#but when darlin tries to free themselves from the wall

[zozo-01]

i actually wrote a fic based on darlin' and quinn's love a while back (albeit most of it is from darlin's POV).

do you guys think quinn was truly in love with darlin or not? i love hearing about people's opinions about their relationship before everything started going downhill.

discuss.

also plz share ur hcs of them for extra points

[parkerluvsu]

Sorry if i'm asking for too much but girl we desperately need a full fic of cowboy!Art 🛐. Like Art seeing another cowboy approach you and him feeling so jealous and possessive even you're not his yet and him finally finding the courage to confess his love to you but you reject him or something and he starts working harder to get you to accept him 🧎‍♀️🛐

omg not asking for too much at all!!! tried to make this as long as i could but im just so bad at translating my thoughts to words so.. hope u like it <3 (also no i don't know anything about cowboys or rodeos so please forgive me)

PonyBoy (Art Donaldson)

cowboy! art donaldson x fem! reader

late summer nights in july were always your favorite, the captivating sunsets and low-flying june bugs only adding to your enjoyment. usually, people in your small town could be found smoking or knitting on their creaky front porches on a pretty night like this but tonight was a special occasion, with every person who could manage the walk to the outskirts of town or snag a ride in the bed of a truck packed into the rickety seats of the outdoor arena, waiting for the rodeo show to begin. you near the entrance to the venue, tapping your foot anxiously. the most famous rodeo cowboy in your town, art donaldson, is facing another challenger from the next town over. of course you wanted your cowboy to win, there's always been rivalry between your two towns, and now that there was an outlet to outperform each other, both towns showed out for their cowboys.

art donaldson had been the talk of the town since he hit the scene a couple years ago, renowned for his skills and many trophies in rodeos across the state but especially popular among young women and men who found themselves extremely attracted to his strong frame and pretty blond hair. you never caught onto the craze though, thinking he was too good to be true. you'd been scorned a few times in your life by those pretty cowboy types, so you just leaned back in your seat and watched as fans of art crowded around the entrance where he would soon emerge.

as the lights dim over the arena the crowds roars become louder, the claps and woops of fans young and old echoing through the space. you almost have to cover your ears when the announcer yells at the crowd to settle down and welcome the challenger from the neighboring town. boos and yells now fill the stadium, as arts opponent preens at the attention coming from the crowd, tipping his obscenely huge cowboy hat at you, winking smugly. you roll your eyes, turning your head to the spotlight illuminating the entrance where art would soon emerge. the energy in the arena immediately changed when art entered the ring, and even you couldn't resist standing up and clapping and cheering for him like the rest of the fans in the crowd. you swore you felt his eyes on you when he was waving at the crowd, but you were just imagining it.. right?

the rodeo goes by in a flash, you're not surprised that art comes out on top in the end. he rides his horse in a celebratory circle around the ring, when he gets to your section your stomach drops as he tips his hat at you, a small smirk on his face. you look away, reasoning that he probably does this with every girl he sees, a big celebrity like him is sure to be a playboy.

exiting the arena, you looked for your car in the parking lot, lost in the sea of beat up pickups. not looking where you were going, you suddenly hit a wall of muscle, looking up, immediately annoyed before you notice a familiar smirk. "art.. art donaldson?" you step back, looking around for his roadies and drunk friends that always seem to follow him around. "in the flesh darlin'" he flashes that smirk again and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. "no offence but shouldnt you be like at an after party or something? you won today, im sure you'd get free drinks at any bar in town" you don't mean to stereotype him but.. he truly seems like the type to have a different girl hanging off his arm every night. he smiles, "parties ain't really my thing, actually i was hoping id find you out here". you look at him with raised eyebrows, wondering if he's got you mixed up with another girl. "see, well i saw you in the crowd, most people at these things just go crazy for me but, honestly you didn't seem too interested at all" he shrugs. you shake your head, hoping he's not out here to lecture you about his sport, "no, no that's not it.. i just don't exactly have interest in watching men preen themselves, i mean your opponent was being a total duche to me". he frowns immediately, "are you serious? jesus.. im sorry darlin' ill keep my eye out for him, wouldn't want you to get scared and never come see me again.." he trails off. you tap your foot on the ground hoping he'll get to the point soon. art catches your drift, "well anyway, i was wondering if you'd let me prove you wrong, im a little more than a famous cowboy yknow". you look around, almost expecting cameras to pop out and announce you were on some sort of prank show. "are you kidding?" he shakes his head. "listen i.. i don't doubt that you're fun or whatever but i don't date celebrities" you say matter-of-factly. he frowns, finally taking off his hat for the first time that night, letting you see his slightly sweaty blond hair, curled in the heat, "you're kidding. i promise, just lemme take you on one date-" you cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips, "i said i don't date celebrities. im flattered really, but i have my morals. goodnight ponyboy" he bristles at the nickname and you giggle, turning quickly and letting out a breath of air you didn't know you were holding. you barely register his call after you, "just gimme a call princess, ill prove you wrong!". you shake your head, finally making it to your car and shutting the door, placing your head on the steering wheel. that couldn't have actually just happened.. the art donaldson hitting on you.. you knew all the girls in your town would kill for a chance to be in your place, and they would never turn him down. driving along the winding roads to your house, you bite your lip, wondering if you made the right choice. shaking your head slightly you push the idea out of your mind, he's probably out finding another girl to flatter and take home. it was settled, you wouldn't think about him anymore. but as your head hit the pillow that night the last thing you thought of was that stupid smirk of his.

the rest of your week goes on like normal, repeating your routine every day, without thought of your weird encounter with art. it's wednesday, meaning the local farmers market is open. you grab your bag and head out into the world, immediately wishing you grabbed a hat to shield you from the sun. making you way down to the center of town, bustling with buyers and sellers of fresh food. you walked around the market, thinking about what you needed, you stopped at a peach stand to look at your list, not noticing who was next to you. "so we meet again sweetheart.." you recognize the drawl of the familiar cowboy next to you, letting out a deep sigh. "are you following me ponyboy?" you question, looking up at his blue eyes, shadowed by his cowboy hat. art shakes his head, chucking at you, and you hate to admit it but it's a very attractive chuckle. "no, 'course not, you turned me down remember? i know when im not wanted.." the way he says that, you almost get offended. "i- you know i didn't mean it like that, i just don't date celebrities, no matter who they are" you say, looking up at the now very confused peach farmer, looking between the both of you. you pay for your peaches and leave, and to your (partial) annoyance you hear arts cowboy boots against the gravel behind you. "can i ask you somethin'?" you nod, and art takes his place at your side. "why don't you date celebrities, just curious of course" you smile, shaking your head, he really won't give up, will he? "well, i guess i just don't think they're real, too good to be true yknow? most of the once ive seen are just total players, i feel like it's in their nature to be greedy and always want more. no offence obviously.." art nods along with what you're saying, truly looking like he's thinking about it. "geez, you're an expert on the topic aren't you? i would hate to find out you think of me that way, cuz i really aint that type of guy" art looks down at you, walking slowly to match your pace. "well.." you look him up and down, "you don't exactly have the presence of someone who likes to keep to themselves" art laughs, now letting silence seep between you as you make your way back to your home. arts quiet presence is surprisingly comforting for a showboat like him, if you closed your eyes you probably wouldn't even notice he was there. reaching the porch of your house you turn to face him, not sure what to say next. art takes off his hat, placing it on his heart, "let me prove you wrong. please, im begging you sweetheart, ill do anything you want me to do to convince you" your eyes widen, shocked at the sudden advance. "you.. aren't gonna let this go are you?" he shakes his head quickly, "not at all, no." you sigh, "you're very sweet art but.. i don't even know you-" he cuts you off. "then get to know me, i won't disappoint you darlin'" you weigh the options in your mind, the cons and the pros of the situation, with art right in front of you, you can't help but take a chance. "alright, alright. one date okay ponyboy? one." his face lights up immediately, placing his hat back on his head. "thank you, thank you seriously, ill prove you wrong about me" you nod at his promise. "i should get inside but.." he nods, looking almost sad at the thought of you leaving. "alright.. ill pick you up tomorrow at seven, does that work for you" he's eager, more eager than you'd expect, and you're flattered. you agree, heading inside and preparing for the next day.

one date turns into two, then three, the next minute you're seeing each other every night. most of the time art comes to your place, he tells you it's because he doesn't really have a permanent residence at the moment, but you know he does it just to get to know you better, peeking through your books and trinkets, looking for something to boost his knowledge about you. he cooks too, something you didn't expect from him at all, to his credit, he's absolutely proving you wrong, but you'd never admit that to him, he's too cocky as it is. he hardly ever talks about rodeo when he's with you, separation of work and pleasure he tells you, but truthfully he just doesn't want you to see him as that celebrity, he just wants to be art with you. and you let him be normal with you, spending lazy days in bed with him, not worrying about anything. you can't imagine your life without him anymore, he's there when you wake up, when you're preparing breakfast and going about your chores for the day, he's there, when you get in bed for the night he's certainly there too. he'd never tell you, but he thanks his lucky stars when you fall asleep in his arms, he shudders thinking about where he'd be if you turned him down. luckily, he'd never have to think about that anymore, now that he was yours, your ponyboy.

[soulofapatrick]

Feel the Same Way - Tommy Miller x Reader

Summary: “Tommy fucking the reader from behind at the tipsy bison behind the bar counter”

Words: 1.9k

Warning: Smut (p in v) oral F!receiving; fluff; somewhat established relationship

Notes: requested by the lovely @thesapphirequeen​

Y/N’s POV

Jesse and I are make it through the gates, the snow pelting us and prickling our skin as if we weren’t bundled up in layers. Everything aches and burns as I slide from Indiana’s back, my gelding snapping his hooves into the icy snow as if telling me to hurry the fuck up and get him to his stable. He does what I call his happy ‘tippy-tappies’ when I pull his rein from over his neck so I can lead him to his stable where he can be untacked and bedded down for the night by Charlotte - our head stable manager. 

Other than Jesse, Ellie and Dina I’d say Charlotte has to be one of my best friends. We’ve grown close as I like to spend my free time helping her in the stables which is how I got my drama queen of a gelding, I helped birth him and voila he’s now mine. Charlotte helped me integrate into society after being somewhat quite feral when arriving to Jackson. I liked spending my time with the horses as I found them predictable and Charlotte wouldn’t engage me in conversation unless I asked first. She’s a hard to miss figure, being around 5ft 8 with red, shoulder-length hair that gently hangs over her round, radiant face. Lidded blue eyes, set deep within their sockets, always watch delightedly over the horses as if this is the only place she really feels at home. She’s got a scar reaching from just under her right eyebrow , running towards the other eye and ending on her left cheek and she wears it with pride. There's something different about her, maybe her bravery or her sense of camaraderie but people will boast about how well they know her. 

Charlotte takes one look at me and Jesse, letting out a sympathetic sound before she takes our horses off of us and sends us on our way into town with a gentle goodbye. The cold tries to push her way through my layers upon layers of clothing, clawing at any bare skin she can find as the town has begun to quieten for the night. 

Usually I’d head straight home and fall into bed but the dimming lights of the Tipsy Bison seem to draw me in and I’m turning to my best friend, “I’m gonna get a drink, I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Alright Birdie, see you tomorrow.” Jesse hugs me tightly, pressing a kiss to my hair as I lightly grumble at the nickname. Everyone started calling me Birdie not long after I arrived to Jackson as they realised how much of a flight risk I was, always getting past the walls to be found not too far away. It was Joel of all people who gave me the nickname and it seemed to have stuck so to everyone in Jackson I am Birdie and not Y/N. I should be upset that no-one uses my real name but honestly? I’m just happy I’m close enough to people for them to even think about giving me a nickname. 

The Tipsy Bison is empty when I step through the swing doors, the fairy lights dimmed and the music playing softly in the background. It’s past closing time so either of the Miller brothers are probably closing up which means they won’t mind if I grab myself a drink from behind the bar. My footsteps seemingly echo as I drop my pack and coat to make my way around the bar, grabbing a glass and pouring myself some whiskey. Fuck, the members of Jackson know how to make their whiskey: it’s rich and full with hints of vanilla and something smokey, it’s smooth and slides down easily as it heats me from the inside out. I pour myself a second glass, not hearing anyone until a familiar body is pressed against mine and that low southern drawl is sending shivers down my spine, “Who said you could just help yourself now darlin’?”

“Tommy,” His name is like a breath of fresh air as it falls from my lips, his large hands planting themselves on my hips and pulling my back flush against his chest. I lean my head back on his shoulder, tangling my fingers through his messy and loose curls while bringing my lips close to his before whispering, “I missed you.” 

He seems to soften, a gentle smile sliding onto those pretty lips that I have missed before he’s closing the distance and kissing me. It’s slow and sensual, not what I was expecting from him with where we are and how hard he feels against the swell of my arse, a growl slipping out when I press my hips back into his. He swipes his tongue against my bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss so I part my lips for him, tugging at his curls and drawing a low groan from him. One of Tommy’s hands is moving around my hip to pop the button on my jeans with ease before he dives his hand in with no warning. The rough pads of his fingers are swiping through my wet folds until they bump against my clit with a gasp that he swallows. 

I should be telling Tommy to stop when he breaks the kiss to tug my jeans and underwear down my legs, telling him to wait until he’s finished closing up as anyone could technically walk through those swing doors but I can’t. The protest gets stuck in my throat when he sinks to his knees, helping me step out of both before planting himself on the floor between my legs. ‘Fuck me this man is going to be the death of me’ I can’t help but think when he parts my glistening folds before delving in and eating me like a starved man. Tongue swirling around my sensitive nub before he’s shoving it as deep as he can into my aching core, a small scream escaping my lips as my hands fly to his hair. I think my eyes roll back into my head when he wiggles his tongue and his nose bumps my clit, eating me out like there’s not tomorrow and that familiar pressure is already building up. 

“T-tommy!” I’m moaning, tugging on his hair almost painfully but by the sounds that are leaving his throat and vibrating up my spine, leaving me lightheaded, I’d say he enjoys it. The smirk on those pretty pink lips has me wanting to smack him but all my body can do is grind down onto his face as his hands grip my ass tightly, keeping him buried between my legs. His hands on my ass also means I can’t squirm away when it starts to all feel too much, the tightness in my core snapping and I’m gushing. Tommy’s tongue not stopping once until I’m whining from oversensitivity. 

“Fuck darlin’, didn’t know you could do that.” I can hear the smirk in his tone as he pulls himself to his feet while I’m leant forwards, letting my forehead rest on my arms against the bar as I try to catch my breath and stop my legs from giving way. His belt clinks and the familiar sound of his zipper has me wet again at the thought of him hard and how wrecked he looks. Those calloused hands are gripping my hips tightly and pulling me backwards, a sharp gasp leaving me as I’m suddenly full, my hands flailing and knocking my empty glass to the floor. His body covers mine, lips pressing sweet but sloppy kisses to my shoulder as he bottoms out, giving me time to adjust as no matter how many times Tommy and I hook up I will never get used to how big he is. 

The tip is already brushing against that spongy spot inside and his hands find mine on the bar, intertwining our fingers together as he begins to slowly, teasingly, roll his hips in a circular motion. I’m pushing back against him, needing more and he’s chuckling before he pulls his hips back and slamming into me, causing me to cry out. His lips begin leaving hickeys across any bare skin he can get to as he sets a steady rhythm, hitting that spot that makes me see stars with every thrust. I feel like I’m floating, the hard wood of the bar barely felt where it’s smacking against my hips with every thrust, knowing it’ll leave a bruise but that’s for future me to deal with. 

“T-tommy,” I’m whining, the coil in my core beginning to tighten, and he’s soothing me, hands moving to my hips and chest leaving my back so he can speed the pace. We’re close, my walls fluttering around his twitching dick buried inside of me as he returns to grinding his hips instead, leaving me breathless and oh so close to the edge. 

“That’s it sugar,” Tommy coos, one hand moving around my hip to find that sensitive bud and I’m jerking backwards, pulling him even deeper than before, “Oh shit, fuck darlin’!” I can feel him pulsing and he’s trying to pull out but I’m clenched around him so snug and tight he doesn’t have enough will power to do it. I should be worried and angry that I’m currently full of his seed but when the rough pads of his fingers begin circling my clit all thoughts leave me, my legs clamping shut and my body falling forwards against the bar again as the coil snaps and I’m clenching around him. He’s holding me in place despite the hiss of pain that leaves his lips until I’m spent and the only thing holding me up is the bar and Tommy’s hands. 

I feel so empty when he pulls out, unable to move as the mixture of our orgasms begin slipping down my already slippery thighs but gentle hands are cleaning me up with a warm rag. Then I’m being helped back into my underwear and jeans, turned to face the raven haired man who is smiling softly as me, cupping my face in his hands before he ducks his head to kiss me. The kiss is gentle and full of emotions I don’t want to try and decipher so I just sink into it, feeling his broad and strong chest under my palms and the pillowy softness of his lips on mine until we have to part for air. Tommy’s leading me back around the bar, sitting me on one of the stools before beginning to finish up closing the bar. 

“You know I think me ’n you should date Birdie,” Tommy speaks from behind the bar where he’s sweeping up the shattered glass. 

“Really?” I think I stop breathing as I’ve been in love with the younger Miller since he introduced himself to me. I was willing to take these hook ups as it was the closest I’d ever get to being his in my mind, “You want to date me?”

“Y/N,” He uses my real name, coming around the bar to stand in front of me, cupping my cheek in his hand and making me look at him, “These were never just hookups to me darlin’.” 

“Oh?” 

“Hell nah. So…?”

“So?”

“Will you me my girlfriend?” 

“Hell yes.”    

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[little-diable]

Two hearts - Jasper Hale (smut)

Requested by @ravenhood2792 - enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is insecure about their relationship, so, Jasper reminds her once again of his love for her.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f)

Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (1.5k)

How do you explain to your lover that each kiss he presses against your body forces you to remember all the touches of the ones that have broken your heart in two? How do you explain to your lover that each “I love you” that leaves his lips makes your heart twist in fear, wondering when he will finally leave you?

Just like the ones before him.

Jasper Hale was a lover like no other, careful though urgent with his touches, always trying to protect her from herself and the things her human mind couldn't wrap itself around. Jasper Hale was the lover that swore to love her till even his eternity would find its end.

(Y/n) had tried to keep her worries to herself, mind wandering back to the boys that had ripped her heart right out of her chest, stomping on it as they turned to another girl. She had tried to forget about their hurtful words, how they had treated her, but sometimes - just  sometimes - even her walls would begin to crumble.

Just like today.

