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fox-buried-in-maple-leaves · 3 months

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[skitters in] the entire emoji themed ask game for Eleazar and Lazarus please and thank you ::3

waaaah. utc its SO long.

Ask Game!

🍼 [BABY BOTTLE] What's your OC's first memory?

Lazarus: Waking up in the burnt down ruins of its home, completely detached from life.

Eleazar: A birthday party when he was five.

🥛 [MILK] What is your OC's relationship with their biological parents like? What about their relationship with any non-biological parental figures?

Lazarus: Strained.

Eleazar: Really good! He relies on them a lot.

🍨 [ICE CREAM] How does your OC compose themselves in stressful situations?

Lazarus: Disappears lol.. It's abilities are very much ghostlike, so it tends to just disappear. It will come back when its calmed down, yk?

Eleazar: Nervously plays with his hair. He'll twist the strands.

🍦 [SOFT CONE] Where does your OC work? How much are they paid, and would they prefer a different job? Why?

Lazarus: "Lazarus Fletcher, Reaper of Phantom Fade." It is death. One of 'em at least. It doesn't get paid anything, thankless job really. It would prefer being a historian, they both wanted to be historians.

Eleazar: He has a part time job at the college library (,: it doesn't pay that much but it helps with his education. One day he'll be a Preservationist! He wants to work with the HEA to preserve sorcerer society and finalism. Especially after WW2 wiped so much out.

🍬 [LOLLY/CANDY] What would your OC like to receive for Valentine's Day/as a token of love?

Lazarus: Nothing? It doesn't really care.

Eleazar: Cupcakes! Strawberry ones.

🥤 [PARTY CUP] How does your OC feel about drama? Do they start any themselves?

Lazarus: It won't start any but it WILL listen. :eyes: and all

Eleazar: He says he won't get involved in drama but he's so gossipy lol

🍷 [WINE] Where on the 'wine aunt scale' is your OC?

Lazarus: Gags trying to drink wine.

Eleazar: Also.. gags trying to drink wine.. But he's cool

🥀 [WILTED ROSE] How good is your OC at meeting deadlines? What motivates them?

Lazarus: It literally has an easier time dispatching of lost souls than traditionally reaping a soul. It will fuck up ON PURPOSE. So BAD. AWFUL. LMAO??

Eleazar: Really good!! He's gotta be for that degree :triumph:

🌹 [ROSE] Does your OC believe in true love? Why?

Lazarus: It hopes so.

Eleazar: YES.

🍄 [MUSHROOM] How likely is your OC to eat random berries/mushrooms they find?

Lazarus: Very likely, it gets bored.

Eleazar: Well wars are super cool for making food scarce. He's quite good at identifying random berries and mushrooms.

🍁 [MAPLE LEAF] What is your OC's favourite season? Why and what do they do during it?

Lazarus: Summer. Nice, warm. Sunbathe...

Eleazar: Winter. Its the season opposite to the one he lost his twin in. Skiing!

🍎 [RED APPLE] Who does your OC value above all else?

Lazarus: It's twin.

Eleazar: His twin.

🍒 [CHERRY] Who is your OC's perfect companion?

Lazarus: A bird, perhaps a little mouse.

Eleazar: Doggy!! Probably a big fluffy one.

🍓 [STRAWBERRY] How do they feel about 'cute' things?

Lazarus: Doesn't pay attention.

Eleazar: Coo

🍅 [TOMATO] How misunderstood is your OC? In-universe or IRL.

Lazarus: Especially at the time period it's in, probably pretty misunderstood? IRL I think people would be down bad for it.

Eleazar: Same situation as Laz.

🌶️ [HOT PEPPER] Who would your OC declare their sworn enemy if they could meet them?

Uhm well Laz died as a result of WW2 and Eleazar lost his twin as a result of WW2 so. Hitler????

🍉 [WATERMELON] What will your OC take to the grave?

Lazarus: WELL YOU SEE.

Eleazar: That he's partially to blame for his twin dying.

🍟 [CHIPS/FRIES] How much junk food/sometimes food does your OC eat? Has it affected their health?

Lazarus: It has no need to eat, so most of the food it consumes is junkfood lol. It doesn't have an affect, yk, death.

Eleazar: He eats as healthy as possible but he loves sweets...

🍂 [AUTUMN LEAVES] Does your OC view piles of dead leaves as a mess or as fun?

Both: Fun!!

🥕 [CARROT] How tough is your OC against certain situations? How weak are they against others?

Lazarus: Literally invincible. ONE GUY can kill it and that guy has not yet been born. Well and the Fates can erase it, but they have no reason to.

Eleazar: Anything that counters his umbramancy. Too bright an area can absolutely fuck him over because he won't be able to use his magic properly. That being said, he's pretty good in most situations thanks to the abundance of shadows.

🍊 [ORANGE] Does your OC have a prophecy surrounding them? If they don't, what would it be?

Lazarus: Nope! If they did it'd be the "died for another to prevail" type prophecy.

Eleazar: Also no. But one could argue he is the other half of the "lost someone important in order to prevail" trope. And his twin's death did directly lead to him insisting on the preservation of magical society so as to prevent a future erasure. But it isn't a prophecy because he alone wasn't enough for that. I think Rowan said the last one was the 60s?

🥭 [MANGO] What colours best represent them and why? Does this differ from their favourites?

Lazarus: Blue and silver. I don't have a why, it just does. Anyways it's favourite colour is orange.

Eleazar: White and black. His favourite colour is red.

🌰 [CHESTNUT] What food group does your OC mostly eat (e.g., grains, fruits)?

Lazarus: Candy.

Eleazar: Vegetables.

🍑 [PEACH] How do they show their kindness? How kind are they truly?

Lazarus: It isn't very kind because it doesn't have much opportunity to be. It doesn't even really grant the souls it reaps any sort of kindness. Watching them become monster in order to hunt them down.

Eleazar: He always remembers people's interests or things they point out. He likes to think he's pretty kind.

🧅 [ONION] What is surefire to make your OC cry? Who knows of this information?

Lazarus: Hurt its brother.

Eleazar: Remind him of his childhood.

🍍 [PINEAPPLE] Pineapple on pizza or not?

Pineapple on pizza doesn't exist in their time rn LOL. Neither will care in the future though.

🍋 [LEMON] What is their kryptonite/ultimate weakness?

Lazarus: Boredom..

Eleazar: Honestly too many things. He's a soft guy.

🌽 [CORN] How good are they at hiding and finding their way?

Lazarus: It IS its whole thing..

Eleazar: VERY GOOD.

🍕 [PIZZA SLICE] How good is your OC at sharing? How do they share something if there's not enough supply?

Lazarus: It won't want to, but it will. Because there's very little it needs to sustain itself.

Eleazar: Will make sure everyone else has their share before him.

🧈 [BUTTER] How soft is your OC? In what sense are they soft?

Lazarus: Has really soft hair, thats about it.

Eleazar: He's very soft. He refuses to let the horrors he's experienced turn him to stone.

🍌 [BANANA] Have parts of your OC been lost to time (in-universe)? What do they wish they could lose from themselves?

In the future, yes. Eleazar's efforts will be forgotten and those who knew sans it's family will know Laz.

🏵️ [ROSETTE] What flower symbolises your OC best and why? What does the flower mean in floriography?

Lazarus: Forget-Me-Not. I mean. Lol.

Eleazar: Purple hydrangea. A deep desire to understand.

🍪 [BUSCUIT/COOKIE] Does your OC prefer things simple or extravagant?

Both: Simple.

🍻 [BEER CHEERS] Is your OC typically on the louder or quieter side?

Lazarus: Quiet.

Eleazar: Loud.

🥂 [GLASS CHEERS] What is your OC's 'aesthetic?'

Lazarus: doesn't really have one?

Eleazar: DARK ACADEMIA IM AFRAID.

🥃 [MATE] What does your OC look for in a friend? What do they find is a turn-off?

Lazarus: Would run screaming if forced to make a friend.

Eleazar: Kindness to animals is a must! If you don't like animals, he won't like you lol

🍯 [HONEY] At what point does someone seem sickly sweet to your OC?

Lazarus: It is really good at reading people. As if it can tell if someone is lying. Using kindness as a front, even slightly, it will know.

Eleazar: Too many compliments...

🍞 [BREAD] Does your OC have any allergies? How severe are they? Do they require equipment to help them?

Lazarus: Not anymore.

Eleazar: He's allergic to bees..

🥐 [CROISSANT] Where is your OC from? How do they feel about their homeland? Where are they now?

Their family is originally from England, however both of them were born in Germany in the 1930s. Their family is now back in England. Lazarus, drifts..

🥖 [BAGUETTE BREAD] Where is your OC's favourite food from? Is it a variety of places?

(sounds of lane googling where cake was invented)

"The first documented strawberry shortcake recipe appeared in a 1588 British cookbook." there.

🥨 [PRETZEL] How complicated is your OC's backstory? Who does it entwine with?

See it isn't necessarily complicated, but it is HEAVILY related to /actual world history/ which makes it just really fucking grim. Its accepted Ad Vitam canon that there were genocides of sorcerer children before they came into their powers, and complete wipes of their religion from history.

Lazarus and Eleazar's stories heavily have to do with these genocides and that comes in combination with WW2 being a big part of their lives. Not complicated at all. Just sad.

🥯 [BAGEL] What does/has your OC have/had an unhealthy obsession over? What caused this obsession? How do they deal with it? Do they seek help?

Lazarus: It thinks its normal (You couldn't face your family for years because you couldn't stand the fact you wear your brother's face.)

Eleazar: Food hoarding... He can't help it..

🥞 [PANCAKES] What's the most your OC can eat in one sitting? At what point do they get sick?

Lazarus: Like a normal plate?

Eleazar: He has a bottomless stomach...

🧇 [WAFFLE] Using shape language, how would you redesign your OC?

fuck if I know.

🧀 [CHEESE WEDGE] How often does your OC get into situations that rely on pure luck/miracles happening?

Lazarus: Way too often..

Eleazar: HE IS AVOIDING THESE SITUATIONS SPECIFICALLY.

🍹 [TROPICAL BEVERAGE] If your OC could go anywhere, where would it be?

Lazarus: Ancient Greece!

Eleazar: Ancient Greece. (for his twin)

🍔 [BURGER] What would your OC put on their burger?

Lazarus: so many pickles...

Eleazar: Whatever you are offering, he will put on it.

🍰 [CAKE SLICE] How does your OC change as you get to know them?

Lazarus: A little less awkward, more open. Softer than it seems.

Eleazar: He has more anxiety than you'd originally think...

🥧 [PIE] What's the longest journey your OC has gone on? What was it for? Did they succeed?

Lazarus: It went to Denmark one time that was neat.

Eleazar: IRELAND. For survival, and he survived so I'd say he succeeded.

🌻 [SUNFLOWER] Where would your OC get lost in the moment/beauty of the place?

Botanical garden, both of em.

💐 [BOUQUET] If you could send your OC a bouquet, what flowers would make it up and what is the overall message

I would send Eleazar a bouquet that represents forgiveness and new beginnings and I would send Lazarus all the pink flowers in the world cause it needs some colour in its life.

🌾 [RICE SHEAF] How picky is your OC with food? What will and won't they eat?

Neither are picky.

🍈 [MELON] If they had to be put into a box, what box would it be and why?

Lazarus: Resurrection.

Eleazar: Like a nice soft velvet box maybe..

🍏 [GREEN APPLE] How do they differ from the norm and how are they punished for it?

Lazarus literally died on account of being magical. Eleazar has to hide and suppress his magic and religion even now that he IS immortal just because its safer.

🍐 [PEAR] What is their current social standing? If they could change it, would they, and to what?

Lazarus: ????

Eleazar: Poor but he's managing. He'd like to be a nice middle upperclass but alas.

🥒 [CUCUMBER] How innocent are they (unaware to the bad happenings around them)?

LOL. They are not. They're both VERY aware. Lazarus is only innocent in the sex sense.

🥬 [LEAFY GREEN] How mundane are they? Do they like it that way?

Lazarus: Not very, but kind of hard to be when you're blue.

Eleazar: He tries to come off as mundane but he definitely isn't lol

🥦 [BROCCOLI] What do they hate about humanity/their species?

Lazarus: Humanity's inability to understand those unlike them + it has met some egotistical reapers. SHUT UP about being better than others.

Eleazar: Humanity's greed.

🥑 [AVOCADO] What will they never back down about, even if it makes them seem bad?

Lazarus: It doesn't care man I'm ngl.

Eleazar: That reapers and fate know nothing of the woes of the people who Actually contribute to the universe.

🥝 [KIWI FRUIT] How does their outside appearance differ from who they are?

Lazarus: It looks unapproachable, it is.

Eleazar: He looks very nice and calm, he is very nice and calm (lying)

🌿 [HERB] Is your OC religious? What do they believe in?

Yes, Finalism.

☘️ [SHAMROCK] How passionate is your OC about things they love/hate?

Lazarus: Not Very.

Eleazar: TOO MUCH.

🍀 [FOUR LEAF CLOVER] Would your OC spend hours looking for a four leaf clover?

No.

🌲 [EVERGREEN] What does your OC's dream treehouse look like? What tree is it built upon?

They have the same dream treehouse: One of those really old really tall oak trees and the treehouse would have a bunk bed for them to share and a nice window view.

🌳 [DECIDUOUS] What's your OC's favourite thing to do at the park?

Lazarus: Nap

Eleazar: Feed the ducks!

🍾 [POPPING CORK] How does your OC celebrate special occasions? With whom?

Lazarus: Eh.

Eleazar: Family and with lots of food!

🍃 [FALLEN LEAF] What's the darkest period of time your OC has been through?

Lmaooo I feel like I'm a broken record atp.

🌵 [CACTUS] How physically resilient is your OC?

Lazarus: Very!

Eleazar: Immortal yes, but still kinda weak

🍵 [GREEN TEA] What's your OC's preferred flavour of tea, if they even drink it?

Lazarus: As sweet as possible.

Eleazar: Fruit teas.

🍸 [COCKTAIL] When was the first time your OC had an alcoholic beverage? What did they think of it?

Lazarus: Recently, it was fine.. It didn't like it that much.

Eleazar: For his fifteenth birthday and he had rum and it was so gross.

🌱 [SEEDLING] What new passions/hates is your OC discovering?

Lazarus: It hates woodworking, don't ask.

Eleazar: Religious history.. And sewing.

🌴 [PALM TREE] What are the stops on your OC's dream cruise? What boat are they on?

They have never thought about this whatsoever.

🌸 [CHERRY BLOSSOM] Does your OC believe in legends/myths?

Lazarus: Only the ones that are actually real. But it used to love the Greek myths..

Eleazar: Some!

💮 [WHITE FLOWER] Has your OC ever kissed someone? Who, when, and where?

Lazarus: Nope.

Eleazar: A few times! Cheek, nose, lips, collarbone.

🌺 [HIBISCUS] What does your OC think is the prettiest name?

Lazarus: Annabella.

Eleazar: Amelia

🌷 [TULIP] What is your OC's favourite flower and colour?

Lazarus: Orange tulips.

Eleazar: red amaryllis

🍧 [SHAVED ICE] What's your OC's favourite flavour of edible thing (e.g., strawberry)?

Both is strawberry LOL

🧁 [CUPCAKE] If you had to describe your OC using flavours, how would you (e.g., 'they're very sweet')?

Lazarus: Bitter with a sweet inside.

Eleazar: Cotton candy..

🍭 [LOLLIPOP] Would your OC ever share food with someone?

Yes!

🍆 [EGGPLANT] How are they used by others? How easily are they tricked into this?

Lazarus: It is not tricked into this at all anymore.

Eleazar: A little easily.. He tries to keep an eye out but he just wants to help people.

🍇 [GRAPES] What's their circle of people/their species like? What dynamic would they be called?

Lazarus: Does not have one.

Eleazar: He keeps a close group of friends and he's very close to his family. But he bounces around groups and talks to lots of people.

🍩 [DONUT] What is your OC's biggest flaw? How do they deal with it? Do they deal with it?

Lazarus: It's apathy. It doesn't care.

Eleazar: The fact he holds grudges easily.. And he tries to deal with it! Its just really hard.

