#dock town dog

[mercars-musings]

Trust & Fish Sticks

Fandom: Dragon Age - The Veilguard

Pairing- Rook & Emmrich Volkarin {Mostly towards the middle & end}

TW- implied/mentioned: animal abuse (dog), dog accidentally choking on a marble; depicted: couples argument, PTSD, stray dog finding a home and safety, scared dog, aggressive dog, starving dog, flirting and some "immodest" touching ; genre: 50/50 sad and fluff, sad with happy ending, silly, cute.

Description-

Hewwo! This is a short sad & fluffy piece I wrote on Rook Mercar taming and adopting the angry dog that keeps barking outside of the dog crates in Dock Town.

Done as part of a Rook Story Prompt Ask Game on Tumblr! {This Ask Game Prompt was: 12. Rook making a new friend.}

Ask Game Here PS. The gods of fanfic decided I had to write this one first @ofcrowsanddragons so I hope you enjoy hehe! <3 /lh

Word count- 2.3k

Read on AO3: Here!

~ MAJOR SPOILERS FOR VEILGUARD BELOW ~

"C'mon girl, I won't hurt you… promise."

A low growl emanated from the mutt's chest as it widened it's stance and slowly backed up into the open cage behind it. She bared her teeth in a rage fuelled defiance, ignoring the tired man's best attempts at calming her.

"Hissera… it's been days, you need to eat something." Az sighed, trying his best to keep his voice steady so he didn't stress the Mabari out any further.

"Rook," a low voice warned, "We're going to be late for the meetin'-"

"I know, I know…" The taller man huffed slightly, slowly raising from his knees before turning to face his friend. "But it's been days Tarquin-"

"And she's survived this long hasn't she? I'm sure she'll find somethin' herself."

The Mabari's low growl seemed to stutter slightly at that, a glint of fear now noticable in her pupils.

Rook continued to stare at Hissera, searching the animals features for a sign of reconsideration, but sure enough the Mabari's growl seemed to return back to full force just moments later. With no other choice, Az simply gave a resigned head shake and slowly followed his fellow Shadow Dragon out of the alley.

~

"Hissera~ I have a treat for you~" Az sang, attempting to rouse the Mabari awake with his loud & extremely out of tune singing.

The dog's instinct to growl was stopped almost instantly by the smell that accompanied Rook's entrance. He seemed to be waving a carton of something that smelled practically heavenly to the half starved dog, so heavenly that it actually convinced her to leave the kennel again in an attempt to inspect the scent.

Taking note of the mutts interest, Rook slowly placed the carton down on the ground and pulled the lid back to reveal it's amazingly tempting contents: a large platter of fish sticks from Hal's stall {taken off the stick of course}.

Hissera had been offered it countless times before of course, particularly from Rook and a few passers by. Though she was always weary of the offer, fearing what may be lurking in it's contents. So, instead of taking the offer as she always desperately wanted to, she would hold her ground and simply continue to growl until the person offering would give up & leave.

Unfortunately {or fortunately depending on how you looked at it}, this time it seemed like she had reached her limit on denying food, as her mouth began to salivate & chip at her already wavering resolve.

Maybe… just this once. Surely, a small bit of poisoning had to be better than her current existence of mind numbing solitude and slow starvation?

Slowly creeping forward, Hissera felt the all too familiar pangs of intense hunger ricochet through her stomach once more, the smell of the fish seemingly making the pain harder to ignore. Luckily the pain did dull and eventually even subsided fully once she quickly scarfed the offering of food down, somewhat fearful that it might disappear if she took too long.

Rook watched the Mabari with a small smile, though a glint of sadness was also evident in his stare.

It had been weeks since Az first noticed the creatures thinning frame & tired eyes that seemed to grow more exhausted by the day. Even her barking had grown less sure of itself as her anger slowly twisted into fear, as if she was starting to realise her days may be numbered if she kept refusing help.

He'd tried time & time again to get her to accept even a small piece of food from him, but each time she reacted as if he was trying to attack her… did she think he was trying to attack her?

What horrible things had she been forced to endure for her to become this hesitant to accept help?

Before he could spend too much time lost in his thoughts, Az was pulled back to his surroundings by the feeling of something wet against his hand. When he looked back down, he noticed the Mabari gently sniffing his hand curiously as she stared up at him, eyes full of hesitancy & concern. Luckily, they also seemed to be filled with a good portion of hope & friendliness.

She was clearly conflicted about something, probably about whether she should trust Rook or not.

The Shadow Dragon chose to stay still, letting the dog handle their exchange on her own terms which thankfully seemed like the right decision as after a few minutes like this, she started grinding her face against his hand in a surprisingly clear effort to get some pets.

Az happily obliged, running his hand through her fur, only being stopped when he reached some matting at the back of her neck. Despite the snag, she still seemed somewhat content, her tail wagging slightly though her eyes still focused on Az's, open & watchful.

~

"What, pray-tell are we meant to do with a dog, Rook?" Emmrich questioned, slight irritation colouring his tone. "And an aggressive one, at that?"

Az winced a little at Emmrichs tone, before glancing over at the Mabari who was quietly growling from behind one of their armchairs. The younger mage mulled over his lovers questions for a few seconds while he ran a hand through his hair nervously.

"She's not… that aggressive…?" Was all he could muster, pathetic as it was.

"She is quite literally growling at Manfred. Manfred." Emmrich retorted, pointing back to where Manfred was waving excitedly at the very unimpressed dog.

"She's growling at us all actually," Az interjected, though the scowl Emmrich shot back made him quickly realise that he wasn't quite making the best case he could here.

"Look… I- I know it's not ideal Kadan, but… Hissera was hungry and shivering and she looks like such a shell of a Mabari… she needs help."

Emmrich paused momentarily, leaving a silence in the air between the two men that all but spiked the Qunari's anxiety to the damn fade and back.

"Oh Spirits preserve me Az… you've named her?" The necromancer whispered.

Rook simply stared back, a shy and nervous look etched into his features as he tried to find the words- any words that would help make Emmrich understand why he needed to do this.

"I know this looks bad- but seeing her… it reminded me of…" the words caught in his throat, just like it always did when he tried to speak about his time in Solas' damned prison. "Em… I know what it's like to be scared and hungry and alone and just desperate for someone to help- when I saw her…"

"Dearest…" Emmrich interrupted, the last of his willpower dwindling at the sight of his Rook looking so upset, "If you can keep her from hurting anyone then… I suppose we can keep her. For now at least."

Relief flooded through Rook's body, his eyes lighting up in excitement as he lunged at Emmrich, swinging his arms around the gentleman's shoulders & pulling him into the tightest hug possible.

"Thank you Amatus, I promise I will figure this out."

~

It had taken 6 months, a few incidents & many, many training sessions but, the newest addition of the Mercar-Volkarin household seemed to finally be settling into a mostly aggression free existence.

The adjustment was difficult, what with her trying to guard Rook constantly; her insistence on growling at random passerby's & of course her tendency to steal random bones from around the Necropolis whenever they weren't staying at their Dock Town residence. But, it was a well earned adjustment that filled Az with an unexpected, somewhat fatherly pride that he had only felt once prior when Manfred set a noble's cloak on fire.

Despite people assuring Az that he could cool it on the training, he made sure to do a refresher at least once a week to ensure that he didn't run the risk of Hissera & Manfred arguing again. Being mindful of each other had really helped the duo's relationship blossom into a close sibling like friendship and it would kill Az if they lost that.

"Okay Hissera," Rook started with a slightly ill fitting, yet still attention grabbing sternness to his voice. "Now, what do we do if Manfred keeps pushing your fur in the wrong direction?"

A low, semi quiet growl began to rumble out from Hissera as she backed away from Manfred, whom was watching intently & cautiously.

"That's great sweetheart," Rook then turned to face Manfred who was still stood only a few feet away from the Mabari. "Now, Manfred, what do we do when Hissera does that?"

Manfred raised his hands in the air, in a clear "I'm not gonna hurt you" motion as he backed away with an apologetic hiss. The motion caused Hissera's growling to slowly come to a stop as her hackles lowered from defensive position to a much calmer one.

"Great job Imekari!" Rook cheered, gently tossing a dog treat in Hissera's direction & a small marble in Manfred's. The pair whined & hissed happily as they began to distract themselves with their respective prizes.

"Wonderful job Dearest," a familiar voice rang out from behind Az, filling his chest with a brilliant warmth that he was sure he would never get enough of.

"Thanks Em," he responded happily, turning to face his lover.

"I will admit," Emmrich started, glancing over at the newest addition to their little family momentarily. The sight of Hissera & Manfred pushing the marble around between them brought a small smile to his face. "I didn't think it possible to get her this well adjusted so quickly."

"Rude." Az teased, "In case you've forgotten, I am the animal whisperer of Dock Town."

"Clearly," Emmrich chuckled, shaking his head incredulously. "You would think I'd learn to expect nothing short of perfection from you my Dear."

The words sent a rush of heat to Rook's cheeks, causing him to glance away sheepishly as a blush began to creep up his neck. Before he could look away for too long though, Emmrich's hand cupped his cheek & forced Az to face him again. A rush of butterflies began to form at the pit of his stomach as he stared back at the gorgeous man before him.

"Y-yeah… you should've." Az stuttered pathetically, desperately trying to think of a playful retort but coming up short due to the sudden proximity of his lover's body to his.

"Thankfully, it's a wonderful lesson to revisit: I always adore seeing you out do yourself my Dear." Emmrich whispered, finding himself quite enamoured by how embarrassed Rook was getting. So enamoured in fact, that he lent in slightly, just enough so their lips were near touching, but not quite.

"How do you always know what to say?" Rook murmured back, his lids half closed and throat growing drier by the second. A well of passion slowly began to burn at the pit of his stomach, pushing past the prior embarrassment he felt at just how much the Mortalitasi could affect him years into their relationship.

"I have a wonderful Muse," Emmrich breathed out against Rook's lips, leaning in a little further to brush their lips against one anothers.

Unfortunately {or fortunately depending on how you looked at it}, before the pair could continue any further, they were abruptly dragged back to reality by a hissing Manfred & a hacking Hissera.

She'd swallowed the damn marble.

~

Thankfully, it only took half an hour of panic & a quick regurgitation spell to get the marble out of Hissera and into the trash.

"Please never do that again," Rook chided as he stared down at the guiltiest looking Mabari he had ever laid eyes on. A few moments passed before he groaned and crouched down to gently stroke the top of her head. "You're lucky I had to learn that spell back at the circle. Do you know how expensive emergency vets are?"

Hissera stayed quiet, staring up at Rook with the absolute biggest and wettest eyes she could muster. The last few months of living with Rook had taught her well, if Az's immediate caving was anything to go off.

"Maker, you have no right to look that cute." He mumbled, scratching behind the Mabari's ear adoringly.

"I could say the same to you, Dearest," Emmrich chuckled from the staircase, forcing the blush from earlier to shoot back up to Rook's cheeks like no time had passed at all. "I'm going to bed, would you care to join me?"

Az glanced back up at the man, his mouth gaping for a moment as the offer seemed to cause his mind to go a little fuzzy with the returning, creeping desire he had felt a little less than an hour ago.

"I-I'll be right up," Rook eventually squeaked out as his eyes lingered on Emmrich's lips.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of Emmrich's lips as he turned to make his way up the stairs, making sure to swing his hips in the way he knew drove Rook wild. A choice that proved quite effective as the younger mage was left swallowing thickly, a heat slowly re-forming in the pit of his stomach which prompted him to quickly address their defacto children once more.

"No more marbles, okay?" Az sighed, interrupted by a petulant whine from the Mabari. "Nu-uh. Anymore complaining & I won't stop Manfred next time he tries to pick you up."

A slight grumble left Hissera's throat, though after a few seconds of registering Rooks words she simply nodded before resting her head on one of the Rooks hands.

"Good"," Az, chuckled as he gave a gentle scratch to her chin. "Now have fun and please be safe you two." Rook warned as he stood up & quickly made his way up the stairs. The noise of a happy skeleton's hiss and a dogs paws trodding along on the wooden flooring, bringing a small smile to his face.

[frankensteined]

two points i made in my original lengthy write up for tess' character ideas were

i) she dislikes super froofy sweet orlesian cakes due to backstory reasons, but really would like to find a cake she can enjoy again

and

ii) she really loves jobs that require her to go undercover

and guess what two things have come up in her playthrough so far? i am. delighted. 🥹🥹

[tvintedspvrkarc]

tag drop : tagged dynamics so far / misc

[specshroom]

*°~There are many benefits to being a mage~°*

Includes: Fem reader x male orc, size kink, "human fetish", friends to more?

In which: Orc with a big problem confides in his mage friend who decides to help him out with a useful spell~🪄

You've been in this town for quite a while now, almost 3 years. That wasn't the original plan but It just so happened that this seaside town was more welcoming than many places you've been to on your travels. It sits at the coast of two major trade routes, connecting people of many different walks of life.

The friendliness and diversity you experienced allowed you to make a few friends you might not have otherwise.

Like the one you're sharing breakfast with right now. His name is Grimmok and he's the self-proclaimed, "Best fisherman in this damn town". He's your typical young, burley orc.

The first time you met him was in the local pub, you were intrigued when a crowd formed infront of the huge orc. He was dramatically telling one of his fisherman's tales and the small crowd hung onto his every word. He was a very good story teller and you happened to be very interested in folklore and myths. You made a habit of just walking up to him, if he didn't look busy and asking him to tell you a story. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see you sitting on the docks listening and writing intently as he waxes on about some old wives tale while repairing his nets.

Now you sit in his home, eating breakfast while he grumbles on about having to train a new fishing boy.

"The boy gets distracted by the smallest things, every time someone even resembling female walks past the docks he's panting like a dog." Grimmok bites into his ridiculously large breakfast sandwich signaling the end of his rant.

He did look more grumpy than usual when he opened the door to let you in for your weekly Sunday breakfast. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a hasty half up half down bun and his stubble looked more scruffy than usual. You can only huff in amusement at his troubles.

"Cmon, don't be too harsh on the kid. You did the same thing with Rosie Cotton, remember?"

The orc stills and huffs indignantly, scratching at his neck. This makes you grin.

"Mhm, you'd be telling me a story and then just stop in the middle of a sentence. I'd look up and sure enough there's Miss Rosie walking on by. Fiery hair flowing in the wind, cleavage spilling out her dress, swaying those hips and-"

Grimmok interrupts your overdramatic musing by flicking your pointy hat off your head.

"Hey!"

"You're acting like you didn't like looking at her too." The big guy grumbles almost like a child. He wipes his hands on his plaid pajama pants and picks up his empty plate, heading towards the sink.

You lean down to pick your hat off the floor, dust it off and mumble,

"Yeah, but I never got to bed her."

The dishes in the sink clatter a little too loudly as he tenses up. You hardly try to stifle your laugh.

"We didn't actually...she was...too small... For me to...." The orc struggles out as he wipes his plate clean.

It's quiet for a minute until you ask.

"But she did try, right? I'm pretty sure that counts, Grim."

The orc just grumbles something unintelligible. You want to sympathise with the poor guy but imagining Rosie Cotton, a "short stack" type of woman, trying to fit his massive green cock in her little pussy was pretty erotic.

"I want to feel bad for you mate but you kind of bring this on yourself. You obviously have a bit of a human fetish."

"It's not a-" The orc goes to defend himself but stops and just sighs when he realises it's no use.

"...and a size kink to boot." You mumble with toast in your mouth.

"I can't help it if I think horny humans trying desperately to take my cock is literally the hottest thing to me!" Grimmok finally lets the dam of sexual frustration burst after you've done a sufficient amount of poking at it. You always were good at getting him to actually talk about his problems.

"But the problem comes in when I actually have to fuck them, they can barely take half! How am I supposed to fuck them!? I'm too big! I'd kill them!"

You can't help but choke on your toast as a cackle forces itself from your throat. "Sorry. I'm sorry!" You struggle between snorts. Your big green friend just stands there with a grimace, arms crossed as he waits for you to finish.

You sigh and wipe your watering eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've confided in me because now I can help you." You wipe your hands clean and stand up from the orc sized table.

"You know that cool thing I can do with my hat?" You take your hat off and reach inside of it, the magic pocket space allowing you to reach your whole arm inside of it when you physically shouldn't be able to.

He nods sceptically still leaning against the sink, a bit concerned about where this is going. He thought by "help" you meant like you were going to pep talk him or something.

"We just have to do this but with...." You gesture down to your crotch.

Grim stands there, mouth slightly agape, blinking at you.

"I mean it's not exactly the same obviously." You pull your trusty spell book out of the hat before placing it back on your head while the pages of the spell book fly open to the page you want. "You basically draw this sigil on someone and then they'll be able to take whatever they can push inside no matter how big. Girth might still be an issue though..."

You explain this to him like you've explained many other spells, like you're reading him a recipe, deliberating what ingredients would work best. He doesn't even know how to react honestly.

"You're serious?"

You clap the book shut and adjust your hat on your head, smugly shrugging,

"This is what I do."

The poor guy just stumbles in disbelief.

"Magic, I mean.... Magic is what I do." You correct yourself a bit awkwardly and clear your throat, regaining your confidence.

"It's a pretty easy spell so we can try this whenever you want really."

"We?"

"Alright! Alright."

"Well yeah, unless you want me to go up to Rosie Cotton and say "Hey love, you mind if I put this sigil on your womb so my friend can finally pound your tight little-"

Grimmok rubs his face with his hands, sighing again and looking unsure. You lean against the sink next to him, barely coming up to his pecs.

"Look, it'll just be a one time thing so you can actually see if human pussy's all that and if you like it, I'm sure we can find plenty of humans who would love to try it out."

"...Alright. That sounds good."

You give a slap to his thick bicep and an encouraging "ata boy."

"and if you don't like this one, I'm sure I could find a spell that'll just make you..." He doesn't miss how you glance down at his crotch. "Smaller."

He huffs and pushes your shoulder playfully, he liked how you could always joke away the tension in any given situation. You walk up to the big wooden chair you were sitting at a second ago and pull it away from the table so that it's facing outward, struggling a bit as it's very much orc sized like most things in his house.

