#havin thoughts and feelins tonight

[becertainlust]

BIRTHDAY SUIT | Bakugo Katsuki

synopsis: Bakugo never made a big deal about birthdays—just another day in his book. But you're not letting this one slide. As his partner, you know better than anyone that under that explosive exterior lies a man who deserves to be worshipped. And tonight, that’s exactly what you plan to do. Dressed in nothing but a gift-wrapped surprise, you give him a present no one else ever could—you.

content: smut, shameless smut, established relationship, lingerie sex, birthday sex, reader takes the reins, blowjob, sloppy, cowgirl , orgasm,

Bakugo never cared about birthdays. For once, he'd let you celebrate him.

No grumbles, no sarcastic muttering under his breath about “dumb-ass traditions” or “waste of time.” No disappearing off to train. No flinching when his friends shouted “Happy Birthday, Katsuki!”

He actually stayed. Enjoyed it.

The apartment had been buzzing earlier with close friends, laughter, drinks, and too many snacks. But now, it was just you and him. The glow of warm lights filled the room, soft music playing low from the speaker. The scent of buttercream and spiced candles lingered in the air.

“Sit,” you said, nudging him down onto the couch.

He dropped onto it with a tired, satisfied huff, one arm slung over the backrest as he watched you crouch beside the small stack of gifts left on the coffee table.

“Ya didn’t have to do all this, y’know,” he muttered. “Just havin’ you around is—”

“Shut up,” you smirked, passing him the first box. “You can get sappy after we’re done with presents.”

He rolled his eyes, but the blush on his ears gave him away.

One by one, he opened them. A couple of gag gifts from Kaminari, a surprisingly thoughtful book from Todoroki, custom gloves from Kirishima. A shirt from you he’d side-eyed in a store window a few weeks ago but pretended not to like. He’d mumbled, “Not bad,” when he saw it then—but the way he smiled when he saw it again tonight? That soft, flickering look in his eyes?

Yeah. He remembered.

But the last gift made him still.

He turned the box in his hand like he didn’t quite recognize it, even though you knew he did. You watched his fingers move slower—more careful. He lifted the lid and saw it:

A first edition, limited-run All Might training journal.

Something he’d mentioned in passing once during a midnight walk months ago. Something he said he always wanted but could never find. He stared at it in silence, thumb brushing over the embossed edges.

“…You remembered that?” he asked, voice suddenly quieter. His eyes lifted to yours.

You smiled gently. “Of course I did.”

Bakugo swallowed hard, cheeks warming up in a way that had your heart blooming in your chest. “You’re insane,” he muttered. “You know that?”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “A little.”

He blinked hard, then cleared his throat.

“Alright, alright—cake. Let’s get this over with before I start feelin’ like a damn Hallmark card.”

You brought over the cake, candles already lit, your face glowing in the soft flicker as you sang the most off-key, dramatic “Happy Birthday” you could manage. He groaned, but he didn’t stop you.

He blew out the candles.

You sliced two pieces, handed him a fork… then stole it right back.

“Say ah.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You really gonna hand feed me right now?”

“Our wedding reenactment,” you smiled, lifting a bite to his mouth.

He opened it, still scowling—but barely—as you fed him a chunk of cake. He chewed, crimson eyes on you the whole time.

“Good?” you asked.

He gave a slow, appreciative nod. “Yeah. sweet.”

"that so..."

You leaned in, swiped a little frosting from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. His lips looked so soft, gilding your frosted coated thumb onto them, then kissed it off his lips, pressing your own into the softness of his. It started soft.

But when your lips brushed his again—slow, and achingly warm, and just a little longer—his hands naturally found your waist, pulling you closer until you were nearly in his lap. He kissed back, gentle but hungry, lips parting to taste more of you.

You murmured between kisses, breath hot against his mouth: “Birthday kiss.”

He blinked slowly, his lips still parted from the kiss, eyes dazed and focused only on you. His hands anchored warm on your waist, thumbs stroking slow, thoughtless circles into your skin through the thin fabric. His gaze trailed over your face—your lips, your flushed cheeks, your eyes so full of mischief and adoration.

“You’re everything,” he murmured, almost like it slipped out without permission.

You kissed the tip of his nose, giggling softly. “Thank you.”

And then?

His hold tightened. Just slightly. And he pulled you into his lap.

“You keep lookin’ at me like that,” he muttered, voice thick and low, “I’m gonna forget we were takin’ things slow tonight.”