With her forehead pressed against her palms (y/n) grounded herself, calmly breathing to stop her tears from running down her cheeks, body twisting underneath her covers, tuning out the world outside. How she wished to disappear, to make her way out of Forks, the town whose every corner and street she knew, the town that knew all her secrets.

Her hands tightened their grip on her strands, tugging on the roots to distract her mind. Pain shot through her system, pain he could feel from miles away, body freezing in his step. No words left him as he turned away from Emmett, feet meeting the cold forest ground, fingers teasing the tree trunks that were covered in moss.

She needed him, needed to feel his arms wrapped around her middle, pressing her against his chest as he would restore the peace in her little world. Jasper Hale was the one to save her, the one to show her the beauty of the love they shared, Jasper Hale was the one to catch her - this time around he wasn’t the villain in the story, but the boy from next door that would take care of her fragile heart.

(Y/n)’s head rolled to the side as her ears picked up the sound of somebody opening the front door of her house, running up the stairs as if they were chased by someone or rather something. His golden, panicked eyes met her glassy ones, frame lingering for a second or two, carefully studying her trembling frame.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice broke mid sentence, hand reaching for her blanket, giving Jasper enough room to place himself down on her mattress. His scent met her frame, calming her beating heart, making sure that the soaring waves of sadness began to calm down before they’d spill onto her soul.

His cold lips kissed her warm forehead, mind trying its best to take away her pain, using his power to distract her from the dark thoughts that ran through her mind. Carefully he let his hands wander, teasing her sides as (y/n) pressed herself further into his chest, holding onto him as if the earth was shaking, threatening to rip them apart with its force.

“What’s going on, darlin’?” She couldn’t reply, would start crying once again, so, (y/n) pressed her lips against his. Jasper eagerly replied, very well knowing that she wouldn’t get back to his question, at least not today.

Their lips met over and over again, hands freeing themselves from their grasps, running through his curls, exploring her sides, the skin they had touched too many times to count. Gently Jasper pushed her onto her back, straddling her waist, careful not to crush her. Cold hands pulled her sweater over her head, cupping her naked breasts, twisting the nipples that rubbed against his fingertips.

His fingertips were writing poems on her skin, telling a story of love and pain, a story that would end with the sun rising above the horizon as all pain would let go of the lovers that had met in the middle of the night, in a forest as dark as the ocean's deepest spot. Jaspers touch elicited soft moans from her, eyelids fluttering shut to focus on him.

“Do you trust me?” His husky voice filled her bedroom, danced along the walls she had painted months ago, symbolising yet a new start to life she could only live once.

“I do.” She would trust him with his life, even on days where her mind tried to tell a story as gruesome as the movies that would haunt her in her dreams, as cruel as the words others have spoken, breaking her fragile heart apart.

Soft lips kissed their way down her naked upper body, to her fabric covered heat. One hand moved her panties down her legs while the other lingered on her stomach, making sure that she wouldn’t move away from him.

(Y/n) arched her back as he began suckin on her pulsing clit, his rough tongue brushed through her folds, tasting her dripping arousal, the sweetness of her heat. Jasper hummed to himself as he eagerly ate her out, eyes meeting hers every now and then, clearly projecting their lust and love.

His name fell from her lips, loud and clear, disturbing the peace that engulfed them, making his eyes twinkle in delight. Jasper urged her on to call out his name, dead heart swelling at the thought of making her feel this alive and admired.

Soon her body would hurl itself forwards, time freezing for a second as her earth would crash, ripped apart by the fire that began to spread through her. His skillful tongue took care of her every need, meeting the spots that left her shuddering and panting, writing his name on her clit.

Tenderly he kneaded her breast, sending shivers down her spine as his cold touch met her warm skin over and over again. Their bodies were incompatible, two systems that weren’t made to work together, though their hearts longed for one another like two magnetic poles, pressed together by the electricity that kept them going.

“Jas’, I-” (y/n) bit down on her lower lip, walls fluttering as her orgasm shook through her, worries ending in smoke as calmness stretched itself through her body.

He gave her a few moments to find her way back to him, undressing himself as he studied her with dark eyes, planning his next moves. Their lips met, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue, holding onto him as his length slid through her folds, coating himself with her arousal, making sure that she was still wet enough for him to pound into her heat.

“Hold onto me, darlin’.” Jasper guided her like a lighthouse would guide the ships into the safe haven. (Y/n) twitched as he pushed into her, moaning against her lips, still not used to feeling her tightness wrapped around his length. He wasn’t fucking her like he’d do on stormy nights, wasn’t fucking her like he would in the backseat of his car, no, he was making sure to soothe the ache in her chest, making sure that she got reminded of his love.

“I love you, you're doing so well for me, such a good girl.” Jasper’s words got swallowed by her kiss, tongues meeting just like their hips, moving in a calm though steady rhythm. Her hands toyed with his strands of golden hair, arms wrapped around his pale neck, keeping him as close to her as possible.

(Y/n)’s moans grew louder with each thrust of his, cock rubbing against her walls, nudging the swollen spot that was needy for his touch. Tonight she would allow her mind to rest, leaving the dark thoughts outside her room, clinging onto him as her heart would calmly beat in her chest.

Jasper could tell that she was close, walls tightening their grip on his length, pulling him closer and closer. His cold hand found its way back to her clit, teasing the bundle of nerves, making sure that yet another powerful orgasm would crash upon her.

“I love you too.” (Y/n) came with her eyes focused on him, fingernails scratching his scalp, back arched off her bed. A deep moan followed hers as he released himself deep inside of her, painting her walls white.

Jasper rose from her bed, pressing kisses to her thighs before he left to grab a warm washcloth. As he cleaned her skin (y/n) felt her heart jumping in her chest, wondering why she was worried about him breaking her heart in the first place.

[dominimoonbeam]

Fic #2 for the “david sees quinn forcing darlin to kiss him and gets pissed” request!

I might add more to this one before I post it to ao3 in the future... when that happens i’ll post the whole thing here again and tell you about it!

this one is the slightly more Darlin/David one. set in an AU without Angel and before Darlin has the chance to report Quinn to the Department and before he attacks their friend and they take off. 

tw: violence, Quinn, assault, loss of freewill, blood, trancing

Different Definitions

He didn’t mean to see them.

He tried to look away when he realized it was Darlin in the deep shadows of that empowered club.

He shouldn’t even have been there. He hated clubs but Asher had dragged him out to this one. He tossed back his drink. He wouldn’t even have noticed Darlin if it were physically possible for him to be in a room with them and not notice them. He didn’t know if it was because they were one of his pack, or because he’d always noticed them—always looked a little too long.

They were straddling someone in that booth near the back. A hand slid up their spine, gripping the back of their neck.

David looked away.

Fuck.

He got up to leave and Asher was on him in a second, grabbing his arm and talking over the too-loud music about how he promised to give the club a try. At least fifteen minutes.

David glanced toward the back of the club again, unable to keep his eyes of them. How long since he last saw them? They didn’t come to pack meetings and he didn’t press because he could never be sure if he wanted them there as there because they were pack…or because they were Darlin. It shouldn’t have mattered. He should have checked on them before. But Darlin could handle themselves.

He clenched his jaw to keep down the growl in his chest when he watched that hand on their thigh, gripping tight and pulling them closer, grinding them together. Darlin grabbed at the wrist of that wandering hand, trying to pry it off but the attempt looked…weak. They twisted to the side, as if to get off the person’s lap and he saw their face for the first time. Their color was drained, their lips the same shade as the rest of their skin and deep bruises under their eyes. Their eyes… The club lights flashed over them and David felt a jolt of fury slither down his spine. Their pupils were blown and unfocused. Their lips parted as if to call out to the people walking past, one arm lifting and reaching, but then the stranger pulled them in again.

“What the fuck?” he heard Asher, no amusement in his usually happy voice.

He must have followed his gaze. David started walking, cutting a line straight through the club toward the back.

The man leaned close to Darlin, almost forehead to forehead, his fangs catching light when he spoke right into their face. And then Darlin relaxed again, arm dropping back to their side. The vampire grinned big and kept talking. Darlin rolled their hips in his lap to the music and kissed him. That motherfucker had tranced them. His hands were all over them again, oblivious to the wolves closing in.

David didn’t have to tell Asher was to do. He was beta for a reason.

He could be all fun and games most of the time—too much of the time for David’s liking—but when it ended it always ended with teeth. David grabbed the hand on the back of Darlin’s neck and pulled it free, twisting and snapping bone.

Asher scooped Darlin from behind, arm around their middle hoisting them right up and off the surprised vampire’s lap. The vamp looked up at David, confused for only a split second. So, he knew exactly who he was fucking with? He opened his mouth. Would he try to give Darlin another order? David slapped a hand over his mouth so hard that the back of his skull cracked the wood paneling on the wall and his eyes lost focus for a second.

People in the club had backed away from the scene.

Asher sat Darlin on a chair, turned away from the vampire so he couldn’t catch their eye again. He cupped their face in his hands, asking them questions, trying to get some sort of connection. Darlin twitched, like they were jerking inside their body but not able to get through. Asher kept talking, calm. “You’re alright. Take it easy. It’ll wear off.”

David saw the bite mark on the side of their neck the same time Asher did, both wolves growling low. Well, that explained how the vamp had managed to trance Darlin in the first place. Said vamp tried to bite David’s palm, kicking at the table and trying to break loose. His broken arm was already healing. And why wouldn’t it? He was full of wolf blood. Darlin’s blood.

David pulled him off his seat and turned him fast, kicking his leg hard enough to snap it. People gasped and shuffled farther back, everyone watching now. But these were empowered people and they knew how wolf business worked. It only took a glance to realize what had happened here.

The vamp hissed and swore, on the floor now.

“Call DUMP,” David told the bouncer hovering at the edge of the gawking crowd.

The vampire bared teeth. “I didn’t do anything!”

David grabbed him by the other leg and started dragging him toward the back exit. He knew Ash would follow with Darlin. He nodded once at the owner of the club on his way. The woman nodded back and the bouncers hurried to open the door for him. He didn’t need to make more of a mess in the club, or scare the people who didn’t need to be scared of him any more than he had. So he took it outside, in the broad and dark alley.

He tossed the vamp toward a wall and dragged a deep breath, trying to relax.

Asher had an arm around Darlin, walking them out of the club but turning in the direction opposite the vampire trying to get on his feet. Darlin’s walk was a stumble.

“You’ve obviously misunderstood,” the vampire tried again, snapping his broken leg back into place with a grimace. He shook but David wasn’t sure if it was pain or anger.

“Have I?” David asked.

“I’m their friend. Misfit and I—”

“I think we have different definitions of friends.”

The vampire grinned now, leaning back against the wall while his leg healed. That blood was doing good for him. “Yeah, mine includes them. Since when did yours? We’ve been hanging out for months and this is the first time I’ve laid eyes on the great David Shaw.”

Months? Jesus. Had they been draining and trancing Darlin for months? David growled and he wasn’t the only one.

Asher hadn’t gone far. Darlin was leaning against the wall, looking like they might toss their stomach and he was hovering close by, an eye always on the vampire.

“You want me to believe that you’re friends?” David asked. “You want me not to bleed you out right here on the sidewalk and leave you for DUMP to clean up?”

The vampire hissed.

David looked again at Darlin, twitching like they were trying to break loose of their own still, still fighting that trance. Always fighting. “Break the trance. If they tell me you’re their friend, I’ll let you walk away.”

The vampire tried to stand on his broken leg, probably hoping it was healed enough that he could make a run for it. It wasn’t. He glared at David but he didn’t break the trance.

David nodded and took a step back. “Ash,” he said. He didn’t have to yell. Asher would hear him, already turning toward them, eyes on the vampire and snarl on his lips. “Get our blood back.”

Asher smiled, almost friendly, and then he shifted and lunged. He was fast and the vampire, even fully fed on their blood, didn’t stand a chance with his leg already broken. A few targeted bites and shakes and Asher let him go, circling, watching him bleed out onto the ground and deciding when it was enough—when all of their blood was returned.

David looked down on the vampire, waiting until his frightened gaze flicked up to his. “That wasn’t me,” he pointed out. “That was the nice wolf. But if I see you anywhere near any of my pack again, I’ll be the one that rips you apart. Don’t ever touch what’s mine.”

David walked over to where Darlin was still leaning against the wall. Their pupils were still blown wide and their gaze flicked around, trying to focus on him but still struggling. “Can you talk?”

Darlin’s mouth opened, breath hitching. No words.

“Okay. I’ve got you.” He slid an arm around their waist and pulled them into his side, walking them out of the alley and in the direction of their apartment. Asher followed, staying in wolf form until it started to draw the nervous attention of humans. Although, when he shifted back he was blood splattered and that was possibly a little worse.

[honeyhan-123]

No Body, No Crime

Summary: Sheriff Bodecker just has a few questions about your husbands disappearance that he’d like to go over with you. 

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, abuse of power, Lee is a sneaky devil, very brief (squint and you miss it) mention of an abusive household. 

Word Count: 2.7k

AN: No one asked for it, but I’ve finally written some Lee for y’all. Hope you enjoy! Also, a massive thank you to the awesome @lilithhellfire​ who beta’d this for me, I really appreciate it!

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When you heard the knock on your door you never thought it would be the devil coming to call. But there he stood in all his pudgy glory. Sheriff Lee Bodecker.

You had seen the Sheriff a fair bit in the last few weeks, ever since your husband Trey had skipped town but he had always been accompanied by some deputy or other, and he had never called so late at night. He must know something. 

Forgetting all formalities, you jumped right into the questioning. ‘So? What is it? What have you found?’ Your voice was panicked despite his call waking you up. 

‘You’re not even gonna invite me in darlin’?’ His deep drawl cut through you and you realised he was right. You probably didn’t want to have this conversation out on your front doorstep where any of your neighbours could overhear. You stepped back and opened the door wider. ‘Please come in Sheriff.’ 

‘Darlin, I think we’re past that point in our relationship. Just call me Lee.’ You supposed he was right, you had been spending a lot of time down at the department recently. Still, the way he mentioned your relationship and how he kept calling you darling sent a chill through you. You weren’t his darling. 

‘I don’t suppose I could get some coffee? Maybe even something sweet to eat too? I was up half the night last night and it looks like I’ll be up most of tonight too.’ His authoritative tone made it clear you didn’t really have a choice and so you left him in your little sitting room before flittering off to the kitchen. 

Your mind was a blur as you methodically went through the actions of lighting the stove and grinding the coffee beans. You let the coffee stew as you grabbed the tin of freshly made brownies. They had been meant for the church picnic tomorrow morning but you didn’t think letting Lee have one or two would make that much of a difference. 

You had a million questions and no answers. Why was the sheriff even here? What had he found? Or God forbid, had he found Trey? A shudder wrecked through you as you thought of the unthinkable only to be brought back by Lee’s hand on your shoulder.

‘You alright there darlin’? The coffee’s probably ready by now.’ You gulped and nodded jerkily as you stepped away from his lingering touch. 

‘Sugar and cream?’ Your voice was nowhere near as strong as you wanted it to be and you knew the sheriff had heard the difference. 

‘Plenty of both please.’ You doled out ample amounts into his cup and prepared your own as something to do, even though you already knew you couldn’t drink it. 

The couch groaned under Lee’s weight and he patted the seat next to him, calling you over. You teetered on the edge of the faded cushion and forced a smile as his arm rested along the back of the couch.

‘You know darlin’, there’s been somethin’ about this case that just hasn’t sat right with me ever since it first came across my desk.’

You took a minute to respond, unsure if he was baiting you or just thinking out loud. ‘Oh? What is it?’

‘Well you see, it’s a little hard to explain, but when you’ve been on the job as long as I have you start to notice things. Little things that by themselves don’t matter much but when you look at the big picture, well, it becomes a whole lot clearer.’ 

‘Little things? Like what?’ Your heart was pounding in your chest, your meager dinner of chicken fillet and veggies threatening to come back up.

‘You know, just the odd thing here and there. Like how in the week before your husband went missing you made sure to tell anyone who would listen you were workin’ that Saturday. Or how even though you were at the diner from lunch till close you didn’t take a break. Not once in ten hours were you anywhere where someone couldn’t see you. You wanted to make sure you had an airtight alibi so when your husband was finally reported missing, we wouldn’t pin it on you.’ 

You felt the blood rush down from your head and there was a lump in your throat. ‘Wh-what are you… I don’t understand.’ 

‘Oh no darlin’ I think you do. I know that you and I both know that we can look for weeks and weeks and we’ll never find Trey alive will we? How’d you do it huh? Bludgeon him in his sleep? Or did ya put somethin’ in his coffee?’

‘I didn’t…  I-I loved my husband. I didn’t do anything.’ You tried to stand from the couch but his arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you back down against his body. 

‘C’mon darlin’ we both know that’s horse shit but I am feeling awfully generous right now.’ Confusion swept over you. What was he saying?

‘Generous?’ 

‘Yeah, very generous. I won’t turn you in but… well it is gonna cost you. Generosity doesn’t come free.’ His other hand brushed your dressing gown away from your thigh before resting on the bare skin just above your knee. 

Realisation dawned on you and you tried to shove his hand away. You weren’t about to trade one monster for another. ‘I didn’t do anything and if you had even a morsel of proof I would’ve heard about it by now. In a town this small news travels fast.’ 

Lee let out a dark chuckle that sent a shiver through you. ‘Do you seriously think I need real proof? I can fake anythin’ I want and at the end of the day who’s gonna believe you, some little waitress over me, the man they elected Sheriff? You’re doomed either way darlin’ so why don’t you do yourself a favour and take off that dressing gown and let me see that body of yours before I lose my patience.’ 

You were all too well aware of the Sheriff’s darker side to go against his wishes. With a shaky breath you stood up, glad to not have his hands on you anymore, no matter how temporary their absence was. Your legs threatened to buckle as you fumbled with the knot. The heavy cotton finally fell away from your shoulders and into a pile on the floor. 

‘C’mere darlin’. Let me see you.’ You settled yourself in between the sheriff’s legs and his hands quickly grasped your hips, bunching the satin nighty. ‘Well, isn’t that a little unexpected treat.’ He paused to admire you, his cerulean blue eyes raking up and down your body before he spoke again. ‘Take it off.’ 

You shut your eyes and grasped the edge of the satin, pulling it over your head in one swoop. ‘Oh yeah. That’s much better.’ His hands grasped your tits, groping the flesh greedily. An image of your husband flashed through your mind and you cursed his name. Even in death he was still screwing you over. 

Lee’s hand dipping down to the apex of your thighs had your eyes snapping wide open. Regret of not wearing panties to bed filled you as his fingers did too. They explored your walls, scissoring this way and that. They teased your slick from your unwilling body and you shuddered, disgusted at the effect he had on you. 

