants and slowly kissed his way down the length of your stomach. You kept your hands placed above your head, nervous about what he may do if you dared to touch him. It was exhilarating. Filthy. The blood at your core was dripping to the rag placed between your thighs and your pulse quickened as Astarion's mouth worked its way towards your cunt.

Lust-stricken and dizzy, your vision blurred as he gently pulled down your panties with his index fingers, testing you. He was working slowly, playing with his food. Such a tease.

You squirmed beneath him and clenched the muscles in your thighs, eagerly anticipating his mouth against your sopping pussy. A chill ran down your spine as your panties were fully removed, and you suddenly became all too aware of what was about to happen. You peered at the silver-haired man above you through your eyelashes and were pleased to find him entranced by what you were sure was a bloodied, messy affair and your panic decreased ever so slightly. Of course a vampire spawn wasn’t going to shy away from some blood… no matter the source. 

"You know," you did your best to keep your voice calm and gentle. "That we don't have to do this if it's too much, right?" Even though Astarion was the one to propose this little midnight rendezvous, you couldn't help the small sting of fear from creeping its way to the forefront of your mind. You didn't want him to feel any pressure. And you now knew how hard intimacy was for him. You couldn't believe how blind you had been before; how obvious the façade he put on for you was in hindsight, and you weren't going to allow him to put himself in a position like that again. Not ever.

A low chuckle rumbled from the man below you and you almost passed out from how good his breath felt against the thin veil of fabric covering his mouth from where you needed him most. You tried to shut the thoughts of your arousal out as you waited for his answer, but it never came. Instead, he responded with his tongue gently sliding filthily down the blood-stained cloth that was slowly being removed by his deft hand. Astarion’s voice was nearly indistinguishable to you as he ripped the cloth away, pure gravel.

“If I didn’t want to,” he murmured, placing a kiss on your entrance. “Then you wouldn’t be naked in my tent, love. No more talking now.”

His tongue zig-zagged its way through your pussy before you had a full chance to take in his response, and a loutish moan escaped from deep within your throat as the air was filled with a symphony of lewd slurps. His breath was icy from how aching and seething your cunt was for him, and chill after chill overcame your body with each swipe of his practiced tongue. 

He moved your legs to his shoulders as he continued lapping at you like a dehydrated mutt, completely feral for you. Your thighs clamped against his head and you dug your nails into the pillow, clinging desperately onto something to give your soul purchase to the Earth lest it be transported to the fifth dimension. His arms looped under your thighs and he sunk his nails deep into your flesh, marking you as his while he continued licking you desperately. His mouth was rolling over your folds and sucking at you raunchily - every single move he made was audibly wet and absolutely filthy. It was amazing. You were afraid he might lose control, and you almost yanked at his hair to rip him off you, but his tongue slowed then and rolled up the length of your cunt before circling your clit. 

You whined greedily as you rocked your hips, trying to maneuver his tongue to your engorged nub without permission. Astarion immediately withdrew his tongue then, licking his way down to your inner-thigh and kissing your slick skin before piercing you with his sharp fangs. A frosty sensation shot through your bloodstream and you gasped loudly, tangling your fingers into his hair just as the frigid pulses from where his fangs sunk into you melted to an almost unbearable fever. 

Astarion’s nails were embedded into the soft skin of your hips as he drank from you. Your heart banged against your chest like a prisoner trying to escape from their cell and you were certain it was loud enough that it could be heard by the entire camp. Just as your grip started to loose on his hair, his fangs were replaced by his tongue swiping at the small punctures on your thigh. 

“Such a lovely little treat you are,” Astarion hummed, punctuating it with a final kiss to your thigh. “Thank you.”

Thank you. It was so sincere. So intimate. Two words, yet they held such power over your heart. His mouth was against yours again and your core was burning for him. You were needy. Desperate. Your hips thrust up towards him and he pulled away with a hum. 

“Greedy little thing tonight, I see,” he teased. He smirked down at you and kissed your cheek before moving his mouth once again to hover over your entrance. Two nimble fingers pushed into your core as Astarion’s tongue glided swiftly over your clit. An unfamiliar sound erupted from your chest, a high pitched whine, before his free hand was clamped over your mouth. 

“Shut up.” He commanded, and you were done for. Your hands tugged at his hair hysterically as his tongue circled your clit with a brutal slowness. There was no decency left in you. You were nothing but a husk, awaiting Astarion’s mercy of allowing you the pleasure of coming all over his sweet tongue.

Your teeth sank into the skin of his hand while he fucked you with his mouth. He was loud; slurping and sucking at your pussy like he needed it to survive. The air in the tent was unbearably hot. Your skin was sticky with sweat and your lungs hardly had any oxygen left. Astarion pulled back slightly, his fingers pushing in and out of your entrance with lewd squelching sounds as he demanded, “Look at me.”

Without hesitation, your eyes fluttered open and you watched as he dived his face into your cunt again, his gorgeous eyes locked onto yours. You tried to speak but he only clamped his hand harder over your mouth as he continued lapping at you, the flat of his tongue firmly planted against your clit. The familiar coil in your stomach tightened and then released harshly as you orgasmed, your entire body squirming in delight. Astarion moaned through your orgasm, the timbre of his voice sultry as he drank you in like the most lavish of wines.

“Fuck,” you groaned when Astarion released your mouth. He seductively pulled his fingers out of you and licked off the mess you made on them with a smile before he maneuvered himself to spoon you. 

“Wait,” you said, “I wanted to-”

“Hush, love,” he assured. “I promise I’m content with everything. I want you to be comfortable now. Will you stay with me tonight?”

He nibbled at the top of your ear as his arm wrapped around your middle and brought your body close to his. You hummed and nestled into him, allowing him to be your protective barrier. Being this close to him wasn’t enough. You needed more. You needed to be this close to him forever. He was security. He was warmth. He was home.

You nodded as you felt yourself start to succumb to the unbearable drowsiness from the day, but you clung to his hand in yours as his finger painted pretty pictures on the skin of your stomach. 

“Goodnight, love,” he whispered. “And thank you.”

“For what?” You mumbled, doing your best to fight against the fade of sleep.

There was a brief moment of silence as you listened to the sound of your heartbeat steady itself. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump. Astarion nestled his face closer, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek and right as you started to drift away, he said the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard.

“For being mine.”

Thank you for reading! If you made it this far, be sure to drop a like or a reblog to support my work <3. I have tons of other stuff on my page if you want to give it a read. This was my first Astarion piece, but I'm sure they'll be plenty more to come because this man singlehandedly got me out of my writing slump!

[chilschuck]

on my hands and knees begging for post-canon confession. reader asks chilchuck what he’s going to do now that laios is king and he’s like “reconcile w my family, work on the union… and hopefully start courting you now that we’re not coworkers?”

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ THIS MADE ME MELT INTO A PUDDLE ANON. WAHHHHHHH i wasn’t sure where i wanted to go with this lil drabble, but it ended up shorter than i would’ve liked it. i hope that’s okay!!! i felt like it was good to end it where i did, heheh…

— PLANS: chilchuck x gn!reader.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw! fluffy. <3

꒰ wc: ꒱ 483 (short but sweet!!)

✦ once again, i’m so sorry this ended up so short!! but i wanted something really sweet with your concept, and this is where my brain took me. (;;;w;;;) feel free to send in another rq again!! <33

“What are your plans now?”

It was such a simple question, but it held so much weight in the space between you. The tavern you two were in filled with laughter and chatter, only to never drown out your voice as he heard it. Taking a sip of his drink, Chilchuck sighed softly. Even in all the noise, you managed to make it out.

He knew what you were asking, it was a simple question: Now that Laios was king, what was he going to do? The half-foot knew his answer before he could even think of verbalizing it.

“Well… See my family again, make up and reconcile. Work on the union…” Chilchuck looked down into his mug, before letting that content grin grow on his lips.

Before you could comment, he interrupted with one more addition. “…And hopefully, start courting you now that we’re no longer coworkers?”

You couldn’t help but let your jaw drop. Not only that, but you could feel your chest heat up from his words alone. Chilchuck let out a light laugh at your reaction.

“You— Want to court me?” The words came out so quietly, but your head was reeling. The man you had eyes for this entire time… ended up having feelings for you too?

“Well, yeah. I would like to.” Chilchuck scratched the back of his head, giving you that bashful smirk that always made you melt. Your own glee was evident on your features, the low tavern lighting illuminating your smile. Before you could help yourself, the words left you in a playful rush.

“So… Does this count as our first date?” Chilchuck set his mug down, your statement causing him to bite back a smile of his own.

“I think I’d like to take you somewhere nicer than this.” The way he said your name brought butterflies to your stomach, the excitement of this new relationship making your heart race. His hand found your own under the table, giving it a light squeeze.

It was quiet for a moment, but not in the heavy way it was earlier. Instead, the atmosphere of the tavern paired with the happiness of your newfound relationship made it welcome. Unable to stay quiet any longer though, you asked a question that was occupying your mind.

“How long? I mean, how long have you wanted to take me out?” Chilchuck rested his head in his palm, contemplating your question for a moment. With a hum, he came up with an answer. “Since… Well, let’s just say a while.” He huffed, cheeks warming at the idea of having to confess how long he’d been harboring those feelings for you.

You leaned closer to him, the drink you’d been sipping on making you feel a little braver. “I can assure you I’ve wanted to longer.” The half-foot looked down at his hand that was still holding yours.

“I doubt that.”

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <33

[arislary]

Nipping At Your Nose - Han Jisung x f!reader Oneshot

Synopsis: You're spending the holidays at the club with your roommate and things take a turn for the best when you meet the blue-haired bartender who turns out to be more than what you expected.

Or Han Jisung as Jack Frost a.k.a. club owner

Pairing: Jack Frost/Club Owner!Han Jisung x f!reader (1st POV)

Genre: s2l, fluff, smut, mythical characters

Warning: 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex (wrap up!), biting kink, sexual assault (reader is groped and handles her own), weed consumption, alcohol consumption, temperature/ice play (but not what you would think), nipple play, blowjob/handjob, pussy eating, squirting, slight foot fetish (Jisung just likes her socks), I probably most definitely missed some warnings so just let me know!

WC: 16k

A/N: I totally meant for this to have been posted for Christmas, but who am I kidding, it got away from me! EXTREMELY UNEDITED, but Han Jisung's blue hair is wrecking me and I needed to write about him immediately. Again I can't emphasize enough how unedited this is, so I am so sorry, I literally could not stop writing 😭 There's also a small part of me that wants to write all the members as their characters, but that would so much, unless.. IDK you tell me! Also if you want to see more Jack!Jisung, requests are open ☺️

Masterlist

Taglist: @hanji-coffee, @inlovewithstraykids, @xgridx

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I tapped the bar as I threw the shot back, holding in from making a face as I brought the lime to my lips. I turned to my right grinning as Damian glared at me as he sucked on his lime. I had convinced him to come out as a celebration for finishing the week and celebrating the holiday season. With Christmas being tomorrow, this had been the only club we could find that was open. We had both started new jobs at the beginning of the month and had finally found the time to celebrate our accomplishments. Even as roommates, we barely saw each other with how much work we did. 

On top of the fact that this would be my second year spending Christmas after having been no-contact with my family. A distraction was a must. I went out of my way to make the holiday special for myself and refused to allow the lack of family stop me from treating myself and those I loved. Damian had decided to spend the holiday in the states rather than go home to visit his parents in Australia as he normally did.  

“Literally so many different ways we could be celebrating,” Damian groaned, head falling back as he leaned away from me. A laugh bubbled from my lips as I called out to the bartender to request another round of drinks. 

The original bartender, a cute muscular man, who had been serving us was now occupied with patrons on the otherside of the bar and turned to the man squatting next to him that had just come from their backrooms. I watch the two converse before the man squatting stands up to come over to us and suddenly I’m greeted with wide brown eyes, blue hair, and chubby cheeks. 

I felt myself pause as I took in the good-looking man in front of me. His black long-sleeve shirt was loose around his frame, rolled at the sleeves. He had one gold chain hanging from his neck and various rings and earrings decorating his person. My eyes watched as he rubbed his hands on the rag that had been hanging on his shoulder. His very veiny hands at that. My eyes stuck to the way his long fingers clenched around the towel. I felt my mouth start to salivate the longer I stared. His eyebrow raised as I stayed silent longer, glancing over to Damian who looked ready to burst out laughing. 

Damian shoved an elbow into my side, causing me to flinch and sit upright in my chair. I stared wide-eyed at the bartender, my brain coming to a complete stop. 

“I wanna hold your hand-”

Girl. 

“NO! I mean-“ my hand shot out in front of me, shaking at him, other hand covering my mouth in disbelief. Damian shook in chair, practically falling out of it from how hard he was laughing. The bartender’s smirk stretched into an amused smile, his hands now coming to rest on the bar as he let out a huff of laughter. “Can I please get a rum and coke?” 

I mumble out my order, my eyes refusing to leave the bar-top as Damian continued to laugh, attempting to give his own order. As soon as the grinning bartender walks away to make our drinks, I turn to the ‘Brutus’ sitting next to me, taking my turn to shove an elbow into Damian’s ribs now, hissing in his ear. 

“Thanks for the help, ass!”

He yelped and rubbed at his side, eyes narrowing at me, but the smirk on his face gave him away. 

“It didn’t look like you needed my help with how you practically shoved his pants down and started to suck his d-“

“Alright, I have a ‘Manhattan’ for the gentleman and-“ the “too-cute-for-his-own-good” bartender returned with our drinks laying them down in front of us one by one. “A rum and coke for my new favorite customer.”

He shot me a wink as I sputtered reaching to grab my drink, fingers barely grazing his. I jumped a bit, quickly bringing the drink up to my lips, straw bumping my top one before making it into my mouth. Way to go, ________, way to go. 

The bartender leans forward, hand outstretched towards me. His shoulders and arms seeming so big, making a flash of heat go through me. My eyes dart from his hand back to his face, stopping once, several times, at his lips. 

“You said you wanted to hold my hand right?” 

More like put your fingers in my mouth, but sure. 

The heat rose to my face, blooming from my chest upwards. I watched as his eyes flashed down, to look at my barely covered tits, the red halter lace connected by two rhinestone hearts at the center. I had chosen to pair the top with a white layered mini skirt that had a small bow in the middle. His eyes lazily going up my body from what he was able to see. I could feel the heat in me grow further and I turn to Damian, shooting up from my seat. 

“Let’s go dance!” 

“But we -“ I grabbed his arm, dragging him behind me, shooting one last glance towards the bar to see the hot man still gazing at me, the smile on his face growing, crinkling his eyes. I quickly turn back around, chugging at my drink, trying my hardest to ignore the burning in my cheeks. 

I face Damian once we hit the dance floor, the sea of bodies pushing us close together and forcing us to hold our drinks in front of our chests. Damian began to sway, his head bobbing to the music as he took meager sips. I, on the other hand, had finished my drink, glass empty in one hand as I began to move my hips to the music. I could feel Damian shuffling closer, swaying his hips in time with mine. I felt Damian take the empty glass from my hands, moving to an empty cocktail table to set them aside. 

My gaze trails across the club, moving towards the bar where I am met with those brown orbs once more. I paused in my dance, eyes not wavering as we held contact. A body stepped in front of me, a man with a hopeful grin as he grabbed my hand to pull me closer. My eyes flashed to behind his shoulder where the blue-haired bartender continued to stare, his eyes with a challenging glint in them. I glanced to my right to see Damian had been pulled into by what appeared to be a bachelorette group. I turn back to the guy in front of me, stepping to the side, so that I would see the bar in my peripheral. 

I turned my back to him, pressing up against his front, swaying my hips sensually to the music, hands moving up my body as his moved to my waist to pull me back against him. My head turned to see him still watching. A smirk on his face as he conversed with another patron. I felt my breath stutter as he continued to work, appearing unaffected. 

It wasn’t an outright rejection, but the possibility of him being apathetic almost had me feeling embarrassed. I focus back dancing with the man who clearly seemed interested in me, albeit slightly more handsy than I was okay with it, but it was something I was letting slide, fuck it, it’s Christmas. Several times throughout our dancing, I had to move his hands back down to rest on my hips, him sending me a fake apology every time his fingers grazed the outside of my tit through my shirt or trying to slip his fingers under my skirt. However after I felt another rough grab at my ass, I had enough. I prepared to leave his hold when the music abruptly changed to an all to familiar song, freezing me in my spot as I listened. 

Yeah, uh-huh

Yeah, yeah

My eyes flashed towards the bar, my mouth gaping open as I found him already looking. 

Broke up with my girl last night so I went to the club (So I went to the club)

I snorted, hand flying to my mouth as his eyes flashed with amusement. The man behind me remained oblivious to our interaction, hand coming up to rest on my stomach and leaning down to whisper in my ear. I turn my head, looking away from him to focus again back on the handsy guy behind me. 

“You’re so hot,” I restrain myself from gagging, biting my lip to stop the laugh from escaping and lay a hand on top of his arm to prevent it from getting further. The ick had long settled in and I had already regretted letting him dance on me. 

“Thank you,” I say back, ready to disentangle myself from when he held on even tighter. My eyes widened in surprise, head flashing to the side. 

“You have to realize what you’ve been doing?” He suddenly pressed forward, pressing a very obvious erection against my ass. I gasped and tried to turn in his hold again. 

“I’m done dancing, let go of me.” 

“The way you were dancing on me tells me differently,” one of his hands moved up, grazing underneath my tit over my shirt. Oh hell no!  I gaped and slammed my heeled boot down on his shoe finally causing him to release his hold as he yelled out in pain. He crouched down to hold his foot as I whirled around, hands falling to my hips as I glared down at him. 

“I wasn’t dancing for you, fucking pervert,” he straightened up, immediately crowding into me. I stumbled back a few steps, not having been prepared, eyes still blazing in fury. My back was suddenly pressed against someone’s chest, a very cold chest.

I like the bartender (oh, if you’re lookin’ for me)

I’m at the bar with her (Oh oh oh uh-huh, okay)

His hands hold onto my elbows, thumbs rubbing circles into the inside of them. The smell of woods and chestnuts? surrounded me as the chest behind me vibrated with anger.

“He’s banned, take his ID down and kick him out.”

The man spit on the floor near us, leaving me to flinch back against the chest behind. My eyes flashed upwards to meet the brown orbs that had been watching me all night, softening once they made eye contact with mine. 

“That bitch started it, the fucking slut was asking-“

He hadn’t been able to finish his sentence before a fist flew forward and slammed into his cheek. The security guard, dressed in a black ensemble with the only color coming from a Santa hat on his head, that had thrown the punch, cracked his neck to the side and hauled the man back to his feet. I watched with a scowl on my face, crossing my arms, what a fucking asshole and during Christmas! 

“Thanks, Chan,” the security guard or Chan nodded towards us and sent a wink my way as he led the perv out. My eyes flashed to the owner of the deep voice behind me, taking him in up close again. 

“I’m ______,” I interrupt him the second I noticed his mouth open. He stopped, mouth still open as he tilted his head. He laughed his hand grabbing mine to shake it. 

“That’s a pretty name,” I nodded my head, hand still holding onto his hand, his very veiny hand. He pulled me closer by my hand, kissing my knuckles. “I’m Jisung, now come on, Sweetness.”

My hand engulfed by his, pulls me towards the backrooms, up a small staircase. My eyes stay fixated on the man leading me. His blue hair shining under the lights of the club and added festive lights. We reached a dark hallway, him leading me further towards the last room. Each door we passed contained a symbol on it, I was able to make out a top hat, an Easter egg, and a clock before we stopped in front of a door with a silver snowflake. 

As Jisung unlocks the door, I realize I should feel scared or at least cautious by the fact that a stranger was leading me away, but as he looked back towards me, eyes still soft, all other thoughts left, only he remained. Scurrying a few steps to be in stride with him, bringing his hand up to my lips to press a kiss. His lips stretching into a smile as he opens a door to an office space completely decked out in Christmas decorations. 

I gasped and walk into the room, eyes trying to take it all in. The office didn’t look like a typical office, rather more of a game room, with a couch and tv on one side and more of a library space on the other. A tree stood in the middle, multi-colored lights and what looked like personal ornaments. 

“Jisung, this is beautiful,” the door shuts behind him as he walks toward to the small bar behind the couch. He smiles watching me, hands laying on the counter top. I turn towards him, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. He watched me with dark eyes, the desire evident in them. I suddenly felt naked, yet not in a way that made me want to hide away. 

My eyes flashed towards the coffee table and I gasped, my feet immediately leading me towards it. 

“You were holding out on me!” I pulled off my boots, the grinch ankle socks making themselves known. I heard a strangled sound me behind me as I sank down onto the plush couch. My head whipped around to see Jisung’s head thrown back, eyes closed and jaw clenched. I realized how rude that could have been, I knowing first hand how specific I was with sharing my weed. I turned to face him, sitting on my knees, hands coming to rest on the back of the couch. 

“I’m sorry, I should have asked first or let you offer, that was rude of me.”

His eyes opened, head moving to look at me. He took in my position and groaned once again, leaning now on his forearms, head falling to touch the counter. 

“Sweetness,” I shivered at the nickname and shuffled closer to him. I reached out, hand hesitant in mid-air before coming to rest on the top his hair, fingers running through the blue strands. The moan that left him came from deep within his chest as I lightly dragged my nails through the locks. 

He lifted his head up slowly, my hand slowly falling to rest on the side of his neck. His eyes met mine, swiftly standing up and striding to round the couch to meet me. He sits next to me, hands moving to the rolling tray, papers, and grinder that lay there. He took in a deep breath, as his hands began to empty the grinder to roll a blunt. 

I moved in my seat, tucking my legs to the side as I leaned my hands on my knees.

“Do I make you nervous, Jisung?” 

His eyes glanced towards me before taking another look at how much closer I got. His eyes went wide, dropping the blunt and some of the weed he had already began to sprinkle on top back on the tray. 

“N-no,” I hummed and sat back, eyes glancing away down at his hands. 

“Oh-“ he didn’t turn back to begin rolling yet, eyes remaining on me. “You make me nervous.”

I look towards him, meeting his eyes to find the surprise there. I couldn’t help the smirk that came onto my face as I pushed against his shoulder with my hand. “Okay, not too much now, it was obvious.”

He smiled wide at me, head dropping forward as he chuckled. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, a deep blush on his face. 

“You- uh- definitely make me nervous, but more about what you could do to me,” he turned back to the tray, his hands resuming their task to finish rolling the blunt. My legs move to place my feet back on the floor. A hand falls on my left foot before it could hit the floor and maneuvered my legs to go over his thigh, my legs falling in between his. My feet rubbing at his calves. 

“Are you gonna ask me what I want for Christmas now, Santa?” I whisper into his ear. The desire growing further inside of me.

His eyes flicker over to me as he brings the blunt to his lips, letting tongue come out to lick at the leaf. My eyes follow the movement of his tongue as his fingers continued to roll it back up. He reached out the hand holding the blunt towards me, eyes expectant. 

“Depends, have you been naughty or nice?”

I leaned forward, my tongue coming out to run right where his had. I maintained eye contact with him, eyes drooling with want for each other. He pulled it back as my legs squeezed the thigh under me. He hissed and tapped a hand against my thigh, smirking as I giggled and fell into his side. 

“Yea, definitely naughty, Sweetness,” his fingers reached down to tickle at my foot. “Might have to give you a new nickname.”

He finished closing the blunt reaching over to grab the lighter. As he lit it, his eyes felt shut and his neck went back as he re-inhaled the smoke through his nose. I gulped watching his throat bob, his fingers holding the blunt nonchalantly. He reopened his eyes and made contact with me as he exhaled the smoke. 

He held the blunt out to me and I stared at him for a second, the temptation inside of me growing. I wrapped my lips around the blunt, taking a long drag. My lips pressing against the pads of fingers. I closed my eyes willing myself to ignore the slick beginning to pool in my underwear. Anxious he’ll begin to feel it through his slacks. I shifted in my seat, pulling away from the blunt as I exhaled the smoke through my nose. 

I opened my eyes to find his boring into mine. I pursed my lips, trying to hold back my pleased smile. I leaned back my seat, pushing the blunt back towards his lips. 