You leaned in, straddling him without hesitation, your thighs hugging his hips as you settled against him. His body welcomed you instantly, his hands sliding up your sides, fingertips dragging the fabric of your top slightly—like he wanted less of it between you.

“I was never planning to go slow, birthday boy” you whispered, brushing your lips just barely against his jaw. “especially tonight.”

His breath caught—sharp, audible. You felt it in his chest, the way it stuttered under your palms. His reaction was subtle, but every part of him twitched with anticipation: his hands, his legs beneath you, the slight lift of his hips like he was already imagining how this night would end.

“Got one more present for you,” you murmured into his ear. “The real one.”

Bakugo’s brows lifted, suspicious. “Thought that damn journal was the real one.”

You grinned, climbing off his lap for just a moment—enough to walk toward the bedroom with that sway you knew drove him wild.

He watched, chin propped on his hand, eyes darkening the second your fingers dipped beneath the hem of your top as you disappeared down the hall.

“Oi,” he called. “What kinda present needs you to change for it?”

You didn’t answer.

But when you reappeared in the doorway—lingerie clinging to your curves like a second skin, chosen with him in mind—Bakugo sat up so fast he nearly knocked the fork off the coffee table.

Your name left his mouth like a groan.

“Holy shit…”

You were wrapped in delicate black lace, the kind of thing he never thought he’d see outside a magazine, and even then—never on you. Never just for him.

His mind blanked.

No words, no witty comeback. Just the shape of you silhouetted in the soft golden light. The way the sheer material clung to your curves, catching every dip and swell like it had been tailored with him in mind. The way your thighs moved when you walked, slow and sure, like you knew what that sight alone was doing to him.

His mouth had gone dry.

And still, he sat back—frozen on the couch, like his body had been rooted to the spot. Only his eyes moved, dragging over you with almost painful reverence.

Your presence wasn't just seen. It was felt. In the sudden hush of the room. In the way the air itself seemed to shift as you crossed it. There was a softness to it—like watching a flame flicker behind glass. Dangerous, but so goddamn beautiful.

Something in his chest ached.

It didn’t matter how many times he saw you like this—wanting him like this. That wide-eyed, breath-stolen reaction always snuck up on him.

His gaze caught on your collarbones, then drifted lower—hesitating on the swell of your breasts barely veiled by lace, down the soft line of your stomach, until it settled between your legs, where the thin strip of fabric left far too little to the imagination.

The sight knocked the wind out of him.

One of his hands, resting uselessly on his thigh, curled into a fist. The other—he didn’t even realize—had wiped itself discreetly on his jeans, sweat clinging to his palm.

Not from nerves. No. Never that.

Except maybe this time, it was.

Because you were walking toward him now, hips rolling, eyes locked onto his, and he could feel his body respond before his brain had even caught up. His mouth parted. Breath shallowed.

God, the way you moved. Like you were pouring yourself into every step. Like you weren’t just walking to him—you were offering yourself.

It made his pulse stutter.

And when you climbed back into his lap, warm skin settling over the growing heat in his jeans, he couldn’t think. All he could do was feel. Your nails dragging against the nape of his neck in ghost trails feather-light, his body withered under the touch. Your perfume mingling with his senses what scent was that? and why cant he stop sniffing you.

"You smell really good baby...really good" his nose ghosted your neck, hips pulling you closer. Your thighs oh so soft to him, bracket him so warmly.

He didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

He just looked.

Admiration wasn’t something Bakugo handed out easily—not to friends, not to strangers, and definitely not out loud.

But he was looking at you now like you were everything. Like you were a dream made real. Like he didn’t know whether to kiss you, worship you, or fall to his knees for you.

He couldn’t stop drinking you in.

How had he gotten this lucky?

You kissed him again. Slowly, reverently. The kind of kiss that curled toes and short-circuited nerves. You would use a hand to pull him by the shirt, and when you pulled back just enough to murmur, “Happy birthday, Katsuki,” his lashes fluttered low, heat gathering in his face as he let the words sink in.

His breath hitched when your hands found his chest.

Just fingertips at first, dragging over the fabric of his shirt like you were memorizing him all over again. You didn’t rush—just let your palms glide across solid muscle, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath as your thumbs brushed the edge of his ribs.

He was already warm under your touch. And you hadn’t even done anything yet.

Leaning in, you pressed a kiss just beneath his jaw.