His thumb found your clit and started rubbing smooth circles around the little bud. Your knees began to shake as the squelch of your juices filled the room. Your arms involuntarily reached out to grasp his shoulders as he continued to toy with you. A devilish smirk came over him and he wetted his lips before attaching them to one of your pert nipples. 

A gasp fell from your lips as he suckled on the tender flesh in time with his thick fingers. Before you even had time to recognise it for what it was your orgasm washed over you. Your body shook as pleasure made its way through your veins and you could only just feel Lee’s arm circle around your waist holding you up. 

When you recovered, you watched as Lee withdrew his hand from you and held it up so you could see it glistening. ‘Look at that darlin’. This pussy already knows who it belongs to now don’t it?’ You bit back a snarky response as he licked his fingers clean, his eyes remaining on yours the entire time. 

‘Now c’mere. I didn’t come all the way over here just to get you off.’ His hands dipped down to where his belt was partially hidden by his overflowing stomach. He fumbled with the belt before pulling his pants and underpants down a couple inches. Just enough for his cock to pop out. 

You tried not to stare but it was hard not to. He was easily bigger than Trey’s pathetic excuse of one had been, plus this one was flushed, with little drops of cream oozing from the tip. 

‘Well c’mon darlin’ don’t just stare at it. I’m sure you know what to do.’ His arms stretched out along the back of the couch calling you forward.

‘No. I- I can’t. You can’t make me do this. Please don’t.’ You tried taking a step back only to be stopped by Lee’s darkening glare. 

‘I can make you do whatever the fuck I want.’ Lee spat at you, his glare turning positively hostile. ‘I’m in a pretty good mood right now so I’ll give you five seconds to get that cunt over here before I’ll show you my bad side. Five… Four…’ You blinked back your tears as you approached him, straddling one leg on either side of his thick thighs. ‘That’s a smart choice you just made darlin’.’ 

You refused to look at him as you gripped his aching cock and lined it up with your entrance. With one small sigh of resignation you sunk down onto him. The stretch was worse than you had thought and you could already tell you were going to be sore tomorrow. ‘Fuck, darlin’. God… this cunt… fuck me.’ Lee was already breathless as you began to ride him. His arms fell to your hips, pulling you in even closer. His soft belly rubbed against you with every lift of your hips and his shirt buttons which seemed to be clinging on for dear life scratched along your chest.

You weren’t afraid to let your fingernails dig into his shoulders. A sadistic part of you wanted to draw his blood as though that made up for what he was forcing you to do. You gritted your teeth as his lips found your nipples once more, leaving a scatter of love bites on your skin as he went. 

You tried to hold in your moans of pleasure as he brushed against your g-spot but a stuttering of your hips gave you away. ‘Oh you like that? Right there?’ Lee’s hips flexed up to meet yours, hitting his mark. 

You made sure to look into his eyes as you responded, ignoring the pleasure he was causing. ‘I don’t like any of this.’ Lee’s eyes narrowed at you and his jaw clenched. His hand briefly left your hip and you felt the rush of air before it landed on your ass with a smack. His other came up to clutch your chin roughly. 

‘Don’t you lie to me darlin’. I know you like this. I know you do. And do ya wanna know how I know?’ His hand squeezed its way between your bodies, coming to your clit. ‘I know because this little cunt is squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. It’s tryin to milk me dry because that’s what all you women want. You just want a man’s cum in ya. You just want to be owned. And don’t bother trying to deny it because your body can’t lie to me.’ He gave your jaw one last squeeze before settling his hand back on your hip and rocked your body against his. 

As much as his words had disgusted you, they had also turned you on and you could feel yourself getting impossibly close to the edge. Lee’s hand clawed at the back of your neck as he pulled you in for a dominating kiss. His tongue easily forced its way between your lips and he demonstrated his ownership over your body as you kissed him back. His kiss was harsh and needy, all teeth and tongue. You could barely breathe as you felt your toes curl. Your subsequent moans were swallowed by Lee and he planted his feet firmly to help thrust up into you. 

‘God, that pussy is just squeezing me dry. Fuck, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me fuckin’ cum.’ His voice was husky as his lips found their way to your shoulder. You could feel him swell inside you, his body tensing against yours. 

You didn’t have time to tell him to pull out before he was yanking you as far down his shaft that he could. You could feel spurt after spurt of his warm seed fill your cunt as he let out a sinful moan. His lips found yours once more as his hips rocked slowly against yours, making sure you got every drop he had to give. 

When his hands at last disappeared from your body you opened your eyes. You were startled by how flushed he looked, his cheeks well passed being called ‘rosy’ and his breath was heavily laboured. He had a lazy smirk as he openly objectified your body, his arms once again resting along the back of the couch. His pink tongue swiping across his plump lips pulled you from your observation and you hastily stood up. 

You wanted this man out of your house now.

You had satisfied him and done what he had wanted. Surely he would leave you alone now. You dressed on shaking legs and made sure to tie your robe extra tight. Even though he had already seen you naked, you didn’t want him seeing anything ever again. 

You stood as far away from him as possible as he pulled his pants back up and popped his sheriff hat back on. His hand strayed to the tin of brownies you had pulled out earlier as he crossed the coffee table towards you and the door. You watched as he popped the entire thing into his mouth and a little groan came from his throat. 

‘Well, these are quite the treat aren’t they?’ You hated the smirk he sent your way but you nodded just the same. 

‘It’s a family recipe.’ 

‘I’m sure you’re excellent in the kitchen, though, I doubt you’re as good as you are in the sack.’ Your jaw clenched tightly and you ignored his last comment. 

‘My mother taught me a lot.’ Lee nodded as though in deep understanding and you opened the door, eager for him to leave your house forever. He stepped out onto your stoop and turned back to face you. 

‘Well, I sure do look forward to seeing everything else she taught you.’

‘What- What do you mean?’ Dread turned your blood to ice in your veins.

‘You didn’t think that this was a one time thing did ya? You committed first degree murder darlin’. You’re gonna have to pay up a lot more to get out of a charge like that.’

‘But- But you said it was the once.’

‘I said no such thing. It’s not my fault you didn’t ask for the terms. If you wanna remain a free woman, you’re gonna do what I say and continue letting me pay you night time visits ya hear? I’d hate for any damning evidence to come to light…’ Lee let his sentence hang in the air and you very nearly considered telling him he could go fuck off, but then you remembered the reason you were in this mess in the first place. Prison was only marginally better than an abusive household for the little bundle of cells inside you to grow. 

‘See ya soon darlin’.’ Lee racked his eyes down your body one last time before tipping his hat to you. You stood in the doorway, watching as he climbed into the cruiser and drove off down your street. 

You could do nothing but pray you hadn’t just traded one monster for an even worse one.

+

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[staranon95]

DinCobb Week Day 5: Sharing Cultures (SFW)

for @dincobbweek​ with a wedding!!

@astrangebird​ drew some fantastic art and i decided to write a piece about it. that’s that. that��s all of it.

AO3 Link

Wait For Me Here

“We should get married,” Din idly said one day when they were in bed, side by side to wait out the worst of the day’s heat.”

“Oh yeah?” Cobb asks. He’s on his stomach, pillowed on his arms. Din knows this without even having to look because he knows Cobb likes sleeping on his front, usually one leg tucked up a bit, sometimes one arm stretched out for Din as if he’s reaching for him in sleep.

“Think about it. We live together.”

“Mm.”

“We cook together.”

“Mmhm.”

“We fight together.”

“Mm.”

“And we have a child together.”

Cobb snorts. “Sharing custody of your child with a Jedi might be putting it a bit generous.”

“There are also the school kids.”

“’cause half the time I have to tell them not to get into shit they shouldn’t.”

“Still.”

“Still,” Cobb says and breathes in. Then he opens his eyes and Din turns on his side to face him. “Marriage, huh?”

“Mmhm. Unless if . . .”

“Unless?”

“I don’t know what marriage customs are like on Tatooine, and the ones I’ve been invited to were Tusken in nature.”

“Well, shoot, partner, I reckon we go just as hard with our wedding flair as them Tuskens do.”

“Is that so?”

Cobb nods tiredly against his arms and closes his eyes. “Two-day affair most of the time. Eat and drink late into the night, sleep a few hours, and then get up in the morning for the breakfast feast. Everyone comes out with everything. Real big community thing as well.”

“I, I might like to see that.”

“What about you Mandalorians though?” Cobb then shifts suddenly, rising up long enough to lie himself across Din’s chest and hold him close with a leg in between Din’s. “I know you’ve . . . I know it’s not easy for you.”

Din sighs. The fallout from the survivors of his clan is still fresh. At least they didn’t strip him of his armour, but he doesn’t think they see him as Mandalorian anymore. He saw to their relocation on Tatooine with Boba Fett’s help, and finally they can live without the fear of being seen or being caught. But they will not accept Din as one of their own, not anymore, not after he gave up the Darksaber, allowed his face to be seen, and nearly broke every Creed he had taken on as a young adult.

“Well, the weddings were mostly, they were short,” Din admits. “Usually it requires an exchange, especially if one member were coming from a different clan.”

“An exchange of what?”

“Equipment. Weapons or armour. I once saw someone approach the Armourer to ask her how to show them to make a knife for their betrothed. It’s meant to be personal to a degree. Either you got this weapon in battle or you’re offering up a piece of yourself, your beskar’gam.”

Cobb hums. “Sounds very official.”

“Marriage is a pact. You raise warriors. You grow the clan. You protect the clan.”

“Mm. I can work with that.”

Din smiles. “You’re a very agreeable partner.”

“I try.”

…

What starts out as a simple comment quickly turns into nearly a town wide event. Neither Din nor Cobb know how the secret got out. They were thinking, originally, a small affair with their closest associates. Boba is even willing to host at his palace, and Din is fine with that. But then word gets out, as it always does, that the Marshal and the Mandalorian are planning to get married, and now here they are, eating breakfast at Werlo’s cantina, getting approached by one of the mothers in town who’s there after dropping her kids off at the school, no doubt, casually talking like Din and Cobb know what’s going on.

“Marshal! Have you decided on a date yet?”

Cobb blinks and looks to Din before looking at the woman. “Excuse me?”

“For the wedding! Gaia said you and the Mandalorian were planning to marry.”

Din chokes on his caf.

“Um, well.” Cobb reaches out to pat Din’s hand. “We were planning a small ceremony.”

“Nonsense! I know you’re both busy men. We can handle all the logistics for you. All you and your fiancé need to do is show up to the day!”

“Well, Lee, thank you for the offer,” Cobb says, and Din can see he’s trying to be polite about it, but Din knows Cobb has a hard time turning down any of the favours the townspeople show him.

“It’s my pleasure, Marshal. It’s been some time since we’ve had cause to celebrate! We’ll be in touch!”

“Yeah, Lee. See you.”

Once she’s gone, Cobb looks to Din, and Din tries to smother his smile behind his hand.

“Hey, this is your town too,” Cobb says.

“I know. I guess a small ceremony is no longer in the works.”

“They were going to find out one way or another.”

…

From how Cobb explained it, Din thought he had a good idea of what entailed a Tatooine wedding from the settler-slave population. Good food, good drinks, good company.

“Have you thought about a house yet?”

Din looks to Jo as he’s elbow deep in a speeder. “What?”

“You know,” she says like Din should know. “A house.”

“Why would I—”

“Oh. You don’t know. Right.” She pops her lips. “It’s a Tatooine thing. ‘specially for freed slaves and poor settlers. It’s a thing of pride to be able to provide a place like a home. I know my dad worked hard to get an apartment for me and my ma while he also worked to get our manumission. Tiny one bedroom place ‘til I moved out here. But he was very proud of that place when he had it. Point is—what are you bringing to the table, Din?”

Din blinks and reaches for a towel to wipe sweat from his brow. “I hadn’t thought of anything.”

“Let me give you the one up ‘cause I know the Marshal won’t be asking’ for it himself.” She slides down from her perch on a workbench to lean over the speeder. “Man needs himself a proper house. And I’m talking a proper house. Most of the buildings here are temporary. They’re not built for long term which is why they require so much maintenance. Houses underground are the way to be. They take a while, sure, but when you’ve got a village.”

He frowns. “I thought that was for raising children.”

“Villages are for everything here, Din. If you want to give him something good, really show you love him, come find me when you’ve got free time. I’m pretty sure I can help you out with that issue.”

She then leaves and Din tries to return to his work at hand, but he’s stuck on the thought of a house. Of building a house for him and Cobb and for Grogu when he and his Jedi visit. Where they can host friends and not feel too crammed in Cobb’s home as it is. Where they can actually bring their lives and interests together in one shared space. A shared unit.

Cobb enters the garage looking like he’s dressed up to head into town, and Din stands to greet him. “Hey, darlin’!” He kisses Din on the cheek. Din wrinkles his nose.

“I’m dirty.”

“We’ve been worse to each other. Now. I’m headin’ into town for a bit. Told Jo to hold down the fort and you’re here for back up.”

Din nods. “You don’t want me coming with you?”

“Baby, I know you don’t like to travel to Mos Eisley. Take it easy. I’ll be back shortly after dinner.”

“Okay.”

He helps Cobb push out his speeder onto the main street of Mos Pelgo and kisses him once more before Cobb pulls his scarf up over his mouth and nose and pulls his goggles down over his eyes and offers Din a two fingered salute and then he’s off.

Din trudges down the street towards where Jo is leaning against the wall of the cantina. “So. A house.”

She nods. “Come on. Let’s talk logistics.”

…

In what they originally wanted to be a quick and short wedding turns into a several month-long affair as Mos Pelgo comes out in spades to support their Marshal and Mandalorian in tying the knot. They plan for food and for drinks. They send out invites to the local Tuskens, who also seem enthused that Din is getting married. They think it a good match, and well, at least Din has their approval.

The building of the Marshal’s new house is quietly under wraps. All Cobb knows is that a new house is being built, but he thinks it for one of the families in town, even comes by to watch Din at work in the staked-out pit, helping to dig down and remove sand until they come to the more compacted ground that they can put stabilizers against and hold in place before they’re pouring the plaster and concrete for the walls.

Whenever Din has a spare moment, he plans with Jo for the interior. A nice open kitchen. A large room for the both of them with an en-suite bathroom. There is not only one guest room but two. One that will largely be Grogu’s when he’s here to stay, and also one for the Jedi if he plans on staying the night. Sometimes he does.

Then there’s the living room, circular in design that could hold a dozen people comfortably, and knowing Cobb, he’ll like the opportunity to entertain more. Din thinks it’s perfect, and he finds as he puts the work into making a home, he realizes he’s looking forward to it not just for Cobb’s promised happiness, but also his own. He can’t remember the last time he’s actually had a proper home like this. Not since Aq Vetina anyway.

“You’re in a good mood,” Cobb says that night when they’re finishing the dishes after dinner.

Din shrugs. “Just happy I guess.”

“Good.” Cobb kisses him quickly on the cheek. “You deserve to be.”

…

One of the next steps for the wedding is the clothes themselves. For Cobb it means he’s getting a robe made for himself. White, flowing fabric with a fancy gold trim around the hems. It’s a standard piece of Tatooine marriages, and Din feels himself sort of bereft that he doesn’t have something similar.

So he plans a visit to Boba’s because they have a shared lineage, and Din can’t exactly walk up to where his old tribe is and ask, “Can any of you help me dress for my wedding? Even though you see me as dar’manda and probably wouldn’t accept my marriage to an outsider?”

Best not to think of it.

He rides with Cobb to the palace, but Cobb isn’t planning on staying.

“I got business in town,” he says. “Might be a while. You okay staying here tonight?”

“Of course.”

“’kay. Kiss.”

He tilts up for Din to lean down and kiss him before waving him off. Then Din heads towards the palace and is let in by the guards.

It’s one of Boba’s work days, meaning he’s not seeing court, which means he’s pouring drinks for him, Fennec, and Din to enjoy. He always serves the strong stuff, which makes Din’s throat burn, but he’s getting used to it.

“So how is it anyway?” Boba asks, reclined on one of the sofa’s where Fennec can press her feet against his thigh.

“Going well,” Din says, keeping his eyes on the dark liquor in his glass. “The house is coming along.”

“You still haven’t told him yet?” Fennec asks.

Din shakes his head. “I want to keep it a surprise for him.”

“Sounds like you got it bad.”

“And you don’t?”

Fennec chuckles and Boba smiles amusedly.

“Fennec’s not exactly my queen here,” Boba says.

“That’s right. I’m an empress.”

“Still. A house sounds like a good idea. Putting down roots. Settling in.”

“It’s about time,” Din says, taking a sip. He smacks his lips. “But it’s getting close to the day and . . . the seamstress offered to tailor me something, but I was hoping for something more—”

“Familiar?” Boba offers. Din nods.

“I think you can help with that,” Fennec says. “Despite what he might say, Boba’s become a real fashion snob.”

“It’s not fashion when you have to wear it to impress people who won’t take you seriously otherwise. The battle armour doesn’t always work.”

“Sure,” she says. “We’ll go with that.”

“I’ll see what I got.”

They eventually move to Boba and Fennec’s shared private quarters where Din can examine the clothing in front of a mirror.

“If you’re looking for something more Mandalorian,” Boba says from within his closet. “I’d suggest the lavalava. Especially if you’re aiming for tradition.”

“Bring out the blue one if you have it,” Fennec says.

Boba returns holding what Din first sees as a skirt, but recognizes the design of it when he was first living in the Fighting Corps’ barracks as a child. It’s meant to be a more formal piece of Mandalorian wear for more casual settings if one didn’t want to dress up in full battle armour. It’s meant to just sit on the hips.

Boba gets him to try it on right there. “You’d probably just wear a light pair of leggings underneath,” he says.

“Oh, and then,” Fennec says, rising to her feet and entering the closet. She returns with a lighter blue cloak and a red sash. “Tie it off with this sash here.” She wraps it around his waist. “And then the cloak like this.” She lets it sit on one shoulder and brings the two ends together to pin at his other shoulder. “You know, I might have a broach that could fit this. Din, hold this for me. I’ll be right back.”

He does as he’s told and looks at himself in the mirror.

“Not bad,” Boba says. “Colour suits you.”

Din turns a bit to admire himself in the mirror. He looks at Boba in the reflection and asks, with his stomach fluttering, “Have you spoken to the clan?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Last week I think.”

Din hums.

“They’ve settled in just fine. Getting along with the Tuskens just fine, but seems like they got more in common than they do the settlers.”

Din nods. “I had a feeling they would.”

“Have you . . .”

“Not since they relocated.”

Boba hums.

“Here we go,” Fennec says, coming back into the room with a silver brooch—in the shape of a Mythosaur skull.

“I didn’t know you had that, cyar,” Boba says.

