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moonjella · 1 year

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MASQUERADE — 00 LINE

pairing || 00 line x fem!reader

synopsis || it's your first halloween at this prestigious school and with it is your first annual halloween masquerade. it's elegance and classiness mixed with the spirits of the young and drunk — a party like no other. but there is one rule : do not remove your mask. easy enough in theory, but in practise you find yourself to be the only prey in a room full of predators.

content || mature, minors do not interact! alcohol consumption. explicit smut — gangbang, unprotected sex, pulling out, cumming inside, cunningulus, fingering, blowjob, doggy style, riding, double penetration (spitroasting), anal play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, petplay, petnames, degradation and praise, dom/sub dynamics.

word count || 6.9k

author's note || for @underworldnet’s halloween event — day eight : costume.

“A bunny?” you scoff. “Really?”

“It was the only thing left in your size.” Shotaro explains. And in all honesty, it looks like the dress is two times smaller than anything you’ve worn before.

“I’m sure the fancy dress store would have had something better.”

“And I’m sure you know that this isn’t a party for five–year–olds. This isn’t fancy dress, it’s fancy dress. As a member of the committee, I can’t allow you into the party with me if you don’t follow the rules.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” you snatch the dress from his hands and throw it onto the bed. But you pick up the glamorous mask from the box he’d opened for you. This, at least, was something to admire.

A bunny mask, white with gems and lace dotted delicately across it with two white feathers poking from the top to act as ears.

“Come on,” he whines. “You promised you’d come this year.”

“I know I did but now that it’s a few hours away, I’m beginning to think it’s okay to break some promises.”

“You’d really break a promise with your best friend?” he gasps. It sounds like he’s only kidding when he fake sobs but it’s Shotaro and you know it means something to him deep down.

He’s your best friend, after all.

You tut and let out a quiet exhale.

“I’ll go,” you say to him. “But is there really nothing else I can wear?”

“I spent all day shopping to find your costume…” he pouts.

“Fine,” you huff. “Is there a reason I’m bunny?”

“Didn’t I tell you this year’s theme is animals?”

“I thought it was masquerade.”

“Every year is masquerade, dummie. But the theme changes every year, not many people go with the theme anyway. But I thought it would be fun for us to do it, since it’s your first time.”

“What’s your animal?” you ask him.

“I’m an otter.” He says with the biggest, dorkiest smile ever.

“An otter?”

“Yeah!” his eyes close up from how much he’s smiling and you can’t find it in yourself to question his choice further.

“This party’s a big deal, huh?” you mutter to yourself.

“I’ll pick you up at nine, ‘kay?”

You nod and wave him goodbye while he runs out of your room. You know in the few hours until the party, he’ll barely have enough time to get ready himself since he’s part of the committee.

Neither you or Shotaro were party people, but the annual Halloween masquerade is something he takes pride in — mainly because him and a bunch of his friends host it every year, but also because he loves the spooky season.

Though, you can imagine there’d be little festivities happening tonight.

With the kind of crowd at your college — a prestigious and expensive kind — the partygoers only care about drinking overpriced champagne and showing off their designer outfits.

It’s not that you never attended by your own choice. Shotaro invited you every year but last year you fell sick and the year before you were behind with assignments.

You feel worried, in a way. Sure, you’ve been to your share of parties. But this is the biggest party of the year. And your outfit seemed lame.

Tonnes of people go as bunnies, and the number of bunnies would be higher since the theme is animals. Oh well, you trust Shotaro’s choice.

You sigh as you look over the items on your bed.

The white dress, the embellished mask and a pair of white kitten heels — Shotaro knows you wouldn’t be able to handle stilettos for an entire night and you silently thank him for taking note.

You remind yourself to pay him in return for going shopping on your behalf as you get in the shower. Playing your favourite songs, you get ready with a bit of a lighter mood.

Since you’re wearing a mask, you don’t go too heavy on the eyes and instead focus on picking out the perfect shade of lipstick. And then you move onto your hair.

When you’re done, you slip into your dress, fumbling with the zipper as your arms reach around your back to pull it up. You put on your shoes and straighten yourself out in the mirror.

You look… beautiful.

White never looked so good on you.

No one in the entire campus has seen you show so much skin and you begin to tremble with bad nerves but a knock on your room door grounds you.

“You look amazing!” Shotaro looks you up and down with a huge smile.

He is donned in a brown tweed suit. His hair is slicked back and the upper half of his face is covered with a mask — rounded eyes and rounded ears and brown fur.

“Mr. Otter,” you greet him. “You’re late.”

“Only by two minutes,” he grins and picks up your mask before tying the ribbons around your head, making sure to not spoil your perfectly styled hair. “How are you feeling?”

“A little nervous, but I’m starting to feel excited.”

Although the pit of your stomach is a little wobbly, there is a thrilling sensation in your chest that outweighs it. it’s safe to say you’re not as reluctant as before now that Shotaro is here. He’s so happy to see you.

You can only imagine how excited he is for you to finally attend his party.

Maybe it’s the excitement of Shotaro escorting you, or the fact that it’s your first time going, but when you look in the mirror while he fixes your mask, you feel like a completely different person. And you like it.

Maybe just for one night, you could be someone else.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

Your hand slips into his naturally. “Yeah.”

“You remember the rule, right?”

“Don’t take off your mask.”

The party is everything you imagined it to be, and everything you didn’t imagine it to be.

You’re in awe at the sheer elegance of it.

Sure, you’ve heard many stories about it. You never attended but it was no doubt a hot topic of conversation for days afterwards and people began looking forward to next year’s party immediately.

As you stepped into the hall, it feels like a new age ballroom for modern teens.

Like the old days of high society somehow met with drunken teen spirit of the twenty–first century.

You would be lying to say you aren’t impressed when Shotaro asks you.

Staring up at the dazzling chandeliers, Shotaro’s arm slips from your hold as he hugs some random guy. You don’t recognise him because of the mask he’s wearing, but he’s all green. His suit a dark shade of emerald velvet while his mask is a few shades lighter with textured snake skin.

His smile, on the other hand, is charming and completely unalike to a snake.

They exchange chatter and you don’t pay attention to their words until Mr. Snake lays his eyes on you. His pretty smile widens to show a perfect set of teeth.

Before he can introduce himself, you’re met with a handful of girls who’ve been excited to see you since you announced to them you’d be at the party. They whisk you away and you give a sorry wave to Shotaro.

You didn’t want to leave him so early but he cheers you on with raised fists.

You’re rushed onto the dance floor but you want nothing more than to peel away from the crammed bodies. For a few moments, you blend in on the border of enjoying dancing but you’d need a few drinks to loosen up first.

You escape the grasp of sweaty bodies wrapped in expensive clothes and slip away to the side.

If the party is this hyper right now, you certainly don’t feel excited for how much louder it will get in a few hours.

But then again… tonight’s all about letting go, right?

It wouldn’t hurt to join in with the chaos for one night.

Everyone’s wearing masks and you can barely recognise who is who unless you know them personally.

There’s a hint of fun among all of this.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and a gentle shiver runs down your spine. It’s thrilling. And you feel like everyone is watching — your body grows a little to elated to what you’re used to.

Backing away from the crowd, you walk over to the punch table.

You sniff it before drinking, registering a hint of alcohol hidden among the fruity taste.

If you wanted to get completely wasted, you’d have started with the champagne on the other side of the room but you settle with some surprisingly good punch for now.

You just needed easing up a little.

And it works pretty fast. Your shoulders slowly relax and the dancefloor doesn’t seem so daunting now.

You feel a timid buzz in your body and it becomes stronger when someone joins you at the punch table.

He leans his butt against it after pouring a cup and sips it while looking you up and down.

You feel yourself burst into flames under the gaze of… a bear?

“Bunny?”

You nod.

“Nice,” he smirks. “You’re missing a tail, though.”

You roll your eyes and sip your own drink while his eyes slip down your back to your butt where he would expect to see a plush ball of white fur. You didn’t think about it until now, but your mask and ears are enough to let others know what animal you are. A missing tail isn’t a big deal.

But the way Mr. Bear looks at your body is.

It’s a new feeling; you like it, but you also don’t.

Discomfort floods your body but at the same time, you don’t want the feeling to go away. You can feel the walls of your comfort zone breaking away little by little.

You sigh at the thought. You’re doing this for Shotaro, remember?

Speaking of, you glance around the room and spot him surrounded by a group of people. Always the social butterfly. You feel proud of him in a way, but it didn’t help that you’re too awkward to speak to anybody else in the room.

Small talk has never been your expertise.

“Enjoying the party?” Mr. Bear asks.

“Sure.”

“Just sure? Not this is the best party you’ve ever been to?”

“It’s not the worst,” you shrug.

He chuckles and takes another sip of his drink.

“You look like you don’t go to many parties.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you here?”

Now, who does he think he is interrogating you for no reason, hm? His bear mask is less than intimidating, but the smirk on his face when he sees you firing up is enough to unsettle your nerves.

He’s here to piss you off on purpose.

There’s no need to give him what he wants.

Just finish your drink and go to the dance floor, maybe find Shotaro and dance with him for a bit before leaving.

“It’s rude to ignore people. It would be a shame to see a cute, little bunny get into trouble with the big, bad bear.”

He scoots over to you as he says it and he makes sure to whisper it right into your ear.

You swallow, ignoring the way his breath floats over your skin and causes goosebumps to rise. You curse the dress for not being long enough to hide how your body reacts to him.

“Big and bad, my ass,” you scoff, hiding your nervousness with an attitude. “You’re as intimidating as my little toe.”

You roll your eyes. When is this loser going to leave?

“You here with anyone?”

“What?”

“Did you come here with a date or are you alone?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious if you had an invite.”

“First of all, I was invited. And secondly, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t choose to spend my night breaking into some dumb party.”

“You sound angry,” he hisses. “Maybe you should leave if you don’t like it.”

“I would but some asshole bear keeps trying to talk to me.”

He’s silent for a moment before asking, “Who did you come with?”

Your grit your teeth. All the work the alcohol had done to relax you had failed the moment this pretentious ass came along.

“I came with Shotaro,” you tell him.

“Shotaro?” he laughs. “You gotta be kidding. Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“Why not? Is it so hard to believe?”

“A little,” he admits, clearly becoming agitated with you. “How about I call him over so you can say it to him?”

“What are you—”

“Relax, Haechan” Mr. Snake appears in true snake fashion. He attempts to rub away the tension in Mr. Bear’s shoulders. “She’s with Taro. I saw them come in together.”

The bear bites back a remark and finally shuts up.

With the snake dude is another guy — dark hair and piercing eyes. It takes you a while but you realise his mask depicts a wolf.

“You’re YN, right?” he says. “Taro talks about you a lot.”

You nod silently.

“Shit… you’re YN?” Haechan brings his fist up to cover his mouth. You don’t know why he’s so shocked but him being stunned to silence works for you.

“I’m Jeno.” Mr. Wolf holds out his hand but you don’t take it.

He retracts it slowly and you look to Mr. Snake again.

“Jaemin,” he introduces himself. “And you know Haechan already, I see.”

The four of you fall into silence. After learning their names, you can’t say you know them. You don’t recall ever having classes with any of them.

“Are you enjoying the party?” Mr. Snake slash Jaemin asks.

“It’s fine,” you say plainly. “The company, however, is not.”

Your words cut through the air between you like a knife and you can tell they’re all taken aback. You’re not sure where this fieriness has come from but it feels exhilarating. Seeing them all look at you in surprise while at the same time, their eyes travel up and down your body.

Being set on fire by three different gazes is new but addicting.

You direct your attention to tracing the shape of the pumpkin on your cup of punch while they begin chattering to one another. It’s a little awkward and you’re about to leave before you’re knocked into.

Thankfully, your white dress doesn’t get stained but the white shirt of a tux turns red with the punch.

“Aww, man, my shirt!”

You step back immediately, not wanting any of the stains on you.

“I told you to watch it,” a familiar voice whines. Renjun appears donning a fox mask while patting down YangYang with some napkins. “Oh, hey YN. You look… good.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes stick on your body before looking away.

“Th–thanks…” you mutter.

Renjun is a quiet friend, but he always goes out of his way to speak with you. You have a few classes together and you get along well. But one thing you’ve always wanted to ask him is why he hangs out with YangYang so much.

Renjun is a sweet, calm and mature guy. YangYang is nothing but trouble. He’s loud and grabs attention wherever he goes. You try not to question their friendship much but as Renjun tries to clean the stain on the latter’s suit, you really wonder how their friendship came to be.

YangYang wears a mask with a pointed nose and eyes — an eagle.

Interesting choice.

Being surrounded by them all — all of whom are taller than you — makes you feel intimidated. They share glances between themselves; it’s awkward but no one says anything.

Renjun continues to help YangYang clean himself, Haechan starts whining again and thankfully, it’s not to you. And the other two, Jeno and Jaemin, deal with both Haechan’s annoyance and YangYang’s carelessness.

While they’re distracted, you take the opportunity to slip away and scour the floor for Shotaro. He’s further away now and you don’t look forward to fighting your way through the dancefloor to get to him.

You pull your phone from your purse and send him a quick text message. He checks his phone straight away and his eyes search for you as soon as he sees it and you give him a little wave. He smiles back in acknowledgement before his attention is stolen again.

The message reads: gonna head to the private room for a bit. I’ll come back soon

You head to the said room, looking back to ensure nobody saw you slipping through the back door of the hall and down the empty corridors of the building.

When you reach the room, you close the door quietly behind you.

The lights are already turned on, albeit dim. Somebody probably forgot to switch them off, maybe Shotaro.

He showed you his “secret” room a long time ago but you never visited it frequently until recently. He used it to plan for the party while you studied sitting next to him. No one else ever came when you were alone so you assume it’s an unused room.

Shotaro told you he sometimes comes here alone when he feels stressed, and asked for you to use it freely.

You collapse onto the soft couch; the plush, velvety material drags you deeper while you take off your mask and fling it onto the coffee table.

“So much for getting out of my comfort zone.”

You scroll through your phone until you’re bored and then spend the rest of your time laying in silence staring at the decorated ceiling.

Shotaro probably won’t have much time to come see you away from the party so you decide to head back.

But as soon as you stand, you hear voices growing louder. You stop a few feet away from the door, waiting for them to pass so you can leave only for the door to your room to swing wide open.

You jolt slightly, heart racing for some reason.

“Another shirt ruined. My mom’s going to kill me.” YangYang says as he enters first but stops in his tracks right in front of you.

The others bump into him subsequently.

“YN,” the wolf — Jeno — says. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I was just leaving.” You duck to the side to make a narrow escape but a big, tall bear stands in your way.

“Not so fast, little bunny. You know this is our room, right?”

You clench your jaw. What is it with this guy and trying to cause you problems?

“I didn’t know.”

“So you just go wandering into any room you like?”

“I…, no. Shotaro brought me here. He said I can use it whenever.”

“Oh, he did now?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Now, now children. Let’s not start getting into it again.” Jaemin says.

The others step further into the room and you try to leave again but Haechan still stands in your way.

“You gonna move or what?”

“Would you look at that?” he scoffs. “Bunny’s got a bite.”

If he doesn’t stop, you might actually bite him.

He steps closer and you stand up straighter when he looks down at you. He’s only inches away; he feels… addicting.

“Don’t act so brave, little bunny. Or the big, bad bear might gobble you up whole.”

You scoff.

“Not likely. The majority of a bear’s diet consists of vegetation.”

“Bunny’s got a brain, too.” Jaemin says from the couch. Your back is facing him so you don’t see him picking up the bunny mask you left on the table and waving it to the others. “But not a big one, apparently.”

The rest of them have settled comfortably in the room and before you know it, Haechan is grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to sit with them.

“What are you doing?!”

“Can’t let you go back out there when you’ve broken the rule. The little bunny needs to be punished.”

“What rule?” you huff. “Let go of me.”

You’re more than surprised when he places you in his lap. Freezing up immediately, your eyes widen but the rest of them act like this is just a normal day.

“Did Taro forget to tell you?” Renjun asks, and then explains, “You’re not allowed to take off your mask.”

“What—”

“Be quiet. You’re annoying me.” Haechan says.

And that’s exactly why he has you in his lap, isn’t it? Being stuck here is definitely a punishment.

They begin yet another conversation, complaining about how exhausted they all are from organising the party.

“Wait, you guys are on the committee?”

“Duh.” Haechan mutters beneath you.

“We all host the party with Shotaro,” Jeno explains. “Every year.”

You take in the information slowly. Maybe you should have thought twice before dissing the party to them earlier. No wonder the man beneath you got so pressed.

Stuck in your thoughts, you fall into silence again before a tickle against your leg stirs you. Jaemin’s fingers trace little patterns into your skin. He meets your eyes briefly before giving his attention back to the others as if nothing happened.

They continue talking but you feel both Haechan and Jaemin growing closer to you.

Haechan’s breath flutters over your skin. He places his chin on your shoulder and teases you ear with his lips. Your too stunned to comprehend his whispers and Jaemin snakes his way closer to you.

The others are watching as the two slowly break down your walls and every nerve in your body is on high alert.

Jaemin’s hand travels past the hem of your dress and you gasp as Haechan’s lips finally touch your skin. He’s soft, gently breathing onto the skin of your neck before biting down.

“Ah!” you yelp.

Your body is hot while the others watch Jaemin rubbing your thighs and Haechan leaving marks all along your shoulder.

“What are you doing?” you whisper.

“Hm? Don’t you like this?”

You bite your lips. You do, but it feels so wrong to admit it.

The desperation takes over, and you nod eagerly. This punishment doesn’t seem bad at all.

“Use your words, bunny. Tell us you want it.”

“I want it.”

“What do you want?”

“You. I want all of you.”

“Fuck…” you hear Jeno chuckle behind you. “Who knew Taro’s girl was this desperate?”

“I…I’m not…”

“Don’t give us that crap,” YangYang butts in. His legs are spread wide on the couch and his arms across the back of it. “Why don’t you come over here?”

“Hey, I had her first!” Haechan whines.

“Fuck you. You’ve had her all this time. You wanna know how hard my dick is from watching?”

“Not my problem.” Haechan says and grabs you by the cheeks, slamming his lips onto yours.

Your mouth opens to his immediately, letting him inside and you feel warmth in every part of you, especially in your core. You rub your thighs together, fidgeting in his lap and ensuring you rock your ass against his hardening cock.

Jaemin is exploring you with him. His hands have snuck under your dress, cupping your ass while he attacks your neck with his lips.

His mask grazes against your jaw and his dark eyes look to you through narrow slits.

There’s something exhilarating about his face being hidden, all of theirs. Maybe it was a good thing you were the only one to break the rule.

Haechan lifts your hips and situates you exactly how he wants.

Your ass presses right onto his dick while Jaemin helps him spread your legs wide on either side of him. He drops to his knees, kissing his way up from your ankles to your inner thighs.

His lips tickle you and your core tenses.

“Mind if I take ‘em off?” He notions towards your white, lacey panties.

You nod, swallowing nervously as he peels them away. You can feel the arousal on the material when it parts from you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet…”

“Of course, she is,” Haechan kisses your neck. “She’s a slutty little bunny. Ain’t that right?”

He nudges you and you nod quickly.

One of his hands cups your breast while the other pulls your dress up, holding it against your stomach so no obstacles are left for Jaemin.

“You sure you want this?” Jaemin asks. You appreciate his sentiment but you’re too desperate for his niceties.

“Yes, please…just touch me!”

A filthy grin finds its way to his face before he dips his head and attaches his lips to your pussy.

“Ah!” you whimper.

Your back presses into Haechan as it arches and your ass grinds against his cock while you rock your hips back and forth against Jaemin’s face. He grabs your thighs, holding them tight around his neck while he licks and sucks.

He drags his teeth over your clit gently, causing you to cry out from the feeling. And then he rubs his tongue up and down, electrifying your entire body.

You feel your orgasm approaching when he shoves two fingers into your pussy with ease. You’re so fucking wet and he spreads you open while tasting your sweet essence.

Pleasure hits you, blinding your senses and your body trembles in Haechan’s embrace. You’re gasping and crying, begging for Jaemin to not stop and finally your hips stop moving.

You collapse onto Haechan and catch your breath. Upon opening your eyes, you see them all staring at you with mouths wide open.

“You sound so pretty…” Renjun mutters.

Some of them stroke their boners over their slacks, others watch quietly, waiting for the next move.

“My turn.” Haechan flips you onto the couch. Your shoulders meet the cushions while your ass bends upwards. You shuffle into a more comfortable version while Haechan rips off his belt and pulls out his cock.

He hisses when he strokes it a few times.

“God, you’re so hot…” he whispers. “Gonna fuck you so good.”

You moan into the cushions while he prods your entrance.

“Wait,” Jeno calls.

“The fuck do you want?”

You turn your head to see Mr. Wolf reaching into his pocket and making his way to you. He talks directly to you, ignoring Haechan completely.

“Now’s a good time to tell you about the little gift Shotaro bought you.”

He reveals a fluffy white ball. You’re not sure of its purpose at first until you see the rounded metal hidden beneath all the fur.

Your eyes widen in shock.

“Shotaro got me that?!”

“He pussied out last minute and gave it to me instead. But it was meant for you.”

“Why the hell would he give it to you?” Renjun asks and Jeno shrugs while the others laugh.

You swallow grimly, eyes not leaving the toy.

“How about we give our bunny a tail?” Haechan grins.

His voice is so sickeningly annoying but you can’t get enough of it.

“What do you say?”

You purse your lips in thought.

Did Taro really get you that?

What did he mean by it?

Does he… want to have sex with you? Or was it only meant to as an accessory to your costume?

You don’t have time to think about it and you brush the notions away quickly with a nod.

“Bunny wants a tail.” You whine cutely, pouting your lips as you look up at him.

You hear one of them groan and Haechan grabs handfuls of your ass, spreading your cheeks and spitting between them. His fingers rub gently, spreading his spit.

Meanwhile, Jeno bends down to your level.

“Open wide.”

You part your lips and stick out your tongue, letting the saliva dribble. He rubs the metal part of the ball up and down, coating it in saliva before ordering you to suck on it. Whispers of curses fill the room as you make the most needy face you can while sucking on the toy.

“Good girl,” Jeno strokes your hair, tickling your scalp with his fingers.

The plug pops from your mouth Haechan holds you open while Jeno slips it in your ass.

“Relax, baby,” he rubs your body to ease. “There we go. Almost there.”

He teases it in and out of your hole until you’re ready to take it fully and then he pushes it in. You whine from the sensation but the feeling of being filled is incredible. You shake your ass teasingly and both of them grab it, leaving a red mark from a slap.

Haechan wastes no time in fucking you. He pushes into your pussy, guiding your hips onto him with eagerness. His cock spreads you open and he stutters vocally.

“Ah, you’re so fucking tight…”

You whine in response and push your hips back and forth with him, allowing him to dive in deeper. Your walls wrap around him and he stills for a moment when he’s fully situated.

“Fuck, Haechan!” you cry. “Feels so good.”

“Baby, I’m not even doing anything.” He chuckles and the others laugh with him. “You’re such a little bunnywhore, ain’t ya? So desperate for my cock.”

“Yes!” you cry out. “Please, Haechan, want you to fuck me so good.”

“What was that? I don’t think the others heard you.”

“Please! Fuck me real good, Haechan. Wanna be fucked like a little whore!”

He drags his cock out slowly before slamming back in.

“What a slutty little bunny.”

You moan into the cushions, not caring if they become covered with your drool and makeup. You can only feel Haechan’s cock driving in and out of you and the heated gaze of everyone else on the two of your bodies.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum already.” Haechan says and you clench around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He thrusts a few more times before pulling out and jerking his cock over your ass. His hot cum hits you in spurts and you wiggle your hips side to side while he groans and empties his load on you.

“Fucking perfect…” he whispers and falls onto the couch.

“Who’s next?” Jeno asks.

You rise up on trembling arms and all of them are silent, but expectant. You crawl over to the one closest to you, Renjun.

He seems nervous, swallowing loudly when you touch him.

“Renjun…?”

“You… you don’t have to YN.”

“But I want to.”

You kiss his ears, his neck, his lips. Your hands sneak under his blazer and trace his hard body over his shirt. He nods shyly.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask softly.

“You…” he gasps and throws his head back when you squeeze his cock. “Your mouth. Use your mouth.”

You fall to the floor immediately, held warmly between his legs and he helps you remove his cock from his boxers and pants.

You stroke him gently, feeling him harden even more.

An experimental lick swipes its way up his cock and you eye him, watching him unravel from the warmth of your tongue. When you reach the tip, you take him past your lips. Little by little, teasing him and admiring the way his chest rises and falls rapidly.

You make sure to stick out your ass for the others while you suck Renjun’s cock and in no time, his cock hits the back of your throat from his hips thrusting up.

“God, YN!” he moans.

You suck tighter, bob your head faster and when you see his fists tightening by his side, you remove him from your mouth completely.

“Ah!” he gasps loudly. He reaches for his cock to reach his high but you hold them back. “YN, please!”

“Don’t you want to cum inside your little bunny?” you whisper.

He stares at you, mesmerised.

“Renjunnie… cum inside me… please?””

He nods gently.

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

You bite your lips, telling him that it’s more than fine. You want nothing more than to be filled up with him, with all of them.

To your side, YangYang has his cock out, stroking it up and down while his head rests on the back of the couch watching you. Haechan is still blissed out but watching intensely and the other two sit quietly, waiting for you to finish with their friend.