🍮 [CUSTARD] Expensive restaurants or cheap store-brand microwave meals?

Cheaper better.

🎂 [BIRTHDAY CAKE] How does your OC celebrate their birthday? With who, and where?

Lazarus: Every year, it would celebrate its birthday by changing its face to reflect its twin's growing up. So that they'd always match, looks the same in age.

Eleazar: He spends it with his parents usually, sometimes a few friends.

🥔 [POTATO] What do they have that others see as a flaw, but they don't care about?

Lazarus: Also its apathy.

Eleazar: I think he would have a panic attack if someone pointed out his flaws.

#☾*✲⋆. essence of myrrh #from the fate ; kai #⋆｡°✩ Eleazar #⋆｡°✩ Lazarus #ad vitam per morte

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dragonsareourfuture · 3 years

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Ways the Death Note Cast Show They Trust You

I lost some inspiration towards the middle there, I’m sorry!!

- he will always have Watari make extra servings of food just for you. It’s a bit startling at first. So suddenly there’s just food in front of you that you think is for L, but when you push it towards him, he pushes it right back to you.

“You don’t want it?” He’d ask, leaving you confused until you finally put the pieces together.

“Oh, I…I guess I didn’t realize it was for me. My bad.” You begin eating. “Thank you.”

L simply hums and continues with whatever he was just up to.

- You know that thing cats do where they’re sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, guard slightly down, but still not quite asleep? I can picture L doing something like this during any moment of downtime he gets. Just sitting, scrunched up in his chair or wherever he happens to be, eyes closed but the cogs in his brain are still turning. You notice him doing this when it is only you and him in the room, simply thinking it’s because of the moment of rare solitude. Little do you know, it’s because he trusts that you won’t hurt him or let anything bad happen to him.

- L is a person who prefers to be in charge of his own life. He likes knowing what’s going on around him at all times and when things are out of his hands he can’t help but feel uncomfortable. However, with a person he’s developed a close relationship with and knows he can trust with everything he has, L will feel more comfortable leaving decisions up to them. You’ll have to start small though, like being the one to plan a surprise date. He might feel a bit uncomfy at the beginning, shifting around and possibly even insisting he sit so that he can see the exits clearly, but he eases into it eventually. Soon you both find yourselves joking around in the odd way that you do and gorging on cake and ice cream.

Mello

- being vulnerable is something Mello isn’t too keen on. He already feels vulnerable most of the time and would kick himself if he let that show through his actions. If Mello truly trusts you, he will feel as though he can be vulnerable around you without any judgement on your end. Small acts that show vulnerability such as asking you to help him with something he can’t quite handle on his own — even if it’s something as simple as not being able to reach something off a shelf or being unsure about how to fix something. Eventually, he’ll work his way up to the bigger stuff like being physically wounded in front of you or having a mental block.

- Sharing his clothes with you or letting you pick his outfit for him. Now, it sounds like he’s just being a little diva and that’s only partially true. But his clothes are important to him, they’re a factor that sets him aside from his plain-dressing rival and in his eyes they make him more interesting than him, visually at least. He’s happy to dress you up, and it is true that he has to have a close relationship with you to want to do so, but you should be especially proud if he lets you alter his appearance in any way.

- He likes to believe that he’s had his goals set out from the beginning. Surpass Near, become the next L, and go on from there. What he pushes to the back of his brain are the moments he’s been studying and he’s asked himself ‘What if I went down a different path?’. He quickly pushes these thoughts away, but they keep coming back. What would life be like if this wasn’t an option for him? What if he were a writer? What if he lived in the city with people he loves and went to the movies every Friday? Unwillingly, he has a whole list of possibilities. If he truly trusts you, he’ll share every single one with you. Whether it’s dropping hints or confessing them one by one late at night, he can’t help but feel that they’re safe with you.

Misa

- it seems a bit surface level, but it’s true — Misa will talk down on Light in front of you if she trusts you. But it’s not straight away. She had developed a lot of courage to actually break up with him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still doubt her decision to do so. It’s only when she finds out from you how loved ones are supposed to treat each other — with kindness and respect — that she feels her decision to ditch Light was the entirely right one. Slowly, she’ll start to admit to you all the things she hated about Light, starting with some of his mannerisms and building up to something like how he forced her to leave the entertainment business.

- Misa is…dramatic. She likes to go above and beyond for someone she’s infatuated with and make sure they’re the happiest they can be. If she trusts you enough to develop this kind of infatuation and, with some development, less of an obsession and more of a strong, bonding love, you will be doted on to the point where it’s almost ridiculous. You could be at home during one of her work days and you’ll get a delivery of lunch from your favorite takeout place because Misa was ‘thinking of you <3’, as she explains when you text her asking why food randomly showed up at your place. It’s rather sweet.

- Misa’s a pretty talkative person in general, that’s a well known fact. She’ll talk about clothes, a cute birdie she saw on her way home, really anything that comes to mind. But, she’ll do that with about anyone who’ll listen. It’s gradual, so it’s hard to notice, but if Misa grows to trust you she’ll start talking about some of the more serious things that have been on her mind for a while, those things that she thought would scare off anyone she liked because of how personal they are to her. Her family before they died, for example. It’s something that Misa thinks about. So much. But she doesn’t really talk about it. She wants to forget, put the past behind her but because she’s never talked about it with anyone it’s hard to do that. She’ll talk about her family to you, the little things her sister used to do and some things her parents did that she misses.

Matsuda

- Matsuda often begins to idolize those who he thinks are trustworthy and have a good heart. He starts to tell you how much he loves when you do x and that he wishes he could perform as well as you in that area. In a sense, he trusts you with his vulnerability, letting you know that he thinks of himself as less than satisfactory and how he wishes he could do better, only he channels it by pointing out good things about you. If…that makes sense.

- This sounds dire, but he’ll risk his life for the people he completely, without a doubt trusts. He was willing to do so with Chief Yagami, someone he saw as a father figure, and he would certainly be willing to do so with you, someone who he feels he has a deep emotional connection to. Whether you’re in a situation where he would need to or he’s just saying that he would, he means it.

- Matsuda trusts you to not make fun of him when he overshares or talks too much or anything his coworkers brush him off for. He feels that he can talk about things he finds funny and talk about his life without worrying about what you think of him when he does.

Matt

- he would drop everything to help you. Whether that’s dropping his game to help you kill a bug or leaving his duties behind to help you out of a life or death situation. Whichever scenario you happen to find yourself in he’s there no matter what.

- He’ll invite you into his personal life. I know this is kind of a given but Matt had the chance to become the next L. He had the chance to become something “great” and he said “ummm rather not” to it because it wasn’t something he wanted. If he shares this information with you, he trusts you not to leave him for something better when you discover the status he could have had and refused. He trusts you to appreciate him because of him and not the intelligence everyone but him cherishes.

- He leaves you alone around important technology and software he’s hacked. Unfortunately for him, betrayal comes with the business he’s got himself into and, if Matt really trusts you on both a professional and emotional level, he won’t have a problem worrying about whether or not you’ll take advantage of his coffee break to gather information for some other organization or something. He will literally just go “mkay babe I gotta go fuel up on caffeine real quick, you’re good watching the hacked government database right? Cool cya.”

Near

- Near trusts you to take him to public places. Sounds simple, yeah. But Near has never liked crowds, or even just too many strangers in a wide open place. It’s strange to everyone observing how one day he decides he needs a new toy, his old one having broken due to old age, and asks you to take him to the toy store. He’s questioned, people wondering why he wouldn’t rather you just go alone but Near insists. Apparently the toy that broke is special addition and he wants to make sure you get the right one. He stays close to you the whole way, not really saying much, but he’s there and that’s a big step for him.

- He helps you out with puzzles. Basically cheats for you. When he’s eyeing one specific empty slot, coughing lightly to get your attention, just know that he’s not helping you because he thinks you need it. Quite the opposite actually. With anyone else, he believes that they should be able to solve it on their own. He thinks that if they can’t, then that’s their fault. But with you…it’s as if he trusts that you’re intelligent enough without the puzzle being an indicator of that intelligence, so much so that he thinks the puzzle itself is obsolete when it comes to you. He doesn’t need a puzzle to know how smart you are.

- He’ll eat the foods you make him. Near’s picky eater-ness is above that of a child who only eats chicken tenders and pizza. He doesn’t eat that many people’s food because he knows it’s probably not he way he likes it. But with you, he trusts that you respect his eating habits and know him well enough to get it right the first time. Though he does check the food out for a bit, he’ll eat it. Sometimes all of it. Fuckin astonishing to Rester who had attempted many times to heat up microwave dinners for the guy.

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

Late Night Talks

Summary: After a long hunt, the reader and Dean grab a late dinner on the road. Dean notices the reader not eating much and calls her out on her recent eating habits when he gets concerned about the road she’s on...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: language, discussion of disordered eating & eating disorders, fluff

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo!

______

“I read this article earlier,” said Dean as he popped a french fry into his mouth. You were about five hours from home, eating a midnight dinner at some tiny little diner on the side of the road after a successful but exhausting ghoul hunt.

“Mhm,” you hummed, picking at a brussel sprout on your plate.

“It was on disordered eating,” he said, picking up a piece of bacon that’d fallen onto his plate and eating it.

“You mean eating disorders,” you said, stabbing into the sprout and eating it before you went back to your dicing up your chicken tenderloin.

“No this was something different. It’s like, how some people shift into having an eating disorder, like pre disorder I guess.”

“So...was there something interesting in this article?” you asked, picking up a piece of chicken and taking a bite.

“Actually yeah,” he said. You chewed and took a few bites before he set the burger down and wiped off his hands. “It was about how there’s dangers involved with disordered eating since it could turn into something all consuming, like a full on eating disorder.”

“Well that sounds kinda obvious,” you said.

“Well it was about how stuff like skipping meals, limiting your calories too much, saying some foods are good and others are bad, that stuff over time can really start to mess with your head and lead to that compulsion of being obsessed with food and weight.”

“Isn’t that just common sense,” you said. He hummed and you ate another piece of chicken before pushing the plate away. “I don’t know about you but I’m full.”

“Yeah, it is common sense,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and he pulled out his phone, tapping on it for a moment before spinning it around, showing you a number.

“Are you tracking my fucking calories?” you said.

“Oh geez, Y/N. Maybe cause you hit every red flag in that article I read and I got concerned. There’s no humanly possible way you’re full when you’ve eaten a whopping 800 calories today. You’re starving yourself.”

“I’m not hungry today, weirdo,” you said.

“You were slow on that hunt and we both know why. You’ve been doing this for weeks really extremely and honestly, since I’ve met you.”

“I’m on a diet. You know that.”

“You’re on the ‘I’m fucking up my metabolism’ diet. Ah, that one’s a classic,” he said.

“Back off. I am not hungry lately is all.”

“Eat this,” he said, sliding his plate in front of you. He took your plate and started eating, staring at you. “Eat the burger.”

“I said-”

“Take one bite.”

“I’m not hungry,” you growled.

“Then take a bite and spit it out.” You picked up the burger, covered in cheese, bacon, peppers and a sauce that smelled so good. You swallowed and put it down, Dean shaking his head.

“Dean. I’m just not hungry.”

“Why won’t you take a bite?” he asked. You sighed and closed your eyes. “Y/N.”

“Because I’ll want to eat the whole thing and this has to be a thousand calories and I can’t eat that much, Dean. I’m on a diet.”

“Today I’ve seen you have three cups of coffee, a banana, and half of a small piece of chicken and a few brussel sprouts. You need to eat.”

“I need to lose weight.”

“For what?”

“I’m overweight.”

“Because a little stupid calculator online said so? So another stupid little calculator tells you how much food you’re allowed a day? But maybe you’re having a bad day so you tell yourself you don’t deserve to have even all of that already restricted food? So you make it even smaller to the point of, hm, what’s that word, disordered eating?”

You stared down at your lap and heard him get up, sliding into the booth beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you looked out the window.

“I do need to lose weight Dean. It’s true. I’m not supposed to be this big.”

“What are you supposed to be then?”

“Like that waitress. She’s small and thin. She’s healthy.”

“I see,” he said. She was working behind the counter, no one else in the place aside from a man at the other end and the cook. “Excuse me miss?”

She popped her head up and walked over with a tired smile.

“Can we get another bacon cheeseburger? And a big bowl of that ice cream sundae?” he asked.

“You got it,” she said, writing it down.

“One more thing,” said Dean. “Do you like the way you look?”

“Excuse me?” she said.

“Dean, shut up,” you said. “Please ignore him.”

“I mean, are you happy with your body? Do you eat whatever you want, wear whatever you want, never worry a second about what goes in it or how it looks? You’re a beautiful woman but what do you actually think of yourself?”

She was quiet for a few moments before she noticed the swapped plates in front of you.

“You know when you first asked that, I thought, you were being creepy. I get creepy guys in here a lot late at night. The cook is a big guy but it happens. I know I’m small. I wish I was stronger. I wish I looked like she does. I’m something that looks like they’d snap in the wind. She’s strong and has an ass and curves. She’s not a rectangle with no curves or chest. She doesn’t look like a guy. I wish I wasn’t so delicate but I don’t think I can change that much.”

“Probably not so much,” said Dean. “But I hear weight training is good for muscle building. Creeps are always creeps but might help to be able to deck ‘em.”

“Yeah. I’ll go put that order in for you guys,” she said with a smile. Dean turned his head back to you after she went through the double doors.

“Funny. You want her body. She wants yours,” he said.

“She doesn’t know I’m overweight.”

“She doesn’t know how damn strong you are. Her body? She was right. She is delicate and it’d be a safe idea for her to put on some muscle given her job. You though? You I’ll worry to death over no matter what. But you’re missing the most glaring thing of all.”

“What?”

“You just said she doesn’t know you’re overweight. She doesn’t know how much you weigh. If she doesn’t know how does anyone know? Why does a number on a scale matter? Health does, don’t get me wrong, but care more about what your body can do than what size pants you fit in. It’s all bullshit anyways. You can be a small one place or a triple XL somewhere else. You can have a normal chest but be told it’s too big or too small by a different brand. I just don’t want to see you going down a path towards something worse where you’re hurting yourself.”

“I’d never hurt myself, Dean.”

“If your body is hungry and you don’t feed it, you’re hurting it. I’m talking about you’re cold, you’re starving, you have no energy, you feel like crap. But you won’t eat, not until it gets a little worse because you think you can take it because you’ve taken it before. That’s hurting yourself and you hurt yourself a lot sweetheart.”

You looked down and swallowed, taking a deep breath.

“I’m really cold right now,” you said quietly. “I’m tired of always being so fucking cold.”

“Eat,” he said, tugging his plate closer to you. “I’ll order you some soup too. That’ll warm you up.”

He took off his jacket and wrapped it over your shoulders. He kissed your cheek and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I’ve been like this for years, Dean. I don’t know how people eat normally anymore.”

“I know. You probably fucked up your metabolism but we can unfuck it up too. You can be healthy but this, this isn’t healthy. I’ll do it with you but you gotta promise me you won’t starve yourself anymore.”

“I’ll try,” you said.

“I’ll take trying to start with,” he said. “I’m gonna order that soup. Eat up for me sweetheart. You’ll feel better soon. I promise.”

One Month Later

“Y/N!” shouted Dean from the kitchen as you walked past. “You eat lunch yet?”

“No,” you said.

“Are you hungry?”

“A little. I was waiting for you to get done with Baby,” you said.

“What’d you eat so far?” he asked.

“I had a cup of coffee and a protein bar and for lunch I’m having one of those greek wraps I like,” you said. “Satisfied?”

“I’d prefer if you had two wraps or a wrap and snack with it,” he said. You grumbled and he sighed. “Y/N. You said I could take the lead on this.”

“I’m gaining weight,” you said.

“Yeah cause you aren’t eating what a toddler does in a day anymore which is perfectly healthy for a grown woman. I know it’s only been a month but you have so much more energy, you sleep better, you have less nightmares. Your skin looks amazing. So gain a few pounds, gain more than a few, let’s fix your metabolism and then we’ll start working out a little and we’re not gonna give a fuck how much we weigh at all and we’re gonna be the hottest fucking couple in this neighborhood I swear.”