“So you’re not just the bartender then?”

His tongue came out to lick his lips as he took a hit himself, holding it towards me again. He smirked at my question and shrugged his shoulders. 

“You could say that,” I pouted and sniffed, to hold the smoke in for a bit longer. I pursed my lips to the side to exhale and looked off to the side. 

“Then would you say you’re the owner?” 

“That’s right, Sweetness, although it’s not just me,” he took a hit, leaning back against the couch, bringing the ashtray with him and handing it to me. I scooted closer to him, legs curling up more in his lap as he continued to hold the blunt up for us to take hits off of. 

The further down the blunt became the closer the two of us sat, the more the conversation deepened. It was odd to find myself sharing of more about myself, the fears of the new job, what it could mean for me in the future. He shared of his friend group, the group as I’ve come to learn that are all part owners of the club or have a role to serve. My head now leaning on his shoulder, his free hand resting on my thigh, fingers reaching in the inside of my thighs. 

“What made you stay open for Christmas? Did the holly jolly man inspire you?”

He snorted and shrugged his shoulders as he laid the roach in the ashtray, grabbing it from my hands to put it back on the table. He settled back down, his hand coming back to rest on my thigh. His eyes have a glint to them that I can’t quite put my finger on. 

“Please, as if he could make any of the club decisions, he’s too busy with his list all the time,” Jisung grumbled, a pout making it’s way on his lips. 

“You’re right, how could I compare you to that old man?” Jisung nodded as I placed a hand on his cheek, turning his face down to look at me. “Besides, if I’m being completely honest, I’ve always been more into Jack Frost anyways.”

Jisung stills underneath me, the hand he had on my thigh, clenching. My own hand stills on cheek, nervous that I may have said something wrong. 

“I’m actually Jack Frost,” his hand squeezes my thigh and an unreadable emotion enters his eyes as he stares at me. Interesting. A beat passes before he clears his throat. “Hence the hair,” he pointed a finger up towards the blue locks. I reached up to tug one of the strands, biting my lip. 

“I’ve always had a biting kink,” deciding to play along with his joke. 

Jisung and I blinked at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter. My face turned, nose pressing into his chest as we laughed against the other. Jisung’s laugh filled my ears and it became a sound I wanted to hear again and again. I leaned back from him, finally calming down form the laughing fit. He met my eyes and brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear, fingers gliding down the side of my neck. 

“We’ll have to test that theory some other time then,” he hummed more to himself than to me. His eyes staring hard at the juncture between my neck and shoulder, thumb pressing in. I leaned back into him, his hand falling to rest around my shoulders as I laid my head on his. 

“I don’t know honestly,” Jisung sighed as he started to answer my initial question. “I just realized that some people don’t always have it to spend it with and that… fucking sucks. So why not just be open?” he trailed off, head dipping back to lay on the couch. I shifted my head up to look at him, my breath catching at his response. “Besides, I’m with my best friends anyways, that’s all matters to me.”

My eyes ran down his face, taking in the blue of his hair against his honey skin. The cupid’s bow of his lips with the slight 5 o’clock shadow framing them. I turned my gaze down to the hand that rested on my thigh, not noticing as he turned to face me. 

“And to think if I hadn’t been open for such a holiday, I wouldn’t have met you, Sweetness,” my eyes move up his body to meet his again, taking in the way the smirk plays at his lips, but his eyes. His eyes tell me so much more. I couldn’t help, but become overwhelmed with the urge to hold this man’s hand and never let it go. Already knowing the warmth it would provide me, creating a longing inside, that I never knew existed. 

I looked away from him, towards the clock he had above the television flashing 12:25. 

I gasped sitting up, whirling around to face Jisung. 

“Fuck, it’s Christmas already! Damian! Fuck me, man, I’m the worst!” 

I scrambled up from where I practically sat on his lap, trying to tug on my boots. Jisung was quick to stand with me, hands falling on my hips as I struggled to get my shoes on. 

“Wait, Sweetness,” Jisung guided me to sit back down, kneeling before me as his hands tugged my boots from my hands. I looked at him, mouth opening ready to argue with him. “Would you want to invite him back here?”

I paused in my movements, staring up at him in surprise. 

“I-“ I looked all over his face, trying to something to tell me what he was thinking. I felt slightly dumbfounded that he was ready to invite my friend back into the intimate environment we had created. The pleading in his eyes became apparent as his hands moved to my feet, pressing into the soles. “Jisung.”

I mumbled his name, hands coming to run up his muscular arms up to his shoulders. He moved closer, his noses brushing against mine. 

“You just stay in here and I can go get him,” his hands moved up from my feet to my calves, fingers still digging in to massage the muscles. I felt myself become like putty in his hands, melting further into his touch. “You can roll another joint if you want and I know some of the guys would be willing to come join, we’ll celebrate all together, hmm?” 

I was nodding my head before he finished, squeezing his shoulders with each word that passed through his lips. Something about the way he phrased it, it seemed like he was begging me to stay, not wanting this moment between us to end. 

“Will you come back?”

He snorted, his head dipping forward, his hair brushing the skin left exposed by my shirt. I heaved in a breath as he raised his head again, a wide smile present. 

“Sweetness, I’d be a fool to leave my favorite customer alone-“ I blushed as his hand moved up to grab a hold of mine. “And, who’s gonna hold your hand if I’m not here?”

“Jisung!” I pushed him off, laughing and trying to tug my hand out of his hold. “You’re so-“

“So?” He eggs me on, crowding up in my face, eyes comically wide. “Funny? Amazing? Pretty?”

“Annoying,” I state flatly, finger coming up to flick his forehead. Jisung yelps, hand coming up to rub at the spot. He playfully glowers at me, fingers flying forward to dig into my sides. 

“Yah! You’re not being very nice! And on Christmas!” He mocked gaped at me as I flew into a fit of laughter, tears forming at my eyes. “I might have to tell Santa, you don’t even realize the sway I have, precious!”

“Ji-“ I shrieked further, Jisung moving to a standing position over me, continuing his assault at my waist. His smile wide as he took me in underneath him. “Spare me!”

He finally released me, hands falling on either side of the couch as leaned over me. I gasped for air, smiling wildly up at him, trying to calm the racing of my heart. He pressed his lips quickly against my forehead before standing straight and walking towards the door. 

“I’ll be back, Sweetness, stay put,” he pointed a finger at me and I mock saluted him, winking. 

“You got it, Mr. Frost!” He paused by the door, eyes flashing to me with an intensity that had me freezing. I bit my lip, clenching my thighs as a pit of desire blooms from my core, shivering as it felt like the room’s temperature dropped. 

“Behave.” 

The door closed behind him and I released a breath, falling back against the couch. 

“What the fuck?” I sat back up, eyes trailing along the room, finding what looked like another door. I turned back towards the coffee table when I suddenly remembered my phone. I shrieked, hands flying to my tits to grab at them and then down to my stomach, hips and butt. 

“Ah, fuck me, man!” I stomped my foot, slapping myself on my forehead. “Way to be distracted by some dick, _____, ugh you bitch,” I slip my boots back on, trudging to the door. Just as my hand reached for the handle, it swung open to present Damian. 

“Yah!” I jumped back as he approached, expression angry. My eyes widen and I put my hands up in surrender.

“Listen to me! Listen to me! Let me tell you something first!” I am barely able to register the three other men walking into the room as Damian grabbed my arm and yanked me towards him, pulling me in for a hug, but it’s more of a chokehold.

“I was so worried! One second you’re there and the next you’re gone, and suddenly your Bartender is asking me to come with to a backroom! You can’t leave me alone! And on my first Christmas!”

“It’s not your first Christmas-“

“My first AmericanChristmas, you fucking brat! God, I should have you evicted!”

I snort as he fake cries and push against his chest, eyes flashing to the three amused men that have moved to different areas of the room. Jisung leaning by the door still, smile present watching us. 

“It’s not my fault you were trying to get into an engaged woman’s pants!” After successfully pulling away from him, I pushed him towards the the couch to sit with the other man. I could feel Jisung’s body as he moved to follow us. His hand ghosting my lower back, leaving me feeling tingles all throughout my body, goosebumps raising all over my body. The heat from before rearing its head. Damian fell into the last open seat. Jisung pulled out floor cushions, settling down on one, with his back against the the chaise of the couch. 

He pulled my hand down, moving me to settle in between his legs as he spread them. One leg bent, foot flat on the floor, the other outstretched, making the muscle of his thighs prominent. He reached under the coffee table, pulling a folded up throw to place it over my lap, being more mindful of the fact that I was in a skirt than I was. His hand finally coming to rest on my covered thighs, the other wrapping around my waist to keep me secured to him. I nestled further into the space as Jisung began to introduce his friends to me and vice versa. 

Minho, the short, black-haired stoic-looking friend began rolling another joint, his eyes flashing to mine with a wink as Jisung said his name, causing me to grin back at him. There was something about the way he moved, slowly almost, eyes sleepy. The bleached buzz-cut friend, or Hyunjin, smirked at Jisung, his eyebrow raising in turn. He seemed to glow, the air around him somehow reminding me early spring. 

“You must be who pulled our Jisungie away from us.”

‘Jisungie’ stuttered behind me, his hands clenching in their hold on me. 

“Aww, I didn’t realize Jisungie already mentioned me!”

Minho snorted, licking the last of the blunt as he met my gaze. 

“He messed up three drinks too busy watching you.”

I turned my head to look at Jisung, eyes sparkling with laughter, mouth twitching into a smile. 

“Did you really?”

He furrowed his brows, glare stinging as he stared Minho down. 

“Barely,” he grumbled as I giggled, hand coming up to cover my mouth, Damian and Hyunjin snorting in laughter. Minho smirked, lighting the blunt and taking a hit before passing it to Hyunjin. 

“If it’s any consolation, I got groped while trying to get his attention, so I think we both learned our lesson,” I watched as all the men in room grew tense, their brows furrowing. Jisung tightened his grip on me, the deep breaths he took moved me on his chest. 

“I promise, _______, that shit won’t ever happen again in our club,” Hyunjin shook his head as he continued the blunt rotation to Damian. “I’m sorry it even happened in the first place, but don’t worry he’s banned.” 

Minho hummed, cracking his fist as he stood up to grab a drink from the bar. Even from the short interaction with Minho, the air around him was intimidating, heavy, almost like a blanket. 

“I shouldn’t have left you for even a second, babes!” 

Damian leaned down, passing it to me now. I shook my head not seeing how Damian could blame, taking a hit, breathing it back up my nose. I was about to turn my head to the side, fingers lightly gripped my chin, turning my head towards Jisung, lips opening in surprise and releasing smoke in his awaiting parted ones. My eyes were wide as I stared at his hooded ones, the furrow in his brows still present showing me how much the situation had frustrated him.

He leaned back, eyes still on me as he exhaled from his nose. I played with his chain, shaking my head firmly again. 

“Nah, it’s no ones, but that perverts fault. I allowed him to dance with me and he crossed the line, he should’ve just felt lucky to have danced with me!” 

“Exactly!” Minho slammed the shot glass down after his proclamation, sucking in air through his teeth. “Fucking bitch ass probably an insecure cunt who’s dick’s so-“

“Alright dude,” Hyunjin shakes his head as he grabs the blunt from me. Minho rounds the couch five glasses filled this time that he lays on the table. 

“No let him finish! Asshole deserves it!” I lean forward, hand raised for a high-five which Minho gladly gives. I then reach for a glass, slap the shot on the table and throw it back, lips scrunching up at the taste. Jisung’s thumb wipes the excess that dribbled down my chin and sucks his finger.

“Okay, you two can relax,” Minho groans, stealing the blunt from Damian before he could pass it to me. “Nah, as punishment, we’re skipping you two.”

“Hey!” I pouted and turned to Jisung in shock, crossing my arms. “Keep your hands to yourself!”

Jisung gaped at me as I stood up from the between his legs, bringing the blanket with me to go on the other side of the coffee table. It was Jisung’s turn to pout, sending another seething look towards Minho as he passed the blunt to me now. For a moment, I could have sworn it looked like his eyes had changed colors, but I ignored it, chalking it up to the decorative lights of the room. 

I stuck my tongue out at him and took a long drag. 

“Sweetness, weren’t you just begging to hold my hand?” I began to cough, smoke creating a cloud around me as I covered my face with my arm. I could hear the cackle of Damian and threw up a middle finger. A body settled near me, a large hand patted me on the back as Hyunjin placed a cup of water down in front of me. 

I looked up to see Jisung, who sends me a cheeky wink, bringing the glass to my lips. He continues to rub my back as I chug the water. Hyunjin grabs the remote, turning the television on to put a Christmas movie on. 

“Jack Frost, the 1979 version! Do that one, that one’s my favorite!” I point when he just passes the old cartoon movie. I can see from peripheral Minho and Hyunjin turn to make a face at Jisung who had moved towards the bar to pour a drink. He shook his head slightly, finger tapping his lip. Hyunjin plays it, grabbing the other blankets from under the coffee table to pass them around. 

“Is the club still open?” Damian asked, as he wrapped himself up in his blanket. 

Minho nodded his head, taking another shot glass. 

“We stay open all day on Christmas, but that’s also because we have a select group that comes and spends today with us.”

“A select group?” I look over at him as Jisung comes back around, grabbing the floor cushion to slide back towards me. He sits down, dragging me to sit on his lap, blanket covering our lower halves. I turn to look at Jisung in shock who merely shrugs and turns his attention to the movie. 

“Basically it’s like a private member only club that we happen to host here every Christmas.”

“How do you become a member?” Damian crossed in his legs, sitting up intrigued now. 

“It’s kind of based on their job?” 

“What kind of job? I have a job!” I sit up in Jisung’s lap, hands squeezing at the arm wrapped around me. 

“Not just any job, Sweetness,” Jisung chuckled behind me and rubbed a hand up and down my back. “Think maybe more life long jobs, passed down in a very specific way.”

“So nepotism?” 

Minho busted out laughing as Hyunjin snorted. Jisung shook from laughter underneath me. Damian and I shared a confused look, both of our heads tilting to the side. I look at Jisung once again, eyebrow raising as he sobered up, hands tightening their grip on me as he bit his lip. 

“Yea, Sweetness, something like that.”

I hummed, understanding that it was possibly a touchy subject and decided to drop it. Fanning the blanket to cover us more, I turned my head sideways to focus back on the movie. I felt Jisung’s cold nose rub lightly by my temple before shifting his attention to the TV as well. 

It was about half an hour or more into the movie and all of us, excluding Damian who had fallen asleep, groaned when Sir Rightfellow came on. 

“Ugh, I can’t believe she picked this douche over Jack!” I grumbled, arms crossing as Jisung moved us forward to pass Minho the joint that Hyunjin had rolled a few minutes prior. Minho’s eyes flash to behind me, a smirk present once again on his face.

“You don’t say?” I look behind me to catch Jisung shaking his head before he stops himself, smiling at me. “Are you implying you would have been Jack Frost’s bride?” I turn back to Minho with a ‘duh’ look on my face. 

“Jack Frost is by far better, although, I wouldn’t want him to have to turn human. I’d be chill just being his as he is.” 

I felt Jisung stiffen under me but paid no mind as I sat up further. 

“Also, like I wish Jack would’ve just said something, you know? Like ‘hey, I saved your life’ or I don’t know just say your ‘Old Man Winter’!”

“I am not Old Man Winter!” Jisung shot back and I whipped around to face, mouth open. Minho hissed as Hyunjin chortled. I shook my head surprised by the scowl on his face. 

“I- I know you’re not…” When the scowl on his face didn’t lessen, the pout prominent, I felt an overwhelming need to comfort him. “I’m sorry, Jisung, Jack Frost isn’t Old Man Winter?”

I didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but I also couldn’t help but feel confused as to why he seemed so offended. His eyes widened once he realized his outburst and he turned his head to cough. 

“I- I mean they’re two different people you know? Old Man Winter is the god of Winter, I’m- Jack Frost is winter you know? They’re completely different…” 

“Smooth,” Minho mutters, causing Hyunjin to laugh even harder.

I nodded my head, as he finished, hands rubbing his chest to calm him. 

“You’re right, Ji, they’re totally different, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Jisung stared at me for a second before moving to stand to his feet, grabbing my hands to bring me with him. 

“Come with me?” I nodded as he began to lead me towards the door I had seen earlier. He lifted a two-finger salute towards the boys as I turned to wave at them. 

“Merry Christmas!” They smiled at me and called back to me, returning to the still-lit joint. Jisung pulled me through the door, closing it behind me. 

“Wow!” I take in the silvery Christmas decorations, stepping further into the dark, cold bedroom, lit by the white lights. I walked towards the frosted windows, gasping at how real the frost looked like. I look at the bedroom, the fluffy dark blue sheets looking incredibly inviting. My eyes trailed to the bookshelf, littered with different books, games, and photographs. 

One photo caught my eye in particular, it was Jisung, Minho, Hyunjin, that security guard Chan, and a few others that I didn’t know. What really caught my attention was how they were all dressed. Chan was dressed as Santa Claus, Minho in robes and a floppy hat with what looked like a cotton ball. Hyunjin had on a crisp white suit, in his hand a woven basket. I trailed my eyes over the picture, stopping at the darkly dressed Jisung. He looked normal if the frosty blue color of his eyes didn’t give him away. 

I hear his footsteps as he approaches me slowly. I turn to face him, the question clear on my face. 

“Is- hmm how should I ask this?” Jisung moved to sit on the bed, hands moving behind him as he leaned back. I could tell he was trying to appear indifferent, but his shoulders seemed tense, and his mouth tight. “Are you guys like.. a bunch of role-players or something?”

Jisung fell back into the bed laughing heartily, I smacked my teeth at him and moved to climb onto his lap, chuckling at the cute expression on his face, happy to see him relaxing. His eyes were closed, mouth open wide. His laugh gave me rich man vibes, leaving me to shiver in its wake. Fuck, he was too attractive. He sat back up, his blue hair shining under the silvery white Christmas lights. 

His hands came up to grip my thighs, my skirt rucked up dangerously now between. My hands came to rest on his arms. 

“What? I feel like it was a valid question!” Jisung snorted, his eyes full of amusement. 

“It was, it was,” he pats my butt, sliding his hand up my back slowly. “No, we aren’t role-players.” 

“Then they’re the nepo babies you mentioned, right?” He laughed again, nodding his head as I smirked triumphantly. “But why are you in it? You’re a nepotism baby too? And why are you all dressed like that?”

“Relax, Sweetness, I’m gonna answer your questions-“ I stood from his lap suddenly, going back to the picture and picking it up to bring it closer to my face. It was like the thought was not yet done forming, but my mind was going wild. There is just something about them, something in the look and the photo itself looked old almost. My brain racks through our conversations throughout the night. 

There’s… no way…

I slowly bring the picture down, eyes flashing to him and then back to the photo. He hadn’t moved from his seat, yet his eyes changed from the playfulness from before to anxiety? Fear? Hope? I couldn’t tell with the bubbling confusion and denial already making itself known inside of me. 

“You-“ I stop myself looking back at the picture, there’s just no way. I place the picture back down and look at Jisung, schooling my face. “Are you fucking with me or something? Like is this something that you do?”

“Wait, huh?” 

“The whole ‘Jack Frost’ thing, I mean having us watch the movie-“

“Okay well hold on, you wanted to watch-“

“And then your reaction to being called ‘Old Man Winter’,” Jisung’s face immediately turned cloudy, his mouth dropping open to disagree. I held up a finger to his lips, my eyes blazing. 

“I mean look at your room, Jisung, it’s not subtle!” My arms are outstretched to my side at this point, one hand still holding the photograph. “Is this why you guys stay open? Are you like some Christmas sex club? Members can pick their favorite character or something”

Jisung paused, the finger he had in the air to interrupt, bent at the knuckles. The lips twitched up, his eyes filling with laughter. 

“I-“

“And what makes you think I would choose Jack Frost! What if I was more into Cupid, hmm?”

Jisung scoffed, arms crossing over his chest, looking off to the side with a pout on his lips. 

“Changbin wouldn’t even know how to handle you,” I look back at him, eyebrows furrowed. I realized He.. actually thinks he’s Jack Frost. I glance at the picture again and back towards him. 

I can’t possibly believe this.

Can I?

“You-“ I cleared my throat, his head turning towards me, but his eyes remained on the floor, pout still present. “You’re really Jack Frost.”

Jisung’s eyes met mine now, the seriousness on his face taking me by surprise. 

“I am.”

The finality of his voice struck me to the cord. Jisung stood up from his seat moving towards the window, he glanced over at me before closing his eyes and blowing on the glass panes. I watch in amazement as frost leaves his pursed lips, the ice growing further on the panes. The room’s temperature drops further as more ice leaves his mouth. He stops, eyes opening revealing the icy blue color from the photo. 

I gape in shock, slowly sinking to the floor, eyes flashing between him and the window. 

“Y-you.. you’re Jack Frost,” one hand covers my mouth, the other falling flat on the floor next to the picture that continued to glare up at me. “Fuck, you’re really.. you..”

A hand slowly comes in my vision, moving my hand away from my mouth before tilting my face upwards with a finger under my chin. The icy blue in his eyes remained as he hesitantly crept closer. Oddly enough, his touch continued to feel warm to me even in the freezing room. Goosebumps rose on my body as our eyes met.

“I’m Jack Frost.”

“You’re Jack Frost.”

We both continued to stare at each other as our words sank in. I should run, I should leave and never look back. I was just drunk, high, maybe he drugged me! I mentally shook my head at that, knowing that this man had seemed so sincere in the interactions we had. My hand glides up his that’s still holding my chin, clenching the black fabric of his sleeve and pulling him down as I pushed up. 

Our lips met in a bruising force, teeth almost clanking together at how desperately we gripped at each other. The heat in my core multiplied as Jisung’s hands went to both of my cheeks, fingers spreading to reach into my hair as we pushed closer. My arms squeezed his arms, hands moving to wrap around his neck. His teeth nipped and sucked at my lips, hands moving my head the way he wanted. 

He pulled away suddenly, lifting me to my feet and walking us back towards the bed. I raised on to my tip toes, thankful I had taken my shoes off again once we started the movie. I move my hand to the back of his neck, bringing his head down to take a nip at his nose. He groaned, setting me on top of lap, bringing our cores flushed against each other. 

I could feel the tent beginning to form on his pants, growing more as we continued to devour each other. His lips trailed down my neck, teeth biting at the flesh. I moan unabashedly, moving my hips over his to feel any type of friction. By now, my skirt was over my hips, underwear on full display. His hands kneading at the skin of my ass, shaking the extra flesh in his fingers. 

“Fuck me, Sweetness,” Jisung continued to bite at me, going farther down to the tops of breasts, tongue coming out to lick the swell of my left one. Without warning, he bite down roughly, causing me to shriek and grind harder on his growing length, mouth salivating. 

“Yes, Ji!” He hums as he takes another bite from the top of my right tit, tongue soothing the skin in his mouth. I groan, one hand fisting at the back of his shirt, the other gripping his hair, pushing his head closer to my breasts. Jisung pulled away, smirking at the bite marks he had left on me, before pursing his lips and blowing the softest cold air on them. 

I gasped, chest heaving, hips moving erratically over his. One of his hands moved from my ass to trail up the front of my body, fingers grazing the fresh marks. I whimpered as they pressed into the bruised skin, eyes flashing up to meet his. 

Words couldn’t be used to describe the look we exchanged. It was overwhelming and all too consuming. Our breaths mingled in the space between us, noses brushing against each other. I came to a startling reality that I would gladly give him anything, but more importantly, I wanted him. I wanted to see this man again after tonight, and the night after. I wanted to be a part of him. 

“I want you, Jack Frost.”

It was Jisung’s turn to whimper, his eyes looking so absolutely soft. He leaned towards me, lips meeting mine in a slow dance. Our tongues dragged against the other, licking into each others mouths lazily. Jisung moved us to side to lay me under him on the bed. Him coming to rest flush against me, legs caging his waist. His hard length rutted against my core, both us hissing from the contact. 