You climb onto his lap, a thigh on either side and press your lips to his while sinking down in his cock. He moans into your mouth and you mix them with your own. He holds you nervously, unsure where to touch you as you rock back and forth on his cock.

His fingers dig into your side and you reach a hand between your bodies, meeting with your needy clit. You rub circles, causing you to clench around his cock and the feeling of his cum spurting into you tosses you over the edge.

You bounce quickly, not wanting to slow down the orgasm anymore and allow yourself to be taken over with another. All the while, Renjun moans and moans until he’s fully spent inside of you.

You feel your ass clenching around the tail and you feel so full being stuffed again and again.

Renjun is on the border of passing out and you jump from him.

YangYang reaches his arm out to grab you but you find it entertaining to tease him and you slip from his grasp, making your way to Jaemin and Jeno.

“Hey, bunny,” Jeno smiles.

You smile sweetly, wobbling on your weak legs and he pulls you into his lap.

“How about we take her together?” he asks Jaemin.

“Sounds good to me.”

He lifts you with ease and lays you gently on the couch they were sitting on. He gives your tail a little tug, causing you to yelp but you all giggle together after.

“Has anyone ever told you how cute you are tonight?” Jaemins strokes your cheeks.

You shake your head, melting into his touch.

“Hm, we could tell her,” Jeno suggests. “Or we could show her.”

You whine, feeling your pussy flutter with excitement as if it hadn’t already had enough.

“I think she wants us to show her.” Jaemin smiles and you feel yourself drift to cloud nine when they both look down at you between them.

Jeno places himself between your legs, pressing a long kiss to your ankles before placing them on his shoulder. Jaemin, on the other hand, unbuckles his belt and pulls out his cock. He lets it hang freely, waiting for you to grab it.

A groan escapes him and his knees tremble when you begin stroking. You pull him closer, letting your tongue taste his precum.

“Ah! Fuck, bunny. You’re such a good girl.”

You squeal when you feel Jeno pressing his cock into your sopping hole. Your pussy flutters around him as he pushes his way in. You’re so overwhelmed yet you keep wanting more.

You take all of Jaemin into your mouth, moving your head as much as you could in this position and Jeno thrusts deeper, slow and hard.

You moan around Jaemin’s cock, vibrations running through his body and when he can’t take it anymore, he grabs a handful of your hair before thrusting into your mouth.

His cock hits the back of your throat, bringing tears to your eyes but you blink them away, not wanting to distort the image of the two men using you like their personal fleshtoy.

Fuck, you feel so hot.

Your core is so tense and you can feel every ridge of Jeno’s cock in your pussy. He slams harder, faster, pace picking up and rhythm growing messy. He’s close.

“Fuck!” you mumble around Jaemin’s cock.

They both groan, griping onto anything they can and you’re about to cum all over Jeno’s cock when he pulls out. You whine but he uses his fist to empty his load all over your pussy.

Your muscles twitch endlessly and Jaemin pulls out of your mouth only to push Jeno out of the way and replace him inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re so dirty,” he groans. “But so fucking cute.”

He thrusts into you and you let your entire body relax in his hold. His arms wrap around your waist and he kisses the exposed skin of your chest and neck, using his hands to grope your tits.

Your walls flutter around him and you feel the sting of pleasure once again.

“Harder!” you cry.

He heeds your demand and fucks you relentlessly, letting his cum spill freely in your pussy.

“Oh my god!”

You cum together and everyone groans with you. Your head digs into the couch and your hips rise up to meet Jaemin’s until he holds you both still together, brushing your hair away from your sweaty face.

He shushes you and guides your breathing until you’ve come down from your high once more.

Then he takes your hand and lifts you into an upright position, placing a gentle kiss on you’re forehead.

“Did so well, bunny. You okay?” he asks gently.

You nod, slowly and completely exhausted.

Everyone has collapsed onto their backs, letting the couches swallow them whole.

It must have been quite the show.

For all but one.

“Got one more for me?” YangYang smirks.

You crawl over to him, collapsing on his lap with your thighs on either side. His cock is already out and he’s lining it up with your entrance immediately.

He leaves a small kiss in the crook of your neck before sinking you down on his cock.

You rest your head on his shoulder while he lifts your hips up and down on his lap.

“Oh, my god!” he groans. “Waited so fucking long but it was worth it.”

You don’t register how fast he’s slamming you on his cock, nor how hard his fingers dig into your flesh but you use whatever energy still existing in your body to move your thighs.

“That’s right, bunny. Show me how good you can bounce.”

His words spur you on and the raspiness in his voice elates your heartbeat despite it being impossible to beat any faster.

You feel yourself clench one more time and you spill all of your juices onto him. It’s too much, you can’t hold anything back despite having nothing left to give.

“Fuck, she’s squirting!”

YangYang lifts his hips up when he brings you down on him and you feel him reaching even deeper.

“Ah!” you cry. “Too much!”

“Finally had enough?” he growls into your ear.

You nod desperately.

“Can’t take my cock anymore?”

“It’s too good!”

“Fuck, do you want me to stop or not?”

“No! Don’t stop! Please, don’t stop!”

YangYang thrusts harder and he bites into your shoulder. You’re amazed at how your dress was able to stay on this whole time but it slips down further and further, not exposing your chest fully but showing just enough of your tits to drive them all crazy.

One look at them bouncing is enough make YangYang lose all of his control.

“Ah! I’m cumming!” you cry, letting one more, and hopefully the last, orgasm wash over you.

“Fuck! Me too!”

His hips tremor when he pushes himself balls deep in you. They remain flush against your pussy until you feel his cum stop pouring out.

And when he pulls out, his cum drips out of your pussy and back onto his softening cock.

They all groan as you fall to the side, spreading your legs to show them how all of their cum decorates your body.

You’re so fucking messy, sweaty and covered in cum but you don’t care.

All of you sit quietly for a while, not a word spared between you until you’ve caught your breath and attempt to sit upright.

Jaemin and YangYang aid you and help you stand on wobbling legs.

“Are you okay?”

“I think so…” you gasp as you feel the cum dribble down your legs.

“That was fucking amazing…” Haechan says.

And the others agree with him. Renjun just hums in his blissed out state while YangYang strokes your thighs from behind.

“You were amazing. How did you even handle all of that?”

“Because she’s such a good bunny.” Jeno teased but leaves a sweet kiss on your cheek, and Jaemin beings you some tissues and helps you start wiping yourself.

Only now do they remove their masks and it feels refreshing to finally see their handsome faces.

Your entire body trembles gently while they take care of you, making sure to compliment you at any second they get. But a loud click catches everyone’s attention and your body jolts when the door opens.

Terrified of being caught, you grab onto Jaemin and pull him in front of you, but you freeze upon seeing who entered the room.

“Shotaro…” you gasp and pull down your dress as if it would hide the fact that you just fucked all of his friends.

“YN?”

He looks somewhat disheartened as he walks deeper into the room. Music still beats through the walls and your heart hammers with it.

As he gets closer, you see his eyes swim with emotion. And to your surprise, his entire demeanour changes from his usual softness to something dark and dominating. You’ve never seen him like this before but the numbness in your body slowly fades, replacing itself with excitement.

The room is silent as he guides your chin upwards to look him in the eyes.

His warm fingers caress your cheeks and as he stares deep into your soul, his hands slide down to your hips, pulling you so close to him that you can’t escape.

“Looks like someone’s been a bad bunny.”

#✧ jella writes #✧ jella's fics #nct x reader #nct 00 line smut #nct smut #haechan x reader #nct jaemin x reader #nct jeno x reader #nct renjun x reader #yangyang x reader #shotaro x reader #haechan smut #nct jaemin smut #jeno smut #renjun smut #yangyang smut #underworldnet halloween writing event

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khaire-traveler · 4 months

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The Nine Muses

This is a very simple post about the Muses in hopes of explaining who they are, what their domains are, and some things they may be able to help with. This post isn't a deep dive by any means - just a simple introduction. Enjoy!

Who are the Muses?

The Muses, or Mousai, are goddesses of inspiration for various creative, scientific, and poetic endeavors. They were believed to also have knowledge of all things that have come to pass, remembering events with clarity that mortals could not hope to have. Their names are Kalliope, Kleio, Ourania, Thaleia, Melpomene, Polymnia, Erato, Euterpe, and Terpsikhore.

In total, there are nine Muses. The god Apollon was often believed to be the leader of the Muses, having a very close connection with them. The goddess Artemis was also paired with them.

Their origin and family varied depending on the source, but the most common notion was that Zeus and Mnemosyne are their parents and that they were born at the foot of Mount Olympus. Some other possible parents are Ouranos and Gaia, Zeus and Plousia, Pieros and Antiope, or even Apollon.

Poets of the past used to invoke the names of the Muses in hopes of gaining inspiration and the ability to gracefully convey their words. When a connection was drawn between them and Apollo, they were also known for their prophetic abilities as well, even being said to teach the art of prophecy.

What are each of their domains?

Kalliope - The eldest of the Muses, she is the goddess of eloquence and epic poetry. She is often considered the mother of Orpheus. She was depicted with a tablet, a scroll, or (later on) a lyre. Her name has been translated to mean "beautiful-voiced".

Kleio - Wise and intelligent, she is named the goddess of history. In art, she was often depicted with an open scroll or chest full of books. Her name was translated as "to make famous".

Ourania - Associated with the stars, she is the goddess of astronomy and astronomical writings. She has been depicted pointing at a celestial globe with a rod, but I wasn't able to find more information on her symbols. Her name means "heavenly one".

Thaleia - A goddess that helps bring joy to the world, she is the goddess of comedy and bucolic poetry. She was also considered to be the mother of the Korybantes (a group of seven demigods). She was often depicted with a comedy mask, a shepherd's staff, or a wreath of ivy. Her name has been translated as "festivity" or "blooming".

Melpomene - Holding a domain more somber than the Muse above, she is the goddess of tragedy. She was named the mother of the Sirens by Apollodorus. She was depicted with a tragedy mask, a sword, a wreath of ivy, or cothurnus boots. Her name likely means "to celebrate with song (and dance)".

Polymnia - With a name meaning "many hymns" or "many praises", it's no surprise that she's the goddess of religious hymns. She was often portrayed in a meditative pose.

Erato - A Muse that needs no introduction, she is the goddess of erotic poetry and mime. She was often portrayed with a lyre. Her name means "lovely" or "beloved".

Euterpe - Likely full of rhymes and reasons, she is the goddess of lyric poetry. She was often depicted with a double flute. Her name likely means "well pleasing" or "giver of much delight".

Terpsikhore - Filled with music, she is the goddess of choral song and dancing. She was often depicted with a lyre and plectrum. Her name has been translated to "delighting in dance".

Kalliope - Speaking presentations, writing essays, script reading, reading/writing informational posts/articles/etc., interpreting poetry, poetry writing/reading, sharing your own poetry, communicating clearly with others, important conversations, coping with conflicts, addressing conflicts, making peace with others.

What are some things they can help with specifically?

***These are merely suggestions.***

Kleio - History exams/tests, studying classics/history, delving into your own history, discovering family history, recalling past events, writing myth retellings or similar, identifying patterns of behavior, releasing the past, learning from the past, finding hope for the future.

Ourania - Studying the stars/space, story-telling, understanding the universe around us, memorizing constellations, finding peace in the night, finding hope in the darkness, creating goals for yourself, "reaching for the stars", holding onto your wishes, finding a sense of direction.

Thaleia - Creating your own joy, finding what makes you happy, performing stand-up comedy, writing any form of comedy, play-writing, healthy positivity, learning to laugh things off, releasing stress/burdens, moving forward, expressing your joy.

Melpomene - Coping with hardships, moving through difficult times, releasing the past, forgiving oneself, coping with past mistakes/regret, healing from difficult events, coping with the "downs" of life, play-writing, telling tragic tales, addressing difficult topics sensitively.

Polymnia - Writing devotional poetry/hymns/songs/etc., growing closer with religion/devotion, inspiration for offerings/devotional acts, coping with religious difficulties, finding comfort/joy in religion, connecting with the divine, religious/spiritual writings, connecting with your practice.

Erato - Love letters, confessing your feelings through writings/songs/etc., connecting with sexuality, writing/reading erotic stories, communicating sexual needs, establishing/discovering sexual boundaries, sex positivity (especially through literature), embracing your sexual interests.

Euterpe - Writing poetry, interpreting poetry, communicating one's emotions, romanticizing life, sharing poetry with others, devotional poetry, expressing one's feelings through writing, processing emotions, finding the "right word" for a piece you're writing.

Terpsikhore - Song-writing, learning to dance, expressing yourself through dance/song, connecting with music, processing feelings with musical aid, instrument playing, choral/instrumental performances, writing a musical, musical theater, finding your voice, embracing who you are, expressing yourself.

#the muses #mousai #helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan #muses

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balioc · 4 months

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Holiday Engineering: What Not to Do

We can learn a lot from Chanukah, because Chanukah is a garbage-tier holiday.

I mean this in a mostly-detached, mostly-analytic way. Like many people who were raised Jewish, I have some very fond and happy memories of Chanukah. Anything can accrue fond and happy memories, if you have a way of getting people to do it. But Chanukah is full of features that actively detract from its being resonant, impressive, memorable, or fun. It is an anti-advertisement for its community.

If you're a would-be designer-of-holidays, this is actually a really useful thing. Mimicking the good and successful holidays is quite hard; their quality tends to hinge on a lot of idiosyncratic hard-to-replicate factors, and "invent something as cool and punchy as the $WHATEVER" can be a tall order. But it's easy to look at a design failure and say, "I"m not going to do that."

With that, let's go into the details:

CHANUKAH: THE GOOD

Timing. It's a midwinter festival-of-lights. Solid start. Everyone loves those. Brightness and festival cheer, in the long cold winter nights, is practically a need for many. The holiday mostly skates by just on being the winter light festival for the Jews. A+. Or, really, we should knock that down to an A, because Chanukah usually comes too early to be ideal for this purpose, but -- still, quite good.

Traditional food (side dishes). Latkes are incredibly popular, and for excellent reason. If you're trying to settle on a food that everyone will love, "fried potatoes" is a damn good choice.

CHANUKAH: THE NEUTRAL

Symbols. There's really just one that matters: the chanukiyah (nine-branched menorah). Which is, on paper, a very cool and snappy symbol. Distinctive silhouette, ritual engagement, plus the allure of fire. But it loses a lot of points for the fact that you don't actually light the whole damn thing, and get the proper visual effect, until the very end of a long-ass holiday when everyone's enthusiasm and attention have ebbed. On the first night, in particular, you light just two candles in your chanukiyah, and it looks lopsided and sad.

Traditional food (sweets). Jelly donuts are fine, I guess, if uninspiring and uninspired. Chanukah gelt is pretty lame as candy goes...but from a holiday-design perspective, it's hard to go too far wrong with giving kids candy.

Music. "Maoz Tzur" is kinda pretty. "Oy Chanukah!" is kinda fun. That's pretty much it, barring some silly kids' music (and I guess that Adam Sandler thing). Nothing that will knock anyone's socks off. But, honestly, two decent songs is more than many good holidays have.

Gifts. Being the big annual gifting holiday is a double-edged sword. It's some super-powerful mojo, culturally speaking. People are obsessed with giving and receiving gifts, in a way that's very hard to excise or evade, no matter how often you trot out your utilitarian language about deadweight loss. Chanukah gets a lot of its traction out of the fact that it's the holiday where you get presents. But. (a) In the modern world, the gifting holiday is unavoidably a locus of stress and misery for many people, and Chanukah doesn't have nearly enough upside serving to support that burden. (b) Chanukah is bad at being a gifting holiday. The gifting is not well-integrated into the event, it's a tacked-on thing copied over from Christmas, and it shows. There's no real ritual surrounding it, no presents-under-the-Christmas-tree equivalent, certainly no Santa Claus. Worse yet, the eight-day-holiday thing means that either you need a set of gifts whose awesomeness is equally divisible by eight (mega-awkward), or else you have inconsistencies and disappointments.

CHANUKAH: THE BAD

Theme. What is the holiday about, when everything is said and done? What is our key takeaway message from all the shit we're doing. "God is great, God looks out for His people, God performs mighty miracles." Stop. Shut up. You fail. That's every holiday, if you're operating within a religious tradition. You need something more than that, something powerful and deep and important and special, to be even halfway-decent as a holiday. But for the vast majority of Jews (including Jews in the most orthodox and observant denominations), that's pretty much all you get. Because...

Mythology. The story of Chanukah, the holiday's narrative raison d'etre, is just unconscionably bad. In some extremely vague sense, it's a story about Jews overthrowing foreign oppressors and casting off foreign influences...which is already pretty bad from a modern liberal perspective, we don't like jingoistic ethnonationalism these days. But the actual events of the Chanukah story are less about Jews-against-foreigners than they are about Jews-against-other-Jews. It is a story about fanatics seizing power and murdering cosmopolitans. Virtually everyone hates that shit, up to and including the most tribal-minded Jews. The rabbis of the Talmud were pretty iffy about Chanukah for exactly this reason, and didn't talk about it much, with the result that the holiday doesn't have much in the way of supporting cultural infrastructure. And you really can't tell the Chanukah myth without that horrible stuff; it's so baked-in that it gets incorporated into even the most sanitized propagandistic Hebrew-school versions of the tale (with exactly the effects that you'd expect on Hebrew school students). The miracle of the oil feels like a tacked-on narrative coda, because it is, because without it the only possible moral of the story would be "kill your neighbor if he's not pious enough for you." But it's much too little, much too late. The miracle of the oil is super lame by miracle standards: no one is saved from danger, there are no memorable SFX, the whole thing is relevant only to the rituals of a long-vanished Temple.

[There are several lessons that can be learned from this particular problem, at multiple levels of abstraction.]

Structure. You can have a good eight-day holiday, but a festival of that length needs an arc. The days need to be distinct from each other. You need to be either building up to a climax, or -- more commonly, as with Passover and [the twelve days of] Christmas -- coming down from a main celebration at the beginning in a long pleasant haze of semi-special time. Chanukah is flat and internally undifferentiated, except for the addition of more candles to the chanukiyah. You can't sustain real holiday feeling that long, and there's no particular day on which you're supposed to do anything special, so it all just turns into a mush of "how much do we care right this moment?"

Activities. The traditional dreidel game is the worst, most boring, most unbalanced game in the history of games. Pushing it on children only makes those children hate Chanukah, and Judaism, and games, and you.

Traditional food (entrees). There's no classic Chanukah dish that can serve as a viable main course, unless you're one of those people who can happily eat fried potatoes as an entire meal. This is a glaring omission. It's particularly bad for Chanukah, because Chanukah has so little else going for it that it really needs to lean hard on the standard holiday "gather for a festive meal" thing.

Social role. As many people will eagerly tell you, Chanukah was a pretty minor holiday for most of Jewish history; it got big largely because of a marketing push in the 19th and 20th centuries, mostly because people got scared about the prospect of the younger generations assimilating, and wanted to give them a holiday to compete with Christmas. Which is maybe the worst idea that anyone has ever had. For more reasons that I can easily list here, modern Western Christmas is an absolute SSS-tier holiday, one of the very best of all time. Setting yourself up as a direct competitor to Christmas -- inviting your own people to make that comparison -- is tantamount to telling them that your traditions and your community are worthless and weak, and that they should join the ranks of the gentiles. And that would be true even if your own offering were something halfway decent. Trying to do it with Chanukah...it's like Estonia declaring war on the US. It's the ultimate "we have food at home." It is, if you'll pardon my saying so, Christian rock.

#holiday analysis

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rookthorne · 1 month

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧

With little else to do during the busy festive period, you made your way to Howlie’s Gym, the place you made a home away from home and where you know your best friend made your haven safe.

What you did not expect to find, however, was him in the office with the brightest smile on his face — as though you hung the moon that shone down over the two of you.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ❥ Personal Trainer!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ❥ 1.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ❥ Fluff, pining (so much of it), slight angst (self doubt) ჻჻჻ TROPES: Best friends to lovers

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ❥ Do you see that trope? 👀 ❥ A very special thank you to my discord server and the poll I made for helping me decide on the new additions to this AU. 🥰

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ❥ Someone To You by BANNER

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ❥ @sweetspicybingo Sweetheart Bingo — Cloud Nine — Masterlist ❥ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Flurries of snow danced in your vision as they fell to the pavement ahead of where you were walking, your gym bag over your shoulder and a warm, winter coat bundled around your torso to protect you from the cold.

The headphones tucked over your ears doubled as muffs to keep the chill away, as well as playing tunes to block out the sounds of the world as you made your way to Howlie’s Gym, your home away from home.

It was close to Christmas — only a couple more days left before the big day would arrive, whether you liked it or not.

The holidays, while festive and sweet, tended to be on the lonelier side of the spectrum. There was no one for you to spend the day with; not the way you so badly yearned for — of which felt unobtainable. As far away as the stars twinkling in the sky above you, winking and dancing with the snow that fell.

Thoughts swirled and sent a pang of pain through your heart the closer you came to the lit-up gym.

You longed for the one man you had grown close with, the trainer that had dedicated all of his spare time to your regimes, and the very same one that seemed to care beyond all others about your wellbeing.

Over the short time you had gotten to know Bucky, you had grown inexplicably close with the brunette. It was overwhelming to reminisce on what he said during one of the last sessions — the words echoed in your mind when the front door of the gym came into view: “You are one hell of a woman, and I’ll be damned if I see you putting yourself down anymore.”

Never before had someone been so deeply invested in you, and you could only hope that it meant something; perhaps a Christmas miracle was around the corner.

The song changed just as you reached the doors, and you pushed them open with a flourish as you danced on the spot. Not a single soul was in sight and that itself was such a rare occurrence, you couldn’t help but grin happily — a peaceful workout without any gym rats or try-hards ruining your vibe and concentration.

You hummed, singing along to the song as the lyrics picked up tempo. “I wanna be somebody to someone, someone to you–”

“Bubba?”

“Ah!” A muffled squeak caught in your throat, and you whirled around, looking for the source of the voice that had been so close, and who you could have sworn was Bucky himself. “Oh– Oh, hi,” you said as you found the culprit.

Bucky smiled broadly from the office doorway. “Hey, you,” he said softly. “What’re you doing here–? It’s Christmas, isn’t it?”

The gym bag over your shoulder rustled as you shook it. “Well, I don’t have anything else to do, I guess.”

“So you decided to come and keep me company, huh?” he teased, walking towards you. The grey, long-sleeve compression shirt he was wearing did nothing to hide his physique, and his loose hair fell down to his shoulders. Even the navy sweats he wore hugged his body, his thighs impressively stretching the fabric well beyond what was reasonable.

It was either that, or he purposefully decided to wear smaller sized clothes, you reasoned — not that you were complaining, not in the slightest.

“Doll?”

You startled and blinked. “What? Oh! Uh–” Smooth going, you inwardly chastised yourself.

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “You dork—c’mon, I can help you set up.”

“Right,” you said, nodding once. “Thanks.”

The two of you made your way over to the first piece of equipment in your regime, and Bucky kindly set it up for you, his tongue between his teeth as he put the correct weights on the bar.

“So what are you doing all on your own?” you asked, placing your bag down on a weight bench. Bucky glanced at you, then concentrated back on the equipment. “I mean—like, I thought Howlie’s was closed so close to the holidays, I had to search and make sure you guys were actually open.”

“Like you,” he grunted as he lifted the last weight, and the muscles of his forearms tensed while he manipulated it into place. “I also don’t have anythin’ else to do, so I figured, why not?” He shrugged and stepped back from the equipment, a small smile on his lips. “Can’t hurt to catch up on paperwork or get a head start on the shit for next year.”

“Fair, fair,” you replied. A flood of courage began to flow, and you squared your shoulders — intent on at least trying. “I, uh– Do you want to, um–”

“Do I wanna ‘hang’ with you?” Bucky offered; a brow raised inquisitively. A cheeky smirk pulled the corner of his lips up. “Is that what you’re askin’?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, and you scratched the back of your neck. It suddenly seemed foolish to have spoken up, and the courage soured to shame faster than the blink of an eye. “I mean, you don’t have to– You know what, never mind, I know you have more important–”

“Shut up, Bubba,” Bucky laughed, and you gaped at him, which made him laugh harder. “You’re fuckin’ adorable—‘course I’ll hang with my girl. Just let me finish what I was doing and I’m all yours.”

He walked off, a pep in his step, and you were left there floundering and completely dumbfounded by his choice of words.

“My girl,” he said — surely you imagined that? “I’m all yours,” he promised — you had to be dreaming.

Before you could shake yourself from your reverie, Bucky was already walking back towards you, and he tilted his head; eyes filled with sudden concern. “Doll? You alright–? What’s wrong? You seem out of it tonight.”

“N–Nothing,” you rushed. “I just–” You could not help the falter in your voice when Bucky stepped closer, his face suddenly so damned close to yours.

“Talk to me, Bubba—you’re worrying me, if I’m bein’ honest. What’s up?”

His concern warmed your heart, but you couldn’t help but feel the urge to tilt your head and meet his lips in a kiss.

You pushed that urge down as far as you could, determined to ignore it and force the heat crawling up your neck to stop, too. “Nothing’s wrong, I promise, Buck—I swear. It’s just Christmas… it’s a strange time of year for me, I’m– Well, I’m alone.”