“I like not feeling cold anymore,” you said with a small smile, Dean walking over and rubbing your arms. “It’s just...hard sometimes to not...wait to eat until your stomach hurts from no food. I’m figuring out what being hungry is again.”

“It’s gonna take some time but your body will learn again. We just gotta be extra nice to it right now while it recovers,” he said. “And then we’ll always be nice to it, right?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I promise.”

“So, one wrap or two?” he asked, opening the fridge.

“One. I’ll save the other for tomorrow. But maybe I’ll have some pita chips and hummus with it?” you asked.

“That sounds yummy,” he said. “I think I’ll have that myself.”

“You don’t have to eat my diet Dean,” you said.

“I could do with being nicer to my own body myself,” he said. “After lunch do you want to go for a walk? I have a sneaking suspicion the couple three blocks over are a pair of vamps.”

“That’s the guy with the skin condition, babe,” you said.

“Are you sure cause he got like a weird rash that one time.”

“It’s a condition,” you said with a smile. “But I would love to go for a walk with you while the day is still nice.”

“Sounds like a plan sweetheart,” he said, starting to take food out of the fridge. You walked over and gave him a hug from behind.

“Thanks for saying something. Even if I tried pretending I was fine.”

“You’d do the same for me,” he said. “Come on, cutie. Let’s get some grub. I’m starving.”

________

#tell me a story bingo #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #spn fanfic #dean fanfic #dean x

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kanene-yaaay · 3 years

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Full of Life

Random Notes: This fanfic contains Cheer Up Tickles, Mouth Tickles, Rapberries, Tickly Kisses, Gang Up Tickles, Nice Nicknames, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and the power of friendship. This fic is about 3.000 words. This fic is Lee!Patton with Ler!Logan and Ler!Roman with also implied Lee!Logan. Virgil is mentioned. I did not prrofreaded this yet :’v.

Kanene’s Notes: Heya!! Holy gosh, I started this fic with a very clear direction in mind and then proceeded to ignore it xDD. Gosh, I literally forgot how natural writing can feel. I hope you have as fun reading this as I did writing it. <3

[~*~]

Patton was not sure how Logan knew about the Blanket Rule, but he did. Maybe they talked about this one day.

About how, when Patton opened Logan's door and immediately went to hide under the grey comforter of his friend's room, that meant he didn't want any kind of contact. No touches. No words. No acknowledgment.

And Logan respected that. He was just so good like that.

Actually, in Patton's opinion, Logan was amazingly good at a handful of things, but especially in dealing with sad days.

They didn't expect sad days to go as smoothly as they did in each others' company, but now that they lived through tough and hard moments, it really couldn't go any other way.

Logan, for his part, didn't know how to comfort and preferred the silence instead of the possibility of saying the wrong thing and upsetting the person further, obligating him to deal with things he hardly understood, such as feelings. And, in Patton's turn, he would rather cry and let himself feel all the bad emotions far away from any judgmental eyes or unsolicited advices.

Now, Patton wasn't really sure what he had to offer on Logan's Bad Days, but the other confirmed that he helped with such certainty and unavoidable security that it left no other options than trusting on his words.

Patton trusted him. A lot.

The cat lover mused this sentence on his brain, trying to focus better on his senses than the overwhelming thoughts that fought desperately for his attention. It was also good that Logan's house wasn't the quietest, too. Above the heat that started to bring his mind to the present and to the now, Patton could hear the sound of Roman in the kitchen, talking fiercely on the phone, hitting by accident - between curses and 'Who the hell put this here?' - cabinets, pans and bouncy containers.

He chuckled. It was a low sound, barely there.

But still.

There was also the quiet sound of Logan moving the books and cups from his table, turning on his computer and typing.

Also, there were cars passing outside. Cars filled with people and sometimes even pets. There were purring cats and lazy dogs and families out there. Stars and fireflies and kids laughing because their parents finally gave in and bought them ice cream before dinner. There was the wind ruffling someone else's hair, a parrot learning new words and an old couple enjoying a cup of coffee on a low night who could, as well, be found outside.

There was so much life outside.

His hand touched his chest and Patton felt his heartbeats and the way his torso would go up and down at every breath. The way the comforter squished under his fingers in a feeling of soft and secure and...

There was life inside too.

There was a vivid life in the way Logan put one of their favorite movies, letting the opening to fly unashamed across the room in a silent invitation.

There was life in the way Patton knew that, the moment he opened the door, the smell of baked goodies would fill his senses and his heart.

And in the way the stars kept their light and the planets their rotation and meteors continued to fly around that gigantic amount of things we call the Universe, as if nothing else really mattered.

And...

And maybe that was true.

Maybe, while the stars were in the sky, the cats continued to purr, a child kept bothering their parents for a snack and best friends kept caring about you during your bad days...

Maybe then nothing else mattered.

Patton pushed the blanket away from him, taking a deep breath.

It was much less stuffy outside.

"Logan." The other turned in his direction immediately, fondly scoffing when he found the other making grabby hands in his direction. A couple of seconds later his hoodie was flying across the room and falling from Patton's awaiting arms, since his skill of catching things was still a work in progress.

After a few seconds and a couple more, Patton found himself melting on his friend's half hug, watching the movie - which had to be played again from the beginning, since when Patton arrived it was already in the middle of the plot’s clímax, but neither commented on it - and barely jumping on the bean bag when Roman opened the door with no discretion.

"If that is a sad movie that I hear I will slay you all. Except for you, Patty Cake, I will fight for you." He came in, phone still pressed between his shoulder and ear, his hands too occupied in not letting the bows full of cookies, popcorn, chocolate and a lonely pot of ice cream to fall. He lightly hit Patton's thigh with his foot. "Move, I'm gay."

"Hi gay, I’m Patton." He chuckled, that time it sounded a bit stronger.

"We are not eating this absurd amount of sugar." Logan replied, profusely ignoring Patton's pun.

"Thank you for your input, Microsoft Nerd." Roman answered with a joyful, fake tune, totally unfazed by Logan's half not-amused and half but-also-not-surprised stare. "If you have any complaints in regards to the attendant's service we ask for you to fill a complaint form that will be carefully read by our team, who will do their best to apply the necessary changes in a near future. Roman's company-" a loud gasp cut his words when Logan forcefully grabbed one bowl and took part of the cookies and chocolates inside it. "Hey! This is mine!"

"No, this is Virgil's. He won't be able to come for our movie night so he asked us to keep some food for him."

"Do you think if we watch more movies we will be able to wait for him to come back?" Patton questioned.

"I can't say for certain since I am not sure how long his date will be."

Roman snorted. "If I taught him well, he is not coming for tonight. Gotta enjoy the-" Patton shoved a cookie on Roman's face, successfully stopping his sentence.

"Nope!" He smiled, now proceeding to shove a cookie on his own mouth before trying to give Logan the same treatment, pouting when he saw that the other was already munching a sweet, eyeing him warily. He unpaused the movie. "He is my baby brother and I'm not thinking about that!"

The movie night started quiet. For today, quiet was more than nice to Patton.

Then, in the part when the protagonist learned that there was magic in her world, Logan grabbed his hand and started to trace lightly, in slow shapes all the way over the lines across his palm, his fingers sometimes traveling to his pulse and forearm in a few swirls before going back to the previous spot. A small, however permanent smile began to gleam on Patton’s face.

He knew this was going to happen. Logan was one of his first friends who discovered his liking for tickling somewhere on the beginning of their journey to their friendship, as well as how comforting that activity could be for him.

A faint blush still dotted his cheeks when he thought about that. Today was not an exception, the soft touches made butterflies wiggle their wings in excitement on his tummy, a wobbly tune taking over his smile, especially when he saw Logan’s slight grin at his quiet reactions.

Patton glued his eyes on the screen, refusing to acknowledge his friend’s antics, which led to a yelp escaping from his barriers when a hand rested on his side, pulling him closer to the half hug and sneaking a couple of pokes on the ticklish spot.

“You good, Pat?” Roman quirked an eyebrow in his direction and Patton felt his face get hottier, giggles beginning to bubble in his throat when the pokes evolved to a drag of fingers that went up to his ribs and then down, back to his hips, blunt nails spiraling and teasing carefully the sensitive skin. He did his best to not squeal and squirm away.

“Yes! I aham.” He beamed, trying to dislodge the walking tickles and dissipate the giddy energy spreading across his nerves. “I just really like this sce-eene!”

Logan hummed innocently under Patton’s pout thrown in his direction, as if didn’t just squeeze his side right when he was talking. “I believe it’s an important scene for the plot, yes.”

Roman squinted his eyes at the screen. "She's literally just asleep.”

“Yeah!” Patton giggled, scrunching his nose as he did so. “I think that part is very-” Logan decided that was a very good time to concentrate his efforts on prodding and exploring every single ticklish inch of his right lowest rib, knowing very well each weak spot and wasting not a single effort to put his best friend in stitches. Patton felt his resolve break, uncontrollable titters pouring from his lips. “Funny!” He squealed. “Very, very funny!”

“Really, can you explain why you think that, please?”

“Logan!”

“I am merely curious to understand your concept of humor, Patton.” Logan mused, finally letting go of his hand to attack his sides, making the cat lover to clap his hands on his mouth, hiding the snorts who were trying to fly from his lips. “Maybe I will even start to see why you’re so adamant on making so many puns on your daily basis.”

Patton shook his head, giving up from trying to not react to his friend’s attack in order to wiggle away from his curious hands and silly scribbly fingers. Sadly, he ended up making the mistake of turning his back to Roman, who, watching the whole ordeal, let a devilish smirk take over his face.

Before Patton could even protest against Logan’s words, two arms hugged him from bei, hands squirming to rest, in a mock of safety, on his armpits. “Hey, Specs, guess what!”

“No! Roman!” Patton squeaked, kicking at the feeling of one more attack concentrated on another ticklish spot, crackles beginning to paint his laughter here and there as Roman’s fingers began to tease the skin, his thumbs just barely twitching on the place, fingers clawing at his high ribs. “No, no, please!”

“Yes, Roman?” Logan answered, using the opportunity to give the other a break and stop his tickling.

“You know what I realized? That Patty Cake here,” Patton’s giggles only got higher when Roman decided to nuzzle his neck, words coming out muffled as they hit the sensitive skin. “Who has the purest, sweetest dazzling smile, haven’t told us how amazing he is today.”

“Nonono, please not this! Not this!” Patton turned to Logan, who was the more susceptible and within his field of view. He put the best puppy eyes he could muster through his giggles and uncontrollable titters that still fell from his lips. “Lo-lo,” he pouted in order to give his face a stronger power. Logan stared at him as a deed caught in the light. “Plehehea- nahaha!” A shriek flew from his mouth. “Roman, not fair!”

Roman smirked, dramatically preparing himself for another raspberry.

“Don’t even think about using your evil Puppy Eyes on our defenseless Microsoft Nerd!” He drowned Logan’s protest by making Patton shriek with another attack. Peals of loud laughter filled the room when he decided to release smaller raspberries, traveling from one side to other of the cat lover’s neck.

“Anyway,” Logan ruffed, concentrating a sea of squeezes on Patton’s knees as a revenge, relishing in the way his blush travelled over all his face when snorts and squeals began to become more and more frequent. “You were talking about making Patton tell us something?”

“Oh, yeah! I was thinking about being really nice today, since our dear Laffy Taffy Patty looks a bit tired.” As the words came out of his mouth, Roman changed his technique to something softer, watching amused as Patton wiggled non when he decided to drag his fingers on his sides, scribbling them to his chin - and, of course, resting a couple of kisses on his neck, he wasn’t a monster - and them tapping his way down, this time choosing to give a bit of attention to his shaky tummy. “So we could just make him admit something small and simple, really! You won’t even notice when the words come out, dear!” He changed his attention to the victim on his arms, hugging him close and nuzzling him.

“Please! Not there, not there!!” Patton tried to dislodge the other’s tickly affection from his ears and neck, but being constantly distracted by Logan, who kept sneaking horribly, unbearable scratches to the sensitive skin under his knees everytime he stopped trying to pry his hands from his legs. “I wihihill give you my cohohokies! All of them! Plehehease.”

“That is very kind of you, Patton. However, I think it isn’t very polite of you to interrupt Roman like that.” Logan tsked, now letting go of both his knees to concentrate his efforts in tormenting the weak spots of just one. “Please, I do ask for you to refrain from laughing about such a serious matter. I can almost believe you’re not taking your cheering up as seriously as we are.”

“I am! I am!!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because you-” he snorted, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “You are t-tickling me!”

Logan’s eyes lit up with mischief, a playful wink being thrown at Roman’s direction before he returned his gaze to the previously-sad friend. “I can guarantee you I am not.”

“Falsehohohood!”

“Very well.” The one with an unicorn onesie lifted his arms, crossing them on his chest just as the other attacker also stopped his tickling. “See? I am not even touching you. And yet you’re still giggling yourself silly as, ah, Roman would say.”

Patton clamped his mouth shut, trying to keep the remainescent giggles trapped on his chest, a slight feeling of dejavu hitting him. He shook his head.

“No? You’re not a Smiley Laffy Taffy, you say?”

“Stop stealing my sweet nicknames!”

Just as the one with a big, truly gigantic smile would shake his head again, his giggling actually being subdued, Roman decided that was just the perfect moment to vibrate his hands on his lower stomach, his barrier crumbling, again, in a matter of seconds.

“Roman!”

“I see.” Logan mused, in between Patton’s high pitched squeaks when the other failed to cease his attack. “So, you're a serious case of Giggle Bug.”

“Am not!” He cried in protest, holding Roman’s pulse, not really trying to push it away.

“Oh, no!” Roman dramatically cried, fishing more laughter from the puppy lover. “What are we going to do Patton? Are we doomed to hear your cute, amazing giggly giggles and delightful laughter forever and ever and ever? What shall we do, Specs?”

Logan sighs, deep and serious, adjusting his glasses. “I fear there is nothing we can do except mitigate this unfortunate situation. As you can see…” Logan poked Patton’s torso, prodding some of the most ticklish ribs with a tiny, soft smile when the other bounced around, happy yelps pouring from his lips. He cleaned his throat, going back to the character. “This ribcage is full of all sorts of trapped squeals, snorts, squeaks, titters and giggles. As Patton’s friends, we must free them all to help him.”

“Crofters!” Patton suddenly blurted out, his laughter almost making the words untelligible. “I will tell you where Ro-ro keeps his Crof-nahahaha!” Patton squirmed when Roman kneaded his hips, a mischief glint still present on his smile. “Rohohoman!”

“Dishonesty! Trickery! Treason!” The one with red pajamas protested with a betrayed shriek. “Patton! After all the adventures we had gone through, after accepting you in my family as a brother, how could you do that to me? Oh, jail for friend! Jail for the Giggle Bug for one thousand of years!”

“I am sorry! I am very sahahaharrey!” Patton’s eyes widened when he saw Roman form a claw with his both hands, slowly descending them to his belly. “Waitwaitwait! Ro! Ro-ro! Ple-please!”

“No can do, Patty Cake.” Roman sighed in faux sadness, wiggling his fingers for a good effect. “Now I have no alternative except having to getcha, getcha, getcha! Your yummy tummy is all mine, now. ~”

But then nothing happened.

Roman’s hands stopped, leaving a puddle of giggly Patton to basically melt more in his embrace, lost in titters and phantom tickles.

“Oh,” Roman said, carefully, the tune of his voice making a shiver run across Logan’s spine. “Hello, Logan.”

Logan accepted his fate, trying another experimental squeeze at the dramatic friend’s side and receiving, just like his first try a few seconds ago, no reaction. He sighed. “I presume you’re not ticklish on your sides, then.”

“And I presume it just takes the mention of Crofters to make you turn the tables.” Roman gave Patton a last quick kiss on his neck, gaining another happy giggle before ruffling his hair. “Excuse me, Giggly Bug, it seems like our dear Blushy Bear is craving for a bit of my tickly attention right now.”

Patton hugged his sides, smile shiny as the sun, the clouds which previously assaulted him haven been already disappeared for a long time, now. His gleaming eyes glued on Logan, smile widening when he remembered he was the one who started everything.

“Get him, Ro-ro!”