“It was a gift from a long time ago. Guy who gave it to me certainly wasn’t Mandalorian, but I think it’s best to return it to someone it should actually belong to.” She fixes the brooch to the cloak and then turns Din to face the mirror directly. “There. Now you look ready to get married.”

Din runs his fingers through his hair. He might want to get it cut before the wedding, but he knows Cobb likes it when it’s longer and it holds its waves more. He should at least shave. The uneven scruff on his jaw isn’t all that appealing to himself.

“Stars, it’s going to be a mad house on the day of,” Boba says. “Seems like we’ll have to bring the good stuff, Fennec.”

“You’re telling me.”

…

In the days leading up to the wedding, Din sees to the final touches of the house, ensuring the furniture is in place with room for more when they make the final move. He plans on surprising Cobb that day.

They have a good celebration the night before at the cantina, drinks on the house, and then, in Tatooine fashion, the couple are separated the night before. Din is headed off by Boba and Fennec to Din’s new house, and Cobb is dragged away by his deputy Jo to his house.

“Rest up, vod,” Boba says. “You got a long day ahead of you.”

The next morning, Fennec helps him get ready for the day, making sure his hair is just right, and the cloak is sitting on his shoulders just so. Boba is there in his armour, and Din feels a sour note in his stomach that he’s not wearing any of his. He wouldn’t feel right after his expulsion from the clan.

“You still want the Mandalorian vows?” Boba asks.

Din nods. “If you can.”

“I’d be honored, vod.”

And then he’s led out with his friends on either side of him down the main street with everyone and then some—Tuskens, out of town friends, some of Boba’s closer associates—have come out in full force down the street as it’s been fully decorated for the day.

The ceremony itself is held at one end of the town where an arch of bone from bantha horns has been carved as a gift from the Tuskens. And that’s when Din sees him—Cobb, dressed in white with gold trim and with the hood up over his head, a red sash at his waist as if to match Din’s without even knowing. His back remains turned as Din walks up the aisle towards the arch and then he’s standing next to Cobb, shoulder to shoulder, with Cobb’s lifelong friend and impromptu wedding officiator Issa-Or standing before them. Din keeps his eyes forward for now, waiting for the right moment to face his soon-to-be husband head on.

“Now, I know ya’ll have come out and taken time off of your busy schedules,” Issa-Or says. “And we don’t have much time to dilly-dally like they did in the nicer districts in Mos Eisley and the rest. Time wasn’t a luxury for people like us, so we had to make do. Which is why we’re here to see that Cobb Vanth, Marshal here in Mos Pelgo, spends the rest of his days married to none other than a Mandalorian! Someone he chose to let into his life, his home, and share the rest of his time in this mortal coil with.”

Din feels himself blushing, feels a smile breaking out over his face.

“Cobb?”

He sees Cobb lift his head.

“Why don’t you take a look at your man?”

He feels Cobb reach for his hand and Din gently turns with a little prodding. And as he turns, he sees Cobb pushing back his hood, and Din feels as if he could cry at the sight of him.

He sees Cobb’s lower lip tremble before he smiles, as bright as Tatooine’s suns themselves. “Din.” Cobb lifts Din’s hand and holds it between both of his own. Then Cobb laughs despite himself. “First time I’ve been without words in a while.”

There are a few laughs among the crowd.

“Darling, my love. First day I laid eyes on you, I knew I couldn’t let you go. And I am a richer man for having you. Even if I don’t got much but my name and my reputation and the good will of the people before us, I hope to give you everything you could ever need.” Then he raises Din’s hand and kisses the back of it tenderly.

“At this point, we’d say a done deal and have a feast,” Issa-Or says. “But as it is, Din is a Mandalorian, and we want to respect that part of him, so he comes with his own vows.”

She steps aside to let Boba come up.

“If you’ll both repeat after me,” he says. “We are one together.”

“Mhi solus tome,” Din says, quietly, only enough for Cobb and Boba to really hear.

He watches Cobb smiles, the pink curl of his tongue before he’s repeating in Basic. “We are one together.

“We are one when parted.”

“Mhi solus dhar’tome.”

“We are one when parted.”

“We share all.”

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

“We share all.”

“We shall raise warriors.”

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

“We shall raise warriors.”

“Oya, vod,” Boba mutters.

And Din finds himself feeling bashful, and that’s when Cobb pulls him closer by his hands.

“Now I consider that we’re well and truly hitched now,” he says, and Din rushes in to cup his face and kiss his riduur in front of an adoring and loving crowd.

…

The rest of the day is pretty much a blur of being at Cobb’s side, being dragged away from Cobb, of Cobb being dragged away from him. Dance until his feet ache and he’s dizzy. More food than he’s used to. More drinks than he can tolerate, and falling asleep in a tent when he’s imbued too much with a pink cheeked Cobb next to him.

A few hours of sleep later and they’re back at it again for a more restful filled breakfast and relaxed conversation before finally, the festivities are over and people begin to head back to their business.

“Do you want to go home?” Din asks.

Cobb stretches and yawns, looking exhausted but content with his station in life. “You have read my mind.”

They walk down the street together, their clothes in a state of disarray before Din is leading him elsewhere.

“Babe, where . . .” Then it dawns on him and Din can’t help but smile. “No,” he says.

Din nods. “Come on. Let me show you to our home.”

Cobb is speechless when they enter the new partially buried house. He’s taken by how large it is, how high the ceilings are now, and how cool and inviting it is. Then he rushes forward to kiss Din and hold him close. “Oh, you are full of surprises.”

“Jo told me it’s a custom.”

“Well, not always a custom, but we pride ourselves on being able to provide.”

“Then let me provide for you.”

They kiss again, deeper this time until Cobb pulls back to rest their foreheads together. “Mm. As much as I’d like to christen this place, I’m bushwhacked.” Then he’s pulling Din into the bedroom where they collapse onto the bed as husbands, as riduurs.

…

“Hey, Din. You awake?”

Din stretches out on the bed and opens weary eyes to find Cobb kneeling on the ground next to the bed.

“What time’s it?” he asks.

“Afternoon-ish. Just went out to get some things from the old place, and, um, I guess now is as good a time as any to give this to you.” He sets a bundle of cloth knotted off with string on the bed before Din, and Din rises up on one elbow to look at it.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Din says, tugging at the strings.

“Yeah, well.” Cobb rubs the back of his neck, a nervous tic of his. “I felt like I had to for this one.”

In the cloth is an ornate dagger with its own leather sheath. When Din pulls the blade, he’s mesmerized with how the blade shimmers. A single piece that looks like it’s been carved from onyx.

“Cobb, I—” Then he sees the mark in the hilt of it.

The mark of his tribe. The Mythosaur skull. On the other side is the mark of the mudhorn.

He looks up to Cobb. “Where did you get this?”

“Well, I, I went to your clan.”

Din breathes out and sits up in full with the dagger in his lap. Cobb comes to sit on the edge of the bed.

“When you told me about your customs, and seeing your armour just sitting in our wardrobe for months, I wanted, I wanted to confront your clan. I know things are rocky between you and them, but I went in there to just speak with them at first. Then next thing I know, I’m sitting on the ground drinking tea with your matriarch.”

Din closes his eyes for a moment.

“And I don’t tell her everything, I don’t ream her out or nothing. I know you hold her in high regard. But I told her I was intending on marrying you and I wanted to do it right by you. No one else. So, she said she’d show me how to make something. And each time I visited, she’d ask about you and I’d tell her that, oh, you were a guest speaker in the school today, or you had fixed the power generators. And she’d tell me my smithy skills were shit and tell me to begin again.”

Din laughs. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“Then she asked me why I wanted to marry you. And I told her I wanted to spend the rest of my days making you happy, giving you everything you could ever need. And she said, he deserves it.”

He lifts his head to look at Cobb. “She said that?”

Cobb nods. “I think she misses you. She won’t say it, but she does. I think it’s just taking some time for her and some of the others to come around to this new world order of theirs. But next time I go, I want you to come with me.”

Din nods. “Yes. Yes, I’d love that. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He kisses Cobb several times and holds him close with the knife on the bed spread next to him.

They don’t plan the trip out to Din’s clan for some weeks yet. They have a house to settle into after all. But then one day, they’re setting out on Cobb’s speeder. This time Din is wearing his armour with the knife at his hip. And this time they are facing Din’s clan together as one.

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

Six Strangers Walk Into a Bar: Part 7 (Severen x Fem!Reader) fic

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Warnings: sexual content, cursing, Homer is a canon compliant little creep

Word Count: 3662

Smut and fluff, ‘cause some people said they deserved it after that angst chapter, but man this took forever to write. Literally didn't edit this cause we die by our mistakes

It was harder than you thought to keep your mind clean. Severen didn't help you by fondling your ass every now and then, and you were uncomfortably riled up by the time you got to the motel. Severen only grinned and asked,

"Something wrong, darlin'? And you gave him an extra hard glare as he opened the door to the motel room. To your surprise, it was empty. Mae and Caleb had a habit of going off by themselves for reasons besides feeding, and you supposed that Jesse and Diamondback hadn't eaten yet. And Homer? Well, you set your food on the table and checked the bathroom, but he was nowhere to be found. Severen took off his leather jacket, arching a brow at you to ask, and you shook your head. The two of you stared at eachother for a moment, and then both of you fell onto your bed for the night. The kiss was all tongue and you yanked at Severens hair as he slid between your legs. The two of you could never expect to get far, even in these moments when no one was at the room. But you hoped, prayed, that you could at least get to third base. Severen didn't hesitate to touch you now, groping at your breasts through your shirt, rubbing and pinching at your clothed nipples. It made your breath hitch, and you nipped at his lips and urged him on with a roll of your hips. He groaned at the contact, rutting back and slipping his hands under your shirt. While you appreciated the foreplay, your time was limited. It's why you pulled your hands from his hair and reached to unbutton the button of your jeans, quickly begging him with the words,

"Please, Severen, please touch me." And Severen didn't need to be asked twice. His hand wormed its way down your pants and you let out a frustrated whine when he rubbed you through your panties. He was such a tease, and you yanked at the hair at the nape of his neck to show your frustration. He chuckled into your kiss, before tilting his head and deepening your kiss. You were already soaked, you could tell. You couldn't remember a time you'd been so pent up. But, well, you couldn't remember a time where you'd gone this long without consistent, if not unsatisfying sex. At least you'd had the privacy of your own home to masturbate, but you hadn't even had that. Severens hand finally slipped under your panties, rubbing through your folds and making you moan pathetically into his mouth. He ate it up, and you knew you were probably boosting his ego dangerously high. 

He used the calloused pad of his thumb to rub circles into your clit, nearly making you cry out at the attention and arch up into him. He started a fast pace, his thumb firmly pressing against the bundle of nerves. It made the fire roar inside your belly, and you felt his fingers gathering up your slick before traveling lower. He circled your entrance, not missing an opportunity to tease you, before he began to sink one inside. His hands were big and his fingers were thick, much thicker than yours. The feeling made you keen, and you thought that just a minute more of this and you'd be cumming around it.

Of course, he'd barely begun to pump the single digit inside of you before you heard a key in the door. You gasped, but he was ripping his hand away from your sex, and helping you button up your pants in a single second. You'd just zipped your zipper and Severen had just pushed himself off of you, deciding to pop his slick finger inside his mouth and suck your slick off, before the door opened. The two of you had sat up, but, it was clear from your flushed face that this wasn't all you'd been doing. In came Homer, a coke in his hand, and Severen glared at the younger vampire as he pulled a pillow over his crotch. He looked at the two of you, and a grin was quick to come to his face.

"Did I interrupt something?" And suddenly you understood why Severen was so mean to the kid sometimes. The pair of you sat with your backs against the headboard, as Homer had refused to leave to give you a few more minutes of privacy. He sat on the floor to watch TV, and you glared at the screen mourning your ruined orgasm. When the pair of you had not so subtly suggested, he'd replied, "Oh, go back to what you were doing. Pretend like I'm not even here." And it had earned him a pillow to the back of the head.

All hopes of him leaving were dashed when Jesse and Diamondback came back to the room, and you sunk into the bed completely defeated. Severen didn't look any better than you, and Diamondback had even asked,

"Did something happen?" As if the pair of you had a fight. You shook your head, and it wasn't long before all seven of you were back in the room. You leaned against Severens chest stared at the TV, zoning out more than anything as he combed his hands through your hair. Thought flashes through your mind. Replays of the feelings from only a little while earlier. Severen had definitely known what he was doing, and, even if you'd gotten close, you hadn't even began to touch him. Quickly, your images of Severen teasing you flipped. You replayed the groan you had earned from him, imagining being able to draw more sounds like that from him. How his skilled hands would tangle into your hair, similar to the way they were petting your head now. How he would guide your head, and, probably, hold you down to slip his dick down the rest of your throat. You imagined going further, how deep he'd be able to fit inside you. If you were honest, you didn't know truly how big he was. Well, you could arrange to figure out soon. But your thoughts continued. You mused about how easily he could pick you up, hold you down. Being whatever he was did have a few advantages. You bit your lip for a moment, a particularly tantalizing image of him pinning you down by your arms, no your throat, appearing in your mind.

You gulped at the thought. After a few more minutes of sulking and fantasizing, a thought occurred to you. While there was practically no hope of all of them leaving, that didn't mean that the pair of you had to stay. Usually, you weren't the type for anything as risque attempting to get off without four walls surrounding you, but desperate times called for desperate measures. You looked at the time, and bit your lip when you saw that it was 4 am. Dawn was still an hour or so away, and you looked towards the brunette sitting besides you. You leaned over to kiss his cheek, if only to catch his attention away from the TV.

"Wanna go for a walk?" You asked, and Severen arched a brow at you. Usually, you weren't one for walks at night, but he was quick to nod. Severen trailed after you everywhere, and you doubted he'd let you go out at this time of night without him. You hopped off the bed and tugged him by his hand, and Diamondback called after the pair of you,

"Watch the time." Even if you knew that was mostly for Severen. Once the door had shut behind you, you grinned and pulled him down the hall. The outside air was cool, and you giggled at the pure excitement running through you. Severen smiled along, trying to catch you by your waist as he asked,

"What's gotten into you?" And you turned around to stop and give him a grin. The pair of you had found the bottom of the stairwell. It was a small little room, but, just under the stairs, it was slightly secluded. Tucked away where no one could see. You flushed a little as you tried to think of your words, playing with his shirt as you tried to figure out how to phrase them. You were never good at flirting, and it was embarrassing what you were about to tell him. Instead, you decided to tug on his shirt and tug him back into the darkness, tip-toeing up to press kisses to his jaw. He followed you until you pushed his back against the wall, tilting his head down so he could capture your lips. His hands moved down your sides, and Severen was quick to recapture his fervor from earlier. He reached down to grip your ass, making you moan into his mouth before one of his hands moved to your front. He rubbed and cupped you through your jeans, and you arched your hips into the touch. But, before you could become completely sidetracked, you reached down to start undoing his jeans. He was quick to pull away from the kiss, his eyes swirling with lust, but he said,

"Wait, wait, not here- I wanted to do something nice-" And while you were flattered that he'd thought far ahead enough to want to plan something, you quickly shushed him. You placed a finger over his lips, before leaning up to peck them. When you fell back on your heels, you told him,

"Don't get ahead of yourself, cowboy." And you were surprised by the surge of confidence that ran through you. You didn't know why, but that was the boost you needed. He smiled down at you, grinning wickedly at the nickname before he watched you fall down to your knees. You unbuckled his belt, deciding that this was the best way to answer a few of your questions. You'd pushed his shirt up as you made work of his pants, sucking a hickey into his side, before you were reaching in to rub him through his underwear. He hardened under his fingertips, and you made work of trailing little red spots above his waistband. When you got to his happy-trail, you nosed along the line of hair before you were finally pulling his underwear down and letting his cock spring free.

It was long and thick, and slightly bigger than you'd expected. But, that didn't stop you from licking the side all the way to the tip, wrapping your lips around it and starting to massage it with your tongue. While you'd only really been with one guy, you had some practice. Even if Severens dick was bigger than what you were used to working with. You looked up, seeing that he'd leaned his head back against the wall. He was never one to stay quiet long, and he quickly began coaxing you through it. 

"Just like that, yeah. You can take a little bit more, can't you?" He asked, his hand finding its way to the back of your head. You'd started up a steady rhythm, and he lightly pushed you to take more and more of his length. Your jaw was already starting to ache, but you forced through it and took him down deeper. His voice had gone a little rough around the edges, and he said, "Good girl. Just like that." And, god, you were wet just from the sound of his voice. His hips moved with the rhythm you'd started, pushing himself further and further down your throat until he nudged the back of it. You did you best not to gag, but, soon, it seemed as thought he was no longer content to let you keep control. He paused your head, pushing it further down to earn a muffled whine and you quickly did your best to keep your throat relaxed. He grinned, and then said, "Keep that pretty mouth of yours open, darlin'." He said, reaching down to massage your jaw. He gripped you by your hair, keeping it so you couldn't move your head as he began thrusting into your mouth. His place started slow and nice, giving you a moment to get used to it before all you could do was let your mouth hang open as he pistoned himself inside your mouth. You could feel tears pricking in your eyes, the quick pace making it so drool was dribbling down your chin. You could feel his dick twitch inside your mouth, hear him as he whispered huskily, "Yeah, just a little bit more," and then- 

You heard heavy footsteps stomping down the stairwell and Severen ripped you off his dick. He was quick to tuck himself away and fix his pants, and he helped you up off of the ground. You did your best to wipe the drool off your chin as Severen fixed his belt, and the pair of you walked around the stairs to act as if the pair of you were heading back up. You passed a stranger, obviously one staying in the motel just like you, and you could hear Severen cursing under his breath. The only thing you could make out was,

"Fucking blueballs-" And you covered your mouth, stifling a laugh. He whipped his head towards you, and you quickly cleared your throat to cover it up. Still, you thought perhaps it was just a little funny. 

Subtle revenge, you thought. Even if it hadn't been intentional. He scoffed, looking around and then backing you up against the wall. You squeaked, and one of his hands cupped your chin and squeezed your cheeks. His light eyes were shrouded in darkness, and he leaned down close to whisper,

"Laugh at me again and I'll fuck that mouth raw. Got it?" He asked, and you tried not to think about the heat pooling in your belly from his threat. You knew that Severen would never do anything you didn't want him to, but the idea of him being even less restrained? Of him taking control? It made your eyes hooded as you stared up at him. You gave him a quick nod, and he looked over your face for a moment before leaning down to recapture your lips. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, letting his teeth graze against it in a way that made you whimper. Your mouth was already sensitive, and his kiss was bruising. His hands wandered, groping whatever he pleased and making you arch into the touch. When his thumb rubbed over one of your nipples, you grabbed his hand and arched into his touch. You whimpered, the sound needy and pathetic, and, for a moment, you thought Severen was gonna hike you around his hips and take you right there. He didn't, and a wave of disappointment filled you. Instead, he swiped his thumb across your bottom lip and said, "Car?" And you thought he was a genius.