A slight frown pulled the corner of his lips down, and you found you couldn’t stand it.

“I–”

“No, no, I understand,” Bucky said softly. “Me too.”

“Really?” you blurted before you could stop yourself. “I mean, you?”

“Yes, me.” There was a slight tremor to his voice. “Well, I have my boys—and girl, but–” At your widened eyes, he quickly amended with, “My dogs, I mean. I have a couple of dogs, who are currently lazing around back home.”

“Oh! Oh my– Can I see a photo?” you rushed, giddy with excitement. “I love dogs!”

Bucky grinned and pulled his phone from his pocket, the screen alight with a photo of three dogs, side by side. They were huge, but all smiles for the camera — you suspected there were treats offered for that kind of brightness in their faces.

You could immediately tell that one was a Golden Retriever, the creamy coat a dead giveaway, and the largest of the three was a black and white Great Dane. The third dog, however, you couldn’t place, but they were just as cute with a reddish-brown coat of short fur.

“They’re so fluffing adorable, Buck,” you gushed.

He put his phone back into his pocket, mumbling, “Thanks—they’re great running buddies, when they want to fuckin’ behave, that is.”

Somehow, the mention of Bucky’s companions back home soothed the nerves in you, and the two of you comfortably started your sets, content to complete a few reps in silence — bar your grunts and groans of effort, while Bucky was as silent as a mouse. Damn him, you thought.

After several reps, you grunted loudly and placed the weights back on the bar, panting for air. “How the fuck do you stay so quiet?” you demanded of Bucky, staring at him while he sat up on the bench.

There was an arrogant, charming smile on his lips. “Practice, doll. You’ll get there.”

Silence followed his proclamation, and you slumped back against the equipment.

The endorphins from the workout coursed through you, and that same sense of courage surged like a fire, burning through your reservations and inhibitions faster than a match to gunpowder — too many pirate movies, you thought privately.

“Bucky,” you said tentatively, and you licked your lips, tasting the sweat from your workout. “I want to ask you something…”

“Oh?” He shuffled up the bench to sit closer to you. His elbows rested on his knees, and his arms hung between his thighs; you couldn’t help but greedily drink in the sight of the stray strands of hair plastered to his forehead from his own workout. “Lemme guess, does it have something to do with Christmas?”

“Not exactly.”

“Okay,” he said, and he looked at you expectantly. The tip of his tongue ran over his lips. “What is it?”

The words lodged in your throat, and your mouth worked uselessly to free them, but it didn’t work. You let out a groan of frustration. “I– God, why is this so hard?”

Something flashed in Bucky’s bright eyes, the blue of them deepening to an ocean hue. “I happen to be very good at reading people, sweetheart,” he said, and you froze — a deer in headlights as you stared at him. “And if I’m wrong, feel free to put an end to whatever we have, but–” He cleared his throat and fidgeted a little.

A beat of silence passed where you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“But I can’t help but feel something, between us, I mean. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“How the fuck did you know?” you whispered, awestruck.

Bucky’s shoulders slumped in apparent relief. “Your heart eyes aren’t exactly subtle, doll.”

Shit, you silently cursed.

“Now that I know what you wanna ask me, I think I might help you out,” he offered gently, “what d’you say?”

Unable to find the words while Christmas carols played over the speakers that lined the ceiling — the volume so quiet you almost had to strain to pick it up over the thumping beat of your heart in your ears — you nodded.

“Alright then,” Bucky said, and he stood up to walk over to you. He reached for your hands, and you offered them — the warmth of his hands shocked you, but not as badly as when he kissed the back of your left hand, then the right. “Bubba, my girl, and my best friend…” His lips pulled up into a smile, the brightest you’d ever seen. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Before you could even consider his words, your mouth moved faster than your mind and you blurted, “As long as you bring your dogs.”

A bark of laughter split the tension, and you hugged Bucky tight, not caring about standing in the middle of his gym, shaking like a leaf from the giddy happiness and surprise.

Christmas miracles were, in fact, real, you decided.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #rookthorne's works

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kydrogendragon · 4 months

Text

Dec 30 - "May I Have This Dance?"

(Ao3 Link) (Masterpost Link)

It’s six in the evening and the New Inn is just beginning to have the crowds trickle in. There are various streamers and colorful centerpieces scattered around the place. The number 2024 was embellished upon the walls and tables and even on the glasses of some of the staff. Hob himself donned a pair, much to Morpheus’s chagrin. The cheesy gold and silver lettering on the tops of the plastic frames looked ridiculous. Morpheus hated how much they made him smile.

Morpheus has been present for many new years over his long life. And while he hadn’t paid much attention to them or to the passing of time in general, he knows well the festivities they bring with. Ever since mankind first kept track of the changing of the seasons, the turning of the year was a time that was observed with reverence. In this modern age, it seems to be observed by getting completely sloshed and lighting off colorful explosives.

Hob’s running around, getting the final pieces in place. He’s checked the karaoke machine and made sure that everything is charged and ready to go. He’s double checked with the staff that their supplies are filled and prepped, that the glasses are cleaned and the food is cooking. He’s adjusted the New Years banner that hangs above the bar top no less than five times and it’s when he goes to tweak it on the sixth that Morpheus finally rises from his corner booth to check on his fretting boyfriend.

He places a hand against the small of Hob’s back, guiding his attention to him as he speaks. “The banner is straight and centered. You need to adjust it once more.”

Hob chuckles and he climbs down from the stool he’d been using as an impromptu ladder. “Sorry love,” he says, curling into Morpheus’s hold. Slender pale hands find their homes upon Hob’s hips. He rubs gentle circles with his thumbs against the soft cotton shirt.

“You are nervous.”

Hob leans down, pressing his forehead against Morpheus’s shoulder. “Am I so obvious?”

“I do not understand why you are nervous. You have experienced many New Years before this, here at this Inn, no less.” Morpheus tilts his head to the side, letting his cheek rest upon his lover’s soft chestnut hair.

Hob sighs and winds his arms around Morpheus’s waist. They stay there, for a moment, enjoying each other’s presence in the relatively empty room until Hob speaks.

“It’s your first New Year, though. As a human. Wanted to make sure it was perfect,” Hob mumbles into his shoulder. Morpheus’s heart flips in his chest. The care and love Hob holds for him never fails to surprise him.

“Hob, look at me.” Slowly, Hob lifts his head, those brown eyes soft as he trails his gaze across Morpheus’s face. Taking his hands from his hips, Morpheus cradles Hob’s head between them. “You need not fret over such things. I am able to enjoy this celebration here with you, now. And that is in thanks to your kindness and generosity. This New Years will be perfect because you are here at my side and for no other reason.”

There are tears threatening to fall at the corners of Hob’s eyes. “Not even the world’s most straight banner could make it better?” He says, chuckling as a tear falls down his cheek. Morpheus thumbs it away before pressing a kiss against Hob’s lips.

“Not even that. Although I feel you are quite close to achieving that title.”

Hob laughs, a proper laugh this time. He tilts his head up, wiping away the water from his eyes as Morpheus’s hands fall back to his side.

“Thanks, dove. Think I needed to hear that.”

“I shall endeavor to tell you thus as often as you desire, then.”

“Good. Might need to hear it a couple more times tonight.” Hob says, placing another kiss upon Morpheus’s lips.

It’s just around nine when unexpected guests appear. Morpheus is at the bar top, watching as Hob demonstrates how to make his famous New Years drink he’s dubbed “Immortality”. It’s is an indulgent thing that’s sole purpose is to taste delicious and still get you drunk so you feel “immortal”. At least, that is the story Hob tells him as he works the cocktail shaker. He’s got a variety of different liquors and mixers contained within that he then pours into a glass over ice with a sugar coated rim. The key detail, he claims, is the frankly obscene amount of edible golden glitter he stirs in after.

It’s a pretty drink, Morpheus will give him that. And when he pushes a freshly poured glass in front of him, Morpheus has to admit it is rather tasty as well. It’s sweet, which he appreciates. As much as Hob enjoys his bitter drinks and throat-burning whiskeys or other liquors, Morpheus has never developed a taste for them. But this? This is good.

“I thought you disliked glitter,” Morpheus muses, staring up at Hob from the edge of his glass. Hob just laughs and shakes his head as he prepares another drink for a customer. They had gotten very busy, very quickly, and the staff got overwhelmed, so Hob being Hob jumped behind the counter (after ensuring Morpheus was fine with it, of course). He had no complaints. It gave him a reason to enjoy the sight of his lover in his element as well as watch the careful flex of his forearms and biceps as he prepared each drink.

“Well, I made an exception for you, didn’t I?” Hob retorts, smiling as he sugars the rim of a few more glasses. Eric, another bartender Morpheus has grown to know well over his few months of humanity, busies himself behind Hob with prepping another selection of fruity cocktails.

“That you did.” After the peppermint bath bombs were all used up (Morpheus had very much enjoyed the added experience of scent and glitter that they provided), Hob had indulged him by taking him to a local store that sold a variety of bath bombs and other creations. Morpheus had taken his time choosing a selection. They didn’t last long. Almost every bath he had taken since involved the use of a new bath bomb. Hob joked that their tub would become permanently glittery. Morpheus had fretted over it at first, worried Hob would grow angry at him for it, but Hob had soothed away his fears. Now, they have a dedicated basket by the edge of the tub to contain the newest selections for Morpheus’s use.

“Well? How do you like the taste of ‘Immortality’?” Hob jokes, pouring the last batch of drinks out. He hands the glasses to the group of university students with a smile. One pipes out a “Thanks Professor!” as the group merges back into the ever growing crowd.

The party was gaining in intensity as the alcohol flowed. People were dancing on the makeshift dance floor beside the karaoke machine, which has also started to see use. A thought runs through Morpheus’s mind as he looks over his shoulder at the young couple standing atop the small stage who are singing their hearts out to some pop song. They are not excellent singers, but they are far from the worst so far tonight. Perhaps he’ll coax Hob up onto the stage so that he might hear his lover’s voice in song.

“It is more pleasant that I had expected,” Morpheus says, twirling the golden liquid in the glass. “I thought that, perhaps, immortality would grow stale and tiring after a time. But I should have known that when blessed with your guiding hands, it would be a gift rather than a curse.”

He is not talking of the drink. Not completely. When the choice was presented to him in the soft sands of the in-between by his sister, he was uncertain. Death, a rest from all that he has ever been and will ever be, called to him stronger than any desire has before. So long had Morpheus wished to be other than what he was, to be able to hand over the mantle of Dream to another so than he might finally have peace. Then, when his brother arrived, telling him there was yet another option, he�� well. He was still unsure.

To end one life and start anew? To become less than what he was and suffer through the ordeals of humanity sounded far closer to a punishment than a gift. But Hob had pleaded with him to take the chance. It became clear to Morpheus that first week that Hob recalled none of what happened in the shifting sands of the soft places. To him, it was still nothing but a dream, perhaps a nightmare. And while the words he spoke were true and from his heart, he did not recall ever speaking them to Morpheus.

Hob had pleaded with him, standing between Destruction and Death themselves, hands outstretched to the former Dream Lord. A mortal, with more stubbornness and determination in his heart than any human had a right to. He asked him to stay, to join him if Morpheus wished, but to choose to live. To choose each day to continue on, even if it would be such a different life, a different experience. To Hob, the choice was obvious. He was a man who forsook Death. To Hob, choosing to live was the easiest choice anyone could make.

To Morpheus, it was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

Hob was staring at him when Morpheus lifted his gaze, a soft and sad smile on his face. He wipes his hands off on the towel across his shoulder and sets it on the counter. Morpheus watches him make his way around the bar and leans back into his sturdy chest as Hob wraps his arms around his middle. Hob rests his chin on the top of Morpheus head.

“You know, keep this up and you’re gonna end up making me cry this whole night, love.” Morpheus places his arm atop Hob’s own, fingers grazing against the warm skin. The thick hair that covers him shifts under his touch in a familiar fashion. He trails his hands over his forearm until he climbs up to intertwine their fingers, giving his lover’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“So long as they are happy ones.”

Hob chuckles as he presses his nose into Morpheus’s hair. “You’re a menace, you know that? Just you wait until my heartfelt speech. Then you’ll be the one crying happy tears.”

“Oh?” Morpheus says. “Do you have such a speech planned?”

“Not yet, but we’ve still a few hours to go. I’ll make it a good one.” Hob replies, taking a deep breath in as he presses Morpheus’s body close to his.

The door chimes and is somehow louder than it has been in all of Morpheus’s time here. He turns, instinctively, and his eyes widen as he takes in the sight.

There are six Endless standing in the entrance of the New Inn.

Desire stands at the front, dresses in the most eye-catching sequin dress Morpheus has ever seen. They are covered in glitter and gems as they tilt their head back and sigh. Their arms are outstretched as they speak.

“Oh, this place is positively rolling with desire,” they purr, turning their head to their other siblings. “Don’t you agree?” Despair nods, her eyes wandering across the crowd. She is dressed as she often has been in this century: plain grey lounge wear with holes scattered around. One of her rats sits atop her shoulder as she caresses the jagged edge of her hook.

“And still teeming with regrets and sadness, my twin. This was a good choice, indeed.”

“Oh you two, I told you you’d have fun.” Death says, standing forward and finding Morpheus’s gaze in the crowd. “Hello little brother.”

Hob’s head lifts from Morpheus’s own and gasps. His arms fall from Morpheus’s body, finding a home on his own hips instead. “Did you know your family was coming?” Hob whispers as the group of Endless make their way toward the pair.

Morpheus shakes his head. “I was not aware, no.”

Death takes the lead, Desire and Despair trailing further behind, talking amongst themselves. Dream is there as well, standing beside their sister with a soft smile upon his lips. Morpheus’s heart lurches. This is the first time he has spoken with his former self in the Waking. He is… he does not know. He supposes he is, as Hob would say, a clusterfuck of emotions.

Delirium skips along side, her outfit as bright and colorful as herself. There are small mirror panels plastered across the arms of her jean jacket that reflect the light in a dizzying manner and her hair all but floats as she moves. “Murphy!” she calls, racing forward and lunging herself into his lap. Hob leans his arm on the bar behind Morpheus, helping steady him with the strength of his forearm against his back.

She curls up, not unlike a cat, over his legs, looking up at him with those bright heterochromatic eyes. He smiles, looking down at his youngest sister.

“Hello, Delirium. Happy New Year.”

Dream and Death join at their side. Death wraps her arm around Hob’s shoulder, leaning her head against his. Dream simply stands to her right, gazing down at Morpheus and Delirium. Desire and Despair stand a step or two away, Desire leaning dramatically against the bar as Despair climbs into one of the open bar stools. Most surprisingly of all, perhaps, is Destiny, who walks towards them with the confidence he always carries, his book tucked under his arm.

“Are you going to set off the pretty lights here as well? There’s always so many pretty lights on this night. And good visions. And happiness. And fun colors.” She says, her skin changing and glowing with each sentence. Hob chuckles.

“No, no fireworks here. But, if you go outside and look across the park, you can probably see them at a distance.” Delirium’s eyes quite literally light up as Hob speaks. Suddenly, she leaps off of Morpheus’s lap, briefly turning into a firework, before gluing herself back into a human shape.

“Fireworks!!!” She cries, spinning in a circle.

“But we still have to wait,” Death says. “It’s not firework time just yet.”

Delirium huffs, her cheeks growing as wide as a puffer-fish. “I know! I can wait. I know how to wait!”

Morpheus smiles. Desire rolls their eyes, but gazes fondly at their younger sister’s antics. Despair has taken to looking across the New Inn’s crowd. She doesn’t smile, but her face is content. Destruction is not present, but Morpheus is not surprised by this. He would not have expected him to come. In fact, Morpheus had not expected any of them to come. And as pleased as he is, and surprisingly happy to see them all here, he grows nervous.

“Is something the matter?” Morpheus asks, his eyes turning to each of his siblings.

It’s Desire that speaks first.

“Can we all not simply enjoy a night among the humans without some world-ending issue at hand?” They say, reaching for a drink that had not been on the bar just moments ago. They take a sip from the swirly, colorful straw, arching a brow as they stare Morpheus down.

“We’re here because we want to be,” Death says, releasing Hob and tilting her head to the side to better see him. Morpheus turns his gaze to her, brows pulled together.

“But. I-” He sighs, folding his hands on his lap. “I do not understand.”

Dream takes a step forward, hands folded behind his back. “We wished to spend this night with you. And among humanity.” Morpheus looks up into the starry night eyes he once wore. The soft white curls hang around Dream’s face.

“Plus,” Desire pipes up again. “As I said when we got here, lots and lots of desires around here. Good for the soul.”

“And much despair.”

“And colors and confusion and funny thoughts and sights!” Delirium adds.

“And many dreams.”

“Not much death, hopefully,” Death adds, elbowing his shoulder lightly. “But with fireworks, you never know! I’ve a feeling I’ll be popping out for work here and there throughout the night.”

“So,” Desire says, lifting themselves onto the edge of the bar. They swing their feet out in front of them. “Not just for you. But you know, you’re here as well, so might as well say hi.”

Morpheus laughs. It is still an ugly, braying thing, but Hob has claimed to love it regardless. Dream laughs as well and Morpheus only laughs harder at how similar it is to his own. Death joins in, her snorting chuckle adding to the terrible laughing choir they are building as each of his siblings begins to laugh as well. Delirum’s laugh chimes like bells then birds then the quaking of the Earth. Despair’s is a low hum and Desire’s is the light fluttering of wings or a flame. Destiny’s is the hard toll of a bell, of finality, but he laughs nonetheless.

Hob’s voice comes in last, the loud, joyful thing that it is, harmonizes with the mess that is the group of Endless laughing the night away. Then, a booming hardy chuckle joins in. They all turn to the looming figure in the doorway, his ginger hair pulled up in a bun as their brother smiles at them.

“Heard there was a party going on,” Destruction says, gliding over to their little group. “Couldn’t miss that, could I?”

“Brother,” Morpheus whispers as he walks to the front, standing in front of the stool he sits upon. He has not seen him since... well. Since he died, he supposes.

Destruction plops his large hand on Morpheus’s shoulder. It is ridiculous just how large his hand looks on his own relatively narrow frame. Even after he has since bulked up some with Hob’s cooking and care. It’s only now, as a human, that he realizes just how large and daunting his younger brother is.

“How you doing, Morpheus?” Destruction asks, smiling down at him with a twinkle in his eye. “Humanity looks good on you, you know.”

There are tears in his eyes. He does not quite know why he is crying, but he is. And then another laugh bursts through, between the sobs that make their way forward. Suddenly, he is wrapped up in much too large arms and pulled off of his seat. His feet dangle off the floor as he’s pressed tight against his brother’s chest.

Morpheus supposes, as the tears and the laughter do not stop, that he hadn’t truly ever… thought much of his death. Of what took place after the Kindly Ones ravaged the Dreaming and demanded his demise. There had been much to do after becoming human and the short time he had in-between was taken up primarily by the debate of how his afterlife would unfold.

He should have expected this, in hind sight. He can no longer tuck his emotions away, through dreams or ignorance. His paltry human mind would no longer allow him. They bubbled up to the surface quicker than he has learned to tamp them down. Hob’s encouragement to feel his emotions and work through them has done nothing to help his ability as restraining them, either. The mixed bag of feelings arises from deep within him as he is surrounded by his family, who, despite Desire’s claim, have all come to visit with him for a night of human celebrations, is unleashed and Morpheus is powerless to stop it. And with Destruction’s arrival and the sight of him unlatches the final box he had stuffed all the thoughts and feelings of his transition into, he cries. And laughs. And feels as his arms begin to go numb with how tightly his brother’s squeeze is on his body and so he laughs again.

Hob’s hands are on his face, rubbing away the trail of tears on his face as Destruction sets him back on his feet. Death steadies him, a hand on his shoulder. And as he clears his eyes and looks upon the faces of his siblings, of his family, his heart aches with the realization that, despite everything, they care. They love him. It is an overwhelming sensation.

“I… I apologize,” he says, voice rough, as he takes the offers handkerchief from Dream. The fabric twinkles and shifts like galaxies and it brings a smile to his face. “Humanity has made me more temperamental.”

“Oh, more temperamental?” Desire says, sliding their way closer so their foot can gently poke his arm. They look down at him from their perch with a smirk on their lips. “You were already a big ball of emotions, you just refused to ever feel them before.” They look up at Dream who is staring at them with an unimpressed face. “You’ve gotten a bit better. Still temperamental, though.”

Death chuckles, bumping her shoulder into Dream’s. “I have to agree with Destruction though,” she says, turning back to Morpheus. “Humanity does look good on you.” Her eyes flit up to Hob who has taken his position guarding Morpheus’s side, one hand wound around to rest on his lower back and gives him a smile.

“You haven’t come and stopped by my realm since!” Delirium says, pounding her foot on the ground. “You should come visit! I want to give you the fun nice visions I’ve made! I have some birdies I made for you, but you haven’t come by yet!”

Morpheus chuckles and leans in closer to Delirium. “I shall endeavor to come visit you soon.”

“You know,” Hob says and Morpheus can just hear the smirk in his voice. “I can easily get you into her realm with enough drinks.”

He turns before he rolls his eyes so Hob would see, which earns him a chuckle. “Perhaps another time. I think I would prefer to remember this evening.” He turns back to Delirium. “If Dream would allow, perhaps you could send me your birds this evening while I sleep?”

Delirium’s eyes light up and she spins on her feet to face Dream. His face mirror’s Morpheus’s own as they both look down at her with a soft fondness reserved solely for their youngest sibling. “Can I? Can we send him my birdies?” She pleads, tugging on the long white robes that Dream wears. He rests a hand upon her head and nods.

“Since Morpheus has agreed, then you may. But only once he is safely within the Dreaming this evening. So you will have longer to wait.”

She nods, her head bouncing like a bobble head. “I know how to wait! I can wait for the colorful lights and I can wait until he’s in your realm!”

The night progresses. Desire takes to the dance floor at one point, their glittering gown entrancing the looks of many. Even as a mortal, Morpheus knows that they are enjoying and luxuriating in the desires they are swirling in the hearts of those who look upon them.

Despair has found a secluded corner, the one that Morpheus himself often sits, and has been relaxing in the soft high-backed hair as she watch the crowds in silence. She has turned her gaze to a man who sits at the far edge of the bar, his head in one hand, a drink in the other.

Dream, Death, Hob, and himself have found a seat at one of the tables near the window. Destruction pulled up a chair from another table and has sat with them. Delirium does not sit, but rather floats above them. Eyes flow off of her like water, thankfully. The few that do not are too far gone into their drinks that they do not think much of the sight. Destiny stands, leaning against the window, silent, but present.

There is laughter and tales swapped between their little group. Hob spins tales of their time together, of his students and his coworkers. He tells stories of the little things, embarrassing moments that draw forth laughter and the touching moments that bring with them soft smiles. Morpheus finds himself in a familiar position, his head propped up by his hand, arm resting on the table as he gazes at his lover. His eyes trail across his face, watching the light in Hob’s eyes glow and glint in the soft lighting. He watches the tilt of his mouth as he smiles through his words and the animated gestures of his hands because the man does not know how to talk without using them. He watches the movement of his brows and the scrunch of his nose. He watches the shake of his chest as he laughs and the flick of his tongue as he wets his lips.

It’s only when the flash of a camera goes off that Morpheus blinks back into the conversation. Death smiles as she pulls the Polaroid from the camera and sets it face down on the table. Both Hob and Morpheus turn to her with varying levels of confusion.

“When did you get a camera?” Hob asks, bewildered.

“Oh, you know,” Death says, setting the familiar camera on the table. “Popped out for a quick second for work and thought I’d nab this from your flat on the way back.”

Hob blinks. “Wait… when did you leave?”

Death just winks. Morpheus chuckles. He reaches forward, turning the camera in his hands. There is a small groove on the base and a few spots of white paint on the black plastic that mark it as Hob’s. He smiles as he lifts the camera up to his eye.

Death smiles and leans closer to Dream. Destruction stands, moving so he’s in-between the two. Delirium’s head appear at the top of the frame and Destiny is visible on the edge. “Smile,” Morpheus says, clicking the shutter as his family all grins. Even Dream smiles, as soft as it is.

There’s a flash and the camera churns out the thick glossy plastic from within. He grabs it and sets it face down beside Death’s own before handing it back over to her.

“Well, we’ll have to get an actual group photo before the night is over,” Destruction says, moving back to his own seat. “It’s not often we have everyone here, after all.”

Hob hums in agreement as he lifts his drink to his lips. “That’d be nice. I’ve a copier for those, so we can get more made if you’d all like one.”

“I want the pretty picture!!” Delirium says, floating down so her back now rests on the window. “I’ll put it in the gallery cause that’s where pictures you like are supposed to go.”

Morpheus smiles as the conversations drifts back into tales and stories of the past. Death talks of some of the sights she’s seen over the year, of the people she’s met and of her day as a mortal. Destruction talks to his art and his travels. He and Hob commiserate over the various locations they’ve visited over the years and the unique struggles lives like theirs bring. Dream, even, talks of the Dreaming and of the citizens there. He talks of Lucienne and Matthew and Mervyn and it brings with it an ache in Morpheus’s chest but he urges Dream to continue. And so he does.

Matthew, apparently, wishes to tell Morpheus “Happy New Year” and to “get trashed” for him since he can no longer get drunk as a Raven. Lucienne also sends her regards and a tear falls down his cheek as he realizes that even those he left behind in the Dreaming care for him still, despite not being their Lord anymore.