And, as pleas and teases felt the air, Patton took another deep breath, letting his friends have some fun before he turned the tables at Roman, since he also deserved some good, nice tickles for being such a caring friend. Soon enough Logan’s laughter rang across the room and Patton only smiled wider.

Full of life, indeed.

#The beginning is quite sad but I swear it gets much lighter and fun in just some paragraphs #Finally managed to reduce my introduction I've been trying to do this for AGES but no idea appeared in my mind #<333 #Patton and Logan's friendship was so so incredibly funto write I can't believe I've been stopping myself to write logicality for years bc-#-I was afraid of not doing them justice #I am literally so happy I managed to finish this fic. I am so so proud of it. Finally I wrote some nice cheer up tickles #aaaaa #You can pry them being happy and having fun together from my very cold dead hands #Lee!Patton #Ticklish!Patton #Ler!Logan #Ler!Roman #Mouth tickles #Sanders Sides tickles #Sanders Sides tickling #Kanene's fic #Kanene's Fanfic #Human AU #Alternative universe #If you read this before I remember to edit and put the title no you didn't sdfrgthyujikcv #xD

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sp00ky-arts · 3 years

Text

You Take My Breath Away

I can’t believe I’m doing this *hides face* Okay so I wrote this some time ago but never got to posting it because I thought it was trash (though I draw mostly anyway.) I was having Bo feels and needed to let them out so I wrote this for the heck of it. So enjoy this crappy smut story.

Synopsis: Basically you patch up Bo after a victim gets difficult and things get heated

(Sorry if Bo is a little out of character I changed him a bit)

You were making your way up to the gas station to see what Bo was up to. You tended to stay away from their work, as they didn’t want you getting mixed up in the mess, but it was okay because you preferred it that way. A few months back you were actually a victim yourself. However, miraculously things changed and were spared, you became part of this little family. They very rarely used you as a distraction like I said before but sometimes it came in handy having a girl around. The guys seemed to warm up to you pretty quickly. Lester warmed up to you instantly when he first spoke to you the first time, Vincent took a liking to you as well, him being a brother figure to you. Bo was a little bit harder at first but eventually he came around, sharing a bond quickly. But truth be told, you had a bit of a crush on the bastard mechanic man. It was insane to have a crush on someone who was about to literally kill you, yet you couldn’t stop thinking about the blue eyed man. So you simply buried those feeling and moved on.

Upon arriving at the gas station you here clattering noises and you froze. ‘Was he dealing with a victim?’ You though to yourself. Maybe you should come back later. But hearing Bo yelp out, your curiosity peeked further. Walking slowly down the basement were the noises became louder. Your heart beating at the possibilities that could be going on right now. Reaching the bottom of the stair your eyes widened at what you saw. Bo was indeed dealing with a victim that got loose. His nose seemed to be bleeding, and judging from the bruises that were forming he’s taken a few blows as well. Part of you should you feel relief that he was getting a taste of his own medicine, but another part you wanted to jump into his defence. After all, you had no one to go home to really. Home life was a struggle to begin with, and on top of that you found out your boyfriend had been cheating on you with your now ex-best friend so there was that. Really nothing to go back to. Here, you oddly felt at home, relaxed and at peace. Back home it was just pure and utter chaos. Seeing a lone crow bar strewn on the floor among all the ruckus, you pick it up, a firm grip as you tiptoed behind the man who was currently taunting Bo with a knife. His eyes flicked to you quickly before looking back at the man and feigning a look of defeat.

“Well, l-looks like…. you got me fair n’ s-square, man. You win.” He said in between breaths to make it seem more believable.

“That’s right, motherfucker, you’re gonna rot in hell when I-” You struck the man at the back of his head cutting him off. The sickening crack could be heard before he slumped to the floor knocked out.

“Fuckin’ prick. Help me get him upstairs, Vincent’s on his way.” He stood up, a groan of pain escaped his lips as he stood up from his crouched position. You did as told, dropping the crow bar and grabbing the other side of the man that was still unconscious. You made it upstairs and sure enough Vincent was already there waiting. He tossed him in the back of the truck and with a wave he drove the man back to the house to finish with him. You look back at Bo as you heard him making groaning sounds again.

“You okay?” You ask, frown on your face.

“Yeah, it’s just, the fuckin’ dick can really pack a punch. Shit…” He hisses in pain.

“Let me get the first aid kit.” You say and walk back into the gas station with Bo in tow.

“Where is the first aid kid?” You asked as you couldn’t seem to find it on the upper level.

“Downstairs.” He pointed back downstairs. You drag him by the hand and brought him back downstairs before telling him to sit in the chair.

“it’s okay, darlin, you don’t have to.” Bo spoke up. The nickname made you heat up. You’ve heard it so many times and yet it still caused butterflies to rise in your stomach.

“I know, but I just want to help, besides some of those could get infected.” You gestures to some of the cuts on his face. He chuckled and let you do your thing.

“Always keen on helpin’ out, don’t ya, sweetheart.” He muttered mostly to himself. You bring over the first aid kit and trying to get to his height as best you can. Trying not to cringe at the bruise that was blooming on his cheek as well as cuts.

“Now, you gotta ice the bruises because those look nasty, but I can put a little Polysporin on the cuts.” (I googled it, you can put polysporin on cuts, scrapes, and burns.) You took a bit of the cream on your finger and gently dabbed it on his open cuts. Bo was so focused on you as you tended to his wounds, your face burning as he was watching your every move. You tried ignoring it and focused on your task at hand but it was getting difficult, you could feel his minty breath on you, lips practically beckoning you for a kiss. You should stop before you start creating scenarios in your head.

“Okay and done. It’s not the best but it’s what I can do for now, hopefully it helps, just gotta ice those bruises…actually I think we-” You started to say but Bo pulled you back into him. You were practically on top of him, you were sure if you moved at the right angle your lips would touch. Your gaze locked at his lips before looking up at his eyes.

“Bo?” You ask, quirking your brow up at him. He stares at your lips and bites his before he meets your eyes. He starts leaning in and your heart starts thumping in your chest. ‘Holy shit, is this about to happen right now?’ you think to yourself. He was so close that if you nudged forward in the slightest you’d be kissing.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He muttered lowly. Before you had time to comprehend what he said, he quickly shut his eyes and placed his lips atop yours. You were practically stone in your position as Bo proceeded to kiss you. Crap, it was happening. Your eyes slowly closed and gently kissed back, the taste of copper stimulated your senses. Hands placed on his shoulders gently, as you didn’t really know where else to put them, kissing him with a lot more passion and vigor. He licked your bottom lip asking for entrance. Your eyes widened at and pulled away, gasping for breath.

“What happened?” Bo asked, searching your face.

“D-Do you think, we’re moving too fast?” You asking biting your lip.

“You wanna stop?” He asked back. He got you there. It honestly felt good but you weren’t sure if this was moving too quickly, still you shook your head no. He smirked at that.

“Then where were we?”

“I think we were here.” You reply with a smirk of your own. Crawling up until you straddled his lap and re-connecting your mouths once again. It soon became a dance of tongues and hands exploring as you melted into each other. Before you knew you were both stripped out of your clothes aside from your bra and panties and his boxer briefs.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Bo mumbled against your neck, pepper soft kisses on the supple skin. You leaned back to give him more access.

“Nnghhh..B-Bo…” You moan out. His hands traveled down your back, stopping at the clasp to your bra where he quickly undid it with no problem. He tossed the material across the room and looked at your now revealing chest. He trailed down to where he was facing your chest, sucking a taut nipple into his mouth. He lashed his tongue over the nub as you gripped onto his hair.

“Jesus, Bo, s-slow down…” You moan. You didn’t expect that this would happen, but man was this better than your imagination.

“Sorry, Doll, just can’t control myself.” He says switching to the other. As much as you like this foreplay that was going on, you just wanted him inside of you already.

“B-Bo, can you..ahhhh,, c-can you please put it in.” You bite your lip.

“Can’t wait can you? That’s alright neither can I, wanted to tear into you for quite some time now, babygirl.” Bo rasps. He takes off his undergarments along with your, leaving you both completely naked.

“I wanna ride you.” You say, cheeks heated.

“Go ahead, Darlin’, it’s all yours.” You bite your lip as you align yourself with his member.

“Can’t wait to tear into this cunt.” He utters to himself. You sink onto him as he held himself for you. You both groan at the feeling, you for feeling full, and him because the tightness and warmth your cunt is doing to him.

“Holy shit, Bo…” You toss your head back as you begin slow movements, up and down slowly. However, this just wouldn’t do, you needed more. You speed up your movements and set a good pace.

“Shit…now ya sure you’ve never done this, Darlin’? He asked. You slap his chest and playfully roll your eyes at his comment.

“Hey, I’m kidding, I’m kidding..fuck.”

“Ohh sorry, did I hurt you?” You say in worry.

“Nah, I’m fine.” You continue your ministrations. You couldn’t believe you were already feeling like you were gonna finish.

“B-Bo, I-I think I’m gonna….” You moan out. Bo’s hand darts to your clit and starts rubbing quick circles on it as as he fucks in to you harder, you felt your walls start to flutter

“That’s it, do it.” He instructs. You came with a moan and a shout of his name and that was enough to send Bo over the edge to his release.

“Shit, baby…” He groans and clenches his eyes shut. You slump against him out of breath as he holds your still shaking body against his.

“Bo?” You look up at him, eyes searching into his blue hues.

“Mmm?” He hums while stroking your hair and staring back at you.

“You know I care about you.” You say.

“I know ya do, darlin’ He replies tucking hair behind your ear and kissing you softly.

If for some reason you want to see more let me know.

#slasher x reader #slashers #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax #slasher #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair smut

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hizashis-lil-bunbun · 3 years

Text

BNHA Valentine’s Day Headcanons!

Happy first day of February! Some of my Discord friends and I were brainstorming how different My Hero characters would celebrate Valentine’s Day. So let’s give ‘em a whirl! All characters are adults or aged up to be 18+ in these scenarios.

Big thanks to @varnienne, @emmappelle, @sweet-darling91, @donica95, and @katsontherun for letting me bounce ideas off of them. 💖

⚠️MOSTLY FLUFF BUT THERE IS SOME NSFW AHEAD!⚠️

Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic)

SFW

Gotta start with my blonde bby. And the best way I can describe his ideal Valentine’s is BIG and LOUD!

He’s never been one shy away from telling you how he feels, but he’s especially talkative on V-Day. Going on and on about how lucky he is, how much he loves you, etc.

It’s love songs all day, baby! From blasting modern pop songs while he makes breakfast to sweet, old-fashioned tunes that he makes you slow dance with him to in the living room. He’s a true romantic (and a surprisingly good dancer to boot).

And he might even (re: definitely will) serenade you. The man is a musician after all! In fact, don’t be surprised if Hizashi wrote a song just for you.

As far as gifts go, Hizashi goes all out. He’s a hero and a celebrity, with the salaries to match. So you can expect a few big ticket items. Plus, he’s a good listener. If you ever mentioned something you needed/wanted/expressed interest in, chances are it will arrive wrapped up in red and pink paper on the day.

“Hey little listener! Remember how ya said you might wanna try painting? No? Well I turned the spare room into a studio for ya anyways! Maybe you can make me something to hang up at the station, yeah?”

But just because his gifts are expensive and flashy, that doesn’t mean he devalues your own. Hizashi will blubber and gush over anything you give him, from lavish luxuries to a something as simple as a homemade card. Loudly I might add. Make sure to have earplugs handy.

Unfortunately, one of the drawbacks of having a radio star as your partner is that he’ll most likely have to work on Valentine’s Day. It’s even worse if he had teach that day as well. So don’t count on any fancy dinners until after the 14th.

But if you tune into his station on the day (and you will), there will be at least three or four songs dedicated to “his favorite little listener.”

NSFW

Even if he can’t be with you on the actual night, he’s definitely going to make up for lost time. Mood music, candlelight, the whole nine yards. He wants to romance you. To make you feel as good as you make him feel everyday.

Oral and overstimulation are the name of the game, and Hizashi is a giver through and through. He’s happy as a clam once he’s got his face buried between your legs, making you cum for the umpteenth time that night. Seriously, does he ever come up for air?

Praise is also a big thing for him. It flows from his mouth like the sweetest wine. And with his quirk, every whispered word and groan against your body feels just as intoxicating. Good vibrations indeed.

He also loves it when you’re vocal. No love song can compete with the way you cry and moan under his touch. He’ll make you sing for him all night long and into the morning hours.

“Damn, baby. I love you so damn much. Love the way you look cumming on my tongue. Think you can do it again?”

Eijiro Kirishima

SFW

Okay. This boy adores Valentine’s Day! Like it’s his favorite holiday.

And how can he not? Everything in the stores is red! He can stock up on red merchandise for the rest of the year in the span of a week. And believe me, he does.

This means his partner should expect a lot of the cliché gifts on the big day: teddy bears, heart-shaped boxes, and red roses to name a few. Oh, and he’s definitely got a stockpile of cheesy, punny Valentine cards centered around his and his friend’s hero personas.

His favorite is the one that says “I think you’re a Red Riot! Be my Valentine?” But maybe that’s partially because it came from you.

Kirishima doesn’t just shower you with crimson trinkets; he buys treats for everyone! Especially his closest friends. To him, Valentine’s is all about showing the people he loves most just how much he cares. And it’s honestly adorable to see him practically bouncing off the walls in excitement when he finds a little red treasure for this year’s celebration.

“Babe! Look at that red shark plushie. It looks just like me! So manly!”

*proceeds to buy seven of them: one for him, one for you, and one for everyone in the Bakusquad + Tetsutetsu*

But at the end of the day, once all the chocolates and stuffed animals have been given away, he’ll make sure you know there’s no one he loves more than you. He spends the final hours alone with you, eating a home cooked meal and cuddling on the couch. Times like these are his favorite, just being to hold you close and appreciate your presence in his life.

Fair warning though. You’ll probably end up watching some some cheesy romcom, cuz he loves those too.

NSFW

Of course, the red theme continues in the bedroom: red rose petals, red sheets, even a set of red lingerie he bought just for the occasion. Which he proceeds to rip apart minutes after you’ve gotten them on. Hope they weren’t too expensive.

Kirishima tries to be gentle with you, he really does. Savoring your pleasure and letting your orgasms crest and fall naturally. He wants to see you cooing and boneless by the end of the night.

But sometimes he underestimates his own strength and gets a little rougher than expected. Maybe he gives too sharp of a love bite, or squeezes your hips a little too hard. But it’s all done out of passionate love, so you don’t mind too much.

You might actually prefer it if he gets a little rougher.

However, if you wanna get kinky, there is one thing Kiri’s always down for: pulling you over his knee for a good, old-fashioned spanking. His quirk is perfect for it, hardening the palm of his hand just before it smacks down on the soft flesh. It’s like he has a set of built-in paddles. Trust me, if you let him get into a good rhythm, by the end of the night your ass will match the Valentine’s decor perfectly.

“Not pushing you too hard am I, beautiful? I know I can be unbreakable sometimes, but I never want to break you. I love you too much to do that.”

Mirio Togata

SFW

TBH, before he met you, Mirio was a bit of a player (which is kinda canon). Like “has a different date every year” player.

And can you blame him? He’s a total heartbreaker with that (le)million dollar smile and those baby blue eyes. He got so much Valentine’s chocolate from girls in high school, it was sickening! But with you, things are different.

For starters, he’s not so big on material gifts. Giving or receiving.

“How could I want anything more when I’ve got my sunshine right here?”

No, this sweet himbo is all about making memories with his partner! Sharing experiences and spending as much quality time together as possible.

So he plans everything days, sometimes weeks, in advance. Budgeting his time and money to squeeze as much love into a single day as humanly possible.

The moment you wake up on February 14th, he hits the ground running. Quite literally! He’s practically doing laps around your bedroom in his excitement to get the day started.

Valentine’s Day with Mirio turns out to be a marathon of couple activities. Bike riding to a local café for breakfast. Sight-seeing in Tokyo followed by ice cream in the afternoon. He even manages to sniff out a carnival for you to go to in the evening, letting you run amok on the rides and games. And yes, he definitely spends too much money trying to win you one of those giant stuffed animals.