“I want you, Sweetness,” his eyes holding a question as his fingers fiddled with the ends of my top. I nodded my head, fingers moving to pull the top over my head before he even had the opportunity. Hands not having dropped yet, are suddenly pinned above my head, top tangled in my hands. Jisung wraps his lips around one of my erect nipples, teeth scraping and sucking harshly. 

He switched to the other side, giving it the same abuse until he was satisfied. Lifting his head to gaze at the red, swollen buds, the bites of his teeth indented in the skin. He blew his soft icy air at them, a breathy sigh escaping me from the contrast of temperatures happening on my body. 

The slickness of the my underwear had to be evident as Jisung continued to press and grind his hips into me. His fingers and lips moved down my body, teeth needing to bite and leave a mark as me made his way down my stomach to my bunched up skirt. Jisung begins to tug my skirt down my legs, lifting off the bed so that was standing before me. He held my socked feet, lifting them up to his face to place a kiss on the clothed toes. 

I tried jerking them back, laughing at the tickle of cool air on them, but he held on tighter. 

“Sweetness, the way you were dressed today took my breath away and I already wanted you, but when I saw these socks, I knew I was going to have you. I think I’m wrapped around your finger, is that possible?”

I wiggled my toes at him, arching one of my feet to touch at his chest and push at him. 

“Yes… I’m wrapped around yours,” Jisung placed a final kiss to the arch of my foot, sliding fingers under the fabric to pull it off. He did the same with the other foot, before holding them together to kiss each toes, teeth taking small nips at them. I pouted at the black shirt still on him, dying to have a feel of his skin. 

I trail a foot down, going under his shirt to touch the hard planes of his stomach. He hisses as my toes make contact with his skin before he is shucking his shirt of his body. The honey skin fills my vision, my mouth and cunt watering at the sight. His chest heaved as he stared down at me, eyes still icy blue but dark with desire. 

His hands go to the button of his slacks, pushing them down until he’s left in dark blue boxers. Jisung spreads my legs, pushing them up body as he blows cool air on my covered cunt, the fabric doing nothing to hide the constant flow of arousal dripping out of me. He leaned the last inch forward, biting at my folds, tongue laving the clothed folds. 

I whine, hands moving down to my tits, pulling roughly at my bitten nipples. Jisung continued to suck and bite at my slit, hands moving to tug me closer, as if he’s trying to suffocate himself. I almost wail when his fingers begin to slide the wet fabric down all while he blew soft cool air. 

He dives back in, tongue trailing up from my puckered hole to my cunt, trying to catch as much of my essence as he could. He leans back and spits at my clit, drawing a whine from me at the filthy display. 

“Sweetness was the perfect name, you taste so good, best fucking pussy,” he slurred against me, eyes hooded as he looked at me. I was up, leaning back on my elbows to watch him, bottom lip caught between my teeth. I slide my hand down, fingers touching at my clit as he continues to suck on me, his tongue grazing the tips of my nails. “So fucking wet, precious, you’re dripping.”

“Only for you, Mr. Frost,” he brings my fingers into his mouth, biting down on them. The icy blue intensified and the room grew even colder as he fingers teased at my entrance, his other hand gripping tightly at the inside of my thigh. 

“Ask me for it, ________.”

The roughness of his voice had my pussy clenching, my hole desperate for him to fill it. I moved my hips, a pout painting itself on my face. 

“Please Jisung-“  the words barely left before his finger is inside, curling and beginning a steady rhythm. The squelching noise was obscene as I threw my head back, toes curling from the pleasure. “Yes, baby, don’t stop, more, Ji, more!”

A second finger was soon add, the pumping in side of me increased, leaving me panting and desperate. My hips move on their own accord, meeting his pumping fingers thrust for thrust. 

“More, Sweetness? You can take can’t you? Such a good girl, shitting on Sir Rightfellow huh?” I whimper, hole clenching tightly around his fingers causing him to release a hiss as he went harder. “Fuck Sweets, you were just begging for me, huh? Needed some ice in you?”

Each question is asked with a forceful thrust of his fingers, leaving me weak and seeing snowflakes in my vision. 

“Oh- yes, Sungie, harder,” I gasped as it felt like the temperature of his fingers changed, the coldness against my heated walls almost bringing me to the edge. My head went to the side, the pleasure of it all becoming too much and for a moment my eyes grazed the picture that lay on the floor forgotten. A thought suddenly passing through me as Jisung continued his assault, his mouth having joined his fingers. His tongue slurping messily, teeth continuing to nip any bit of skin he could. 

“W-wait, Ji-“ Jisung immediately pulled his head away, fingers halting as his eyes flashed to mine, concern evident. 

“What’s wrong?”

“If Chan was here tonight, how did he deliver presents?”

Jisung huffed, his head falling back. “There’s no way you’re fucking asking me about that now?” Jisung continued to pump his fingers lazily, mouth reattaching itself to my slick folds. I gasped, his tongue ice cold as he lapped at me. 

“But I’m serious! Australia is like hours- wait… OH!” A strong suck and teeth biting my clit has me pausing, the air from lungs taken all at once. “Timezones duh! But still, ah- fuck- it doesn’t make sense!”

I shrieked as Jisung bit roughly at my inner thigh, fingers curling and beginning a punishing speed inside of me. 

“Sweets, please, stop talking about him.”

“I’m s-sorry, Ji, I have- OH FUCK ME!” I yelp, my thighs clamping around his head as he suddenly shoved his tongue inside my aching hole. My vision goes black as I yelled out his name. Jisung continues his never-ending assault, lapping furiously at me to make sure he didn’t miss a drop. He was whining, hands shoving me closer to him, gripping tightly his knuckles turned white. 

My body continued to shake as Jisung kissed up my body, admiring the littered teeth marks he left on me body. My eyes opened, meeting his, shock running through me at his wet face. My mouth dropped open, hand coming up to cover my mouth. 

“Did I..?”

Jisung swipes a hand over his face, bringing his wet fingers to his mouth to suck on them. His other hand trails down his own body, jerking his covered dick. His gaze is dark as he slips his hand inside, pumping his length as he looked at me. 

“Yes, you did, sweets, squirted all over me, fucking hot as fuck,” Jisung whines, climbing over me after he shoved his boxers down his legs, yanking his own socks off. “I need to have you now, baby, please?” 

Jisung came to hover over me, his hands coming to rest on either sides of my body, blue hair tickling my forehead as he leaned down to ghost his lips over mine. 

I sucked in a breath, hands running up his chest, scratching at his skin, desperate to leave me own mark. I bite his bottom lip, tugging at it roughly, sucking it into my mouth. His hard erection bumped against my folds, leaving us to whine and pant into each others mouths. 

“Please fuck me, Mr. Frost.”

Jisung shivers above, kissing me softly before lifting off of me to reach inside of the nightstand. I lock my ankles around his waist, arms circling around his neck to bring his attention back to me. Eyebrows furrowed, I shook my head at Jisung, my hand reaching down to grab his dick. My fist jerked him up and down, enjoying the way his mouth fell open, bottom lip jutting out completely. 

“I said, fuck me, Jisung,” his hand met mine, circling around my fist, nudging his tip against my clit, the wetness easily allowing him to slide against me. Jisung nudged my hand away, fingers interlocking with mine as he brought them above my head. He pushed his hips forward, grinding against me until the tip of his length caught my sopping area. 

 Jisung quickly sank in, both moaning loudly at the connection. I could feel my eyes begin to water, Jisung’s head dropping in the crook of my neck, teething at the area. Our hips moved in tandem, Jisung taking deep, slow thrusts, making me feel every inch of his dick inside of me. I clenched around him, eyes nearly rolling back at the tight feel and causing Jisung to bite even harder. 

I feel barely coherent as I try to meet his hips, thrust for thrust, hand still clutched in his. I turned my head, lifting up to suck on the skin of the arm holding my hand down. Jisung’s hips stuttered against me, head lifting from my neck as I bite at his arm, tongue coming out to lave at the skin, soothing the redness around the teeth marks. A string of spit connecting me to his arm had him rutting into me harshly, his hands now moving to stretch my legs to the side, pinning my hips down. 

I cry out, hands grabbing onto his biceps for support as he thrusted into me wildly. It was like as someone was gliding an ice cube inside me before the temperature returned to normal, Jisung a groaning, whimpering mess above me, mouth open as the icy blue of his eyes doubled, almost making them white. I gasped as his body seemed to go back and forth from being warm to cold, as if he wasn’t able to control his supernatural abilities. 

“Let go for me, Frost, l-let me see you,” Jisung’s eyes found mine, a vulnerability in them that left me shook to my core. I smiled softly at him, my eyes still watery from the pleasure. Jisung’s mouth opened, most likely to argue, but I placed a finger over them, shaking my head, eyes imploring him. “Please?”

Jisung eyes remained the same, except he continued his deep thrusting, eyes not leaving mine as his body became cold, the length inside of me feeling like an icicle. His skin unable to cool the fire burning in me as I raked my hand through his blue locks, pulling him down so our lips met. Tongues sliding into each others mouth, teeth trying to nip, sucking when we could, spit dripping from our mouths. 

The air around us seemed to fill with snowflakes and yet everywhere he touched me burned. The burn of his hand against my stomach, pushing in to feel the burning of his length inside me. 

“You’re so good to me, sweets, aren’t you?” Jisung cooed at me, lips moving towards down to my chest. He teethes at my nipples again, fingers pinching where he couldn’t bite. “Letting me fuck this pretty pussy, you were begging to be fucked by Jack Frost, weren’t you baby?”

“Ahh, yes- nugh, wanted you from the second I s-saw- ohhh fuck, Ji, I- I’m close,” I whimpered my head digging into the soft mattress under me. Jisung’s eyebrows were pinched together, his lips bruised, but blue? The color matching his hair. 

“You’re close, sweets?” he pouted at me, he pumped harder, his breathing ragged. “Wanna cum with you, baby, hmm? You wanna cum with me, don’t you?” I’m nodding my head, his fingers holding my neck in a light pressure. I would want to do anything with him if it meant we’d come back together like this. That I would see him again.

“Please, Ji, please, please.”

“That’s it, baby, cum with me, do it.” 

The burst of white around us became so intense, I felt myself go limp, eyes rolling back as Jisung continued to pump into me through the orgasm. I couldn’t even say if any noises left me as I felt myself succumbing to the pleasure, the ice inside of me creating a deep fire within me, bursting out of me. Without a second of peace, I could feel the explosion of Jisung’s orgasm, the icy full feeling causing another wave to crash over me, clenching around him tightly to milk everything out of him. 

Jisung groaned deeply above, hips driving it to me as we rode our pleasure together. The wild sounds coming from his lips fall muffled to my ears, still ringing as I struggled to come down from the high. I could vaguely feel Jisung slowly slip from me, hand coming to touch my swollen center, fingers slipping in my drenched hole to push our shared cum back inside of me. He settled next to me, fingers still inside me, but wrapping his free arm around my waist to bring me closer to him. 

“You did so good, sweets, so good for me,” Jisung noses at my ear, whispering praises into my ear to bring me back to him. The hand not in me, caressing my skin, the coolness of his touch grounding me. I hummed, turning my head into his chest, hands tracing his chest and stomach. 

“I’ll be good for you, Jisung,” I murmured into his cold skin, a small smile gracing my face when I felt his lips touch my forehead. A nice blanket of exhaustion washes over me, my body immediately relaxing despite the coldness of the room. I remembered whining when he finally took his fingers from me, body lifting from the bed, taking the comforting cold with him. 

I was on the depths of sleep when I could feel something warm and slightly rough wipe gently at the wetness in between my legs, before was that lotion on my legs? I blinked up lazily, moving to try and sit up as I watched him apply lotion to my legs so carefully, hands kneading at my thighs and calves. 

“Sungie…” 

His eyes flashed to me holding so much affection, so soft that I wanted to cry. He leaned his head down, bringing his lips to the inside of my knee as he finished the last of the lotion, but continuing to rub his hands on my skin. 

“Sweets, I think I’ll have to keep you.” 

It was quiet for a beat, the weight of his words settling. I watched as Jisung almost shrunk into himself, as if his confession would cause me to run away screaming. I furrowed my brows at him, his eyes stuck to my legs, lips barely moving from where they rested on my skin. I sit up, hands grasping at his arms to pull him towards me, pushing him down to lay down on the bed, head nestled against the pillows. He watched me with an unreadable gaze, yet his body pliant to every touch I made. I pulled the blanket from under us, making sure it covered us both completely. 

“Keep me then.”

Falling asleep with Jisung felt familiar and strange. The coldness should’ve bothered me, the coolness of skin should have alarmed me, but I only felt peace as I slipped away, eyes closing. If only I had noticed him watching me, noticed the way he went into himself again, maybe I could’ve prevented it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I gasped awake, the heat of the room becoming increasingly more uncomfortable as I stumbled from my bed. I rushed towards the kitchen, opening the freezer to grab an ice pack, moaning as it touched my skin. My eyes watering wondering when I wouldn’t feel the desire to do this anymore, but truthfully never wanting the cold to leave, wanting it to stay permanently engrained to my skin. 

It had been days since Christmas, four days actually since I woke up back in my room, alone and hot. I hate it. I missed him, desperate to see him again, but it appeared as though it was a dream. The club seemed to have vanished, no search engine finding the magical winter club. My one and only attempt to ask Damian had me blanching, it was as if his memory was erased, the only thing he could tell me was that he had one of the best night’s sleeps he’s ever had. 

I stood in my bathroom, naked in front of the mirror as I dragged my fingers down my body, tracing over every teeth mark and bruise left over. The largest marks being on my breasts, nipples still raw, begging for the same abuse. I could feel him still on my body, feel him come inside of me, the ice cold sensation something I will never be able to forget.

Each passing day brought me closer to insanity, the overwhelming need to be surrounded and engulfed by coldness becoming too much. Damian had murmured his concerns before he was set to leave to spend a few days at his, let’s refer to him as his special friend, who had returned home the day before from visiting their own family. Damian had said it was too early to spend holidays together which left me rolling my eyes. 

“Are you sure you’re gonna be good?” He eyed my from the door as he finished shrugging his jacket on. I was wearing a large hoodie over my pajamas, feet covered in my new pair of Jack Frost socks, an impulse buy from two days prior that I even spent for same day shipping. I had successfully hid every mark from Damian, thankful I lived on the top floor of our home, free to dress how I wanted and needed to. I had just pulled an ice pack from the freezer, placing it behind my neck as I turned to wave him off. 

“I promise, I’ll be okay, I think I just might be coming down with something,” I shrugged and threw myself on the couch, turning the television on to put the Jack Frost movie on. I heard Damian groan from behind, most likely tired of watching this movie as I’ve replayed it about 15 times in the last 3 days. 

“Uh huh.. well I’ll be back after New Years, call me if you need me okay?” His gaze was worried, but he shot me a soft smile that I returned. 

“I will, have fun! Tell Tris I said hi!” He calls out a last goodbye as he shuts the door to our townhouse, locking it behind him. The smile on my face drops as I turn back to the movie, ice pack falling onto my lap as I stared blankly. I pull the large hoodie off my body, gasping finally once the heat left my body, dying to feel cold. I had opted to wearing a Christmas themed pajamas set, a tank top with a snowflake in the middle and shorts littered with them. Each day my clothing had become more revealing, trying to find the cold again. Damian had refused to let me put the AC on, stating that even if it wasn’t super cold outside, he wouldn’t allow me to turn the house into a freezer. 

It wasn’t until the movie was almost done that I realized I was crying. The bottom lip quivering as I watch Jack blow the cold air over Elisa’s bouquet. A loud sob bursts forth before I can stop it and I am suddenly overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions. Was I sick? How could I feel so much for a stranger in just a night? Why did it have to be him? 

I longed to regret that night, to forget it the way Damian could. Erase it from my memory just as the club seemed to have vanished into thin air. I could try and hate it, hate every second of that night. Of him. Of how he made me feel, how he touched me. But nothing could take away the way he looked at me. A look full of longing and hope, as if he finally found what he was looking for. 

I sank down off the couch, bringing the ice pack up to my face as I continued to cry. The coldness of the pack numbing the burning of my face. My chest heaves for air as I curled up into a ball, laying on my side. My eyes shut, my body shaking as I let myself finish releasing my emotions. I felt empty and more alone than ever, fingers tightening their grip around the ice pack, holding it against my chest now. 

I close my eyes, no longer caring if I finish the movie. The carpet rough on my cheek as I sniffed and brought a fist to wipe my tears. 

“Fuck you, Jisung, for making me cry,” I pout and toss the ice pack away from me. I sat up, bringing my knees up to my chest, looking off to the side at the window. I laid my head against my knees, arms wrapping around my legs. 

“I miss you, Mr. Frost,” pout becoming more prominent, I shut my eyes, tired of seeing windows without fresh frost on them. The ending song of the movie begins to play when I notice that the temperature of the room seemed to drop. For the first time in days, I shivered, the cold nipping at my nose, causing me to blink my eyes open in confusion. 

Icy blue orbs met mine, full of guilt, sadness, and desperation. My mouth fell open, eyes unable to stay put long enough on just one part of his handsome face. His blue hair framing his honey skin that seemed to have bits of frost decorating him so beautifully, so perfectly. Fuck him. 

“I missed you too, sweets,” I don’t respond, don’t move, just continue to stare. I can feel my chest begin to heave as I become desperate for air, the frostiness around us somehow providing the comfort I had been desperately seeking for days. Jisung slowly brought his hand to my cheek, eyes full of sadness, blue lips parting as he could see the dried tear streaks. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

“You left me.”

“I know.”

“You said you would keep me.”

“I.. I know, sweets.”

Jisung hung his head, hand still holding my cheek. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, moving my legs out of the circle of my arms, crossing them as I crossed my arms in front of me. 

“Well?”

“I-“ Jisung audibly gulped and shifted from his crouched position, sinking to the floor to mirror me. “I talked to Chan-“

“Santa!” The glower immediately became present, his eyes narrowing at me. I raised an eyebrow at him and he quickly schooled his reaction, sending me a sheepish smile, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. 

“Yea.. Santa.. well I talked to him.. well about you and it’s just-“ Jisung cleared his throat, fingers raking through the blue locks holding onto them. “It’s not often that we meet people and the Man on the Moon can be really particular and Mother Nature can’t always sway him sometimes, he can be a bitch sometimes- Wait, no!” His head shot towards the window, eyes wide as if the Man on the Moon was going to storm in the room. “I mean I’m extremely grateful to him because I wouldn’t be me, Jack Frost, if it weren't for him, but, it’s a lot. Being what we are, what I am. I thought it was just the heat of the moment-“ I snorted causing Jisung to pause. 

“I don’t remember there being much heat, but okay,” he chuckles now, the hand he had on my cheek moving down my arm. Jisung turns to me again, eyes full of hope and affection. 

“You know what I mean, I just- got in my head, but truthfully, Sweets, I missed you. So so much and I’m also just Jisung and your just _______ and I really, really just want to be with you.. I’m sorry I had left you for so long, I shouldn’t have.”

I continued to stare at him, trying so hard to not give any emotions away as he finished. The pit of hope blooming inside of me, he came back for me, he does want me. He was a stranger, he doesn’t know me and I only know Jack Frost, not Jisung. It would be ridiculous to begin anything with him. Insane even. 

“Are you going to leave me again?”

Jisung immediately shook his head, hands grasping at mine, bringing them up to his lips. I couldn’t contain the shiver once his cold lips grazed my knuckles, easing the heat that I’ve grown to hate.

“No, I won’t.”

I stared at him for a moment before pulling my hands from his grasp and standing to my feet, walking around him. 

“Can’t believe you stopped holding my hand,” I grumble, stopping towards the kitchen to pour a glass of water. 

“Sweets, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to,” Jisung follows me pouting, the cloud of frost following him, falling into my cup as he crowds into my space. “I would’ve kept my fingers inside of your tight pussy forever if you’d let me.”

I gasp, slapping his chest. “Jisung!”

“What?” He laughed, smile bright as I leaned into him not realizing, taking a sip of my water as I roll my eyes at him. “But I promise you, Sweets, I mean it, I want you.”

His hands rests on my hips as I keep my gaze focused on my water. 

“Are you asking me to be your Suzy Snowflake?” Jisung snorted, forehead coming to rest on mine. He grabbed the glass from my hand, placing it behind me on the counter. His hand returns to my hip, sliding it to my lower back to pull me flush against him. 

“You think Suzy holds a candle to you?” I blush, hands coming to rest on his chest, taking in his outfit for the first time. A black suit, with a black button up and tie. Fuck did he look so good. I was ready to forgive him completely. His feet were in just socks, even if invisible to anyone else, still took his shoes off at the door. I bite my lip, fingers going to his tie as his hand on my lower back went further down, resting on my ass, squeezing. “Sweets, you’ve ruined me completely, don’t you know that?” 

I stretch up on my toes, lips just barely grazing his before I pulled away. A million questions bubbling in my mind. Hold on now.

“Wait, how did you know where I live?” Jisung blushes now, a shy pouty look on his face. I tilt my head to the side, raising an eyebrow as he mumbled so slow I couldn’t hear. “Jisung, how?”

He drops his head on my shoulder, leaning his weight against me, pushing me into the counter. 

“Chan and Felix told me, they thought it would be creepy if I showed up like this, but you don’t think it’s creepy right? I’m not creepy?” His eyes go wide, huge boba looking orbs as he puffs his cheeks. My hands tighten their hold on his tie. 

Fuck me. 

“No, baby you aren’t creepy,” Jisung melted into me, wrapping his arms completely around me now to lift me off my feet. The crisp coldness washes over me and I grip onto his shoulders, savoring it. Jisung’s lips touch my neck dragging a shiver out of me as he starts to nibble. “Who’s Felix?”

Jisung groans, not moving from my neck, but rather taking a rough bite. I yelp, hand trailing up to his hair to scratch his scalp. “Jisung, be nice to me! I know Santa now.”

A hand quickly swats at my ass, pulling a shriek from me as Jisung hauls me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. Jisung snorts as I pout at him, his hand rubbing where he hit. 

“Don’t be a brat.”

“I just wanna know your friends, baby,” I jut my lip further out at him as he leads us back towards the living room. He sits down on the couch, making sure I am settled comfortably on his lap. His hands rubbing at my bare thighs, goosebumps raising all over. Cold surrounding us completely, he stares at me, eyes intense. 

“I like your socks.”

My eyes widen in surprise before giggling as I glance down to where his fingers reach out to graze them.

“I bought them for you.”

He doesn’t respond, but a smile grows on his face, proud and shy. He pinches at my heel, tightening the hand on my thigh when I giggle again, face falling into the crook of his neck. It’s quiet for a moment, frost settling around us before I raise up again, grinning sheepishly.

“So.. who’s Felix?” Jisung barks out a laughter, eyebrows furrowing as he fake glares at me. 

“You should only care about me! Don’t ask about them, why do you need to know? Are you trying to get with them?”

He crosses his arms and I chuckle, wrapping my arms around his neck to press kisses around his face, the last one a gentle touch to his lips. Jisung whimpers under me, wrapping an arm around my waist, the other hand moving down to my ass. We press closer together, mouths opening to for our tongues to meeting.

We moan in sync, the cold touch of his tongue erasing the mountain of loneliness that I had felt for days. It felt so right, every inch of my body covered in frost, as we pulled each other closer, his teeth biting at my mouth. With one last nip on my bottom lip, we separate, a string of spit connecting our lips. His thumb swipes at it, sucking on his appendage for our shared liquid. I shiver in his lap, my hands cradling his cheeks, thumb swiping over them. 

“You’re so silly, Mr. Frost, I thought it was obvious I only want you,” Jisung blushes, hands falling to my hips, rubbing circles in time with the strokes I made on his cheeks. 

“I only want you too,” I giggle, rubbing my noses on his. “And to answer your question, Felix is…” Jisung trails off, looking to the side with a pout. “The Tooth Fairy.”

“The Tooth Fairy!” I jump in his lap, hands falling on his shoulders as I stare at him wonder. Jisung hisses, his hands clenching them on my thighs as I wiggled on top of him. “I can’t believe you know the Tooth Fairy, you’re so cool,” Jisung smirks at me as he shrugs, doing his best to appear nonchalant, but the tips of ears turning red gives him away. His hands knead my ass, pulling me flush against him. 