“You know,” Hob says, smiling over at Dream. It is a startling vision, he realizes. Hob sits across from Dream as they had for centuries. He wonders, briefly, if Dream plans to continue their agreement to meet each hundred years. “I don’t know how the whole Dreaming to Waking traveling thing goes, but they’re always more than welcome to stop by. I’m sure Morpheus would love to see them again.” He turns, glancing as Morpheus with a question to his gaze.

He nods, looking back to his old self. “Should you, of course, allow it. I… I have missed them.”

“As they have missed you,” Dream says. He realizes, as the night sky gaze falls over him, just how intense it is to be under it. He is surprised Hob had managed to ever speak clearly during their meetings. “Perhaps, if you would wish, you may walk the Dreaming with clarity as you once had. I would not take you from your normal dreams and nightmares, but would grant you such on the nights you wished. Then you could visit the denizens of the Dreaming at your leisure.”

Morpheus smiles. “I would greatly appreciate that. Thank you, Dream Lord.” Dream huffs.

“You needn’t be so formal. Not to me. Not as you are.”

“Very well, then,” Morpheus says, bowing his head in agreement. “Dream.”

It’s nearly midnight when Hob extends his hand out to Morpheus, a sly smile on his face. “May I have this dance?” He asks. The music, he realizes belatedly, has changed. No longer is it the pop music that had been filtering through the inn prior, but has since slowed.

Ah.

It’s Glenn Miller. Moonlight Serenade, specifically. It is the first song they had listened to once Morpheus was able to withstand the noise. It was a gentle tune. Melodic in it’s rhythm and hardly appropriate for a New Year’s Eve celebration, but that has not deterred the drunken patrons in the center of the dance floor. They have turned from the rocking and jolted dancing to a smoother, softer flow. Many have paired up together, arms wrapped around necks and waists. And it’s as he looks back up at Hob does he realizes that this song was not chosen at random.

Hob had planned it. And wished to dance with Morpheus.

In another life, he would have turned him down. That other life, however, was sitting across the table from him with a knowing glint in his eye. This is a new life. And so he takes Hob’s hand and lets his lover guide him to the dance floor and wraps his arms around Morpheus’s waist and Morpheus wraps his arms around Hob’s neck. And they sway. They sway gently to the tune, not caring for form or function. They sway and enjoy the flow and the music and the lights. And when Hob gently guides Morpheus into a small spin under his arm, he laughs softly, a smile upon his lips.

He understands, in that moment, why people dance. Especially with one they care for. As he stares up into Hob’s kind eyes, the ones he has had the fortune of waking up to each morning for most of his newly human life, all others fade away. It is just him and Hob here in this moment. They float across their small section of the floor. And perhaps it is the alcohol of Hob’s dangerously addictive “immortality” drinks or maybe it is the high of having so many that he loves and cares for near, but Morpheus is certain this is the happiest he has ever been.

He cries, a single tear, for the him that would have said no to Hob Gadling’s pleas. He cries for the him that would never have known such bliss. He cries, briefly, for Dream, for Daniel, who now bears his old burdens and hopes that somewhere in Destiny’s book, he can one day find his own bliss like Morpheus has finally found his.

Hob kisses the tear away and whispers against his skin. “I really didn’t plan on having today be such a cry fest, I swear.” His breath and his lips tickle the soft skin of his cheek. Morpheus chuckles.

“Perhaps New Years can be the exception, then. So long as we do not make a habit of so many tears.” Hob laughs and the sound does not fail to send Morpheus’s heart aflutter.

“Sounds like a good plan. No more tears allowed tomorrow. So no watching Up.”

Morpheus snorts. It is undignified and Hob loves him more for it. He has said so in the past. “No. No Up, indeed. You would end up using the last dredges of hydration on your tears if we did.”

“Oh if I did, is that is? Tell me, who was the one that went through a whole box of tissues at the first half of the film?” Morpheus turns his head, his temple resting upon Hob’s chin.

“It does not count as such when the box was nearly empty to begin with.” Hob laughs. Morpheus smiles.

They stay there, eyes closed as they enjoy one another’s warmth and company as the music plays. Then, as the song fades to a close and the mood shifts once again to the hyperactive pulse of some song Morpheus does not know the name of, they slow to a stop.

“I love you, you know.” Hob says, not moving from their spot on the floor just yet. He still has a hand on Morpheus’s waist.

“I know,” he says, trailing his hands down his biceps and resting at his forearms. “I love you as well. With all of my heart and all that I am.”

“The balls about to drop, everyone!” A voice calls loudly from the bar. Eric flips the television over to the news channel where a live stream of the New Year’s ball is shown. A cheer echoes through the Inn as everyone turns to face the sight.

“10!”

Hob nuzzles his head against Morpheus’s.

“9!”

Morpheus turns, their noses grazing.

“8!”

Hob’s eyes meet his, the earthen brown golden in the light of the Inn.

“7!”

He has never looked more wonderful.

“6!”

Hob’s calloused hand raises up, cupping Morpheus’s cheek.

“5!”

Morpheus lifts his hand and rests it just above Hob’s heart.

“4!”

“Kiss me,” he whispers, feeling the warmth of his own breath bounce back at him against Hob’s lips.

“3!”

“Any time you ask,” Hob replies, his lips turned in a smile.

“2!”

Their lips meet. He is warm, as he always is. Morpheus’s hand tightens, his fingers gripping the fabric of Hob’s shirt, pulling him closer.

“1!”

His heart is hammering in his chest like this was their first kiss. It is far from such, but somehow feels different than all the rest.

“0!”

“Happy New Year, love,” Hob says, a whisper against his lips.

“Happy New Year, Hob.”

#dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #the sandman #ky writes #december writing list #kydrogen's december drabbles 2023 #daniel hall #destiny of the endless #death of the endless #desire of the endless #despair of the endless #delirium of the endless #destruction of the endless

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 4 months

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Lovers & Friends (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Keigo Takami x Touya "Dabi" Todoroki x Black!Fem!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which you are given one NYE that you will never forget when Keigo invites your friends over for a game of strip Uno and you become acutely aware of how attractive Dabi is.

Warnings: Smutty smut; 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY); Flirting; Stripping; Threesome; Verbal Consent; Mutual Oral; Double Deepthroat; Double Cunnilingus (Hawks & Dabi both eat your pussy); Big Dicks; Spitting; Hair-Pulling; Degradation & Praise; Spitroast; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Throatpie; Dabi Calls You "Baby Doll"; L-Bombs; Aftercare; Loud, Sneaky Sex

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Someone gave me this idea in a comment. Originally, I was just gonna write a smutty holiday chapter for Hawks for NYE, but Hawks AND Dabi?? I couldn't resist. Enjoy & happy holidays! AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BIRD BABY DADDY! -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Bonus Chapter.

Read on AO3 here!

Songs Mentioned in this Chapter:

Umbrella - Rihanna

Can I - Kehlani

Moodswings - Pop Smoke

Touch It (Do It Well Pt. 4) - DVSN

OTW - Jhene Aiko ft. Mila J

Sit On It - Jazmine Sullivan ft. Ari Lennox

***********

Bonus Chapter: New Year, New Experiences.

Dabi has always been nice-looking, but seeing him now has made you realize how attractive he really is.

When the fuck did he get this fine? You can't help but wonder this as you nurse your second glass of Moscato of the night, then feel extremely guilty for it. You look down at your drink, wondering if the alcohol is having more of a deeper affect on you than you anticipated. Usually, at this point, you’re giving major “fuck me” eyes to your boyfriend. Which you are…but to your childhood friend as well.

They both stand in the kitchen you and Keigo share now, whipping up snack plates and cocktails for your NYE celebration. Keigo had suggested you celebrate at your shared crib tonight and invite Rumi and Dabi over too. You had asked what he wanted to do for New Years this year about a week ago after the chaos and festivities of Christmas faded.

“I really don't wanna go out,” he said, your feet in his lap and his hands expertly rubbing them, massaging out the kinks. He laughed at your bewildered expression. “Shocking, I know, but after Christmas, I’m just not feelin’ like bein’ out in the streets and around too many people…or spendin’ money.” And he did go all out for Christmas, gifting you at least $1k in gifts and presenting all of his employees and interns at his agency with gift cards (and two weeks off for Christmas and New Years).

“But since you asked, I just wanna stay in and invite the gang over for a private celebration…have food, drink, games…is that okay with you?” Before you could even reply, he immediately talked over you, softening the blow that he was sure he made. “We can still go out if you want. I wouldn’t wanna keep you cooped up in here if you–“

You stop him by pressing a finger to his plump lips. “Keigo,” you interrupt him. “That sounds like a great idea. I’ll call Rumi and Dabi right now to see if they wanna join us.” His wide, golden eyes stared at you for a moment in shock before softening, relieved that you weren’t upset. So you hit up Rumi who was a definite yes and Dabi to see if he had enough free time to come out for the night.

“Only if I can make my famous drinks,” he said in his raspy, chainsmoker voice. “The cinnamon fireballs. I’ll send you the recipe so you can grab the shit for it.” You groaned over the phone, already envisioning the chaos in store for you. Dabi swears he can mix drinks like a bartending pro. “Okay, but just don’t blow up my kitchen,” you warned.

My kitchen. You are still getting used to calling all of the things in Keigo’s penthouse yours, but sometimes, it just comes out naturally: my kitchen; my living room; my bed. Shortly after the Billboard Event, you moved into Keigo’s home, albeit secretly. You had to pay the moving men double to move your shit out of Rumi’s place at night in order to avoid paparazzi, but in a week, you were settled. Though Rumi misses you, she also doesn’t mind the privacy, especially when she's able to bring someone home and have as much loud sex as she wants.

Though almost a month has passed since you moved in with Keigo, you’re still adjusting to this new way of life, especially since you’re not just a roomie to Keigo. You’re his girlfriend. His partner. Every time you wake up next to him and see the sun shine against his hair and long eyelashes, you are reminded of this. It’s like the fact remerges in your brain every single morning despite nothing changing. And you hope it never does.

“The snacks are almost done!” Keigo happily calls into the living room where you and Rumi sit. “You’re never gonna wanna leave when you get a taste of these babies.” Rumi rolls her eyes at you, twirling a lock of her hair. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she scoffs. Her silvery, long hair is tied up in a high ponytail while she adorns a Christmas sweater and booty shorts that make her muscular, firm ass look extra delicious and envious.

Opposite to her cozy, lived-in look, you’re wearing Keigo’s oversized cashmere sweater that looks like a dress on you and hip-hugging skinny jeans. You also slathered on some lip gloss and nail polish to look presentable tonight, at least wanting to feel pretty with company around. “The fireballs are almost done too,” Dabi announces. “Rumi, you still like extra tequila in yours?” Rumi gives him a look which makes him laugh. “Y/N, you want one too?” he curiously asks.

You take a look at the kitchen counter through the threshold of the kitchen, finding a huge bottle of tequila open and cinnamon dusting the countertop. “I’m good with Moscato, thanks,” you say. “I’m not tryin’ to burn my tonsils out.” Dabi shrugs a shoulder, snorting. “Suit yourself, but my stuff is good. I’d even make it lighter for you.”

Keigo cackles as he moves behind his friend, kicking him in the ankle as he does. “Bitch, you don’t know how to make any drink light!”

Dabi rolls his eyes and turns back around to finish the drinks, his arms and back muscles flexing under his black tee that seems to stick to his upper body something sinful. You thought this when he first arrived at your front door thirty minutes ago after getting dropped off by his assigned guard for the night. “Welcome!” you cheerfully greeted him, only for your voice to die in your throat once you got a look at him.

Looking at him now, you become highly aware of how attractive he’s gotten since he’s been in prison. His lean, scrawny body as a kid and teen have gone away, now replaced with muscle like hard grant though he still has that leanness to him that makes him appear skinny under his clothes. But anyone who saw how tight his shirt is would realize that they’ve been duped. He has obviously been working out to build such muscle and tone his body, no doubt using his time to focus on his health.

And he looks good. Especially with his snow-white hair, which he has opted to keep instead of his black hair, that makes his crystal blue eyes pop. Every time he looks at you, you feel like he is stealing the very breath out of you…and it’s fucking weird.

Where did this attraction come from? Though you’ve always known your friend is cute, you’ve never been attracted to Dabi. Even the one time you played Spin the Bottle back in middle school and you were dared to kiss by Keigo and Rumi, nothing came from that. It was a stupid, little kid thing that happened after school behind the building, in the setting spring sun. After, you decided you worked better as friends which he agreed with and since then, you’ve been nothing but friends. Yet there you were, staring him down as he stood at the door, waiting for you to let him in.

He raised his pierced eyebrow at you and your speechlessness. “Well?” he asks. “You gonna let me in or what?” Realizing you were standing at the door like a moron, you quickly let him in, your face hot. He gave you a weird look as he shimmied into the room, immediately bombarded by the Bunny Hero. “Dabi, you’re here!” Rumi squeals, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. “Damn, what have you been eatin’, man? You’re bigger than me now!”

Dabi chuckled, squeezing her tight before yanking on her ears, making her shriek. You watched, still confused as to what just happened. “Dabi’s here?” Keigo called from the kitchen. “Tell him to come in here and help me get these veggies ready!” Dabi clucked his tongue, giving you a sly side eye. “Only five seconds in and he’s already fucking up,” he chuckles. “You picked a good one, doll.”

And you did. You know you did. Keigo is the best boyfriend and sexiest man in the world…and yet here you are, staring down his best friend. Your best friend. Even now as you sip your wine, you can’t understand it. Are you just horny?

Since the holiday season, you’ve been more stressed and extremely horny lately, leading you and Keigo to try new things in the bedroom. It’s been an interesting and exciting adventure for you both. Handcuffs and rope; sensory and roleplaying; all kinds of kinky shit that has led to conversations about more things to try…and things that you’ll keep private for now. Things that you are interested in that you won’t dare tell Keigo right now. With how possessive he is, he just wouldn’t go along with it and you wouldn’t make him. So you’ve kept it to yourself, instead fantasizing and wondering all of those “what ifs”.

You’re so deep in your troubling thoughts that you barely see Keigo saunter into the room in his cute apron with a tray of appetizers: homemade fried cauliflower bites, cheesesteak egg rolls, and a gorgeous veggie plate of orange carrots, green celery, and bright red tomatoes with all kinds of dipping sauces in the middle. “Wow, this looks amazing, babe,” you coo. “You really went all out for us tonight.” Keigo smiles proudly as he lowers the food down on the coffee table. “Oh, that’s not even the best part, baby bird,” he chuckles.

Dabi then emerges from the kitchen carrying a tray of mugs filled with his fireballs and cinnamon sticks. He lowers the tray down and gives Keigo a smirk as the winged pro pulls out a bag of weed and a game of Uno. You and Rumi immediately abrupt into laughter, knowing exactly what is in store for tonight. “It’s almost 2024!” Keigo chuckles, popping a carrot into his mouth. "Might as well celebrate to the fullest.”

“Strip Uno,” Rumi cackles, nudging you. “Y/N, your man is one horny motherfucker. Are you treating him right or does he have something to tell us?” You roll your eyes as you flush in Keigo's sweater. “Shut up,” you giggle. “And you know damn well that I treat Keigo very well.” You and he share a secretive smile, one that immediately propels you into memories of endless nights and days of good ass sex.

Rumi makes a disgusted face, hopping away from you to the other end of the couch. “Ugh, don’t even remind me. I’m so tired of seeing you two suck faces when we’re out.” While Dabi snorts into his drink, Keigo pulls on one of Rumi’s ears. “Ooooh, someone’s jealous,” he sing-songs. “I always knew you wanted this sexy ass, cotton tail.” You swear, you’ve never seen Rumi look so uncomfortable in her life and it makes you nearly choke on your Moscato laughing.

You help Keigo and Dabi move the coffee table to the middle of the floor with your snacks, drinks, and game in tow while Rumi hooks her 2000s hits playlist up to the TV. Soon, the sound of Rihanna’s “Umbrella” fills the living room space. After everything it set up, you sit down on the floor across from Rumi while Dabi takes your left and Keigo takes your right. “Okay, so before we start, I wanna propose a toast,” Keigo happily states, raising his mug. You three groan exhaustively and he pulls the cutest pout. “C’mooon, this is one of the only times in weeks we’ve all been together since the Billboard Event!”

Though indifferent to the idea, Rumi raises her mug while you raise your glass of Moscato. Dabi notices, his expression albeit blank. “You sure you don’t want none of this?” he asks, nodding at his drink. Then a sly smirk quirks onto his lips. “Or is it ‘cause you can’t handle it?” he teases, ever the asshole. Usually, his teasing doesn’t bother you, but tonight, it does. Along with the way his voice dips into a deeper, raspier tone when he says it.

You give him a look to hide your reaction, daring him to try you. “Dabi, you know I can’t handle it. You make drinks like you’re trying to poison people.” He shrugs a shoulder though he is still smirking. “Fair point, but a sip won’t hurt.”

He passes a mug to you but doesn’t hand it to you. His blue eyes flick from the drink to you, patiently waiting for you to take a sip. It’s as if he’s silently asking you, “Do you trust me?” Or maybe the Moscato is just speaking to you at this point. “Toast!” Keigo shouts, interrupting your thoughts. “To a new year of new experiences and new journeys with old friends.”

He smiles at each you fondly, his golden eyes twinkling with utter joy. Deciding quickly, you take Dabi’s drink and hold it up with the others. “Cheers!” you all shout before downing Dabi’s drink. It’s only a sip, but it’s enough to taste the strong tequila and sweet cinnamon mixed in it. Though your throat burns as it goes down, the sweetness is addicting. Dabi looks proud as you lower the mug down. “See?” he murmurs. “Nothing you couldn’t handle.” You resist the urge to think of something else besides the drink.

“Uno time!” Rumi bellows, taking the cards to shuffle while Dabi begins rolling a blunt to pass between you four. Keigo takes a seat next to you, his eyes already set dead on you. “Come sit close to me, baby bird,” he coos, wrapping an arm around your lower back. “You look so fuckin’ cute tonight. I can’t keep my eyes off of you, even for the game.”

You do as he requests, snuggling in close despite being in your friends’ company, loving how he smells so much like cinnamon and the brown sugar soap you got him for Christmas. You also bought him Burberry cologne which he has sprayed on his skin, making him absolutely irresistible to you. Add in the black cashmere sweater and sweats that hide one of your favorite parts of him, and you’re ready to use him as a seat.

“Well, you’d better,” Dabi grumbles, glaring at both of you. “Nobody’s tryin’ to see you two eye fuck for the next few hours.” Keigo presses a finger to your cheek, turning your head to face him. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous that I’ve got such a gorgeous woman to cuddle up with at night and all he’s got is a pillow.”

You put a hand on his arm and squeeze, shaking your head in warning. Too far. But Dabi isn’t bothered by the jab, simply sprinkling marijuana into a piece of paper. “You’d be surprised how many visitors I get who wanna replace that pillow,” he retorts. “I get a lot of fan mail too…mostly nudes.”

You give a big, ugly cackle at this. “Oh, I believe it,” Rumi snickers. “Plenty of people are attracted to villains, bad boys, and emotionally damaged men with tattoos and piercings.” She gives Dabi a shit-eating grin while he pegs a carrot at her, making you and Keigo crack up.

You go to pick out a cauliflower from the veggie plate, but accidentally brush your fingers against Dabi’s reaching for the same thing. “Oh, sorry!” you squeak, quickly snatching your hand back. Your friend barely bats an eyelash. “Take it,” he says carelessly. “No big deal. I’m still rollin’ up anyway.”

You do so, slowly reaching for a cauliflower and dipping into the ranch dressing. Your movements are robotic, mechanical, as you chew and swallow, feeling Dabi’s eyes on you. You can tell he wants to ask, but he doesn’t and you find yourself drinking some more of his drink to push away your nagging thoughts. Fortunately, Rumi interrupts the awkward moment. “Game time!” she shouts. “I’ll deal and then we can start. Everybody know and remember the rules of strip Uno?” You each nod having played this game dozens of times (mostly tipsy or high). It usually ends in either someone halfway naked.

After downing the rest of your Moscato, you feel looser, you go first and put a red card down. The turns go right (Keigo, Rumi, Dabi) before settling on you again when the color is changed to yellow. You take a card and read it, groaning at the instructions. “Oooh, first loser down!” Rumi giggles, taking Dabi’s finished blunt from him. “Read it to us, babe.” Keigo tries to look over your shoulder, but you shoo him away. “Take six cards or strip off your shirt,” you read. “Well, I don’t wanna take six cards, so…” You feel yourself stripping off Keigo's sweater to reveal your lacy red bra underneath.

You feel warm under Keigo and Dabi’s gazes, one of which you can feel burning into you though you don’t look. “Oooh, sexy,” Rumi chuckles, puffing on her blunt. “Now it’s your turn, Keigo.” She passes the blunt back to Dabi who takes a hit, smoke billowing from his lips and nostrils in clouds. His eyes are blue slits that regard yours as you glance at him from the corner of your eye. Keigo takes his turn, putting down yellow, before Rumi takes hers. “Take eight cards or tell the person beside you to take off their shirt,” she reads. She gives Dabi a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Dabi, but…”

Keigo cackles hysterically while Dabi rolls his eyes, passing his blunt to you. You don’t know why but you take a hit, already feeling the affects of the alcohol mingle with the weed. You feel lighter and more comfortable. “You guys are fuckin’ whores,” he growls but he can't hide his smile as he stands up to strip for you and your friends. You turn away from him just as he goes to untuck his shirt, instead turning all of your attention to your boo. “Aww, I was hoping you’d pick a card,” you playfully whine, snugging into Keigo's arm.

You not-so-innocently push your breasts against his forearm, catching his attention. “You tryna get me to strip?” he chuckles, raising a brow at you. “Maybe later and then it’ll be all for you. Just be glad we’re not alone ‘cause this pretty bra would be off by now.” He glides a finger down the strap of your bra to one of the cups, staring intensely at the lace. “If you two are gonna do that, get a fuckin’ room,” Dabi interrupts.

You turn back to him and wish you didn’t: he stands before you in all of his semi-nakedness, jeans sagging low, bare skin and lean, inked muscle on display. “Daaaamn, you did get cut, Dabi!” Rumi hollers. “Just look at this fuckin’ guy!”

And you are. Your eyes roam over his toned abs and pectorals where you catch two nipple rings hanging from his pink nipples. His arms and right side are covered in tattoos along with his collarbone which holds his little brother’s (Shoto) name. You know that all of his siblings’ and mother’s name are tattooed on him; just not his father. Realizing how long you’ve been staring, you look away, instead staring down at the table. “Shit, I can beat that,” Keigo scoffs. “Just you wait.”

After twenty minutes of playing and the first round being completed, Keigo successfully stripped off his shirt and shoes before hurrying to the bathroom because of the alcohol. Meanwhile, Dabi is washing dishes and Rumi is scrolling through her phone and smoking on the last of the blunt, waiting for Keigo to come back so you can continue. You, luckily, only stripped off your top for the first round and quickly throw it back on before taking your glasses to the kitchen.

“I’m gonna go put these in the sink,” you announce and Rumi only hums in response. When you walk into the kitchen, you are met with Dabi’s muscular back and a large, snake-like dragon snaking from his lower back and curling up the back of his right forearm. It moves and flexes whenever his arms move, making his back muscles bulge.

Finding your voice, you greet him. “Hey, just came in to wash these.” He turns to look at you over his shoulder before nodding at the soapy, hot water in the sink. “Put ‘em over here; I’ve got it.” You do so, lowering the glasses on the counter for him to wash. You press your back against the counter’s edge, watching him. Silence swells around you, but this one isn’t comfortable; it’s awkward and heated, filled with tension. “It’s really good to see you, y’know,” you chirp, trying to ease the tension. “I was so upset you couldn’t make it for Christmas.”

Dabi puts a tray on the drying rack, focused yet still answering you. “Yeah, my CO was on my ass about that fight I had, but I wasn’t gonna miss this chance to smoke a good blunt and hang with you losers. Everyone seems to be so scared about my new body, includin’ you.” His blue eyes side-eye you, making your stomach flip. “I’m not!” you squeak. “It’s just a shock seeing you look so…” Sexy. “Big,” you decide. “But whatever trainer you got in prison, give them my number.”

He chuckles at this, the deep rumble making something swirl inside your gut. He then goes back to doing what he was doing, but only for a few seconds, until he speaks again. “What?” he finally asks. You blink at him. “What?” you dumbly parrot. He turns to you fully, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “I can feel you starin’ mad hard at me, Y/N. You’re not discreet in the slightest.” Again, you feel hot in your sweater with shame. At this rate, you may as well strip and throw yourself at him with how much you’re staring at him.