"Cmon. Sit."

You pat the chair, looking at him expectantly.

"Now?"

He's really not used to other people being so forward especially not when it's his mate. You shrug at him.

"Why not? I mean we can wait till you're ready, I don't mind. I have literally all day."

You put your hands behind your back and rock on your feet as you both just stand in his kitchen for about a minute...waiting. He eventually huffs and steels himself, fully committing to the idea and walking over to plop himself in the chair. He's going to put his dick inside one of his best mates.

You place your hat on the table so it doesn't get in the way of your activity and step in front of him. You levitate your spell book In front of you, looking down at the page with the sigil that's way more familiar than you're letting on.

"Okay, I'll face this way so it's less....personal." You turn around so your back is facing him. "You do still need to take off your pants though."

He smacks his teeth, "I figured that." He mumbles, pushing his soft pajama pants down to his mid thighs, immediately freeing his cock as he wasn't wearing underwear. He leaves his white long sleeve on, the sleeves folded to his elbows, giving you a perfect tease of his thick strong arms and multiple tattoos. When he looks back at you and sees that you've already disappeared your pants, he quickly looks away.

Sensing his nervousness you ask with a softer voice than before,

"can I sit?"

He clears his throat before grumbling a "Yeah."

You gently lean down and sit your naked ass onto his lap, legs open wide over his own you can see his half hard cock laying between his legs but try not to stare. Obviously Grimmock is a big guy but he's even big by orc standards so of course his cock is massive even when he isn't fully hard.

Grimmock clears his throat and jolts you out of your thoughts. You adjust a bit on top of him feeling his happy trail against your lower back. Your eyes skim the page levitating in front of you, when you finally find the incantation passage you straighten up and start chanting the ancient words in the text. Your eyes glow and the air feels static, Grim has seen magic before but the novelty never truly wears off.

An intricate shape starts to form right above your pubic bone, where your womb would be. The sigil glows brightly on your skin as Grim peers from above your head to look at it. At first glance he thinks it looks a bit demonic but then remembers he doesn't know anything about magic and decides not to mention it. When the sigil is complete you clap the book shut, immediately cutting off the static energy in the room and startling him in the process.

"That should do it."

You place the book on the table and lean back against his clothed chest, feeling the tension in his body not letting up.

"Damn, I can't believe little Miss Rosie took half of this. What a lass."

Your joke lightens the mood once again as Grimmock scoffs at you. Feeling him relax, you bring your hand down to finally touch the wetness that's been growing for awhile now. "We should still do some prep before you put it in. Is that alright?"

He nods and watches your hand disappear between your thighs. You readjust so that your boot clad feet are on either side of the chair rests. Opening yourself up to the air and to him, he can see you've already got two fingers pushing inside. He hesitates before reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke himself under you but it was painfully clear he was holding back.

"I know I'm not as short or.... endowed as Miss Cotton but I could put on a red wig if you'd like."

Grim huffed a laugh at the mental image of that.

"Oh wow~ Grimmie, you're soooo big and strong~"

You say in a high pitched voice (that doesn't sound anything like Rosie Cotton), using her embarrassing pet name while looking up at him and batting your eyelashes dramatically.

Grim scoffs and holds his hand over your mouth "Stop playing around." He tries to sound serious but his smile and the grumble in his chest betrays him. You laugh against his hand holding his wrist. You slowly pull his hand off your mouth and inch it gradually down your body giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn't and you move his hand to rub against your wet pussy ever so gently.

You're both looking into each other's eyes, this was not supposed to be so intimate but it doesn't look like he minds when he takes charge and slowly eases two fingers inside your aching pussy. His thick fingers stretch your pussy so good as you lightly buck into his hand, greedy pussy already hungry for more. The way he's looking down at you with so much need gets you so hot inside. A heat that only increases when he starts pumping his fingers in and out. Grim works you open with one hand and pumps his fat cock with the other.

This entire situation has you pent up and impatient so you pull his hand away and sit up, "I can take it now." He can't help but groan at your words but remains concerned at the perceived lack of prep. Whenever he fools around with humans most of the engagement is spent just doing prep so he's more than a little worried, "Are you sure?"

You don't reply as you gently take his fully hard cock from his hand, holding it up against your stomach to see how far inside you this thing could go. You both groan at the comparison between his ridiculously massive dick and your body, he reaches way past your belly button and into your stomach. Definitely more than a human could safely take. You adjust your legs so that you're almost squatting on his lap, your feet plant on the seat on either side of his hips.

You support yourself with your hand resting on the seat between his legs and lift yourself so you can rub your wetness along the length of his cock. He brings his rough hands to hold your hips gently, not applying pressure but just resting there so he can have something to hold.

You lift yourself up until his tip is in-line with your entrance, slowly rubbing it against your clit. You both groan lightly when the tip pops in and you slowly ease yourself down his cock. He's amazed at how easy your cunt swallows him. You pause half way down to adjust and give a few pumps to the rest of him before your hand leaves his cock to settle next to your other hand on the chair in front of you. He squeezes your hips a little in silent concern and you smile before easing the rest of him in, gently descending until you reach the hilt. Your pubes kiss his and he can't help but let out a weak moan at the sight and feeling of you taking all of him. Finally feeling tight walls grip the entire length of his cock has him reeling. You're overwhelmed as well, It's been a while since you've taken someone this big.

You slowly circle your hips around so that you really feel his cock against your walls deep inside you, you're obviously very pleased with yourself. Grim is seeing stars, eyes shut, head tilted back, trying to regain himself even a little while his literal dreams are coming true.

"Well, we know it works. I guess that's it then." You move to lift yourself off his cock as if your work is done.

"Nononono, Please no. Please."

Comes Grim's hasty but soft displeasure, both his thick arms circle around your waist to keep you in place as he leans against your back, head resting on your shoulder.

"What's the matter big guy?" You lean into his chest, stroke his arm and turn your head to look at him. He huffs, you know exactly what's the matter. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to look at you.

"I need you."

Your heart jumps in your chest.

"I need you to fuck me...please."

You look up at him, wide eyes, mouth agape as he looks back down at you. The moment is almost sweet until your mouth forms into an evil grin and you snicker softly, a dreadfully familiar mischievous glint in your eyes. Grim closes his eyes and almost regrets all the choices that lead him here.

"Riiight~. I almost forgot, this is probably the first time you've actually been able to fuck someone sooo much smaller than you."

"Poor guy, you must be so pent up, huh?"

You reach down to gently hold his massive ballsack, making him suck in a breath and twitch his thighs.

All he can do is let out a choked moan of your name which only makes you chuckle.

"I can really play the part for you, if you'd like. Y'know the, "Ah, your so deep!" and "You're filling this human pussy up so good!""

You laugh when you feel his dick twitch. Poor Grim can only grip your waist and try to keep his hot face from getting hotter. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and you decide you're not so evil after all. You pat his arms and move them so he's holding your waist. He startles a little when you playfully kiss him on the cheek.

"I've got you big guy."

You lean forward again with your feet under you and start to lift yourself up very slowly until the top of his cock is juuust about to pop out. Your thighs burn as you stay there for a few seconds, teasing Grim and yourself. Grim thinks he might actually cry if you don't move.

Suddenly you grip the edge of the chair and force yourself down hard on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust. You both groan very loudly, he downright yelps with the sudden movement. You grip the chair and clench around him so hard he can't help the way he grips your waist tightly. One hand covers his mouth as he tips his head back and tries to not cum immediately. He tries to regain his breathing but you have other plans. You can feel him twitch inside you and a desperate need to be filled engulfs you.

You start thrusting up and down on his dick, moving your whole body up and down his length. It's a good thing he can't see your face because you are enjoying this way too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite your lip, the sensation of being filled to the literal brim is intoxicating. You work yourself and him so diligently, it's no time before your thrusts become more frantic and you're right at the peak. With one final deliberate thrust you cum hard around him, clenching and unclenching like you're trying to milk him dry.

You both moan freely now, though his are more like growls. Your pulsing walls quickly lead him to his own climax, holding you close to his chest and thrusting up into your cunt, spilling hot seed deep inside your womb. You shake and squirm even more with the blissful feeling of your walls being coated with his spend.

After a few moments of you two spasming and twitching you eventually ease up and fall limply against his chest, adjusting your thighs to rest on top of his again. You breathe out a long sigh and bask in the fullness of your cunt, stroking your stomach up and down.

You're blissfully unaware of the knowing smirk that grows on his face. He cards his fingers through his hair, composing himself a little more. His warm hand joins yours in caressing up and down the expanse of your stomach and chest, loving how small you feel in his hold.

"You've done this before." His voice comes out in a low growl that makes you shiver, not expecting it. You crane your head up to see him smirking down at you and all you can do is sit and stare. He chuckles deeply,

"There ain't no way, this is your first time taking a cock this size."

You stumble for words but none come out. His hands caress your thighs and one hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. He leans down really close to your face.

"You're a size queen."

You suck in a breath and your pussy clenches involuntarily around his cock which you only noticed now hasn't gone down at all. Grim laughs louder this time.

"I should've known the second you pulled out that spellbook."

You sit there, quite embarrassed at being caught. You smack his hand away from your waist.

"Shut up, you're the one with the-"

"Yes, we both know about my kinks, you teased me about it enough which is very hypocritical of you."

Grim is just loving the way you fluster and fumble for words right now.

"Oh, so you don't have a thing for inhumanly huge cock?"

He challenges and uses both his hands to bring your naked thighs to your chest, exposing your pussy, leaking with his seed.

"So you don't like the way I stretch and fill this little human pussy?"

You can't help but whine at his dirty words and the position he's binding you into. His cock adjusting inside of you, hitting a new spot.

"If you don't, I guess I could just pull out and-"

"Nonononono... Grim Cmon."

You frantically babble your disagreement, shaking your head. He chuckles again, very pleased with himself at turning the tables on you but thankfully for you he's not as evil as you are and his dick is still painfully hard.

"Alright Darlin, I'll take care of you."

He lifts himself from the chair, leaving a puddle of both of you when he stands. He comforts your whines when he pulls out to set you ass up on the table and just stands at the edge, one hand on his hip and the other leisurely stroking his cock.

You look back at him with confusion, expecting him to just fuck you over the table already.

"If you ask nicely."

He says looking real smug, you sigh in defeat and turn your body so that you're facing him. You disappear the rest of your clothes, leaving you stark naked on the large kitchen table you were just eating breakfast at. That realisation makes him pump his cock harder.

You press your knees as close to your chest as possible and bring your hands down to your puffy, leaking pussy. You spread your folds for him with your fingers and say, as sexily as you can manage.

"Please fuck me Grim."

Grim is so fucking floored, he's cursing himself for not thinking of doing this sooner. He sighs and pumps his cock harder, lining the leaking tip up to your pussy lips. He eases it inside and the new position makes for a new sensation for both of you as different spots are brushed and tension melts away. Once he's balls deep again he gently worms his arm underneath your back to lift you up with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck for support being mindful not to pull his hair. Suddenly you're face to face, looking into his eyes for the first time since you started.

You look into his dark eyes and they relax you, this is your best friend, you trust him. His eyes leave yours to stare at your parted lips. When he sees that familiar quirk on your lips he looks back to your eyes, catching the mischievous glint. You lean closer so that your noses are just brushing against eachother. You feel his breath hitch when your lips meet his. He spares no time getting into it and moves his lips against yours. You make out while he adjusts your body in his hold, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist.

He then, without warning, lifts you up and brings you down hard thrusting the whole length of his cock into you in one hearty thrust. You break from the sloppy kiss for a moment to groan out in absolute ecstasy, loving the way he takes the lead from you effortlessly. He brings down your whole body to meet his upwards thrusts. The way he's basically using your entire body like a fleshlight makes you embarrassingly horny.

It feels like it's been years since you were fucked like this, the way your body is reacting, so sensitive you're sure you could cum again any minute. This is exasperated greatly when he brings you closer to his chest with one arm locked around you so that he can worm his other hand in-between you two and rub at your engorged clit.

You grab at his wrist as he frantically works you to your climax, you basically scream when you finally reach that high. Clenching and shaking on his cock while he holds you up with his buff arms. You cling into him so tightly, getting drool on his shirt. You even squirt a little, getting your wetness all over his cock and the floor. Your intense climax once again has him reeling. The sight of you clinging onto him, squirting and losing yourself on his cock makes his balls clench painfully as his frantic thrusts turn faster and sloppier. He reaches his climax as he holds you close, groaning into your neck, pumping another thick load deep into you.

You both stay like that for a while, coming down from your respective highs. Your fingers slowly unclench from his shirt moving down to lazily caress his chest, feeling it move with his breaths as you rest your head on his shoulder.

He slowly manoeuvres your legs so he can sit back down on the chair, holding you to his chest. His hand strokes down your back as you both soak in the warm, tranquil after glow. His breathing evens out to a steady rhythm and your eyes flutter closed.

Knock knock knock

You both jolt awake and stare at each other wide eyed and then at the front door, which is very much visible from the kitchen. You both stay quiet and he holds you closer to hide your fully naked body if the rude intruder somehow manages to break the door down.

Knock knock knock

"Uhh Mr Grimmock Sir?"

The tension in Grim's body sags when he hears who's on the other side of the door. A hand goes to massage his impending migraine.

"BOY! What do you want?!"

You can imagine the way the poor fishing boy cringes at the anger in Grim's voice.

"Sorry Sir, I was wondering if you could give me some extra lessons on the boat?"

Grim growls in frustration, you chuckle in amusement and start kissing up his neck which settles him down a little.

"Tomorrow lad, it's Sunday."

"But I was-"

"Tomorrow."

The finality in his tone seems to get through to the young man as he mutters an "Alright Sir, see you then." Before walking off, his steps getting lighter and lighter.

"He doesn't want to work all week but suddenly he wants to work on Sunday?!"

Grim's irritation is clear as he gestures to the door incredulously. You can't help but laugh at the orcs misfortune. You settle your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as his hand begins to stroke down your back again.

"Thank you for...helping out"

He says, quite genuinely.

"Anytime."

You throw him a thumbs up and he has to laugh and shake his head at the award winning nonchalance. When the amusement fades though he leans forward in the chair and brings his hands lower to cup your ass cheeks.

"Anytime?"

You can feel his soft cock gradually hardening inside your pussy and you look up at him in utter disbelief.

"Unbelievable."

You shake your head and chastise him but the smile that breaks on your face rats you put. He grins and lifts you up, walking out of the kitchen. His mouth marks up your neck and his stubble tickles, dull tusks dig into the sensitive skin.

"Just unbelievable."

You mutter to yourself again as your legs hug around his waist tighter and you feel his cum dripping out of your hole, leaving a trail all the way to his bedroom.

[orchidseason]

pirate!AU ✩‧₊˚ the stolen hummingbird [part 1/2]

𐙚 caitvi x f!reader

Kiramman, motivated by her hatred for VI’s sister, kidnaps you—the hummingbird—for your herbalist knowledge, and Vi, the theif she once shared a bond with. Consumed by revenge she drags them both into a dangerous web of conflict, and becomes blinded by how her quest for revenge is unraveling the very connections she’s desperately clinging to

warnings : word count 3.8, pirate captain!caitlyn, theif!vi, healer!r, enemies to lovers, injury, blood, loss of freedom/kidnapping, weapons, angst w comfort, side character death

You were known as the hummingbird.

Your knowledge and understanding of herbs, plants, flowers—it was unlike any other. Similar to a hummingbird, you flit from place to place, never in one place for too long. Your nickname precedes you, growing quite a reputation amongst the people. Those you have helped speaking good news, spreading word of your kindness. Those who even believe you are a myth, wishing to uncover who you are. All create talk, chatter that is ushered at tables in bars and whispered amongst alleyways.

Growing up, your parents were sick. The money crises caused you to be poor, unable to make enough to pay for medicine to help your parents. So, you took it upon yourself to create a way for them to live. It was built upon a passion to save them, help them as much as you can. It helped? You’re not fully sure, but one by one they unfortunately passed.

Herbs, plants, leaves, flowers. It never interested you. What did was the ability to help others, delay death even if it’s just another day. It started small, helping a family friend’s child. From there it was the bartender, a homeless man in an alleyway. From there, you were traveling to help someone’s aunt, friend, sometimes even their dog. You used it to heal. Seeing others smile when they realized a cut or wound or sickness, they had would be healed brought a smile to your own face. You know your parents smile down at you each time you save another. It became your job, maybe you’d consider it your destiny, your purpose.

Gulls’ Island is where you reside now. A client had a message sent to you, word of mouth. Two weeks ago, at a market someone had whispered the client’s location into your ear, having recognized you. So, like your title, you flit to their location. Now on the land, the sand under you as you walk ashore. It is night, lanterns lighting up the small town ahead of you. Their home resided on the dock; a boat parked nearby.

The chill of the air nipped at you as you grip your leather bag, hood over your head as you cross the wooden path. A few raps at their door and it opens, the person on the other side of the door looking distraught.

“Is it truly you? The one said to take away the sting?”

“Who is it that I’m assisting?”

The man opens the door fully, ushering you inside. It looks homey, the fireplace lit, and little trinkets settled around the room. You step inside, thankful for the fire as it warms you up. In the corner lies a table and a chair, on the chair lied a sick looking little kid. He had his forehead against the table, breathing shallow. You slip the cover off your head, stepping near him in caution.

“His symptoms?”

“Oh yes,” the man starts, “he’s not been eating or drinking regularly. Can’t keep it down that’s why. He seems to have a fever, headache.”

You hum, crouching on the floor and getting a closer look at his face. He’s sweating, a line dripping down his forehead. He’s shaking, fingers gripping the table.

Something feels off.

“And how long has he had these symptoms?”

“A week or so now?”

“I see,” you say and stand, eyes shifting around the room. There wasn’t a mess, it looked clean. No glass on the floor, or cuts in the wooden walls. You look back to the boy.

“Can you look up at me,” you ask softly.

He does and there’s tears in his eyes. Your expression hardens at the sight. The floor creaks behind you then and next you know you’re shoved against the wall. The man who had opened the door, explained the situation now had you pinned against the wall—a knife held at your throat. Your attention shifts from his weird expression to the woman who walks out from the bedroom, and your heart beating like a scared bunny in your chest.