“I mean, it is pretty cool. We have the club as a way for us to convene-“

“Hey, wait- I’m sorry to interrupt, but speaking of the club! Where the fuck did it go?” 

He winces, nodding his head in understanding. “Okay yea, that’s my bad, I totally spaced on this,” he runs a hand down my arm to grasp at my hand and pull it up to his lips, taking his time to lightly bite the pads of my fingers as he continued to explain. “It’s magic. I wasn’t lying when I said we stay open during the holiday for people that don’t have anyone to share it with. It also serves as our home, you saw my space, we each have our own. And again a place for us to hold meetings. So then when it’s not a holiday, the club turns invisible to the mundane eye. Mother Nature says it’s for our protection.”

There’s a shortness to my breath now as I did my best to concentrate on his words, nodding my head in understanding. The fire inside of me grew, watching as he murmurs against my fingers, content, eyes meeting mine as he stops at my thumb. Our breaths growing heavy, the hand he kept on my ass trailing up my back to rest on the nape of my neck, bringing me closer to him. Every exhale he made sent the soft frosty air into my mouth, leaving me salivating and wanting. My eyes drooped, trying to focus on the conversation at hand, but struggling the longer he continues to look at me. 

“I have a lot of questions, Ji-“ he nodded his head, mouth opening to probably assure me that he’d answer everyone of them. I press my thumb, still grazing his bottom lip, to firmly stop him before he could say anything. “But we’ll have time for that later.”

I ease off his lap, sinking into the space between his legs, resting on my knees, hands rubbing up and down his body. Jisung’s breathing grows ragged, icy blues eyes intensifying as my fingers met the button and zipper of his slacks. 

“I want you, Mr. Frost.”

“You already do, Sweetness,” his voice his rough, as I undo his pants, sliding the zipper down slowly.  He leans forward shrugging his suit jacket off, the black button up straining on his shoulder and chest, bulging around the muscles of his biceps.

“I meant to tell you I love your suit.”

“Yea, baby?” He lifts his hips to help me pull his pants further down, bringing his boxers down with them. His dick springs forth, already hard and leaking from his tip. I mock gasp at him, thumb rubbing the pre-cum leaking out of him. He whines as I take him in my fists, tongue taking a kitten lick from the tip. I moaned as the coldness touched my tongue, the icicle length stinging as I pumped him, flicking my wrist every so often. 

I wrapped my lips around him further, tongue laving at the underside of his hard length. I take him deeper, leaving him a moaning mess above, his head back against the couch cushions, eyes screwed shut and the cutest pout on his lips. The absolute fucked out expression spurs me on as I lift up, popping him out of my mouth to spit on him before taking him again, mouth freezing as my nose brushing against the skin of his pubic bone. 

Every noise he releases goes straight to my pussy, aching hole leaking and clenching around nothing. I knew my shorts and panties were ruined at this point, the wetness dripping, soaking me completely through. The hand I had kept on his thigh for support, trails down to my center, gargling around him as my fingers tickle my covered clit. 

He shouts a curse, a hand pulling my hair from my face to watch me take him in my mouth. I move my hand from around him, placing it on top of the hand on my head, encouraging him. He takes the opportunity, guiding my head up and down on his icicle, holding me down. My mouth hangs open, tongue out as he begins to thrust into my mouth, whimpering each time the tip of his dick touches the back of my throat. 

“Sweets, oh fuck, Sweets, so good, baby, such a good baby,” Jisung’s voice is rough, his breathing puffing clouds of frost. “Sweets, I’m gonna cum,” Jisung’s hips stutter, gagging me as spit drools from my mouth onto his dick. “I don’t wanna cum in your mouth.”

Jisung pulls me from him, lifting me to my feet, hands going to the hem of my tank, mine going to the buttons of his shirt, but I’m unable to even get one of the buttons from his rushed pace. He lifts my shirt over my head to the side, hands moving next to my shorts and underwear, hissing when he sees the mess I made. His eyes trail further down until they see my socks, drawing a laugh from me as he looks at me, begging. 

“You don’t know what you do to me, baby, we’re keeping those on,” Jisung doesn’t wait to get undressed himself, dragging me onto his lap, legs going on either side of him. He rucks his shirt up just enough to see where we will be connected. 

“I need you, Sweets, I shouldn’t have left you, I’m so sorry,” Jisung hands are hurried, one gripping my ass, the other going to his dick, swiping it against my drenched hole. I slowly sink down onto him, the cold dragging a silent moan from me, mouth falling open as I welcomed him back inside.  My arms wrap around his shoulders, nose at his temple as he begins to move my hips up and down his length. “I’m gonna make it up to you, I promise.” He punctuates his words with a rough thrust into me.

“Oh, Ji,” I move down, lips going to the underside of his jaw, sucking at his skin. I circle my hips, swiveling a figure eight, sinking deeper down on his length, satisfied by the fullness of him. His brings a hand forward, cold fingers slipping on my clit. I shriek, squeezing around his dick, drawing more curses from him. 

Each grind of his length taking me higher, mind going numb, the cold all-consuming. Jisung’s head lifted, eyes glazing over as he looked at the marks still on my body, before they darkened, head dipping down to make them fresh. 

I groan as his teeth start their own mission to mark my body. Jisung took away the dark cloud that had developed over me since he left. A rational part of my brain wants to slap myself for becoming so attached to this stranger, but as he pulls away, a small smile on his face, fingers running over the swells of my tits, teeth marks prominent once again, I ignored that thought. 

Each glide caused the frost to grow, breaths mingling once more as we continued our slow and sensual connection. We held each others gazes, mouths open and touching, his fingers returning to my clit as he drew circles once more. Jisung’s suddenly moves his hands to grip under my thighs, keeping us connected and moving me to lay my back on the couch with him hovering above me. He watches in fascination, my tits jiggling with as he starts his pumping into me again. 

“I have so much to make up for, never having you gone from my side again, fuck you were made for me,” Jisung emphasizes his point, fingers pinching my nipples and pulling them, smirking as I wailed from pleasure, eyes watering from the intensity. Grinding his hips roughly after a harsh thrust, as if he was trying to sear us together. My hands grasp onto his clothed biceps, frustrated I couldn’t feel the complete chill of his skin. “Should’ve never let my Sweetness alone for so long, what was I thinking, wasn’t nice of me at all, huh?”

I shake my head at him, tears of pleasure leaking from eyes and cunt, drenching my face, his thighs and lower abdomen. Jisung groans, fingers going to pinch and rub at my clit rapidly, the noticeable fluttering and tightening of my hole egging him on to pull my orgasm out. 

I cry out his name, my vision blurring as the first wave hits me, washing over me, leaving me shaking as he continues to thrust inside of me, his own orgasm rearing its head. Jisung grunts, leaning down to touch our foreheads together, hand slipping up around my neck. The air he releases is freezing now, flurries of frost hitting us as he drills into me, hips jerking sloppily. My mouth falls open, tongue out which Jisung takes the opportunity to lewdly spit inside, whimpering seeing me swallow it. Everything about him was cold to touch and leaving me yearning for more. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Sweets, you want it?” I nod my head, lifting the hand around my neck to my lips, sucking his fingers into my mouth, teething at them. Jisung’s other hand is holding on the crook of neck, thumb pressing into my collarbone as he pummels into me. I had long already felt the second orgasm rushing ahead, ready to be released. “Of course you do, my dirty Sweetness, gonna take it all,” Jisung releases a wild groan, hunching forward his length releases a fountain inside of me, triggering my second release. 

The ice cold sensation overpowers me once again, eyes falling closed as he caresses me through it, taking me back to early Christmas morning. The care he had taken towards me, his gentle touch that had rubbed lotion into my legs, that had continued the same treatment after the several other rounds we had completed that night. I run my hand through his hair, his head buried in my neck as we both came down. I turned my head to the side, pressing my lips firmly to his temple. 

Jisung slips out of me slowly, wincing at the grimace on my face, fingers taking their place inside, pushing his cum back inside of me. He grabs my shirt from the floor, wiping at his dick first so he can watch his fingers pump out of me. The cold doesn’t dissipate, etching itself inside of me. He pulls away to clean me and then his fingers. 

“My shirt,” I pout, causing him to lean over to press a kiss against mine. He’s lifting me from the couch, wrapping my legs around his waist again, my hands holding onto his shoulders. 

“I’ll you another pajama set, one with my face on it, now where’s your room,” I grumble at him, pointing towards the staircase to the second floor. “I’ve got days to make up for, Sweetness.”

He begins the trek up the stairs, his pants still undone, half hard dick still hanging out. I couldn’t help, but grind my lower half against his stomach, biting my lip as the wetness transferred onto him. He about trips on the last step, hand flying out to catch us. 

“You know how you can make it up to me?” He whines as I nibble on his earlobe. 

“Tell me, Sweets, whatever you want.”

I grin devilishly, tongue laving at the skin below his ears. My bedroom door is open, neon lights glowing blue, the air dropping as soon as he steps us in. 

“You really want to make it up to me, baby?” I whisper to him, pulling away to rub my thumb on his blue lips. He’s nodding his head, mouth opening to suck on my thumb, teeth scraping against it. He’s in front of the bed now, strong arms tightening as I kept my slow grind against his stomach. 

“Anything, Sweets, please.”

I hold the smirk in now that he’s looking at my face, keeping my face open, eyes begging at him now. His icy blues intense, full of desire and affection, mouth still sucking on my finger. 

“I want-“ he nods his head, encouraging me to continue. “I want to meet ALL your friends.” 

Jisung stills, even the frost in the room as he stares at me. Before he drops me on the bed, causing me to bounce and catch myself before I fell off. He scoffs and glares at me, taking off his clothing as the temperature drops even more. 

“You’re annoying,” I burst out laughing, falling to the side as I watched him undress, glaring and grumbling. He turns me on my stomach, swatting at my ass I continued to giggle, gasping in mock offense.

“Hey! What did I say, you have to be nice to me! Or else!”

He slaps my ass even harder this time, body coming over mine, head coming next to mine. 

“You really think you’re on the nice list?” Jisung snorts above, the hand that slapped my ass now gripping it harshly. “Maybe I should tell Chan what a bad girl you actually are,” he ruts his bare dick against my ass, his hard length drawing a moan from, the icicle a rod of searing pleasure. I lifted my hips, grinding up into him, hushed moans passing through my lips. “Maybe, I’ll even tell Jeongin, you know close we are to New Years, you wanna fuck that up for yourself, hmm?”

I gasp as his hand falls roughly on my ass again, his other fisting at the strands of my hair, pulling my head back so he can bite at my neck. 

“You-“ I heaved in frosty air, eyes nearly rolling back as he straddled my hips, keeping my legs together, before sinking into me from behind, groaning at the tightness of it. I cry out as he begins a punching speed, thrusting into me with abandon. “Y-you know Baby New Year!?”

“You’ve got to be fucking-“ Jisung growls in my ear, arm coming to wrap my neck, putting me a chokehold, not enough to hurt me, but to pull me up to my knees, back flushed with his chest. His thrusting never ceasing. “Such a fucking brat.”

“‘M your brat.”

“Yea, Sweetness,” he lips gentle as they touched my cheek, his free hand tweaking my bitten nipples. “You’re my brat forever, you got that?”

“Yes, Mr. Frost.”

The night passed in a blur, the cold filled pleasure knocking me down, leaving me weak to it, desiring for him and frost no matter how many times he filled me. I struggled to sleep, scared of what would happen in the morning. If he would still be there when I woke up or would I be met with heat. With a burning fire that would consume me and I’d be left roaming the Earth, seeking to be cold once again. 

I wasn’t sure when I finally did end up closing my eyes, Jisung having wrapped me in his cold arms, thin blanket resting over us. His fingers trailing over every mark, new and old ones that he made fresh again. He had spent a significant amount of time rubbing oil into my ass, the teeth marks having been so deep, he remarked I could get them tattooed. 

For the past 4 days, I awoke gasping and sweaty, sensual dreams becoming nightmares. The heat of my room forcing me to either take cold showers or an ice pack to rub on my skin. This morning however, it was only one thing, which caused my lips to tilt up as I snuggled in further, the coolness of it lulling me back to sleep, content knowing it would stay with me forever. 

The frosty air of Jack Frost nipping at my nose. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Holidays! I hope everyone had a wonderful time doing whatever it is you do and thank you for taking the time to read. XOXOXOXOOXO

I want to make it clear that I do not condone plagiarism in any form. All of the work I create is original. Please do not copy or reproduce my work without proper permission or attribution. 

[serv0z]

RAHHH a drawing of all the sillies currently occupying my brain right now. Funny thing is!! My last LN related drawing was posted almost exactly a year ago!! how funny! Close-ups and yapping under the cut

I'm running on 3 hrs of sleep bc i stayed up till 5am to make this and then i had a neurologist appt at 8 so!!! (i got officially diagnosed with adhd or add we win, i already forgot which one he said but i get my meds tmrw!!) I might take a nap after this im so exhausted. ANYWAYS.!!! i love. flowey and clover friendship no one start yelling at me abt how flowey didnt care!!! theyre best friends to me!!!! and it works out as im a clover kinnie nd floweys been my comfort character for years now. we win. I don't think monsters really had binders at first (dont use bandages btw guys, dont be like Starlo was!!11) I think the first time one fell into the trash dump or wtvr someone picked it up and then once figuring out its uses just!! boom!! business!! figuring out how to safely make more and!!! finding ways to accommodate certain monsters with different body types!! esp with the spikes and such. Ceroba def helped Starlo out with his bandages often before they were able to get him a binder. the one where clovers drawing is !! an idea of revived!clover or clover staying in the underground in hiding. Martlet got him that shirt :)) and obv the bell earring is from Ceroba. sorry to all my cotl followers i STILL have no colored the 5 body refs of both narinder and lambert. I picked the colors here on a whim so uhmmm it's not official!!! not yet anyways!! i do like what i used for Narinders fur tho, so that might stay idk yet i hte coloring BNJKNKSD i colored this whole thing on a wild impulse.. thus staying up all night. I think clover would really enjoy waterfall if they were ever able to visit it after or during the whole soul thing. It's peaceful and beautiful and also one of my fav areas in base game sooo :) i missed my LN kids. I reread Raccoons on ao3 and remembered how much i loved them and their silly lil dynamic. im a #1 six defender btw i WILL throw hands if u say some wrong shit abt her. mono, less so bc i think a lot of people have a good grasp on his character now but six is ALWAYS villainized. Has been for years nd it ticks me off bc?? she was right for her actions kinda?? not really?? ofc both characters made bad choices that lead to it but dont disregard her feelings either? idk its a whole thing i cant get into on THIS post. a lot of the doodles are just random moments like Six in the Maw with their bigass keys and locks, maybe its one of the ones to the kitchen and thats why she's rushing :D? Mono isnt really. he wasnt meant to be in the end game room but i wanted funky lighting so do with that as u will. Silly stuff with RK and Six, RCG I DID NOT FORGET ABOUT U HUN <333 I JUST DONT HAVE A DESIGN FOR YOU YET!!! same for Low and Alone </3 RK with the nomes my beloved <333 nd ofc the last dance based on the animation on youtube!!! do not tag any of the ln kids as ship!!! and do not tag clover and flowey as a ship either!! only two im fine with in this drawing is staroba or narilamb oki goodnight

[threelionsgirl]

karma is my boyfriend| mason mount

part II of better with me

summary: y/n and mason finally arrive in cancun with y/n having to make a serious decision; while trying to understand her feelings for mason warnings: none word count: 1.760 notes: it's been a long time since i've posted anything, this was a sequel that i've been writing for a while, i even thought about posting it on wattpad bc i really like the plot, but i don't know, do you want a sequel? let me know!!! also i wanted to say that english isn't my first language so sorry for the mistakes, not reviewed (ignore the title too, I couldn't think of anything better

After just over two hours of pure sex with Mason, Y/N had decided that this was the best way to travel by plane, but she wasn't iron either. She was exhausted, and he wasn't much different either. For the rest of the time, realising they had no choice, they silently agreed to raise a peace flag, at least until the plane landed. They were still sharing that small sofa, but decided to put on some warmer clothes while the same blanket covered them. Y/N had discovered that she could occupy the same seat with Mason without fighting with him or fucking him… She hadn't felt that sensation since… Since they were 15, when things started to change between them and a part of her, however small, missed her friend. "So why didn't you break up with him?" Mason asked. They had been talking for a while about trivial things, and that was one of his biggest doubts. The low light and the cold climate made the atmosphere of the plane pleasant for that. He had one arm under her body and his Serbian bicep as a pillow to support her head. "Him who?" "Your boyfriend, Jake." Y/N grimaced as she remembered him. She didn't want to remember him while she was still with Mason, because she knew that cheating on him had been wrong.

"Well, I don't know… He's a nice guy, he treats me well, and I know he loves me." Guilt seemed to consume her even more after saying that, Jake was a nice guy, he didn't deserve what she was doing to him, even though she wasn't sorry. "I guess I was trying to focus on these things, thinking that it would be immature to end a relationship because of sex; Sex shouldn't be the basis of a relationship, and it shouldn't matter so much. I mean, there are people who live just fine without sex, right?" "You're not one of those people, so you're not going to live well that way." He said, and she looked at him, thinking that behind all that arrogance, Mason actually had a thinking brain. "I also agree that it shouldn't be the basis, but sex is fucking important." "You're right, I was just fooling myself. When we get there, I'll give him a call." "To break up?" He asked unassumingly, but with a faint thread of hope running through him. "Yeah, maybe, I guess. I mean, I don't want to hurt him, but I need to tell him I had sex with you. I'm sure he won't be happy to know." She pondered, knowing it would be difficult, but confident that it was the right thing to do. "What about you? Why did you break up with Karen?" She turned sideways to look at him, no longer feeling awkward about having his body so close and wanting to look him in the eye. Mason wanted to pull her around the waist with his other hand and entwine his legs in hers, but somehow it didn't seem right.

"She was suffocating me." He let off steam, remembering how sometimes, or almost always, Karen could be annoying. Mason preferred to summarise the story, the details were too stupid to hold Y/N's attention. "The Euro final was too difficult, and I really didn't want to bring her to Cancún with us." "Hmm." It was the only thing she decided to say, realising that Mason didn't want to prolong the subject any further, and neither did she. Y/N stared at the roof of the plane, listening to the noise of the wind and the engines, the two of them there, it seemed like a parallel reality, and she began to wonder what it would be like when the plane landed. A part of her didn't want things to change because it scared the shit out of her. "Mount?" "What is it, princess?" His eyes were almost closed, but he opened them wide when he heard her voice. "I was serious at the time, let's not tell anyone about it." She said, pointing at him and herself. Mason stopped to think for a moment, in his mind this was the start of something new, but Y/N wasn't really interested in making things change. This fuelled something bitter inside him, so he decided to act the same way.

"I also think it'll be better if they don't know." She shook her head, sure that the subject was closed when he whispered: "So, do you hate me again?" "Wait until the plane lands, now I just want to sleep." Y/N spoke as if sleeping in his arms was the most comfortable place she had ever slept. It made Mason angry, but he couldn't do anything as he watched her eyes grow heavy, as Y/N fell asleep so close to his body. Not while that moment was all he ever wanted.

─────────────

"Look who's finally here? So? How was your trip? I guess you got through it without killing yourselves." Declan laughed as Mason and Y/N got off the plane. They had finally landed, and Y/N's brother decided that he would be the one to meet them at Cancún airport. Y/N couldn't believe it when the plane finally landed. When she woke up on top of Mason, from the window she could see that it was morning, she locked herself in the bathroom and only came out when they were minutes away from landing. It was time to get back to normal, and she had to get ready. She changed her clothes and dressed up as much as possible, trying to look like she hadn't had a hectic night of sex. Y/N left first, coming through the door like a rocket. She stared at Declan with fire in her eyes. Unlike her, he was in a good mood, smiling and wearing sunglasses to protect his eyes from the beautiful sun. "You're a terrible brother, you know that?" She grumbled, walking past him and handing him her bag to carry. He looked at Mason for answers, Declan thought that Y/N would get so angry that she would storm out of the plane swearing a thousand words and slapping his arm, but she seemed quite calm.

"What's up, bro." He greeted Mason and the two of them started walking side by side, behind Y/N who was a few steps ahead.

"I really thought she'd be angrier, what happened there?" Mason bit the inside of his cheek, flashes of the trip flooded his mind and he remembered every moment with Y/N, but he also remembered the deal they had made not to tell anyone, and that included Declan, so it was inevitable that he would have to lie to his best friend. He looked ahead so that Dec wouldn't notice. "I don't know, I slept the whole journey. Do you know how hard it is to put up with a girl as boring as the princess for so many hours?" "Don't be late next time then!" Dec slapped him on the back, laughing. He had thought he was a genius when he came up with the idea of putting Mason and Y/N on the same plane. That experience must have been the worst for both of them, and he found it amusing. The journey out of the airport was uneventful. They had decided to rent a mansion on the beach instead of staying in a hotel with the excuse of having more privacy. Lauren, Alex and Ben were already there when Dec, Mase and Y/N arrived. They hadn't really done much while waiting for the other two. Their plan was to set aside a few hours to rest and go out in the evening.

The house was big enough for everyone to have their own room, with the exception of Lauren and Declan, who preferred to stay together as expected. Y/N discovered that the last two rooms left were facing each other, which meant that Mason would be her next door neighbour. It was for these reasons that she hated arriving after everyone else. She went to her room to unpack and Alex went to help her so they could talk. The only thing Y/N could think about was taking a nice shower. "So, Y/N, is Jake coming?" Alex asked, throwing herself onto her bed after a while. Y/N was on the floor with her suitcases open, looking for an outfit to wear for the evening. Jake. She hadn't even stopped to think about him because remembering that she had cheated on her boyfriend wasn't the best thought. "I'm going to break up with him." "What? Why?" Alex stood up quickly, surprised. In her mind, Y/N and Jake were the happiest couple in the world, she couldn't imagine that they were facing problems to the point of breaking up. "Do you want me to be honest?" Y/N paused. "He's terrible in bed, and I've realised that I can't live without cumming." "Is that serious?" Alex was dumbfounded. Y/N just thought that she would only be more shocked if she knew that it was Mason who had made her realise all that. But Mason was her secret under lock and key.

"Very serious. I'll finish this" She indicated the clothes in her suitcase. "And call him." "You're going to end a year-long relationship over a mobile phone?" Alex looked sceptical, it was all so sudden. Y/N stood up, pondering. God, she had betrayed him, and now she was going to end it all with a phone call. She was a terrible person. That's for sure. Karma was her boyfriend and would come for her at any moment. "Do you want me to make you come here just to finish?" Either option was terrible. She could also pretend that nothing had happened and carry on with Jake, but that seemed even worse. As well as lying to him, she'd be lying to herself. "It makes sense." Alex agreed. Y/N shrugged and took a towel out of her bag. Through the crack in the door, she saw Mason, shirtless, entering his room, and bit her lip. A few hours later and she was already missing his hot body, but NO, it wasn't going to happen again. Ever.

"You look strange, Y/N." Alex's voice roused her from her thoughts, and Y/N stopped staring at the door, trying to forget that Mason was half-naked next door. "No, I'm not. I'm just… thinking about what we're going to do today." "Well, I don't know what I'm going to do, but you'll definitely be looking for a guy who can make you come." Alex laughed, walking past her and slapping her on the bum. Y/N sighed and laughed back. Alex had no idea that Y/N had already found this guy, and he was only a door away.

[ukranianacearo]

"Mother", a strong word

Part 2 Part 3

F!reader

Word count: almost 4k

Mention of Innocent zero's real name.

Tw: Mentions of starvation, enslavement (like what Russian empire did to Ukrainians back in 18-19th centuries), mentions of blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of birth, harrasing, and attempts at SA and I think that's all. Please, do inform me if you see more.

Pairing: romantically there's none, but reader has to marry Innocent zero.

Genre(?): angst.