“Is that a new tattoo?” you tentatively ask, pointing at the dragon. “I don’t remember seeing that before.” Dabi hums out a yes as he dunks a mug into the soapy water. “Had it done a month ago durin’ one of my free days when I didn’t visit you or Hawks. It hurt like a bitch, but it looks decent, don’t it?” You slowly nod, admiring the way the dark green scales on the dragon compliment his skin. It reminds you so much of the dragon from the ‘Spirited Away’ movie, just darker. “It’s…beautiful,” you softly say, more to yourself than to him. And before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching out to drag your fingers down Dabi’s spine, making his body clench. “S-Sorry!” you stutter, snatching your hand away. “I should’ve asked to–“

“It’s fine,” he interrupts, but still looks perplexed. He looks as if he hasn’t been touched in years and isn’t sure how to handle it. But he shocks you when he turns his back to face you, giving you full advantage of his tattoo. “Touch it,” he encourages. “Y/N, it’s just me.” Right. This is just Touya Todoroki. Your friend since childhood. The same guy that was afraid of public pools, eats charred marshmallows, and loves his steak well-done. The friend you’ve been dying to get back since he joined LOV and have missed since he went to prison. And yet, looking at him now and feeling his warm skin under your fingertips when you touch him, you don’t see him as any of that. You see him much differently.

You run your hand over his back, feeling his muscles flex and his warm skin. He stands there, not speaking or moving, letting you touch him. It’s so intimate. So sensual. When you pull away, he finally turns to face you, his expression blank and eyes intense. His hand then moves to lightly touch your wrist, sending currents of electricity through you. “Yoooo!” Keigo’s call suddenly drifts in the kitchen, making you flinch and jump away from Dabi’s touch. He pokes his head into the kitchen, grinning. “I’m back!” he announces. “We ready for another round or what?”

Dabi smirks at his friend as if nothing happened. And nothing did…right? “Sure,” he replies. “Just let me pour us some shots first.” Keigo hums delightedly, practically floating into the kitchen. “Lemme help you. Baby, pass me that bag of lemons and limes in the fridge, please?” You do so, your hands trembling somewhat as you open the fridge and hand the bags of fruit to your boyfriend. “Thank you, darlin’,” he coos, winking at you. “Now go and sit down! Let your men take care of you.”

Your men. You can’t help but stay stuck on that as you quickly walk out of the kitchen, not once looking at Dabi. Rumi is still in the same position you left her in, laying on the floor on her phone. You nervously pick at a loose thread on your skinny jeans, keeping your voice low to avoid the guys hearing. “Rumi?” you softly question.

She looks up from her phone, blinking. “Hm?” she questionably hums. You sit down next to her, folding your knees under you. “Does Dabi seem…different…to you tonight?” you carefully ask, your words slow and deliberate, like you’re carefully picking each word like they are fruit.

Rumi stares at you, confused. “Uh…other than his new set of muscles and the tattoo, no.” She squints at you suspiciously, making you hot like a spotlight is on you now. “Why? Do you think they’re something different about him?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, unsure of how to answer. But this is Rumi! Your girl and confidant. She’d never judge you for anything. “He just seems more…attractive, I guess,” you shyly murmur.

She barely bats an eye. In fact, she smiles. “I figured there was a reason you were staring at him so hard tonight,” she chuckles, earning you a shocked look. “What, you thought I didn’t notice?” At the sight of your panic, she rubs your back. “Relax, girly. Keigo didn’t notice anything. That bird is in his fucking world tonight.”

Oh, yes, Keigo. Your boyfriend. Your very happy, amazing, wonderful boyfriend who is oh-so overjoyed that you’re all together here tonight. “God, I’m so stupid!” you groan, putting your head in your hands. “What am I doing? Here I am with one of the sexiest men in Japan and an amazing boyfriend, and yet, I’m eye-fucking our childhood friend!”

“Well, to be fair, you did say you wanted to try to do other things with Keigo in the bedroom,” Rumi says as she puffs on her blunt. “You remember tellin’ me about that threesome kink of yours? If you don’t, I’d understand. You were downing those cocktails like they were water.” You groan embarrassingly because yes, you do remember that night: it was a month ago before Thanksgiving when the moon was full, the night was young, and you were full of drinks during girls’ night. There, you spilled to Rumi, Nemuri, and Yu about your secret threesome kink and wanting so badly to ask Keigo to participate in one.

You can't help the way you get so wet at the thought of having two men please you or being one of the people to please them. You’ve had this fantasy for a while, dreaming of Keigo and another sexy, mystery man occupying your bed, hands and mouths all over you, two cocks inside you. But you’ve never brought it to Keigo’s attention. “Unfortunately, yes,” you sigh, “but that doesn’t mean I should be eyeing my own best friend!” You feel like crying, mostly because of the alcohol. “I feel like a slut,” you whimper. “And not in a good way.”

Noticing your internal fight, Rumi quickly steps in to ease your shitty feelings. “Personally, I don’t see what the big deal is. You just stared at the guy! You didn’t try to suck his dick or anything.” You flinch at her words, not wanting to picture that. “But if it’s really got your panties in a twist, just pull Keigo to the side and talk about it. Knowing his freak ass, he’ll probably be okay with it. He’d probably even suggest a threesome himself.” She gives you a sly smirk to which you roll your eyes at. “No way,” you scoff in disbelief.

“Mark my words,” she giggles. “Personally, I approve of this sluttiness in you, girl. I think you should fuck both of them to really end this year with a bang.” You could've strangled her right then. “You’re not helping!” you growl, swatting her hand away as she cackles. “Not helping with what?” Keigo asks, making you squeak in surprise. You turn, seeing him and Dabi standing behind you carrying a tray of tequila shots. “U-Uh, with my cards!” you quickly reply. “She won’t show me how to shuffle ‘em.”

You turn to Rumi with a glare, making her crack up even more.

After almost two hours of playing, stripping, drinking, smoking, and shooting the shit, things start to finally wind down an hour before midnight. Rumi is fast asleep on the couch, snuggled into her pillow and softly snoring, while Dabi has ventured outside to have a smoke. He sits in the cold December air in only his jeans and socks. You don’t ask him if he’s cold, knowing he’ll refuse his shirt or a blanket. You take it upon yourself to clean up before tomorrow morning, washing dishes and wiping down the counters. You plan on making a big New Year’s Day breakfast for your friends––blueberry pancakes, eggs, and plenty of mimosas.

You’re just about to rinse the soap off of your hands in the sink when you suddenly feel two arms slink around your waist and a very hard chest press into your back. Keigo's scent of cinnamon and Burberry cologne enchants your nostrils. “There you are, baby bird,” he murmurs. “Where’d you run off to?” You smile, pressing back into him. “Just to clean up so we don’t have to worry about it in the morning.” You turn around in his arms, noticing his hooded gaze and lopsided smirk. “Somebody’s drunk,” you giggle.

He hums in agreement and presses his hips into you where you feel a very noticeable hard-on. “And very, very hard for you,” he softly growls in your ear. “I know you can feel me pressin’ up against you right now.” And you can; it’s impossible not to. Immediately, your body temperature rises and you feel a tingle between your legs. His hands move under his sweater draped over your body and glide up and down your sides, his fingertips gliding against your skin. He whistles as he does so, somehow making that tingling sensation even more intense. “You have the sexiest body, baby, I swear,” he sighs. “I’m so fuckin’ lucky. You make me so horny every time I see you, but without the clothes? That’s even better!”

His compliment makes you bashfully giggle, always loving to receive such love and admiration from your man. “Thank you, baby,” you shyly reply. “The feeling is mutual.” You stroke your hands up his naked chest as he kisses you, playfully and passionately. He begins to walk forward, pushing you against the counter and trapping you between it and him. You’re now at his total mercy, his mouth and hands all over you, the taste of wine and cinnamon on his tongue as he swirls it with yours. Soft moans mingle in the air between you, only heard by your and his ears alone…though soon, if you keep this up, someone may become privy to what’s happening in the kitchen just a few steps from them in the living room.

Reading your mind, Keigo pulls away and runs a thumb over your bottom lip. “Let’s go upstairs,” he says, a suggestive smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t wanna waste this moment. Don’t worry; Rumi is dead on our couch and Dabi is on the balcony. They won’t hear a thing.”

You believe the part about Rumi after being her roomie for so long, but Dabi? What if he does hear you? You wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable enough to leave. But with the way Keigo is giving you such a heated stare, you can’t resist. So you go with him, listening to your pussy instead of your head. You let him steal you away and lead you upstairs to your shared bedroom by your hand, softly giggling to each other as you walk past Rumi sound asleep.

As soon as you’re inside the room, alone at last, Keigo shuts the door behind him and uses his wings to wrap around you. He drags you into his body and arms, crushing his lips to yours in another passionate kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck and his wrap around your waist, both of you locked together in an embrace as you kiss, and kiss, and kiss. The more you do, the wetter you get until your body is begging for more. Keigo’s lips leave yours to busy on your neck.

“I can’t get over how sexy you are,” he murmurs. “I would’ve rathered you strip for me instead of our friends.” He pauses for a moment, pulling away to stare at you, befuddled. Then a secretive smile pulls at his lips.

“Actually, you can do that for me now,” he chuckles and pulls himself away from you. You resist the urge to follow him, instead staring at him across the room, burning up for him.

“Y’see, baby, I feel like since the holidays, we’ve barely had much time to be together, just you and I,” he lustfully explains. “But now, here we are alone, and I wanna take advantage of it. So I’m gonna sit here”–he pauses to sit on the bench at the foot of your king-sized bed, smirking–“and you’re gonna strip for me.” He takes his phone and plays a song for you––“Can I” by Kehlani––and leans back, legs spread.

He doesn’t explain anything more to you. Neither one of you talk. The only sounds are of the TV softly playing from downstairs and the music playing on his phone. You feel nervous, the alcohol’s magic beginning to ware off. But something in the way Keigo stares you down has you moving, giving him exactly what he wants. You let the music take control of your body, letting your hips sway and your fingers play with the edges of Keigo's sweater. You slowly, tantalizingly, slip it up your body to reveal your bra and discard it. Then off comes your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping your fly before sloooowly dragging it down your legs to reveal your naked thighs and lace panties.

You can practically hear Keigo salivating at the sight of you as you twirl for him, bending over and moving your ass in his face. You flip your hair and look over your shoulder, becoming the woman he is seeking tonight: a vixen. A slut. Because that’s all you want to be tonight for him too. Turning around, you walk over to him, relishing his gaze upon you, and grasp his shoulders before hooking one leg over his lap. You take a seat and begin to grind yourself into his lap, causing your knee to brush against his crotch. He groans softly as your knee caresses his hardened cock, his hands gripping your hips. “Fuck, baby,” he groans. “That feels so good.”

You feel the same, biting your lip at the pleasurable sensations of his thigh rubbing against your pantyliner. “I think it’d feel even better with these off,” you giggle, tugging at his shirt. You stare down at him through your lashes, a sexy smile pulling at your lips. “Don’t you wanna join me?” You’ve never seen Keigo move so fast before, even while fighting villains. Instantly, his shirt is off and you help him out of his pants until is just in his briefs. He then hooks his hands under your ass and hikes you up, your arms and legs wrapping around him instinctively.

Then you’re soaring through the air and bouncing onto the mattress, the air leaving your lungs. “Get your pretty ass up there,” he grunts, grinning at the sound of your laughter.

He swoops down onto you, pressing a kiss to your lips as his chain necklaces press against your bosom, cold metal against heated skin. He pulls away to press kisses down your legs and thighs, prying them open to get a good look at what lies in between. He hums appreciatively at your scent and the sight of red against your brown skin and juicy thighs.

“Mmm, someone’s excited,” he chuckles. He glides one finger over your panty line, soaked through. You moan at the slight contact, your toes curling. “Whatchu want me to do?” he teasingly asks, smirking down at you.

He begins to rub a thumb over your clit, causing your panties to become wetter and more uncomfortable.

“Kei,” you whimper. “Please.” Keigo’s eyes grow darker, his wings fluffier. “That’s not what I asked,” he teasingly yet firmly states. “C’mon, mama, give me your words. Tell me what you want Daddy to do.” He then ducks down to press an open-mouthed kiss to your clit, nearly making you jump straight out of your skin.

“Taste me,” you whisper. “Put this pussy in your mouth. Please, Keigo, I’m begging y–!” Before you can finish, your boyfriend is already pulling down your panties, pressing his tongue against your clit and sucking gently on the little bundle of nerves.

Keigo is a certified master at eating pussy. He puts his whole mouth on it, in it, swirling his tongue and flicking it just right against your clit. He holds you open, spreading your thighs apart as he laps at your cunt and even your asshole (because he’s also an ass man). He eats up all of your holes, eagerly licking, sucking, and lapping at them until you’re moaning, whimpering, gasping for air. You see stars behind your eyelids and your body twists against the comforter neatly spread across the bed. Your hands grasp his golden strands of hair as you feel your first orgasm quickly dawning, rising to reach its peak.

You can’t keep quiet––your sounds of utter pleasure release out of you, bouncing off of the walls. “F-Fuck, Keigo!” you sob, not even realizing how loud you are. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s so good! I’m gonna cum, baby! I’m gonna cum! I’m…I’m–“

Knock, knock. A gasp erupts from you as your heartbeat accelerates at the sound of the bedroom door. “Yeah?” Keigo asks, not even sounding scared or impatient. The door opens and there appears Dabi. He doesn’t even blink at the fact that you’re semi-naked. “If you two were tryin’ to be secretive, you’re not doin’ a good job at all,” he blandly says. “Y'all are loud as fuck. I could hear you all the way downstairs.”

You try to squirm away, but Keigo holds you still, his hands still pinning your thighs open. “Oh, forreal?” he laughs as if this whole thing is funny. “Sorry, man. It’s just been a while for us.” He gazes down at you before looking back at Dabi, smirking. “Well, since you’re here, you wanna join in or just watch?” You stare at your boyfriend like he just lost his last few braincells. “Keigo, what the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss. “Are you crazy?! Why would you even ask him that?!”

“I actually wouldn’t mind either,” Dabi announces, shocking and confusing you even further. His head cocks to the side, looking at your spread open pussy from another angle. “Seein’ her spread out like this is a definite treat…though I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t want a taste either.” His eyes, blue and intense, tick up to meet yours, nearly stopping your heart. “And you’d like that too, wouldn’t you, doll?”

You’re in such shock that if it isn’t for the eye contact, you wouldn’t realize he is talking to you. This is just too weird. You feel like you’re dreaming, like none of this is real. The two begin to chuckle lightly at your reaction, as if this is some inside joke to them…is it? “Baby, it’s okay,” Keigo chuckles, gently stroking your stomach. “Relax. Dabi is here for a reason.” You stare at your boyfriend, eyes wide and absolutely speechless.

“I’ve been noticing tonight how much you’ve been eyeing him, and that’s okay,” Keigo further explains. “He happens to have been doing the same thing, haven’t you, D?”

Your eyes widen even more as Dabi steps into the room, shutting the door behind him, wearing an expression close to lust. “He knows all about us wanting to spice things up more in the bedroom, even suggesting ways to excite you.” A smirk grows on Keigo’s face, one that makes you scared. “I also let him in on your little secret.”

He and Dabi share a look and you instantly know what he means. ‘Oh, no,’ you think, horrified. ‘He knows. How could he know?’

Keigo is happy to explain it to you. “You happened to have left your browser open on your phone one morning when you took a shower.” A twinkle appears in his golden irises. “Imagine my shock when I saw a video of a girl clearly getting fucked silly by two dudes.” Heat immediately envelopes you and you hide your face in your hands. “Baby, don’t be embarrassed!” he laughs. “I think it’s hot, but I can see why you didn't tell me. I can be very possessive, can’t I?”

You simply look up at him, not responding, but you don’t have to. You both know he is. He’ll glare down any man who even looks your way when you’re out and about on the street. Which is why it’s so shocking to you that he would agree to share you with a whole other man. “Well, I took some time to think it over and I realized that the idea of watchin’ you suckin’ another man’s cock made me cum a lot harder than I ever have before one night.”

He smirks at you, loving the way you sharply inhale at the thought. “So I ran it by Dabi and chose him as he is the only person I trust enough to touch you and take care of my girl the way I can.” He sits back on his hands, staring down at you with utter care and affection. “But the ball is in your court, baby bird. You don’t have to say yes if this is too weird or too uncomfortable for you. Even if you say yes, you can always say no.”

Then it’s Dabi’s turn to be caring and affectionate. “I won’t touch you until you ask me, doll,” he firmly says. “Like the bird brain said, this is your decision to make. And before you ask, I don't think this will fuck up our friendship in the slightest. I’ve always had a thing for you, especially after that kiss we had with that stupid bottle game.” You blink at him, suddenly dizzy.

“But you’re too pure to deal with my crazy ass,” he chuckles. “So I figured Hawks would be a better fit for you, and he is.” His blue eyes sparkle with something––love? Lust?––that nearly steals your breath away. “But I can still fuck you and show you how much I value you.” His hand moves to gently settle on your thigh, never moving farther than that. “Is that okay?” he asks in a voice so unlike his own. It is very soft and careful as if you are a spooked animal he is trying to calm.

Is that okay? They could simply take you right here, right now, but they don’t. Neither one of them even touches you, letting you give them the green light. You can hardly contain yourself, feeling so aroused and oh-so loved that you could burst. So you sit up and toss your arms around Dabi, immediately pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss. A surprised moan leaves his lips, shocked at your boldness, before he melts into the kiss and lets his hands settle on your waist.

When you pull away, both of you are panting heavily and overcome with need. “Fuck me,” you whisper. You turn to Keigo, seeing that he is just as needy as you are. “Both of you. Right now.”

Your boys don’t need to be told twice. Dabi immediately goes back to kissing you stupid while Keigo presses kisses and forms love bites on your neck, stealing silent gasps and whimpers away from your mouth and into Dabi’s as he does. Dabi’s and your tongues swirl together, cold against hot, especially when you feel the nub of something cold and steely attached to his tongue.

You pull away, perplexed, and he gives a sexy, throaty chuckle before spitting his tongue out at you. There, you see a black studded piercing embedded into the pink muscle. You nearly cum right there. “Please,” you whimper as Dabi begins to kiss down your neck and breasts. “Fuck me.” You roll your hips into Dabi’s, earning a throaty groan in response.

“So eager, right?” Keigo chuckles, grinning at Dabi. “Not yet, love dove. First, Dabi needs to have a chance to play with you. Get that bra off of her, D.” He flicks his chin at his friend, impatient. Dabi doesn’t need any other pushing. He unhooks your bra from the front, letting the cups fall free to reveal your gorgeous breasts and hardened nipples. The two men groan at the sight of them––the prettiest, ripest fruit they’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing and tasting. Each attach their lips to your nipples, hungrily lapping and licking at the hardened peaks of your nipples.

Keigo watches your face, transfixed by the way your pretty features contort in pleasure at the feeling of two mouths on your sensitive nipples. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs. His compliment makes you wetter than before and soon, you can’t control yourself. Your hands grasp their scalps, running through their hair, and your toes curl as the pleasure travels downward to your pussy. “Kei,” you whimper. “T-Touya.” The white-haired stud softly growls at his birth name being uttered from your lips, leading him to grip your ass as he continues to suck at your nipple.

Impatient, you go to grasp their cocks in their pants, but Keigo moves your hands away. “Uh-uh, mama,” he chuckles, giving you a lopsided smirk. “We’ve first gotta play with this gorgeous pussy. You okay with sharing her kitty, D?”

Dabi looks like he was waiting for Keigo to mention something about your cunt. He pulls away from your nipple, a string of saliva connecting to his bottom lip. “Long as I get to make her cum, I’m down.” His eyes cut away from staring deep into yours to glare at Keigo. “Just don't get in my fuckin’ way and we won’t have a problem.” Keigo only laughs and pats the space on the mattress beside you. “On your knees, baby. Face down, ass up.”

Helpless to resist their hungered stares, you do as your man orders and position yourself on your knees with your ass hiked up in the air, right in your friend’s face. You barely have time to feel embarrassed before a hand connects to your asscheek. Smack! You whine at the sharp sting. “Sorry,” Keigo sniggers. “My hand slipped.”

Dabi groans at your reaction, visibly turned on by you. You. “I knew she liked it rough,” he comments, his voice strained. “Mind if I try?” Keigo must obviously give him the go because you feel his hand, rougher from his burn scars, slap your ass too. Smack! You gasp, taken aback by the bite of pain…and the pleasure that comes with it.

“Shiiit, that was nothing,” Keigo tuts. “Put some force in it, Dabs.” Smack! Keigo does it this time, putting more force into his hit just to spite Dabi. You clench your teeth at the sting, feeling like your ass is on fire. “Like that?” Dabi blandly asks, scoffing. “You barely made it jiggle.”

Smack! Smack! Smack! The two smack your ass like they’re landlords and your ass is a tenant who owes them rent money. They relish the sweet gasps and whines that leave your mouth with each assault on your asscheeks, damn near leaving handprints in their wake. They love how much you love this, the little masochist you are.

Finally, when you’re a panting mess on the bed, Keigo stops the punishment. “That’s enough for now. Her poor pussy can't take much more.” His finger lightly brushes against your oozing, gushing pussy who always betrays you as a slut. “Let’s see whose tongue makes you cum the hardest,” Dabi softly growls. “But I’ll warn you, baby doll: this tongue piercing always seems to make pussies cum before they’re ready.” He chuckle is a promise to you that has your heart pounding and clit jumping in excitement.

And boy, is it a promise. Once your panties are off, his tongue touches your clit and slides inside your pussy. And it’s over for you. His tongue piercing is a perfect mix of cold that adds to the intensity of his hot tongue and mouth sucking and lapping at your pussy. He does it like he’s been doing this all his life, similar to Keigo but quicker, less gentle. At this point, a new song has begun to play from Keigo’s phone––“Moodswings” by Pop Smoke––and Dabi’s broad tongue strokes match the tempo, making you see stars. “God, Dabi!” you moan, gripping the comforter below you. “That feels so good!”

Though it’s hot to Keigo too, he isn't too keen on his friend hogging his pussy. “Bitch,” he growls, “I’m here too. At least lemme suck on this pretty asshole. And yes, she likes that too.” Dabi pauses, staring at you then at the winged hero in shock. “Fuck, Kei, you’ve got a real freak on your hands,” he exhales in disbelief, earning a laugh from both of them at your expense.

Then Keigo’s hands are spreading your asscheeks apart and his tongue is lapping at your puckered asshole. You’re whining and sobbing into the mattress, fingers clenching the comforter so tight that your knuckles turn pale. Then they switch, Dabi eating your ass while Keigo gulps down your pussy, giving you softer yet eager tongue flicks against your clit.

“You like this, baby?” he asks, his words muffled by his tongue in your little hole. “You like gettin’ both of your holes fucked? Mmm, I know you do. That body is tellin’ us everything we need to know.” And it is: you can’t stop tossing your ass back and grinding your hips into their mouths, desperate for more. When your orgasm begins to rise, it is intense and builds in your core, threatening to spill over.

“Oh, sh-sh-shit!” you squeal, pushing your ass and pussy into their faces. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum! You’re both gonna make me cum!”

“Do it then,” Dabi demands, now licking on your pussy. “Cum down my fuckin’ throat.” Keigo whines in protest, pulling away from your ass to busy himself stroking your clit with two fingers. “No, baby,” he mumbles. “Cum for me. Cum for your man…please?”

Both of them watch you as you cum all over yourself and them, filling their mouths with your taste. Your orgasm is intense; earth-shattering. It makes your body shake and quiver and stars explode behind your eyelids. A loud whine that you barely recognize as your voice escapes you as you let go of every bit of sanity and control you have left.

When you’re finally done, the duo laps greedily at your juices, earning soft sighs and whimpers of protest in response to them overstimulating you. “Fuckin’ move, Dabi,” Keigo growls, growing impatient. “You’re hoggin’ all of her up! Don’t forget, you burnt bitch: that’s my pussy you’re eating.” You look back at them now, breathing heavily. Dabi pulls away from your cunt to chuckle at his friend, his lips shining with your juices. “Tell that to her. She seems like she likes this piercing an awful lot.” He spits his tongue out at Keigo, teasingly wiggling it at him.

And then you get an awfully devious, nasty idea in your head at the sight of that sinful piercing: “Is this pierced too?” you innocently ask. The song switches now––“Touch It” by DVSN––and it immediately changes the atmosphere in the room to something way nastier and intimate than before.

Dabi and Keigo stare at you in silent awe, both clearly aroused by your change in demeanor. Dabi smirks, taking your hand and placing it on his crotch. “You tryna find out, baby doll?” he gravely asks, tracing a finger over your cheek. You shiver in delight at his touch.

“Is your man okay with that?” he asks, questionably looking at Keigo. You look too, asking with your eyes. “Only if you’re okay with sharing,” he chuckles, “but something tells me you’re just as eager to see her take two dicks as I am.”

Seeing the look in his eyes and how ruffled his wings have gotten, you can tell he is worked up, so you hurry to coax him closer to you. Soon, they are both sitting on their knees above you while you sit low on your knees on the mattress, your feet curled underneath your butt. “You two are wearin’ way too much,” you sternly say. “I want both of you naked. Now.”

They smirk at your bold request but hurry to fill it, fingers working at their flies and peeling off their tops. You help them each, damn near gasping at how much sexiness is in front of you once they’re down to their boxers.

Though they are both lean with hard muscle, toned arms, and bite-worthy thighs, they have their differences too: Keigo has smooth, tanned skin that is accentuated by the gold chain hanging from his neck and a few tattoos here and there inked across his skin.

Meanwhile, Dabi has pale skin that is inked with tatts and scarred and bumpy with burns and staples. He has nipple piercings that wink at you and a happy trail of white hairs that lead down to his toned V-line. “Not the prettiest sight, I know,” he lightly laughs, but you can tell he’s ashamed of the way he looks away from you.