Captian Kiramman.

You recognize her indigo shaded hair and eyepatch-clad eye from the pictures in the books you’ve seen and the hate posters around cities. The crew that she leads has a title that exponentially precedes yours. The Sapphire Pearl. Her stories are discussed in tragedies, her face only appearing in nightmares.

You keep your gaze steady, refusing to let your body betray you as Caitlyn’s eyes remain fixed on you. You don’t speak more, because you know there’s little point. Your hands stay still at your sides, fingers curled tightly, betraying the turmoil inside you.

She looks at you a second longer before nodding her head to the side and the man, gripping your arms in a tight bruising hold tugs you along with him. You look back to the little kid as you’re dragged out, seeing the cries escape him. Just in the other room lies his parents you presume, the bedroom where Caitlyn had been waiting. They’re tied, bound—and the sight makes your heart jump.

The man keeps a tight hold on your arm, the other holding the knife to your neck as they whip you out of the house and back onto the beach where you had only just arrived. The wind blows Caitlyn’s hair around that’s pulled back in a tight ponytail. Around the island and her ship comes into view. Settled aside an island in the distance, dark with no lights lit. You yourself couldn’t have seen it if it weren’t for a crew member pointing it out. You’re shove onto the smaller rowboat. Caitlyn sitting in it among you and a few crew members. As you’re seated, your wrists are maneuvered behind you and tied with a rope settled on the floor of the boat. Whoever tied them leaves no room, tying it to the point it hurts every time you move your wrists.

The ship as the distance grows smaller grows in size. The sheer volume bringing upon a fear within you. Just like before you’re shoved around, pulled by the same man, his hand gripping your tied hands and bringing you upon ship. They’re hundreds of people on board, their eyes on you as you’re brought on board.

You’re ushered into her Captian’s quarters. The door shuts behind you, hiding the three of you in privacy. Caitlyn leans back against her desk, and you’re held in front of her, no room to try anything.

She’s looking at you, expressionless, “the woman renowned for her assistance and healing?”

“If you want something, tell me your symptoms and I’ll hand you the ingredients for it and be on my way.

It made good sense to assume at first that she wants something you carry. A rare flower, a plant that’s only from a specific region.

“How considerate,” she says, “but the contents of your bag are not what I’m interested in, hummingbird. It’s you.”

She uncrosses her feet, heeled black boot stepping closer to you. Her eyes holding more than just simple curiosity, they’re dark and calculating. This isn’t a thievery of an item.

“Your skill, your knowledge. It’s your expertise I intend to claim, not your possessions.”

You take a deep breath to steel the way your body had a visceral response to such news. She continues, disconnected from the weight the situation holds.

“Until then, you’re to be held prisoner. Any act of rebellion will be punished.”

That’s the last word before she waves you off. It’s all a blur as you’re brought to the lower level and shoved inside a cell. The latch shuts above, and the rooms enclosed in darkness save for one lantern. You slide down onto the cold wood, chest heaving as you try and adapt to all that’s happened. Each time to try to take a deep breathe, all that you’re filled with is thick and oppressive air that smells of salt and sweat.

A jingle of chains behind you catches your attention. You turn your head only sideways, eyeing the cell across from yours in the corner of your eye. The swaying lantern’s light shifts onto her from time to time, lighting up the woman residing there.

She’s trying to keep it together, but you can see the tension in the way her muscles tighten, the way her hands clench into fists. Her hands are chained, not allowing her to go any further than the seated position she’s in. She’s furious, that much is obvious. Her eyes occasionally flicker to you, a mixture of anger and regret clouding in them. She’s not angry at Caitlyn. She’s angry at herself too.

Her voice is low and rough, but there’s an edge of vulnerability she can’t quite hide.

“Who the hell are you?”

No words are spoken as you turn your head fully to regard her silently for a long moment. There’s no need to rush an answer.

“I’m here, just like you.”

You let the silence settle between you, the words offering no explanation, no invitation to know more. It’s the bare minimum, and it’s all you’re willing to offer for now. The woman seems to consider whether to say more, then deicides against it.The tension is thick, but her guided silence says it all. You’re both here for a reason, a connection tying you all together. You both settle into a silence as the ship drifts away from shore.

You’re woken up with a start, your head lifting off the wall behind you. Three crew members come down. In a quick succession they have you in their grip as they bring you aboveboard. It’s the first time you’ve seen the sun in what—a week? Two weeks?

Caitlyn stands beside a huge table, maps and papers strewn across it. Her tight ponytail’s now loose, a sign of her anxiety and tearing her hand through her hand many times. You’re brought in as you were the night you were kidnapped. She doesn’t glance at you, eyes tired and closed off—focused solely on the map.

“What specially can you do? What all are you actually capable of? There’re rumors of your restorative infusions, one’s unlike anything one’s heard,” she stops her rambling, dragging a hand down her face, “What can do you do?”

She repeats, voice hoarse and said through gritted teeth.

“I heal.”

She shakes her head, mind working and thinking, “there needs to be more that you can do. As there’s one side of the coin, there’s the opposite,” she whispers like she’s come to a conclusion, like she’s had a brilliant idea, “I need you to make something that could kill.”

Goosebumps line your body.

“I can’t... I can’t do that.”

“You can do it. You’re capable of it. Once we arrive at this town, you are ordered to prepare it.”

“But it’s not what I do.”

She wasn’t listening, a hand waving at you to be thrown back into the cell after, rough hands of the crew shoving you. Vi, you’ve come to know her name over the past few days, focus is set on you as you’re brought back down. Her expression softens when it finds you.

“You, okay?”

“Fine.”

Vi’s eyebrows scrunch, “what did she want?”

You crouch onto the floor again, tired, “she ordered me to make something that could kill.”

It seems you’re still in shock. Your hands in front of you, shaking as you inspect them. Vi’s silent, but you can feel her frustration, her anger from where you sit. You look over the rough edges on your hands. Your hands are colder, harder to move from the cool of the water and little sunlight.

“It goes against everything I believe, Vi. I cannot make something in turn that will harm another. I can’t do that. I got into this to heal. Not... not whatever she’s planning.”

Vi’s listening, eyes stuck on the floor of her cell. She sighs, letting herself become vulnerable, honest with you.

“She’s after my sister,” she starts, “I knew her before all this. She changed when my sister killed her mom. She’s set on killing my sister. It’s the only thing on her mind. Believe me, I’ve tried to talk to her. She’s deaf to anything but revenge. The Caitlyn I knew is gone.”

Almost a month had passed.

You’ve grown used to the same walls, the same sounds of the waves hitting the sides of the ship. A few people have since been taken. Every cell has been filled. Your own cell had another woman chained across from you, making the space increasingly tighter.

After a month had passed you felt the first shift in the routined torture. It seemed the boat had come ashore. Ashford. That’s where you were. You knew since you had overheard a crew member discuss it.

It was a change, but true change didn’t happen until five days later. The sun rose and the sun set many times before it finally happened. Crew members came down again, opening the cell you sat in. Vi’s expression was dripping with poison as they dragged you up.

This is the third time you’ve seen Caitlyn. First was when she kidnapped you, second was when she commanded you go against all you’ve ever known, and now? She’s leaned back onto the chair, her right leg stretched out straight in front of her. Her face is strewn in pain, eyebrows furrowed. She looks furious, and pained, and conflicted—and many other things, they all flicker back and forth too quickly for you to keep up with.

Her cut has bled into her clothes, soaking the fabric and turning it a darker color. You’re sure you won’t be explained why such an injury happened, but it looks as if she snagged it on something.

The crew member announces their presence, but Caitlyn doesn’t rush to respond. She looks to you, silently commanding you to help her with the gash on her thigh—following that command she commands the crew guard to leave.

“But—”

“Haven’t I given you a command? Leave.”

The door shuts and so do your air pipes, the room suffocating.

Her eye-the uncovered one-is bloodshot, “why’re you still standing there?”

You’re reaching for your bag immediately after. It’s basic to always have enough for some form of cut/gash concoction. You mix it together, creating a yellow-ish paste—your eyes flickering to her thigh.

“Why kidnap me?” you ask, still focused on your work, trying to keep your hands steady despite the tremor in your fingers. “You’re obviously smart, Caitlyn. Do you really need my help?”

When she speaks, her voice is measured, betraying none of the emotion swirling beneath the surface. “I didn’t take you for your skills alone. I need your help… but it’s not just for making powders or salves.”

You glance up, brow furrowed. “Then what? Why capture me if not for that?”

Her jaw tightens as she leans in slightly, her words cutting through the air. “Because I need someone who understands pain… and how to make it disappear. You’re the only one who can help me finish what I started.”

You cover her gash, watching as she controls her pained expressions with ease. The only things that give it away are the little furrow in her eyebrows. You finish applying the paste and wrapping it. The room is quiet save for the distant creak of the ship. You wipe your hands of any excess.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Caitlyn mutters, the words barely above a whisper, her voice tinged with frustration, maybe fatigue. It’s hard to tell, but she’s looking over the secure work you did on her injury, your soft and careful fingers when you worked. You didn’t need to be careful. “But I’m not ungrateful.”

“Of course I did,” you start, packing all of the little bottles full of supplies back into your bag, “I may not have had a choice, but I—this is what I’ve always done. I’ve always helped where I can. I heal.”

There’s a shift in the air.

Because this time Caitlyn listened.

It wasn’t the last time you healed her.

A few days later you’re shoved up the stairs and forced onto your knees, Vi shoved alongside you. Her bicep brushing against yours. You look up, seagulls swarming stop of the ship—the sails fluttering in the wind. Caitlyn also stood in your vision, along with the hundreds on her ship.

“We’re traveling into Ashford, you two are accompanying.”

Ashford is full of colorful lanterns littering the rooftops, creating a welcoming and fun atmosphere. The ground has powders, scattered across the floor. Reds, purples, pinks, yellows, light blues—it’s like a disco ball. There’s a small home at the end that Caitlyn raps her knuckles upon. A man opens it, arms full of dark tattoos of a language you’re unfamiliar with. He welcomes Caitlyn, and only her—the door shutting after.

Unbeknownst to you all, that door shutting was like a countdown. The many people hidden in the roofs surrounding you engaged, aware of the trigger (that being the door).

Caitlyn had found out too, her intuition snapping into place quick. It turned out to be an ambush, supporters of Vi’s sister having tracked her there and tried to surround the crew she had brought into town.

It was in the blink of an eye, but Caitlyn had stepped in the way of an attacker—taking the brunt of the attack instead of Vi. The blood seeping into Caitlyn’s shirt from the jab to her stomach was concerning.

This was the second time you healed her.

She seemed more conflicted, eyes darting around as if she was reading her own thoughts. You had her laid down on the window chair, the noon sun shining onto the wound making it easy for you assess it. For some reason, you spoke—lips dropping open to ask a question like something tugged it out of you.

“Why did you step in front of Vi?”

It’s like her thoughts shatter, her focus coming back to the present. She exhales, her voice carrying in the quiet room, “because she’s not the one I’m after. Her sister is my enemy.”

The mixture is spread across her stomach, you watch as it flinches from the coldness of the paste. Caitlyn looks out the window, at the birds flying around.

“Vi’s sister,” she starts, the bitterness tasting in her mouth as she thinks about her, “I can’t... I can’t let that go. She killed my mother.”

But in the same breath, she looks conflicted, “But I don’t want Vi to suffer more because of what I want.”

There’s a pause, as if Caitlyn is fighting herself—fighting the love she still holds for her mother, and the desire that feels all too fresh, the one that’s consuming her and difficult to let go. It’s a fleeting moment, but it’s there: her love for Vi, burned under her pain, manifesting in subtle gestures and words left unsaid.

“I’m tired of the fighting. But I’m not done yet, I don’t feel I’ve come close enough.”

The air between you is thick with unspoken emotions—regret, love, and an overwhelming need for closure. But Caitlyn hides it well, masking it with the determination that’s been her shield. Just as she had opened up to you, her expression hardened once again—attention set on the seagull flying free.

She was still holding onto the passion for revenge, but her grip had loosened—not nearly as tight as it was when she had kidnapped you.

You’re dismissed after patching Caitlyn up. The event sun sinks low, creating an orange hue over the ship. You shut the door to the captian’s quarters behind you. The wind is softer now, the ocean brushing the sand in the background. The deck is mainly empty save for maybe ten other people—most other in the town, or under in the bunker drinking. Vi sat on a step, attention snapping to you. You glance sideways at her, silhouette outlined in the fading sunlight.

“You okay?” You ask, your voice a gentle nudge.

“Just amazing,” she says, but there’s a trace of something in her voice, “Just… tired with it all.”

You sit beside her, the air growing cooler as the sun disappears behind the horizon You’re unsure whether she’s taking about the trip to the town, Caitlyn, or the deal with her sister—could be all three. But regardless you don’t press her.

Instead you shift closer to her, seeking the warmth. You look out at the sea, as far as your vision will allow you. The sunset is beautiful—more vivid than what you could’ve imagined. But it doesn’t feel like something you can appreciate.

“Caitlyn doesn’t make it easy,” you say finally. It’s an understatement. She makes it incredibly difficult. On one side you understand her motives, on the other—youre furious, hurt with her.

Vi tenses at the mention of Caitlyn, but she doesn’t pull away.

“She’s been consumed by this need to make amends. It’s changing her. She promised me she wouldn’t change.”

Her voice cracks, just a little, and you feel the weight of her words, the deep ache behind them. You can tell how much it hurts her to see Caitlyn—the person who was becoming everything to her—became this shell of herself, this revenge-fueled version of the woman she used to know.

“You’re scared she won’t come back?” You ask softly, leaning in and meeting her eyes. The lantern near her icy eyes, lighting a fire in them from the hue. Vi doesn’t answer immediately, but the tremble in her hands and the shake in her eyes says it all. Finally she speaks.

“She was all I had left. After everything, and now she’s gone.”

You let her talk, listening to every word, eyes flickering around her face—seeing her.

“Vi” you start, “she’s still Caitlyn. Even if she’s lost and blinded by anger and hurt, even if she’s lost for some time. She’s still the person you knew. Maybe she just needs someone to remind her of that.”

You say, remembering what Caitlyn had spilled to you. Vi’s eyes flicker to you, searching you. For a long moment the world feels suspended between you two—unspoken words, shared understandings. The weight of her emotions hang in the air, but for the first time in a while, it feels like something between you two shifted.

Her breath hitches slightly, and she looks at you a little longer than usual—gaze trailing down to your lips for a moment. But just as the moment stretches, the sound of footsteps  disrupts it. You both turn, and Caitlyn appears out from the captian’s quarters. Caitlyn’s gaze shifts between the two of you. Her lips tight as she approaches the stairs to the both of you sitting there.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Caitlyn says, her voice colder than usual—annunciating each word.

Vi stands first, “we were just talking.”

Caitlyn cuts her off, “we’re leaving at dawn."

As Caitlyn leads the way towards the ship’s helm, you can’t help but wonder if this—whatever it is—might have just begun to change like the tides.

sapphire seas masterlist - next part (coming tonight)

[meowmeowriley]

Ghost wants a dog. He's thought about it for a while, done some research, put out feelers. He's allowed to have a dog where he live, has a house to himself not five minutes from base. Waste of space, he used to think, but space enough for a dog.

He needs a big dog. He's a big lad. When some people think "big dog" they're thinking of a German Shepherd Good dogs, he's sure. But only 40 kilos, max. He needs something bigger, he thinks.

At first, he thought he'd like himself a Rottweiler. Hefty. Big bodied and boisterous. Easily trainable if you've got the time and the grit, both he figured he had in spades, so long as he wasn't on an op. But then he read about tail docking and, well... he couldn't bring himself to think about it any more. Those poor puppies, he thinks.

He goes home with Soap, visiting the MacTavish farm. They're friends, he wants to see the sheep, he tells Soap. Tells himself. He won't admit that he just wants to spend more time with Johnny.

The MacTavish's have Border Collies to herd their sheep. Practical. Cute, he likes the pups, but much too small for him. Not to mention intelligence to rival the rookies he had to whip into shape on base and tripple their energy. He wasn't sure he'd want to deal with that.

But while out, on their way into town, he saw it. A huge dog standing amongst someone else's flock, head heald high and nose in the wind. Soap knew the farmer from his childhood, drove them up the lane when he caught Ghost staring. Due to his staring, Ghost had missed the sign they passed, though Soap didn't. 'Pyrenees puppies 4 sale' it read.

The farmer smiled when he noticed John, the boy who left the fields to play soldier and came back a man. John introduced him as Lieutenant 'Ghost' Riley. Ghost rolled his eyes and stuck out his hand. "Simon. Saw your dog in the field, never saw one like it. Wanted to know more." A short introduction, straight to the point.

The response was the opposite. The farmer gave him what felt like his life's story. Took what seemed to Ghost to be a year before he got to telling him about the dog, a Great Pyrenees, apparently. A large bodied, heavy white coated livestock guardian breed. He had two, the one in the field was the sire, the dam was in the barn. As he spoke, he lead the two men towards that very barn.

The farmer entered first, to separate the mother from the pups, for their protection, he said. In the barn was a sight that melted the hardened Lieutenant into a puddle of goo: a litter of snow white, fluffy puppies. Huge puppies. Sticks and hay and debris were stuck all over their fluffy bodies, Simon picked out what he could from the pups as they wallered and slobbered all over him.

Soap took over speaking to the farmer as Ghost slowly accepted that he would never again have crisp black clothes. That everything in his future would be covered in white fluff. The life expectancy of his washer and dryer had just been halved, he suspected.

The farmer explained their personality: that females tended to be more protective, they'd be a home body, not exactly a jogging companion. Loyal but brutish, often misconstrued as lazy. The beast out in the field with the flock would lay about and let the sheep climb all over him, wouldn't even bother to get up if someone hopped the fence like. But if he heard a sound he didn't like, or saw another dog or a predator in the field, he'd let loose a bark that'd freeze a man's blood, and hunt the perceived threat down come hell or high water. "And you should see her in action," the farmer laughed and shook his head. "Almost killed the male over getting too close to his own pups. Protective to a fault. 'S why I had to turn her out, you see."