Your "clan" had picked a truck with a cap earlier that evening, one that Severen had taken straight off the lot. The first night you'd watched him do it, you'd been fascinated with how quick he was with a hanger. The second the doors were closed the pair of you were back on eachother. There was a semblance of privacy, one that let the pair of you slow down just the tiniest bit. He kissed you over and over until you were putty in his hands, and you heard him start to unfasten his own belt so you could finish what you had started. 

“How can I help you, pilgrim?” He asked, and the annoyance was clear in his voice. Whatever this intrusion was for, it wasn’t welcome. Caleb smiled, a tinge of knowing in his eyes, and he gave you a smile before he said,

A knock on the window of the truck nearly scared the shit out of both of you, and Severen looked through the darkened window to see the slightly dirty face of his brother. Caleb. Severen leaned back in the seat, cursing, before he began cranking the window down.

“Diamond’ wanted me to tell you that sun’s up in a half hour.” Caleb said, and Severen gave him a hard glare. Caleb was chewing a toothpick, and it was one of the first times you’d seen him without Mae. It seemed that cock-blocking the pair of you was a game that both of Severen’s brothers enjoyed.

“Tell her I said thank you.” Severen replied, and then went to close the conversation with a few rolls of the window. Before he could, Caleb piped up. From the look in Severen’s eye, you almost thought he was gonna give him a black eye.

“There’s a camera right there, y’know.” Caleb said, pointing towards a security camera neither of you had spotted before. Right under it was a sign telling them that the parking lot was under twenty-four hour surveillance. You blushed bright red, suddenly thankful for the intrusion. The brunette besides you gave you a look, and he seemed to be able to tell that if you were going to continue your earlier action, it wasn’t going to be here. Severen sighed and shook his head, then gave Caleb a grin as fake as canned cheese.

“Thank you, Caleb. You can leave now.” Severen said, his voice dripping with faux-kindness. Caleb must’ve enjoyed pulling on Severens chain, or at least he might’ve enjoyed brushes with death. Because Caleb had the gall to continue as he stepped back, saying,

“Oh, I might go for a walk. Isn’t that what y’all said you were gonna do? You two get far?” And Caleb’s double-meaning wasn’t lost on the two of you. Severen opened the door, as if he really was going to beat Calebs ass, and the light haired brunette laughed and jogged away from the silent threat of violence. Severen slammed the door closed and sighed, leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed for a moment. You were still curled up next to him, and you gently pet at his chest before you laid his head on his shoulder. It seemed neither of you were getting far that night, and you opted to cuddle up to him instead. Softly, you told him,

“We’ll figure something out.” And he let out a soft grunt in response. He reached down to fix himself in his pants, giving his dick a squeeze to try to lessen the pressure. You leaned over, kissing at his jaw until he turned his head to press his lips against yours. After a quick slide of his lips, he offered,

“We could get in the back.” And you gave him a small glare in response. He sighed, and you could practically hear his train of thought. Swing and a miss. He leaned back in to give you another short, sweet kiss, and you ran your hand over his thigh, trying to find purchase. His breath hitched for a moment, and he said, “Don’t tease.” Before he leaned back in, deepening the kiss. 

You didn’t get to do much more than makeout in the truck, but you’d taken your extra bout of time with eachother to talk lightly. It was nice, just laying on his chest and listening to him speak. You’d gotten to ask a few questions, and you’d specifically asked about his age. He’d grinned for a moment as he laid his head back, and vaguely said,

“You know about the Chicago fire?” He asked, and you furrowed your brows. It didn’t take long to put together what he was telling you. They set fires each night, and you lifted your head off his chest.

“That was you?” You asked, poking his chest. He laughed, nodding and continued with,

“Me and Jesse. It was just me and Jesse back then.” You hummed, thinking about what he’d told you. You tried to remember what year that fire was, thinking back to your highschool classes. You wanted to say 1870-1872. It was the 80’s. The 1980’s. That meant that Severen was over a hundred years old, not including any time before that and the years he’d spent as a human. And Jesse, you assumed, was older. You propped your chin on his chest, staring at him for a moment. You smiled as you said,

“Homer was right.” You whispered, and he furrowed his brows and looked at you. “You are too old for me.” You clarified, laughing at the look that crossed his face. He rolled his eyes, before quickly grabbing you and tickling your side. You laughed, almost a little too loud, but he was pressing further, pressing you back until you fell back against the seat. He tickled you until you were crying for mercy, and he said,

“I guess I’ll just have to eat you then.” He teased, playfully growling and mouthing at your neck as he tickled your sides. It took several cries of uncle before he ceased his tickling and clamped his lips over yours. He’d climbed on top of you, settling between your legs and trying his best to fit in the cramped truck. You giggled into the kiss, the after-shocks of adrenaline still running through you. You combed your fingers through the back of his hair, letting him pull away from the kiss to trail kisses to the corner of your lips, and then up your jaw. 

“You won’t.” You told him, and you could feel that it was true to the core of your bones. “You like me too much.” You said with a giggle, and he kissed right under your ear before he was pulling away. He pulled so he could stare at you, brushing your hair away from your face and trailing his fingers over the exposed line of skin of your neck.

“Plus, I’d rather eat you out instead.” He teased, and you scoffed and pushed him away.

[ambrial-blog]

Surrender to me

"your leaving again..."  Striker spoke breathlessly, while blocking the path towards the door. A look of exhaustion on his face. his golden eyes sharpened.  "I thought we agreed you wouldn't be seeing him anymore sugar-cube" "I thought we could work this out, you and I, being men of our words and all" "You and I both know, what we had was nothing more than pent up frustration!" Blitzo growls from the shadows. "We Both know, that I can't conduct business without Stolas's grimoire" "This isn't about some book, darlin, if it was simple as that I would've stolen it for ya" "You can't leave me!, I won't let you, your making a mistake Blitz" "And How would you know Striker" The Boss imps snaps. "You know shit about me!" "Your as bad as Stolas but at least with him my company can thrive!"  

"I can be anything you want me to be Blitz! just don't shut me out!"  "After all, Striker smirks aren't I your number one,  the one who can lay,  the devil himself at your feet so long as your remain mine and mine alone"  The Cowboy grins thinking he couldn't want anything more.  

"Those vermin you call family abandoned you, when you needed the most- and who did you call-whimpering blubbering hmm... "I set things right, I opened your eyes and this is how you repay me"

That shameless mutt of a daughter of yours,  what did she do Blitz, she left you to go party with her friends. Striker carried on disregarding Blitzo's growl of warning. No one disrespected his daughter- not even Striker. "Take that back!" he growls.  "Do you know a better way to access the human world?"  Blitzo hisses out barely containing his rage.  "I have a business to run Cowboy,  Vengeful clients who pay good money, for me to fucking off someone!"

"I need to take care of them, people don't off themselves ya know- will- Blitzo thought about it and shrugged his shoulders. And Stolas is the only one dumb enough to fall for my dumbass!, and I'm not going to throw my career away so Stella can off him.

"And- before you begin- You shouldn't leave your phone  open around me, I tend to snoop" Blitz grits out.

He's not the only one, grumbles Striker refusing to budge from the doorway. He needed Blitz to calm down. He wouldn't let Blitz leave this apartment. He wouldn't let Blitz throw everything he'd work so hard  to open the Boss imp's eyes. "This is just a set back, we can get over this you and I, you belong by my side as my equal!" as my Partner in crime and in life. "Don't do this Blitz, don't throw me away! like you did all the rest. "I'm not like them, I won't allow you to make this mistake" "I'm your mate, for Lucifer's sake open your eyes!  your hurting, I can see that but if you walk out that door- "I'll have no choice but to drag you back, don't make shoot you Blitzy, I hesitated back at the harvest moon festival and if we weren't interrupted I'd  would've walked away that night with you in my arms. "I don't care if I have to poison you, your not leaving me for him"  Striker growls his tail rattling.

"Cowboy if you don't move away from that door, I'm going to put a bullet between your eyes  and then  rub the heel of my boot into your forehead. growls Blitzo. Striker growls running his claws across the foyer's walls. " He scares you darlin, I see that look of uncertainty in your eyes, I know where your allegiance lies.

Blitzo frantically looks around for another escape route.  "you don't understand,  Striker I can't break free. I know he didn't stand up for me, but there is something about him, that keeps me tethered to his side. "I've tried, believe me I've tried and failed." "It's stupid book, I can easily steal it for you, don't go tonight! stay with me, Striker purrs.  "I haven't seen you in awhile. "We could  take a hot bath together" The Cowboy suggested edging Blitzo's flintlock away from his chest.  Blitzo could feel the heat radiating off of Striker's body as his tail slid up Blitzo's thigh and his knee came up wedging into Blitzo's thigh and presses into his groin. Blitzo gasps. "You wreak of that filthy blueblood, his musk is all over your skin, but I'm willing to forgive you I'm willing to take you back. Blitzo hisses in pleasure as arousal burns through him. "I can wash his scent away, I can replace him, I'll give you everything, anything you can dream of will be yours. "Stay with me, be with me, I could make you feel good again, real good Bossman, the cowboy purrs in his ears

"I can wash it all away" Spoke the Gunslinger his hot breath trickling down Blitzo's neck. the Boss imp shuddered. he hadn't expected to run into Striker tonight. "I can feel you so full of my seed. I can twist in you in ways that would leave you begging for more" "You don't have to be unfaithful Blitzy" "I'll make writhe beneath me, I want you Bossman, you'll scream, you'll twist and ache in ways that will curl your toes. Purrs Striker flicking his tongue gripping Blitzo by his jacket and rips it open: brass buttons fly all over the room as he bows his head nibbling on scarlet flesh. "What do ya say, Partner,  we could patch this up here and now. he growls running his claws down Blitzo's back his bare hands drifting below Blitzo's pant line, and coming to cup a handful of ass-cheeks. Blitzo stumbles on his feet, feeling hot and heady. he needed to cool down before Striker took him then and there.

Static rung in his ears as he closed his eyes and let a few tears slide down his face. He moans, relenting. Striker's mouth fell over his collarbone as one hand came to unclasp his belt. Striker kissed him, and Blitzo melted allowing himself to be dragged into the kitchen. Blitz glanced at the door Striker saw this, and tilted Blitzo's head to look at him. Striker looped Blitzo's legs over his shoulders, digging his claws into Blitzo's thighs. The Cowboy left fleeting kissing, trailing them down a toned scarlet stomach that trembled at his touch.  Striker wasted no time he pernitrates Blitz with one swift thrust. The Boss imp cries out, his nails digging into the floor as Striker nibbled and suckled. "I'll make you forget. "When I'm through with you tonight Blitzy, You'll barely remember why you wanted to leave me in the first place.  why Stolas is so important to you, that bird brained, prince of yours doesn't deserve ya.   Blitzo  couldn't focus to his horror, Striker was right.  He knew the snake imp wasn't lying. But Blitz wasn't ready to admit it.   It had been so long since he had last seen them, he was beginning to forget their faces. And Striker,  didn't allow him to go far.   Blitzo whimpers trying to throw the cowboy off him. twisting, and turning, writhing in pain and agony as the Cowboy continues to thrust: each thrust was punishing and to the point.  Blitz grits his teeth.  He should have never said yes in the first place.  it was one big disaster.  

Stolas was gone. Moxxie and Millie were gone too. All he had left was Bombproof and Striker. Striker was keeping him safe, he should have never deviated from him. but those dreams, those persistent dreams kept him awake at night, and haunted him. Loona, never found him. Blitz had wondered into the ally,  drunk and grumbling to himself.  He was the perfect prey that night.  Striker leaned up, kissing a tear away.   "At least ya know where you stand with me Blitzy, I'll never leave you, I'll never stray so long as you remain by my side.  "Let your business fall to ruin, I'll be here to pick up the pieces.  

Blitzo springs up, just as Striker rolls his hips and the Boss imp crumbles under the might of his prowess.  "You keep on amazing me,  sugar-cube, how defiant you can be sometimes  but I know what makes ya tick bossman, and I know how to please ya.  "So stop fighting Blitz, and surrender to me"

[emerald-echeveria-plant]

The Beginning of the End

Elinor, teaching her baby how to walk: that's it Edmund, you can do it!

Edmund: *walks forward a little. Ends up falling on his face and proceeds to cry.* 😭

Elinor: oh honey no! It's okay, you're okay! Here, let mother make it all better! *Picks up Edmund and begins to cradle him*

Silver: is our cub alright darlin??

Elinor: oh he's okay, he just sorta fell on his face..

Edmund: *cries louder*

Silver: give him here, I want to cradle him

Elinor: *hands Edmund to Silver* careful now

Silver, cradles his son: there, there now tiny. It'll be alright... Sh, shhh...

Edmund: *quiets down as he looks at his father* 🥺?

Silver: that wasn't so bad now was it?

Edmund: eh! (◕દ◕)

Silver: heh, you're starting to get heavy. Your mother and I won't be able to care you all the time now Eddie

Edmund: noooo (╥﹏╥)

Elinor: yessss, besides your other siblings are starting to walk as well. You don't want to be the only one now do you?

Edmund: yee (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ

Elinor: oh. We're still going to teach you regardless.

Edmund: (;´∩`;)

Cetus, walks in: aw, if it isn't the three bears :)

Silver, sarcastically: ha, I certainly haven't heard that one before..

Cetus: heh, I mean you guys kinda are. Besides the two little ones then that'd make you guys the five bears. Not as catchy though.

Elinor: Cetus, have you seen Esmeralda? I saw her crawling around the deck but I haven't seen her since.

Cetus: she's with Andrew and the others. She was trying to steal the silverware again and now she's in baby jail.

Elinor and Silver: baby jail..?

//Esmeralda was in a wooden cage with a paper taped into the front. The words written on read "Baby Jail".//

Esmeralda: ＼(≧ﾛ≦＼) vet me out!!

Andrew: Are you gonna steal the silverware again?

Esmeralda: yeesh! >:((

Andrew: then I guess I can't let you out.

Esmeralda: *Screams like a banshee*

Lyka: ah, she in baby jail again?

Andrew, biting into a purp: yup.

Lyka: she's really gotta stop stealing stuff from the kitchen.. and my room.

Andrew: Well, we've been trying to teach her to stop but she still does it. I don't know how I'll be able to get her to stop.

Lyka: guess this tiny little gremlin needs to be taught a lesson..

Esmeralda: hiiiiiissss (◉`Д'◉)

Lyka: but I won't be the one doing it. I have other things to do.. like admiring my shiny objects while the gremlin is locked up. *Leaves*

Jim, walks over: Esme in baby jail again?

Andrew: mhm

Jim: hopefully she'll learn this time.

Sophie: No. No she won't.

Esmeralda: screw you! I sleep now. *Passes out*

Andrew, sighs: let's get you to your parents.. *picks up Esmeralda* I hope she's actually asleep and not tricking me. *Andrew walks away from them and into the private quarters*

Sophie: huh.. so, this is it.

Jim: whats it..?

Sophie: everything. *Leans against the railing*

Jim: um.. hon, I'm not- I'm not understanding what your saying.

Sophie: no it's just. I never expected things to become this way.

Jim: What way? Us being with amazing people and making a found family with them? Silver and Elinor having cubs? Everything in our lives becoming great?? Yeah, I never would've expected it either.

Sophie: heh, yeah. It's really wonderful isn't it?

Jim: it is.. but not as wonderful as you.

Sophie, blushes: oh Jim 💕

//just as they were about to kiss, Tori pokes her head in between the two.//

Tori: HEY what are you guys talkin about??? :DD

Jim: AH! Oh.. Tori, it's just you. You scared me there.

Sophie: Christ you almost gave me a heart attack, don't do that again..

Tori: sorry, just tryin' see what you guys were doin!

Jim: we were just talking about some things on our minds..

Tori: oooo, what kinds of things (✧ω✧)

Sophie: how we never expected this lovely outcome.. I feel like I'm finally happy and relieved. Ever since, you know, my dad passed away... But I can't shake this feeling like something is going to go wrong.

Jim, puts his hand on her shoulder: hey, everythings going to be okay.

Sophie: but what if it doesn't?? What if someone or something is waiting to ruin our happy moments? To destroy our found family..

Jim: that will never happen! And I'll make sure it won't, you know why?

Sophie: why..?

Jim: because as long as we have each other, we'll pull through. Like we always do..

Tori: Jim's right! It's not like there's some sort of powerful villain out there with an equally powerful lackey that'll plan to destroy us all!

Sophie:

Jim:

Tori:

Sophie: that's very specific Tori.

Tori: ha, I know! Been feeling weird lately :D

Jim: it's problem not something to worry about.. Come on, let's go get some stew to get this off our minds.

Sophie: bonzabeast stew?

Jim: bonzabeast stew :)

Sophie: :D

Tori: :D

//As the threw went to the kitchen to get themselves some stew.

On a distant planet on the far end of the etherium, was a building. On the walls described various awful things that happened to people. All under the power of one individual... In the center of the building was a well with a lid. Behind it were mechanical chains connecting to the well and it's lid. Next to the well was a lever but with a warning sign. "An unleashment of hell awaits to those set free the beast". A hooded figure walked towards the well. They read the sign but paid no attention to what the warning implemented. The hooded figure pulled down the lever. The chains clanked together as they appeared to be pulling something up. The lid slowly opened up.

From a platform rose a dark haired woman, wrapped with hundreds of chains. She was on her knees and her head hung low. The hooded figure released her from her imprisonment of chains. When they finished untying her, the woman lunged at the hooded figure. She pinned them against the floor with her hands wrapped around their neck.//

??: Who. Are. You..?

??: I. CAN'T... BREATH!

??: Can't breathe? What type of name is that??

??: NO! I LITERALLY CAN'T BREATHE! YU-YOU'RE chOKING ME!

??: Wait.. *let's go of their neck* you sound familiar..

??, Takes in a deep breath and sighs; eh.. you know even after five hundred years, you're still as strong as ever Queen Hatred.

Hatred: what..

??: Don't recognize me with a hood now don't cha? Heh, that's okay... I've been meaning to loose it. *Proceeds to take off the hooded cape*

Hatred, not surprised: Veronica. My loyal servant. How nice of you to drop by.

Veronica: yup its me! Your most loyal servant! Since you know, most of your other servants wanted you dead- but uh, besides that. I'M SO HAPPY YOU'RE ALIVE! I mean I had a feeling you were alive and I was totally right. I guess wasting all those hundreds of years to rebuild my life was for nothing- *proceeds to get punched in the face*

Hatred: it's been five hundred years and you didn't even bother to look for me in the first place???