By the end of the day, you’re thoroughly spent and just want to snuggle up next to him. And maybe have a late night snack of chocolate. Mirio is more than happy to indulge you, even offering to carry you home. Anything to be close to his precious sunshine.

NSFW

Despite your sleepiness and aching feet, Mirio insists he has one last surprise to give you. So he asks you to lay face-down on the bed and wait for him. Naked of course.

Once he finds what he’s looking for, he straddles your tailbone with his thighs and squirts something slippery onto your back. You yelp at the cold sensation and that earns a laugh from Mirio. He tells you it’s massage oil. One specifically designed to relieve muscle tension.

It’s like he knew you’d be sore after his day of non-stop adventuring. Almost like he planned it... What a smooth criminal.

It makes sense though. Maybe it’s because his quirk requires him to pass through things, but physical touch is his primary love language. Nothing grounds him quite like having you in his arms, worshiping every inch of your body.

He works you over, kneading at the muscles in your back, hips, and legs with steady pressure and prescision. He even rubs your feet, making the earlier pains melt away into bliss.

You’re almost too sleepy and relaxed to realize one of his hands is creeping up your body until it’s too late. Next thing you know, he’s curling his fingers into you, amplifying the pleasure of the massage in a new way. Like I said, Mirio’s a smooth criminal when he wants to be.

“Feeling good, sunshine? Yeah, I’ll bet you are. You always look so cute like this... just makes me want to kiss you all over. Maybe I will! But I think you’re still a little tense right... here.”

#hizashi yamada #kirishima eijirou #mirio togata #bnha headcanons #valentines #present mic #red riot #lemillion #bnha smut #mha headcanons #mha smut

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son-fuori-di-me · 3 years

Text

"I had no idea I could change someone's life."

One Shot. Word Count | Around 3300. Description | <French female pov> you're visiting Rome for the first time, and you casually meet Damiano David the day before the Circo Massimo concert. The conversation takes a unexpected path.

Content | Real talk. No romantic development. * Expect French idioms and italian approximations from automatic translators

---

"Bordel, c'est immense !" ("Holy cow, that's big !") I said, looking at the Circo Massimo.

It was my first time in Rome. Knowing Italy a bit, I expected a hell lot of sun, a delicious bunch of ice cream for each meal, and tons of pretty things to snap with my phone. Well, that was the plan for my first two days there. Cause Saturday would be a very different day. Saturday would be Måneskin day.

I've been waiting for so long to do this trip. And what a blast it has been for now. Took only a bag, my external battery, some makeup and my favourite clothes to finally discover this astonishing city. This was my first solo trip. I've always travelled with my family or my ex, but never on my own. For once, I could decide what I wanted to see, what I wanted to eat, when to take a break. And as there are plenty of things to see in Rome, i wanted to enjoy every second of my trip. I could focus my last day there solely to the Måneskin concert happening that Saturday night. But as I didn't want to leave anything to chance, I decided to precisely organize my last day, so I could visit a bit more - a get a last fantastic meal before the concert.

I got myself a gold pit ticket. I guessed that would mean I had a special queue. So on Friday night, as I was back from a late tour in town, I decided to watch more closely the Circo, to check for the entrances, and see how I could sharpen my organization and schedule for the next day.

"J'espère que je vais pas avoir à poireauter toute la journée, avec la chaleur qu'il va faire." ("I hope won't have to hang around here all day tomorrow, the weather's gonna be hot as hell")

It was almost 10 pm. I was getting closer to the Circo, trying to read the boards, but all was written in italian and didn't seem to concern the concert. And a year fangirling over Måneskin clearly wasn't enough to become fluent. I saw no sign mentioning "gold pit". So I decided I would ask around, with Google translate ready in my phone in case I couldn't find anyone speaking English.

I saw a guy sit on a bench, smoking. He was dressed in an ugly dark sweater, with the hood over a cap. He was either a drug dealer or a hobbo. My instinct as a girl living in Paris got the uphand and I decided to ignore the guy and try to find a woman instead, or maybe a group of locals, to get me the information I wanted. Unfortunately, after a good 20 minutes walking around and asking people, no one could tell me how to make sure I find the right queue for the concert. I was about to give up and head back to my airbnb and I saw a silhouette still sitting on a bench, near the Circo. It was the same guy from earlier. "Bon, je tente, s'il est trop chelou, je me barre." ("Well, might as well take the risk, if he's too much a weirdo, I clear off quickly.")

"Scusi, do you speak English ?" i said, getting closer to the guy, but still from a good distance in case it turned wrong.

"Pretty good. You need something ?" He was searching something in his pockets and reached his pack of cigarettes. His voice was deep, but gentle. He did look funny but didn't sound dangerous - i still didn't get too close as I hate the smell of smoke.

"Do you know well il Circo Massimo ? I'm going to a concert here tomorrow and I want to make sure I find the right queue, but they haven't installed any sign yet". I asked, showing the structure of the stage behind me.

"Cute accent, where are you from ?" he answered, completely ignoring my question.

"Well, I'm French. So, do you know il Circo ?" I preferred to quickly repeat my question to let him know I wasn't interested in whatever he was trying to.

"Ah, Bonjour ! I speak a little French !" He said, now reaching for his lighter.

"Yeeaaaah cool, but how about the Circo ? I'd like to be here early enough, but I don't know wh-" I froze as he lighted up his cigarette. It was brief, but with the spark, I saw his face for a second.

"Hm ? You don't know what ?" He asked, with a smirky voice.

"Mais naaaan ?" ("Dont tell me -") I let out that typical French astonished sound without thinking. "You gotta be kidding me !"

He laughed as I was getting a little closer, staring at him. With one hand, he was putting his lighter back in his pocket, with the other, he lifted a bit his cap. It was him. It was Damiano.

I felt my spine shiver with that uncomfortable sensation of being around someone famous. As a journalist, I had my lot of interviews, so I knew there's no point in changing behavior around such people. But I still was flabbergasted to see him.

"Sorry, I didn't recognize you. Well, gotta say you're not dressed in your best outfit !" I chose the strategy of sass, to hide how impressed I actually was.

"That's my favourite sweater you're seeing me in, and I'm smoking hot in it" He said with a smirk, getting into the sassy game.

"Time off before the big day ?" I asked, completely forgotting about my initial request and switching to my interview mindset when I'm super focused about the conversation. "Shouldn't you be having a great night of sleep, to recharge your batteries ?"

"I don't feel like going to bed" He said, having no idea how the conversation would soon turn. Fortunately for him, I wasn't working in the music media industry. "That's quite a stage we're gonna play on."

I didn't know why he was talking to me about all of this. I didn't dare to ask him either. I just enjoyed the moment.

"Well, the Eurovision song contest was bigger, wasn't it ?"

"Hm, don't tell me about it, I still don't know how I managed that."

He suddenly had a strange tone in his voice. It didn't sound like the radiant and confident Damiano you see on Instagram stories or on TV interviews. I remembered where I heard him like that. In the 2019 documentary "This is Måneskin", the making of Il Ballo Della Vita album, in the sequence he's arguing with Vic on a train, as he tells her how anxious he can be get sometimes.

"Well, you did, didn't you ?" I put on a more serious voice. "And you had a ton more of pressure, representing your whole country ? So how a concert here in your home town could be worst than performing in front of all of Europe - not to say the whole world ?"

He was still smoking, listening in silence.

"Or maybe it isn't about how big the performance is but about performing in itself ? Why are you performing ? Why are you putting on a show ? All those fancy clothes and that makeup, who is it for ? For people to love you ? Or for you to love yourself ?"

Mais qu'est-ce que je branle ? Il va se barrer dans deux secondes, là c'est sûr (What the fuck am I doing ? He's leaving any second now.) I got a bit too excited about being able to share a few words with him. What's gotten onto me ? Well, let's go then.

"What is it you're running after ? Or running from maybe ? Some complex to compensate ? With all that smudge and confidence, that wouldn't surprise me."

He sat back on the bench. As he inhaled a deep breath of smoke, I saw a smile on his face. But I also saw his hand holding the cigarette shaking.

"Are you a psychiatrist or something ?" He simply said, as if he was trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.

I hesitated to tell him the truth. I was sure he would walk away the second he would know my actual job. Et puis merde, autant tout dire. (Well, fuck, might as well be honest.)

"Nope, I'm a journalist." I admited, as he looked right back at me with a surprised look. "Pretty much the same. We get appoitments with random people, listen to their life, observe their body language, and tell them our whole opinion about all of it, which might very well shape how they perceive themselves from now on."

"Only difference is that you don't have to keep anything secret. Right the contrary."

There. This was it. He was gonna leave now, for sure.

"Before you go, did I hit any truth ? Don't worry, I'm not in the music media industry, I won't write anything from our conversation." I hoped this information would save me a few more seconds with him.

He didn't answer right away. He didn't leave either. He kept looking at me, still smoking his second cigarette in a row now.

"Whatever it is you write about, I guess you must be good at it" he finally replied. "Cause you did score a few points."

Another short silence broke. As a fan, I was obsessed with his music, lyrics, and attitude. But catching a glimpse of what lied behind the glamour definitly caught my interest. I wanted to know more.

"Why are you here ?" I slightly deepened my voice, getting back to my interview tone, and kept on going with this as if that was usual business for me. "It's half past 10. You play on Rome's largest stage tomorrow. You surely better should be in bed, or be about to, before the big day."

In that moment, I had the upper-hand in the conversation. He was sat on the bench, I was on my feet in front of him, and therefore above him. Not the best approach to get someone's trust for an interview, but with a personnality like Damiano's, you gotta put your own show.

"I actually don't sleep much before big events like these" He finally answered, accepting his condition as an interviewee. "I don't sleep much at all."

"You're tend to insomnia ?"

"Not really, I just got used to 4-5 hours of sleep, that's it."

"Even during tours ? Cause this all sold-out European tour for Teatro d'Ira must have been exhausting".

"You have no idea, bellezza."

"So tell me." From there, I decided to change my strategy and sat on the ground, still in front of him, but giving him the upper-hand, to put on a more trustful atmosphere. "How are you doing ? And I don't mean, like casual 'yay, fine', I mean : how are you doing ?"

I still have no idea of my tactical move of giving him more space to express himself worked, or if he understood right away where I was leading him, but in the end, he still didn't seem bothered by this conversation we were having. In fact, it looked like he was enjoying it.

"I'm... content, I'd say." He paused, and I didn't interrupt him with another question this time. "I know I'm going through the life I wanted. The music, the tours, the praise. It's all I could have ever asked for."

D'accord, très bien, mais ? (Okey, very good, but ?) I stayed silent, but I couldn't help anticipating what he was saying.

"But surprisingly, sometimes it's still... unfulfilling. Like I can never be satisfied".

Repressing some Hamilton's lyrics from my mind, I innocently pretend I didn't fully understand what he meant - another journalistic technique, to get someone to repeat themselves with other words in order to get them deeper into their reflexion.

"What do you mean, "never be satisfied" ? You're on top of Spotify chart list, your albums are now platinum successes, you're winning awards. How is this not satisfying ?"

"It's just... What are all those things for ? Money ? Fame ? Yeah, I like those but..."

"Typical Capricorn" I muttered, to slide in the conversation that I actually knew pretty well my subject - my subject being him. He chuckled.

"Damn really ? Let me guess ? Aries ?"

"Pisces+Taurus, actually. So what, you don't like being famous ?" Getting back quickly into more questions - another technique to keep control over the rhythm of an interview.

"It's not that I dislike it. It's just... not always as fun as I thought it would be."

"What part of the job ? The writing and composing ?"

"No, that's the best part." He reached for a third cigarette. It was almost 11 pm now. "Vic, Thomas and Ethan. Måneskin. They're the best thing that ever happened to me".

"Then what, you feel like a fraud ?"

"Hell, no ! I'm exactly where I should be." He claimed, with a light pride tone.

"So, if you're proud of what you create, and if you love the people you create that with, then what is the matter ? If life is about getting the Bare Necessities, it seems like you got it all." Hitting with a universal - and musical - reference. Shoud do the trick.

"Hahaha ! Lo stretto indispensabile, si ! But life isn't that easy." He said laughing, as I felt he started to let go of the tension. "In real life, you get judged all the time, and people try to dismantle you, and spread rumors."

"I didn't think you'd be one to listen to people's comments about you".

"I'm not. I stopped giving credits to those. But it's still here, you know ?"

"From what I see, you're keeping it real, with lots of wisdom. I can't quite grasp what seem to bother you."

He paused, looking at his feet for a few seconds.

"I'm afraid it won't last." He finally confessed. "I'm afraid it all ends as quickly as it all started. I'm afraid people get bored. I'm afraid I become a caricature of myself. I'm afraid I can't write new songs. I'm afraid to be a shooting star, you see ? Very bright, but gone in a flash."

"Like, to be an Icare ? Or may I say "Ykaaar" like on your Instagram ?"

He chuckled again.

"Huh, I'm that obvious ?"

"Yeah, even a bit over-the-top, if I may dare say so."

"Well, I've always related so much with this mythological figure. I mean what's wrong with aiming for the Sun ?" He said, pointing a hand to the dark sky above us. From his attitude, I could tell he was way more relaxed than in the beginning. He even took his cap and hood off, so I could now see his face more clearly. His eyes were glittering. "Burning your wings... What's that morale supposed to teach us ? Be modest ? Be moderate ? Che noia !" (How boring !)

"Well don't be !" I felt almost like scolding him. "There's nothing wrong with seeking big dreams. As there's nothing wrong with this feeling of being outrun by your life. Savour the moment. Every second of it. It's because you can't know how long it may last that it tastes so good, so thrilling ! And you actually already are ten steps ahead ! Writing songs like ´Torna a casa' or ´Coraline' at, what, 19-20 years old ? You're the real deal, dude. And even if later on, you get blank page anxiety or write just good-enough songs, it's okey. You got plenty of time to make mistakes. Take the leap of faith. Failing and being a failure aren't the same. You learn, you grow from it. It's okey to doubt yourself, but please, don't ever doubt all the love and support you get."

I paused, hoping I didn't do too far and missed my point. But in a way, I could also feel I got it right. He was looking at the Circo, his eyes even more sparkling than before.

"I..." He got up, standing on the bench, looking as tall as a statue from my perspective. He came down and took a few steps. I got on my feet, starting to feel concerned about what I just said.

"I didn't know I needed to hear that." He finally confided. "I always wanna reach perfection. I'm aware I can be authoritative, sometimes even harsh, on the band. I can't accept to be a failure. But love and support, that, I can't get enough of."

I didn't respond. There was nothing to add. This instant felt like an hour. The wind was slightly blowing through the length of the Circo in front of us. His hair reflected the gentle light of the moon, only showing her first quarter. He broke the tranquility of the moment, turning and taking a few steps in my direction.

"Grazie mille" he said, his arms opened, calling for a hug.

"But, you're very welcome" I said approaching him, softly putting my arms on his back as he put his over my shoulders. The second before his face disappeared from my vision, i noticed a tear on his cheek.

"You've completed reset my mind. I feel like I can start all over again. I was anguished, trapped by my anxiety. But it's all gone now. You've changed me. Thank you, thank you so much" He affirmed full of hope, his voice shivering.

"Wow, well. I had no idea I could change someone's life." I answered, trying to hide how moved I myself was from the conversation.

------

It was almost midnight now. We kept talking for a while, comparing life in Rome and Paris, exchanging what was our best concert experiences. But he still needed to get back home to rest before the concert, and I didn't want to arrive too late at my airbnb - even if I could have spent the whole night talking with him. Yet, to enjoy our last few minutes together, he offered to walk me back to where I was staying. It was just a 15 minutes walk, along the Tevere river bank.

"So tell me." he asked with a smirk. "How does the Bare Necessities go in French ?" He started to muffle the melody.

"Oh no, you don't expect me to actually sing it ?"

"Hehe, you got me into a therapy session, so I can get a little song from you, no ?"

"Damn, you. This is blackmail !" But drunk on the moment, I took a deep breath.

"Il en faut peeeeeeu pour être heureux, ("Look for the baaaaare necessities,") vraiment très peu pour être heureux, ("the simple bare necessities") il faut se satisfaire du nécessaire !" ("Forget about your worries and your strife")"

I started dancing along, if I had to be ridiculous, might as well utterly be. But he actually followed my lead, clicking his fingers.