Ghost saw an oversized cotton ball trip over it's own feet as it tried to get to his fingers because it needed to be pet. It was the only one without any tan or grey patch. Ghost saw his future best friend.

The farmer started to explain that these pups ought to be sent off to other farms, they wouldn't do as family dogs, but John walked him out of the barn. Explained that the man they'd left behind had no family to speak of, needed something other than work to focus on, and if anyone were able to handle the instincts and behavioral issues of a livestock guardian without livestock, it'd be Simon. The farmer agreed, so long as he made sure to choose a male, for safety reasons.

The two drove off another twenty minutes later, after Simon had listened with rapt attention to the farmer detailing everything about what the pups had been through up to that point, and what he'd need to do moving forward to make sure his little guy was happy and healthy, Ghost holding young Spirit to his chest.

From that point on all of Ghost's belongings had long white fur and drool on them, courtesy of his personal polar bear.

On the day of their wedding their ring bearer was their own pseudo-bear, and nobody left the venue without drool or fur on their clothes.

[love-marimo]

Scary Dog Privilege (Zoro x Fem!Reader)

Lolita's Note: just a self-indulgent hcs where a protective zoro would absolutely do anything for u, even if it includes beating shitty men who would dare to even lay their hands on u.

also hi!!! it's been a while since i last wrote something. my asks are open if u want to chat or request something. ♡

cw: swearing, violence, attempts of harassment

one thing that zoro loves are duels. whether it's a friendly spar or a full on fight with an enemy ー he always gives it his all with no mercy. he is competitive to a T. after all, he is the pirate hunter. his bounty speaks volumes, and he made a pledge to be undefeated in his journey to become a master swordsman.

there is one thing he despises the most though.

it's when these fights involve you.

he trusts that you can protect yourself, and that you can turn down advances from men.

you told him countless times that they don't interest you. and that it's best to just ignore those flirtatious remarks you get whenever it happens.

but it shouldn't happen when he's around.

because oh boy, would it cause a scene.

like when you're walking together around town on an island your crew docked into, and there's a festival going on.

you decide to wear a tight shirt and shorts. it hugged your body well, and it was comfortable enough to wear on a humid night.

he doesn't mind you wearing revealing clothing. hell, you can wear a bikini bra and jeans like nami does and he wouldn't care, unlike a certain love cook who would go crazy.

anyway, you would get passersby to look over your way.

then you'd hear men whistling at you.

then it escalates to drunk men approaching you and ogling at you.

except it was a futile attempt because zoro's already in front of you clutching one of his swords, glaring and ready to attack anytime.

"go ahead. shoot your shot."

"what the fuck do you want from her?"

"need something?"

"what the hell did you say?"

yeah. they're not walking home unscathed tonight.

in some instances, there would be pirates who would take interest on you, and they're willing to fight your boyfriend on the spot.

"oh? someone's offended here. fellas, should we beat him up?" one would say.

"go for it boss! take the girl as a prize too!" one of their crew agrees.

zoro doesn't waste time so that they won't utter another word again.

he doesn't even need to use haki to take them down. only one sword would do the job.

and while you appreciate him being protective over you, you assure him that you can defend yourself just fine.

you would definitely get into a small argument about it.

"zoro, i'm not weak you know. i can defend myself just fine." you say while cleaning a small cut he got from fighting a random creep attempting (poorly and miserably) to make a move on you.

"it's not that you're weak. just let me do my job as your partner."

"i know that but still-"

"if you want to keep entertaining them, just tell me and i'll stop."

"are you serious right now? i'm just telling you that i'm strong on my own too!"

"exactly. that's why i'm asking you that."

you both went back and forth for a while until someone from the crew breaks it up (probably nami or usopp).

at the end of the day, you'll end up in each other's arms and you'll be thanking him for being your loyal scary dog. ღ'ᴗ'ღ

"i thought you didn't like me fighting for you."

"never said that. shut up" you laugh, kissing him on his cheek and feeling him smiling at that.

ー Lolita

[vonspe]

I bought veilguard. Anything I should really do in the game?

Pet all the dogs in dock town for me

[hellishjoel]

cherry 

7.6k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

summary: Joel invites you over for a movie night with your parents and Sarah out of town. How are you supposed to focus on the film with his hand on your thigh? 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20s while Joel is in his 40s), cursing, alcohol consumption, use of pet names, softdom! Joel AND dom!Joel (restraint by command), oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, reader titty appreciation, super descript about Joel’s bulging biceps (we all know the picture that came out with him holding onto his luggage and I have not REST)

A/N: I wrote all of this today.. I don't know what's wrong with me. I hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope these two are growing on ya'll as much as they're growing on me <33

Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him.  You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder.  “You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”

A few times throughout the summer, the lakehouse was yours and yours alone.  While on vacation, your parents always make it a point to go out to dinner and drinks with their old friends that lived in a neighboring town, leaving you in blissful solitude. 

You used to go with them when you were younger, too young to be left home alone. You’d hang out with their son, Nathan, on the tire swing or go swimming in their pool. 

Once you and Nathan both turned thirteen, you found that Nathan was involved in a lot of sports leagues that summer, and therefore he wasn’t going to be around much. Your parents didn’t want to punish you and force you to hang out with four grown adults all day, so they let you stay behind at the lakehouse. 

It was your first sense of freedom, taking care of yourself, having your own routine. You remember breaking into your piggy bank and riding your bike into town with Sarah that day to play at the arcade. You came back home with your lackluster arcade prizes and made mediocre hot dogs. It was a little lonely, the house often bustling with noise from your parents, but it was also serene to be alone. 

Needless to say, you were at peace to wave your parents off this morning as they backed out of the driveway and left you and the lakehouse for the day. 

Your eyes flitted over to the Miller’s. Both Joel’s pickup truck and Sarah’s used and abused 2000’s red Saturn were parked in the shade. Part of you couldn’t believe Sarah could even drive. That five-year-ish age difference felt even more profound as young adults. 

You tried to find ways to busy yourself tonight until your date with Joel. Date? Not a date. Hang out. Movie night. Meet up. Rendezvous. Literally any other word besides date. 

You needed to distract yourself because tonight was a ways away. 

You busied yourself with cleaning your room and bathroom, followed by reading on the dock. When it got too warm, you took a refreshing dip in the lake, followed by some leisurely sunbathing. After a shower, you found solace in jotting down your thoughts in your journal, channeling any residual nerves about the upcoming night.

You found that documenting your summer experiences provided you with a sense of clarity. You aimed to revisit these entries later in life, reminiscing about the intensity of your emotions. These pages held memories of your first boyfriend, the elation of passing your driving test, the ache of lost friendships, and the journey to college.

After the bonfire, before you couldn’t even think about sleeping, you were ferociously writing in your journal. The way your heart raced, the way you were so proud of yourself for taking a leap of faith with Joel. Because it was so, so worth it. 

In the decades to come, the memories you once experienced that felt so fresh would naturally fade. That’s the point of your journals, to document how deeply you felt about your life at the time. Pouring your emotions onto the page felt like tending to a wounded heart. In hindsight, those entries about sadness and turmoil elicited a little giggle. Your mom always told you that it was better to feel anything than not to feel at all. 

You wondered how much Joel felt, like, really felt. On the surface, he was as cold and unmoveable as stone. What was he like with his passions and the people he cared about? You knew he loved Sarah to an unimaginable degree. He would do anything for her. But besides his own blood, what were the things he cared about? 

After putting pen to paper, you shoved your journal under your pillow and started to get ready. You over-dicked-around, and now the clock was ticking.  

You wanted to look somewhat nice. After your recent interactions with Joel, one where you quite literally looked like you just rolled out of bed, you were keen on looking at least somewhat presentable. 

But it was a movie night, after all, and you wanted to be comfortable. You opted to wear something simple, not too date-ey, not too casual. But you did wear Joel’s hoodie. It wasn’t for any overt purpose but because Joel’s house consistently seemed to mimic an icebox. Joel struck you as someone who could thrive in Alaska, content in solitude amid the cold. 

The hoodie still smelled like him, mixed with a little residual bonfire smoke, but his scent was still deeply lodged into the fabric. A navy hoodie with fraying material around the neckline and cuffs. Well-worn and well-loved. He must have loved it enough not to take it to work because it was free of any stains and rips from what you could tell. 

You twirled your finger around the hoodie’s strings, looking yourself over slowly in the mirror. Your eagerness practically floated you over to Joel’s house, Sarah’s car now gone. She must have left for her camping trip. 

After taking cautious steps up Joel’s rickety porch, you sent a rhythmic knock against the Miller’s front door. You heard a few heavy steps on the other side, hearing a lock flip before Joel appeared in front of you.

“It’s about time, I was starting to sweat.” You said as you pulled open the screen door that divided you two before walking past him, catching his subtle eye roll as you did so. 

The house looked like the same as it did ten years ago. Lots of dark wood, a cozy living room with a fireplace, and a lamp in the corner by the window. Joel had the perfect view of the lake. You naturally gravitated further into the room to look at the water glisten as the last hits of sunshine glided over the horizon. 

“You want somethin’ to drink?” 

Your head snapped to Joel, your arms already crossed at the cooler temperature piercing through the material of your clothes. 

“Yeah, what do you have?” Your small steps trekked into the kitchen, finally taking a full look at Joel. Your face faltered at the sight of him. 

Joel had traded in his usual tattered green flannel for a nicer, cleaner denim button-up. He had on his staple worn-in jeans, and for whatever reason, he still had on his work boots. But his hair was sort of run-through, freshly showered and combed back. He looked handsome, clean, like he was trying. 

You slyly smiled at him. He seemed to quickly catch your drift, already avoiding your eye contact with a huff. “I got... Whiskey,”

“Ew, no.” 

“Root beer,”

“Nope.”

Joel let out an excruciatingly long sigh as he ducked his head further into the depths of his fridge, mumbling something about you being a piece of work.

“It’s water, or,” with a groan, he stood up from the fridge, “this bottle of wine. Probably old.” 

Old? The bottle looked nothing but. No dust, fresh label, barely chilled. You didn’t want to call out the poor man for trying to make tonight classy, but you knew Joel had purchased this bottle of wine for tonight. For you. 

If it were any other date or any other guy, you would have pushed his nose into it a bit. Teased them for caring and being so sweet. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Joel. And if you ever tried to admit that you saw right through him, he would clam up for the rest of the evening out of his adorable bashfulness. So you let it be. For now. 

“Wine’s good.” You say casually with a little nod, trying to relax your cocky smile. Even when he turned around to fetch some old wine glasses inside the very top of a kitchen cabinet, you could tell he was satisfied with himself. Hiding a smile with his back turned. 

You pulled the bottle closer to read the label. You rolled it around in your hand, your thumb tracing the stamped lettering. Cherry wine. 

“Haven’t had a chance to eat all day, got us some pizzas,” Joel said as his head nodded to the side, following the direction to two pizzas still warm and in their cardboard box homes on the counter. 

“Can’t have a movie night without pizza.” Your voice cooed as you set down the wine to take a peak inside, seeing all of its cheesy glory. 

Joel topped off a singular wine glass, your head twisting curiously at just the one. He clinked your glass with his beer bottle, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Thanks.” You murmured, turning on your heel to grab your glass and one of the pizza boxes before walking it to his living room. 

You sat right in the middle of the couch, not giving Joel any excuse to sit too far away. 

“Scootch,” Joel said as he motioned with his beer bottle to make room on the couch. You made a little noise of disapproval toward him. 

“Mm-mm.” You shook your head.

“What?”

Your sneaker tapped the heel of his boot. 

“Take those off. You can’t relax during a movie still wearing work boots.” 

He looked a little perplexed before looking down at his boots. Probably forgot they were even on. They were practically his spare feet at this point. 

“Fine. You too.” He said as his steel toe gently nudged your sneakers in return. You softly nodded, both of you undoing your laces. Sitting on the couch arm, Joel worked to loosen one boot and then the other, hearing the methodical snap of the laces. You slip yours off with ease, picking them up by the upper heel collar and tossing them by the door. Joel just kicked his aside and sat down next to you with a thump into the cushion. 

“We’re watching Pride & Prejudice.” You commandeered the remote out of his hand, his eyebrow cocking to you in disbelief. 

“The hell is that?”

Disbelief tangled your facial expression. “You’ve never seen Pride & Prejudice?”

Joel’s cocked his head to the side, face sitting like stone. Really? 

“Do I look like the type’a guy that watches Pride & Prejudices?” 

You rolled your eyes and huffed. 

“It’s based on the novel by Jane Austen. About... literally so much. The independence of women. Societal norms relating to gender and marriage. Any of this ring a bell?” 

“I know Sarah likes it. That’s about it.” Your smile quips up as you click play. “Perfect.” 

“Do we have to?” His annoyance held no restraint. 

“This movie night is to get back into my good graces, is it not?” You asked as your body leaned away, getting a good look at him. 

Through tight lips, he held back a smile before nodding a little and turning to the opening credits. “Yes, ma’am.” 

It didn’t take long for Joel’s arm to settle around your shoulders, bringing your body into his side. His thumb was stroking the hoodie you wore, his hoodie. 

In his close proximity once again, your senses pick up on his now all too familiar scent; Woody, minty, a little bit of citrus from his body wash. He smelled good, you wonder if he wore cologne tonight or if this was his natural musk. You wouldn’t put it past Joel to naturally smell this good. He was good at a lot of things without even trying. 

A few slices of pizza and two glasses of wine later, you started to feel the weight of Joel’s unbearably heavy arm. You released yourself from him and opted to turn and rest your side against the back of the couch cushions, putting your legs in his lap. 

You hadn’t been watching the movie for the last twenty minutes. Couldn’t stop trying to subtly look at how handsome Joel looked in the flicker of the television’s light from your peripheral. You couldn’t help it. He looked so big and hot, like a lumberjack, his stupid build alone making you fold. 

You bite at the inside of your cheek as Joel’s large and warm palm gently make slow strokes up and down your calf. Your body was trying not to twitch. Your heart was thrumming in your throat. You glanced up at him again, his eyes lasered in on the television. 

“Why’d he…” Joel’s voice trailed off, bringing your attention back to the screen. 

Your eyelashes fluttered, your brain trying to get you out of Joel Fantasy World and back into the film. “Hm? What?” 

“Why’d his hand cramp like that? Why’d they film that part?” Without intention, Joel’s curiosity was evident in his question. It immediately made you smile as you watched the television again, your body slumping into his side. 

“It’s not a hand cramp, he’s flexing it. It’s the film’s interpretation of his like… emotional turmoil and struggle. His feelings are evolving for Elizabeth, though he’s trying to appear all aloof and distant towards her. But their physical connection, he can’t really hide it, y’know? He can’t hide how he feels. So he flexes his hand because he’s affected by her presence and her touch. He can’t help it.” 

Joel’s hanging onto every word you say. You’re not so sure if he’s interested in the film as much as he is in hearing you talk about it. The hand that was messing around on your calf was now trailing higher up your thigh. And flexing the higher it climbed.

Your eyes looked from his amber ones to his lips, your heart racing faster in your chest. With one hand still clutching your wine glass, you managed to swing one leg over his lap to straddle him. You folded first. You couldn’t take Joel’s achingly slow touches. 

His enjoyment was obvious in his movements, his calloused hands slowly pushing up your thighs until they landed on the security of your waist. He was gripping the hoodie in his fists, observing your silhouette. 

“This mine, too.” It wasn’t a question, he was pointing it out to you. Joel giving you his own clothes to wear was by no mistake. It was a way of marking what was his, even if it was just in his mind. 

“Mine now.” Your words were whispered, leaning down and kissing at the hook of his jawline. 

“Like you in it. Wear it a hell’uva lot better than I do.” The shift in his voice was clear, huskier, and a little touch drunk. The film’s volume seemed softer now, playing as white noise and falling abandoned. 

His words made your stomach flip, your teeth purposely grazing against his skin. The motion made his hands trail down lower to the globes of your ass, humbly squeezing the flesh with the spans of his palms. A weak moan left your lips against his ear as he planted kisses on the inner side of your neck and on your shoulder. He was so fuckin’ greedy for you. 

“Joel,” you whispered between kisses along his jawline, lips coming up to his chin as one of your hands gently cupped the side of his neck while the other clutched your wine glass for dear life. 

As soon as your lips came close to his, you faltered. And Joel could tell. 

Suddenly both of your eyes were open, soft, and holding contact. Your lips parted, but nothing came out. The only thing that actually came from you was a little sigh of disappointment, your eyes shyly flitting away. 

Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him. 

You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder. 

“You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”

This was Joel’s second or so attempt to kiss you. The first time was on the tailgate of his truck, you didn’t even think about letting him kiss you in his woodshed. 

You weren’t trying to remain mysterious or aloof, something he managed to do so naturally. You shifted in his lap uncomfortably, your eyes drifting to the window behind his head and watching the water shift in the black of night. 

“It’s not that deep, Joel. Just don’t want anyone to get attached.” You shrug and shake your head. “I don’t know, who cares?” 

“I care.” Even blasted on movie pizza and beers, he was as quick as a whip. His care wasn’t soft, it was strong. He cared like a fiercely loyal shield. 

You exhaled a deep sigh, your chest reflecting your breath as he slowly brought you back to him.

“I’m scared that I’ll like it.” The movie’s distant volume was comforting white noise to your nerve-wracked conversation with Joel. This was perhaps the most you’ve talked with him in one sitting. And about something so deeply personal, too. 

He took in what you said, slowly beginning to shake his head as his hand cupped more seriously against your jawline. 

“”t’s just a kiss.” His tone was seductive, sincere. Whispering like no one else in the world could hear. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t feel pressured, Joel was looking at you like he genuinely cared about what you had to say. About the movie, about the kissing. He bought you wine, he got pizzas, and he’s suffering through a period drama to sit beside you on his couch. Damn you, Joel Miller. 

You felt your body relax into his again, no longer cold and rigid. Your bodies meshed as you fell into the front of his chest, your hand on his neck moving up to cup his jaw. You tilted up his face and received no resistance. Just kiss him. 