Veronica: hey, hey! I didn't know where to look for you! It was HARD! There wasn't a ton of clues at first but hey I managed to find you!

Hatred: ugh.. five hundred years.. five hundred blood years I've been stuck in that well.. my dress has been starting to grey from staying in that dirty water. Do you any form of good news to give me at least..?

Veronica: well, there's good news and very, very, very bad news..

Hatred: what's the good news?

Veronica: your theological influence has and still affects thousands of people!

Hatred: I knew that already.

Veronica: oh.. then I suppose you don't want to hear the bad news.

Hatred: Veronica. What's the bad news..?

Veronica: erm.. your kingdom is now under the control of the Terran empire and they confiscated your staff.

Hatred: WHAT!??!

Veronica, nervously: and your armies were all put to death.. after people realized there was no way changing them back.. I'm sorry..

Hatred, breathes heavily: I am beyond angry at this point but I will save my rage for whoever is in charge of the empire so that I'll be satisfied when I.. TEAR OUT THEIR SPINE!

Veronica: do mind my interruption but uh, how will you accomplish such goal? You don't have an army, all your supporters are long dead, your staff is being held captive somewhere, and your poor Carrion is-

Hatred: dead. I know. I saw him with my very eyes die before me. He tried to protect me.. now that was the truest form of loyalty that I had ever seen.

Veronica: besides me right..??

Hatred:

Veronica:

Hatred: sure. Now then, we must retrieve my staff and then I'll plot my revenge from there. Do you know where it is?

Veronica: It's in the Terran Castle but I must warn you, it's very guarded. They really don't want it to be left out of sight. Anyone under suspicion of stealing it could be put in jail or even worse.. executed.

Hatred: hm, it's a good thing I have you as a body shield in case anything goes wrong. Now then, let's go to Terran to get back what's rightful mine.

Veronica: so we're just gonna barge in there or is there a plan?

Hatred: I'll come up with one when we get there. And once I get back my staff, I'll destroy Terra for trying to getting rid of it's Savior... The eitherium will finally know peace now that I've returned.

(Cetus and Andrew belong to @aalbliii

Sophie belongs to @sleeplessdreamer14

Elinor, Esmeralda, Edmund, Hatred, and Veronica belong to me

Tori belongs to @authorchanlove

Lyka belongs to @princssealexis165)

[adamdrivercouldchokeme]

Clyde Logan - NSFW Alphabet  PART 1

Here it is, I spent way to long deciding if balls or sack sounded better but I finally finished part 1. I would love feedback but please be gentle with me as this is the first time I have written anything like this. If you enjoy this and want to be tagged in part 2 let me know.

Warnings: Smut, slight cum eating, unprotected sex and a hell of a lot of love for the mountain man that consumes my thought 24/7!

This is also Clyde Logan x female!reader

Word count: 1.5k

A = Aftercare (What they are like after sex)

Clyde Logan is the king of aftercare, there is nothing your southern gentleman enjoys more than cuddling after sex. After going into the bathroom and getting a damp cloth to wipe the mess you both created from between your legs, he wants nothing more than to cuddle with you. He loves it when you curl into his right side and lazily draw patterns and place delicate kisses over his chest, while he lazily runs his fingertips over your exposed spine as he tells you how good you were for him and how much he loves you. With the warmth and comfort that encompasses the both of you just by being in each other’s presence it’s not long before you both slowly drift off to sleep.  

 B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Clyde loves every part of you and can’t believe how lucky he is that you let him love on you. Saying that, he is without a doubt both a tits and ass man. A couple of his favourite things are putting his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, giving your ass a cheeky squeeze or resting his hand on your ass even if he’s just leaning down to steal a quick kiss or snuggling with you on the couch while you watch tv. It’s both a sexual and comfort thing for him and you’re definitely not complaining. Clyde also likes to be the big spoon as he can’t help but press himself against you as he knows you’ll rub your ass on his crotch, then act all innocent pretending you’re not doing anything to work him up.

Clyde has always been self-conscious, that only increased when he lost his hand but with the abundance of praises and compliments you give him daily, he’s learning to love himself more and more. His favourite body part on himself are his thighs, as you always tell him how much you love how thick and strong they are, perfect for riding you always say, he enjoys when you rake your nails over them which causes goose bumps to rise all over his skin or holding the backs of them while you tease and suck his cock.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Clyde’s favourite places to cum are obviously your tits and ass as mentioned before he’s a big fan of them.

You drive him absolutely insane after he pulls out of you straddling your thighs as he strokes his hard cock leaning over your tits as you pinch and twist your nipples begging him to cum all over you. When he does cum it goes everywhere, landing on your lips and chin but he does make sure to get it over you tits coating your nipples in his warm, thick spend, his eyes rolling back as you swipe your fingertips though the mess before bringing them to your lips, licking them clean while looking straight at your man. The reaction he has to this always makes you rub your thighs together.

Another place he likes to cum is inside you. The sensation Clyde has from cumming inside your tight pussy is just completely primal, the way he can’t help but moan into your ear while you tell him the magic words “Cum for me, fill me up baby!” This has him not only releasing deep inside the warm walls of your pussy but also a deep growl that comes straight from his chest, the sound along with the feeling of his cock pulsing could make you cum again. After he pulls out, he will lean back and watch as his cum will start to drip back out of you. Watching it run down to your ass before using his thick fingers to scoop it up and push it back into you. “Darlin, keep it safe for me” Only until he’s ready to add more later.

  D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Clyde has always prided himself on being a gentleman and he’s always the prefect gentleman to you. He likes to make sure that he gets doors for you, pull your chair out when you go to a restaurant and the poor man even held back when you first started dating as he didn’t want to scare you off. He is only human so he’d get so hard at the thought of you, he just couldn’t help touching himself before and after he saw you. He would create these fantasies in his head while slowly teasing himself over his boxers until he couldn’t take much more, pulling himself free from the confines of his boxers and stroking his entire length whispering your name over and over until he spills all over his tummy. Wishing desperately, you were there to lick it up, the thought making his softening cock twitch.

This went on for a few weeks until one day you finished work early and went over to his trailer to surprise him. You opened the front door after discovering it was already unlocked, then you heard noises coming from down the hall, worried that you thought Clyde could be in pain you followed the noises to the slightly cracked door of Clyde’s room.

“Clyde, are you okay?” You asked, pushing the door open a little more. He must not have heard you as you’re met with the most delicious sight you could have ever witnessed. Clyde sprawled out on his bed, his boxers pushed just below his full balls. His arm across his face where his dark hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead while his hand was gliding over his slick cock. “Oh fuck, Y/N. Yer pussy is so tight, so good for me” he moans freely, still thinking he’s alone. That’s until you take another step forward (curiosity getting the better of you) the floorboards creaking underneath your feet, Clyde almost jumping right out of his skin stopping his hand instantly. He tries to cover himself with his thin sheets while trying to explain what he was doing “Sh- shit, I’m so sorry darlin! Let me just-” he babbles, cheeks flushed with arousal and embarrassment as he’s not really sure what to say. “It’s okay baby, everybody touches themselves. It’s healthy” You say, trying to reassure him as well as calm his nerves. His mouth just opens and shuts repeatedly looking down at the very obvious rise under the sheets then back to your face, still unsure on what to say. “Baby, can I come sit with you? You ask before Clyde nods in reply. You slowly move towards him before getting comfortable next to him, gently grabing his chin turning his face towards. You run your nails through his beard before kissing his pouty bottom lip. “I promise it’s okay, Clyde. If you’re comfortable, I’d like to see all of you” You reassure him, Clyde swallows audibly. “Darlin, I-” “Maybe you could show me what you were doing, show me how you enjoy being touched” You ask him, running your nails up and down his arm causing him to shiver.

He drags the sheets away from his erection as you start to kiss his jawline before working your way up to his lips, Clyde instantly kissing you back as he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, dragging it up and down before twisting around its flushed head. The deepest moans coming up his throat and being released from his lips. “I bet that feels so good, would you like me to try?” Clyde moans in response as you wrap your much smaller hand around his large cock, taking your time to admire how thick and warm it is as well as the long ridges it has that make him buck his hips when you run your fingernails across them. You take his balls in your other hand, massage them softly with your fingers as you move your hand faster making sure to take in the beautiful sight of your man glistening with sweat as he barely can control his movements from the pleasure you’re giving him. “Please, I’m so close�� You kiss him while continuing to work your hands on him, as you feel him get harder and twitch, when all of a sudden he pulls his mouth away from yours letting out the loudest moan of your name. “Oh, shit! Y/N! fuck, I’m gonna cum. Y/N” Before cumming all over your hands and his stomach. He just has to lie there for a minute taking in what just happened as his body still shakes from the aftermath of his orgasm. He opens his mouth to thank you but lets out a deep growl as you lean down and swipe your tongue through the puddle of cum resting on his lower stomach. “Delicious” You say with the biggest smile on your face then before you can register it Clyde flips you over ready to return the favour. All the while thinking, how did he get so lucky?

Tags: @contesa-lui-alucard 

[musekicker]

So basically this drabble is parts of episode 5 if fusion were a thing. Naturally spoilers for episode 5. And warnings for a lot of swearing, which is natural for this fandom but still warning for it.

The games were as fun as Blitz hoped for. All the competition and sheer chaos that was promised in the event was there.

Even better, there was Striker.

Not only did the guy have a cool horse but Striker himself was interesting. They got along so well that more then once during the games the two had nearly fused right then and there in front of a large crowd. A sort of natural reaction to how in sync they were feeling.

As much as that would had been quite the show, Blitz had not given in to that urge. He was more interested in showing off his own induvial talents at these games.

It almost didn't matter by the end of it as the both of them had came in first place at the games.

All in all, a good fucking day. At least it was until Blitz caught Striker in Millie's parents house, at the window with a view of the stage in the festival and just about to kill Stolas with a heaven blessed weapon, 

Well, that couldn't stand.

Blitz let Striker know as much, his gun aimed at Striker. On his end, Striker didn't seemed concerned. More like amused. Which honestly pissed Blitz off more.

But then Striker starting moving forward and Blitz backed up a bit before he knew it. Then Striker began talking. Of things like how he and Blitz were superior to most of their kind. Or how Stolas just used Blitz as a play thing. That Blitz could do so much better.

Striker was just throwing out a flurry of words that were both partially truth and things that Blitz had not ever thought he would be hearing out loud from anyone. Blitz was struggling with so many things with these words. So busy in his own head he didn't realize he was being directed to the wall until his back was to it.

Now Striker had Blitz up against the wall, hands braced on the wall on either side of Blitz's head. Looking up into the eyes he could feel the urge to just drop the gun aimed at Strikers chest.

Was that some unknown power of Strikers? Or was that all him?

Striker, noting the hesitation continued on.

"Fuse with me." Striker said.

Blitz looked up at Striker with a questioning look.

"Come on Blitz." Striker said, sounding almost amused by Blitz's clear confusion.

The tension in the room suddenly seemed to rise. Up to higher levels of it until something would soon snap.

"You know that we nearly fused more then once during the games. So I know you wouldn't be adverse to fusing with me." Striker said.

Blitz didn't even attempt to act like that wasn't true. Striker clearly had felt the same way during the games, given how he had grinned at Blitz each time it nearly had happened. Always pushing a bit closer and closer to the edge of actual fusion.

"Together we'll take down this blue blood. Both our fingers will be on that trigger. And then we can be the most dangerous thing in hell." Striker said.

"That's... a good fucking pitch." Blitz said.

"Been work shopping it." Striker admitted.

In the moment it was tempting. 

Blitz couldn't deny there was something about Striker that made him want to just throw everything and run off with this guy.

Not that he was going to, as tempting as it really was. Not with Loona and his employees in his life.

Thankfully he did not have to distract for very long. Moxxie showed up, gun aimed at Striker. Too bad the fucker even got the upper hand back quickly. Enough so that Blitz tried to call Loona. When he realized she was going to be taking her time, Blitz took matters in his own hands, or rather foot when he kicked up at Strikers leg.

More fighting, and Blitz fought just as viciously as Striker. It was after Blitz slammed him across the face with his horns did Striker realize he would not be able to continue his job. But there was still a way that Striker could get at the very least one thing he wanted.

"Should had said you wanted to dance, darlin." Striker said, getting a hold of Blitz's arm during the battle.

There was a interesting belief about fusions. The strong ones often learned their fusion trigger actions fast. Some of them danced, some held hands. Some even jumped into the others arms.

Striker knew those things would not work with his and Blitz's fusion.

"What the fuck are you-" Blitz started to say.

Striker pulled Blitz close, chest to chest, and in one, swift action slammed his lips up against Blitz's. The fusion started to form immediately. 

"Sir!" Moxxie cried, far too late to stop the fusion.

Smoke was swirling in the air. Bright, swirled, green eyes were suddenly visible in the smoke and then the smoke cleared.

The new fusion form stood tall, it's form clad in a long, black coat, that seemed to move in the wind though they were inside and there was no heavy breeze present. The coat went up far enough that it, a hat, and a red scarf hid the face of the fusion. All except those green eyes.

Other details were the two sets of horns. One Blitz's horns and one Strikers. The tail meanwhile was longer then normal and whip like as it moved.

The new fusion looked down at his hands a moment, seeming surprised this had worked. Then a small laugh.

"I feel like our name is Outlaw." the new form said, looking down to Moxxie.

Moxxie's eyes went wide at the appearance of this fusion. With Blitz fused with him like this, Moxxie could not shoot. Not if he didn't want to risk killing his own boss.

"Oh crumbs." Moxxie said.

The fusion should had fallen apart. That was how fusions where all parties were not agreed worked, right? Yet here Outlaw was, still walking towards Moxxie with menace, tail lashing the air.

"Time to take you out for good, vermin." Outlaw said.

Outlaw suddenly stopped in their steps, clutching one arm and shaking.

"No. We are NOT fucking doing this!" Blitz's voice cried from the Outlaw form.

Blitz was trying to get free of the form. The Striker part of the fusion however was not easily letting Blitz go. 

"You think you can fight your way out of this? Not happening." the Striker part of the fusion said.

Moxxie considered running for help at this moment. But he also feared if he left Outlaw would just leave, taking Blitz with it. So he just stood there as he didn't know how to help his boss with this battle.

Outlaw suddenly straightened up and was no longer shaking.

"Now now. Behave." Outlaw said, clearly no longer in odds with itself. At least not in a way that was visible to Moxxie.

Now Outlaw's attention was back on Moxxie. The fusion summoned two guns to it's hands. Jet black things with hellfire glowing inside the barrels. Moxxie would be more impressed by the guns if his life were not in danger right now.

"Sir.. sir please. You don't want to do this." Moxxie said.

Outlaw laughed.

"You think you can reach him? Good luck. I've got my claws in him and I'm not letting go." Striker said.

The guns were aimed at Moxxie. Moxxie very well would had died right then if the door to the room slammed open, nearly hitting Moxxie.

Loona was here.

"Okay I'm here. What do you want?" Loona grumbled.

She looked around the room before seeing Outlaw. Outlaw turned on Loona, eyes narrowed. Loona, sensing ill intent right away snarled and readied to attack.

"Loona wait! Blitz is in that fusion!" Moxxie cried.

That was enough to stop Loona in her tracks.

"What?" she asked.

 The moment that Outlaw trained their guns on Loona the shaking from before happened again, this time more intense.

One arm gripped the other, pushing down and forcing at least one of the guns to face down to the floor.

"No! You will not hurt my daughter!" Outlaw roared, in two different voices rather then one.

Then Outlaw slammed themselves against the wall, forcing the other hand to drop it's gun. It took about a minute more of shouting, sometimes in one voice and sometimes in two. And it took a lot more frantic action of fighting with ones self.

In one final slam against the wall, fusion had finally fallen apart. Loona and Moxxie hurried over to Blitz.

"Are you okay?" Moxxie asked.

Blitz sat up grumbling.

"Just help me up to blow a hole in that fuckers skulls." Blitz snarled.

Sadly when the three looked to where Striker was last, he was already gone.

"Shit." Blitz growled.

Blitz started to his feet and stumbled. After that forced fusion and fighting it so hard, Blitz was just drained.

He let Moxxie help support him to his feet.

"I need a nap." Blitz grumbled.

As he, Moxxie, and Loona exited the room Blitz could only think of two things.

The first was how easily Striker had been able to trap him in the fusion for that long. 

And the second and most worrying though. 

This was not over.

[monsterlovinghours]

Rescue

new don dropped! here's a little ficlet i wrote for @realmonsterboyhours and the new don she came up with. enjoy!

cw: kidnapping, death, gore

There hadn’t been time to call for help. There hadn’t been time to run, or scream, or even draw breath. One moment, you were walking down an empty street at twilight, your arms aching from the bags looped around your wrists, containing your purchases. You had spent more than you meant to, but not nearly as much as your lovers encouraged you to spend; two lifetimes could pass and you would still never get used to the seemingly endless wealth you now had access to. You were excited to show the others what you had bought, excited to model some of your new outfits and see which of the dons would reach you first to rip it off of you. You weren’t paying attention. You should have been looking around. You should have been more aware. One moment, you were hopeful, at peace. The next, you were waking to pain and semi-darkness, unaware that you had passed out at all.

You tried to move, tried to bite back the rising panic as you found your wrists bound, cuffed together and looped through the rungs of a metal chair. You tried rocking from side to side to find that not only had your ankles been cuffed as well, but the chair itself had been bolted to the floor. Tears stung your eyes and the back of your throat, but you willed yourself to be still, to swallow down the terror and listen. Beyond your racing heart, you could gentle murmuring from the next room, the sound of at least three different voices speaking, perhaps as many as five or six. Not that you could determine much through the pounding pain in your skull and the thudding of your heart. The room smelled dusty, bare except for the single floor lamp in the corner behind you, the light dim and casting deep shadows. How long had you been out? Had anyone noticed you were gone yet? How long would it take for them to come looking for you, and would you be able to survive until they found you?

Your lips trembled, and you bit them, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Crying wouldn’t help, crying wouldn’t fix anything. All it would do is dehydrate you and make your headache worse. Of course they would find you, you reasoned to yourself. You were loved by some of the most powerful men in the world, and definitely some of the most dangerous. They would notice your absence and would be quick to find you. There was nothing to fear.

Almost as soon as you had that thought, there was a soft yell from the other room, then muffled shouts and the sounds of a quick struggle, chairs scraping against the floor and things being knocked against the walls. Things went quiet, and you held your breath, not knowing if your saviors had arrived, or if a different, nastier threat had presented itself.