Tags: @aiscreamcake (I thought you would be interested)

Author's note: This has been rotting in my brain for over a week and @fellow-anime-weeb927 post only strengthened this lol. Sorry for any mistakes, I didn't recheck it before posting and English isn't my first language. More under cut.

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

Escaping the empire would be dangerous and risky. But even death would be better than what you had to endure. Your nation has been occupied and enslaved by another nation for centuries already, poisoning your people's minds, destroying your culture and language and killing those who were against the system. You weren't a person. At least weren't considered one. Your lord, the one who owned your family, was a cruel man. Not only towards you and your family, but even to his own kids and his ill wife. When times got tough even for him, you were only 5. His wife's condition worsened, she got bedridden, and there were even talks about her possible death. It was the first time he tried forcing himself on you. Fortunately for you, you escaped. Times got worse with the arrival of international market. Selling got worse and so did your family's condition. Your lord paid less and less, to the point where your family starved for days, sometimes even weeks. The first to die was your youngest brother; he was only 3 years old when he died of starvation, you were 6. Two months later, your mother died. The same cause, the same ground that buried her. There has started to run rumors about the lord marrying you, since his wife will die soon and he had kids to take care of. Your father had no say in it, after all, you and your family are nothing more, but the lord's property.

You were 7 when your oldest brother died at the age of 17. He too, died of starvation. After a few months, your last brother died, at the age of 16. You and your father were devastated, but you only could bury your brother next to your other two brother and your mother. One of the days, you heard your lord talking with his friends about some ships taking people to another land, to another country. But, it was really risky, you could die from any cause there; not that it mattered to you, you could never even imagine having the money to buy tickets for you and your father. So you just continued working. A year passed, then another and now you're 9. One of the evenings, your father didn't come back and you started worrying. You had nowhere to go and seek him, but the lord's house. When you arrived at the door of the house, it was open and you could see your father and the lord talking about something. While trying to focus on what they were saying, you leaned slightly against the door, making sure it didn't move nor made any sound. It was muffled, but you could understand that they were discussing your marriage with the lord. Your father tried to reason that you were just too young for the lord, you were only 9, after all. But the lord didn't care.

That day, you lost your father and killed your lord. That day was also the second time your lord tried to force himself on you.

You buried your father next to the graves of your family members the best you could. It was the middle of the night and lord's kids were sleeping in their respective homes, since most of them were old enough to have it. Not caring about lord's dead corpse laying on the floor of his house, you took the money there was; you didn't know how much a ticket to the other country would cost, but even if you had more than needed, it was better than less.

...

The travel wasn't pleasant at all, but you finally were here. Most people at the port called it The Magic Empire. You didn't know if it was because there was actually magic and people could use it without being punished or if it was because people's dreams and wishes would be satisfied. Noticing that many people had some lines on their faces, you didn't want to stick out so you decided to use your necklace. Clenching it in your hand you increased the zone affected by it. Feeling their magic power being stored in the necklace, you changed the course and way of the magic in the necklace to create an illusion of a mark similar to the people around you. As you put the hood of your cloak on your head, you start going into the city; the cloak covering your figure completely, hiding the broken clothes you wore: a pair of pants and a T-shirt.

...

...

In the past 5 months you lived in the Magic Realm, as people from here called it. You were fortunate enough to know the language that people speak here, since you learned it from a dictionary someone threw out while you were still living in your home country. But, life was still challenging, of course. Although, 'challenging' would be an underrating. This realm worked such as higher your magic power - higher your status. So, you had to lie, to live a lie; you didn't have your own magic, you only could use or manipulate magic that you 'stole' with the necklaces. If you stole it by defeating a person, that person's magic was copied by one of the necklaces, and if you 'stole' it by just increasing the area that was under the necklaces' cancellation of magic, you could use a person's magic for as long as they were in the area and a certain amount of time after they were out.

In these past month you have worked as anything you could: cleaning people's shoes, selling newspaper, running errands for people, etc... You did your best and most of the errands were done perfectly, and your employers were satisfied with your work, paying you a bonus every now and then. You tried to save as much as possible while still eating something at least once a day. Your plan was to go to a middle magic school, but to do so you would need to deceive many people and even the government, so that they could think that you had actually alive parents, at least. For that, you would need to defeat someone who possessed a mind controlling power and you only had three years to do so: that's when middle school start.

It was easier than you thought. That boy really thought he could use you as a punching bag, but ironically, he was the one laying on the cold and dusty ground. Now, you're one step closer to succeeding.

...

...

This mind controlling magic was actually something. You carefully created a well written story for your play, the realm your stage and everyone the audience. The school you wanted to go accepted you, just like you planned. And thus, the played began.

No one has suspected a thing. Which feels kind of weird. But you decide to continue the show, there's nothing else to do.

...

The middle school was good, it had bedrooms for every pair of students, a kitchen and many more things. Just the perfect entrance for a grand show.

...

Few years pass by, and it's time to decide the academy where you'll go. There were three options, the ones that will appreciate the show. Easton Magic Academy, Walkis Magic Academy and Saint Ars Holy Magic Academy; in Saint Ars, rules are the most important thing and rule breakers are punished harshly. Definitely not for you: you would be considered a criminal at this point. Walkis focused only on strength which is also not the best, tho this academy produced the most divine visionaries at this point. So, you're left with Easton Magic academy.

...

The entrance exam was pretty easy. After that you were assigned to the Orca dorm. Not bad. You can work with this.

...

Eyes. No matter where you went, they followed you, like the hunting past. Were you in class, in the kitchen, training or even in the deep past, you remember eyes following you like a predator. When you were in middle magic academy, you didn't have time to ponder about it at all. Nor when you were doing errands for someone to earn extra money. Sometimes, when you tried to look at the one who was the person with such intense curiosity, you only saw white hair of a passerby, who you guessed was your classmate. Trying to follow that person was impossible, it's like they disappeared the moment you approached the place where magic lingered the most. It haunted you. You had a guess who it was, but with no evidence, you could do nothing, but try to be careful around that person. Cyril Marcus. He was the only one who had those long white locks. And his magic... Rather he used basic spells or his personal time magic or even if he didn't use any at all, you could always sense that difference between his magic and the magic of other people. When a person's potential is great in terms of magic, you can sense their magic differently. But this scared you very much. Even if you knew that your necklaces worked on him as well, you were scared. Better treat a gun as a loaded gun and not as a non loaded one. He seemed much eager to fight against you in the tournament for divine visionaries' candidates.

...

Your fight against him just ended. You won. After all, he was nothing without his magic. But, in your opinion, he was more testing you than fighting you. Right now, it was break time before continuing with the tournament. As you sat on one of the couches in the room, you clenched the necklace in your hand. The other three core necklaces were still deep inside your skin, in the same spot, even after all these years. The square body of the necklaces had some difficult artistic style. You still couldn't figure out which one exactly, but it resembled the baroque style very much. The black hook that was on one of the edges of every body wasn't as delicate as it seemed, just like the black chain that went through it, embracing your neck loosely.

- "What do you want?" - There was no need for chit chat, especially between you two. You two weren't on bad terms exactly, but you weren't friends either. Still, your suspicion about him being the person who stalks you was present on your mind.

-"You seemed so brave out there, but look at you now." - You snapped your head towards him, the look of shock on your face making him chuckle. His mocking tone didn't help, as it made you more uncomfortable. But you were used to the feeling, so you didn't let it show just like always. - "Don't look at me like that, it makes me think that you didn't expect me." - Deciding to play safe you calmed down your expression to a neutral one and let go of the necklace.

- "You're so straightforward, as always."

- "It's better to save the time and energy used to talk about nothing." - As you crossed you arms across your chest while Cyril smiled in that typical sly smile, although to you, it looked more like a smirk.

- "This...show that you play in front of everyone is quite the spectacle. I must admit, it took me a while to see the truth."

- "What are you talking about?" - In this type of situations it's better to play dumb. You couldn't afford for the show to end just yet. It would be a fiasco. Anyway, how did he figure it out? Has he been stalking you for so long just because of that? You made sure he couldn't see your thoughts on your face.

- "Don't play dumb. We both know what I'm talking about. At first I thought you were just a 'Disgraceful Mage', just to find out later that you are magicless. I must admit, your cover is good enough to make me think about you and your magic for quite the years. This fight in particular has confirmed my suspicion. Your necklace isn't just an accessory, am I right?" - His words froze you as he pointed at your necklace. The situation got to the point where you couldn't just deny your way out.

- "It would have been better if you continued thinking that I was a 'Disgraceful Mage'..." - You mumbled, making Cyril look at you with a curious smirk. - "What do you want from me? You wouldn't be here just to talk with me, would you?" - You tried to stay calm, but it was the first time someone saw past your costume. Instead of the character in the play, he saw the actor. You already realized why he was going in circles while fighting. He was out of the zone affected by the necklace, so he still could see magic power. Truly, that potential you saw in him would be enough to end your show.

- "What do I have to do with all of that?" - The palms of your hands have started sweating, but you still somehow managed to act calm enough. Hearing your words, Cyril smirked slyly and put his leg on the other.

- "Don't worry that much, I wouldn't want for the show to end just yet. After all, you can call me the most loyal fan of your spectacle. Who else would sit and watch it, while seeing your true form and not the character's?" - It was as is he read your thoughts with magic, although it was impossible, your necklace still worked around you. - "I don't mind your magicless nature, but what about the others?" - He slowly walked closer and sat on the couch in front of you - "I'm sure you know they wouldn't accept you if they knew, otherwise you wouldn't be putting this good of a performance. How convenient that I have just the offer for you, wouldn't you say so? You see, I plan on becoming the perfect human, but for that I need to find more knowledge and strong allies."

...

- "We both know that magic users tend to rely very much on magic - myself included - and you're someone who shifts their situation a lot with just a lift of your hand. Or even without it. As years went on, you taught yourself to manipulate that necklace very well. When the time will come, I want you to join my association and plan. Of course, I, on my end, will make sure the government won't get you." - It was tempting, but the actor can't just disappear from the stage, it wouldn't be fair. You clenched your left wrist with your hand as you looked at him a bit troubled, trying to stay calm. Seeing your hesitation, Cyril chucked. - "Don't worry. I will give you time to think about it. But when I will come for an answer, I hope you will have it." - He said as he got up, walking towards the door in his usual slow and elegant way. You wanted to answer, say at least something. But it felt as if the words got stuck in your throat, sinking in your stomach, leaving you alone with your thoughts haunting you, trying to come up with something, anything. - "So long, dear actress." - He left the room as the voice of a commentator announced the break time over. You were left alone, looking at the floor while your thoughts got to you. How could you afford such a mistake? Your performance was supposed to be perfect, without even the slightest flaw. Clenching the necklace you tried not to let emotions get the best of you. Even if there was a break between the acts, the actor shouldn't forgot that they're an actor. People are supposed to only see the character that they portrait, not the person behind it. One person in the audience saw the actor as they are, but that shouldn't matter. Especially when that person continues to watch the show peacefully.

- "Tell me, Cell war," - You started while watching your 'son' in the tank, or better say, in an incubator. Cell war, who was a creation of Innocent zero, turned to look at you patiently, waiting for you to continue. In the past years, Cyril Innocent zero really weird choice of name got to know that for achieving his goal to become "The Perfect Human", he needed six hearts of blood related family. That's how you got to this scene of the show. The audience changed, but the actor and that one specific person stayed the same people, probably. He mixed his DNA with your to create a life. You promised yourself that no matter what, your 'sons' won't live as bad or even worse than you; you would not allowe it as long as you breathe. - "How do you feel about his plan?"

...

- "If it's something 'father' wants, then it should be done."

- "You shouldn't be up this late." - You said in a scolding voice while standing behind the four young boys that stood outside your bedroom door.

- "Mother!" - They four said in unison, as they turned around to look at you. Fanim and Delisaster immediately went to hug you by your legs, since they didn't reach any higher yet, while Doom and Epidem stood by your sides taking your hands in theirs. They all seemed very exited and happy to see you again.

- "We wanted to see you the day you came back from this mission, so we stayed up." - Doom explained in a shy manner. You patted their heads as you hummed, giving a sign of acknowledgement.

- "That's very sweet of you, boys. But you shouldn't lose sleep just because of me. Sleep is fundamental for your health." - You answered in a caring voice, you truly couldn't be angry at them for long. Hearing your words, they looked between each other and then all looked at you.

- "But, mother is also very important for our health." - Delisaster started.

- "You train and play with us." - Doom continued.

- "You don't get angry at us for the slightest mistake and explain everything that we ask you to." - then Fanim continued.

- "And you give us all kinds of sweets." - Epidem finished. You were shocked. All of them were still so young, but understood so much. It wasn't uncommon in your experience, many kids you knew from the streets when you were younger had to grow up too soon - yourself included. But these four boys didn't live that life. Your best guess was that they were so aware of everything because of Innocent zero, their father. You smiled softly at them as you hugged them all.

- "What would I do without you guys, hm?" - They basked in your attention. - "But you gotta go to sleep now, it's already late." - Hearing that they whined in unison, but obeyed and you guided them to their rooms.

...

- "Did you see mother?" - Delisaster asked Doom, as the later was sharpening his sword. The former couldn't find you for a while now and he really wanted to show you one his new tricks with his pole arms.

- "Do you not know yet? She fell into a coma." - Doom tried to act as calm as possible, but in reality he was devastated. The fact that you just fainted out of nowhere wasn't positive at all, especially for the sons. There was no logical explanation for this and no one could figure it out. The ones who were probably affected the least were Domina and Mash, who were still too young to understand it. The room fell into silence's embrace as Delisaster tried to process the devastating information he just learned.

...

- "Domina, you should be useful. That's what mother and I would want. You understand, right?" - His sly tone of voice echoed in the small dark room that could barely be called a bedroom. He stood in front of Domina, looking at the small boy from his height. - "We must do it so that mother can wake up. Do you want her to wake up? Domina."

- "Yes, father." - The small boy looked pitiful. His pink-ish hair was cut just above his shoulders with bangs covering his eyebrows. He was just around 5 years old, yet he seemed as if he didn't eat enough. Domina was determined to do anything to help his mother regain consciousness and make his father proud. What he didn't understand was that, he shouldn't be the one to fight for it.

...

- "I see you still don't understand, Mash Burndead. If you continue to fight against it, mother won't wake up." - Doom said as he blocked one of Mash's punches.

- "I don't know that mother much, but I'm sure that destroying the world won't help wake her up." - Mash answered in the usual monotone voice as he punched Doom in the abdomen.

...

- "Who is she?" - asked a tall man with white hair and a big sword at his hip.

- "She was retrieved from the castle. Supposedly Innocent zero mixted his DNA with hers to create the six sons. Her name is [Y/N] [L/N]. She studied in Easton Magic Academy back in the days alongside me and Innocent zero. Was reported missing by some acquaintances after graduation. Later on it was discovered that she lied to the government, a lot." - Another tall and old man with grey hair answered.

- "So she's also Mash's biological mother... I wonder why she joined Innocent zero in his plan." - The tall man with the sword murmured.

- "I'm sure Innocent zero had some cards in his sleeves to play to manipulate her. She wouldn't go for such length just because of someone else's desires. Especially Innocent zero's, she couldn't care less about the man."

- "Maybe she was in love with him." - The tall man with the sword suggested turning his head slightly to look at the old man. Right after the man finished his sentence, the old one started laughing; when he finished laughing he sighed and started talking.

- "That's impossible, Kaldo. Not even love potions could make her feel something so deep. She herself said that she was unable to feel such love since birth; her brain lacked in that part. I guess she had a secret that the world shouldn't know and Innocent zero knew it."

- "Like what?" - the curiosity got the better out of the man with the sword.

- "Hmm, I don't know. We should ask her after she wakes up. For now, call Mash; I wanna talk with him." - The man with the sword bowed and walked out of the door, while the old man continued looking at the woman in the nurse bed. - "Mother, such a strong word, huh..."

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

And that's it :D I hope you enjoyed this fanfic. If you want to be added into the tag list, please comment.

Edit 1 (11/01/2025): I corrected the grammatical mistakes

[parasiterileymoon]

Yoo i just read your angel dust x reader in the 40s and it was great! If you ever need to write something in italian i'll gladly translate it for you (i am italian)

Btw are your requests open? If so then can i ask for a sort-of follow up to your aforementioned post? Reader goes to hell after getting shot by angel's dad, some years pass and angel dies too but they don't know they both went to hell and assume the other one is in heaven and one day they meet again out of luck and recognize eachother after having a conversation in a bar or something like that (btw if you could refrain from calling him anthony too much it would be greatly appreciated, nothing against that it's just that my dad is named antonio and it feels kinda weird to read a fic with my dad's name lol, but if you want to call him anthony anyway i don't mind at all), thanks for reading!

If my request violated any rules please tell me so that i won't make the mistake again

You are incredible! I adore how detailed this request is. I will use as little “Anthony” as possible lol.

Angel dust x reader (1940s follow up…or part two?)

C/W: cannon typical violence, grief, loss, mildly suggestive, survivors guilt, regret, crying LOTS of emotions.

~~

70 years. 70 years is how long it’s been. 70 years since you have seen him. It was startling at first. You never thought you would see him again. For a while you just held eachother. You sat there, your face nuzzled in his fluff. “Oh my god I have so much to tell you.” He smiled down at you. He began to talk about the family. You didn’t listen. You just stared at him. At how beautiful he is. You held his bottom set of hands and rested your head on his chest. You’ve never seen him so happy. This beautiful man you have been waiting for him for what it feels like an eternity and he’s finally here. You are in his arms at last. “Hey are you listening?” “No. I’m not. I’m sorry but…you look so happy. I can’t help but think…I mean it’s like- my whole brain is occupied by the thought ‘holy shit…this is it. This is what I have been waiting for. What I have been wanting.’ I’ve waited seventy years, my angel.” Tears well up in both your eyes. “Oh…oh my god.” He grabs your face and pulls it up to his. He kisses you. Not a kiss full of heat, but not with any less passion. A kiss filled with love and adoration. A kiss from a man missing the love of his life for 70 years. 70 years filled with pain and agony. For a moment, he forgot his pain, suffering, trauma, and tears. You are his everything. You are the reason he wanted to hang on. The shred of hope that you might reunite. “I thought you went to heaven” he said after he pulled away. You shake your head. “Why?” You laugh pitifully “I’ve done terrible things…” he sighs. “Because you regretted it. Every time. Every time you shot or stabbed you felt horrible. You brought flowers to their graves. You cried, tha-that can’t mean nothing!” He looks confused and angry. How dare they deny the love of his life entry to paradise? You are the kind of person to cry when Bambi’s mom died every time. Without fail. You put a chocolate smile on his pancakes once! “You’re too good for this shithole, (____)…too good.” His voice shakes as he said your name. You kiss him. Comforting, passionate, painful, sweet, and loving. “If I went to heaven I would’ve never seen you again.” You looked into his eyes. There were so many emotions swirling between the two of you that night.

I think the moral of this story is that…I don’t know hold on to the people that love you.

~~

I cried well writing this. Any feedback is encouraged. Thank you for reading🫂

[aithusarosekiller]

I saw your Jegulus post about them not being the typical teenage romance and can I just give you a double high five in agreement! I then HAD to find one of many moments I've written for them which exemplify this and share it with you. And this one is the one I settled on. Remus' POV, year five for the Marauders, year four for Regulus. Context is, this is the first time Remus has spent time with James and Regulus together after discovering their secret relationship. It's James' birthday and Lily wants James occupied all day so she can prep for his party. Lily also knows about James and Regulus BTW, makes contextual sense in the story (Sirius does not know, doesn't apply to this scene though).

Hope you enjoy. :)

>>><<<

There were people who loved each other, like Remus loved Sirius. He would have handed Sirius his body, heart, and soul. He loved him with every ounce of his being. And yet… There were people who loved each other, and then there was James and Regulus.

Remus could think of no other way to describe it. They weren’t two hearts beating for each other. They were the void between heartbeats. They occupied the infinitesimal moment as an inhale became an exhale. They were two people, who shared a single soul. And being around them was both intoxicating and strange. Remus felt like if he breathed too hard in their direction he’d mess with their air, which was exactly perfect between them as their breaths mingled. For surely two people so melded would only breathe the air of the other. And then they would poke fun at each other and their aura would brighten, literally bringing each into sharper visual focus, before it blurred again as they melted back into each other. 

They didn’t even have to be touching (though they nearly always were) for this phenomenon to take place. And for half the day Remus thought he was merely groggy from the Pamoja wielding. He thought his brain was sending him confused signals as he watched James and Regulus be James and Regulus. 

But a massive lunch, plenty of teenage goofing off, and exploring the surrounding forest left him with a very clear mind and the same mental signals. At which point Remus decided James and Regulus were an exhibition in their own category of relationship, absolutely unique to them. Love was not the word he would use to describe them. It was so much more. They filled the spaces no one else even noticed. And it merged their existence into a single organism. 

It was fucking intense. 

After they parted ways, as James and Remus continued up to the castle together, Remus said tentatively, “hey, so is it always like that?”

“What do you mean?” asked James absently. 

“Er, do you really not know.”

James glanced over at him. “It’s always like that, yeah.”

“Bloody hell.” Remus couldn’t get a good read on James’ face for they were walking side by side, but he thought James might be smiling. “I knew he had to be something special and way more substantial than he looks to withstand your affection, but Godric James. I don’t even know what to call that. I’m not sure it’s physically sustainable.”

“He’s my star.”

“Mate, he’s your fucking universe.”

James playfully threw out an elbow and definitely didn’t look at Remus. 

“What can I say, we are infinite. Don’t look so scandalized, you and Sirius aren’t so different.”

“No, we are very different. We exist in the physical world James. You two are already way out there in your own orbit.”

“See why I can’t lose him.”

They took several paces before Remus spoke.

“James, I’m scared for you. That kind of connection has to be dangerous.”

“Want to stop and have a smoke?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth mate.”

<3

JUST REMEMBERED I HAD THIS IN MY INBOX FOR AGES I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS

But honestly it's one of my favourite things about them, the poetic quality makes it feel like they're finding each other again just when they need it at the same time as we're finding them when WE need it, you know?

That's so real though, the idea of the two of them being able to almost spiritually feed off of each other's presence is so true. Like existence is centred around them for a moment. They take over everything.

And it's probably bad in the long run but it's so beautiful that the pain is okay. Because without all of the painful bits, were the good parts really all that valuable?

Also I love your style, it feels real and almost factual if that makes sense? Even when you're describing metaphysical aspects the certainty gives a strong feeling of truth and rationality. I like it.

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (part nine) 🌹

Part Eight 🌹

A/N: This is shorter than my last few chapters sorry!! I have gotten used to a post schedule and I hope this is good enough yall please don't send snakes after me. I love you guys and hope you like this it's 5 am help. ALSO! PLAYLIST HAS BEEN CREATED! Link here and on masterlist. Ofc you don't have to listen, just for funsies :)

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

Your senses were awake before your mind was. You could hear the beeping of some sort of machine. Your nerves were on fire and alive. The taste of copper blood was very present on your tongue. Your entire upper body felt sore and stiff. Stiffness that also seemed to wax your eyes shut. They were shut as if with staples, which made your heart drop to your stomach in fear. The possibility made you attempt to open them with even more force, though the attempt was futile.

But the sound of aggressive words, bordering on rage-filled yells, made your eyes shoot open. A part of it was the intensity of the sound, but more so were the voices. You couldn't make out the words, but the tone was more than enough.

As you looked around, you realized you were in a dim hospital room. The lighting was warm, as was the bed you occupied. There were no other patients, but multiple seats surrounded your bed. The TV in front of your bed was turned off, and no nurses were around, but you could see a few in the hallway through a long horizontal window. The same window that gave the loud voices faces. Two faces you knew very well: Sejanus and your father.

Your brain still felt like mush, but even if it was at its normal functional levels, you doubted you could have made sense of the situation. First of all, you haven't seen your father in weeks. Well, technically, you did yesterday, the day of the Reaping, even if only for a few moments. Was it only yesterday? How long have you been knocked out? You tried squirming around to find some sort of clock or a window to see the time of day.