You met his lips, soft and sweet, delicate and gentle. Your hand slipped from his jaw and landed absentmindedly on his chest, feeling his thumping heartbeat against your palm. 

You didn’t pull away. It was impossible. 

He tasted like mint and whiskey, with hints of residual smoke from a cigarette earlier in the day. You wouldn’t know he smoked unless you were tasting him like you were right now. 

Joel was encouraging something out of you, deep and primal, as you let the kiss deepen. He took the lead with a heady mix of softness and urgency. 

He set a scorching fire between your legs, purely drunk on his lips alone. It sent a shiver down your spine how intense this stone-like man could be. Your mouths moved with desire and rhythm, feeling an electric spark that sent your senses ablaze. 

Goosebumps had sprinkled across the skin of your arms, your once soft hand on his jaw now clutching him there and tugging lightly at his curly tendrils. You weren’t letting him go. 

Your sounds filled the room, hot and wet kisses punching the air from both of your lungs. 

A breath was shared, your forehead on his as both of your chests rose and fell together.

His eyes caught yours. More?

You gently nod. Please. 

He was back with you in a hot heat, both of you wanting, no, needing more of one another. 

He balanced a tantalizing fusion of passion and longing, a magnetic pull that had you grinding your hips down into his lap. 

The world around you faded into a blur as you felt his tongue glide across your lower lip, asking permission. Your lips easily parted, tongues dancing and melting, your hands shaking a bit in excitement. 

Joel was consuming you. His tongue marking his territory as he explored your mouth before kissing you heatedly once more. You realized that the kiss wasn’t an exploration of feelings at all, Joel wanted to languish in your taste, stake out the claim of your mouth. Taste and territory. 

 A low grunt left the depths of his throat as your hips ground over him with desperation now. You could feel his dick swelling against your ass. 

Your lips quirked up in a smirk against his, you liked that you could feel his facial expressions, and he, yours. 

Without thinking, you went to cup his face in both hands, your wine glass dropping onto Joel’s chest, and what little wine you had left was splashing his denim button-up red. He didn’t even notice. 

“Joel--, wait,” you were breathless as you pulled away, his lips moving to the open expanse of your neck instead, his arms tight around your lower back. He could care less about his shirt, or the wine, or the spare glass rolling around between your stomachs. 

You laughed breathlessly, closing your eyes as you kept your chests apart, careful not to get wine on his favorite sweatshirt next. Your head fell back, your hair fanning out as you grinned at the ceiling. 

“Joel, your shirt is stained.” You tried to point out, both of your hands clamped onto his shoulders weakly to keep him at a distance. But his lust-filled lips had a taste of you that he couldn’t replace. His teeth grazed the soft skin of your neck, wincing lightly as you let out a broken little whimper. 

“Don’t care.”

Oh my god. Fuck. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, desperate for more, but you weren’t going to let him stain one of maybe three decent shirts he owned. And with wine, you had to be fast acting. 

“Come on,” you said weakly, not even convinced yourself to break away.  “Joel, your shirt-”

“Don’t. Care.” He growled through gritted teeth, eyes hungry as you felt him lick a hot, slow stripe up your neck to your jaw. Fuck, he felt so good. 

Despite his clear lack of empathy for his shirt, you felt bad because it was your spill, your accident to try and make up to him. 

You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head. He didn’t stop until you planted both palms against his pecs and pushed him back with little force, watching as he fell into the cushions with a lazy smirk on his face as he looked over you. Joel was drunk off your kiss. 

You found your footing on the hardwood floors, grabbing his hands and attempting to pull him up and off the couch. He playfully resisted, just kept sitting there as you weakly tried again. 

“Stop bein’ such a dick.” You huffed. His laugh filled the room, nearly startling you. It was always quite the opportunity to hear him laugh so big like that. 

“Couldn’t pull me up no matter how hard ya try.” 

“Shut up. Stand up.” You ordered with little follow-through from Joel.

He yanked his hands from yours and planted his palms onto the tops of his thighs, pushing himself off the couch and following you aimlessly to his master bathroom. 

“Do you have some hydrogen peroxide? Dishwasher detergent?”

He stayed silent but looked at you quizzically. You rolled your eyes and started looking through different cabinets. 

“Baking soda?” Cocking your head to him, he nods and disappears before returning to you with the little orange Arm & Hammer cardboard box. 

You cleared your throat and looked at him expectantly. 

“Joel, I can’t clean the shirt with you wearing it. Take it off.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see his lips upturned in a cocky smirk. Sometimes you just wanted to smack it clean off his face. 

Fine. With a sense of ferocity, you began to take him down button by button. He lets you. He even steps closer to your body, and you try not to get distracted by him. 

“I don’t wanna be the one that messes up your nice shirts.” You murmur. 

“t’s fine.” He cups your cheek again and tries to divert your attention once more. He’s not even actively trying to kiss you, he just wants to get a rise out of you now. You’re trying not to smile at him in the reflection of his bathroom mirror. Your elbow jabs into his bare abdomen after you’ve peeled the wet material from his torso. 

“Quit it.”

“Quit what?” 

Forcing yourself to turn away from him wasn’t enough. Now he’s behind you planting kisses down the side of your neck with his hands on your waist and toying with the hem of your sweatshirt.

You had to admit being on his lap like that got you hot and bothered to the tenth degree. Now you were nursing a stained shirt and the ache in your core. 

“‘lright, fine.” Oh, thank god. You could breathe again. You were this close to caving, and caving to Joel was a losing game. 

He found a towel and wiped at his chest and torso while you blotted away with a paper towel the excess wine in his shirt. After getting out what you could, you sprinkled the baking soda over the little splashes of red and added a few drops of water to make somewhat of a paste. Now you just had to wait for it to dry and toss it in the laundry. 

You hoped you didn’t ruin the denim shirt, you quite liked how he looked in it. The blue denim complimented the soft silver in his curls, and the cuffs rolled up accentuated his biceps.

Speaking of biceps. Your eyes innocently watched him move around the bathroom shirtless. He was somewhat toned, a handsome mix of dad bod and muscle. Like a sexy lumberjack. He was big and broad, wide in the shoulders and smaller in the waist. With all the summer log chopping, his biceps were toned.  

A shaky breath left your mouth, his eyes catching yours in the mirror before you quickly looked away, washing your hands of the baking soda paste you had made. 

“It’s uh… It’s good now. Just let it dry and put it in the washer. Alone. Without anything else in there.” You quickly nodded, over-clarifying again. You braved looking at him again in the mirror. Mistake. A smug little smile that beat up your guts was laced on his lips. 

Your hand was quick to reach for the door handle, but his hand was already on your other wrist and pulling you into his front. 

“Get back here,” Your name drips off his lips, and it’s drenched in lust. 

Fuck it. 

Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, feeling his raised trap muscles under your forearms as your lips reunite with Joel’s. 

Getting that first kiss between you two out of the way was a blessing in disguise because now you knew him. You were acquainted with his lips. You liked his taste, you liked how soft he was, you liked the stubble of his beard, and you liked the way his warm palms were on you as soon as you entered his space. He embraced every inch of you, his kisses were feverish, and they left your mind in a tailspin. No one had ever kissed you like this before. 

You ducked your head down before he could stop you, kissing over his wine-spoiled chest. You kissed lower and lower before licking a slow stripe up his sternum, tasting residual cherry and sweetness from the wine. 

Your lips parted as you looked in the mirror, realizing now that he had pinned both your wrists behind your back and planted them at your tailbone. 

Your doe eyes innocently looked up at him, his face masked in desire and an appetite for you. 

“Get on your knees.” 

A breath hitched in your throat, your eyes trying to focus as you looked over Joel’s face. Your eyes fluttered down to his biceps, strong and defined with veins lining like rivers coursing along the curves as they held your wrists back. You didn’t hesitate to drop down to your knees. 

He had let go of your wrists, so you brought your hands up to undo the button of his jeans, but he tsk-ed you. 

“But I-”

“But nothing. Put your hands behind your back again.” You pouted but obeyed. You wanted to touch him. 

Your lips parted as you watched Joel pop open the button of his jeans, his thumbs lining the hem of his jeans and boxers at his hips before pushing them down to his thick thighs. His cock was already half-hard from when you were grinding on him back on the couch. 

Your breaths grew heavier, you couldn’t manage to stay in his hoodie. You peeled the heavy navy sweatshirt off, leaving you in nothing underneath, which earned sweet praise from Joel as soon as you laced your hands once more behind your back.

“So fuckin’ pretty.. Look at you.” He lightly leaned over and cupped one of your tits, massaging it in the heart of his palm and rolling your taut nipple around with his thumb. A quiet whine was elicited from your throat, face crumbling as your hands fought hard not to release themselves behind your back. 

You wanted to touch him, cup his face, hold his thighs, wrap your hand around his dick that was flush against his stomach. 

A harsher tug to your nipple left you moaning, watching as he leaned down and let a long, long dribble of spit connect from his lips down onto your chest. Your head fell back at the cool sensation, feeling it aid the heat of your breasts. 

He stood up tall again, broad and towering, as you glanced over to the mirror. The dynamic was almost charming. You on your knees for Joel, his blushing cock swelling against his happy trail. He was so handsome, so greedy. 

Without thinking, you released your hands from around your back and moved to steady yourself on his thighs. 

“Not gonna tell you again, pretty girl.” You paused and looked to Joel. “No usin’ your hands tonight. Just that dirty mouth a’yours.” His accent was drenched with lust, dripping like syrup. 

You whined as you assumed your position with your hands away, not knowing what to expect if you tried to use them again. 

You attempted to crawl closer to him, your knees practically between his slightly parted legs. 

You kissed up his inner thigh, grinning lightly at the slight taste of his sweat. Your tongue kitten licked at his balls, hearing him seethe in a breath through gritted teeth. Sensitive, a little wrinkled, lightly groomed just for you. It made you smirk that he cared enough to trim. 

You tested the waters, letting your warm mouth coat him in saliva, going from one ball to the other until they were both practically dripping. His cock was twitching for your attention, but Joel was above begging and groveling. For now. 

With devilish eyes, you looked up to him as you suckled one of his balls. He didn’t stop you, just cursed a little under his breath as his chest moved faster. You picked up the suckling from him when he nursed your sensitive, throbbing clit between his teeth and tongue. Now, it was your turn to repay the favor. 

Your lips released him with a pop, and you watched as Joel let out a breath he was holding in. His hand loosely fisted your hair in a loose ponytail atop your head, a little moan leaving your mouth as your scalp tingled with his tug. 

Your eyes closed as you worked over the other ball, suckling and licking and doing it all just to watch his cock grow angrier and more jealous of the attention. Your own spit was falling down your lips and chin, coating your breasts in a glistening sheen. 

Working without your hands, you used your core to balance yourself against Joel. Your knees dug uncomfortably into the floor. He liked watching you work to suck him off. 

You had to look to Joel for assistance, his shaft so hardened now against his stomach that you couldn’t reach. You sat up as straight as you could, Joel smirking down at you and watching you struggle for a few brief moments. “Come ‘ere, pretty girl.” He used the free hand not tangled in your locks to guide his tip down to your open mouth, your lips wrapping loosely around the head.

You made the mistake of releasing him out of habit, whimpering as your knees scrambled on cold tile to get him back to the warmth of your mouth. He opted to help you again, guiding his tip onto your red, wine-stained tongue. 

This time, you learned not to release him. Your tongue salivated his tip, swollen and sensitive. You could tell by how tight Joel clutched your hair and nearly pulled you off. 

You smirked lazily around him as you took him deeper, your watery eyes on his as you interlocked your fingers by your tailbone. 

You were slow at first, little nods back and forth, up and down his shaft. You blinked through any residual tears, slicking him up with your spit and proceeding farther down his shaft. You clenched your eyes closed and choked lightly as you took him to his base, a low groan of praise leaving Joel as his thumb stroked up your cheekbone. 

“Fuck me, so fuckin’ good for me, darlin’.” His words were broken by his rasp, but the praise sent you into overdrive. 

You bobbed your head at a good pace, Joel guiding you by your hair up and down his shaft, slicked by excess saliva that was dripping onto your tits and your stomach. You had to take a breath, but you learned from earlier. Your head came to rest against his thigh, head foggy as his tip sat plump against your cheek. You looked at the two of you in the mirror, and it was quite a sight. 

Joel’s body was planted by his heels, his toned torso and biceps protruding with hints of sweat. You had black-smudged tears on your waterline, and your face was filled with warmth. Your hair was a mess, Joel gently stroking it back from your sweat-glistened forehead as you breathed through your nose. You liked watching you work in the mirror. Watching him get ruined in the mirror. Watching yourself get ruined in the mirror. 

You started your rhythm again, this time your eyes locked loosely on the mirror in your peripheral. Joel’s cock made you choke each time you took him deep, but you didn’t let it stop you. He was so close, you had the heady taste of his precum on your tongue. He liked it messy. 

“Fuck- can’t,” Joel let out a rugged moan, it felt like it vibrated the tiles under your aching knees. Your wrists were throbbing from keeping your arms back, hands clenched together tight as you followed his rules. “Can’t hold on when you take me so-- so goddamn good.”

You whimper-whined against his cock, hollowing your cheeks as you moved with intent up and down his shaft. You opted just to take what you easily could now, focused on keeping the pace and working towards his orgasm. You thought about Joel fucking your mouth, but he wanted you to feel some sense of control since you had your hands back. Maybe you wanted to lose all control. If it was Joel you were losing it with. 

Joel was close, he couldn’t hold back how messy he had gotten. He had a steel-tight grip on your hair, and his breaths were laced with broken moans and grunts of your name. He kept wiping away any tears that slipped past your eyes and onto your cheeks, despite being devastatingly close to an orgasm you knew he was drunk on. 

“Yeah, fuck me,” He murmured under his breath, his cock twitching deep in your throat now. “Take me so well... The fuckin’ best, babygirl.” The best. 

You watched through blurry, head-dizzy vision as Joel’s ab muscles contorted. “Gonna cum, baby, stay with me.” He panted, eyes locking on yours as you nodded on his shaft and continued your sweet rhythm. 

You whimpered as his tip pulsed against your tongue, going down on him as deep as you could and clenching your eyes closed, waiting for Joel’s impending climax. And he kept you there as he painted your throat white. 

His cum came out in hot ropes, moaning lowly against his shaft as you focused on tasting him and breathing through your nose. He was salty, little beads landing in the back of your throat as you swallowed around him. 

Joel’s moans were glorious, breathy, and aching to say your name. His eyes had fallen closed, his stance still tall and broad. You wanted to touch him, kiss him. You decided to lay your head against his thigh, still breathing around his dick as you watched yourself in satisfaction through his mirror. 

“Fuck,” he murmured low, pulling you off of him with a pop. Your jaw lightly throbbed, but god, you felt like you were in the clouds. 

“Hands?” Your raw voice whimpered. He gave a silent nod of approval, and with his permission, you released your interlocked hands and lightly toppled back on your ass, leaning against the door to his linen closet. 

Joel observed you for a few moments, making sure you were okay before he grabbed a spare washcloth and ran some lukewarm water over it. Your eyes peeked open when you heard his zipper go up on his jeans, seeing he had straightened out his bottom half. 

You tried to focus your vision, seeing him squat down beside you and lightly press the cold washcloth to your temple, cheeks, and up your neck. It helped, you were settled, safe, and with Joel.

“Holy fuck.” You finally said once you had come down from your high. Your eyes met Joel’s, seeing both of your mouths were quirked up in lopsided smiles. 

“Too much?” He asked, the washcloth now delicately cleaning up the saliva on your breasts. 

You slowly shook your head. No, never too much. Just new. 

You looked around, feeling an ache in your knees and in your wrists. You rolled your wrists in circles to relieve some pressure on the joints before you pushed your palms up and down your kneecaps gently.

“Hey,” Joel’s words caught your attention, turning to him as he lightly cupped your cheek. “You were fuckin’ perfect, darlin’.” A weak mewl left you, a tired smile on your lips. 

“You said the best.” 

“Was perfect. Was the best. Did a perfect job.” His praise punched excitement through your veins, regaining your strength to stand back up with Joel’s honorable assistance. You murmur a thanks before you make a grab for Joel’s hoodie. As if he was going to steal it back from you. 

Joel excused himself to go clean up the kitchen, leaving an attentive kiss on your cheek before he left you alone. 

You took a few minutes to rinse some water around in your mouth and try to brush your fingers through your knotted, matted hair. 

“Need to get yourself a brush, Mr. Miller.” You murmur as you pass him in the kitchen, seeing he pulled on a new t-shirt and that he had put some of the leftover pizza in spare Tupperware containers. 

“Can’t eat it all by myself, and Sarah won’t be home for a few more days.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. He could so totally finish that pizza if he wanted to. He could do it tonight as soon as you leave. 

Reading your mind, he shoved the container into your hands. “Just-- fuckin’ take it, why you gotta make things so damn difficult.” 

You smirked and patted the container softly. “My specialty. Irritating old grouchy men.” 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head at you, picking up the wine bottle next and figuring out what to do with it. Your eyes softened, watching the gears turn in his head for how he was going to handle this situation. 

“Do you care if I take the rest of it home, actually? I know it’s yours, and it’s been yours for a while, but it was really good.” Lame excuse. Joel leaned into it though, nonetheless. You were at Joel’s side now, looking to him with gentle eyes and a tender smile. He teetered on his feet for a moment before he nodded and handed it over. 

“Yeah, you’re doin’ me a favor so it doesn’t just keep sittin’ in the fridge.” 

You nodded softly and tried to jam the cork back in as well as you could, Joel swiftly taking the bottle from you and popping it back into its home with ease due to his sheer strength. 

You turned to the television and huffed, seeing the credits of Pride & Prejudice roll. Dammit.  

Joel joined you at your side, crossing his arms and giving the television a once over. “So did they, y’know, end up together?” There was Joel’s pure curiosity again. This time, he didn’t hide it so well. 

“Guess you’ll have to watch to find out. Don’t forget to throw that shirt in the washer.” You said with a cocky grin, holding up the wine bottle and pizza leftovers in gratitude before walking to the door. Joel followed you out, and you looked at him curiously. 