A bloodied hand emerged from the doorway, dragging behind it the injured body of a man that seemed vaguely familiar to you, his face now contorted with pain and fear, both broken legs sliding uselessly along the rough concrete floor. You let out a startled sound at the sight of him, and someone poked their head through the door. Someone with ice-blue eyes, jet black hair, and a willowy frame. Someone you recognized with a wash of relief.

Bjalla. The elusive seventh member of the Conglomerate. You hadn’t known them long, and while they had always been cordial towards you, you hadn’t gotten to know them extraordinarily well; at least, not as well as you’d like. They seemed fascinating, though somewhat distant and aloof and, well, almost snobbish. As if everyone were beneath them. But here, in this very moment, they were the person you loved most in the entire world.

Their gaze locked on you, seemed to scan you quickly for signs of injury, then dropped to the broken man on the floor. Teeth that were too sharp to be human were exposed in a grin that, if not for the razor points within, might have been friendly. “Ah, there you are. I thought I miscounted.” In a couple strides they were close enough to plant the heel of their expensive boot on the man’s back, pinning him to the ground and staying his escape. Once again, their gaze lifted to you as they knelt, gathering a fistful of the man’s hair in one hand while the fingers of the other tightened around the handle of a large knife, its edge obviously wickedly sharp even through the blood drying on the blade. “Look away, sá litli."

You shook your head minutely, your eyes wide and staring, and though you half expected Bjalla to argue or force the matter, they only shrugged, as if to say, suit yourself. In one fluid, well-practiced motion, they lowered the knife and drew it deep across the man’s throat, who gagged and sputtered, hands fluttering weakly. Bjalla rolled their eyes, smiling wryly at the man’s last desperate actions. “You should thank me, idiot. At least I made the cut clean; you’ll pass out in a few seconds, painless and quick. You’re welcome.”

With that, he released the man’s hair, his head falling back to the ground as he continued to make those sickening gurgles, the last gasps of a dying man. Bjalla knelt to work at the chains around your ankles, checking you over more thoroughly now that they were at a closer range.

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, and they nodded curtly.

“Can you walk?”

“I think so.” It was the first time you had spoken during this entire ordeal, and your voice was hoarse, scratchy. For some reason, the sound of it made your flood of tears break loose from their dam, and as soon as you had your arms free, you wrapped them around their neck and sobbed. They stiffened, but didn’t pull away. “Thank you,” you rasped, clutching at them and sobbing. They didn't embrace you, not that you had expected them too, but one cold hand did stroke once through your hair, an almost tender gesture. It was gone as soon as it came, however, and with a series of musical clinks, they cleared the chains from around your ankles and pulled you to your feet. The only exit to your kidnappers lair was through the other room, and since you'd made no effort to turn away from the spilling of blood nearly at your feet, Bjalla made no attempt to shield your eyes from the massacre that had taken place. You counted four bodies, though there may have been more. Two figures identical in build and carriage stood at the far end, their tailored suits immaculate despite the bloodbath that surrounded them. You couldn't be quite sure, but you guessed this was Bjalla's Lex and their Cici. They followed you outside, where a sleek black car was waiting. A tall figure sat behind the wheel-Wasp. It had to be. As Bjalla ushered you into the backseat, Cici and Lex vanished, their work complete.

You clung to Bjalla as the car sped off, unable to stop a stream of mostly silent tears. You half expected them to push you away or slide out of your clutches, but he didn't move, sitting still as a stone. After a while, once some of the adrenaline had faded, you wiped the tears from your cheeks and looked up at him. "Thank you for finding me, Bjalla."

Their expression didn't change. "It was Scarabee that found you. I was closest to your location, so they sent me to fetch you."

You recoiled a little at the flat tone of his voice, but didn't draw away completely. "Who were they? What did they want?"

"It doesn't matter," they said sharply, icy eyes flicking down to you. "They're dead. Whatever they wanted is no longer relevant." Bjalla sighed, rubbing the tips of perfect manicured fingers over the bridge of his nose. "You should sleep. It's a long drive back to the estate."

You didn't think you would be able to sleep, but incredibly, you were out in a matter of minutes. In your sleep, you didn't feel the weight of his arm around your shoulders, keeping your body close to his, and you didn't notice the way his hands trembled ever so slightly. They woke you when you reached the manor, all present dons and their clones pouring out of the doors to greet you. You were all but lost in a sea of embracing arms and frantic kisses, none of which belonged to Bjalla, who had all but vanished.

Later than evening, you sat cradled in Zhuk's lap, your legs draped over Scarabee's, who was rubbing something onto the bruises left around your ankles. Breaking the silence, you asked, "So, how were you able to find me?"

Scarabee looked up, his brow furrowed. "Find you? Cherie, we didn't even know you were missin' until Bjalla sent their Bee to inform us you were gone. By then he was already halfway to ya. All we did was wait for them to bring you back."

"And dispatch our own forces to wipe out everyone associated with the idiots who tried to take you from us," Zhuk growled darkly.

It was your brow's turn to furrow. "But...Bjalla said you found me. They said they were closest and that's why they came and got me."

The Russian and the Cajun exchanged a knowing look, the slightest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of Bee's mouth. "Well, darlin', I don't know what to tell ya. Seems our icy friend might be a little more fond of you than they let on."

Your thoughts whirring, you settled back against Zhuk's shoulder. If none of the others had known you were missing until Bjalla told them, that could only mean that they had found out first, and rather than inform the other dons and let them handle your rescue, they had gone after you themselves. Somehow, despite the terror of the day still weighing heavily on you, that thought caused a flicker of warmth. Perhaps Scarabee was right. Maybe Bjalla did care about you, after all.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I was thinking, what if Jake accidentally triggered Chris? Like maybe Jake casually says something that sir would say when he was about to punish Chris. He’d probably feel so guilty.

So this isn’t exactly what you asked for, but it hits on another ask I received and is very similar! (sorry, other asker, I ended up losing your ask because Tumblr sucks)

CW: References to past whump involving a minor. PTSD/trauma response to stressful stimuli. Includes description of stimming including head banging. VERY vague references to past implied noncon.

Chris’s mind runs fast. Not as fast as his mouth, but that’s okay, he can mostly catch up to himself if he works at it. His mind runs fast but it also derails and crashes on tiny details when he’s trying to finish his chores, and he never had chores before he came to live here but he doesn’t mind them - it’s just hard to get them done when there keep being so many other things to look at.

He’s supposed to be cleaning the living room, and it takes Jake maybe half an hour to do this but Chris has been at it for nearly forty-five minutes, he thinks, maybe longer… and he’s still just trying to finish dusting all the shelves.

The thing is - the TV is on, because he likes the background noise, but words keep catching his attention, little phrases and bits of information his brain wants to add to the constant loop of his thoughts. Plus - plus, on top of the TV and the swirly letters he can’t read on all the books, and the way the throw pillows have kind of a cool texture - on top of all of that, there’s a chipmunk outside.

He knows it’s a chipmunk because Jake told him about how they chirp, which he didn’t know before he came here. Chris mostly didn’t know anything before he came here, but he’s learning, piece by piece.

The chirping keeps catching his attention, drawing him away, slowing him down. He’s no good at cleaning, he can’t think about it long enough, cleaning is too slow and too methodical for his brain. But he likes doing chores, because chores mean he belongs here.

He fluffs a throw pillow, then runs his fingertips over the rough braided texture right down the center, a change from the silky-touch feel of the sides. Silk, rough, silk, rough, silk, rough.

His eyes start to unfocus, go slightly blank.

Silk, rough, just like-

“How’s it going, Chris?” Nat calls from upstairs. She’s turning over all the mattresses and changing the sheets today, Antoni is with her, while Leila works on cleaning the bathroom upstairs and Jake’s down here, in the kitchen, just a few feet away. 

“It’s, it’s, it’s it’s it’s good!” Chris calls back, jerking himself into motion, but he can hear the chipmunk outside still, calling and calling and calling. Is it missing someone?

Do I miss someone?

The thought breaks in, strange and uncertain, hardly his own. It’s plaintive, sad. It’s a thought that belongs to Baldur in the dark nights, and to the numbered boy before that in the flat white room. It’s not a thought that belongs to Chris, who stands next to the window and looks out into  sunny day. It’s not a thought he wants.

So he ignores it.

 Thoughts like that come with headaches that leave him shaking in the dark, and he’s very good at ignoring anything that might bring on the pain again.

He moves to clean around the windowsills, which - who ever heard of doing that, but it’s on the list she reads out to him, and he tries to remember everything. He’s getting better.

The chipmunk chirps outside the window, a kind of throat-swallow sound, and Chris finds himself echoing the noise, making a high-pitched eep-eep-eep sound. It doesn’t sound like the chipmunk at all, but the little animal goes silent outside when he does it, and Chris feels a thrill.

It understood I was trying to talk to it. Maybe it’s listening to me.

That’s a silly thought, and he tries to tell himself it’s stupid, but when he thinks awful things about himself he can kind of hear how Jake would respond if he said them out loud. You’re smart, Chris, you’re smarter than you think you are - you’re brilliant in there, we’re just bringing it back out. Don’t talk down about yourself. The way you think about yourself is how you think about the world.

Chris mostly loves the world, now. So he tries to love himself.

The chipmunk starts back up again, and Chris moves closer, a smile on his face. Slow, and careful, step by step, cleaning forgotten, he tilts his head and-… there it is. Tiny body no bigger than a mouse in a movie, reddish-brown with the black and white stripes across its head and down its back.

Jake says they have stripes like that because the things that eat them don’t see color like people do, and the stripes help them hide.

I wish I had stripes to help me hide.

But the thought doesn’t matter, because Chris doesn’t have to hide anymore. He puts that thought away, too. Lets it sink into the revolving mix of things going on inside his mind at any given moment. Right now it’s mostly the chipmunk.

His hand keeps moving with the rag in it, wiping back and forth across the windowsill, spraying the glass cleaner and wiping at that, too, but it’s half-hearted and he knows he’s leaving streaks. He just… can’t quite stop thinking about the little chipmunk he can just see, hardly a breath of an animal, sitting in Nat’s grass under the white birch tree in her front yard.

If you go to the tree you can peel strips of white and black bark away, easy as cake, like peeling away all his skin to find the real him underneath.

There’s a voice, behind him, from the TV. Smooth, genial, warm and slightly arrogant, the voice of someone who has total and perfect confidence in themselves. 

Chris drops the glass cleaner, the plastic bottle bouncing off the floor. The chipmunk catches some hint of the sudden movement and takes off, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

“Of course, Deborah. But I don’t think it’s fair to remove this right that’s been enshrined in our laws since 1952 just because a few protesters get their, well, I won’t say it in polite company. But just because a few protesters are bothered, that’s no reason to get rid of an entire system that’s working just fine. We need to crack down on abuse, of course, and these nasty rumors about illegal acquisition - which, I know the head of WRU personally, I can tell you that’s all a bunch of nonsense-”

Chris’s constant running barrage of thoughts comes to a stuttering halt.

He turns slowly around, cleaning rag still clutched in his other hand, his heart somewhere trapped around his knees, to stare at the TV.

There’s a woman on the screen right now, with blonde hair shellacked in a kind of circle around her head, wearing bright red lipstick and a dress to match. She tilts her head at a practiced angle, and Chris unconsciously echoes the motion. His free hand twists, fingers twitching in a kind of dance, before they tap against his own side. Tap-tap-tap-tap, the motion soothing him, calming him, a rush of something pleasant that fights the fear.

“Of course, Governor Branch-”

“Oh, how do I love to hear myself called that, still,” The man replies. He sits back, the slight shine of the light off his hair makes Chris dizzy. He can almost smell the hair product that’s in it, can almost feel the smooth fabric of the suit Sir is wearing slipping through his fingers.

That’s the one he wore the night Miss Megan saved me.

“Speaking of illegal acquisitions, there’ve been persistent rumors surrounding WRU and its competing corporations about pet abuse, abductions, even minors being put into the system. What would you say o the protesters and pet liberation groups asking for better, more thorough investigations? Would you support the call for a Congressional investigation?””

Sir laughs - it’s a lovely laugh, pulling a smile onto the woman’s face, it’s a laugh Chris has dreams and nightmares about - and Chris lets out a choked-off sound. 

Baldur, darling, you do know how to make a man laugh, don’t you?

His fingers twist faster, tap harder into his side. He steps away, stumbling gracelessly, until he can find a hard surface, the wall. He taps on it as fast as he can, a constant barrage of tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap, holding back the worst of the fear, keeping it at bay.

The rush of the sensation isn’t enough to beat back the fog in his mind. He’s buying time but not enough. He can hear Jake singing to himself in the kitchen, and his mouth opens to call, to say, that’s him, that’s my Sir, that’s him on TV, but no sound comes out.

Outside, the chipmunk starts chirping again.

Chris slides down to the floor, curling himself up into a ball, staring fixedly at the screen. 

“Deborah, I have spoken to my good friend Timothy Rahm - current CEO of WRU, sorry, not all your viewers are going to know that, are they? - and he has assured me again and again that WRU has absolutely no minors in the system. They have strict physical examinations and quality control checks that ensure every single pet is of legal consenting age.”

Sir smiles, flash of bright white teeth. Chris thinks of whitening strips laid out in a little stray next to Sir’s sink. He had to look good for cameras. He does look good, in his suit with his tan and his sparkly amused eyes. 

Darlin’, don’t look upset. You’re going to stay right here in the basement for the party, can’t have anyone getting too good a look, can we?

But, but, but but I don’t like the, the basement, Sir I don’t-

Baldur. You’ll stay in the basement. No arguments.

Yes, Sir.

Chris leans his head over, until it thumps into the wall. Briefly, he feels a burst of better, a wash of something like adrenaline, but soothing, calming. So he does it again. And again. And again.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The chipmunk is silent, listening outside to the sound of Chris as his thoughts revolve and focus around the man on the TV.

He can’t hear what they’re saying any longer, he doesn’t try to. He lets the sound of Sir’s voice, melodic and warm, wash over and around him, but if he keeps thumping his head on the wall - if he keeps tapping, too, if he can just do both - he won’t let him in.

Get him to stop doing that thing with his hand, it’s annoying as hell. I don’t care how, tie his fucking hands down. Teach him not to do that anymore.

The voice wants to trickle under his skin, but a good thump - it’s not painful, it doesn’t hurt, it’s only a shake out of his freezing, it’s holding back the sounds that would hurt if they made it too far in - knocks it back out.

Not yours. Not yours. Not yours. Not yours.

He chants along with the thumps of his head, the taps of his fingers. He whispers without sound. 

Better now. Better now. Better now. Better now.

His eyes go unfocused, and Sir is gone, but Chris can’t remember quite how to find his own way back. He doesn’t know how long he floats there, waiting. He doesn’t even know what he’s waiting for.

Someone crouches down in front of him and Chris flinches - no, no, he’s not supposed to touch the walls any longer, he has to stop or he’ll be in trouble again - only to feel Jake’s warm hands on his shoulders, up his neck, on either side of his face.

Jake’s smell, simple clean shower-smell, nothing like Sir’s heavy cologne. Jake smells like soap from the shower and fresh-cut grass from mowing the lawn this morning and the sun that shone in his hair when he did it, while Chris watched from inside.

“Chris?”

“I, I, I, I… I I I saw, I saw, I saw-”

Jake’s eyebrows furrow in concern, a hint of worry lines across his forehead. “What did you see, man? Can you tell me what you saw? Can you tell me what’s in your head right now?”

Sir isn’t on TV anymore. They’ve moved on to talk about something else. Chris swallows, looking up at Jake, then shoves himself forward to push into Jake’s chest, tap-tap-tapping on his side. Jake doesn’t stop him, Jake never ever stops him, he understands the tapping helps. Jake only puts one arm around him and holds him tightly, leaving the other down so Chris can tap, twist-fingers-tap-shirt, again and again.

The simple, clean rush of calm, bit by bit, building a wall to fight back the waves of awful things that want to dig under his skin.

“Chris, I need you to talk to me. What did you see? What happened?”

Chris closes his eyes, thinks of Sir’s smile, just like it always was. His laugh.

Thinks of being good in the dark.

“I saw a chipmunk,” Chris whispers. “Saw, I saw, there was a, a, a-a-a chipmunk, saw a chipmunk, saw-… then the TV, I-… on the, the TV on the tv there was, um, on the TV-”

“Okay. Okay, I know that wasn’t it, but… do you need me to turn off the TV? Would that help?”

Chris nods into Jake’s shirt, clutching hard onto the fabric, tapping his fingers. Hold it back, hold it back, push back the fear and the noise. “Heard, on the TV, I-I-I heard, I heard-”

“It’s okay. Look, I’m going to-… there, if I stretch I can just grab it-” Jake reaches out with his free hand, shakes the side table next to the couch until the remote drops off of it onto the floor within his reach. He turns off the TV and the sudden lack of sound fills the room with a new kind of weight. “No rush, buddy.” Jake squeezes Chris’s shoulders with one arm. “No rush to tell me. Take your time. You’re okay, you’re right here with us, this is Nat’s house. Nobody’s here but us, and we’re safe. I’ve got you, man.”

“You’ve, you’ve got me,” Chris whispers. He feels an urge to thump his head on Jake’s shoulder like he did on the wall, but manages not to. Only just. He can still hear Sir’s voice, like music that won’t stop playing, like when you get a song stuck in your head.

Sir would hate him wearing Jake’s big T-shirt, would hate the silky-mesh basketball shorts he wears all the time. Would hate his knobby knees sticking out from them, his sharp elbows that dig when he doesn’t mean them to. Sir hated his cold feet under the covers.

Jake doesn’t mind any of those things. Jake gives him the shirts he likes, and holds him, and doesn’t stop him from doing the things he has to do to keep his mind from running away too far for him to catch it. Sir was on the screen, but Jake has him here, and only one of those things is real.

Outside, a bit of bark peels away from the white birch tree in the wind, slowly revealing soft, easily-damaged wood the color of pale human skin underneath.

[winchester-with-wings]

I Saw You First

“An Angel & Her Assassin” sequel

Patron Benefit Fanfic for @softdudebro​!

Pairing:  College AU - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Author's Notes:  People have asked for sequels to this fic and I gave it a shot. I thought I'd dedicate this to Tomorrow since they like Bucky :) hopefully this is a good continuation and elicits some college feels cuz it definitely did for me! Hope ya'll like it!

Summary/Request:   The story of the first time you and Bucky saw each other but didn't actually meet. Then a flash forward to the present. smut.

**inspired by that one video of Seb working out** gif post

Word Count: 1700ish

Wanna get previews, early access and make exclusive requests? Become a Patron! You can follow my Patreon for free too as some stuff becomes public after a while. I’ll be adding a discord server benefit soon too!