You make it your mission to make him feel otherwise. Standing higher up on your knees, you press your lips to his and stroke your hands over his stomach. “You’re so sexy,” you purr. You turn to Keigo, pressing a hand to his chest to feel his heart beat against your fingertips. “Both of you are,” you sigh dreamily. “I’m such a lucky bitch.” They silently laugh, their eyes aglow with lust as you begin to work their boxers down with both hands.

Then you’re faced with two big dicks in your face. Your eyes widen at the sight of Dabi, noticing how he curves upward and is slightly longer than Keigo. The cock head is an angry red, while Keigo’s is pinker, pre-cum dripping from the tip for you. You have no idea how you’re going to handle both of them at the same time, but you surprise even yourself when you spit into your hands and begin to stroke them both, getting a feel of both of them in your hands. Their soft moans coax you to continue, your body relishing the way they sound. “Such a big girl takin’ two big dicks at the same time,” Keigo hums, watching you stroke him and his best friend.

Dabi watches too, his bottom lip caught between his teeth at the way you gently run your thumb across his head. “Careful now, baby bird,” Keigo chuckles. “He’s sensitive there.” The white-haired man glares at his friend though not as hostile because of how good your soft, little hand feels stroking his dick. “Fuck you,” he growls.

“Just lookin’ out for you, bro,” Keigo chuckles. He takes a lockful of your hair and pulls your face back, making you look at him. As you softly gasp at the sensation of your hair being tugged back, Keigo’s cock twitches in your hand. “Now show our friend how good you are at suckin’ dick,” he demands with a smile.

You don’t hesitate to do so, quickly opening your mouth and swallowing Dabi’s dick. You suck, gargle, and gag on it. You lick from base to tip, stroke his balls with one hand while stroking his dick with your throat. Dabi is gobsmacked by how good you are, his hand gripping your hair and his pretty eyes rolling to the back of his head. He can’t get enough of how tight and wet your throat is, mumbling about it through heavy pants.

“Go on, bro,” Keigo encourages him. “Fuck her up. Her throat is there for a reason.” And so he does, thrusting into your tempting throat while you force yourself to take him, no matter how much your jaw aches and tears sting your eyes. You love seeing him feel good. You feel the same for Keigo when you switch to him next, taking him deep as he fucks your throat with slow, deliberate strokes that would no doubt draw long moans out of you if he were inside of you.

You repeat this, alternating between stroking one and sucking the other, coating their cocks in your spit that collects in your mouth and drips down your chin. You stare into their eyes, adoring how they stare upon you so intensely, so lustfully. They each give you words of dirty praise though different. Keigo is sweet, stroking your hair back as you take his cock. “Good girl,” he praises. “Such a good girl for me.”

Meanwhile, Dabi’s praise is full of degradation as his hand yanks on your hair and his balls hit your chin.

“Good fuckin’ slut,” he groans. “How are you so good at this shit?” He pulls out of your mouth suddenly, letting you breathe. “Open your mouth,” he demands. You do so, sticking your tongue out. He tilts your chin up before spitting a wallop of saliva into your mouth, much to your pussy’s delight. “Now spit it back on that dick,” he orders which you do, spitting it back onto his cock before slurping it up and letting it lube him up so it’s easier to take him into your throat again.

Keigo yanks you back to him and sticks his cock back in your mouth, laughing at your surprised mewl. By this time, the song has changed and “OTW” by Jhene Aiko and Mila J is filling the bedroom. Keigo thrusts into your mouth according to the tempo, grinning at how you struggle with his long strokes. “Don’t stop now, cutie,” he chuckles. “You asked for this and now you’re gettin’ it. Don’t disappoint us.” The two evilly laugh at your expense, loving how hard you’re finding it to take a breath.

And you are. The more dick you take, the more you’re finding it difficult to breathe or recover. Your mouth is coated in spit and your throat feels raw from it constantly being fucked…but it also feels damn good. You love that you’re the one making them feel good. No one else. This only becomes realer for you when Keigo feels himself getting close and slides out of your mouth. “Fuck, I’m ‘bout to cum!” he grunts, but slows his hand down so he doesn’t pump cum in your face. “No, not yet. I need to be inside you for that.”

Excitement zings through you. Finally! What you’ve been waiting for! “I’m cool with just fuckin’ her throat till I bust,” Dabi pants, lazily stroking his cock. “That is your girl, after all. And this feels way too good to give up.” He is not just referring to your heavenly mouth and throat, but to your soft hands that leave the mattress every so often to stroke up and down his chest and stomach. He takes one of them and presses it to his lips, a change to his rough demeanor while he was fucking your face.

“Thanks, bro,” Keigo says with a grin “I’m dying to see how she’ll take all that cum down your throat.” Dabi smirks, looking down at you looking absolutely wrecked (so far). “You think you’ve had two big dicks, baby doll?” he asks, grinning evilly at you. “You haven’t seen shit yet.” You’re almost afraid to find out, but you know you’re too late to turn back now when Keigo positions you. He hikes your ass up and gives your ass a smack before his cock is sheathing inside of you without warning.

You gasp, your mouth open wide at the searing pleasure you feel. Dabi takes advantage of this, sliding his cock back inside of your mouth and freely fucking your throat while Keigo begins to follow suit, following the same tempo his friend does: rough and hard.

Keigo grips your tits as they swing and your ass as it jiggles against him with every thrust. “How’s this, hm?” he teasingly asks. “How’s this for takin’ two cocks, huh?” You mumble nonsense against Dabi’s cock, earning a panty laugh from your mutual friend. “Can’t even speak ‘cause both of your holes are filled to the brim,” he laughs. “I’d feel bad if your throat didn’t feel so fuckin’ good, shit…”

He fucks your mouth a little faster, making his heavy balls slap against your chin and the bed creak with the force of two men fucking you at the same time. Your jaw begins to intensely ache with how much Dabi is filling your throat and you try to ease back to allow yourself some comfort, but Keigo takes that as you losing focus.

“C’mon, mama, don’t leave me out,” he pouts, giving your ass another sharp smack. “Throw that ass back for me. Fuck me back. Show me how much you love this.” And, like a little doll being controlled, you do so, tossing your ass back into him to shove his cock deeper inside of you. “There we go,” he moans. “That’s perfect. You’re perfect…our perfect girl.”

You swear you nearly squirt when he says this. Being between them, getting your brains fucked out by them, you feel as if you are their perfect girl only. You are there to please them, and they you. You want this moment to last forever, but as their thrusts in unison begin to quicken and their moans intensify, you can tell that your end is about to be reached. Keigo presses a kiss to your back, buried to the hilt inside your pussy. “We love you so much, y’know that?” he pants. “We fuckin’ adore you, Y/N.”

“So much!” Dabi grunts, pulling out to tap his dick against your lips and chin. “You’re the best little slut for us.” You whimper at their words, your pussy quivering and clenching around the big cock inside of you. “Think we can make her cum at midnight sharp, D?” Keigo chuckles, realizing that you’re close. “I wanna ring in the new year the right way.” Dabi only mischievously grins, wordlessly agreeing to the naughty act of celebration.

The song switches to something smooth and relaxing yet adds to the intensity of your end––“Sit On It” by Jazmine Sullivan and Ari Lennox––and it doesn't take long for the duo to begin to feel their orgasms coming. “God fuckin’ dammit, I’m ‘bout to cum,” Dabi groans, feral and losing control. “Take me deep, baby doll. Deep down that slutty throat.”

Keigo tugs on your hair as he grips your hip with the other hand, railing you into the mattress. “M’close too,” he warns. “I can tell you’re gonna cum too, baby bird. Are we gonna make that little pussy cum?” His hand loops between your thighs to rub at your clit, each circle to makes with his fingers pushing you closer to the edge of no return. Dabi’s dick slips out of your mouth, letting you take a breath and utter your arrival. “K-Kei!” you sob. “T-Touya, please! I’m gonna cum!”

As the music plays, something breaks through to mingle with it: all around you––on the TV downstairs, outside your balcony, through the walls next door––people begin to countdown from ten till midnight. Till the new year. You were getting fucked so good that you nearly forgot it’s NYE.

Ten.

Nine.

“There’s the countdown,” Keigo moans, quickening his pace and nailing your G-spot again and again. “C’mon and cum with us, baby. We’ve got you. It’s okay.”

Eight…

Seven.

Six.

Grunts, groans, and the sound of skin slapping against skin fill the bedroom as you get closer to your climax. “Cum, baby!” Keigo demands, gripping onto you tight as he pummels into your pussy. “Cum while I fill you up.”

Five.

Four.

Three.

“Cum all over that dick, baby doll,” Dabi growls into your ear as he shoves his cock deeper down your throat, prepared to fill it up. “Do it. Make us proud, Y/N.”

Two.

One.

Zero.

Happy New Year!

Cheers, applause, and the sound of makeshift fireworks and poppers fill the tense air, making you feel as if all of this is happening because you’re cumming for your boys as much as they want you to. Because you're doing as they told you to.

As soon as the countdown reaches one, you gush around Keigo’s cock just as he fills you up, digging his fingers into the flesh of your ass as he does. Dabi joins you both, cumming down your throat, his deep, guttural grunts mixing with Keigo’s louder, high-pitched moans. You scream around Dabi’s cock as your orgasm takes your body and propels it through the skies. You’re soaring, flying above the clouds. You feel like you could touch the stars with how good you feel.

But just as quickly as it comes, it fades, deliciously so. You ride the wave for a couple of minutes with Keigo and Dabi whose thrusts slow and grow sloppier the more they try to chase that high. “Fuck me,” Keigo sighs as he gently pulls out of your tight hole, groaning at how his cum drips out of you and down your thighs. You reach back to stroke the buttery-soft feathers of his wings, helping him ride out that wave of bliss, pleased with the soft whimpers he gives you.

Dabi slides out of your mouth, leaving cum and spit staining your lips and chin. He wipes it away with his thumbs, letting you suck on them when they linger close to your mouth. Keigo moves to pause his music, the air now filled with your soft panting and the muffled sounds from the TV and your neighbors.

When your orgasm finally fades, you settle onto your elbows, finally able to rest. You feel achy and sore yet immensely satisfied. You can hardly believe it. You just had your first threesome with your boyfriend and childhood friend. “Wow,” you sigh. It’s all you can say. Keigo grins down at you, sitting back on his hands, glinting in sweat and his semi-hard cock splayed out in front of you. “Right?” he chuckles. “That’s the only word to describe it. You alright, Dabi?”

You look over to the ex-villain who is lying on his back next to you, looking content. “Never better,” he softly sighs. “I haven’t came that hard in ages.” Keigo sniggers, winking at him. “Told you she’s good,” he chuckles and the fact that he’s talked about your skills makes you flush. “Never did I think I’d fuck my boyfriend and my friend at the same time,” you giggle, mostly at the absurdness of it. Talk about ending the night with a bang.

“And now you’re about to cuddle with ‘em,” Keigo adds. Dabi side eyes him to which Keigo returns it. “What? Do emotionally damaged, bad boys not like cuddles?” He snuggles in next to you on your right, helping you turn around so you’re facing his chest and handsome face.

You look back at Dabi, hoping your backside and puppy dog eyes will reel him in. “Please, Dabi?” you innocently beg, staring up at him through your lashes.

Fortunately, your ass and eyes win him over. “Such a baby,” he sighs with an eye roll, but snuggles up behind you anyway, his hand laying lazily on your thigh. “You need to stop spoilin’ her so damn much, bird brain,” he criticizes Keigo who laughs, having no intention of stopping.

For a while, the three of you lay in complete silence, no words needed. Dabi strokes up and down your side, starting from your hip to your calve and back up again. Keigo presses kisses to your cheek and forehead, his fingers drawing shapes on your back. You press a hand to his beating heart and play with his necklace, breathing in both him and Dabi’s mingling scents. “This was so, so nice,” you hum, content and satisfied. “Thank you both so much for this. I love you both so much.”

Keigo presses another chaste kiss to your cheek, his touch as soft as a butterfly’s wings. “And we love you too,” he murmurs into your hair. Dabi doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t have to. The kiss he leaves on your shoulder blade is all the confirmation you need that the feeling is mutual.

Knock, knock, knock! You startle, jumping out of your skin as you and the boys look toward the bedroom door. Keigo shields you with his wings immediately, your entire body covered with red feathers.

“And I love y’all too,” Rumi calls through the door, "but you freaky motherfuckers woke me up! And I missed the countdown! At least wake me up with your fucking before midnight!”

You, Keigo, and Dabi silently look at each other before erupting into laughter. “Sorry, cotton tail,” Keigo laughs despite Rumi cussing outside the bedroom door. “Oh, and before we forget…”

He and Dabi slowly move in and each press a kiss to your cheeks. “Happy New Year,” they say in unison.

THE END.

#bnha smut #smutty smut #black fanfic writer #my works #my fic shit #black coded reader #black writers #hawks x black reader #keigo takami x black reader #dabi x black!reader #dabihawks #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #hawks x black!reader

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tanthamoretober · 6 months

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As Tanthamoretober fades into Never Not Commenting November (watch this space) lets have a massive show of appreciation (via comments! Because comments!) for all our writers, artists and even musicians who were involved!

Our Authors and prompts (all links go to AO3)

Anarik or @theanarik Two fics One for the prompts: harvest, witchcraft and voyeurism One for the prompts: festival, wet, voyeurism, mistaken identity

Cailean or @jalehh Four fics One series, evolution to progress, prompts: bondage and impact play One for the prompt: first time One for the prompt: injury

Geek_and_Nina or @geek-and-nina Thirty-four fics! One series, Show Don't Tell, deaf Kit au. One series The Laughing Whale, siren/pirate au Pretty much every single prompt we could think of!

Haruka81 or @rukaroggy One fic, five chapters For the prompt: injury

Jad3dEt3rnal or @jad3det3rnal One fic For the prompts: the lights go out, magic, full moons

Jayenator565 or @jayenator565 One fic For the prompt: monsters (vampire Jade!)

KitsKat18 One fic For the prompt: haunted house

lowkeyed1 or @lowkeyed1 Eight fics in the series, Tanthamoretober Crack Fics Multiple prompts in each installment!

myrebelliousphase or @myrebelliousphase One fic For the prompt: biting (more vampire Jade!)

Nunspringa One fic For the prompts: haunted house and possession/exorcism

OnlySheStandsThere or @onlyshestandsthere One fic, two chapters (so far) For the prompt: black cat (werecat!Kit!)

pirateygoodness or @swashbucklery Three fics One for the prompts: Monsters (werewolves), dry humping, overcast morning, rainy day, underneath the sky, full moons One for the prompt: nestled under blankets, with traces of exhibitionism One for the prompt: black cat

rochke11 or @commanderbuffy One fic, two chapters (so far) For the prompt: killers

saltywaves or @shellyseashell One fic For the prompts: witchcraft/magic, cursed location, voices in your head, possession

Silver85 or @wigster07 Twenty-four fics Nineteen fics in the series Loving Me Loving You, (AWOOOO) hitting most prompts almost daily! Three fics in the Alpha Kit series for the prompts: Omegaverse and mirror sex, and jumping in a leaf pile One surprise epilogue for Architect of Catastrophe for the prompts: kissing in the rain and softness/tenderness As well as a co-written fic with rochke11 for the prompt: killers

slvershdws Two fics for the series Endearing Idiots One with ten chapters, each chapter for a different prompt: making caramel/candy apples, seasonable garments, pumpkin spice, bobbing for apples, rainy day, warm drinks, nestled under blankets, kissing in the rain, dead end, and costume party One for the prompt: first time

sofys37 or @blackdalek Three fics Two for the series Andowyne by Night, for the prompts: monsters (vampire Kit!), and comes back wrong One for the prompts: fireside, something in the woods, and wet

spybrarian or @spybrarian Five fics One for the prompt: exorcism/possession One for the prompt: dungeon Three for the series There's not a step we can take that does not bring us closer and the prompts: knife play, fireside, first time, wax play

StorySpinner_91 or @storyspinner91 Two fics One for the prompt: autumn foliage One (drabble!) for the prompt: double penetration

TheArcher or @bisexualshakespeare Four fics in the Harvest Festival series One for the prompts: first time, 69, and autumn foliage One for the prompts: long distance, mirror sex, voyeurism, magic, dominance/submission, full moon One for the prompts: biting, dominance/submission, face sitting One for the prompts: caramel apples and harvest ride

TheLateNightStoryTeller or @evodevo-geekmonkey One fic, nine chapters For the prompts: killers, witchcraft/magic, stalking, the Wyrm, help isn't coming, cursed person, mask, found footage, something in the woods

TheyAreSoGay or @theyaresogay One fic, three chapters (so far) For the prompts: festival and autumn breezes

ThisIsHelvetica or @this-is-helvetica One fic For the prompt: witchcraft/magic

Our Artists and prompts (links to tumblr)

@rghema Three sweet comics For the prompts: making caramel/candy apples, baking pies, and abduction

@jlmichigan Willow as bots text post series For many, many prompts through the month!

Our Music Composer (links to tumblr)

@mayblueflamesreign Two songs for the prompts making caramel/candy apples and seasonal garments

Absolutely epic work, everyone. Thank you all so much for being involved!

#tanthamore #tanthamoretober #willow #willow 2022 #kit tanthalos #jade claymore #willow fanfic #willow fanart

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vaya-writes · 3 months

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The Wyvern's Bride - Epilogue

When Adalyn gets sacrificed to the local wyvern, she’s a little annoyed and a lot terrified. Upon meeting the wyvern, she discovers that he’s not particularly interested in eating people, and mostly wants to be left alone. In a plot to save himself from the responsibilities his family keep pushing on him, Slate names Adalyn as his human Envoy, and tasks her with finding him a wife.

2300 words. Cis female human x Cis male wyvern (slow burn, arranged marriage, eventual smut). firefly-graphics did the divider.

Masterlist - Previous

Thank you for your patience. It's only been (checks notes) almost nine months. If it's not fresh in mind, I wouldn't force yourself to reread. The style of this chapter is slightly different, doesn't require much coherency with the rest. Anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me this long, and I hope you enjoy the final installment of The Wyvern's Bride. No content warnings for this chapter. Unless PDA makes you uncomfortable xo

There are memories tucked away in each corner of The Wyvern’s Flock. The façade may have changed, but Adalyn can still see herself in the foundations of the building. She still knows the number of steps from the entrance hall to the doorways. The bakery where she’d received customers has been rearranged, a taproom in its place, but the kitchen remains, equipped with the oven her father had modified. She can see it, past the counter where Grace greets them and takes their orders.

Slate holds Adalyn’s hand when they enter what had once been her dining room. It’s still a dining room, part of her is glad to see. The fireplace still burns, and there’s a new clock over the mantle. But smaller tables and benches fill the area. Where once walls had hung bare, they’re now decorated with paintings and tapestries. Adalyn is taken aback by how much colour they bring to the establishment.

There’s a pause in conversation when they enter the room. It doesn’t quite fall silent, but people still stare as they sit by the window. Adalyn goes as far as to put her back to the room, to better blot out the distracting eyes. She’s not here to mind the gossip. Only to have lunch and spend time with her husband.

Word that a wyvern had settled in the valley had spread like wildfire, and people had come from far and wide, just for a chance to see him. It had started with the locals. People trying to sell their livestock. Craftsmen offering skills. The young and unmarried asking after serving positions.

Then word had spread further. Merchants had visited, scrabbling at the chance to trade from Slate’s hoard. Niche craftsfolk had come next. There had been sculptors (mostly turned away), glass makers (temporarily contracted), painters (generously commissioned). Then the jewel smiths, the weavers, alchemists, scribes and tinkerers, until Slate was referring them elsewhere, interested in single purchases and commissions, but not yet ready to hire every person with a trade who came to his door.

With all the skill and money coming to and from the valley, it’s no surprise when the area goes through an economic boom. The area flourishes. The trade festival becomes renowned. Northpoint and Tuscany both double in size as new folk migrate to the region.

The Wyvern’s Flock reflects this easily. The seats are full and the atmosphere is lively. Grace and Gwen have nearly finished paying off Adalyn, years ahead of schedule. As far as Adalyn is aware, the ladies have no regrets. Moving away from their families had been a boon to them both. Grace gets to run her own business, and Gwen gets to run her own kitchen. There’d been obstacles (refurnishing, family drama, local pushback), but things have settled enough that the women now run their business together without raising too many brows.

People stare at Adalyn though. Or perhaps Slate. He’s in his demi form, boldly grasping Adalyn’s hand over the table, sharpened teeth glinting as he talks. She used to shy from the attention. Feel judged by the stares; grow defensive at the scrutiny.

Adalyn squeezes his hand.

Slate pulls back to retrieve some papers from his bag. He moves his chair around the table, so they can pour over the blueprints side by side. She doesn’t flinch when his hand comes to rest on her thigh, though her cheeks do colour with blush. The gesture is under the table, hidden from public eye, and they are married. There’s nothing inherently wrong with the touch.

It still thrills her. A smile plays at her lips.

They chatter about their latest project. Adalyn’s first draft of the stable, drawn almost a year ago, had been cleaned up and heavily referenced in the newer blueprint. It always fills her with warmth, when Slate takes her ideas on board.

The project can’t be put off any longer. With the workers streaming in, they’ll need a permanent stable. A safe way to deal with the offers for work and commerce. Currently mail is left at Fleecehold for Adalyn.

The path through the Spires is steep and crumbling; twisting and incredibly narrow in places. Adalyn can’t help but admire those persistent and skilled enough to make it to the castle entrance.

Most don’t. The path is dangerous. People are attempting to navigate it with alarming regularity. It’s gotten to the point where The Wyvern’s Flock receives a stream of complaints about lost packages, twisted ankles, and near falls. She knows it’s beginning to frustrate Grace and Gwen, despite their assurances otherwise.

It only reinforces the need for a stable. One at the bottom for travellers to stow their horses and swap them out with mules. And one at the top for the animals that complete the journey. They’re considering hiring a guide too.

Because the couriers don’t stop coming. The work applications and correspondences don’t slow. Slate had built himself a castle. It needs staff to maintain it. And there is no shortage of offers.

Adalyn strokes the back of Slate’s hand with her thumb.

He squeezes her leg back, automatic, before stopping suddenly. He gives a rueful wince. “Was I getting off topic?”

She smiles. “No.”

“But I was rambling.”

Adalyn rolls her eyes. “I don’t mind. You know this.”

His cheeks tinge grey with blush, before he presses a kiss to the back of her free hand. “I’m sorry, I’ve spoken about nothing but work.”

She glances pointedly at the blueprints. “That was the plan.”

Slate shares a soft look with Adalyn, his eyes sparkling. “I love you.”

“Yes. I know.”

Slate straightens. Places his hand over his chest in mock indignance.

Adalyn relents, grinning again. “And I love you too.”

Slate puts away the blueprints. “We can revisit this again when the materials are ready. Will you tell me about your morning?”

Adalyn had worried that she’d be left with little to do when she sold her bakery. That the kitchen in the Spires would only keep her occupied for so long. That she’d finish reading Slate’s collection of books, and grow bored. She’d been wrong.

In the days passed she’s practically become Slate’s manager. And that’s just regarding how he handles construction. Half of her job is keeping Slate on task. Reminding him to finish buildings before starting new ones. Helping him prioritise. Making a hard copy of his mental to do list.

It takes patience and understanding. Slate tends to hop between projects on whim. At first she can’t fathom why he’ll be lengthening the servant’s quarters one morning, and then building a hunter’s lodge in the East Forest by the afternoon.

Sometimes he needs it. Needs that project rotation, to prevent him from falling to tedium. Other times he jumps tasks so he won’t forget his new ideas. It’s her job to learn the difference. To gently coach Slate back on track, to take note of his ideas so he can come back to them later. He seems grateful for the assistance. And she appreciates being deferred to. Doesn’t mind the extra work.

Adalyn’s tower had been left unfinished. A side project Slate returns to from time to time, in between other buildings. A servant’s wing had been higher priority. Their staff require a dormitory, a kitchen, a dining area, easy access to running water and a path to the mainway. Slate adds to the quarter every month or so, as more staff are recruited.

When she’s not helping Slate, Adalyn deals with administrative errands. Sorts the mail. Handles the budget. Manages staff. Somebody has to draft contracts and organise pay and give the hapless craftfolk wandering their halls some semblance of an orientation. Scatterbrained as he is, Slate tends to hire people first and ask questions later.

They’d first hired a goatherder, one who was willing to double as a poulterer. Adalyn didn’t want to head to Fleecehold every time she needed supplies, and having her own source of eggs, milk, and cheese (and somebody to mind the animals) is one of the first luxuries she put Slate onto.

While construction was still underway, Slate had started hiring crafters directly. Many he would source from the valley – several professionals, and the occasional apprentice. Others he sent away for. Until there’re a modest collection of people living part time in the Spires, commissioned to create and build at Slate’s whim before the next year passes. A smith busy with hinges, nails, and other iron fittings. Woodworkers and carvers to furnish the place. Niche workers from afar for the more lavish fixtures.

Then Slate hires artists.

Decorations are a must. If not for his rich tastes, then to help tell the many corridors and caverns apart. People to spin tapestries, depicting Slate’s family history. Tanners, to produce leather and fine furs from Slate’s hunting, working in tandem with an upholsterer to ensure that seats and lounges are adequately cushioned. Weavers, to create an ample source of bedding for the servant’s quarter, and spinners, to make and provide thread and yarn for aforementioned weavers and fibre artists. Until Adalyn is dizzy with the sheer number of craftsfolks wandering their halls.