“Gotta make sure you get home safe.” 

Your head rolled to the side, watching as he shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “What?”

“Joel, I’m staying right next door. You could see me go inside from your living room window.” 

He just shook his head and looked beyond you to the water. 

“t’s dark.” 

Your chest fluttered with warmth, a smile on your lips growing past one you could deny. Let him have this one. 

“Thanks, Joel. Thanks for the pizza and the wine and… stuff.” Now it was his turn to let you have this one. The stuff. The kiss. The multiple kisses. He didn’t make it a big deal, just rolled with the punches. You appreciated it. 

You wanted to know what was next for the two of you. The feeling of your cores grazing one another set a fire in you that only Joel could put out. 

You pondered whether or not to kiss him goodnight and find a lame excuse to try and thank him again for the wine bottle when you saw two pairs of headlights coming down the road. 

“Shit,” you murmured under your breath, looking to Joel with a pained expression. He looked disappointed. 

You didn’t say goodnight, you didn’t kiss him before you left, you just… left. You moved down Joel’s rickety wooden porch steps with haste, sneaking into the lakehouse through the garage door as your heart thrummed at a face pace. You felt like a child getting caught by your parents. 

You didn’t know what to do with Joel’s pizza container and the wine. You could figure out an excuse for the pizza later, so you shoved it into the fridge, but definitely not the half-drank bottle of red wine. You double-checked that the cork was in there tight, and of course it was because Joel pushed it back in, but you couldn’t help but check because it was going to be stowed under your bed for safekeeping. 

You changed out of Joel’s hoodie and into an oversized band tee, walking out of your bedroom with a book when your parents returned through the door. 

“Hey, kiddo. You’re still up? ‘t’s past eleven.” 

You try not to roll your eyes, biting down on the inside of your lip as you tightly nodded. “Yeah, I know. I stay up late a lot at school and stuff, working on papers or out with friends. Staying up past eleven isn’t that weird for me.” 

You didn’t mean for there to be so much venom in your comment, but you weren’t a baby. Nearly every day at the lakehouse so far this summer has elicited a few don’t call me kid, I’m an adult, I make adult decisions, comments from you. 

Your parents looked too tired to care, which somehow stung worse. 

“Okay, sweetie, we’ll see you tomorrow morning. Your dad and I are headin’ to bed.” 

Now you felt bad. You pursed your lips and nodded, putting your hands behind your back and resting them on your tailbone absentmindedly. This was the same pose Joel had you in tonight. You already wanted to go back there. 

“Sorry, goodnight.” You whisper, seeing your dad give you a tired smile before patting your shoulder. 

“Hey kiddo-” He paused at the nickname and took a breath. “Sorry.” You playfully smiled and shook your head. Go on.

“Do me a favor, grab the steaks out from the freezer and put them on a plate in the fridge. Wanna have Joel and Sarah over for dinner tomorrow night. Feel like I haven’t seen them all summer.” 

Your face went ghastly blank, feeling yourself fall hollow like a collapsing building. If it weren’t for how tired your dad was, he would have seen right through you like a ghost. “You- Oh, you want to have them come by for dinner? I don’t think tomorrow’s gonna work. Sarah’s camping and-”

“Oh, well, Joel can still swing by for dinner. Need to eat up those steaks. Every time I open the freezer, they stare at me. They’re beggin’ me to eat them, it ain’t fair.” 

You forced out a laugh, but of course, your father couldn’t tell. Just thought he made one hell of a zinger. 

“So-So Joel over for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, kiddo. And don’t forget to take out the steaks. Love you.” He turned the corner down the hall, and then he was gone. 

You sighed and lightly chewed at the skin around your thumbnail. Great. One big happy family dinner. And Joel. 

---

here's my masterlist!

here's how to join my taglist!

@jrrmint @gracieispunk @macfrog @strang3lov3 @notjustjavierpena @bastardmandennis @joelslegalwhre @brittmb115 @casa-boiardi @nostalxgic @cool-iguana @chim-cham-blog @joeldjarin @unsteadyimagines @pattwtf @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @schnitzelwnoodles @flippittygibbitts @turtles-all-the-way-d0wn @cartoon-garbage04 @lunarxeclipse @alltheseperfectimperfections @sunnywithachanceofjavi @kyloispunk @hopplessilse @keeponlivinmanl-i-v-i-n @toxicfics @angelicnotifs @iquitedislikeithere2 @livingdeadmaria @emmalandry @worhols @radsanchez @pedritoferg @lucyeyelesbarrow @airalihmarylu @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @suzmagine @pastawench @crazedquilter-blog @kaitangatatacos @amanitacowboy @loveisacowboyyy @kittytiddywinks @slut-for-bucky-barnes @mendessi @aphterthoughtt @chyannealaniz @pedrotonin @barbieratogabx-blog @chicville03

(idk why so many of my tags aren't working. Might make a notifications blog instead where you'd follow it and turn the notifications on and I'll only reblog my work on that account. ugh a problem for another day, okay ily ttyl I'm gonna go watch twilight)

[yeyinde]

some ideas i'll get to (aka my wips are a revolving door that my sideblog can't keep up with so i'm posting them here so i can hold myself accountable)

hitchhiker au with Simon (the man you ran over and left on the side of the road in a deadly hit and run won't leave you alone; horror)

warden/ward Price (the man who took you in, practically raised you, is getting married. that simply won't do. pseudo father figure, pseudo incest, electra complex; guilt, murder, manipulation, drama, smut)

ward/warden Simon (he wasn't there for you when you needed him the most, but he's here now. he'll make sure your needs are met. all of them; smut, drama)

older neighbour Price (after coming home from college for the summer, you decide to pursue your older neighbour daddy Dom Price in a romance that leaves a bad taste in everyone's mouth; drama, smut)

dad's best friend Price (the joke? you meet a man in a bar. the punchline? he's your dad's friend. a man you grew up with. the unexpected twist? his hand is on your thigh. he still buys you a drink. what are you supposed to do when you've been in love with him since you were sixteen? you go home with him, of course; smut, angst, drama)

best friend's dad Price (armchair psychologists on tiktok could tell you exactly what's wrong with you, you think, as you roll around on his bed, hand shoved down your pants, thinking of him like he wasn't father of your childhood best friend; drama, smut, guilt)

serial killer Price (70s au. he's new in town. strange. but he talks to you, listens. tells you that you're different from the others. but when you start to act just like them, he decides to teach you a lesson in places. specifically, your place beneath him. and if you don't behave, at the end of his knife; horror, thriller; smut)

dog trainer Simon (a vicious dog meets a puppy with abandonment issues. neither see the issue with codependency; smut, toxic relationships)

omegaverse Gaz (after giving Price his happy ending, Kyle decides he deserves one for himself; smut)

dollmaker Simon (all you want is the attention of your god. he just wants her back. so you give that to him; horror, smut)

butcher!Simon (series: mafia "butcher"; you don't question your brother when he sends you to drop off packages to his friends, but when the enforcer for the 141 shows up to teach the little brat selling on their turf a lesson, you realise there's different ways to give away pounds of flesh; slaughterhouse worker Simon just gets out of jail for murder and teaches you how a fielddress a buck. a cute first date if he wasn't holding a knife to your neck; butcher Simon catches a rare fish)

hiking au Soap (they tell you to never hike alone, but when all your friends refuse to go with you, you turn to the internet for help where you meet a man who eagerly agrees to throughhike the Great Divide Trail with you; alone in the wilderness with a man you barely know for eight weeks who seems a little intense. what could possibly go wrong? thriller, smut)

outlaw Price (it's just not in his nature to do anything for free. you should have known that before you asked him, of all people, for help; western, cowboys outlaws and wild west)

priest Price (you find the new pastor drinking whiskey and smoking a cigar by the dock. he finds a gift from god in you: a pretty little wife he gets to pour his faith into; catholicism, religious imagery, bastardisation of religion, smut)

[mossymandibles]

Kraw, Jago and Titus hangin out as teens

Little bit of writing under the cut

The Fungal Nymphs and Hox Strays of Ferryman’s Barrow always appreciated what Mayv’s business did for their town, for protecting their shores from invasive or hostile mermaids and bringing new imports. The more her strange children grew though, the less welcoming the residents seemed. Kraw and Titus were like bear cubs that stopped being cute when everyone began to realize how dangerous they could be roaming around. Fish mongers made less of an attempt to greet them whenever they came to the trading docks with their wares. Everyone seemed to grow very skittish, giving them a wide berth in the streets. They preferred that Mayv accompany them instead, to keep her ‘dogs’ on a leash. Titus and Kraw could always feel the stares when their backs were turned, hear their whispers.

They were used to feeling alienated but Titus could see it affecting Kraw more and more. He would tease Kraw for wanting to fit in, that he was a flat-faced people pleaser, dulling his claws down to seem less threatening and mumbling all the time so his teeth wouldn’t show too much. It honestly pissed Titus off. He wanted his adopted brother to revel in their monstrous forms together, to show the locals they should be respected, just like Lady of the Shades.

Jago seemed different, less frightened and more curious than anything. He would constantly pester the boys when they came to drop off stuff at his father’s business. It caught them off guard frankly. He wasn’t afraid to do things like give Kraw a camaraderie slap on the shoulder and pick at Titus’s mossy back whenever it was flowering to see if there were any tasty insects. He genuinely seemed to enjoy the boy’s company.

It got a little confusing when Jago’s father would call him by a different name; Ilya. It was apparent that Jago was living two separate lives but felt more at home with Mayv, Kraw and Titus.

[flygefisk]

don't have the energy for more than these rn but! remy & lux!

remy (pitbull/snapper, he/him, full name remedy) is a retired gladiator. he fought his way out and was granted enough money to purchase a piece of land far, far away from the city where he was imprisoned. he built a farm on that land, where he grows his favorite fruits & vegetables & raises a small hive of giant bees and a few giant spiders. he only has to interact with others once a week when he sets up at the town's market.

remy is gruff, hard-working, and has absolutely no respect for authority. he's ultimately a pretty sweet guy, gentle & generous- the little old ladies in town adore him.

lux (deer/unicorn hybrid/imperial, he/they?, full name luxury) is a prince in hiding. his mother, the queen, was horrible, both to her country and her family. after her assassination, his family began receiving more frequent and vicious threats from both her allies and enemies (mostly the allies). so his eldest sister decided the heirs would be safer elsewhere. she placed lux with remy for two reasons: one, he's about as far as you can get from the capitol while still in the kingdom, and two, he hated the queen, so he'd have no reason to work with any loyalists who may come sniffing around.

lux acts like a spoiled little party boy (not entirely untrue) to hide his crippling self-loathing. he was a disappointment in every way to his mother, which is something he's quite proud of, but worries the few he respects feel the same. haughty, self-centered, and deeply rebellious- he in fact assisted those responsible for the queen's death.

remy only agreed to take lux in for the generous pay packet and the promise that lux would work to earn his keep. lux was… less than enthused about this arrangement. him, work? in the dirt?? get mud on his clothes?? in his hair???

some fun (?) facts about them:

remy is a trans man. he'd lived as a boy since early childhood, but didn't really choose his name til he escaped the ring- remedy to represent healing and commitment to a peaceful life after so much violence. he escaped at 24, and is 28 when lux arrives.

remy had a rough start. homeless orphan living with a group of small time criminals, then the king died and the queen instituted a crueler guard force and awful punishments. he got arrested one too many times, and the new sentence for repeat offenders was gladiatorial combat. he was seventeen.

remy has 1 (one) tiddy. he'll tell you the story- bitten off by a chimera! or maybe burned away by a dragon. or popped off by a kraken? the real story is honestly just as dramatic- it happened in the ring. an opponent chopped through it, remy made the final slice and dared them to do the other. they did not. they also did not leave that fight alive.

remy is also missing a pinky finger and most of his ears and tail, all taken as punishments by the ring guards. they docked his ears for insinuating he'd fucked a nobleman's wife (he hadn't, but did after that). they took his pinky for saying a visiting duke liked it up the ass (he had, in fact, greatly enjoyed remy's visit). and his tail... was for mooning the queen.

remy raises bees for honey & eggs, and spiders for silk. the bees are large chicken/smallish turkey sized, and the spiders range from large dog to cow sized depending on breed. he also has a mantis who herds the spiders & guards the bees at night. he makes mead with the honey and sells/trades the silk to a weaver in town- she once made him a very very cozy blanket as a thank-you.

lux wasn't really given a chance to be anything but cishet growing up, and little changed as an adult, given the expectations placed on royalty. in the peace of the countryside, he starts questioning that. grows out his hair, tries on skirts. he never really picks a label or even pronouns- any are ok. he's 26 when he arrives at remy's door.

lux's father was the unicorn, his mother the deer. his father died when lux was ~10 (supposedly of heart disease, which is unheard of in unicorns- most now believe the queen poisoned him to become the sole leader). he was a much better ruler than his wife, and the country took a nosedive after she took power. lux misses him very much.

lux looks more like his mother, which he hates- he inherited his father's long tail and silky hair, but only a teeny horn on his forehead. his eldest sister beauty is their father's spitting image, and his older brother treasure inherited his glittering coat. (lux never grew out of his big ol' fawn/foal ears)

lux's mother named all her children things she wanted them to embody (from oldest to youngest: beauty, marvel, treasure, luxury, splendor), not because she wanted them to be happy, but to show them off. she treated them less like children and more like trophies. she was especially proud of lux's antlers, they grew in early and elegant- he chopped them off and they never grew back properly. he still cuts them back every season.

lux does grow to love farm life. he misses some of his home, of course, and goes back every so often once things settle, but he'd rather stay with remy. he loves the bees, and especially loves mulberry, the herding mantis (she's very spoiled for a working bug)

these guys actually started as d&d npcs several years ago- they were a half-orc and a high elf, but otherwise pretty similar. i forget the whole story, but i remember remy crit during a fight and killed an enemy with a carrot lmao

[mr-celestial-writings]

Holiday Reunion

Day 5: Family

Pairing: Stanley Pines x GN! Reader

Summary: The kids are coming back to Gravity Falls for their winter break. Stan is nervous introducing them to you.

Gravity Falls Masterlist!

Celestial's 25 Days of Christmas!

================================================

Stan hurried around the house, his heart pounding. He and Ford were back in town for the Holidays. He had also decided to bring you along. "[Name], have you seen my Fez? I wanna wear it when we see the kiddos again." Stan asked, digging through the boxes. He heard you laugh and come over, before placing something on his head.

"Soos gave it to me a few minutes ago. I think he knew you would be looking for it." You replied.

Stan smiled and looked at you, "Have I told you how much I loved you, Doll?"

"Not nearly enough as you should." You replied, folding you arms.

It was Stan's turn to let out a chuckle, "Fair 'nough. Now come on, the kids will be here soon! You'll love 'em! Mabel will probably like you."

You, Stan, and Ford had met a few months back. He and his brother were docked and restocking when he saw you conning a con man. For Stan, it was love at first sight.

He didn't hesitate in asking you out, he saved the whole getting to know you part for the date. Part of him was glad he did, because he somehow fell even harder when you grabbed his hand and dine and dashed.

He had to beg Ford to let you come with them. Stan would rather have his memory wiped again than let you go! Ford caved, and the duo became a trio. You reacted surprisingly well to the paranormal.

Ford took a while to warm up to you, He didn't hesitate to give you a shovel talk, but when you saved Stan from a Sirin... Yeah you got Ford's approval pretty Damn Quick.

And now, Stan was taking a massive risk in introducing you to Mabel and Dipper. He loved those kids, and he wanted them to approve of you two before you two actually got serious.

"Any Time, Stan. Now Come on, let's go. They'll be here any second." You reminded, getting your Jacket on.

Stan nodded, "Yeah, Yeah. I hear ya. Let's go." Stan Grabbed your hand and began dragging you to the bus stop. His heart was beating hard and fast. He was convinced that he was going to keel over from a heart attack.

You, Stan, and Ford all chatted as you waited for the Kids' bus to arrive. It was about an hour later.

Stan took a deep breath, straightening out his Jacket. Mabel and Dipper stepped off the bus. They were both Grinning widely. Stan had gone into great detail explaining everything about his Great Niece and Nephew.

You could tell Stan really cared about those kids. It warmed your heart.

"Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford!" Mabel called, hurrying over to hug them. A Pig trailed after her. "Grunkle, huh?" You teased. Stan's face warmed up.

Mabel and Dipper looked at you.

"Uh... whose that?" Dipper asked, looking at Stan. You saw Mabel put the dots together fairly quickly. "Oh my Stars! Grunkle Stan you dog!" Mabel called, hurrying over to greet you. "Hi! Hello! I'm Mabel! This Cutie pie is Waddles!" She introduced herself, shaking you hand violently. You laughed gently, seeing Stan let out a sigh of Relief out of the corner of your eye. "Nice to Meet you Mabel and Waddles. I'm [Name], Stan's partner." You said gently. Mabel let out a Squee. Ford laughed, taking the kids and leading them to the Shack. "What was that about her probably liking me?" You teased. Stan rolled his eyes, holding your hand. "Yeah, Well, she wasn't the one I was worried about in the first place."

================================================

a/n: These challenged are all about expanding my writing prowess, and that also means filling out my masterlists so not all of them are as empty as they have been

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 123 (Struggling Through 💕Love Day💕)

Conrad left Rafa at the abandoned shipwreck and made his way to the docks before he called Heather. "Thank the Watcher, you're okay!" she cried when the picture connected. "The precinct said the wifi in Sulani's terrible and to wait until morning, but I couldn't sleep last night."

"I slept a lot longer than I planned," he lamented.

"What do you mean? What happened?"

He smiled. "I ran into some trouble but I'm fine. I'll tell you all about it when I get home but everything's okay. Well, not everything...I found George and his wife in their villa."

"Why did they go silent?"

"The exact reason you'd think. (Especially if you're @changingplumbob and @matchalovertrait!) Now I've got another murder to solve."

Heather sighed. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"It's fine. I'm just at the docks waiting for the jetty to take me to the airport. I sent some evidence home with the bodies and I'll have to meet them on the other side."

"What happens to everything in town that George had his hands in now that he's gone?"