Your efforts were of no avail, although your movements knocked off a tray that you didn't notice laid at the end of the hospital bed. A tray that had glass on it because, of course it did. The sudden commotion alerted not only the still shouting men but a number of nurses who rushed through the door. The shattering sound pierced your ears and kept on ringing as an onslaught of voices attacked your eardrums. You couldn't keep track of the flurry of movement. Nurses were cleaning up the mess, others checking your vitals and doing tests. One forced some water down your scratchy and dry throat, much to your relief.

Sejanus stood by the door, watching and waiting to finally approach you. He was soon joined by your father, who was forced away as he kept on interrupting the nurse's tasks. A few minutes and a bunch of vital checks later, the group left, and your father practically ran to your bedside. Question after question was asked with no break for you to actually answer.

"What do you need? More water? Food? Please, what do you need?"

His voice was on the verge of breaking. You examined your father for a moment. How much of his worry was genuine for your well-being? Was he just seeing his late wife in your place?

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Your throat was too dry, but you kept on trying and trying. One glass of water later and only a fraction of your vocal power came back. Something came out, though it was so mumbled and scratchy; your father urged you to repeat it. But Sejanus knew what you were asking for.

Who you were asking for.

"Ccc..Cor-Coryo?"

Your father physically flinched at your first thought. You just suffered a physical attack, and all you care is about pathetic Snow? You shut your eyes after you spoke, the pain in your throat being too much to bear. Though, they snapped open at the sound of a chair scraping the floor and falling back at the force used.

You watched as your father paced back and forth, clearly trying to hold back some anger. Sejanus made eye contact with you, and the compassion on his face gave you some comfort. He mouthed the word "later" to calm any of your questions.

"No."

Any sort of calm given by your friend was scrapped by your father's declaration. The tilt of your head was enough of a translation of your confusion for an elaboration.

"No more 'Coryo'. "

He practically gagged at the nickname, which made you cringe in return. Your father was never a violent or aggressive man and this side of him was not one you wanted to get used to.

"Nothing good ever comes from dealing with Snows. You think he is so pure? If he is anything like his father, his pure white image will be covered in blood."

You wanted to scream but didn't have the physical capability. Thankfully, Sejanus didn't leave the widower's statement unchallenged.

"He isn't like his father. What is so wrong with all you adults? You force children into the footsteps of their parents! Maybe instead of blaming the sins of his father, realize what Coriolanus did for your daughter!"

You wondered how much Sejanus had to deal with when you were unconscious. His appearance was messy and tired. Did he ever leave the hospital since he came? Your question on how long you've been here has still been unanswered.

After Sejanus's argument, your father looked to you. Rage and offense were clear in his orbs. His stare was enough to make a man of good standing cower. But you no longer cared for his opinion, insensible fears, and blind hatred.

"Why are you even here?"

You managed to rasp out and gather enough energy to sit up, never breaking eye contact. The intensity of his emotions didn't waver, but annoyance was added to the list.

"You are my daughter and got hurt by those savages. Where else would I be? What kind of father would I be if I was anywhere else?"

His answer made the two teenagers in the room scoff and roll their eyes. Sejanus for his description of the districts and you for his hypocrisy.

"You wouldn't be a father. Or at least not worthy of the title. Which you aren't, dear dad."

The step the older man took might as well have shaken the floor with the amount of fury radiating off of him. It was enough to make Sejanus panic and rush to your bedside but was halted by the motion of your hand. Whatever was to be done or said, you were willing to take it. It would only give your argument even more credibility.

"What did you say to me, girl?"

What happened to you, Dad? Where did your love-filled gazes go? Your thoughts only heightened your emotions, and you couldn't hold back, even with your breaking voice.

"I said you aren't worthy of being called my father. A father is there for their child even when the mother isn't there! You lost the love of your life, you think I don't know that? Instead of grieving and rebuilding together, YOU LEFT! Did I only mean something when mom was there?! Did you only tolerate me because I was a copy of your wife? Is the image too painful for you now? Would you have treated Otto like this? You loved him, why don't you love me the same?"

Your eyes flooded with tears as your face reddened. You weren't thinking as you shouted, but if you did, you would have thought that the tears would give your father pause. But it seemed any sympathy or piece of the parent you loved so much was gone. Dead. The man in front of you was as cold as the metal rings on your neck. Rings harshly pulled to force your eyes to look at him.

The pain was burning you, and it felt as if you were being stabbed by a thousand miniature knives all over.

"Listen to me now, dear. You think these rings give you any strength? Want to know why I loved your brother so much? He stepped up. He faced whatever came to him, no matter how bad. But you? You are a coward. You left far before I did. Your own mother was dying, and you never gave her the time of day! Were you so ashamed of her? The love of my life only asked for you, and you couldn't even look in her eyes! She gave you her eyes! She gave you life and love, none of which you seem grateful for. Only looking for it in people who are incapable of it. You ever speak either of their names in vain, I promise you, girl, I will—"

"You finish that threat, and I will finish one of my own."

In your struggle to get your father's hands off of the necklace, you didn't hear anyone enter. But you didn't need to look up to recognize the voice. Even though it was laced with more malice than you could have ever thought possible for an eighteen-year-old, the voice of Coriolanus Snow was always recognizable to you.

His fair-skinned hand covered the wrist of your father, whose grip began slipping on your necklace. You couldn't see much from your angle, but it looked like Coryo's thumb was firmly pressed into a specific spot between the other man's wrist. It only took a few more seconds of sharp pain for the harsh grip pulling you forward to be released.

Due to the force the grip held, when it was released, your head flew backward. But Sejanus, who moved to the other side of you without your notice, was quick to catch your head before any impact. You thanked him with a grateful smile, which he returned. You both turned back to the scene before you.

Coryo was standing above your father, the only other man who might despise him as much as Dean Highbottom. He looked disheveled and exhausted, but the air of authority surrounding him made his appearance look respectable. His lip was curled in disgust, and his hand kept on tightening and releasing. As the seconds passed, it felt as if time slowed just to agonize you. The possibility of the young heir of Snow beating up Tyre Vaun was becoming more likely. But he wouldn't do that. No, he wouldn't. He wouldn't, right?

“I don’t think your presence is welcomed here anymore.”

Coryo’s voice was tight and sharp; he really couldn’t stand another moment with a man who threatened his only daughter. In response, the unwelcomed man laughed mockingly. He got up from his spot by your bed and looked around at the three teens in front of his eyes. A dark-haired boy, whose stretched-out curls represented his patience at this point; a girl with a bandaged neck and sullen eyes that reflected her heart at what has become of her family. And of course, the ever-tall and proud blonde who, unlike his companions, is not in the mood for calm action in the slightest. Coriolanus made a vow, and no matter how far he may have to stretch his morals, he will not break that vow.

"Well, look at this. You think you are all so grown up? You are just pampered children. When you watch the games, watch carefully. That's the real world. And well, y/n, you are old enough for the real world now, aren’t you? You want to be a Snow so bad. Knock yourself out. But when you come crying back, don't expect sympathy."

"If you come back. The Snows are known to be quite possessive and strangling.”

And with that chilling statement, he walked straight out the door, shaking his head like a madman. Your eyes were glued to the door frame even as the vision blurred with your tears. You didn't know what to think. It felt as if you were being torn from the inside out, and all you could do is accept the drops streaming down your cheek. All track of time was lost, even more so than before, as your world crumbled.

However, the hospital bed eventually dipped as you were pulled into a pair of arms. Considering the direction in which the arms came, you knew it was Coryo. Well, that and, of course, the smell.

Roses overtook your senses as you calmed down and snuggled into the embrace. Your eyes closed, and your breathing softened while Coryo’s fingers brushed through your locks. As his fingers drifted through your hair, you began drifting off into some much-needed sleep.

Sejanus left soon after Coryo began comforting you, promising to return with some food for the group. The sight upon returning gave him pause in the door frame.

You were curled up in the blonde’s arms while his head laid upon yours, nose stuffed within your hair. It seemed the smell of vanilla calmed him as much, if not more, than the smell of roses did you. The mutual friend worried he was interrupting a sweet moment, no matter how lost he was on it.

Eventually, the weight of the trays within his hands reminded him of his original task. He cleared his throat quietly as he reentered the hospital room. That notified Coriolanus of the other boy’s presence, but he made no move to change his own. No matter how naive Sejanus might be and outspoken, Coriolanus could trust him. If there was one thing about Sejanus Plinth, it was that he was loyal. To Coriolanus Snow and most certainly you.

Sejanus offered a tray of a delicious-smelling soup and rice with a side of bread and dessert to Coryo. He kept one for himself and put the remaining tray on the table next to your bed. Coriolanus rearranged the position you and him were in so he could eat the dinner he desperately needed. He removed the arm that was around your waist which smotherd you impossibly closer to him.

Instead, the boy moved your head to rest on his shoulder. Once ensuring you were comfortably in slumber still, he began digging in. The first few minutes were filled with a comfortable silence between the two boys. Sejanus wasn't sure how much of the situation Coriolanus knows or saw and wasn't even sure where to start. There may even have been parts Sejanus himself didn't see.

When he arrived at the hospital, he wasn’t even allowed to see you as you were in surgery. The woman with hazel eyes and pretty freckles at the front desk informed the distraught boy that it would be a couple of hours before he could even see you. So he decided to go home for the time being and seek comfort in his ma.

But as he began walking out, a very furious Coriolanus Snow shoved past him. Sejanus wished to call out to his friend but it was quite clear, to Sejanus and all those who moved out of the blonde’s way, that he was not to be trifled with at the moment. Considering all the nasty statements your father spit out about Coriolanus and his family, Sejanus very quickly connected the pieces.

Mr. Vaun must have clearly kicked Snow out, not even giving him a chance to see you.

“What a piece of work. No wonder why him and my father get along so well.”

The sudden break in silence made Coryo laugh as he broke apart the bread. Sejanus, along with you, have spoken in detail of Starbo Plinth’s harsh and emotionless character. He liked you well enough, but you assumed it was because you were “Capital enough”.

“He wasn’t always like that. You know, I used to even wish for him to be my dad. He used to always make sure I was comfortable and laughing. Losing your wife is never easy, but he purposely cut off his daughter.”

“And he calls her a coward.”

The scoff was evident in the young star mentor. You confessed to him all your regrets on one of the many nights you spent at the Snow’s. He knew how much it plagued your mind and to hear it used against you broke any further restraint he had.

“Just kept on blabbering how the districts are filled with barbaric animals. Even though y/n wouldn’t even be here if Arachane had a shred of humanity.”

The statement was uttered through clenched teeth. The girl from ten would still have had a chance to live, no matter how brutal and inhumane that chance was, if she wasn't provoked by her own mentor. The thought of all the chaos Archane caused Sejanus’s blood boil.

“Did anyone else come to visit?”

Coriolanus’s voice broke the musing teen out of his thoughts. Coryo had already finished his food, and Sejanus offered his plate, no longer having an appetite. He didn’t know about his friend's financial situation although he saw the signs in his constant hunger and creatively sewn clothes. He never questioned or brought it up, just helping whenever he could. Coriolanus gratefully took the ever-needed food with a nod.

“Festus, Clemmensia, Lyssie, Felix, and Archane. Seems she has a heart somewhere. At least for her own ‘kind.’ Y/n was still knocked out, and they said they would come back. Probably will soon enough.”

Coryo nodded along and looked at the clock on the far wall outside the room, visible due to his angle through the window. 6:56 p.m.

It was still early enough for them to come, and the thought upset him slightly. He wishes to have more time with you. Alone (Sejanus doesn’t count).

Silence overtook the room once more as the two conversing teens settled back into their thoughts. Only the slight noise of your sheets rustling was heard as you moved to find a more comfortable position. Now that he was done with the second tray and the foreign feeling of being full overtaking his stomach, Coriolanus was able to shift.

He turned on his side and pulled you into his chest while wrapping his arms around you. Snuggling to your liking, you ceased to move. However, the quiet was interrupted again by soft laughter. Looking up from staring down at your sleeping form, blue eyes met crinkled brown ones in curiosity,

“So this is how I find out. I started putting the pieces together but was hoping one of you would fess up. Would have be a nice courtesy, you know.”

Sejanus finished off with a smile. When he first started noticing the small smiles that appeared on either of your lips when the other was brought up, he was confused more than anything. Then he felt weird. He would officially become the third wheel, for starters.

But eventually, his heart grew giddy for his two friends. Sejanus wanted you to be happy, and if you asked him, there was no other man in the capital as good as Coriolanus. Sure, he knew he had issues, but compared to the rest of their peers, he was a far better choice.

Said better choice was currently on fire and as red as humanly possible. This was clearly an odd position for him to be in if he saw you as “just a friend”; he knew that. But he didn't know there were signs prior. It made him feel vulnerable that his emotions were so easily deciphered, no matter if it was just Sejanus. It better have just been Sejanus.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Coryo, you are literally snuggling and smelling her hair.”

The prior thought of him being as red as humanly possible? A new record of blushing has occurred. Sejanus, however, was quick to comfort his called-out friend.

“She isn’t much better. She literally parades your ring around. And don't even try to play it off, we both know why she wears it.”

The smug smile on Coryo’s lips would be quite hard to wipe off as he looked back down to your sleeping form. And there it sat, a thousand glistening snowflakes dangling from your neck.

“She is asleep, right? I do not want to suddenly be sucker-punched.”

A deep chuckle came out of the young blue-eyed teen. There were so many nights of you coming over, especially in the early days; you often fell asleep while Coriolanus was finishing up some work. Coryo was eventually able to tell the signs when you were in deep sleep or just faking it to surprise him.

“She is out like a light. Her nose is fluttering. She only does that when she is in deep sleep.”

The words just came out while young Snow was distracted by your soft appearance in the dim lights. You looked so peaceful, as if you weren't in the hospital due to a bloody attack that could have killed you if only the bottle hit you a few meters to the left. When Coriolanus finally realized Sejanus never responded, he looked back up at a face-wide smirk.

“So you know how she sleeps, huh?”

The stuttering response made Sejanus laugh and grin while he walked over to grab the empty trays to throw out. On his way, he made sure to give his friend a pat on the back which only caused further discourse as Coryo tried to deny any of what Sejanus was trying to imply. His trek to the trash can, which was just by the door, wasn't far but gave him enough range to hear the hazel-eyed lady at the front desk.

“She is right down the hall, second door on the left. Just a warning, visiting hours are almost done, so hurry up.”

The hiccuped “thank you” by Clemensia was more than enough to make Sejanus jump to action. In haste, Sejanus informed the still snuggled boy of the upcoming visitors. Coriolanus jumped out of the bed in the blink of an eye and made sure his facade was in place when his peers came through the door.

“Oh, Coryo!”

Clemmie’s cracked voice flowed through the room as she gave him a teary-eyed hug. He gave her an awkward pat on the back. Festus was quick to peel the dark-haired girl off once seeing the uncomfortable look in Coriolanus’s eyes.

Festus led Clemensia to a nearby chair and sat beside her. But Arachane, held back by the door. It seems Felix and Lyssie were unable to visit. A suspicion confirmed by Clemmie as she was in a dazed state looking towards you. Sejanus didn’t wish to be in any room in which the three newcomers were in, but he knew they were your friends.

And they did care about you, one of the very small list of people. He and Coriolanus took turns in responding to the barrage of questions from Festus and Clemensia. Though Arachne never perked up, staying as still as stone. She drowned out the noise as she stared at your injured figure.

If the situation wasn't so morbid, she would have laughed. The ever-mighty girl who has always been little miss perfect got so injured by district scum. But it was little miss perfect who saved my life, Arachne had to defeat.

She wanted to poke fun at the situation. Mock Clemensia's tears. It was how she dealt with situations. Arachne became bitter and poisonous. But it was that same poison she spat at you moments before you nearly lost your life. She said words to hurt you because she wanted you to suffer, and you suffered. But not by her words, but because you jumped in to save her.

The red-haired girl hated it.

Maybe you should have just let her get hit.

With all the sudden voices, you began to stir. Your eyes opened far easier this time, much to your relief. It took a few blinks to take in the situation. Your first instinct was to feel around for Coryo, but you were quickly assured when you met his blue eyes. The small smile was muscle memory to the sight at this point.

You scanned the room and noticed the new visitors. You tried to respond to as many of Clemensia's questions and settle her panic, but it seemed the hysteria was going to stay for the rest of the night.

Although, as you were consoling the raven-haired beauty, you noticed Arachne’s stoic figure. Her eyes were hard and calculating, scanning over you repeatedly. You sighed heavily as you requested the rest of the group to leave you and Arachne for a few moments. They all seemed reluctant, especially Sejanus who heavily despised the girl. She was the reason you were here after all, or at least in Sejanus’s point of view.

The red head stood by the door even as all her peers glanced her way as they filed into the hallway. The position stayed for a few more seconds. Unwavering mask and crossed arms. You didn't waver under her gaze as you gestured to an empty seat by your hospital bed. With a sigh, she took heavy steps to your bedside.

Upon reaching the chair and settling, her prior scrutinizing glances were focused anywhere but you. As the time and silence went on, her tough demeanor began to crack. The silent sole tear streaming down her face stunned you. Of course, Arachne was human and had feelings, but her constant tough character makes one believe she is incapable of tears. As if it's scientifically impossible that the Arachne Crane sat here so timidly and was crying.

“I hate you. I hate you so much.”

Her declaration of hatred wasn't met with any similar response. No, in fact, you responded with giddy laughter. The vulnerable girl in front of you freaked you out slightly, so it was nice to know Arachne was still, well, her.

“How can you just laugh?!”

“What am I supposed to do exactly? Get upset?”

Your eyes were still sore, but that didn't stop your eyes from rolling. You stared back at the girl as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She seemed to heavily disagree as she huffed and threw her arms in the air.

“YES! That's exactly what you should be doing! Get mad at me, tell me you hate me too! That I deserve to be in that hospital bed not you. That I deserved each and every cut because I’m just a monster, right?! I don't have tragedy after tragedy to hide behind like you do!”

Your eyes crinkled in confusion and lips curled in slight anger. Arachne’s tears had heavily accelerated at this point, streams of black painting her pink cheeks. She had stood up and began pacing back and forth, waiting for your response impatiently. Your head was pounding at this point with the amount of emotions you've had to deal with in such a short time. You should have just shut down the conversation before it turned into a full argument, but how could you?

“Hide behind tragedy? Do you think I want to do that? You really think I sit every night and thank my lucky stars that I have ‘excuses’ for my actions?! Grow up Arachne! Tragedy or not, we have to deal with the weight of our actions. Just because your neck isn't bleeding doesn't mean you don't have your scars. Watching me suffer is a greater punishment than if our spots were reversed.”

She stopped in front of your bed, looking more like a lost little girl than the cold calculating young woman you were accustomed to. She wanted you to get mad and have a reaction but she didn't expect this. Because you were right.

If Arachne got hit like you did, she would only have more fuel for hate for the districts. There wouldn't have been any lesson learned, and every fiber of her being would be used to make the districts suffer even more. Yet, you were the one who got hit. Not because you did anything but because Arachne did.

It felt like Arachne stabbed you herself. She didn't like many people and well you were one of the few exceptions, she also disliked you more than the others. When you got sent away in the ambulance, a small part of her hoped you would finally see the barbarity outside the Capital. That you would grow bitter and hateful like she had become.

Arachne Crane has long known of her jealousy of you, though she would never admit it. She hated that after everything you suffered, you still smiled. You were weak, tired, and covered up in gauze in a stale hospital room, but you still looked as if the sun shone only for you.

The universe had favorites, and you seemed to be the apple of its eye while Arachne could only watch while being devoured by the darkness. The stars still shined for you while she suffocated by the black matter.

“I am sorry though. About the Plinth Prize.”

Your voice was soft as you watched your friend shatter in her thoughts. Arachne may have done this to herself, but it still moved you that she lost her shot at something she has been working years for. She just rolled her still crying eyes and scoffed. The girl had long lost hope that she would win the prize when she saw the dazzling show you and Coryo pulled. You both were already the top contenders for the prize, and it angered her again that you both were so chummy. That you weren’t so cut-throat. Cut-throat.

Did you deserve your cut throat for one last task to win the prize?

“We both know it was never going to be me. My tribute would never have won, and she didn't have anything to offer to the audience.”

You were ready to argue with such a blatant statement about a girl who is now a cold body. But she cut you off with a swift change in subject.

“Shame, though. Dr. Gaul won't get to those proposals from her star mentor.”

The emotions and hysteria of the now smirking girl had ceased as she returned to her normal behavior. Behavior, no matter how sour, brought you some comfort. Arachne Crane was good competition if nothing else.

“Well, why not? I’m going to be here until I get released in the morning. Might as well get something done.”

You matched her smirk as you asked for her to bring some parchment and ink. In all honesty, you did forget the proposals. And well, you had a pretty good excuse, an attack and all; you knew that wouldn't matter to Dr. Gaul.

You didn't necessarily like her as she seemed too manic for your taste, but this was a great chance to put your name out there. Especially in the scientific world as you were heavily interested in going down a path in biology, something you had a real knack for. There were few people more important in that field in the Capital than Dr. Gaul. Being able to please, possibly impress her, would be a major accomplishment. And well, you might be able to sway some public opinion enough to give more chances to the “weaker” tributes.

Arachne grumbled as she handed you the desired items, but you ignored her. She took a seat beside you, settling in to watch you work. With a deep breath and dip of your pen, the bold words were written, dark as the punishment it presented.

THE HUNGER GAMES.

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Feedback always appreciated and hope you have a great day love:)

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker 🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit🌹 @scarletstarrs 🌹

[readyforthegarden]

Meet Me in the Romance Aisle

Moodboard and idea by the amazing @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine and her anon who requested the board! And credit to @joshsindigostreak and Anna again for going back and forth and workshopping some dialogue for this!

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, but other than that, none!

WC: 956

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You pursed your lips as your eyes swept over the colorful spines of the stores book collections. A few were already tucked safely in the crook of your arm, recommendations from friends. You'd been slightly bored with your current reading habits, and wanted something a little more...well, something to keep you occupied on your more lonely nights.

It had been a while since you'd gotten into anything new, most of your bookshelf still housing books you grew up with and young adult dystopian novels. It was time to broaden your horizons, even if it was with smut. You were just exiting the romance aisle, a special edition cover of Pride and Prejudice catching your eye and distracting you, causing you to bump into something solid, dropping your small stack of books.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" you immediately apologized with a small laugh, feeling so stupid for bumping into someone. The someone in question was a tall man, or at least, you assumed tall, as he was already bent at the waist, scooping up the books you dropped.

"No, don't be!" the young man also laughed as he righted himself. "I came around that corner too fast, I totally ran into you."

"Well, it takes two to make a collision." you shrugged, taking back the books he handed you. The man smiled at you, and your heart skipped a beat. His smile was slightly crooked, but oh so cute and charming. His curls hung around his face in near perfect coils, framing his sharp cheekbones. His nose was large and you had to resist the sudden urge to reach out and trace the bridge of it with the pad of your index finger. "Thank you."

"It's no problem." he shrugged. "Actually, you may be able to help me. I'm looking for a book my sister asked me to pick up. Her birthday is this weekend, it's something about fairies? It's supposed to be a really popular series..."

"Oh um," you shrugged a bit. "I'm not sure I'd know just off of that...is there anything else you remember about it? I'm just getting back into reading myself." the man nodded, looking a bit dejected and you couldn't stand the lost look that was crossing his face. "But I'd be happy to help figure it out until we can find an employee who might know!" his smile came back at your quick add-on.

"I'd appreciate it." the man smiled. "I'm Danny, by the way." you supplied him with your name, and the two of you shared a smile again.

"So is this a fantasy novel?" you asked. "We might have to move over another aisle."

"I think so," Danny looked unsure again. "I think the cover of it was red?" with the little information he had, the two of you went up and down the rows and walls of books, talking softly between the stacks.

"Do you uh, do you read a lot?" Danny asked. "Well, I mean y'know, before you took a break?" you glanced up at him as you pulled a red spined book off the rack, reading the back to see what it was about.