Some of the art comes from further abroad. A handful of paintings and tapestries are commissioned. Slate hardly has the need for stonemasons and sculptors, but he still hires a few. He decorates the halls in limestone reliefs. The scales and wings of his family are repeated motifs. There are also hints at domesticity here and there. Designs featuring the valley; carved sheep in odd places, and crops and foods in others. Patterns peaking from a wall in the kitchen, or near the garden doors.

Mostly they’d hired serving staff. As Slate’s castle grows, so does the housework. There is too much floor space, too many oil lamps and braziers that require maintenance. Adalyn has enough on her plate without handling the laundry or the sweeping and polishing.

She’s still the only person allowed to wander the Tower. Slate had deemed his horde too valuable; hadn’t wanted anyone else handling their possessions. Adalyn figures he just doesn't want anyone fussing.

Next they’ll have to hire a stable hand. And look for a guide, to take people up and down the Spires. But those tasks can wait.

Grace arrives with their food. Cheese toast sprinkled with salt and rosemary for Adalyn – who makes a note to try cooking it at home. And a haunch of meat, dripping and rare, just the way Slate likes it. There’s wine too; the ladies had a trade deal with Ivar’s brewery, and Adalyn’s visits to The Wyvern’s Flock are a rare chance for her to indulge in his reputed winterberry wine.

Adalyn digs into her meal while her friend lingers, catching her up on the latest happenings. Adalyn doesn’t get to be social very often, and she’s grown to appreciate the comradery and tentative friendship that the Grace and Gwen have offered her.

They chat about Lindel. The woman had kept in touch with Adalyn, writing regularly. She still lives with her family, farming and spinning with the rest of the women in her village. Her life hadn’t changed much in the last year, but being the semi-final contender to marry Slate had bought her some respect amongst the others in her village. Even if she keeps the details of the trials to herself.

Errah comes up too. She’s still a bit of a recluse, shepherding in one of the smaller settlements. Neither does she write, though Adalyn suspects that has more to do with her ability, rather than her desire.

One of Slate’s cousins had been checking in on her, and the occasional sight of the silvery wyvern has been a fierce topic of gossip. Adalyn listens avidly. Lune hadn’t bothered visiting the Spires. It’s apparently poor etiquette for one wyvern to visit another’s territory and not declare themselves, but Slate doesn’t mind.

Adalyn decides to visit Errah. If Lune is attempting to court her, then she’d probably appreciate the hard earned information Adalyn could share about that particular experience.

Gwen wanders over, and conversation turns towards business. Repayments on the building. Mail collection. Food orders.

The sun sets and the stars wheel gently overhead by the time Slate and Adalyn leave. They walk the settlement for a while, and Adalyn is struck with the fond memory of when she’d given Slate his first tour of the area.

The night grows cold and Adalyn shivers.

Slate wraps his arm around her shoulders and steers her towards the courtyard. He transforms, without a care for who sees him. Adalyn can’t help but smile again, reminded vividly of the first time Slate had landed here in this form. The power he’d given her at his entrance.

What’s with that look?

Adalyn shakes her head. “I’m just feeling nostalgic.”

She brushes her fingers against his scaled snout. Smiles up at him, before leaning in and kissing him on the cheek.

He rumbles; a sound of contentment.

“I had a nice time tonight. Thank you.”

He doesn’t reply, nuzzling his face against her shoulder instead. His tongue flicks out across her neck, playful and affectionate. Adalyn yelps, before dissolving into laughter at the ticklish sensation.

Slate lowers his head further. Nudges her side, more forcefully.

Climb on already. I want to take you home.

She nearly flushes at his directness. Feigns shock with a hand over her mouth. “So forward, Slate?”

His huff sends a breath of hot air at her face, but he doesn’t otherwise reply. He’s familiar with the joke. It’s not the first time she’s made it.

Adalyn kisses him again before climbing up. Jests aside, she looks forward to getting back to the Tower. To whatever Slate might have in mind for the evening.

Once more, the shadow of a wyvern passes over Clearwater Valley.

#holy shit #im actually kind of emotional posting this #its finally done #woah #anyway #vaya writes #wyverns #dragons #monster romance #also i got so sick of the word smile while editing this

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in-death-we-fall · 1 year

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Aesthetics of Hate

This is the House of Nine. There is a horror that echoes through its walls. There is a horror that shifts and broods. A horror that coils itself into a moment of truth. This is our house. We have heard it sing.

It’s started again, hasn’t it? That’s why we’re back. That’s why we’ve… changed.

Back? Listen.

We never left.

Slipknot’s drug, alcohol and ego problems are history. No longer at war with each other, the only struggle now is finding a way to finish it.

Words: Ken McIntyre. Pics: Steve Brown.

Aka the one that aged like milk. Many thanks to @incredizort for sharing your collection. (docs link)

The are the village people of the damned, a psychedelic terror circus populated by depressed clowns, obsessive-compulsives, misanthropes, cyborgs, droogs, ghouls, and goblins. Their sound is a barrage of noise and confusion, a bundle of hiss and the dynamiting of mountains. They look like escaped mental patients on Halloween, and their demeanor vacillates between grandiose and openly hostile. They are Slipknot, and they are legion.

Since 1995, these nine creatures of latex and bone from the fertile plains of Des Moines, Iowa, have lorded over their dysfunctional kingdom of maggots and problem children with shaky hands that have often succumbed to their own wretched excesses. As the band went from strength to strength, from the runaway freight train of their 1999 self-titled debut album to the embittered, embattled success of 2001’s Iowa and their surprisingly tuneful comeback, 2004’s Vol. 3: (The Subliminal Verses), Slipknot scaled unheard-of heights for an extreme metal band, snapping up Gold and Platinum albums, winning Grammy awards, infiltrating the mainstream like sinister double agents.

But none of it came easy, and lurking behind the mask was a band at war with itself; a band riddled with drug, alcohol, and ego problems. In 2005, the levy finally broke, and Sipknot took a much-needed break, the various members healing, mending fences, and exploring other creative avenues. Singer Corey Taylor and guitarist Jim Root returned to Stone Sour, drummer Joey Jordison played with a myriad of bands, from Korn to Metallica, and drummer and visual artist Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan produced the revealing ‘Knot-doc Voliminal: Inside The Nine, among other projects.

But they could not avoid their fates forever, and so Slipknot return with a roaring new album, All Hope Is Gone, which pits a burgeoning retro-thrash metal obsession and their recent flirtations with melody against their original vision of pure, bloodlusting aggression and brutality. And with this latest dispatch from the abyss comes the expected media saturation, as well as an endless arc of tours and festivals and television performances. It is during the brief calm before the storm that Metal Hammer catches up with Slipknot, rehearsing their new set at Wells fargo Arena in downtown Des Moines.

Slipknot (left to right): Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan, Chris Fehn, Craig Jones, Joey Jordison, Paul Gray, Mick Thomson, James Root, Sid Wilson Corey Taylor

They say it’s what’s inside you that counts.

That’s what scares me.

It’s in all of us

It’s what binds us that makes us clash. It will happen again.

We’re twisted pieces of the same puzzle. Nine faces that speak with one voice.

The voice of madness…?

Is it normal to be practising in an arena? Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan (percussion): “It’s not normal, but it’s not surprising at the level we’re at. It was my idea to do this, to practise in the small room and get it tight, and then to come out here and get the feeling of the arena again. Otherwise, you’re practising in people’s houses, and we’re nine brothers. Imagine nine brothers with nine families and everybody running with different crews, and all having different morals and standards and spiritualities. Imagine that fuckin’ insanity. So this makes sense.”

Des Moines had a series of floods recently. Did they affect the band at all? Corey Taylor (vocals): “Not really. I spent a couple days running around saving my friends. Everybody I knew with the exception of just a couple people lived on the flood plain, so I was just going out and helping people get the fuck out of there. I had a house full of people for a week.”

For years now, there have been allegations that you guys all hate each other. Is the band still dysfunctional? Joey Jordison (drums): “Yeah, we are dysfunctional. But I mean, we all grew up together. Me and Mick [Thompson (sic), guitar] are like, best friends, and I used to detest that guy. We fuckin’ hated each other, man. And Shawn, me and him are probably the closest brothers in the whole band, but we probably get along the least because we love each other so much, and we control a lot of what goes on in Slipknot. We’re constantly butting heads. I remember right before Ozzfest, you could just cut the tension between me and him with a knife, it was so thick, and one day I left practice (sic) all pissed off, and I was saying, ‘Fuck off, I think I’m quitting.’ There we were, we just got the ticket, we were on our way to making it. That’s how fuckin’ stressed out we were. And literally – he’s a lot bigger than I am – Shawn flipped his kit over, came over to my drumset, ripped my stuff down and held me by the fuckin’ throat, and I grabbed his throat and went to punch him, and then the whole band dogpiled us. We’ve had lots of fights like that, real fistfights. But even though we still get into fights, we don’t let them last that long anymore. The band is just so intense. I mean, we’ve got nine extreme personalities here.”

That reminds me, on a scale on (sic) one to 10, how nuts is your DJ, Sid? He just told me that he’s a cyborg, and I think he really means it. Joey: “One to 10? Like, 13. Yeah, he’s crazy. You take 72 hits of acid in one weekend, it’s gonna fry your brain up a little bit.”

How do you guys balance all the side-projects with Slipknot? Joey: “It’s fuckin’ simple. Slipknot comes first.”

So it didn’t take any convincing to get everybody back to do a new album? Joey: “Well, it usually happens when the other bands sorta run their course. Certain people in the band decide not to do anything, they just chill out until the next Slipknot record. Me, I do a lot of work with other bands, but Slipknot’s my priority, and I’m glad to be back playing with these guys. The first day when we started rehearsal, usually people are laidback (sic), it was like headbang city man, and we were like, ‘Let’s just get out metal necks, let’s get that shit out of the way.’ It feels great, man. I’m happy.” Corey: “ I was completely stoked to do it. I’d actually started thinking of it and preparing for it on the Stone Sour tour. I just started filling notebooks with ideas. It got to the point where I had two notebooks full of stuff, and I was just ready to go. So as soon as the music was written and the demos started floating around, I was just like, ‘OK, this fits here and this fits here.’ I wasn’t rushing around to write lyrics, which a lot of guys do. I was very prepared and not only was I saying everything I wanted to say, but I was doing it in a way I was ecstatic about. I knew I wanted to go heavier, and I knew at the same time that I wanted to balance that with this melodic side that we had really tapped into. And the proof is there. I think this album is the best thing we’ve ever done, to be honest. I think it really shows the growth of the band and the maturity. But it’s still chaotic and heavy, but it’s still got those moments where you just go, ‘Holy fucking shit!’ Not only is it good, but the more you listen to it, the more you find. There’s a lot of layers, and that’s something that gets lost on a lot of people. There’s just so much thought and so much meaning behind everything we do. It’s not just shock for shock’s sake.”

What’s the theme for All Hope Is Lost (sic)? Umm, hopelessness by any chance? Corey: “It’s not a blatantly political or social album, and it’s not a blatantly angry album. I think the overwhelming theme, for me, is that none of us are the same, but none of us are different. We may change as people, but if we use the same energy to try and solve different problems, nothing is going to get accomplished. And that’s something that I think is lost on a lot of people.”

What was it like having Dave Fortman as a producer for this one? Joey: “Dave was great. It’s not like when we were recording with Rick Rubin – he was like an oracle. He would make these little tweaks from his house. He’d sit in this little library in his house, he’d sit there cross-legged with these prayer beads and he’d get a vibe, and he’d tell the engineer what to do. That was a weird way to record. But Dave, he was there every hour, every day. When we write songs, we tend to write really long like, [Metallica’s] …And Justice For All- type songs, nine or 10 minutes long. So we’d record the song like that, and Dave would help us chop it down. The thing with Dave is, that guy knows his tones. I finally got the best drum sound in my life. The guitar sound, the bass, the percussion… finally, we’ve got the Slipknot sound I’ve been wanting to hear my whole life.”

You’ve got new masks and new outfits, do you feel constrained at all by them? Corey: “No. We don’t only have these, but we have actual outfits that we put together ourselves. They’re still cohesive, but they’re a little more individualistic. We had started doing that on the last album. It’s part of our evolution. If you’re not evolving, you’re dying. No matter what the fucking fans on the websites say, nobody wants to see the same fucking shit over and over again. This time around, we felt it was very important that we are represented as individuals and not just as a band, as pieces of a puzzle. The new mask and outfits range from outrageous to very subtle. It’s a reflection of who we are. But we also kept the boiler suits, because we like to appear as a unit.”

You guys got saddled with the ‘nu metal’ tag early on. Obviously at this point you’ve overcome it… Corey: “There were a couple of bands that were good and that had a really good attitude. Snot comes to mind. That was an amazing band; I loved Snot. (hed)P.E. – their first couple of albums were amazing, because they had so much attitude, and it was so different. But then you had bands like Limp Wristed and all that crap, where it just got so watered down; the P.O.D.s, fuckin’ bands like that, where there was zero talent going on. It was frustrating being caught up in that, but at the same time, people don’t want to think outside of what they already know. They want their opinions forcefed (sic) to them. So if a magazine comes out and says we’re nu metal, than (sic) that’s what they’re going to say. It took us a long time to change people’s minds. We’re just a metal band. The people that wanted to write us off as a nu metal band weren’t our fans, they just didn’t know what to call us. We just got stronger and stronger and more willing to experiment and so they just didn’t know what we were. In that respect, we sort of created our own genre, and there’s a lot of bands that kinda take cues from us now. It’s kinda weird.”

Slipknot broke the ceiling for extreme metal bands making it in the mainstream. Did it shock you when it was happening? Corey: “At the time we didn’t even think about it, we were just real busy working. We were literally on the road for 18 months and saw home for maybe three weeks in that entire time. We were gone forever. But we knew that was going to happen, so we just put our heads down and did what we had to do, because we just refused to lose. So once we got that done we had time to take a breath. We were getting ready to start on the Iowa tour, and we just turned around and were like, ‘Woah! Look what we did. We’re fucking huge!’ We were playing this place that’s not even there anymore, it was called the Bronco Bowl in Dallas. It was set up like a mini-arena and it was just fucking gagged, fucking jammed with people. I remember walking out on stage and thinking, ‘Are we opening up for somebody? Where did all these fucking people come from?’ They knew every word, they knew everything, I remember coming off stage and just having this amazing smile on my face. I was like, ‘Something’s different. We’re not an opening band anymore.’ And I don’t think we’d ever be again, unless we were opening for somebody like Metallica. It was insane, it was probably the best feeling I’ve ever felt in my life.” Joey: “It didn’t happen overnight, because we had to work so hard for it but… it happened overnight. We went on Ozzfest, and three weeks into it we’d sold 150,000 records. Every time we played, everybody – every fucking band, Black Sabbath included – was out there watching us. And we’re out for blood, we fucking hate everybody, just ‘Fuck you!’ That’s always been the Slipknot mentality. We love a lot of other bands, we love a lot of different music, but when it comes to us playing, we just don’t care. It’s your ass. People think it’s arrogant, and it is. We believe in our craft. We believe in Slipknot.”

The voice of the madness perhaps

It’s the nature of madness – it’s always searching for a brave face.

Always changing…

…always the same

It seeks its own martyrdom…

…and to be reborn

Yeah, very fucking profound. Don’t get mad, get eaten.

You want to give food for thought?

It’s just for the food for the maggots.

Th-that’s all, folks.

Is it tough accepting the fact that you have to wear a mask for the next year? Joey: “No, not at all. I’m ecstatic to be back and playing with the guys again. It’s home, man. We take breaks because Slipknot is not just music, it’s a force, it’s a lifestyle. It’s also like being in jail. You’re constricted. You have to be on your game every night to be in this band. The stuff is not easy to play anyway, but we’ve got the whole stage performance, playing in masks, it’s what every band goes through, but with nine guys it’s very intense. I mean, look at this – all nine guys are still together. All nine original guys are still here. What other band can say that?”

So, has anybody ever tried to get out? Joey: “No, no one ever has. That’s why at the end of a 15-month tour cycle, we’re just like, let’s take a break, work on some other projects, just relieve a little stress. But when we come back to Slipknot, it’s on, man. There’s no fucking around.”

So what can we expect from this next tour? Clown: “For one thing, we’re musical, man. I play the fucking drums, so get used to it. I’ve earned the right, I’ve done the time, I’ve been on the mountain with the kung fu masters, learning. If you can’t accept that, go play with the kids’ toys. I’ve worked really hard on my art for this one. I got my boy-scout medals and I’m in the deep woods with no tools, no tent, no nothing, and we’re playing survival, man. Just know that I’m the guy who eats the fucking shit raw, man. If there’s an animal, I’ll fucking eat it. This is fucking Slipknot. That’s what you can fucking expect.”

Is Slipknot meant to last forever, or do you have to write the end of this story? Clown: “You nailed it, man. I am in more pain than anyone could possibly ever know, because I have to find a way to finish this.” Joey: “I don’t think it’s our last record at all, but there’s something seriously going on with this record, that’s for sure. It’s like Friday the 13th Part IV: The Final Chapter. It’s a climax.”

Is Slipknot like Kiss, where you could lose a member and just find somebody else to wear his mask? Clown: “No. If I left this band, we’d be done. If Joey Jordison left this band, we’d be done. All of us, if any of the guys in this band leave… See, it’s been out of our hands for a long time, since 1998. The world is just too dumb, too anti-art, to realise how important this is, to actually accept the truth that yes, if I left the band it’d be over. There could never be a drummer to replace me, man. We are The Nine. There is no one else.”

Nine long, tense, and occasionally violent hours later, Slipknot begin to slink out into the inky-black, dead-still Des Moines night. It’s a mere week until they begin headlining the Mayhem tour in the States, and that’s just the beginning. Once this album hits the streets, it is unlikely that any of them will see their homes again for at least a year, and probably longer. Although the band harbours the expected anxieties about their long-awaited return to the metal arena, the sprawling expansive All Hope Is Gone will probably be their biggest album ever. At this point the eldest members of the band are now approaching 40, while their fanbase still hovers around 18, and that’s the same sort of 18 Alice Cooper once sang about: the confused, angry, half-a-boy, half-a-man kind.

If any of The Nine hoped to escape their fates as the ringleaders of the tormented, those hopes are now dashed.

“Man, it’s fucking embarrassing,” Clown admitted earlier, when we asked him how it felt to be a dad playing teen-rage anthems.

“I’m just glad I’m not alone in this, with this fucking-metal-fucking-arena-rock-fucking-stage-pass-interview-fucking-photoshoot shit. I don’t care about it. Yes, my art has grown into a way of life, yes, there’s a lot of people that live their lives by it, but I’ve always told people, I don’t want to be on the cover of Metal Hammer, I want to be on the cover of National Geographic. I’ve always said that. I’m gonna be on the cover of Metal Hammer anyway, because that’s just what I fucking do. But I want to take you all on another journey, a fucking life journey, a painful journey. There’s a reason why Slipknot gets the people we get: because they’re lost. They’re lost, and they find their way to us. It’s like a cult, man,” he says, staring a hole right through us.

“A cult of fucking pain.”

There are those who say hope springs eternal. They have obviously never spent a day with Slipknot.

A Stitch In Time

A bluffer’s guide to The Nine.

92: Drummer Shawn Crahan and bassist Paul Gray begin playing in a band together.

95: Joey Jordison joins Shawn and Paul, form Meld with guitarists Donnie Steele and Josh Brainard, and singer Anders Colsefini.

96: Donnie leaves the band due to religious beliefs and is replaced by Craig Jones. Meld change their name to Slipknot and begin wearing grotesque make-up and costumes. Craig Jons switches to sampler and Mick Thomson joins on guitar. Slipknot release their first self-released album, Mate.Feel.Kill.Repeat., on Halloween.

97: Corey Taylor replaces Anders on vocals. Chris Fehn joins the band as percussionist. Slipknot start wearing their trademark boiler suits and numbers.

98: DJ Sid Wilson joins the band. They sign to Roadrunner Records.

99: On June 29, the band releases Slipknot, their ‘official’ debut album, and join the Ozzfest tour.

00: Slipknot is certified Platinum.

01: Slipknot release their second album, Iowa, and do the Ozzfest tour again.

02: The band take a break, Corey Taylor revives Stone Sour, Joey Jordison forms Murderdolls. Slipknot attempt to write a follow-up to Iowa, but struggle with inner-band conflicts. Rumours of the band’s imminent break-up start to circulate in the media.

03: Slipknot rally and begin recording new album with producer Rick Rubin.

04: Vol. 3: (The Subliminal Verses) is released. It quickly goes Platinum. Yet another Ozzfest tour follows.

06: Slipknot win their first Grammy award in the category of Best Metal Performance for Before I Forget. Voliminal: Inside The Nine, a self-produced DVD documentary, is released.

08: All Hope Is Gone released. Chaos ensues.

Project Revolution

Slipknot members are known for their many side projects. Here’s a crib sheet.

Stone Sour

Corey Taylor (vocals) Jim Root (guitar Stone Sour were formed back in 1992 by Corey Taylor and have existed in one form or another ever since. The alt-metal/grunge band have released two albums on Roadrunner Records (Stone Sour in 2002 and Come What(ever) May in 2006), and have been nominated for a Grammy award three times. The band are currently on hold in light of the new Slipknot record, but plans for a third album are in the works.

Murderdolls

Joey Jordison (drums (sic)) A horror-themed glam-punk band with a penchant for fishnet tights and make-up formed in 2002 by Joey Jordison, the Murderdolls also featured former Frankenstein Drag Queens frontman Wednesday 13. The band released their debut album, Beyond The Valley Of The Murderdolls in 2002 and played together sporadically over the next two years. The band are currently on hiatus, and when asked about the possibility of further recordings, Joey stated: “There might be another album. We’re thinking about it.”

Ministry, etc

Joey Jordison (drums) During his off-hours, Joey keeps busy by filling in on drums for several notable acts, including nu metal pioneers Korn, who he played with at the 2007 Download Festival, Metallica, (Download 2004), and Ministry, who he toured with in the summer of 2006.

DJ Starscream

Sid Wilson Sid Wilson’s day job is as a leading Jungle musician. As Starscream he’s released a host of singles and remixes on the Japanese label N20.

Dirty Little Rabbits

Shawn Crahan (drums) Shawn’s other side-project is a swirly mix of psychedelia and 90s style alt-rock. The band has yet to release an album. Dirty Little Rabbits supported Stone Sour on their 2006-07 US tour.

Dum Fux

Corey Taylor (guitar, vocals) A tongue-in-cheek cover band that plays everything from Flock Of Seagulls to The Stooges. Current status: active.

Audacious P

Corey Taylor (vocals, guitar) Perhaps the world’s only Tenacious D cover band. Currently on hiatus.

To My Surprise

Shawn Crahan (drums) A sun-dappled 60s rock-style band, To My Surprise were signed to Roadrunner Records and released their debut, self-titled album in 2003. It was executive produced by Rick Rubin. The band are on hiatus.

Roadrunner United

Joey Jordison (drums) Paul Gray (bass) Jim Root (guitar) This was a one-off album project put together to celebrate Roadrunner Records’ 25th anniversary. Roadrunner United featured 18 ‘supergroups’ made up of various Roadrunner alumni. Slipknot’s Joey, Jim and Paul played on several of the tracks, along with Type O Negative’s Pete Steele, King Diamond guitarist Andy LaRocque, and Cradle Of Filth bassist Dave Pybus, among others. The Roadrunner United album was released in 2005.

#slipknot #shawn crahan #corey taylor #joey jordison #interview #metal hammer summer 2008

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consanguinitatum · 4 months

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For One Night Only: David at the RSC Fringe Festival (oh, and one other thing he probably didn't do...)

For today's post in "obscure things David Tennant did way back when," we'll need to travel back in time to the late 1990s. It was a busy time for David. By May 1997, he'd just wrapped up his first Royal Shakespeare Company repertory season (in which he simultaneously played Touchstone in As You Like It, Jack Lane in The Herbal Bed, and Alexander Hamilton in The General From America). This set of three plays had begun their runs in Stratford in early- to mid 1996; they then transferred over to London's Barbican Theatre, where they had ended their runs by mid-1997.

Programmes for The Herbal Bed, As You Like It, and The General From America

Next on David's theatre agenda was the role of Mickey in Hurlyburly (a play I've talked about before) which ran at the Queen's Theatre in London from August to November 1997. He then performed a one-off staged reading of Derek Jarman's Blue at the Chelsea Arts Theare on 16 November 1997 (which, by the way, is another little-known DT performance I want to explore!)

That was it for 1997, theatre-wise.

Then, beginning in March of 1998 - as I've explored previously - he began his run as Moon and Brindsley Miller in The Real Inspector Hound/Black Comedy. This double bill ran first at the Yvonne Arnaud Theatre in Surrey and then in London, first at the Richmond Theatre and then at the Comedy Theatre. That play finally wrapped in August 1998.

But a month before wrapping The Real Inspector Hound/Black Comedy, David had popped over to Stratford to do something interesting, something that's the focus of this thread. It was called For One Night Only, and - as it says on the tin - it was, indeed, for one night only!

First, though? A little history!