Conrad shrugged. "I guess we're about to find out."

"I'm glad you're okay. You're really all I want for Love Day, you know. Oh! Ash made tissue paper flowers for someone at school. He says he's not sure who he'll give them to, but I think he might have made them for Scotti Holiday. Maybe his teacher."

Conrad laughed. "Is it terrible to say I hope he gives them to his teacher?"

"Mmhmm. I like Summer and Travis, but she's..." Scotti Holiday was a nine-year-old mean girl, but Heather didn't want to speak ill of a kid and changed the subject. "The kids both made cards for you."

"I'm trying to get home before Love Day's over. I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

Heather hung up and found Lavender in the living room playing with Gord and a purple toy. "Drago rawrrrrr!" she cried, letting the winged creature dance on the end of Gord's nose.

The beautiful Bernese barked and played along, happily wagging his tail. Heather smiled. "Are you ready to head to daycare, Lavender?"

"I like home!" she cried, but she never protested too long and rarely threw a tantrum.

Heather helped her toddler into her outerwear as she locked up the house, and three-year-old Lavender glanced at her dog. "Watch house, Go-dee! See lay-doe."

The romantic spirit of Love Day filled the air at the clinic, as unflirty Heather witnessed her vet techs, Kaori and Rico, struggle to hide their new affections. Even while he mopped up after sick pets.

The radio was playing nothing but love songs, and Heather retreated to the bathroom for a moment of peace. Conrad was fine, she reminded herself. He might even make it home before the end of Love Day. But now that George Brindleton was dead, the town he held together might be about to split apart at the seams. She was worried for it.

The restroom's garish wallpaper didn't calm her nerves, and as she grabbed a glass of water she dreamed of the swatches her architect in Evergreen Harbour had sent over through the winter. Spring was coming soon, and then she'd have a clinic remodel to worry about, too.

While Heather stressed her way through Love Day, Ash left school on Deadgrass Isle. He was full of chocolates handed out by his teacher and feeling energetic, jumping down the steps two at a time. He'd held on to his tissue paper flowers all day, unsure who to give them to until the end of school bell.

Heading toward the docks, he noticed an old man sitting alone on a bench overlooking the wild waves of the sea. Ash had seen him before, but he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers.

They made eye contact, and the old man looked surprised when Ash threw up his hand in a wave. He seemed like a nice enough man to talk to, and Deadgrass Isle was crowded with people at this time of day.

His friends, Arron Kalani and Scotti Holiday, headed toward the ferry to the mainland. "Ash, are you coming?"

"I'll take the next boat, I'm okay!" he said. "That old man looks lonely over there."

Scotti looked behind him in confusion. "What old man? You're kinda strange sometimes, Ash Landgraab."

Undeterred, Ash walked the path to say hello, dragging a heavy backpack full of books for extra credit behind him. Maybe the old man was the right person to give his paper flowers.

"Hello, sir. Are you alone out here?" Ash set down his bag, which immediately started to pick up big crystals of snow from the isle's notoriously heavy snowfall.

Ben looked at the child, startled and uncomfortable. He'd never been good around children, and his years as a ghost on an island populated with a school hadn't changed anything.

"Y-you can see me?" ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

WCIF: Main image created with Canva's free Vintage Blank Notes Instagram Story template. Something a little bit different to mark the holiday but also their distance apart. It also pays tribute to Ash's paper flowers which I wasn't sure how to recreate in game (they're from a pop up which dictated this scene and the next episode!)

When Valentine's Day rolls around, or before then, I'll make it up to Conther for having to deal with murder investigations for my plot instead of having a nice lil' Love Day together. Maybe we'll even get another event I can play with!

[ultimateissuessimp]

Ohhhh can you write cat king x dog king please? like enemies to lovers so cute I think! feel free to decline obv

Oooh you guys have no idea how much I adore writing for the Cat King 🥹 If the word count doesn't express that, I don't know what could. Thank you for this amazing request, I had a field day with it 🙏

Also HAPPY PRIDE MONTH Y'ALL! 🏳️‍🌈❤️

Fleabag and a Dirty Mutt

The Cat King x Dog King!Male Reader

Word count: 2,759

Warnings: Mention of a character dying (Don't worry, he's alive 🙌), animal cruelty (does that count-?), violence, suggestive language (Nothing happens tho 😔), can this be passed off as hurt/comfort? I don't know, really

When people talk about the stereotype of dogs and cats being mortal enemies, they're not that far away from the truth. They may bit be exactly mortal enemies, but the hate and deep rooted dislike is there. There are instances when dogs and cats live in harmony, but not these two. The monarchs. The royalty. The Dog King and the Cat King. Both too stubborn to change places where they rule, one at the docks, the other keeping closer to the woods, trying to stay as far away from the other as possible.

They had so many run ins with each other that it was a miracle they hadn't tried to kill one another yet. It surely felt like they were close to it though, especially from a point of view of an outsider. Those outsiders being two certain ghosts alongside a quite powerful medium visiting Port Townsend that started causing a little ruckus. Naturally the Cat King at first didn't care even though he was aware of them, of course until one of them used magic on one of his cats. Then he started closely observing them. While the Dog King, being the, well, being that he was, couldn't help but grow interested the moment he caught their very interesting scent, unlike any other ghost's or person in the town and the number was quite big. From the beginning he carefully observed them, before revealing himself when the, now group, clearly needed his help.

From that moment on they began something akin to a business partnership. They get rid of the damned witch that was only causing troubles for him while he protects them and helps them however he can, either his strength, wisdom or resourcefulness. They worked together, both sides diligently fulfilling their side of the agreement and everything was going really well until that new boy appeared. When he first sniffed the air while the new guy was around, his nose immediately scrunched up in displeasure. He reeked with magic, but he couldn't quite place it why or where was it coming from. Then he started talking about astrology and everything else with Edwin and Y/N's demeanor, while still cautious and distrusting, changed from an on guard one to a more relaxed stance. He thought that that was probably where the stench was coming from. The boy was either practising witchcraft or had it deeply rooted within him which was slowly waking up. He was wrong though, big time.

Then was also Thomas. That fucking fleabag that was a constant pain in his ass. He wanted to just rip his throat out with his teeth over and over again until the being was out of lives, but at the same time he felt like he would probably, ironically, miss the damn cat. That didn't change the fact that he was absolutely getting in his nerves whenever he could. This was one of those moments, the two accidentally bumping into each other at the viewing spot that the Cat King visited previously to talk with, and slightly torment, Edwin.

The large fawn and tan coated Doberman trudged up the stairs, from time to time looking up to the starry night sky to see if any star was shining much brighter than the rest and letting out a quiet, pleased sound when he found one. It was a little something to pass the time, especially when he was on a walk like this one.

When he finally got to the top and took a whiff of the air around, wanting to feel the freshness of the air coming from the water, but instead he could smell a very distinguishable scent of a certain fleabag. He immediately snarled when his eyes finally found the orange cat sitting on the stone ledge. He got an angry hiss in response and a swat of a paw, hitting the air, not even close to the dog. Y/N swiftly turned into his human form, an orange swirl forming around him before quickly disappearing when he stood on two feet instead of two pairs of paws, Thomas doing the same, the cat dissappearing in a purple flame, letting the human form take his place.

-What the fuck are you doing here, you damn mutt? - the Cat King asked, clearly annoyed as he looked at the Dog King with an disinterested look.

-I could ask you the same thing, fleabag. Don't you think you're treading a bit too close to my territory? - Y/N fired back, slightly baring his teeth before crossing his arms over his chest and walking over to the stone ledge, looking out into the view despite it being quite dark.

-Oh don't flatter yourself, I simply felt like having a bit of peace away from everyone and everything. This place seemed ideal, but now that you're here everything is ruined - Thomas answered with sass, he couldn't help the eyeroll that followed his statement as he stayed on his spot on the ledge, sitting on it with his legs crossed, one on the other, arms keeping him up behind him.

-Hm, sweet as always I see? Can your mouth do anything other than talk a load of shit? - Y/N asked another question, his eyes going to the Cat King without turning his head, a clearly unamused look on his face.

-It can also take loads, but you will never get to experience that, so why bother? - the man fired back with a smug smirk tugging at his lips, his canines showing off as the smirk grew into a satisfied grin at the Dog King's reaction that only spoke of disgust.

-As if I'd ever even let your face get anywhere near me that isn't at least six feet of distance - the Dog King said, distaste in his mouth at the simple thought of such a scenario.

That night went by in snarky comments and teasing before finally one of them decided they had enough of the company and went back to their kingdom. That was a few days ago, after that more pressing matters appeared that had the Dog King speeding to the forest in his Doberman form, picking up speed with each small sounds he was hearing in the distance. He knew those kids would get into some serious shit, but the fact they had a spy between them? A spy that worked for someone that wanted to kill them without any remorse? That was beyond trouble.

He was slightly late to the party, Monty already being exposed by the Cat King at whose sight Y/N rolled his eyes, before he reminded himself why he was there. He needed to help the kids, even though if that meant going against Esther and the agreement they made a long time ago.

He changed into his human form at the moment when Thomas was telling Edwin that the second kiss was always better before pressing his lips to Monty's for a brief moment. Y/N stared in surprise, as if frozen in his spot a few feet behind Edwin. A weird feeling started to appear in his chest, tugging as if someone smashed their hand into his chest, wrapped it around his heart and started squeezing. He winced in displeasure, before becoming mortified at the realisation that what he felt was jealousy. He was jealous of Monty.

He quickly shook his head before finally coming into the light, facial expression serious as he looked at Monty, trying not to let it slip how he felt not too long ago. There were more pressing matters to tend to than his silly feelings. He could take care of them later on when there wasn't a second death threat looming over the two ghosts and a first one for the two girls with them.

-I think it's time for you to go, Thomas. You've said what you wanted to say, if you have no intention of helping further on, just go bother someone fucking else - Y/N said, a little growl behind his words as he remained an eye contact with the Cat King while speaking, his nose scrunching slightly.

-Whatever. I'm out. Have fun, mutty - Thomas said, rolling his eyes before disappearing in purple flames, taking the source of light with himself.

Y/N looked at Edwin and then Monty carefully, assessing if there would be any action necessary like protecting the ghost from the crow or any other threat that Esther might have coming for them. When he didn't see or feel anything wrong in particular, he relaxed just a tiny bit, still on high alert for any danger while Edwin went at it, spewing out how betrayed he felt because of Monty.

When they were done there and reunited with the rest of the group, took care of the massive mushroom that tried to suck them into itself and be ultimately their demise alongside Esther, seemingly getting rid of her by sending her into a different dimension with the mushroom, only then could they let out a breath of relief while resting in Niko's apartment room. After some time Y/N decides that it's time to go back to his territory, letting the group properly rest after a night full of, well, bullshit. That was also his excuse to think about his feelings towards the Cat King. After just a minute of thinking he realized he was fucked. Utterly and royally fucked.

It was not that long after, a day or two maybe, when Y/N felt something was wrong. His mind was running a thousand thoughts per second while he felt squeamish and uneasy. Finally one thought became the beacon amidst the sea of them. The Cat King. Something was terribly wrong and it made him worried. That's why he turned into his dog form and sped towards the dogs, being careful enough with the cats he was passing, but also not letting them stop him in any way, growling at some that tried pouncing on him.

When he finally got to the docks and basically slammed through the warehouse doors, uncaring about the damage, he felt a sense of dread fill his body when he saw the last hit that a very pissed and determined Esther delivered to the Cat King's body, easily taking away his third life with her cane. He knew the man still have quite a few lives left, but it still mad him enraged with the witch, that damned fucking witch that was an ever bigger pain in his ass than the Cat King that was currently trying to get used to his new life and changing into his human form.

Before Thomas could even get a word out, Y/N let out a loud growl and a warning bark before launching full speed at Esther, leaping over the Cat King who slightly covered when he heard Y/N approach quickly. He landed right on her, making her slam down onto the ground while his full weight rested on her. He bit harshly into her upper arm before standing up and trashing his head around, tugging on it, causing some damage to her body, her head hitting concrete already making her slightly dizzy. When she got the chance to free herself, she shouted in frustration and anger, clutching her arm tightly to her chest before landing one strong blow with her cane to the Dog King's head. While she put some space between them, he changed into his human form, a clear sign of damage she made also visible on his temple that was bleeding down the side of his face. Yet he still stood there seemingly unfazed, shielding Thomas with his own body, standing in Esther's way if she happened to get another surge of violance out of herself.

And then of course when he got out of his initial shock, the Cat King had to start shouting about Esther making his lose his third life and blabber out the fact that Edwin had been through Hell, literally and metaphorically, clearly giving Esther an idea, judging by the look on her face. He simply couldn't shut the fuck up when he should.

When the witch left, Y/N turned towards the Cat King, assessing his new look, his heart skipping a beat once or twice. While he didn't like the circumstances of the change, he really didn't mind the new aesthetic. It suited him. Anything suited him right ally, but the black looked especially... Nice.

While Y/N was taking the view in front of him in, the Cat King started ranting about how stupid he was for even risking his own life like that, taking a couple steps towards the Dog King and taking his face firmly, yet carefully into his hands, turning it to the sides however he seemed fit, checking for any other damages than the most obvious one on his temple. When he didn't see other wounds, he sighed before tugging the sleeve of his coat more onto his hand, trapping the material with his fingers to his palm to keep it covered and bringing it up to Y/N's temple, gently cleaning it off of blood.

-Why the fuck would you do that? Have you gone completely insane, you dirty mutt? - Thomas huffed out in concerned annoyance, wiping away at the side of the Dog King's face, being careful not to irritate the wound further on.

-Long time ago, kitty. I felt that something was wrong and I just couldn't ignore it. You were in trouble and you expected me to just stay away? Really? For how long have we known each other that you still think such bullshit? - Y/N replied, raising one eyebrow at Thomas while his half lidded eyes slowly traveled all across the man's face, the Cat King clearly not noticing his stare since he was too engrossed in patching the Dog King up, even whipping a small cat themed bandaid out of thin air and placing it on the wound.

-Yes, clearly. If you were in trouble and I knew, I wouldn't give two shits, honestly. One annoying mutt less and did you just call me "kitty"? The fuck? She really smacked you hard, damn - the Cat King said, shaking his head and huffing out in an annoyed way, yet the concern written all over his face spoke of something else and so did the barely there blush that appeared when his brain finally processed what Y/N had called him, his heart doing a little flip.

-Mhmm... For sure - Y/N replied shortly and simply, a small cheeky smirk pulling at the left corner of his lips, his eyes still roaming all over the man's face before finally settling on his eyes, the Cat King's own dilated ones staring right back into his.

They both continued looking into each other's eyes, before Y/N finally had enough and leaned in after cupping Thomas' face in his hands gently. His chapped lips pressed sweetly, yet a bit needily into the Cat King's own soft ones. Needy to feel that everything was okay. That Thomas was okay. That he himself was okay. That they were and will be okay. The Cat King responded rapidly by wrapping his arms around the other man's neck tightly, keeping his close. They only pulled away when breathing comfortably started to be a struggle, chests heaving as they breathed deeply, forehead pressed tightly together.

-Don't... Don't ever do that again. Don't try to save my life or one of them when your own gets compromised because of it - Thomas whispered out, his eyes closing and scrunching slightly as an image of badly wounded Dog King entered his mind, but he quickly shoo'ed it away. He swallowed hard before opening his eyes once again just to be met with a big grin on Y/N's face.

-Can't promise that, kitty. Especially not when I know that now you're an unlucky black cat - the Dog King fired back teasingly with a chuckle, his nose rubbing softly against the man's in his arms that were now comfortably resting, wrapped around Thomas' waist.

-Oh fuck you - he got as a reply, a chuckle of his own leaving the Cat King moments before he was the one to initiate another kiss. That one softer, filled with gratefulness and something else entirely. Something as sweet as a cherry blossom tea with a plate filled with chocolate chip cookies.

-If you wish, sure - Y/N said into the kiss, both of them unable to contain the smile that were gracing their faces as they kept close to one another. All they had to do now was simply revel in this new feeling and let it grow like a bush of roses.

[hailtothepumpkinqueen]

(This is probably the longest thing I've ever written, around 4.5k words, but it wouldn't leave my head til I made it real lol

From Shane's perspective. No one had seen the farmer all day, and he's the only one who goes to check on her. Lot of talking over drinks ensues.)

Everybody Talks

Gossip was nothing new for Shane. In a small community like Pelican Town, gossip was the lifeblood and social currency that kept it running. No "secret" was ever truly secret, everyone knew everyone else's dirty laundry. It was the number one pastime and practically a professional sport here. He himself knew far more than he ever cared to learn from his spot in the Saloon(and been the topic of discussion more times than he could count), but he at least had the good sense to drink his beer and keep his mouth shut.

And, on a Friday night like tonight, the not at all subtle gossip sessions were in full swing. Seemingly everyone clucking like excited hens about one topic in particular: the farmer.

Now, she wasn't a new topic of conversation either. The whole damn Valley was a-buzz about her before she even stepped off the bus, hungry for fresh meat. Hungry for new secrets to uncover and info to share. Speculating and predicting what kind of person she'd be purely based on their own biases. Not that he had been much better. Constantly hearing about her had soured his opinion before he even knew her name. Like hearing a harmless song on the radio so many times you'd grown to hate it. But, again, he at least kept his opinions to himself. Mostly. Not his fault his face gave away what he was thinking.

The specific reason why everyone was talking about her, however, pricked his ears up.

No one had seen her at all today. She hadn't come to Pierre's shop, she hadn't picked up one of her tools from Clint, and she was clearly absent from the Saloon on a Friday. No one could recall speaking to her and the requests on the bulletin board had gone ignored. It was as if she had just vanished into thin air.

But, in all the theories he heard bouncing around, he never once heard someone admit to going to her house to check on her. Fucking typical. Feign concern and then expect someone else to actually do something about it. Yoba forbid she was hurt or something..

The thought made his stomach churn and his chest tighten suddenly. Normally, someone dropping off the face of the earth wouldn't bother him. Maybe she just wanted to be left alone for once, that was her business. But, after their talk on the dock, knowing she was struggling, he couldn't help the nagging worry chewing on his insides.