"In fondo, baaaasta il minimo, ("I mean the baaaaare necessities") sapessi quanto è facile ("Old Mother Nature's recipes") Trovar quel po' che occorre per campar ! ("That brings the bare necessities of life !")

We kept on singing Disney songs for a few minutes as we walked at a slow pace - I was shocked he never saw Tarzan and immediately made him promise to watch it as i told him Phil Collins recorded all the songs in five languages, including Italian. When we finally reached my destination, we exchanged a last timid hug as farewell.

"Well, I'll see you on stage tomorrow." I told him as I crossed the street.

"And I'll look for you in the crowd !" He shouted with the brightest smile on his perfect face.

** the end **

#maneskin #damiano david #maneskin imagine #damiano david x reader #maneskin x reader #my writing

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Riding On

Ch 20- Baby, It’s Cold Outside

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

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

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

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

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

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 19

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you miss it?” Fliss asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Snow!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s it. Adams Mill Cottage.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh Frank, I love it.”

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

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

Frank placed their bags down, smiling.

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

“Like you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve jumped higher.” She shrugged

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

“We could use your truck then.”

“No, Lissy.” He rolled his eyes.

She chuckled “Spoil sport.

“Behave.”

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

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

“What?” Fliss looked at him blankly.

“You never heard of sugar on snow?”

“Is that like a snow cone?”

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

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

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

“Okay, Sailor, lead the way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve does that anyway.” She shrugged.

“That doesn’t make it normal.”

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

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

“I won’t.” Fliss shook her head.

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

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

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

“That’s disgusting.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, did you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t ever intend on stopping.”

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

“I know Sailor, keep your hair on.”

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

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

Frank shifted a little, “You think?”

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

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

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

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

“I know, but…”

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

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

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

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

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

“What is?”

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

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

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

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

“Mary was reading it the other day.”

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

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

“Marcus Aurelius.” Frank informed her.

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

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

“Close.” Fliss grinned “Goldie Hawn”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good shot.” He arched an eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I’m a huge kid at heart.”

“No shit.” He replied and she laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, this is pathetic.”

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

“Low aspirations there, Sailor!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frank let out a chuckle as did Fliss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

“That's a little over the top.”

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

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

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

“But I don’t.”

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

“Because I’m thinking of other people.”

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

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

“Assistant Professor.”

“Details.” Fliss waved her hand.

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

“You talk like one.”

“No I don’t”

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

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

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

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

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

"You have a problem."

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

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

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

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

“So not because you didn’t want to?”

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

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

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

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

"Seriously pissed."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bed?”

“Yeah. We should probably shower first.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Course you can love.”

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

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

“Like what?” Mary asked.

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

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

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

“Biscuit.” Bill shot back.

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

Bill looked down at her, then to Frank.

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

**** Chapter 21

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic #frank adler smut #chris evans #chris evans characters

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flamencodiva · 4 years

Text

Hunter Encyclopedia: 2 in the Morning

Description: Y/N has traveled the world and faced every kind of monster imaginable which is why the nickname Hunter Encyclopedia, or H.E. for short has stuck. She grew up in the hunting business and knew all about the Winchesters and read the Carver Edlund books before they came to ask her for help. Sam is the researcher and Dean is the action man, or at least that is what she thought, but could she have been wrong?

Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventual), Sam x Reader (Platonic Friendship)

Warnings: Supernatural level Violence.

A/N: written for @spndeanbingo

Square filled: 2 in the Morning

Word Count: 6717

This is also for @supernatural-jackles Bi-weekly Challenge.

Prompts I used: I dare you to kiss me and I don’t owe you an explanation

A/N 2: Border by @talesmaniac89 Beta’d by @emoryhemsworth and a special thanks to @waywardbeanie for the amazing summary!

Dean paced at the foot of the motel beds with his cell phone in his hands. It had been a few weeks since he talked to Y/N “Hunter Encyclopedia” Y/L/N. Even after the conversation they had last time they met, she still seemed to put Dean in a very peculiar box. It annoyed the elder hunter when Sam would get a phone call from her asking about specific research topics she would need, but never seemed to ask about him. Honestly, what made him hesitate to call was how she would react to it, but right now he and Sam were desperate.

Right now they were dealing with some form of Chinese monster that they stumbled upon. Dean got excited because the witness they were talking to had said the word Mogwai. The first thing that popped into Dean’s head was the movie Gremlins, but he had to be careful. He, more than anyone else, knew that sometimes stories changed over time. Naturally, one only had to look at the vampire lore to know that garlic did jack shit to them. Lifting his head from the phone in his hand, he looked at the clock on one of the motel nightstands.

2:00 am

Would she even be awake? If she was a hunter, most likely, but could he really risk calling her and waking her up from the rest she needed? He could feel Sam’s eyes on him before the movement made Dean turn his head.

“Don’t you dare,” he called out, finger pointing at his younger brother. “I’m going to call, I just need to know what to tell her.”

“You mean you need to figure out how you’re going to flirt with her,” Sam sighed as he flipped the page of the book he was reading. “Can you just call her and tell her we have an unknown Chinese monster and so far all we got is the word Mogwai?”

“I was not thinking of a way to flirt with her, I just… shut up,” Dean huffed. “I know what I need to say so I’ll call her,” he declared looking down at his phone once the screen awoke from its slumber.

Sam watched as Dean started the call, placing his phone to his ear. The younger Winchester couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of how his older brother was acting. It was rare to see Dean stumble over a girl, let alone someone who brushed him off easily. Sam chuckled when Dean’s back straightened. He figured that Y/N answered his call.

“Y/N, Dean Winchester,” Dean said as he smiled brightly. “Sorry for calling so late, Sam and I—” Sam watched as he paused and tilted his head in amusement. “Is that the Thundercats theme song?” Dean sounded like a kid being told he was getting ice cream. “Right, sorry, I just—yeah, about my call…Sam is a bit tied up at the moment, we have a very strange case going on.” Sam shook his head as Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s hard to explain, I think it’d be great if you could meet us where we are.”

“Dean, if you could describe what’s going on it would save me the trip,” Y/N’s voice rang in Dean’s ear. He could hear the hesitation in her voice at meeting up with them again.

“Y/N, we really need fresh eyes on this. I mean, all we got is one word out of one of the witnesses, an elderly Asian man,” Dean turned his back on Sam and bit his lip. “I’m not sure what it means or how to even say it, the guy spelled it out in Chinese,” he lied through his teeth.

“I mean, my Chinese isn’t the best,” he heard her sigh. “You know you can send me the picture of the word and I can have an expert look it up for you if you can’t find one.”

God, she was being difficult.

“Y/N,” Dean practically whined, “Sam and I could really use your help here. You helped us out with Ladon, you were quick on your feet,” Dean pleaded. “We could really use you. I mean, what better team could you have to hunt an unknown Chinese monster than the Winchesters and the Human Encyclopedia, Y/N Y/L/N, huh?”

“Dean,” he heard her all but whimper. “Fine,” she gave in, “give me your location, but so help me, if this is information you could have just given me over the phone I will kick you in your balls.”

“Come on,” Dean chuckled, “you know you’re dying to get to know the real me, I can tell. Besides, who says we can’t have a fun little adventure figuring this thing out? You can write about it in your journal for future generations to find.”

“I’d prefer it if this ended up as artifacts of things we never have to do anymore,” she grumbled. “Hunting is not something I would wish on even my worst enemy.”

Dean let out a low whistle. “You have a heart of gold, sweetheart,” he licked his lips. “Sam and I are in LA. Seems this thing decided to hit up Chinatown,” Dean let out a soft chuckle. “You know they have great food here, not to mention all the iconic places.”

“Are you asking me to be there for a hunt or to treat me like a tourist?” she asked.

Dean heard when she stopped packing her things to go join them.

“The hunt, of course!” Dean scoffed in mock offense, “After we take this thing down we can just kick back a bit and enjoy the scenery, you, Sam, and me,” he croaked out pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh,” she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay, I guess hanging out with friends once this hunt is successful sounds fun.”

Dean could hear the hesitation in her voice but stifled the groan at the fact that he had to include Sam in their outing. He turned to glance at Sam and waved his arms while his brother mouthed what? at him and shook his head. Dean put his finger to his lips, signaling Sam to stay quiet as he continued his conversation with Y/N. He gave her their current location with the hope that they would see her tomorrow since it was already past 2 am. Knowing that Y/N was coming made Dean a bit more relaxed.

“Come on,” he sighed before shedding his jacket, button-up shirt, and t-shirt to get ready for bed. “We should get some shut-eye before Y/N gets here tomorrow. Maybe we can talk to some more people and see if we can figure some things out on our own.”

“Dean,” Sam sighed, “why did you ask her to come? We could have—”

“You saw how she helped us with the Greek monster case,” Dean reminded him. “She’s a valuable asset and she can help us in a tight pinch! She helped your ass when the nymphs got a hold of you.”

“True,” Sam smiled, “but then that would mean they liked me more than you. Night, jerk.”

Dean scoffed. “They didn’t like you more than me, they saw me and knew they couldn’t entrap me,” Dean muttered. “Night, bitch.”

Later that same day, after Dean and Sam got at least four hours of good rest, the brothers continued with their investigation. So far, Sam had been able to acquire a book on Mogwai, and unfortunately for Sam, it was all in Chinese.

“Good thing Y/N’s on her way, right?” Dean smiled at Sam, who seemed to have a scowl on his face. “What?”

“Dean,” Sam turned to face his brother. “What are we going to do once she gets here? I mean, we know the name of the damn thing. I can find a professor and you can call Y/N and tell her not to come.”

“Not to come? Sam, we need her,” Dean said as he raised an eyebrow. “She could be an extra set of eyes.”

“Why do you want her here so bad?” Sam asked, crossing his arms.

“She’s a good hunter, and she helped us out the last time we went up against something we didn’t know about. I mean, do you know what a Mogwai is?”

“No,” Sam ran his fingers through his hair, “but it’s not that hard to figure out. I mean, I can research!”

“Awwwww,” Dean mocked, “are you jealous that I’m calling H.E. for help?”

“H.E.?” Sam asked.

“Short for ‘“Hunter Encyclopedia,” Dean shrugged. “I mean, you’re still going to do the thing you love, but she’s coming in as a fresh pair of eyes. Besides, we know she travels all over the world, so why not have her help us out?”

Sam sighed and looked over at Dean. “You’re right, she can help us out.”

“Knew you’d see it my way,” Dean leaned over and gave his brother a playful punch on the shoulder. “Let’s head back to the motel with the book and grab some food. I’m starving.”

Sam stayed silent as they made their way back, but as they got closer, he noticed the familiar car. With a smirk, he slapped Dean on his chest and pointed to the compact 2005 Honda Civic. Dean rolled his eyes at the car. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate it, not in the slightest, it was just something he never thought a hunter would ever drive, let alone someone like Y/N. He would have pegged her for a convertible girl, a nice Mustang in her favorite color. Dean reached under his seat and pulled out a small package, ignoring Sam’s call as he made his way towards the grey Civic.

Dean adjusted his jacket and knocked on the window watching as Y/N rolled it down. “Gotta say, H.E., I never pegged you as one to drive a Japanese sardine can,” he chuckled softly. “How about I take you out to a car lot after we gank whatever this is and get you a real car?”

“Compared to your very sexy car,” Y/N smiled, “I don’t have to stop every few miles to gas up. Are you going to let me get out or keep leaning on my door all day?”

Dean jumped back slightly and blushed in embarrassment, the package he had for her behind his back. “Sorry,” he waited for her to close the window and climb out of the car. “Gotta say, I didn’t really expect you to get here until tomorrow. You okay?”

“Yeah,” she sighed as she turned around to flip her chair forward to reach for her bag, missing the way Dean tilted his head as he checked out her ass. “I sorta drove as fast as I could to get here, kinda stayed up all night.”

“Shit, Y/N,” Dean cursed as he reached for her bag. “You can stay with us in our room. You should take a nap.”

Y/N shook her head stifling a soft yawn. “This is nothing. I’ve done all-nighters before, and you said it was urgent.”

Dean kicked himself mentally for doing this. Maybe Sam was right, maybe he should have just told her what they had found and sent her pictures of the text.

“Were you on a hunt?” Dean asked curiously.

“More like hunting for more artifacts,” Y/N sighed. “Got a tip on some more resources and books on some ancient things. I do have a trip to Turkey planned in the next couple of months. I have a contact who says he got some information on a different kind of Djinn, a real-life Genie. They’re not the ones we encounter here, but they seem more like a dying breed than anything else.”

“So they actually grant wishes?” Dean asked as he led her to their room. “Because I can say I was captured by𑁋”

“Djinn, yeah, I heard. How was that? I mean, I know they put you in an induced dream state that reflects your innermost desires,” she started to ramble, “but I know other Djinns induce fear and panic or just give you a recurring nightmare.”

“You could say that,” Dean sighed as he placed her bag on his bed. “You can use my bed, I’ll take the couch.”

“What? No, I can take the couch. I don’t want to take your bed away𑁋”

“You’re not, I promise.” Dean held up his hand and walked over to the small table, placing the package on top of it. “You go ahead and nap, Sam and I will order food and show you what we found.”

Y/N nodded reluctantly and let Dean help her into his bed. Something about the way the huntress curled up onto the pillow had Dean yearning to caress her cheek, but he thought better of it. They were just starting to become friends, he didn’t want her to think that she was a conquest. Then again, he wouldn’t mind if he was able to steal a few kisses from her, or more. Dean was amazed at how fast she fell asleep.

Dean and Sam ordered Chinese food from a local place close by, making sure to save some for Y/N for when she woke up. It didn’t take long for the aroma of food to rouse the sleeping huntress.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean joked. “Sleep okay?”

Y/N simply nodded as she let out a small groan and stretched. Dean couldn’t help but bite his lower lip at how adorable she looked, her hair a mess, and her shirt slightly askew. With one last stretch and a roll of her neck and shoulders, Y/N got up from the bed and made her way towards the table where Dean helped her to her seat. He offered her a container of food, which she happily accepted while grabbing a pair of chopsticks to use.

Sam and Dean seemed to have a silent conversation as she ate. She could feel the tension building between the brothers. She had read countless times how the brothers seemed to be able to have a telepathic conversation. She could tell it was from years of having to take care of each other. Y/N, on the other hand, never had siblings. She’d always been alone, having to fend for herself. Her father didn’t get into hunting later as John Winchester did, he was bred for it. Her mother was killed by a shifter pretending to be him, which led him on a crusade to end all the shifters he could.

Her father every now and then remembered he had a daughter who needed him. Not to say he didn’t have his moments, but Y/N learned to be compliant and become a good soldier. The way he spoke of her mother and the heartbreak he endured caused her to turn to books and lore for solace. It also helped keep her father alive when she found information that he could use to his advantage.

After swallowing a few mouthfuls of food, Y/N put down the container and took a sip of the beer Dean had placed in front of her. “So, what have you got so far in terms of information?” she asked, breaking the silence. “I mean, you guys are having trouble identifying the thing right? Are there any characteristics that you can tell me? Things that this thing might do that seem like a habit?”

“Oh, it’s called a Mogwai,” Sam said before his smile fell and he looked over at Dean who was ready to murder him.

“Really?” Y/N turned to look at Dean and raised her eyebrow at him. “How did you figure it out?”

“Well, H.E., you see,” Dean let out a small nervous chuckle, “we were coming back from talking to more people and found someone who could translate the word we got,” he let out beautifully, mentally patting himself in the back for being so smooth. “I mean, I was going to call you when we got back but then, well𑁋” he broke off and motioned to the bed and smiled.

“Right,” Y/N gave him a suspicious glare and nodded while clicking her tongue, “ you know it’s a thing called a Mogwai, so what does it do?”

“We don’t know,” Sam spoke up. “So far we’ve come across a shit ton of mischievous encounters and accidents that don’t seem normal.”

“Okay,” Y/N turned to Sam and smiled, “did you guys find anything useful on your second go-around with witnesses?”

“We found a book,” Sam answered, getting up from his chair and walking over to the bag on his bed and procuring the book. “We can’t really read it because it’s all in Chinese.”