"Sometimes. I hate to say it, but sometimes I feel like my brain is too busy to read at all, and I get into these funks where I just can't fathom even reading a small magazine article or long distance relatives facebook post." you chuckled a bit under your breath. "And some books are just so long and drawn out, I just can't. Sometimes you need something fast and quick." not realizing what you said, you didn't catch Danny's smirk or the slight shudder of his chest as he held back a laugh.

"I'm not much of a reader myself." Danny admitted, a bit shyly. "I like it enough, but there aren't many things that spark my interest. Usually I read an autobiography or two a year of musicians, my friend Jake lends them to me."

"It can be hard, especially if a love for reading didn't click when you were young." you nodded. "What autobiographies have you read lately?"

"Oh, uh Dave Grohl's is the last one I read."

"You like Foo Fighters or Nirvana better?" Danny grinned at your question.

"Personally, I think they're both great." he answered diplomatically. "Dave himself is just freaking amazing. His talent alone, I wish I was half the drummer he is."

"Oh, you drum?" you raised an eyebrow, grimacing at the long-winded, half-elvish description on the back of a slightly maroon book, decided it definitely wasn't it, and if it was, you were saving this man's sister from suffering.

"A little," Danny seemed shyer now, giving a little shrug. "I'm in a band."

"Oh nice!" you hummed. "What kind of music do you play?"

"Rock, mostly." Danny answered. Giving him a supportive smile, you adjusted the books in your arm.

"If you play one of the clubs around here, I'd love to see you." you answered. You watched as Danny smirked, this time catching the laugh. "What?"

"Well, we're playing around here soon." he admitted, before changing the subject. "Any luck?"

"Not really," frowning, you turned fully towards him. "Have you tried googling? Maybe we can find the author or a better image of the cover?" Danny took his phone out of his pocket and typed in the same descriptors he gave you. After letting the page load, you peered over his shoulder and sighed seeing the first image. "Ohh that one."

"You know it?"

"Yeah, it wasn't for me, but a lot of people seem to like it. It's a whole series." you answered. "Come on, I can show you now." Danny followed you to where the copy of the book and all of it's sequels were waiting, in the romance section. Plucking it off the shelf, you handed it to him.

"Thanks, I would've been here all day if it weren't for you." Danny smiled that crooked smile at you, and you felt a small pang in your chest, realizing your time with him was now over.

"It was my pleasure." you smiled. "Just uh, if that's for your sister, don't google anymore of it." Danny looked at you quizzically, tilting his head like a labrador retriever.

"Why not?"

"There's a reason we're back in the romance section, Danny." you gave him a look, and you saw him pale slightly.

"Got it." he glanced at you, then to the books in your arms. He seemed like he was stalling, trying to figure out how to stay in your presence. "Well I met you here, what are your books about?" you saw him try and read the back of the book facing towards him. "A reverse harem eh?"

"That," you began, clutching the books closer to your chest. "is third date talk only, Danny." Danny leaned against the shelf of books, looking coolly at you.

"Well we could knock out one date now, d'you have to be anywhere this afternoon?" you blushed, knowing your only plans were going to be going home and getting settled in before ordering takeout and reading your night away.

"As a matter of fact, I don't."

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It wasn't long before weekend trips to the bookstore led to dinners out, to drinks after work, and sometimes scandalous makeouts between the stacks when the store was dead and the workers once again, weren't to be found. Before one such date, which is what you and Danny were now labeling every single outing you took together, he had heard your coffee order and memorized it, meeting you early with it already in hand before following you around the book store as you browsed.

Ever the voracious reader when you were in the groove, you'd consumed several books in a short amount of time, on the hunt for more.

"This one sounds interesting," you piped up. "It's a modern retelling of Hades and Persephone, oooh a dark romance." you gasped under your breath, reading the inside of the jacket. In an instant, it was in Danny's open palms, along with two others you had sparked an interest in. As you browsed, you stopped in your tracks. Danny looked curiously, watching as you bent down and with the utmost care pulled an ornate book from the shelf.

"Pride and Prejudice?" he asked. You nodded, it was the same copy that had distracted you and led you to bump into Danny all those weeks ago. You regarded it fondly, feeling as if it had brought you and him together.

"It's cliche, but it's a favorite of mine." you sighed. "I already have two other special editions, I can't justify a third, but it's so pretty. And the pages are gilded ugh!" you closed your eyes, tucking it back onto the shelf, patting the cover like the top of a puppy's head. "I hope she goes to a good home." you continued on your journey, nothing else really stopping and catching your eye. At the registers, you took your stack from Danny, watching as he slipped a book out and moved to the open cashier next to you. You couldn't get a glimpse of the book he chose, but carried on to pay, giving him your rewards membership info to get points toward future purchases.

When you both were leaving, you curiously leaned across his body, trying to obnoxiously peek into the bag he carried. He laughed, pushing you back gently.

"What did you get? We didn't go anywhere near the non-fiction section today." Danny opened his bag and pulled out the book. It was the special edition of Pride and Prejudice you nearly weeped over. "Danny!"

"What?" he defended with a grin. "You said you couldn't justify a third copy. I don't own any copies, it just seemed like common sense for me to buy it."

"You're so-" you pursed your lips, trying to find the right words. "You're so wonderful." Danny leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. In all honestly on his part, he bought it, knowing that a few years down the road, he hoped it'd find a home next to your other editions, on a bookshelf in your shared home.

"Besides, I've never read it, and I think I'd probably like it if you read it to me."

"Oh yeah?" you raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't rather me read about the tall, handsome, curly headed vampire who makes hot, steamy love with his human companion multiple times in one chapter?" Danny stopped in his tracks, staring at you.

"No, let's finish that." he looked around the shopping center sidewalk before scooping you into his arms, placing a kiss on your neck before giving it a little sharp bite. "Let's finish that tonight."

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Taglist: @joshsindigostreak @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @sunfl0wer-power @indigo-starcatcher @sammyscherub @earthlysorrows @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @losfacedevil @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvff @gretavanfleetposts @sacredthefran @josiee-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @madneedshelp @gardensgatedaisy @demonrat444 @writingcold @dannyandthekiszkas @lightmylove-gvf @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @happy-harpy-stuff @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @jankandjonch @gvfpal

@allybjt @hippievanfleet @weightofbrokenbells @joshkiszkasbadussy @malany-gvf @ruby0antlers @samofthedawn @sacredjake @aim4thedoublee @diditallforyouu @gvfmarge @highladyofasgard @sammysvanfeet@gold-mines-melting @earthgrlsreasy @mountain-in-springtime @forcebond301 @stardust-and-shadows @llightmyllovee @gretavangroupie @comesofarsomehow @starcatcherkiszka @indigofallingsky @hellowgoodbye

[ladyantiheroine]

Strangers Make The Best Lovers

Summary: Two spies meet in a bar in Cuba. One of them walks away in love.

Pairing: Neil (Tenet) x Paloma (No Time to Die)

Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+)

Word Count: 7,666 words

Author's Note: I posted this on AO3 a long time ago and now I'm posting it Tumblr just because I feel like it.

She saw him before he saw her, but she wouldn’t let him think that. After a year of working for the CIA, Paloma had learned that the best way to seduce men was to let them live in the happy delusion that they were in control. So, she sat at the bar and rolled her cocktail glass around the counter, feigning complete obliviousness to the handsome blonde across the room behind her.

La Casa de Oro was one of those hotels that was so decadent you felt sinful just walking into it. An ancient structure of gorgeous architecture, filled with expensive people in expensive clothes drinking expensive liquor. The place even smelled like money. Tonight was one of the slower nights, as there were only a handful of patrons and Paloma was the only one seated at the bar. Her eyes glazed over the rows of bottles backlit behind the counter. The bartender, a pretty young man in a blazer, approached her.

“Would you like anything else, miss?” he asked her in Spanish.

Paloma was about to order her usual, but then a memory from the year before came to her and she grinned.

“A martini,” she said. “Shaken, not stirred.”

The bartender left her alone to prepare the drink. Of all the memories she could have of James Bond, how curious it was that his drink order was what she remembered first.

The hotel was just down the road from El Nido Bar, the same establishment that hosted the Spectre party that Paloma had attended with the former 007 just a year before. She was even wearing the same deep blue gown and diamond jewelry from the night. She would have felt nostalgic if her mind hadn’t been occupied with other things.

Sorry, Mr. Bond, she thought playfully to herself. I have my mind on another man tonight. 

Paloma didn’t need to look over her shoulder at the gentleman, because she could feel his eyes on her. When you were a beautiful woman working in espionage, you learned to feel men’s gazes like a sixth sense. He could only see the back of her head from where he sat. His eyes started at her short dark hair, then trailed down her bare back to her floor length skirt. Perhaps he was wondering if her face was as pretty as the rest of her (it was) or if she looked as good without the dress and diamonds (wouldn’t he like to know).

She didn’t know his name. According to her superiors at the CIA, all they had on him was a photograph and the name of his organization: TENET. A curious palindrome of a name for a group that had remained secret for years. But it wasn’t his name that mattered as much as what he had on him. Specifically, information about Tenet. Documents, an agent ID, items that could be traced back to a place of origin. If all went well, then the CIA would be closer to locking down Tenet in less than twenty-four hours.

But for now, the bartender brought her her martini and she took it in her hand by its long glassy stem. She lifted it to her lips and crossed one elegant leg over the other.

~

Don’t get any dangerous ideas, Neil’s brain whispered to him. But despite his otherwise rational, scientific mind, he was having all sorts of dangerous ideas. Such as, for example, walking up to the bar to talk to the gorgeous siren sitting there.

She had been sitting there when he first walked in, but he didn’t notice her until he sat down on one of the empty lounge seats across the room. When he did notice her, he nearly choked on his first sip of the drink the waitress had brought him.

Unlike others in his field, Neil didn’t indulge himself on work trips very often. Despite being told he had a charming demeanor and was flirtatious to a fault, he rarely gave into his baser instincts while on a mission. Not that his current assignment was particularly pressing. He and his boss were meeting a few fellow Tenet agents based in Cuba to discuss future plans. Nothing exciting like their usual agendas, just business. 

But agents who weren’t firing bullets or chasing targets were still agents, therefore they had to remain vigilant about who they spoke to and when. Neil’s boss wasn’t due to arrive in Cuba until the following morning, leaving him bored in the hotel room they arranged for him. He decided to come down to the hotel bar for a drink and listen to the live pianist for some entertainment.

But now the piano melody was only background noise, as was the chattering of other patrons and the clinking of cocktail glasses. There was a gold and blue glow over the bar and everything became a shadowed silhouette except for her.

The life of an agent meant having no connections or ties. You needed to be willing to let go of anything that was no longer serving the mission. Things, people, your own life if things got desperate. Any second spent thinking of something that was irrelevant to the job at hand could be the difference between success and a bullet in your head.

Maybe he was growing soft, maybe it was the vodka tonic he was finishing off, but Neil kept forgetting why he was in Cuba in favor of staring at the girl at the bar. No, not girl. Woman. Girls came and went, but women stuck with you like a stain you couldn’t scrub out.

A tall, elegant figure in a blue evening gown with an open back to reveal smooth, tanned flesh. He watched the bartender bring her a drink, and she plucked it from the counter. A diamond bracelet, long crimson nails. 

But the primary thing he noticed about her was that she was alone. A woman as beautiful as her couldn’t possibly be anywhere alone unless it was by choice. Perhaps she was waiting for a date to arrive. Perhaps she was mending a broken heart after some blind idiot mishandled her. Perhaps, Neil thought, she was looking for someone.

Whatever her reason, they were both alone and unoccupied. And it was such a shame that someone like her would be sitting alone, and so unchivalrous of him to notice and do nothing about it.

The young woman crossed one leg over the other, and that’s when he noticed the slit in her skirt that nearly ran up to her waist. A long, smooth leg with a black high-heeled shoe. He hadn’t even seen her face yet and already he was sweating under his collar.

Neil had grown up on the coast of England, and he remembered the stories they used to tell of sailors and sirens. Men would spot a beautiful woman out on the empty sea, and the sound of her song with the promise of a kiss would drown them in the waves. Beautiful women were dangerous, the myths warned, if men let themselves get swept up in their song.

But unlike the men who told such tales, Neil was not afraid of danger.

He tipped his head back and downed the rest of his vodka tonic. The half-melted ice clinked against the glass and the burn was sweet down his throat. He set the empty glass down, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then adjusted his tie.

~

Only seven minutes past the hour, and Paloma finally heard him move. A chair pushed backward across the floor, footsteps approached closer from behind her, and finally, a male voice made its introduction.

“Poor pianist,” he said. “Playing in a room where no one is listening.”

Paloma turned to the man leaning against the counter next to her. He seemed handsome from a distance, but up close Paloma was struck by how pretty he was. Deep blue eyes, neatly combed blonde hair, and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. On top of that, he was impeccably dressed. A dark navy suit with a crisp, white button-down shirt and matching tie. An expensive watch winked at her from his wrist and his shiny leather shoes looked brand new.

This is going to be a challenge, Paloma thought to herself.

“What makes you think no one is listening?” she asked.

Neil’s eyes flicked over Paloma’s shoulder to the pianist. A neatly-dressed older gentleman seated at a shiny black piano, slowly tracing his fingers across the keys. He was deep in thought, unaware there was an audience at all.

“Well, everyone here is either talking or staring into their drinks,” he said. Paloma clocked from his accent that he was English. Tenet must have had plenty of international agents. “No one seems to be paying attention to him.”

“Well, of course,” Paloma said. “You don’t watch music anymore than you listen to a painting.” She grinned and shrugged. “I’ve been listening to him all evening. He’s very good.”

Paloma cocked her head to lift her ear. She paused for a moment, her eyes away from Neil’s.

“Tu, by Eduardo Sanchez de Fuentes,” she said. She looked at him again. “Do you know that one?”

The look on his handsome face said she stumped him.

“I can’t say I do,” he said.

“It’s a classic here,” Paloma said. “Maybe I can pay him a few pesos and see if he knows any Thomas Tallis or Benjamin Britton or…” She looked him up and down. “Freddy Mercury?”

Neil chuckled and glanced down at the floor. Paloma smirked at his flusteredness. Perhaps he wasn’t used to such elaborate responses to his lines.

“I’ll admit I’m not a music expert,” he says. “Are you?”

“I used to play myself for a time,” Paloma said. It wasn’t a lie. Her mother put her in piano lessons as soon as Paloma was old enough to read. “Fuentes is from Havana, just like me. I grew up with his music.”

She lifted her martini to her lips and took a long sip. Neil watched her, and the red stain her lipstick left on the glass. She swallowed audibly then set it down.

“And what about you?” she asked. “Are you an expert on anything?”

It took all of Neil’s willpower not to make some sly wouldn’t you like to know remark. She was charming, and he wanted to savor their chat as long as he could. 

“I’ll admit I’m a musical amateur,” he said. “The arts are not my area of expertise. Science is more of my specialty.”

“Oh,” Paloma said. Her dark eyes widened and her mouth made an O-shape and Neil wondered if those bloody lips tasted like black cherry or pomegranate. “What kind of science?”

“Physics,” he said. He wouldn’t elaborate any further. He wasn’t about to give away his post to a stranger.

“A physicist?” she said. “Work for anyone interesting? Or do you teach?”

Neil shrugged and glanced towards the wall of bottles behind the bar.

“I guess you could call it educational,” he said. If instructing agents as a handler counted as education. “It’s all very boring, and I don’t want to put you to sleep.”

It was a vague answer. The kind of response that brushed questions away like flies. No matter. Paloma wasn’t here to make a friend. She was here to gather materials on Tenet, and maybe see what was under that lovely suit while she was at it.

“I don’t like talking about work off the clock either,” she said. She finished the last sip of her drink and looked at Neil over the rim of her glass. “Though I’m sure your work in physics is quite fascinating.”

She held his gaze as she set her glass down. Neil resisted the urge to tug at his collar.

I’d be happy to show you something physical, his mind whispered.

Too forward. Instead, he gestured to her freshly empty glass.

“You always get martinis?” he asked.

“Shaken, not stirred,” Paloma said. “An old colleague of mine liked it that way.”

“You must work with more fun people than me. My boss never drinks on the job. Always had a Diet Coke when he was thirsty.”

“Well.” Paloma snapped her fingers at the bartender. “Two Jack and Cokes, please.” She turned to Neil with a playful smile. “To honor your boss who never drinks.”

Neil smirked as the bartender bought them two fizzing drinks, each with a slice of lime. Paloma and Neil took their glasses from the tray and the waiter left them alone.

“To your friend’s sobriety,” Paloma said.

“To his sobriety,” Neil said.

They clinked glasses and each took a long sip. They both had vodka in their systems, and now with the added whiskey they were both starting to feel a little limp. 

For the following hour, the two chatted through their glasses of whiskey. Paloma regaled about the best spots in Havana for everything a visitor could want, while Neil spun yarns about his time at Oxford. He dropped a few corny whiskey jokes (“I can walk on water but I just kind of stumble on whisky”) and Paloma responded with a few jabbing quips. The whole time, neither of them told the other their name.

“Is this your first time in Cuba?” she asked.

Neil sipped down the last droplets in his glass. His glass was down to a few clinking pieces of half-melted ice and his upper lip was shiny wet. Paloma resisted the temptation to grab her napkin and wipe his mouth dry.

“It is,” he said. “My…company is expanding to Havana. We’re meeting a lot of interesting new additions to the group.” He set his cup down. “And what about you?” Have you been to the UK?”

“Plenty of times,” Paloma said. “My old colleague, the one with the martinis, he was English.”

“Do you run into Englishmen often?”

“Only the handsome ones who can identify Fuentes.”

“Ouch.”

The whiskey was getting low in both their glasses. Paloma was still mostly upright. She prided herself on being a heavyweight. You needed to be in order to throw back shots one moment and shoot up targets the next. Neil, on the other hand, seemed on the lighter end. Still coherent, but a bit gigglier than when he first stepped up to the bar. This was good, if anything, because he had a nice laugh.

Things were going smoothly, and Paloma was enjoying herself. Most of the time, handling targets felt mechanical. A series of words and gestures and smiles that would lock and lay men like bullets in a bed chamber. But more than once, Paloma laughed at one of Neil’s jokes and briefly forgot what she was here for.

She needed to speed things up. If anything, because she was feeling hot under her skirt and her eyes kept looking at his hands on the glass.

“Don’t worry,” she said. She pressed a hand to his knee. “Everyone I know can play a little piano. I’ve yet to meet someone who can explain reverse entropy.”

Neil dropped his eyes to her hand then lifted them back up to hers. Maybe it was the alcohol or the dim light, but this nameless woman seemed to sparkle. Her eyes were piercing and her smile was knowing and it took resistance not to press his mouth to her crimson lipstick.

“And I’ve never met a woman who could drink me under the table,” he said. “Or remain so charming while she insulted me.”

Paloma’s hand slowly crawled up his thigh and Neil’s blood surged. He felt himself slipping from control, but for the first time, he welcomed it. She leaned close enough that he could smell her perfume, something dark that lingered like a pheromone. He hoped her hand would reach for his shirt and pull him closer.

They were interrupted when the bartender approached them.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I hate to bother you, but we’re closing in ten minutes.”

Paloma glanced at the clock on the wall behind the bar. It was past midnight, and when she glanced around the room, the few remaining patrons were gathering up to leave. Even the pianist stopped his playing and was packing away his repertoire. Time had slipped right past her without her even noticing. 

“Of course,” she said, turning back to the bartender. “We’ll take the tab.”

The bartender brought it over and Neil swiped it up before Paloma could reach for her purse.

“You’ve paid with your company,” he said. “Let me have this one.”

He signed the check and sent the bartender off. Now was Paloma’s shot to secure this target. They could part to their separate rooms on friendly terms, or she could persuade him to take her upstairs with him. So, when she stood up from the bar stool, she toddled and grabbed Neil’s shoulder for balance.

“Maybe a whisky after a martini was a bad idea,” she giggled.

Not true, she was still mostly coherent. But if Neil could tell, he was keen to play along. He smiled and pressed a hand to Paloma’s back.

“Do you need help to the elevator?” he asked.

She gave him a smile.

“How gentlemanly,” she said.

Neil offered her his arm and she took it as they sauntered out of the bar. Most of the patrons had already left, so they were alone crossing the hallway to the elevator. Neil pressed the button and when the door split, they had the compartment to themselves.

The doors shut and Neil hit the floor button. There were eighteen floors, and Neil was on floor seventeen, giving them a long way up to the top.

“What’s your floor?” he asked.

“It’s…” 

Paloma felt around the pockets of her dress, and sighed.

“Dammit,” she said. “I lost my key. It had my room number on it.”

Obvious lie, but it got the message across. A glint crossed Niel’s eyes.

“Well, I guess we can go back to the lobby and ask for an extra key,” he said.

He stood still and erect when Paloma leaned closer to him. The elevator suddenly felt small and sweltering and his skin buzzed when their bodies brushed.

“Sure,” Paloma said. She looked at the floor number glowing red above the door, watching it reach the double digits. “But…we’re already heading up, and I’d hate to inconvenience you.”

Paloma stood closer to him, far closer than even an elevator required. She could smell the Dior on his collar and see the pricks of stubble on his face. His fingers itched to caress his jawline. Instead, she trailed them along his tie.

Neil smirked. His fingertips grazed the curve of her waist.

“You’re too kind,” he said. They were so close he could feel her breath against his lips. “But where will you sleep tonight?”

Paloma’s fingers curled around his tie until it wrapped around her knuckles. She could practically feel the vibrations of his heartbeat. She was feeling hungry and the elevator couldn’t move fast enough.

“I think I know somewhere cozy I can slip in,” she said.

With a sharp tug, she pulled his lips down to hers. Neil relented immediately, sinking into her kiss with a moan. Her breath was hot in his mouth and he was so hard that his legs trembled a little. Her hands found his hair and his hands found her waist and he pressed her against the cool marble wall of the elevator. She was soft as silk in his arms and her sighs in his ear made the hair on his neck stand.

Paloma tried to retain her composure. One foot in pleasure, the other foot in the task at hand. Though at least one of those feet slipped balance when Neil started kissing along her neck and all the blood rushed down her body.

Neil found the long slit of her dress and bruised his hand up her thigh until he found the waistband of her underwear. Silk negligee underneath. Fuck, this woman wanted to kill him. He slid his fingers under the fabric and felt around until he found an opening. She was hot and wet and open as a rose. Thick kiss to her neck, he pressed his fingers inside.

“Mierda,” Paloma gasped.

She clasped her arms around his shoulders. Neil kept kissing and licking her neck while he pushed his fingers deeper inside, fingering against her sweet spot. Her fingers curled into his hair and he groaned when she pulled.

Neil must have been a bit of a paramour himself, because he knew a woman’s body like his own hand. He knew just where to curl his curls and just where to press down and just the tempo to have Paloma arching her back. She bit down hard into his shoulder but the pain only seemed to spur him on more.

“So beautiful,” he muttered into her neck. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Paloma’s nails dug into Neil’s hair and skin. She moved her hips in tantum with his hands, waves of heat rushing up her body and pushing moans from her throat. She wanted to wet his fingers right there, but her brain was just loud enough to remind her why she was here. She needed to get his room.

Besides, she wanted to fuck him properly.

The elevator rang when they reached the seventeenth floor. The door split and thankfully, no one was there. Paloma looked at Neil and pulled his hand out from under her dress. She gave him a leering smile.

“Don’t you know not to play with your food?” she said.

Neither of them remembered the walk down the hallway. One moment they were stepping out of the elevator, Neil’s hands fumbling for the keycard in his back pocket, and the next the door was slamming shut behind them and they were against the wall again. Paloma’s knuckles paled, and gripping his shirt, she pulled him towards the bed.

Neil’s back hit the mattress and Paloma was on top of him before he could do anything about it. The alcohol and the shock to the senses was electrifying. Paloma straddled Neil’s waist and he pulled off his blazer. He needed her skin against his.

Paloma curled her fingers into his hair. She smacked thick kisses along his mouth, his jaw, his neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of red behind. Neil's eyes fluttered shut and he sunk into the mattress. 

Paloma smacked her lips from his and sat up straight. The room was dark save for the full moon dripping silver light inside. The light met her eyes, the wisps of her hair, and Neil felt helpless underneath her. He grinned while she unbuttoned his shirt.