Ah, fuck it. He wasn't gonna be able to enjoy his drink with his stomach in knots like this. Might as well be the one to at least make sure she was alive. Just get eyes on her and then back to the Saloon for a well deserved cold one. Easy peasy.

He found himself walking very quickly towards the farmhouse, shivering at more than just the chill of a particularly cold Fall wind as his brain swirled with worst case scenarios. Images conjured up by a mind that consumed horror movies on a regular basis and knowing the kind of damage farm equipment could cause. A new grisly mental picture cropping up every time he shook the previous one away. Blood and guts and exposed bone and lifeless eyes and--

The sharp sound of a dog barking ripped him from his gorey thoughts, making him freeze in place. The big ass german shepard he forgot she had was staring at him suspiciously, barking again as if to say "state your business!"

"Heeey, boy. Easy. I'm just here to check on your...master? Nope, that sounds gross. Owner? Uh, person?" He held a hand out for the dog to sniff, speaking softly and calmly. Hoping if he appeared chill he'd get to keep his appendage intact.

The dog, seemingly satisfied with that, licked his hand and looked back towards the wooded area of the property. Where Shane could hear, right on cue, the sound of approaching footsteps and see the light of a lamp growing brighter as it got closer.

Out of the treeline stepped the farmer, her dark hair pulled up in a bun for the first time he could remember seeing. It made her look taller somehow, maybe because her neck looked longer this way. Like a swan. She had an axe slung over her shoulder and presumably firewood under the other arm, the light he thought was from a lamp emanating from a ring on her pointer finger.

"Miller?" He called, more out of shock than anything. Inwardly relieved that she was okay and feeling dumb for worrying so much.

Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw him before her face settled into an uncharacteristic scowl, setting the axe down with a muffled thump as it hit the dirt.

"Cooper." She replied coolly, breezing past him towards the house. Putting the firewood in its cubby and pointedly not looking at him. "Did Marnie send you? She'll get her vegetables first thing tomorrow, tell her to just be patient."

"Wh...no? My aunt didn't send me, I'm not her errand boy." He huffed, offput by the assumption and her weirdly icy demeanor. Yeesh, was this what it was like to be on the receiving end of his prickly attitude?

"Little late to be checking on the chickens, then. They're asleep by now. But the coop's over there if you wanna wake them up and say 'hi'." Nodding her head towards said coop and still not looking at him, throwing off her work gloves on the porch.

"I'm not here for that either. I--hey!" He reached out to grab her wrist as she moved to walk past him again. "Would you just stop a second? I came to see you, okay?"

She tensed up but didn't try to pull away from him. And, now that he was close, he could see her eyes were puffy and red, and her lip was quivering. She'd been crying again...

"You came all the way out here just to see me? Yeah, right." She gave a bitter sounding laugh and shook her head in disbelief, her voice cracking.

"It's true!" He insisted, leaning to try and look her in the eye. "The whole town's in a tizzy because no one had heard from you today. And I was..."

"Were you worried about me, Cooper?" She arched an eyebrow brow at him, the barest hint of an amused smirk turning up a corner of her mouth.

"I mean...a little? Maybe. If you wanna call it that." He felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, releasing her wrist and stepping away. Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. "Just wanted to make sure you weren't stuck in a well or somethin'."

She blew air out of her nose, and the smile became a little more pronounced, some of the tension visibly leaving her shoulders.

"Nothing so dramatic, I'm afraid. Just...ugh. It's so stupid..." She frowned again and looked away from him, putting her hands on her hips.

"Try me. I bet I've heard stupider."

She sighed heavily, sitting on the top step of the porch and digging a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket. Holding it out to him to take. Which he did, carefully, smoothing it out to make sense of the scribbles he could see written on it.

It was a letter from her dad. Short and sweet, hardly anything worth getting upset over from what he could tell. Though a line about the dad retiring to the Fern Islands using her hard earned money admittedly rubbed him the wrong way.

"Uh...?" He didn't know what to say, handing the paper back to her with a quizzical expression. She sighed again.

"I have been begging him to come see the farm, to come see me, for weeks. But Kaiden has peewee gridball practice or JJ has a band recital or Debbie needed another couples' getaway, so it's always 'next time, next time, next time.' Good to know he's sooo impressed with my progress and expects me to pay for his retirement, though, I guess. Thanks a fucking lot, dad."

She crumpled the letter up again and chucked it into the dark with an angry grunt, letting out a laugh when the dog ran after it and gleefully ripped it to shreds.

"You call your mom by her first name?" He cringed as soon as the question left his mouth. Really, Shane? She's upset and that's what you focus on? Fuck's sake.

"What?" She gave him a bewildered look. "No. No, Debbie's my stepmom. Her and dad's kids are my half-brothers."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"...I'm still waiting to hear the stupid part." He said gently, daring to sit on the step next to her and putting them in close proximity again. And again she didn't flinch away from him, just scoot over a little to give him room.

"It's stupid to get my feelings hurt over a pattern of behavior I'm well aware of. I thought that, maybe, he'd be more interested in this place since Grandpa Miller was his dad and all. But nah. His new family is still the center of his universe and I'm only a blip on the radar when it's convenient." She shrugged like it didn't bother her, but he could see the way her jaw clenched and hear the way her voice wobbled. This was some deep rooted hurt. "Sorry. This is why I was a hermit today. No one wants to hear me whinge like an angsty teen because 'daddy doesn't love me'."

"You kidding? The old biddies back in town would kill to hear this kind of juicy family drama." He teased, pleased with himself when she laughed. Once again using humor to deal with the tough shit.

"Guess you'll have a good story to tell them then. Congrats." She grinned back at him, rolling her eyes good naturedly.

"Oh, yeah. You know me, biggest blabbermouth in Pelican Town. All your secrets traded away for the low, low price of cheap beer and spicy bar pretzels~."

She laughed again, throwing her head back and leaning against him for support. For some reason, the little gesture made his chest feel tight again, but in a good way? Weird.

"Well, I don't have spicy pretzels, but can I pay you in beer not to go blabbing my dumb family bullshit to everyone?" She waggled her eyebrows at him and smirked, whispering like they were making some kind of shady deal. He couldn't help but laugh at the silliness of it all.

"You drive a hard bargain, but I think I can agree to those terms." He held out his hand for her to shake, mirroring her smirk. She took his hand without hesitation and giggled, giving it a firm shake before using him as leverage to push herself to standing. Quickly disappearing into the farmhouse and leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He should leave. He had only wanted to make sure she was okay and head back. She was okay, physically anyway, just wanted to be left alone. He should leave. But she was offering him free beer...and honestly he preferred her company over everyone probably still gossiping about her in the Saloon. But did she want him to stay? Why would she? Half of the damn town was in love with her, all of them so much better than him, surely she'd prefer to be with anyone else than a miserable asshole. He should leave..

An amber colored glass bottle suddenly entering his line of sight startled him back to reality, blinking and looking up to where it had come from. She had returned without him realizing, holding out what he assumed was the beer she had promised while leaning over him. She'd let her hair down again, dark locks flowing over her shoulder in a curtain. The porch light illuminating her from behind like a halo, and she was smiling. At him. Seemingly content with their close proximity to each other. It honestly made his breath catch in his throat, and again he didn't understand why his body was acting this way.

"You good there, bud?" She chuckled, surely realizing he was gawking at her at the same moment he did. Mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a dying fish as he took the bottle from her.

"Uh. Yeah. Just spaced out a minute. Sorry." He cleared his throat awkwardly, grateful that the beer was already open so he could take a swig to distract himself. Surprised when it tasted much better than the cheap swill JojaMart was selling, and even more surprised when he went to check the label, only to see there wasn't one. "Where did you get this? I don't recognize the, uh, lack of brand."

"Oh. Um, I made it." She said shyly, sitting next to him on the step and looking into her own bottle. "Sorry, I brewed it. I think that's the right term."

He blinked. "What?"

"I brewed it." She repeated, her voice even quieter. "Turns out Grandpa Miller had a little brewery in the cellar, including actually really detailed instructions on how to, y'know, brew stuff. Beer, ale, wine, mead, et cetera. So, I figured I'd give it a shot. And when...if my dad came to visit, we could celebrate the farm's success with a few beers made from wheat from the farm. But, you already know how that story ends.."

He could feel himself doing a dying fish impression again, trying to process what she had told him. This woman went out of her way to learn how to brew her own beer for her dad, who has clearly never made his daughter a priority a day in her life. Beer that he was now drinking because she was gracious enough to share. Gracious enough to tell him all this to begin with.

"Miller, you're incredible." The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them, soft and earnest.

She spluttered and giggled at the sudden praise, seemingly torn between hiding behind her hair and tucking it behind her ear, pale face very noticeably turning red. It was cute, she was cute. How had he not noticed that before?

"Shut up. You're just saying that 'cause I'm bribing you with beer." She pushed at him playfully, still frazzled by his compliment. He made a mock offended gasp and pushed her back, hiding a grin behind taking another swig of beer.

"I'm serious." He assured her. "And if your dad doesn't realize that, he's a brain dead moron."

Her expression softened at that, eyes suddenly shiny with what looked like unshed tears. A watery little laugh escaping her before she took a drink of her own beer.

"I...thank you, Shane." She said quietly, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her hand. "And thank you for checking on me. Sorry I was so snippy with you before."

He scoffed and gave her a mildly bemused look. "Really? After all the times I've been a dick to you? 'Bout time you threw some it back at me honestly."

"I know, I know. I just...I'm not used to people remembering I exist unless they want something from me, I guess. No one ever just wants me, no one cares about just me. So, when I saw you I made an assumption, and I was wrong. So, I'm sorry." Her posture sunk and she curled into herself a little, fingernails tapping against the glass bottle.

Well, fuck. No wonder she always seemed so eager to help out everyone in town, including him. She didn't think she existed unless she was being useful. The idea of that broke his heart, which he didn't think was still possible.

"How many beers do I owe you not to tell anyone that?" She piped up again before he could respond, looking to him with a weak little smile. Obviously taking a page from his playbook and joking to lighten the mood. He chuckled softly, pretending to mull over a decision while tapping his chin.

"How many you got?" He eventually grinned, holding up his almost empty bottle.

They ended up drinking through her entire stash, sitting on the porch and talking for what must have been hours about...well, about a lot of things. She told him more about her dad, who never really tried to bond with her because she was a girl, and he couldn't figure out how to "relate" to a daughter. About her controlling mother, who cut contact with her when she quit her secure job to move to the uncertainty of Pelican Town. Clearly waiting for her to fail and come crawling back to the mom's "good graces". He, in turn, told her he hasn't spoken to either of his parents since he moved out almost two decades ago and was all the better for it. Not that he had much of a relationship with either of them to begin with. Toasting to the hope they didn't turn out like their parents.

She told him that before she was a data entry clerk for Joja, she was on track to becoming a professional ballerina. Until her achilles tendon snapped in the middle of a recital, effectively killing her mother's dream to live vicariously through her. So he told her of his varsity gridball days, how his dream of going pro was crushed when he tore his ACL during practice. She showed him the scar running up her heel, he showed her the scar running down his knee, and they laughed at an alternate universe where they'd be retiring from their lucrative professions by now. Toasting to knowing when it was going to rain before the weatherman because of joint pain.

They talked about music, about movies, about tattoos, about their animals, about anything they could think of until eventually petering out into a comfortable silence. One she broke after a long moment with a soft laugh.

"What?" He glanced at her curiously.

"Nothing. It's just...you're really easy to talk to when you're not being a complete asshole." She grinned, tongue poking out between her teeth to show she was teasing. He laughed, shoving at her playfully and pulling her back when he almost pushed her off the step by mistake.

"Well, you're really easy to talk to when you're not being the town kiss ass." He countered with an equally playful smirk, earning a laugh from her in return.

"Okay, fair. I deserve that."

She was still giggling as she polished off her drink, swaying a little where she sat and clearly intoxicated at this point, much to his amusement. Before she suddenly leaned into his space, close enough he could feel her warm breath fan across his skin. His own breath seeming to get caught somewhere in his sternum, body frozen in place.

"Did you know...when you smile, it's like your eyes light up and I can see how green they are. I never noticed before, but it's real obvious when we're close like this. S'pretty shade of green, too.." She relayed this to him in a hushed tone, almost in awe of this "revelation". He felt his stomach do a somersault and a blush creep across his face and neck like a wildfire. He and the word "pretty" had never been used in the same sentence, especially not from the mouth of someone like her. He didn't know how to deal with it.

"Oh Yoba, you are drunk. I think it's time to cut you off for the night." He huffed out an awkward laugh, scrambling to his feet and almost tripping over himself in the process. Brain screaming at him to run away again. Coward. Feeling like an absolute jerk when her expression fell into a panicked one.

"Oh. Oh shit, I'm sorry. That was weird, huh? I'm so sorry, I just said that without thinking. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Fuck. I'm sorry." The words tumbling out so fast they almost blurred together, desperate to apologize for the perceived slight.

"Hey, hey. Relax. It's not you, alright? Me and compliments just don't mix. S'not your fault, okay? Promise." Using the same gentle tone he would when Jas needed comfort after a bad dream, one meant to soothe fears.

Thankfully, she did relax a little, the worried crease in her brow smoothing out. Looking between him and the house a moment before sighing.

"We probably should call it a night, though.." she frowned, almost sounding disappointed. But that was almost certainly just wishful thinking on his part. "It's getting late, I didn't mean to keep you so long. I know Fridays at the Stardrop are a town tradition, and I'm sure Emily's wondering where you went."

"Aaah, she's so busy tending to everyone else, she probably didn't notice I slipped out. Besides..." He rubbed the back of his neck and kicked at a pebble in the dirt, feeling a bit bashful all the sudden. "I had a good time talking and drinking with you."

Her face lit up at that, practically beaming at him before looking away again. Actually twirling her hair around her finger like girls do in the movies, but it was endearing when she did it somehow. "Yeah? Me, too. This was nice. Definitely made a shitty day a lot better."

That shouldn't have made him as happy as it did, but he couldn't deny the warmth spreading through his chest at the idea that he had made her day better just by being there. Her happiness was infectious, he supposed. No other reason for it.

The good feeling was quickly snuffed by the realization of how far he was going to have to walk to get home. All the way back into town, down past the Saloon, past Emily's house, past Sam's house down the path that finally lead to Aunt Marnie's house. Buh.

"You know you can just cut through my farm, right? It's much faster." She piped up again, startling him. Was she a mind reader?? Or was he talking out loud without realizing?

"Oh. Uh. You sure? If my aunt sees me, she'll know I was here and probably tell her whole aerobics class." Already cringing at what stories could be spun up by a bunch of women with nothing better to do than speculate on someone's (nonexistent) love life. She deserved better than to have her reputation hitched to someone like him.

"Eh, let 'em talk. They're gonna do it anyway." She shooed the idea away dismissively, getting to her feet with a groan and meeting him where he stood. "Here. Gimme your hand."

He complied, confused, watching her take off the glowing ring she was wearing and easily slip it onto his middle finger. Feeling heat prickle up the back of his neck as she continued to hold his hand and meet his eyes with a little smile.

"It's pretty dark that way. Wouldn't want you getting hurt tripping over something. Or have you fall in a well." Her tone light and teasing, using something he had said earlier back at him. Seemingly unaware of the affect she was having on him as she absentmindedly stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. He swallowed thickly, mouth suddenly dry, carefully (reluctantly) removing his hand from hers to focus on the ring giving off an absurd amount of light for being so small.

"Don't you...don't you need this, though?" He asked hoarsely, scarcely able to hear himself over his heart doing acrobatics in his chest.

"Well, I'm going to see you tomorrow, aren't I?" She arched an eyebrow at him, an amused smirk gracing her lips.

"Are you?" Had they made plans and he'd already forgotten? Focus! Stop staring at her mouth!

"Unless you suddenly don't live with Marnie anymore. I already told you I owe her some vegetables, and I was gonna drop them off first thing in the morning. Figured I'd get the ring back from you then."

Ah. Of course. She was being "helpful", and he just happened to live where she already had plans of going. It wasn't like she was going out of her way just to see him. That would be ridiculous.

"Right. Yeah, for sure. Guess I'll see you later then." He mumbled, flexing his fingers as if to shake off the lingering feeling of her hand on his. It didn't help.

"Or I can just walk you home?" She offered, tilting her head at him. "Save you the trouble of worrying about if I need the ring or not."

"And have you walk your drunk ass all the way back by yourself? Nuh uh. Don't worry about it. You gotta come by the house anyway, I'll see you tomorrow."

He gave a little nod and turned to leave, only to be stopped by her grabbing the elbow of his jacket sleeve. Swiveling around to glance over his shoulder and give her a quizzical look. She was chewing on her lower lip, eyes downcast but still holding onto his sleeve. And maybe it was just a trick of the light, but he could swear her face was flushed again.

"I wanted to...I wanted to thank you again for tonight." She said softly, the barest hint of a wobble in her voice. Releasing his jacket to tuck her hair behind her ear again. "I really did have a good time. And, um, and couldn't let you leave without saying 'good night'. So, good night, Shane."

"Good night, Katherine." He breathed out a quiet laugh, warmth spreading through his chest again. Putting his hands in his pockets (which didn't muffle the ring's light at all somehow) and beginning the much shorter trek home for real this time, smiling to himself as he walked past a patch of fairy roses growing. He'd have to tell Jas about that, and about the fact "Miss Kat" used to be a ballerina when she was Jas's age.

He could feel himself walking briskly, finding he suddenly didn't care if Aunt Marnie caught him walking from the direction of the old farmhouse. So what if she told people? Would it be the worst thing in the world if people assumed something happened? Not really. And, if he thought about it, he almost wanted to get caught. Wanted people to know everyone's favorite farmer spent time with him. Alone.

Huh.

That...that was an interesting feeling. One he did not have the mental bandwidth to deal with tonight. That was a problem for tomorrow Shane. Or next week Shane.

Or never. Never was preferable. He was too old to be feeling...whatever the hell this was. And it didn't matter anyway. They had just talked, that was all it was.

That was all it'd ever be.