“You know,” Y/N said as she turned to Dean, “you owe me big time for getting me out here. You know you guys are more than capable of handling this thing on your own.”

“Y/N, come on!” Dean whined. “You know as well as I do that if it wasn’t for your sharp senses Sam would be under the influence of nymphs and Ladon would have made me his dinner if I went to attack him head-on.”

“Dean𑁋”

“Y/N, what’s so wrong with you giving us a bit of extra hunter power, huh?” Dean asked, giving her a slightly pleading look.

Y/N tilted her head at Dean before shifting her attention to Sam and giving him a silent look. When Sam shrugged she sighed, closed her eyes, and rubbed at her temples. When she opened her eyes she gave a nod and stood from her seat, grabbing the container and chopsticks. Dean watched as she paced at the foot of the two beds, shoveling the food into her mouth. Her face was pensive, different from when they had to hunt Ladon.

“Fine,” she let out, “I will help you out.” She pointed to Dean before speaking again. “The only reason why I am helping you is that for some reason, some of these monsters from outside the States seem to be coming here, and since I have been traveling quite a bit recently, I can be useful in getting things straightened out.”

Dean happily slapped the table and let out a small cheer. “Yes! Thank you! See, you hunting with us, we are going to make an awesome team!”

“Winchester,” Y/N shook her head and placed her now empty container in the trash before turning to the green-eyed hunter. “You are not to call me for Shifters, Vamps, Rugarus, Werewolves, Djinns, Vetala, Leviathan, or any other supernatural creature that I know you know how to gank.”

By the end of her list, Y/N had walked over to him, poking his chest with every creature she named. Dean couldn’t help but swallow thickly as he gazed into her eyes. There was something there, he could see it, but he wasn’t sure what it was. When she backed away, Dean let out a sigh of relief. He continued to observe her as she went to her bag and began ruffling through it. Y/N had taken out her scanner, a portable printer, her laptop, and her battered up, almost full journal.

“Okay, do you have anything that I may need to scan to try to run it through my translator app on my laptop?” She asked looking at Sam. “I can’t guarantee success, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam snapped out of his trance having watched her handle his brother. “A guy gave us this book; he said it would tell us what we needed to know about the Mogwai.”

“You know,” Dean let out trying to join the conversation, “that damn name sounds familiar to me.”

“What? Mogwai?” Y/N let out a scoff. “I can’t believe you don’t recognize it. It’s what the fluffy gremlin was named in the movie Gremlins.”

“Holy shit! That’s it!�� Dean clapped his hands. “So is it anything like the movie? I mean, what, uh𑁋no getting it wet or feeding it after midnight right?”

“Not everything is like the movie genius,” Y/N almost sneered before taking a deep breath. “Look, it might be the same thing, there could be some truth to it, but who knows.”

Dean was taken a bit aback at her tone and licked his lips, bowing his head. “So what do you need?”

“Why?” Y/N asked him as she looked up from her laptop. “From you? Nothing, Sam and I’ve got it.”

“Don’t do this again, Y/N,” Dean groaned. “I can help.”

“Can you read Cantonese?” She asked, leaning back in her chair and raising an eyebrow at him.

“No, but Sam can’t either,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but Sam knows his way around a good computer program,” Y/N shot back trying to get back to setting up her program.

“Hey,” Dean slammed his hand on the table making her jump, “I’ll have you know I was shown how to hack and how to look through back doors by one of the best hackers I knew. His name was Frank, and he helped us stay low when the Leviathans were after us.”

“I heard about that,” Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at his attempt to be helpful, “but this isn’t hacking. If you want to help, do you think once the pages are printed and translated you can start reading?”

“I𑁋yeah, I can do that! I mean, I can read,” Dean let out before groaning in embarrassment.

Y/N reached over and patted his cheek. “I know you can, big guy, you must be so proud.”

Dean frowned and shot Sam an angry glare when he let out a laugh before coughing to try and hide it. Dean watched as Y/N put Sam to work scanning the pages of the book and waiting for the translated pages to pop up.

“Okay, I’m not going to waste what little paper I have. Once I see the word, I’ll start printing,” she sighed and rubbed her eyes.

It took an hour before Dean heard the printer come to life and start printing. Once the page was done, Y/N reached over and held it out to Dean.

“It won’t bite,” she let out, “just don’t expect me to keep handing you the pages. I need to do my own reading to make sure I’m giving you the right pages.”

Dean nodded as he took the page and began reading. For the most part, it gave a history of the different Chinese legends. He smiled when he read the next paragraph.

“Looks like there was some truth to how the movie went,” he said. “Listen to this: ‘The Mogwai is a demon that reproduces during the rainy season but is careful not to reproduce when it rains as to not bring good fortune. It likes to cause mischief and self-destruction upon any unsuspecting humans they find as their prey.’”

“Okay, so the whole thing about getting wet is because they don’t want to bring good luck while they screw?” Y/N said as she nodded. “Okay, anything on where they might hang out?”

“Sounds like it’s in every monster’s favorite place to hide,” Dean said with a smile, “any place dark and dank.”

“We’re in LA,” Y/N scoffed, “might as well say the whole city is its playground.”

“Well, let’s not waste time,” Dean said grabbing his jacket. “Let’s go and find it in Chinatown,” he suggested. “I mean, it’s where everything has been going wrong.”

The trio had left the motel room heading right back to Chinatown for their search. It took another few hours before they found the demon: a woman with red eyes and sharp teeth, her ears pointy and her fingers long. Y/N and Dean both used the idea that fire could kill it, much like the gremlins in the movie. Once it was over, Dean pulled Sam aside and cleared his throat.

“Okay, you are going to go back to the motel room and Y/N and I are going to stay out and hang out,” Dean said to Sam, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“What? Why?” Sam asked, tilting his head in confusion, “I want to hang out with Y/N too!”

“You two will have plenty of time to talk later,” Dean insisted, “so just tell her you’re not feeling too hot after I suggest we go out and explore the city.”

“You want me to lie to her?” Sam said in disbelief. “You know she could have helped us over the phone and you dragged her here for what? Because you want her to not have this ‘man whore’ image of you?”

“Tell ‘er you’ve got a tummy ache,” Dean suggested giving his brother a pleading look.

“A tummy ache, Dean? I’m not saying that.” Sam gave his brother his best bitchface.

Dean ran a hand across his face before putting both hands on Sam’s shoulders. “Then tell her you’ve got intestinal distress, something, man! Tell her you can’t go!” He gave Sam a pleading look. “Please? Sam come on, let me just have alone time with her. If I’m going to have a chance to show her that I’m more than just a ruggedly handsome face, I need to spend time with her, please.”

Sam looked at Dean’s face and sighed. His brother clearly had a thing for the huntress that had been given the title Encyclopedia. It was one of the few times Sam had seen Dean desperate to impress a girl.

“Fine,” he conceded, “but you fucking owe me, big time.”

“Absolutely!” Dean agreed, “But for now, you need to vamoose!”

Sam gave Dean a smile shaking his head before turning to Y/N and saying his goodbyes. Dean wasn’t sure what Sammy had said, but he could see Y/N’s face grow with concern.

“So, since Sammy is going back to rest,” Dean offered her a smile, “want to find a good place to hang out, eat some good food and drink?”

“I appreciate it, but I should head back and pack,” she turned to walk away from him. “Thanks for this, it was fun.”

Dean ran after her. “Whoa, wait there H.E.,” he said, cutting off her path and putting his hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong with one drink, an arcade game, or a midnight snack?”

“I𑁋” Y/N looked into his eyes and could see he really wanted her to stay. “I guess it could give me a chance to know the real you. I mean,” she offered him a small smile, “you did recognize the theme song to Thundercats, so I’m sure we can talk about a few things.”

“See,” Dean pointed out, “this is the perfect opportunity for us to talk and you can know the real me.”

The two of them walked down around Chinatown before finding a Korean barbecue spot that was open. The conversation flowed and they talked about their favorite books to read, To Y/N’s surprise, aside from Vonnegut and Tolstoy, Dean actually had an extensive collection of books.

“So how come no one knows this side of you?” She asked as she grabbed her chopsticks to pick up a piece of meat that was grilling between them.

Dean gave a shrug before downing the soju Y/N had served him. “I mean, I never really thought about it. I always tried to make sure Sam was the smart one. School for me was just a placeholder until I could hunt,” he said, grabbing a piece of meat from the grill. “I tried, don’t get me wrong, but then we’d move again and I’d have to start over and it just wasn’t my thing. I like being the cool guy, you know?”

“I get that,” she nodded, “but who said you can’t be the cool guy and smart?”

“You got a point there,” Dean said. “At the same time, I don’t really see myself doing anything else but hunting.”

“Yeah, I hear you there,” she knocked back her own shot of soju and hissed as the liquid was warm going down her throat. “I mean, I dove into my books because it was all I thought I was good for, that and my dad didn’t want me to end up like my mom. I𑁋” she paused and offered him a smile, “you’re lucky to have Sam, and he’s lucky to have you.”

“No siblings?” Dean asked and frowned when she shook her head.

“It sucks I know, but Dad really did try his best. I mean, he wasn’t perfect, but he tried.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she stared at the hot burning coals through the metal grate.

Dean rushed over to her side and pulled her in for a hug. “I know better than anyone about dads and their revenge kicks,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” she echoed and pulled away, “thanks.”

“So,” Dean decided to change the subject, “play any video games?”

That threw them into a conversation about arcades and about trying to get as many prizes from the crane machine and learning all the different tricks to win. Y/N was letting go a little more around him, the handsome hunter who she never thought she could ever talk to, yet here she was swapping stories and having a good time. The conversation turned to hunting and Y/N was laughing at a few of Dean’s stories.

“So your brother is closing up the grave and he𑁋” she stopped to giggle.

“He split his pants open, yup,” Dean chuckled. “Needless to say, I took a nice picture of it. I had to, it’s blackmail material.”

“Of course it is,” Y/N laughed.

Dean turned to look at her and his heart pounded in his chest. The way she put her whole body into it as she laughed really had him feeling something. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about Y/N that had him wanting to spend more time with her.

“I dare you to kiss me,” he said with a cocky smirk and a wink. “See if any of the stories gave you the right info about how I kiss.”

Y/N let out a snort, turning her face to hide the blush that rose in her cheeks. She blamed the soju for that. When she turned to face Dean, his face was slightly closer to her. Lifting her hand, she playfully pushed it away with a giggle. “You’re such a dork,” she let out shaking her head. “I’m not going to kiss you. Besides, you don’t want to kiss me.”

“Who says I don’t?” Dean asked as he smirked at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes before pointing to Dean and saying, “Fred Jones,” then pointed to herself, “Velma Dinkley.” She poured herself another small shot of soju. “We had this discussion before, remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Dean chuckled, “but I think you’re wrong.” Dean poured himself some more soju and smiled. “You really know how to kill a guy who’s trying.”

“Trying to what?” Y/N snorted, grabbing another piece of meat from the hot grill before placing some more on it.

“Trying to have a chance of getting a date?” Dean said casually and quickly moved to pat her back when she started coughing. “You okay?”

Y/N nodded, swatting him away. She must have heard wrong; there was no way that Dean Winchester wanted to go out on a date with her. Her, the nerd of all nerds. The nerd whose head was filled with nothing but brainy information that would turn any guy away. She looked over at Dean, whose green eyes seemed to be awaiting an answer. It was a joke, right? So Y/N did the only thing she could, laugh.

Dean raised his eyebrow in confusion. She was laughing? What was so funny about what he said?

“Sorry,” she let out after her laughter subsided, “it just sounded like you were trying to ask me out?”

“I, um,” Dean gave her an awkward smile, “I was. I mean, is the idea that funny?”

His words sobered her up really quickly. “Oh, oh gosh,” she covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry.” Putting her hands down, she seemed to be focusing on a spot on the table. “That’s a bad idea.”

“To go out with me? Why?” Dean asked, “I mean, we’re out right now.”

“Yeah, as hunting partners, celebrating a hunt that was successful,” she pointed out. “Look, I agreed to get to know you so that I could shed the misconceptions I had about you, but right now, you seem to be trying to prove me right.”

“What?” Dean tilted his head in confusion. “Me asking you out on a date is proving the misconceptions right? How?”

“Look, you’re a flirt by nature and I can’t fault you for that,” she grabbed a glass full of water and took a huge gulp, “but right now, you flirting with me is,” she took a small pause, “let’s just say that we are not each other’s type.”

Dean let out a small scoff, shoulder slumping forward. “You’re still thinking that I’m just a playboy, huh?”

Y/N swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat, “I don’t owe you an explanation, that’s how it is sometimes Dean,” she grabbed her wallet from her bag and pulled a few bills from it.

“Put it away, it’s on me,” Dean said as he placed his hand on hers forcing her to put away her wallet. “Look, I will tone the flirting down if I need to but, I do want to be your friend Y/N,” he looked up at her.

“Dean,” she found herself staring into his eyes. She couldn’t help but get lost in them. She could swear there was a small glint in his eyes, but she was imagining things. “Friends is all I can do. I’ve been burned before.”

“You tell me who he is and I can guarantee I can kick his ass,” Dean offered with a smile.

“That’s sweet, Fred,” she smiled back at him. “All I can say is that he used me for nothing more than my brains and said that my looks were nothing compared to the other huntresses he’s been with.”

“Yeah, he’s a douche,” Dean huffed. “I can promise you, H.E.𑁋” he paused and snapped his fingers shaking his head, “nope, you called me Fred, only fair I call you Velma,” he declared. “Velma, I can promise you that, and I am totally saying this as a friend, you are beautiful, and if you let me I could be your wingman!”

“My wingman?” she raised her eyebrow at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? I can filter out the assholes from the good guys,” Dean said. “I mean, you’ve read Chuck’s account of me. Tell me, has he ever written me as some of the douches you know?”

Y/N thought for a moment, and he was right: every story she read, every account she had heard all pointed to Dean being a playboy, but never in any of the stories did she ever hear of Dean treating a woman with disrespect. In fact, in some of her travels, she had encountered girls who had Dean for one night and they all said the same thing: he was a gentleman the whole night and a god in the sheets.

“I’ll think about it,” she conceded. “I’m not really looking for anything. I mean, you know this life, it’s not very conducive for having a healthy relationship.”

Dean couldn’t help but nod at that. “Yeah, I know, but doesn’t mean we have to hide and hole ourselves away from having some fun, right?”

Y/N had to laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess we should head back to the motel. I hope Sam is doing okay. Kind of sad he missed out.”

“Yeah, he’s got a very weak constitution,” Dean sighed. “Poor guy eats healthy just to keep his body from falling apart, unlike me,” he gave her his best Dean Winchester smoulder. “I’m just stronger and fitter. It’s why the ladies love me.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Y/N muttered.

“Why, Velma,” Dean acted in mock surprise, “are you saying you find me attractive?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and bumped her hip with his. “Shut up, Fred.”

When they got to the motel, Dean let Y/N change in the bathroom while he changed out in the room. Sam was laying in bed and awoke when they arrived.

“So, what happened?” Sam asked as he sat up.

“We talked,” Dean shrugged, “got to understand one another. We’re friends. Oh, and I hope you can still feel that tummy ache in the morning because you do have a weak constitution, Mr. Health Nut,” Dean said as he gave his brother a pat on the shoulder before grabbing an extra blanket and a pillow from Sam’s bed and made his way to the couch.

“What? Dean, you𑁋” Sam stopped mid-sentence when the door to the bathroom opened and Y/N walked out.

“Hey Sam, are you still feeling sick?” She asked softly, giving him a warm smile.

“Had some ginger tea, so I’m feeling slightly better,” he forced out with a thin-lipped smile.

“We should get some sleep, I have a long drive back home and I’m sure you guys have somewhere to be,” she climbed into the bed and laid down to sleep.

The next morning as they packed their things, Dean couldn’t help but steal glances at Y/N. There was just something about her that Dean just couldn’t put his finger on. Sure she was easy on the eyes, but there was something else, something that kept nagging him about the way she talked badly about herself. Shaking off his thoughts, he finished packing the last of his things and zipped up his bag.

“So I guess you head to Turkey in a few days, huh?” He asked, walking over towards her once she zipped up her bag.