Around 1990, the RSC began to hold an annual summer festival called the Royal Shakespeare Company Fringe Festival. Intended as a showcase for RSC talent, it included a mix of events: short plays, devised pieces, stand-up comedy, concerts, etc., as well as new works making their Stratford debut. The festival lasted two weeks and saw actors, directors, stage managers, musicians and staff all taking part in more than 25 events. All the events were either on Sundays, or timed around RSC productions, so audiences could go see fringe shows after seeing the actors perform in their usual RSC roles.

Most of the events for 1998's festival took place in a specially adapted 100-seat rehearsal room at the RSC's 'alternative' theatre, The Other Place. But not all of them. Their opening night event - on Sunday, 19 July - was to take place at the Swan Theatre.

That opening night event? For One Night Only!

Starring Desmond Barrit, Emma Handy, and Amanda Harris as well as David, the launch event cost £4-£12 and began at 7:30 pm. It was called a "curtain raiser" as well as "aptly-named."

And just what was it about? Well, um....I know it was organized and compiled by its star, Desmond Barrit...and that it was supposed to take its audience on a journey through the theatre. These articles say so.

But that's about all I know. I wish I had more details.

I am, however, supremely lucky to own a piece of ephemera about this one night only event.

Here's the front and back of my For One Night Only flyer, and as I'm sure you'll notice, it promises "an evening of theatrical prose and poetry...and a little gossip!"

Great. Could you tell us a bit more, thanks?

While researching For One Night Only, I came across something else of interest, which I thought for a moment David might have been involved in - an event staged nine days before For One Night Only. But after researching this event in more detail, I don't think he was involved, after all. Such a shame, really. He would've been perfect!

On Friday, 10 July 1998, at 1 pm in the afternoon, some Royal Shakespeare Company members got together to do a fund raiser and preview of the upcoming Fringe in the forecourt of the Other Place. Called a Sonnetathon, this three-hour event featured various RSC members reading all 154 of Shakespeare's sonnets!

Now a Sonnetathon would've been right up David's alley, am I right? He'd have loved it! But I'm about 99% certain he wasn't there - and here's why. That Friday night at 7:30 pm, David was onstage in The Real Inspector Hound/Black Comedy at the Comedy Theatre in London, that's why!

But here's why I say 99%. It's not impossible to imagine he got up early that Friday (after doing a show the night before) and took the train in to Stratford to do the Sonnetathon - wrapped it up by 4pm, then hopped on another train back to London in time to make the 7:30 curtain up for The Real Inspector Hound/Black Comedy.

But you have to admit, it seems unlikely.

But The Real Inspector Hound/Black Comedy wasn't showing on Sunday, 19 July 1998, so David was able to get to Stratford and go onstage as part of 'For One Night Only' to open the Fringe...and then get back to London in time to go onstage once more the following night.

So now you know what I know about For One Night Only.

Of course I'll keep looking for more!

#DavidTennant #ObscureDavidTennantPerformances #ForOneNightOnly #DavidTennantEarlyTheatre

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scuolajaku · 2 years

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La festa del Doppio Nove

Non perdetevi il nuovo articolo sul blog! Questa volta parleremo della #festadeldoppionove in tutto l'Oriente, dei bellissimi fiori di #crisantemo e dei #tèfioriti! #festadeicrisantemi #festadeldoppionove #doppionove #tortagao #pallineditèaifiori #tè

Immagine dal sito https://www.keephealth365.com/ Il nono giorno del nono mese del calendario lunare cinese si celebra da moltissimo tempo una festa tradizionale comune sia alla Cina che a Taiwan, al Giappone, alla Corea e al Vietnam. Questa festa in cinese è detta festa di Chung Yeung [重陽節] mentre in giapponese è chiamata Kiku no Sekku [重陽の節句] ovvero Festa dei Crisantemi. Perché in Cina si è…

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abbatoirablaze · 1 year

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Good Girls Grown Up

Word Count: 4.3k

Note: This takes place approximately three years before the current timeline of Ex Wive's Club

Warnings: anxiety, feelings of not being a good enough pairing, slight angst, insecurities, soft! Lee (because that is a warning), bullying, mentions of an unwanted child, angst in children, gaslighting.

“Mayor Bodecker, what do you think you are doing?” she whispered softly as her husband’s nimble fingers worked their way sinfully inside of her sleep shorts. Lee hummed thoughtfully, pressing his erection against his wife’s backside. His fingers dipped inside of her, and she moaned. Her eyes flickered closed and her core clenched around the familiar digits, “Lee…oh, fuck…”

“Such improper language for the first lady of our little town.”

She giggled as he nipped along her neck. Instinctively she bucked her hips against her husband’s hand, his calloused palm dragging deliciously against her clit. Lee’s own hips pressed forward once more as he was filled with need for her, “Lee…oh, Lee…who cares about language…”

“You’re right,” he agreed thoughtfully. She whimpered when his fingers pulled out of her, and his hands worked needily on her sleep shorts. She was quick to stop him, and he frowned. She turned her head ever so slightly so that she saw him in her peripherals. He wore a nervous look, “what’s wrong, Em?”

“Lee…the kids…” she sighed, “it’s Easter…they’re bound to barge in…and the triplets…”

Lee looked over to the extra-large bassinet, where his three youngest babies were sleeping soundly. He sighed to himself, “you know that ‘he’ misses being inside of you, sweet pea…”

“Lee, we have nine little babies now…not six…and four of them have the ability to barge in without their siblings carrying them.”

“Just one taste,” Lee all but begged, his nose gently touching that of his wife’s. She turned around in his arms, giggling at him. He frowned a little bit more and she wrapped her arms around his neck, “c’mon sweet pea…we’ve done this since we moved here…I taste you before we start our festivities…it sets my whole day right!”

“Your insatiable nature is the reason we have nine children, mayor!” she teased.

“Oh, it’s not for lack of trying, sweet pea,” Lee smiled, wrapping his arms around his wife, “if you’d let me as much as I wanted to, we’d easily have double the number.”

“Lee Bodecker!” she squealed.

Lee smiled, “c’mon sugar…there was a time when you were the same…I remember quite frequently when we were freshly married, you were askin’ for my Bodecker baby juice all the time…”

A new blush rose to her cheeks and Lee shot her a flirtatious wink, “oh I still do want it…but I think we need to seriously consider you getting snipped first…”

She watched the color drain from his face, “snipped?”

“Lee, we have nine babies…”

“What happened to double digits, Mrs. Bodecker?”

“Nine children happened!” she sighed, admitting it aloud, “I don’t know how you’re in your 40’s and manage to keep up with them. I’m only in my 20’s and they leave me exhausted every night…”

“You want me to hire a nanny to help you out?” Lee asked, a concerned tone taking hold of his voice, “sweet pea…I cou-“

“I’m not saying that, Lee,” she said quickly, cutting him off, “I just-“

“Sweet pea…I don’t want you feeling like you are run ragged by the babies…we got more than enough money to be hiring help!” Lee offered. He watched how silent he was for a moment, and in that instant he knew that there was a bit more to how she was feeling.

He started piecing together all the little hints.

They hadn’t been having as much sex.

She was less flirty, and always talking about being exhausted.

Sometimes he’d get home late and she’d already be passed out in bed, the children tucked away.

Lee waited patiently, “baby…talk to me…just say the word and we’ll do it.”

Em bit her lip, “you wouldn’t be mad?”

Lee felt his heart ache. He held his wife a little bit closer and reached up to tip her chin up so that she was looking directly at him, “why would I be mad, sweet pea? We have nine amazing babies together…you gave me that amazing gift! Hell, you agreed to marry me and let me make nine sweet, beautiful babies with you. Let me do this for you, baby…”

“I think I need help, Lee…” she admitted with a nod. Lee nodded in response and wrapped his arms around her.

“We’ll hire some help, baby….and I-I’ll look into a vasectomy.”

“I-I don’t want to go to school today…”

Jake frowned, looking down at Evie as he served up the pancakes and French toast he’d made for the kids. His youngest two seemed oblivious to the tension in the room as they munched on their breakfast, but Jake and his eldest son were tuned into Evie’s distress, “why not, Eve?”

“I just don’t want to go!” she muttered, poking at her food, “can I stay home today? I-I think I need to stay home. My tummy hurts!”

“Look, kiddo…we talk about our feelings in this household…you know that! If you’re feeling sick, we’ll make a doctor’s appointment and get it figured out, but that’s not what it sounds like. So do you want to talk about it? If not, we’re going to school today!” Jake said firmly as he placed the pan back on the stove. When she didn’t respond he put the spatula down and turned around, speaking into the Bluetooth in his ear, where his team was going over the groundwork for a mission, “Clay…pooch, I’m going to have to call you guys back…”

He tapped the side of his Bluetooth without waiting for a response, and then looked to his adopted daughter, “you going to tell me what’s going on, Evie, or do I have to play twenty questions?”

Her jaw tensed momentarily, and her eyes glistened. She looked to Tyler and he went to speak but she ran away from the table. Jake looked between his sons and daughter. Layla and Jacob shrugged, the three and four year old not entirely sure what was going on, while the second grader Tyler bit his lip and looked away from his father. Jake watched his son’s actions, and he sighed when the little boy refused to make eye contact with him.

“Tyler…”

“Evie asked Michael to play with her at recess yesterday…and they kissed underneath the slide…”

He fought off the instinctive protective urge that made him want to smack the young Barber boy silly in lieu of hearing the rest of what his son had to say. He waited, but Tyler remained silent. Jake’s brow furrowed, “and…”

“Some of the other kids said that Michael only kissed her because he felt bad for her,” he admitted, still biting his lip as he told his father the story, “Evie got sad when they asked why he’d feel bad for her…”

“What did they say, Tyler?”

“That Michael only did it because he feels bad that Evie’s real mom didn’t want her…” he said quickly, “that you and mom only took her in because her mom was going to throw her away! They started calling her a garbage baby.”

Jake looked down the hall, heartbroken over what his son had just told him. They’d had a long journey fighting for Evie, and she was wanted amongst the Jenson clan more than anything, “you know that’s not true, right Tyler?”

“Of course I know that!” he said as though it were the most obvious piece of information he ever heard, “I told Evie that we love her and that she should tell you and mom, but she said no…she tried to talk to Michael and he wouldn’t even look at her.”

Jake’s jaw tensed, “that little shit…”

“Dad…am I in trouble?”

“No bud,” Jake said with a shake of his head. He reached over and messed with his son’s hair, “you aren’t in trouble.”

“I pushed Michael when he ran away from Evie…”

“I’ll be right back,” Jake said quickly, disregarding the claim that his son made, “you did good in protecting your sister…do me a favor and make sure Layla and Jacob eat breakfast!”

“Okay daddy…”

Jake rushed out of the kitchen and down the hall to where Evie’s room was. His heart ached as he heard the little girl crying from the other side of the door. But before he could so much as speak when he burst through the door, he saw that his wife already was there sitting on the bed, with Evie sitting on her lap and sobbing against her chest.

“It’s okay, Evie,” Maddie sighed, gently smoothing down her half-sister’s hair, “don’t listen to those mean kids at school…”

“They said my real mommy didn’t want me! They called me a garbage baby,” she sobbed, “and Michael went along with it. Michael is my boyfriend! And he didn’t stand up for me.”

“Well I’m going to talk to Sasha and Andy after I drop you off at school-“

“Mommy no!”

“Baby…that’s not right,” she sighed, looking into her half-sisters chocolate orbs, “no one should say that. And if Michael really was your boyfriend he would have stood up for you. You said Tyler stood up for you, right?”

“Uh-huh…”

“People that love you will always stick up for you, baby!”

“But my real mommy didn’t want me!” she argued, “no one wants me…you and daddy just feel bad for me!”

“Don’t you ever say that again!” Maddie said firmly, holding the little girl at arm’s length. Maddie’s tears reflected Evie’s and both of them refused to move a muscle, “I don’t want you to ever say that again…”

“But it’s true!”

“I want you!” Maddie said quickly, a tear streaming down her cheek, “I want you so desperately to be part of the family Evie…our mother was a mean woman…but I wanted you so badly. I fought for you!”

“We fought for you!” Jake agreed from the door.

Both Evie and Maddie looked teary eyed at Jake. Jake felt like his throat was closing up, seeing two of his girls in so much pain, but he pushed himself further into the room. He dropped to his knees, “Evie…Maddie and I want you…Maddie and I adopted you when we got you here…remember?”

The little girl nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks.

But the trio was shocked when they heard another voice from the door.

“We want you too, Evie!” Tyler proclaimed, “You’re my big sister…you’re all of our big sister…”

“Sissy!” the three-year-old Jacob chirped. Layla nodded in agreement, rocking back and forth on her feet.

“We love you, sissy!”

Evie sniffled and Jake led the charge, wrapping his arms around both Maddie and her. The Jensen babies were quick to join in and they all began to reaffirm the love that they held for Evie. Maddie sniffled and Jake’s eyes caught hers.

‘I love you!’ she mouthed.

And Jake tearily smiled, wondering how his life managed to go so right.

“Hey…”

Cami looked up from her desk, surprised to see Sam standing there with kindergarteners Jamie and Stephanie, and his own four-year-old daughter, Kaya. She bit her lip, unable to hold back the smile from her lips, “well hey there guys…what are you doing here?”

“A few of the guys were working on some new prototypes for the wings on my suit…”he said with a shrug, “picked the girls up, and was going to take them down to the tech lab since the daycare closed down for the day…”

“Again?”

“Your newborn brother can be thanked for that…” he said while holding back a chuckle. Cami frowned, nervous to ask. Sam bit his lip, “apparently one of the women was playing with him, and he wouldn’t let go of her finger…”

“Oh no…”

“He snapped it!”

Cami gasped, “No.”

“Was pretty funny watching Buck come and get him…” Sam admitted, “but it’s better than Mel coming down. You know she would have made those poor girls feel bad for it. Your dad just looks sad when he tries to fight over it.”

“Oh god…is he arguing with them again?”

“Baby, it’s the second time James injured one of the workers…”

“He’s a serum baby…they know that they’re supposed to not stick their hands in his face,” she sighed, “he’s got super strength. I mean, Jamie and Stephanie are a lot more mild-mannered than him, and me and Steve were there a lot more…I mean, he cut down on the missions he took, and I didn’t work for a while when I had them…mom is a counselor with those groups and dad’s never slowed down. James is bored! Of course he’ll break bones and test waters if someone allows him to.”

“Doesn’t do that to your mom!”

“Mom does have a way with Barnes boys…” she laughed to herself, “she puts them in their place, and quick!”

“Mommy come with us!” Jamie begged, interrupting the adult conversation.

Stephanie and Kaya agreed, “Come down to play with us!”

“Mommy’s busy babies…I have a lot of work I need to do!”

“Please!” Kaya asked, running up to Cami’s desk, “we wanna show you a card we made…we made cards!”

“A card?”

Sam nodded, pulling the attention away from the girls, “they made you and Nia a card because mother’s day was coming up next month…”

“You girls made us cards?”

The girls giggled, excitedly nodding along. A chorus of squeals met her ears, “and I have to come down with you guys?”

“Uh huh!”

“YEAH!”

“Come with us, mommy!”

“See my mommy?”

“Yes, Kaya, we can stop at the medical ward and see your mommy too!” she agreed, lifting the young Wilson girl up, “after we drop daddy off to go play with his wings, we can see mommy Nia!”

“Daddy us uppies too?”

Sam smiled, lifting Jamie up first, only to pass her off to Cami, who balanced her on the other hip, and then he turned to Stephanie who was giddly awaiting to be picked up by him.

“Uppies!” Stephanie giggled.

“Yeah, yeah!” Sam smiled, lifting her up, “now you three are stuck with us!”

“YAY!” Kaya giggled.

“Mission Accomplish!”

“To tech!” Jamie demanded.

“Yep,” Sam nodded, already starting out the door, “Mission accomplished girls. We got mommy out of the office! Now lets go play with Uncle Tony’s tech and then we’ll see your mommy Kaya!”

The girls were a mess of giggles, chattering excitedly the whole way down to the tech wing, but as soon as Sam let them go to try on the wings, the girls all lost interest.

It didn’t matter that he was the new Captain America, or that the wings were easily way bigger than them. The girls were far more excited by the prospect of showing off their cards.

They had jointly handed off their card for Cami, but the twins insisted that they take the card up to Kaya’s mom. Sam was okay with the idea, seeing the girls were already starting to get a little bored being forced to be in the space that wasn’t friendly to a child.

So they quickly made their way up to the medical wing. Doctor Cho had told Cami that Nia was off in the office, catching up on paperwork.

And surprised she was, when Cami opened the door to the office, and three little girls were bunched up beside her, rushing on in.

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind,” she said quickly as the girls ran to the front of the desk, “Doctor Cho said it was okay and we wanted to surprise you!”

Nia smiled, genuinely taken back seeing her little girl excitedly peering at her from over the edge of the desk, “You…wanted to surprise me?”

Cami smiled at how surprised Nia actually looked. She looked from her daughter to her one time best friend, tears lining her eyes. Kaya was giggling, the four-year-old holding out a mother’s day card that was nothing more than a bunch of scribbles to her.

“Momma, you!”

“She’s handing it to you, momma!” Cami smirked.

Nia rushed around the desk and knelt down to her daughter, overwhelmed by the emotions that she’d felt. She reached out, her hand stroking her daughter’s cheek, before pushing back to tuck some of her curls behind her ear, “it’s beautiful baby.”

“Love you momma!”

Kaya nearly threw herself against her mother, her tiny arms wrapping around her as much as they could. Nia leaned into her daughter’s touch, “oh baby…thank you.”

The card lay nearly forgotten between the two of them for a few moments.

“If you’re willing to spring yourself from Dr. Cho for a bit, we could go and grab lunch with the girls. Sam is testing some new wings in the courtyard.”

“Do you wanna grab some lunch, baby?” Nia asked.

Kaya nodded excitedly, “We go lunch with mommy and momma.”

“Yeah baby!” Nia confirmed, “let’s go grab some lunch.”

Sasha bit her nails, unsure of what to do. She sighed, taking a deep breath as the doctor looked at her, “there’s nothing wrong with your daughter, Mrs. Barber, or so it appears, but we’ll know more after tonight.”

“See, I told you,” Andy smiled reassuringly, “Ashley is doing great!”

“Andy, she’s wetting the bed and screaming in the middle of the night…” she said worriedly, “last week she stopped breathing.”

“You thought she stopped breathing.”

“You don’t have to deal with it,” she grumbled, “you sleep like a rock, Andy…”

“Baby…”

“Well, the two of you will have a night off tonight at least,” the doctor attempted to joke, “the sleep study should reveal any issues that she’s been having and we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Andy and Sasha shared a look before turning their attention back to the doctor, “you mean we can leave her here?”

“She’ll be monitored the whole night. You two are free to leave. The sleep study will end and we’ll have the results by nine AM.”

“Why do you have to discredit everything that I do?” she spat, the left overs to the dinner she, Andy, and Michael had enjoyed, now being put away.

Andy frowned, “what are you talking about, Sash?”

“The doctor’s office, earlier..I thought Ashley stopped breathing,” she remarked, “no, Andy…I didn’t think it happened. It did happen. I was check-“

“Here we go again,” Andy growled, cutting her off, “you check on the kids through the night and you spotted her in a second where her breath hitched. You didn’t have to go rushing in and make it seem like you were saving her life, Sasha. Ashley was fine. You scared her when you woke her up like that”

“I’m not crazy, Andy…she did stop breathing!”

“Look, I get it…the kids weren’t your first option, but you’re going overboard, Sasha,” he said angrily, his arms crossing over his broad chest. He leaned against the counter and glared at her, “but we had Michael. You walked away and left me with him. He turned out fine. When you came back, you agreed to a second child. You wanted Ashley just as much as I did. You can’t keep going back and forth about this.”

“What the hell are you saying, Andy?”

“You need to get help,” he said simply, shrugging his shoulders, “I was talking to Bucky and the guys about it bec-“

“You were talking to Bucky?” she growled, “why the hell were you talking to Bucky and the guys about our relationship, Andrew?”

“Mel’s a counselor baby!”

“Don’t baby me,” she replied angrily, “this is not a situation you can just ‘baby’ your way out of. You were talking about me to the guys…”

“I think you could really help from the support groups that Melissa helps run.”

“I’m not going to that, Andy…we tried it when I went through the postpartum with her, and it didn’t work,” she answered, her defenses building up because of her anger, “my meds are good, and I evened out!”

“You haven’t,” Andy declared, “even before the other week when Ashley supposedly stopped breathing, you were doing things, putting her through unnecessary tests. There’s nothing wrong with our daughter, Sasha…”

“Andy yes there is!”

“No, there isn’t!” he argued, “now here’s what’s going to happen, Sash…because I’m fucking tired of this. Tomorrow morning, when we pick up Ashley and the doctor says there’s nothing wrong with her, you’re going to drop it. No more testing. No more scaring her. We’re done with this endless, needless chase.”

“Somethings wrong, And-“

“SASHA if you don’t drop it, I’m going to drop you…plain and simple. Stop looking for things to be wrong!” Andy said definitively, “because the only issues that exist are the ones that you’re creating!”

“I don’t want to do it, Ari…”

Ari smiled, watching as his wife held their eldest, balanced on her hip, “you’ve already done it once, my love…but if you’re really upset about letting Isaac going to kindergarten in the fall, we could always-“

“Oh no, Levinson, I know where you’re going with that,” Britt smirked. She was quick to cover Israels’ ears, even though the sick kindergartener was in a deep sleep against his mother, “and watch that mouth of yours daddy bears…we’ve got baby ears nearby.”

Ari licked his lips and eyed his wife’s form, her sleep shorts leaving her thighs bare, while the fabric of the cami was pushed down ever so slightly from Israel leaning against her chest, “well…he is asleep…we could put him back down in his bed.”

“Ari…”

Ari sighed, knowing how much she missed spending her days with her growing children. She’d been far too busy at the law firm with her father lately, and had begun missing out on mile markers like Israel losing his first tooth and the Thanksgiving play. And she’d missed Isaac learning how to tie his shoes. And their youngest…Britt was heartbroken when she missed Arianna’s first day of daycare just so that she could get some socialization with children other than her two older brothers.

“I know mommy bear!” Ari agreed, coming in close to his wife. He reached out and took Israel out of her arms, and the little boy snuggled against his father, adjusting quickly, “you wanted to go back to work though…”

“I thought I would be okay…”

“We can talk to your dad together if you want,” Ari offered, “I’m sure he’d underst-“

“No…we can’t bring it up!” she frowned, “you know how much issues he’s having with Sasha…”

“But if this is affecting you this much-“

“Ari…dad doesn’t need the stress…I-I’ll get through it,” she argued quickly and quietly, following her husband as he went to Israel’s room and laid the five year old down, “I just didn’t know that I’d miss spending this much time with the kids…and I mean, one of us has to work…you retired from the embassy. And-“

“Hey…calm down,” Ari said gently. She stared helplessly up at him while he held her by the shoulders, “you are an amazing, intelligent woman, who is a force to be reckoned with, in and out of the courtroom. But you are just one woman. You need to take care of yourself just as much as you want to take care of everyone else. If not being home is getting to you this much that you need an out, I’ll go back to work. I have contacts, and I could pick up as an independent contractor…and I can do it all from home.”

“I can’t just leave dad in the dust…”

“You’re not…and he’ll understand that. You’re a junior partner, and you’ve done so much for him with the law firm. You could still consult. You could work from home if you really want. I’m sure your dad would appreciate you being the one who looks up the background for his cases. He’d love to have some free time. You could step down, and do the leg work,” Ari said kindly, “you’ve always loved that best about being a lawyer anyways.”

“I have…” she admitted, thoughtfully thinking it over, “god, I really have.”

Ari smiled, “see…and you could spend more time with the kids…and with me…”

“There it is,” she teased, “the real reason he’s helping out…”

“Hey…if I get to taste that honeypot more often, who knows,” he shrugged playfully, “I may convince you of a fourth child yet…”

“Ari…”

“That’s not a no,” he smirked, finally letting go of his wife and sauntering out of the room. Britt felt a sense of relief as she thought about what she and Ari discussed. She could talk to her father, and if she really needed to, she knew that Ari would go with her as well and she wouldn’t have to worry about anything other than taking care of herself and her family, “you coming to bed, mommy bear?”

Britt giggled, finally exiting her son’s bedroom. As the door clicked softly behind her she was surprised to see Ari’s shirt in the middle of the hall, leading towards the open bedroom door. As she walked and picked it up, she spotted his sleeping pants just around the corner of the door.

“Ari…”

“Come to bed, mommy bear….daddy’s got a little of his own honey waiting for you…”

Britt giggled a little bit more, her previous anxieties washing away as she lightly jogged down the remaining length of the hall and into her bedroom. Her eyes nearly bulged out as she shut the door. Her husband was laying naked on the bed in front of her.

“Well hello there, mommy bear,” he smirked huskily. Britt’s eyes raked down his muscular, hairy frame. The rasp in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and her thighs instinctively clenched. Her mouth went dry as she watched him stroking his already hard cock, “should we make a little extra time to let mommy bear feel good?”

“Oh I think she more than deserves it!” she purred, sauntering towards her husband as her fingers worked on pulling her camisole off.

#good girls club #exwivesclub #ex wives club #mayor lee bodecker #lee bodecker #devil all the time #sam wilson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson #soft ari #red sea diving resort #andy barber #defending jacob #chris evans characters #soft jake jensen #jake jensen #the losers fanfiction #sebastian stan characters

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