“Didn’t think I’d be fucking from the bottom,” he said.

Paloma smirked and grabbed his face with one hand.

“How cute,” she said. “You think you’re the one doing the fucking.”

Those words sent a rush down Neil’s body and he was hard enough that she could feel him under her skirt. Paloma released his face and pulled the last button from his shirt. Her hands took their time smoothing down his chest. For a man who belonged in his physicist’s lab, his body wasn’t the kind that belonged under a lab coat or suit. It belonged stripped to the flesh and pressed against silk sheets.

Paloma felt a hot flush and she couldn’t help herself. She cupped his face and brought her lips back down to his, moaning into the kiss. Neil was a puddle beneath her, his hungry hands running up her thighs under her skirt and circling her waist. Paloma threaded her fingers in his pale hair. Fuck, he was a good kisser. She couldn’t get enough of him. She could eat him alive.

But then, her thoughts crawled back to her. The mission. 

Despite the ravenous burn in her skin, fucking the Tenet agent would be pointless if she didn’t get anything from him. She needed to find something, before she disappeared into his body and forgot why she came.

Paloma pulled her mouth from Neil’s and sat up straight again. They were both sweating and panting already and he wasn’t even inside her yet. Neil's hands crawled up to her chest, searching for a zipper or button. She snatched his hand.

“I have an idea,” she said.

Paloma reached down to his belt buckle and tugged it from his pants. Then, she took Neil’s hands and looped the belt around his wrists, before pulling it tight. Neil’s breath hitched when the dark leather caught his flesh.

“I love it when a man comes prepared,” she said. “With the right tools.”

She pushed his hands above his head onto the mattress. Neil grunted at the sudden impact. She was stronger than she looked and it was making his head spin a little. Her face hovered above him, a devilish look in her eye. 

He needed to get a hold of himself. He cleared his throat and gave her his best smirk.

“I guess I should’ve known better than to talk to strangers at a bar,” he said.

Paloma chuckled deep in her throat, a sound that made his blood surge. She grabbed the knot of his tie and yanked it from his throat. 

“Maybe you’re not as smart as that Master’s makes you look,” Paloma said.

She tugged the tie in both hands, then pressed the navy silk to Neil’s eyes. She tied it into a knot behind his head, leaving him blinded in the dark. Oh, this was cruel. She was going to ravish him and not even grant him the privilege of looking at her while she did. She was evil and it made his heart surge.

Once his eyes were covered, Paloma slipped off his body. If she was going to do this now, she had to make it quick. She spotted his suitcase on the floor off the side and stepped quietly over to it.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

He was squirming on the mattress, erection tenting his boxers. Paloma slowly, silently, unzipped his suitcase.

“I just like watching you,” she said. “And I need to slip out of this dress.”

Both statements were true, but Paloma also needed time to search. Thankfully, Neil was either supremely arrogant or supremely stupid, because she found something in the inner pocket lining of his bag. Her fingers curled around a piece of plastic and she pulled out a hard drive. The name TENET gleamed up at her in silver font. It was too easy.

He was too easy.

Paloma slipped the hard drive into the pocket of her dress, before standing up and slipping the dress from her shoulders. It fell in a deep blue puddle on the floor and she stepped out of her heels onto the carpet.

“So handsome,” she said. She pressed a knee to the edge of the bed and crawled forward on top of him. “Would be a shame if someone were to…make a mess of you.”

She whispered right against his lips and pressed her body down against his. He couldn’t see her, but he could feel her warm skin and the silk of her underwear. Neil tugged at his restraints but this woman could tie one hell of a knot.

Paloma finished stripping him down. By the time she was done, there was a mess of clothes on the carpet. Once Neil was down to his boxers, Paloma hooked a finger into the front seam and twisted it.

“Fuck…” Neil shuddered. He was already leaking pre-come in his boxers. This woman was torturing him and he could feel the bemused smirk on her face.

Paloma could watch him squirm for hours, but her underwear was wet and with the flash drive secured she could finally enjoy herself. For a moment, she wondered if she could torture him enough to get him to confess something, spill some information.

“By the way…” she said, slowly pulling down the front of his underwear. “I don’t think you ever told me your name, handsome…”

His cock was red, hard and ready for her. She slowly trailed the tips of her fingernail along his length and Neil arched his back with a shiver.

“God, fuck,” he hissed.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell me?”

Neil’s brain was half-melted and he couldn’t quite understand why she was asking. It seemed a little late for names, and besides, she didn’t need his name to fuck him.

“Why don’t you tell me yours?” he quipped. 

Paloma smirked and wrapped her fingers around his cock. Every nerve in Neil’s body was directed at her hand, his hips twitching into her touch.

“You first,” she said.

She leaned closer to his face, close enough he could feel her hot breath on his mouth, smell her perfume mingled with her sweat. Her hand worked his cock slowly. Agonizingly slow. Neil gasped and moaned as waves of pleasure stirred up his body.

“God, please,” he muttered.

“Don’t talk to God, guapo,” Paloma said, and took his chin with her free hand. “Talk to me.”

She moved her hand faster, faster until Neil’s moans grew louder and he started teetering closer to the edge. Then, just as his jaw was clenching, she stopped. Neil lifted his head, a droplet of sweat on his temple.

“Wha…” he breathed. “Why’d you…”

“I want to know your name,” Paloma said. “I feel like I should know your name before everyone in this hotel does.”

Neil was resistant. His cock was throbbing in her hand and he was slick with sweat.

“Please,” he begged. “Fuck, it hurts.”

“Just tell me your name, and I’ll let you go,” she said.

Neil bit hard down on his lower lip but it felt like his body was being incinerated. His thoughts were foggy and he didn’t know where he was and he just wanted to her to fuck him within an inch of his life already.

“Neil,” he breathed.

“Neil what?”

“That’s all you’re getting from me,” he hissed between his teeth.

He dropped his head back and groaned, in pain or pleasure Paloma couldn’t quite tell. Her hand or not, he was getting close, and she wasn’t going to let a nice cock go to waste.

“Tell me…” Neil panted. “Tell me yours…”

Yeah, not happening, Paloma thought.

She snatched up his length again to silence him. She reached down and peeled her underwear down, letting it fall to the floor. She took Neil’s cock in her hand, then slowly lowered her dripping pussy down on top of him. Neil gasped like he’d been punched in the stomach.

“Fuck,” he groaned. If his hands hadn’t been bound above his head, he would have been gripping the bedsheet. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Oh, she’d forgotten how sweet profanity sounded on an English tongue. Paloma licked her lips as she took him inside her. The man felt as nice as he looked, the perfect fuck toy.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth on you,” she teased. She traced her thumb along his lips and Neil was tempted to open his mouth to let her inside. “Let's make you sing.”

She started swerving her hips, slow at first, savoring, then started speeding up. The mattress springs sung underneath them and Neil went limp as a rag doll. Fuck, she felt amazing. Hot and tight, gripping his cock like a clasp. His hands itched to grab her hips.

Paloma tipped her face up to the ceiling, dark hair falling down her back. Her nails dug into his flesh to maintain her balance while she rode his cock. It was a shame this was just a mission. In any other circumstances, she would have kept him under her for days.

His length slid deeper inside of her and Paloma bit her lip in a moan. Neil’s hips bucked up to meet her, savoring the hot flow of her juices consuming him. His moans deepened to grunt and growled while he was helpless to snap from his restraints.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck, I can’t…”

Paloma smirked and licked his bottom lip.

“Good boy,” she purred between labored breaths. 

They both became louder as their pace quickened, loud enough that the walls of the hotel couldn’t contain them. Neil gave up any intention to stay low during his stay, and moaned at the top of his lungs, his tongue wishing he had her name to scream down the hall.

Meanwhile, Paloma was burning red and whispered his name like a spell.

“Neil.”

They came together, with the force of a glass bottle shattered against a wall. The mattress springs sung under their weight and the bed structure creaked like it could crack. Paloma pressed her hands to Neil’s chest, feeling his heart knock at his ribs.

Neil was spent and limp as a ragdoll. Sweat percolated his temple and stained the sides of the tie covering his eyes. He curved his neck back on the mattress, his chest rising and falling with his breath. Paloma leaned down and playfully bit his Adam’s apple, leaving a lipstick stain behind.

“Tell me your name,” he said. “I need to know who you are.”

Paloma smiled and curled into him.

“I’m your dream girl,” she purred. “I’m a sweet dream you can fall asleep to.”

The air in the room was warm and thick. For several minutes, neither Neil nor Paloma remembered where they were or why they were here. The only thing they could recall was their skin pressed together while they drifted off into a smooth, boozy sleep.

~

Neil couldn’t open his eyes when he woke up. For a moment, his heart lurched his chest and he wondered if he’d been captured. Something blindfolded his eyes and his arms were bound above his head. His whole body was naked and shivered in the exposed air.

Before he could panic, the memories of the night before trickled into his ear. He’d gone downstairs to the bar, had a vodka tonic followed by a Jack and Coke, and he spoke to a woman—

His whole body flared red hot in the memory of her. Dark hair, dark eyes, hellish lips and perfect hips that fucked him dry. She strung him up and had her way with him before disappearing back into whatever paradise she came from.

Neil tugged at his restraints until they finally broke loose. His leather belt snapped and the sound made him jolt. He pulled off the tie that covered his eyes and looked around. White morning light streamed from the hotel curtains. Everything was nearly exactly as it had been the night before. Except, a certain blue gown was gone.

Neil swung his legs over the side of the bed and plucked his boxers off the floor. Just as he was stepping into them, he heard his phone ring. After searching around, he found it in the pocket of his pants on the floor.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Neil.” It was his boss, Tenet’s founder. “I’ve just landed and I’m about to head over to the hotel. I’m just checking in. Everything alright?”

Neil stumbled towards the bathroom and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. From his lips to his jaw, down his neck and to his chest, he was speckled with red lipstick stains. He pressed a hand to one on his collarbone, and a hot surge ran through his body.

“Uh, yes, everything is good,” Neil said. Fuck, he was not about to get an erection with his boss on the phone. “I’m just…having breakfast.”

“Well, good. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes then we can head to the base, yeah?”

Neil grabbed a towel and wet it in the sink.

“Yes, excellent,” he said. “I’ll be ready when you arrive.”

He slathered some soap on his face and neck and started scrubbing away. 

“You okay?” his boss asked. “You sound a little…out of breath.” 

Whatever lipstick that woman used, it was damn near impossible to wash out. Neil rubbed at his neck until his flesh was raw red.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I…went for a jog this morning, still catching my breath.”

“I had no idea you jogged.”

“Yes, I also enjoy long walks on the beach. I’ll meet you by the front.”

Neil quickly hung up and finished soaping himself clean. Then he threw on one of the suits he had packed and readied himself in the mirror. He downed a coffee and a bagel from the downstairs cafe and made it to the front of the building just in time for his boss to pull up in a taxi.

“Neil,” he said, stepping out of the car. “Looking sharp.”

“Bienvenido a Cuba,” Neil said, shaking his boss’s hand. “The others are coming around to pick us up. They should be here soon.”

His boss nodded. At some point as the two waited outside the hotel, he glanced over at Neil.

“Did you get hurt?” he asked.

Neil looked at him.

“What do you mean?” he asked

His boss tugged at his shirt collar and pointed to his neck.

“You’ve got something red right there,” he said. “Is that a bruise or something?”

Neil pulled his phone out of his pocket and examined his neck in the camera. Dammit. In the right side of his neck was a spot he missed. From a distance, you can say it was a scrap. But when his boss leaned closer, he could see it was clearly mouth-shaped.”

His boss gave him a sly smirk.

“Neil,” he said. “You didn’t go jogging this morning, did you?”

Neil couldn’t think of another lie, so he just sighed and smirked back.

“I may have treated myself to the bar downstairs last night,” he said. “And I may have run into a lovely senorita while I did.”

Lovely. He may as well have described the ocean as “wet.”

His boss snickered.

“No need to lie about stuff like that, Neil,” he said. Then, his face cooled. “You didn’t tell her anything, did you?”

To be honest, everything that happened before they made it to the elevator was a bit blurry to Neil. Blame it on the alcohol. But he wasn’t going to tell his boss that.

“Truthfully, I don’t think we did all that much talking,” Neil said with a grin.

The car arrived and Neil slid into the backseat with his boss. While the three other agents chanted, Neil glanced out the window and watched the city pass by them. Just under his suit, his skin still burned with memories of the night before.

Paloma. Her name rolled around his mouth like a hard sour candy. All he had had on her was her face and her name, no other proof that she wasn’t some drunken figment of his imagination.

He pulled his attention from his thoughts long enough to open his briefcase. He rifled around inside for the flash drive with the new database he hoped to show the Cuban associates. But all he found inside were papers and folders, nothing resembling a hard drive.

Then, his hands found something hard and solid, but it wasn’t the flash drive. He pulled out a ring-shaped diamond necklace.

It hit him slowly, like an ice cube melting in his palm. His briefcase was closed tight shut in his zipped-up suitcase. No one could have opened it unless they went looking. The cleaning service hadn’t come by since he arrived. Paloma had been wearing diamonds last night.

Why on earth does a woman go snooping through the things of a man she just met?

Because she knew he would be there. 

He should have been panicked. Furious. Not just at her but at himself for being so careless. This was why he didn’t get drunk or hook up on missions. Anyone you met could be suspect. Anyone. He should have been livid.

Instead, he stared at the earring in his palm and a slow, creeping grin stretched across his face.

Smart woman, he thought. You got me. 

He glanced over at his boss, who was still engrossed in conversation with the associates in the front seats. He was going to have to tell his boss about this at some point. Whoever Paloma was, she had to be dangerous to steal Tenet material. But for now, at that moment, all Neil could do was turn the earring over in his hand.

As they drove, Neil recalled the siren stories he’d been told in his boyhood. He wondered, for a moment, if the effect of the siren song stuck with the sailors even as they were drowning. Perhaps they relished the saltwater filling their mouths and lungs, the icy chill engulfing their bodies, the claws and teeth of beautiful monstresses ravishing their bodies. Why did those myths assume that to be ruined by a beautiful woman was such a bad thing?

Neil slid a hand into his pocket and pressed the earring between his two fingers. He should hand the earring over to his Tenet superiors, see if they can find traces of the woman’s DNA so they can find her. They could hunt her down, bring her back to their headquarters, figure out her name. But he wasn’t ready to hand over the diamond just yet.

He felt like he’d been invited into a game. He’d lost this round, but he wasn’t done playing yet.

~

Paloma rolled the flash drive delicately around in her hand. To think, the fate of an entire secret organization could be compact to such a small, breakable device. And how unfortunate that said device could land in the hands of an agent who couldn’t keep them to himself.

She stood on the bow of the boat that had hours before begun its journey from Havana back to Port Everglades where she’d meet her handler. A salty breeze caressed its fingers through her hair and she sighed into the scent of the foamy sea. A single seagull sung as it flew over her head.

Neil was probably awake by now. He probably noticed that the flash drive was gone. He would seethe that some pretty dress stole his things. The thought made her giggle. Men always liked to think they knew exactly what they were seeing.

She wondered what would come of him once the truth about the drive was revealed. Maybe he’d be fired from the organization. Maybe he’d be heavily penalized, demoted, never trusted with delicate information or materials again,

And then she had the thought: Maybe he’ll come find me. 

On any other day, the thought would have distressed her. A creeping sense of anxiety and paranoia would settle into her bones. But instead, the thought sent a thrill of excitement in her. Maybe Neil would find her another hotel. They could recreate their first meeting again, this time with clear eyes. There could be a scuffle. One that could land them alone in a room together again.

Paloma seduced and used plenty of men. It was a part of her job description. For the longest time, she was good at letting them go once they served no purpose to her anymore. But most of them were only appealing only as means to an end. Stuffy older men with more power and money than anyone knew what to do with. Only Bond had managed to really charm her, and even then, she merely saw him as a colleague and mentor at most.

None of them were as handsome, as charming, as disarming as Tenet’s dashing blonde physicist.  

Which is why, Paloma left him a little memento before she left. One of her diamond earrings, gifted to her by a friend at the CIA, she left in his briefcase. She wouldn’t miss it, and there wasn't enough DNA on it for them to get too far, but it was still risky. Definitely not the kind of thing the CIA would want her to do. The goal was to leave no trace behind, act like a ghost who moved from room to room, acquiring what you needed and leaving swiftly. Dropping a piece of yourself behind was risky.

But despite the risk, Paloma couldn’t help herself. Neil didn’t know who she was when they spoke, so she liked to think the man she meant was genuine. Even she dropped truths of herself at the bar. Her childhood in Havana listening to Fuentes. Her old associate with shaken martinis. Her name.

Now that was a big one. She hoped to get out without telling him, but in the moment she couldn’t help herself. He had a name, a face, and a diamond earring. She couldn’t tell if it would be quite enough to trace her identity, but enough for him to remember her.

Because she would remember him.

Another crisp, salty breeze brushed past Paloma. Her body sprinkled with goosebumps and she felt the wind in her hair. She slipped the flash drive into her pocket and wrapped her arms around herself. As her eyes fluttered shut, she imagined for a moment if Neil had found his way onto the boat. He would walk up to the hardwood front to the bow. He’d stand right behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, his pretty, strong hands smoothing down to her hips. She’d feel his breath on her neck. He’d press a kiss to his cheek, then her neck, then down her back…

The boat turned, and Paloma was snapped from her reverie as she grabbed the iron railing. The blue sky was graying with clouds and it was going to start drizzling soon. She had to get inside the cabin unless she wanted to arrive with messy hair and makeup. She tightened a fist around the drive in her pocket and glanced back to the Cuban shore in the distance.

“Hasta luego, guapo,” she whispered with a smirk.

[outeremissary]

🎸🚨🌹🍷for balthazar perhaps?

Sorry this is coming so late!!! My brain stopped working for a little while. Thank you for the ask and for your patience. :') Under a cut for length...

[prompt list]

🎸 (electric guitar) - What’s your character’s music taste like? Do they have one or two artists they play on repeat or do they have a varied and eclectic collection of music? Do they like mainstream artists or prefer underground musicians? What genres do they enjoy?

I'm going to be completely honest, I almost never feel confident what a modern AU version of one of my fantasy characters would be into and I somehow lost track of the only thing that ever made me think "yeah Balthazar would fuck with this." I will spend the next five months attempting to answer this question if I don't cut myself off at a point so. 😭 Sorry to say that I just don't know where his tastes would fall- I've had ideas really and truly all over the map over the years, from mostly into older industrial and kind of an asshole about it to someone who listens mostly to contemporary club dancepop. There must be some truth between these that's eluding me. Maybe the trouble is that to me it feels like he must be in some way or other a Music Guy but yours truly isn't a Music Guy, more just a guy who listens to music...

Idk. I'm sure he's heard Charli XCX. Whatever that means. Maybe I just think it would be kinda funny if he listened to what's on his own playlist. Don't sleep don't eat, just do it on repeat. Or whatever.

(Right before posting I DID remember I recently answered a similar question for Golarion- compensation?)

🚨 (siren) - What’s your character’s relationship with the law? Have they ever been arrested? What for? What are their opinions on law enforcement?

Balthazar's relationship with the law has been changed by becoming the law, but not as much as you might expect. Laws have always been more like "suggestions for other people to follow" to him- laws keep people in check, and taking advantage of people following them is what anyone smart would do. Besides, he understands only too well the ways that keeping people in check keeps the lowly down, and he desperately wants to keep himself from ending up at the bottom. As a ruler he's happy to make laws he doesn't intend to follow meant to shape the behavior of others and make it easier to impose his will on them with the pretext of enforcement- though to some degree he's also ambivalent about a lot of mundane rulemaking and content to allow advisors with more expertise figure out the policy for him to approve. And if it eventually inconveniences him, he'll find a way to go around it, causing more principled advisors and companions no end of despair (when and if they learn). It's a philosophy he shares with Jaethal, who he trusts to help him thread the needle to keep it all from appearing as the flagrant violation it is. His selfish caprice is also one of the places he does see eye to eye with Lander- perhaps disrespect for one's own established rules is the only solid foundation of their advisor relationship.

Balthazar has never been arrested himself, but he's had a lot of close encounters both while traveling and in his home city of Absalom. He grew up poor and spent a lot of time out in the city without his father, frequently occupied by work, around. Being a scruffy, unattended kid gets you a lot of questions from the corner guards when you linger a little too long in certain places or look too hard at something you're not able to buy. He was always good enough at playing meek and innocent to dodge real trouble- even when he had been a bit light fingered. Being an aasimar helped. Being an aasimar always helps at least a little. And that kind of sets the tone for his whole relationship with law enforcement up until the barony: he doesn't trust law enforcement, he doesn't expect it to be on his side, and he's always ready to wriggle out by finding a way to be a bystander or victim when unwelcome attention is on him. He's also happy to let others take the fall for him.

Of course, when it's his laws being enforced to his ends it's just another tool in his kit. He's a class traitor like that- although also acutely aware that it looks bad to be overzealous using it.

🌹 (rose) - What does your oc find attractive in other people? Are these traits found in their friends and/or romantic partners? Are they found in themselves?

(Disclaimer: I am asexual and attraction, especially to physical traits, is sometimes a challenge to imagine)

Physically, Balthazar enjoys toned, strong physiques on any gender. Someone who's well dressed and well spoken also stands out to him, although brazen confidence isn't necessarily compelling- he prefers a partner who's easily flustered and can be pushed around a bit. That's a lot of fun to do. Being pushed back on or talked over is generally a lot less enjoyable, although he's certainly put up with a lot of it in his life. He also does have something of thing for inexperienced partners. Something about the idea of innocence is catnip to him, and he loves playing the part of the worldly lover.

Very little of his preferences reflect aspects of himself; he likes people who are physically unlike him who are far more willing to be dominated than he is. At the same time, I think that perhaps he has an appreciation for people who challenge him that he hasn't fully acknowledged himself, and a certain fondness for steadfast characters who are passionate about what they believe in. An extension of liking people unlike himself, maybe. The emotional extension he's not willing to see.

It's not hard to see how a lot of his preferences map onto recent lovers he's had. Regongar is his type in many ways, although they have incompatible personalities and Balthazar found him far too high maintenance despite being a good time in bed. Tristian is clearly compelling from some angles (naive, inexperienced, easy to tease), but from others might be more challenging- they do push back on Balthazar quite a bit, demand an emotional earnesty from him that he usually isn't comfortable giving a partner, he's not especially comfortable with certain kinds of religiosity, and for a long time they were at frequently at odds and didn't really get along. (And in terms of Vio AU, Vio is physically attractive but really doesn't take being pushed around lying down. Challenging the idea that Balthazar is put off by being challenged...)

🍷 (wine) - Does your oc drink? What kind of alcohol do they enjoy? What are their drinking habits? What kind of drunk are they?

Balthazar drinks! Not as often or as hard as when he was younger and still spending time with people he is firmly no longer in contact with (some of whom died. unrelated, probably.), but the social drinking habit never left him. He likes going out for drinks with friends and acquaintances, or just having a glass of something with dinner. The Stolen Lands are slowly shaping up to not be the worst place to be out in, at least, even if some part of him badly misses the bars and clubs of Absalom he was once up all night in. He tries to avoid being drunk, but the fact is that he's a lightweight and he easily spills into tipsiness if he's not on his guard.

He enjoys fruity things and mixed drinks with interesting flavor profiles, but gravitates towards hard liquor. Brandy is his preference and comes with a sense of class in his mind that he enjoys, but he has a lingering near-nostalgia for the kind of cheap half a step from rubbing alcohol shit he used to do shots of with the other broke apprentices in the neighborhood. Overall, he's not as picky drinking as you might expect and there's a lot he can get down (even if it might not always stay down). He's drunk the goblin liquor with the poison toad in it. It's not even the worst thing he's had. Unfortunately.

When drunk, Balthazar is loud, flirty, confident, and far more honest than he ordinarily is. The "hold my drink and watch this" kind of confident. He's not really proud of it, but a lot of people find drunk Balthazar a lot of fun.