“Yeah,” she breathed, “but I’m sure I’ll be able to grab some good information and artifacts to bring back,” she smiled brightly, her voice giving off a hint of excitement.

“If I wasn’t afraid of flying I’d definitely love to join you,” Dean said. “I mean, it’s the Mediterranean, so I’d love to see if you know how to belly dance,” he chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows, earning a smack on his chest from her.

“Can you turn off the charm for two seconds?” She let out a soft giggle.

“Nah,” Dean shook his head, “I wouldn’t be me if I did.”

“Touché,” she muttered. “I’ll see you guys around,” Y/N said as she was about to turn to climb into her car when she stopped and turned back to poke a finger to Dean’s chest. “Remember our deal, only monsters that you have never hunted before mister.”

“I’ll try,” Dean shrugged. “I make no guarantees. I might just want to hang out with you again.”

Y/N rolled her eyes leaving Dean to chuckle by himself as he watched her climb into her car. Once she had started to pull away from the parking lot, he turned to the Impala and Sam who was leaning against the car waving at Y/N who waved back.

“So, are you finally going to call her just to talk or will you only call her when you need her help again?” Sam asked, earning him a punch.

“Baby steps, Sammy,” he sighed, “baby steps.”

Watching the Honda Civic turn away from the motel, Dean found himself itching to call her again. He already missed the sound of her voice and the way her eyes shined when she was excited about a hunt. He swore to himself that he would call her the next day, even if it was just to check in. After all, the way to build a friendship was to take baby steps.

HE: Impala

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

“A GOD’S GIFT”.

HAPPY LOWMAN X READER

Prompt 54 requested by @HOOOLI13 and an anon. “She’s my girl”. “I’m what?”

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

WARNINGS: Smutt and fluffy Happy.

AUTHOR COMMENTS: I hope you all enjoy. English isn’t my first language, I’m sorry if I have some mistakes with grammar. The gif isn’t mine.

Tag list: @STARRYNITE7114 @CHIBSYTELFORD @DAZZLEDAMAZON @MARA-MPOU @SAMMSKELLINGTON 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

** Flaco = skinny man.

The first yawn appears near to twelve in the morning. You've been working for the last six hours with the motorbikes of the crew, after deciding that it was a good time to go over the bodies. Covering your mouth with a hand, making a bad move, you cut the back of the other. A slight scream goes out of your lips. Seeing how the blood begins to sprout, you jump from the floor to take a cloth to wrap it. It's not a deep one, but goes all over the back of your hand and it stings too much. You're not the kind of girl who has a low pain threshold, but you've been feeling weak these last few days and sounds like someone has cursed you.

Walking through the yard, with the work jumpsuit knotted to your waist, you notice that your shirt is stained with your own blood and seems more exaggerated than it really is, just because you shook your hand as a reflex act.

“AYE! The bloody hell, kid?!” Chibs is the first one who practically jumps off of his chair, leaving the cards on the table, to take your arm between his fingers. You release the cloth to show him with a smile forced on your lips.

“You ok?” Happy is worried too, placing his body behind yours, looking over your shoulder. He's not surprised, not as Juice, who has a look of horror in his face. Unbelievable he's a Son' and all the thing he has done.

“Not sure if I should gotta' the hospital. It's not... deep, not even painful, but the body of the bike was covered in grass and oil”. You raise your gaze to the president with a soft shrug.

“Ya' shoul', kid”. He nods after some seconds looking thoughtful.

“Got you, love”. A tattooed arm surrounds your abdomen, pushing you to follow him in his way to the parking on the front yard. “How you did it, uh? What were you thinking about that distracted you?”

Happy looks at you intrigued. He knows you well, he knows how concentrated you are when you're taking care of their motorbikes, but you don't have a correct answer for him. The man clicks his tongue, leaving some hidden caresses on your belly now that you two are so close. And with the hand you placed before on his shoulder, you give him some tickles, with one of your nails trailing the skin of his neck. He pulls himself away abruptly from you, with a shy smile on his face, rubbing the area where your finger was.

It happened seven months ago. You were drunk and you lost a bet against him. One thing led to another, and you began to be friends with benefits, with the difference that you don't fuck with other people. You never talked about it, but seemed like Happy was satisfied with you, and you with him. Even if Chibs told you it was fine, you're not the kind who mixes business and pleasure; but sometimes, you like play soft games like this one. Happy is not someone dearly, and you're sure that you are the closest thing to having a girlfriend for him, but he tries to make you feel comfortable all the time.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

You don't know what's going on, but the emergencies are almost collapsed, so seems like you're gonna have to wait. Another yawn forces your mouth, shaking your head hoping this helps you to stay awake. Happy has an arm on the back of your seat, turning slightly with a raised eyebrow. Now he knows what happened, making him snort looking away. Last night you were talking until very late with Tig and probably you didn't sleep much longer than three hours.

He's not jealous. But he is. But he's not gonna tell you. But you feel it. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's annoying. You come closer with the intention of giving him a kiss on his cheek, next to his lips, before he pushes his face away under a deathly silence that is going to give you some problems today. You try again, and again, till you notice how he's hiding a smile.

“I could do it all the fuckin' day, until you kiss me”. You say proudly, and he already knows it. “Kiss me”. You demand in a whisper with pursed lips, and his eyes challenging you. Your fist goes straight to his shoulder, making him rub it with a mock wince on his face. “Kiss me, you fuckin' jerk!”

“You're so aggressive. You should work on that”. He finally says, making you frown.

“‘YOU’ are calling me aggressive? Seriously?”

Lying his back on the chair, he nods very sure about his words. Fortunately or unfortunately, when he's about to kiss you, with his lips so desperately close to yours, your name sounds through the megaphone. It's been thirty minutes since you came and probably your hand is gonna fall into pieces, if they don't clean it quickly.

Crossing the hallway, you go to the indicated query, having a seat on the hospital gurney unwrapping your hand to show the wound. The nurse moves a small side table, having a look before healing you.

“What happened?” Shanon asks wetting a cotton with alcohol.

“I was working in the workshop, with the bikes”. You say, while your friend shakes his head starting to clean it. “It was with one of the bodies”.

“You're coming to the dinner, tonight?” She inquiries, while Happy is on the opposite corner against the wall.

“Yea'course!”

Wednesday is for girls, because Thursday is your free day. You and your crew meet at Shannon house to have some dinner together, before go to drink some beers in Charming. Usually, you end at Happy's house.

Five minutes later, your hand is covered by a bandage. The nurse gives you a prescription for some analgesics in case you continue feeling pain on it. With a kiss on her cheek, you head out having a look at your hand, moving your fingers for a second. Happy walks by your side, opening you every door on your way, to avoid you have to do unnecessary efforts.

“You wanna me 'ride you home?” He asks, helping you with the helmet.

“Club, please. I've to talk with Chibs”.

He nods. Man of few words. Sometimes it's maddening. But you take advantage of a traffic light a red, tightening your arms a little more on his waist, to kiss his nape dearly. He tries to avoid it pulling away as he can, making you laugh.

“Stop, I'm pissed off”.

“Why? 'Cause I was talking with Tig? He called me, why didn't you?”

He doesn't answers, rolling your eyes with a heavy snort. Dealing with Happy is fucking hard sometimes. He's not the kind of man that talks a lot, mostly in silence listening and judging. And you like it, but just sometimes. And of course, not in a moment like this one.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

“Ya' good, kid?” Chibs walks towards you, hitting softly your forehead with the palm of his hand. “What 'da docta' said?”

“That I should rest the hand today and tomorrow. But I finished your motorbikes, so it's practically like I'm enjoying my free days”.

“If Friday ya' don' feel rai', stay at home. Or come to see us. Three days without ya' is pretty much”. He nods, putting an arm on your shoulders in a warm hug.

“Wanna whisky, ah?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Hey, what happened”. Tig goes out of the main hallway, walking next to you to take your hand carefully.

“Just a cut”. You shrugs, even if he looks worried.

“Yea', if she had slept more hours, she wouldn' have been distracted”. Happy says, 'cause of course he can't keep his mouth closed as always.

“I'm not talking to you”. He replies with a frown.

“But she's my girl and it's your fault, shithead”.

“What?” You're not sure if your asking for the first thing that he just said, or about the second one.

“And why it's my fault, genius?”

“'Cause she couldn' sleep enough, listening your cocky problems about which legs you should open, 'cause hers are closed”. Happy is sitting calm on a chair, raising his feet and supporting them on the table.

“Ya' know? I'm gonna fuck you up, man!” Tig is angry, looking that the poisoned dart of the other has hit him right where he wanted.

“C'mon! 'Am fuckin' wishing kick your ass!”

Two deer fighting, horns against horns, in a time of constant mating. This is what it looks like, when you have to push them away from the other.

“You're not gonna fuck her! Put those words in your fuckin' damaged brain!” Happy is truly screwed, pointing him with a finger.

“Gentlemen, stop!” Chibs yells sharply, before taking a deep breath. “(Y/N), have Happy and get him the fuc' outta my clubhouse”.

You obey, with your hands on his chest to pull him out. But you know he's not gonna talk to you. Not after you didn't say anything to Tig, feeling like you're defending him. He's walking fast to his motorbike, but so are you, grabbing his forearm to make him stop his footsteps.

“Hey! What has come?”

Happy is staring at you with an impassive grimace on his face.

“What was that I'm your girl?”

“Aren' you?” He asks curious waiting for an answer.

“No, 'cause you didn't tag me”.

“And I'm not gonna do it. It's not necessary. Everyone knows what's between us”.

“Tig does, the bitches around the Sons' don't”. You weren't going to say it, but you couldn't help, spitting it out at last.

The man rolls his eyes taking the helmet of the top of his motorbike. You push his shoulder, calling his attention again.

“Say it!” You shout at him, really upset with the situation, hoping that he finally makes it real.

But there are no words coming out of his mouth, starting the bike before leaving you there alone. You bit your cheek inside, assuming it's over. And hurts. It hurts a lot actually.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

For the first time in years, you're missing the girls night. You're not in a good mood for drink with them, preferring to lie down on the sofa with some tv show that you aren't paying attention to and a big bowl of ice cream resting on your belly.

It's not that difficult, and you don't know why the hell he doesn't say ‘yes, you're my girlfriend’. You feel jealous too, with all these women walking towards the club almost naked, but you have never said anything, drowning your feelings until you couldn't help it anymore. Is he afraid of something? Or, does it mean he only says what you wanna listen to take you to bed?

Some knocks on the front door have your attention, leaving a sigh hoping that it's not a workshop emergency. Leaving the bowl on the table, you go barefoot to the entry, opening it. Happy is there, staring at you.

“Not today, Satan”. You roll your eyes, with the intention of closing the door on his nose, 'cause you're not going to listen the bullshit he has to say.

“I gotta go some days”. He says hoarsely. “Stockton need us. I came to say goodbye”.

Yes, he always does. He drives to your house, gives you a kiss and asks you if you're gonna wait for him, even if he knows that you're going to.

“Enjoy the ride”.

“You're fuckin' annoying, you know?”

“Yes, it's a god's gift”.

“Why is so important to you that I tag you as my ‘girlfriend’?

“If you have to ask, then you don' get it, Happy. And the only reason why are you so jealous of Tig, is because you're fuckin' possessive. Not because of you care about me”.

“You know what I feel for you, don' play fool”.

“No, I'm not. And I'm tired of being your ‘maybe yes, maybe not’, flaco. So it's over. Enjoy your ride”.

You close the door without giving him the chance to reply, holding your tears inside your eyes until you hear the roar of his motorbike.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

One week has passed. He called you and texted you every day, but you didn't reply. So, when you find him at six am at the door of the workshop, it doesn't surprise you. Keeping the headphones in your pocket and throwing away the cigar, you unlocked the big door of the garage, pressing the button of the remote control. And yes, you're ignoring him, but he's waiting to go in the workshop to talk.

Leaving your bag on the main desk, giving him your back, you hear how the metal shutter goes down again. You snort shaking your head for a second, turning on the laptop to check what's on your day.

“You're gonna give me the treatment silent?”

“I have work to attend, Happy. If your bike doesn't need anything, leave”.

“You don' have nothing to do till seven. I asked Matt”. He catches your lie. “We need to talk”.

“No, we don't”. Turning at him, you rest your waist against the desk cross-armed. “I told you what was tormenting me, and you shit in”.

“You wanna hear it? Fine. You're my girlfriend”.

“No, I'm not, Happy. I was”. You sentence. “In past”.

“You are. In present. And you will. In future”. He adds walking towards you. And, even if he looks calmed, he's fucking pissed off. “And I care 'bout you, not only 'bout your pussy”.

“And when did you realize that? After one week practically ignoring your bullshit?” You join to shorten the distance between both, facing him.

He doesn't say anything keeping your gaze.

“You're like a fuckin' mime five years old”. You joke on him in a bad mood. “When you get bored of a toy, you pull it away. And when someone takes the toy, you get furious 'cause you don' have the balls to fight for it”.

“I'm here”. He says, pretending that it's enough for you, pointing his chest with both hands.

“Yea' like a fuckin' statue”.

Losing his mind, he takes off the heavy gold ring out of his finger, putting it in your forefinger 'cause is the only one where fits in without falling off.

“Everybody knows that it's mine. You got it. 'See what it means?”

“I see what it means for the world, but not for me”. You're pushing him into the limits of his patience, till you got what you really want. “Who hurt you so bad that you're not capable of saying ‘I love you’ when you love someone? I'm not asking you to say it all the fucking time, I'm good making it real by just one damn time”.

“These are only words. And I think I've shown you in the last few months”.

“Fuck off, Happy”. You say tired of the talk that is not going to anywhere, taking off the ring and pressing it against his chest.

But before you can continue with your task, he puts his hands around your body pushing you against him. His furious mouth finds yours in a kiss full of anger, guiding you to the nearest table. And even if you want to pull him away, you can't. You missed Happy and you're fucking weak. The ring falls on the floor when you place your hands on his head.

“You're like a fuckin' nightmare”. He groans turning you, to stick your back to his chest, before pull down your jeans as he does with his. “But I fuckin' love you”.

Those words sounds like a sweet melody dancing in your ears, being interrupted when he thrusts his cock inside you making you moan needy. One of his hands travel to your hair, getting tangled in it to tie you arching your back, while he uses the other to stimulate your clit. You don't have much time, but the enough one for an angry quickly to mark his territory again, in case you forgot it.

“Shit, love... You're so fuckin' wet and so fuckin' hot”. He gasps hoarsely in your ear, with your hands clinging on his nape. “'You missed me, uh? 'You missed your flaco?”

“Fuck... 'course I did”. You say with your eyes closed.

With his free hand, he pushes your back on the table making you lie on. Pounding you hard, listening the dry sound that his abdomen produces against your buttocks, he clings his fingers on your hips. You're so close and he knows it when your legs start to tremble.

Happy holds your throat with a hand, getting you up putting your back against his chest, moving faster and deeper, with the free arm around your body.

“Fuck... don' stop... don' stop”. You beg as he loves hearing you.

“Cum for me, love”. He demands you, biting your shoulder and leaving a slight trail of saliva in the mark he's making.

And he doesn't need to ask twice. Crying out his name, without mattering if someone hears you, the orgasm shakes every inch of your body making it burn. But Happy doesn't stop till he fills you completely with a growl full of desire drowned in your neck.

You rest your arms on the edge of the table, with his forehead against your nape and his warm breath bristling your skin, taking a break in which you both recover. He pulls himself away of you, making you moan one last time, to take a rag and clean all the mess. But you're gonna take a shower anyway. Getting dressed again, Happy picks up the ring from the ground, putting it back in your forefinger.

“You're fuckin' beautiful after bein' fucked by me”. He says proudly, leaving a kiss on your cheek with one of his hands in the other. You hold it, closing your eyes for a second, drawing a smile on your face. “Only ‘your flaco’, love”.

You lick your lips nodding, seeing how he presses the button to raise the metal shutter again.

“Good luck working with those shaky legs”.

“You fuckin' disgrace...” You chuckle crossing your arms on your chest.

“Yea', but you love me”. He shrugs with no gesture on his face, as always like a statue, walking away from the workshop.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy x reader #happy lowman #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman imagine

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