Then another—lower, slower. Your lips parted against his throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses in a trail that dipped down the curve of his neck. His skin twitched under each one, the breath in his lungs turning shallow, rough.

“who knew you’d do something like this,” he murmured, but the strain in his voice made it sound more like a will to give in than a tease.

You didn’t answer. Just smiled against his skin, your teeth grazing lightly before you sucked. Gently—just enough to make him feel it. And then again, lower. His hands tensed at your waist.

You tilted your head to kiss along the other side of his neck, scattering another series of soft hickies—like you were branding him in lace and affection.

A groan vibrated in his chest.

Your fingers slipped to the hem of his shirt. He didn’t resist. Didn’t even move.

He just watched you. Quiet. Obedient in a way only you got to see.

You peeled his shirt up, inch by inch, revealing the planes of his stomach—warm, lightly flushed, his abs tightening beneath your gaze. You kissed his chest slowly as you exposed it, lips brushing across firm muscle, leaving kisses that lingered just a little too long.

You didn’t break eye contact.

Not once.

Even as you sank further down, mouth worshipping the path beneath his sternum. Even as your nails lightly scratched up his sides, drawing out a low hiss from between his clenched teeth.

His body was buzzing now—caught between restraint and surrender.

And it was beautiful to watch him come undone like this. Strong and scarred and still, somehow, soft for you.

His head tipped back slightly, jaw clenched, one hand gripping your hip while the other fisted into the couch cushion. His thighs flexed beneath your hands.

“Fuck,” he muttered, the word half breath, half plea.

You hummed softly, letting your lips hover just above his waistband.

“You’re warm,” you whispered, voice sultry and low, like you were letting him in on a secret. “All over.”

And he was.

Buzzing. Flushed. Waiting.

With his chest bare, his breathing ragged, and his eyes glassy with anticipation—he looked up at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Your lips hovered just above the waistband of his sweats, breath brushing against the faint trail of hair disappearing beneath the fabric. The muscles in his abdomen tensed again.

And still—you didn’t touch him where he wanted you to. Not yet. Instead, you lifted your gaze, locking eyes with him as your mouth curved in the faintest, knowing smirk. There was power in the way he was watching you. Tension in the way his thighs shifted restlessly beneath yours. Every inch of him buzzed. For you.

“Can I take these off Kats?” you asked, voice honey-slow.

Bakugo grunted, half-dazed. “… yeah.”

I mean what the hell were you asking him. If anything he just wanted on him immediately but it was all for you to watch him be a completely different person He sounded so obedient watching every moment like a patient puppy. His beautiful crimson eyes shimmering under the soft glow of the room.

Your fingers dipped under the waistband and dragged it down slow. The fabric caught on the hardened outline of him, and he hissed through his teeth as you freed him from the restraint.

His cock sprang up, flushed and heavy, already leaking at the tip. His hips twitched upward involuntarily, like his body was pleading before his mouth could catch up.

You made a sound of appreciation in the back of your throat—soft, reverent—before leaning in to press another kiss, just above the base. Your tongue flicked out, tasting the warm skin there. "You want me this much suki"

His whole body shuddered.

“Y-you're really gonna take your time with this, huh?” he muttered, voice rough, but low with awe.

You didn’t answer.

You just looked up again, lips parted, pupils blown, hands pressing to his thighs to steady him—before licking a slow, flat stripe from the base to the tip.

Bakugo cursed under his breath, his hand flying to the back of your head on instinct—but it never pushed, never forced. Just tangled in your hair, holding on for dear life.

Your mouth closed around him, warm and wet and unforgiving.

And he melted.

His head tipped back, jaw slack, a ragged moan slipping past his lips. You sucked him down slow—sloppy and deep—letting your tongue trace every sensitive vein, letting your spit drip down over your hand as you worked the base.

He was a mess.

Every time you hollowed your cheeks and sank lower, his thighs tensed. His breath hitched. His hips jerked upward before he caught himself, groaning through clenched teeth.

"Fuck... baby… you—goddamn."

You pulled back just enough to swirl your tongue around the head, then sank down again, deeper this time.

And he twitched in your mouth, body locking up as you moaned around him.

The sound went straight to his spine—he was pulsing now, barely holding on.

When you pulled off with a wet pop, spit connecting your lips to him in a string, you wiped your mouth slowly with the back of your hand, lips swollen, eyes hooded.

“Wanna ride you,” you whispered, climbing back up into his lap. “Can I?”

Bakugo was panting. Eyes glassy. Completely undone.