Can’t become a patron? please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi (Tips are appreciated!)

Mobile Masterlist  /  Patreon & Commissions Masterlist

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Bucky noticed you before he ever encountered you in the laundry room or the elevator of your dorm building. It figures that it would be at the gym, likely one of the regular places he frequented. Of course, you never knew this until after that fateful night at the Halloween party when you finally, truly connected.

When you asked him to tell you the story, he was playfully vague. But you know. You were there. You’d checked him out too.

Here’s how it really happened.

-----

The summer after your freshman year, you created another reading list to focus on. One of your methods to read these had been to take a book with you to the gym. You figured getting a little exercise at the same time would only help you develop better habits.

It worked, at first. The beginning of the new semester, you went to the gym for maybe two weeks? You enjoyed the ellipticals and recumbent bikes--the things that kept your legs busy but your hands and eyes free to read. It also distracted you from feeling self-conscious about the fact that you didn’t look like the other girls that came to the gym to socialize and work on their already-perfect bodies.

With the addition of classes, going to the gym became a harder habit to keep. You could just stay in your dorm room and read all you want, right? But by now, Rachel, your roommate needed a work-out buddy. Someone to motivate her to continue to go to the gym, as well. She claimed she wanted to get in shape for all the boys she’d scoped out at the floor meeting for the dorm during the first week of the semester.

“Let’s try the classes!” she suggested, pointing at the schedule on the wall. Step Aerobics, Yoga, Zumba, etc. They sounded alright, and maybe a change to your routine would be good.

So you started with the step aerobics class. You didn’t last long. You were breathing hard, face flushed and dripping with sweat. The blood was pounding in your ears, harder than the beats of music and every step on the hardwood floor and plastic steps.

You took a break, heading to the back of the class to get your water bottle. The back of the room was floor to ceiling windows and doors that faced the main area of the gym where all other equipment was. It took you only a second to realize why you disliked this set up. Everyone in the class, mostly other female students were in a fishbowl, on display for all the guys passing by or just blatantly standing at the windows. One guy winked at you and you scowled at him, effectively directing his eyes elsewhere.

What was so sexy about a sweaty step aerobics class? You thought to yourself as you turned to look at Rachel, killing it on the routine.

Oh, the butts, getting toned by the steps...Ugh!

You left after that, picking a leg press machine instead.

“Hey! Why you’d you leave?” Rachel asked after the class was over.

“Did you not see all the guys window shopping?”

“Uh, yeah, I got a number or two,” Rachel giggled, swinging her ponytail over her shoulder. You laughed as you got off the machine, offering it to your friend. She sat down and lowered the weight, significantly.

“I don’t come here to pick up guys.”

“You could if you wanted to,” she said, exhaling on the release. You just rolled your eyes. You told yourself it was because you didn’t have time for a man but really, how could you possibly expect to attract the interest of some jock? The guy that winked at you doesn’t count. He was disqualified the moment he decided to drool over a step aerobics class rather than work out. Your standards weren’t that low, seriously…

You and Rachel tried out a few more machines in the circuit, trying your own hands at strength training. But you realized quickly that you’d left the quieter space of the cardio equipment, too close to the weight lifting benches. Young men of all sizes were pushing themselves to the brink, breathing hard, grunting, exhaling, chanting, and egging each other on.

“Come on, Sam, you can do it! Just two more!” You knew that voice. Everyone on your floor knew Steve Rogers, quarterback, certified hunk and sweetheart. Or at least that’s what you had heard.

“He can’t do it.”

“Shut up, Buck!” a football player shouted as he pushed himself.

Too much testosterone. Intense. Stressful. Intimidating. That’s not what you wanted out of going to the gym. Quite the opposite really.

As you two left the gym, you made a mental note to avoid that area again.

-

The next class you attended was Zumba and not only did you keep up with it but you enjoyed it! The music was awesome and the choreography wasn’t too difficult. You could totally see yourself doing this again. But of course, boys… not men… boys…they ruin all the fun.

If step aerobics could catch the attention of onlookers, then zumba was like blood in the water for sharks.

Then again, you did feel sexy, swaying your hips, waving your hands, rolling your body. You decided to put the spectators out of your mind, losing yourself to a Shakira song.

When you left the class, having stayed for the entire thing and deciding to return tomorrow, you felt so good, so confident, that you didn’t care about who was looking. You were just in Nike leggings and a tie-dye shirt, hair up in a messy bun, nothing special, but you felt great.

“Hey, Rach!” someone called out for your friend, inviting her back over to the weight lifting area. The guy who called out for her looked familiar, someone that was likely found hanging out with Steve Rogers.

“Hey Sam,” she greeted him. You stayed by her side, holding onto that Zumba confidence with a steely grip.

You didn’t really listen to what happened between your friend and the football player. You saw Steve a few feet away with another friend. The man was on his back, legs bent and giant dumbbell weights in each hand. Your eyes went wide as you watched him push them up and hold them there. The way his arms were bulging in that gray t-shirt, he was straining himself and you were tempted to tell him to be careful.

“Give me one more!” Steve encouraged him. His friend winced as that last push was almost too much for him.

“Ah, fuck,” he hissed, exhaling and grinding his teeth. He pushed those dumbbells into the air once more and even a second time, then put them down with a loud thud as rubber met the concrete floor.

You didn’t have the best view of his face from his position on the ground and your standing position over 6 feet away, but that sound...like a growl, and his bared white teeth against that strong jaw covered in stubble…it’s a sound that stirred something deep in your belly.

He jumped to his feet and did a few quick squats in those black basketball shorts. You averted your eyes from his perfect ass just as he turned around.

You wouldn’t mind if he’d been watching you dance.

-------

“Ah, fuck.”

It’s the same sound that he made now as you sit on top of him, his hips thrusting up. His fingers were digging into your hips and would likely leave a bruise, but you didn’t mind. You were Bucky’s and he was yours. You’d staked your claim with that hickey on his chest just the other night.

“Mmph, fuck, damn it. I love it when you move like that,” he grunted. You rolled your hips, earning another moan from his lips before you leaned forward and pressed your chest to his, kissing him. He wrapped his arms around you and pinned you to him as he sat up and rolled over. The grunts and squeaks coming from the two of you as Bucky repositioned himself on top were ridiculous.

“Quit giggling,” he half-laughed. “M’gonna pull a muscle in this bed, I swear.” Your head hit the pillow with a ‘oof’ and another giggle. “Dammit, babe, you make it hard to fuck you when you sound that cute.”

“Then don’t fuck me…” Bucky’s hips froze, his cock buried deep inside you. His sharp features softened with outright confusion and a slight insecurity. You reached up to caress the side of his face, the stubble on his cheek itching your palm. “Make love to me.” Bucky released a heavy sigh, rolled his eyes and collapsed on top of you.

“Don’t mess with me like that, Doll,” he whispered into your hair, using your new favorite pet name. His slow thrusts picked up again while he kept his face next to yours. You held onto him for dear life as the tension inside you continued to build until your arched back signaled your release. Bucky kept pumping until the lasting effects of your orgasm sent him over the edge. Rather than stopping completely, he slowed down until the only movement was a twitch of pleasure every now and then. “Oh my god,” he whispered, peppering kisses on your shoulder. “I’m taking you to dinner.”

“Why?” you laughed.

“I’m sorry, darlin, are you turning down a free meal? Is it the company? Do you just use me for my body?” Bucky climbed off of you but you reached out for him; He stumbled as he fully ejected himself from the bed.

“Nonono, that’s not what I said!” you said, as you continued to laugh. “I’m just wondering...if that’s your way of paying me for my services,” you wiggled your eyebrows, a hint at your teasing. Bucky snapped a finger and pointed at you, putting on his own mock serious face.

“Hooker, I’m taking you to dinner because I want to.” Having cleaned himself up, Bucky tugged on his basketball shorts and a t-shirt he’d left in your dorm room the other day. The boy considered your floor his own personal closet. “We’ve stayed in, ordered food and watched movies and you’ve even helped me with my papers. You deserve to go out to an actual restaurant.”

“Okay, well, we should probably shower before we go out.”

“Oh, I agree but I can’t share that shower with you. It was too dangerous the first time. Never again.”

You picked up your towel and toiletries as Bucky sat in a bean bag chair on your floor. You tapped him on the nose.

“Never say never, Buck,” you said with a wink.

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

Tagging: @abbessolute​ @book-loving--anime-chick​ @faithtrustandpixiedust95​ @fabinapercabeth4179​ @thinkwritexpress-official​ @autoblocked​ @therealcap​ @mathle0matle​ @whoopxd​ @bookworm4ever99​ @geeksareunique​ @bucky-plums-barnes​ @pottxrwolff​ @ravenhaviland​ @melaninspice11​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @fvckingavengers​ @officialcaptain-marvel​ @sebbytrash​

[princess-soa]

Rocker Chibs

Pairing: Chibs x OC/Sweetheart

Warnings: SMUT, light choking, pet names, general hoe-ness, swear words, etc. 

Def Leppard was roaring through the speakers of the enclosed venue as I walked through the sweaty, shouting bodies of fans having the time of their lives. I was three beers and four shots in and was definitely feeling myself as I was swaying to the music that seemed to be flowing through my veins. My friends had all disappeared with men of different ages, heights, and personalities, which left me fending for myself as the concert continued into the night. We had a general rule though- leave our locations on our phones- so I wasn't worried as I brushed past a group of men on my way to the bathroom. Men may be too light a term; these men had leather kuttes on with a Reaper and Sons of Anarchy as a top rocker and the word California as the bottom rocker. 

     They were passing around blunts and normal cigarettes as they chatted over the loud noise of the venue. Some were rough-housing but overall they kept to themselves. With that, one had caught and kept your eye and his gaze kept getting darker as he saw you move and dip to the music. His hair was shaggy and graying at the edges, as well as his goatee but his eyebrows were dark and his eyes even darker. There was a blunt stuck between dark pink lips and black-framed glasses resting on a strong-sloped nose. "Sgt. At Arms" was the tag on his chest and with "Redwood Original" sitting opposite. 

    I cocked my head curiously, and saw his tongue toy with the end of the blunt as he took a long drag. The gaze he wracked down my body was slow and hot, like he was both caressing me and stripping my clothes from my body at the same time. I could feel the heat settle in my chest and my thighs clenched at the idea of having him between them with his lips on me. Before I could change my mind, I nodded my head towards the back of the venue where the bathrooms were hidden behind the stairs. He nodded and waited to dismiss himself until after I had walked past, nose upturned as he smelled my flowery perfume mixed with a hint of alcohol. He groaned and followed after like a puppy, matching my stride and catching up by the time I had pressed the door open and walked through the threshold. 

    He had the door shut, locked, and me pinned against it all in the same breath. My hands were above my head and there was a thigh pressed between my legs before I could even blink. 

 "Name's Chibs." His voice was gruff, raspy with an accent I couldn't quite place yet. 

    Those were the only words he muttered before attaching his lips to mine, goatee scratching at my sensitive skin as I kissed him back with just as much intensity. I tried moving my fingers, desperate to touch him, but he gripped my wrists even tighter and kept them pinned to the wall. 

   "You can touch me when I let you." He growled low in his throat, pushing his leg up further so I was forced to my tip-toes. The extra pressure caused me to groan loud, hips rocking against the seam of my skinny jeans and the hard material of his own Levi's. 

   "Yes, sir." I snarled, but it came out breathless and held no malice. 

   I felt him smile as he let go of my hands to slide his hands down my arms, along my ribs, to my hips where he tugged my shirt out of my jeans and started unbuttoning each individual button. He didn't break the kiss as he moved the material out of the way, fingers sliding underneath to move my bra straps down my arms so he'd have access to my chest. 

   "Such perfect tits, princess." He sighed, moving the cups of my bra down so they bared my chest and pushed my tits up so he'd have a better view. 

   "You should taste them." I whimpered, trying very hard to not move my hands and tangle them in his hair. 

   "That's a good idea." He nodded, head ducking down to suck at my nipple; his tongue was swiping across the hard bud as his left hand mimicked the same motions on my other nipple. My hips starting rocking faster, a wet patch forming on his thigh as my hands finally fell from their position and held his head against my chest while my own head fell back in bliss. 

   "Aye, princess, shoulda lef' your hands up there." Chibs quipped, sucking harder and biting down gently as he pinched my other nipple in warning. The moan that left me was other-worldly, pussy flooding at the action. 

  "What's this? You like a li'l pain wit' your pleasure?" I was nodding before I even realized but I'd be damned if I missed the wicked grin that curled his lips. 

   He took this new information and ran with it, fingers yanking my jeans open and tugging both them and my panties down my legs to my ankles. What a sight I must have been in that dingy, graffiti-covered bathroom: shirt draped over my shoulders, tits pushed up from my undone bra, panties at my ankles like a needy whore. I didn't care though, not with his fingers sliding between the lips of my cunt and spreading me wide as he rested on his knees. 

   "What a pretty pussy, princess." I had only enough time to look down at him before his mouth was between my thighs, tongue sliding inside my leaking hole as his thumb rubbed quick but deep circles into my throbbing clit. 

   My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I gripped at his hair, rocking my hips against his face as I chased my first orgasm of the night. He let me, moving impossibly closer and spreading me even wider for his assault on my pussy. He was eating me like a man starved, like forcing an orgasm out of me before he bent me over the sink was his top priority. I wasn't about to complain, the alcohol swimming in my veins making me even more pliant to his touch. 

   "Just like t-that, oh fuck." Words fell from my mouth with no prior thought, the only thing on my mind was cumming all over the mouth of the man on his knees in front of me. 

   "Oh no, sweetheart. You're only cummin' on my cock." Chibs was on his feet right after, chuckling at the whine I made as I stared at him. 

   "Best be doing something about that, darlin'." I snapped, needy for that orgasm he was promising me. 

   "You think so?" His gaze turned dark, his hand wrapping around my throat as he got back into my personal space. 

   All I did was nod, a smile on my face as I looked up at him. My fingers were back at my sides, letting him take control. 

   "Bend over tha sink, love." He kissed me first, stealing the breath from my lungs, before tugging me away from the wall and nudging me towards the sink. I followed the order, hips wiggling as I bent over and gripped the sides of the sink in anticipation. 

    He admired the view for a few moments before coming up behind me, holding my gaze as he undid his jeans and pulled them down just enough to pull out his cock. I tried turning my head to see him, but his hand wrapped around my hair and yanked it back so all I could do was stare at him in the mirror. 

   "Nice try." He grinned, his free hand taking his cock and tapping it against my ass cheek to tease me. 

    I whimpered, hips moving back but he swatted my ass in a warning. I stilled instantly and waited for him to make his next move, eager to have him buried inside me. His patience was wavering too, which was obvious from the way he kicked my ankles apart and notched the head of his cock at my entrance. 

   "Work for it." I nodded quickly, pushing back slowly so he pushed inside at an agonizing pace. It was to tease him, even though I knew he held all the power. 

  He let me lead, hand now free to spread my cheeks so he could watch himself disappear into my soaking wet cunt. He was chewing on his bottom lip as he bottomed out, making an experimental roll of his hips to make sure he was stuffing me full.

   "Fuck me, please. Like you mean it." I was needy for it; I wanted him to make me feel it for days. 

    Chibs nodded quickly, letting go of my hair as he gripped my hips in both of his hands and started fucking into me with passion. I could feel bruises forming from his fingertips and there were going to be bruises on my thighs from where he was knocking me into the hardness of the sink, but I didn't care. I didn't care that he was using me like a fucktoy, didn't care that I looked like a mess, didn't care that I may never see him again. The only thing that mattered was that I had the hottest man alive fucking me into oblivion. 

   His head had fallen forward as he moved inside me, hitting spots I didn't even know existed as he pushed me towards my climax. After a couple of tense moments, he slowed to long and deep thrusts as he pulled me up against his chest so I was on full display while he fucked me. He wrapped a hand around my throat again, keeping me still as his other hand snaked between my thighs to start rubbing my clit again. My tits were bouncing in time with his thrusts, nipples still hard and aching as I begged for my orgasm. We looked like a sight there in that mirror: a girl in her twenties being fucked like a whore by a rugged, older biker who was too dangerous for his own good. 

   "Cum for me, princess. Cover my cock in your cum." He growled in my ear, teeth biting down gently on the shell and tugging. I nodded eagerly, fingers clutching the forearm between my thighs as I tottered on the edge of the abyss. 

   "Scream fer me." He snapped, picking up the pace of both his fingers and his dick as he sucked a claiming mark onto my neck. 

    That did it, and I did scream for him. It was inaudible against the blaring music coming from the concert but in this bubble we created, it was defining. My climax soaked my thighs and it created stars behind my eyelids. It had me on the tips of my toes as my legs shook and my chest panted for breath. Soon enough I became boneless so Chibs moved us around so my ass was resting on the edge of sink and he sinking back inside to chase his own orgasm. I had enough strength to wrap my legs around his waist and drape my arms over his shoulders, lips going to kiss him again and I met every one of his thrusts with one of my own. I needed him to cum, needed to see him lose control and get lost inside me. I wanted to see him fight for control against me in this bathroom. 

   "Come on, darlin'. Fill me up." I moaned against his lips, eagerly clenching down on his cock with every thrust inside my soaking wet cunt. I was still so sensitive that it was building another orgasm but I wanted him to cum first. 

   "I'm going to ruin ya, swee'heart." Chibs snarled, but his thrusts were becoming sporadic as he came close to his own release. 

  "You already have." I whispered, lips pressing to his once more and that did it. 

   His orgasm caught him by surprise, the curses and shouts of pleasure muffled against my neck as he pressed impossibly deep inside me to fill me full. His release triggered my own and we came together on that sink, bruises littering my skin and sweat making our hair stick to our foreheads in a messy display of what we'd just done. It took a couple minutes to calm down, but soon enough he was pulling away and helping me down to my feet. I was a little wobbly as I got dressed but I was smiling at him as he attempted to tuck his still half-naked cock back into his boxers and belt his jeans. 

   "I could take care of that for you." I mentioned with a grin as I fixed my bra and buttoned my shirt back, like this hadn't happened except for the cum slowly leaking into my already wet panties. 

   "How do you s'pose?" He chuckled, intrigued at the idea. 

  "Blow you in the back of the room while you watch the concert." I replied nonchalantly, tying my hair up in a ponytail and buttoning my own jeans. 

   "Yer a walkin' wet dream. I'm in." His hand was grabbing mine and pulling me back out into the packed venue, eager to see his fantasy through to the end.

This was a request from my “Horny on Main” post and I hope you like it! Writing for the Sons does something to me that I really need to find in a real man instead of fiction. Oh well! 

Much love xx