He swallowed hard, leaning into your chest to whisper "Please.”

You hovered over him, your hair framing your face so bewitchingly. You lined him up with your entrance, already soaked and pulsing for him. And as you sank down, inch by inch, his eyes rolled back and his hands grabbed your hips like he needed something to anchor him to this earth.

You moaned low as he stretched you open.

“Shit—so full,” you breathed, resting your palms on his chest.

“Look at me,” he rasped, voice trembling. “Wanna see your face.”

You did. And when your eyes met his—when he saw the way you looked at him, like he was the only one you ever wanted—his whole expression softened.

His hands caressed up your waist, slow, reverent.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” he whispered, voice shaking.

You didn’t move right away.

Not really.

Instead, you hovered just above him, your entrance brushing the slick, sensitive head of his cock—barely letting him in, just enough to tease. Just enough to let him feel the heat of you. Your thighs flexed slightly, hips rolling in slow, agonizing circles that dragged your soaked folds over the tip again and again.

A soft, wet sound filled the space between you. Your juices clung to him, thick and sticky, smearing across his shaft with every grind.

“Fuck,” he groaned, head thunking back against the couch. “You’re—fuckin’ killin’ me.”

You smirked, gaze flicking up to watch him.

And god… the way he looked right now? His chest rising with every ragged breath, his lip bitten raw, his knuckles white where he clutched your hips. Every muscle in his thighs was trembling beneath you. Twitching with the restraint it took not to thrust up and bury himself in you.

You leaned forward, your chest brushing his while your hips stayed in motion—rocking slowly, teasing him with slick, hot friction.

“I thought this was your birthday,” you purred into his ear. “Shouldn’t I be giving you what you want?”

Bakugo grit his teeth, his jaw tight with tension.

“I do want this,” he growled. “You drivin’ me fuckin’ insane like this—teasin’ me—makin’ me feel like I’m gonna explode just from the tip—shit…”

You giggled, soft and wicked, and sat back just enough for him to watch.

One of your hands reached between you, guiding him so the head rested right at your entrance again. You gave a few slow bounces—just the tip sliding in and out, each time making him curse louder.

“S-shit! Baby—fuck—fuck, just let me in—” His voice cracked, his fingers digging into your skin like he was about to lose it.

You finally pressed your hips down a little more, letting him sink in halfway.

His mouth fell open, a deep, guttural curse ripping out of him. His head snapped forward to look at where you were taking him in, flushed and wide-eyed.

And you just smiled at the desperation in his gaze.

“are you feeling good baby,” you whispered, dragging your nails lightly down his chest.

“God—yes—fuck yes,” he hissed, eyes fluttering as you dropped down another inch. “You feel so fuckin’ good, baby. You always do. Always…”

You leaned in again, letting your breasts press to his chest as you kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Then you better hold on,” you whispered, breath hot, “because I’m not gonna stop until you’re a mess for me.”

And with that, you finally sank down fully. All the way. His entire body jerked like he’d been electrocuted.

He let out a strangled sound—somewhere between a moan and a gasp—his head rolling back, hands gripping your ass like he was holding onto sanity itself.

You didn’t move for a moment.

Just stayed there, so full of him, clenching around him until he twitched helplessly inside you. And then—slowly, sinfully—you started to ride.

Your hips began to move again—slow, like honey melting in warm sun, like a wave building over time until it crashes. You circled them, let your walls flutter around him just to feel the way he shuddered beneath you. His eyes opened halfway, heavy-lidded and glazed, following every sensual sway of your body like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.

And to him—it was.

“Katsuki…” you whispered, your palms gliding up his abdomen. “You’re so deep.”

A sharp breath hissed between his teeth. He looked like he was trying to hold something back, but his hips bucked once—shallow, needy. You kept your pace measured, deliberate, grinding down into him with that same velvet friction that made his head roll back again.

“Shit,” he groaned, the sound low and desperate. His hands were clutching at your waist now, not to guide, but to ground himself. “You’re squeezin’ me so good, mmm"

You leaned down slowly, dragging your lips across his collarbone. Then lower—pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest, his nipple. As you moved, your body rolled into his, your rhythm never faltering, hips undulating in a steady, torturous rhythm.

Every time you sank down, he twitched inside you, groaning louder.

“I love the way you sound baby,” you whispered, licking the salt from his skin. “All desperate and sweet. My perfect birthday boy.”

He looked at you like he’d melt.

One of his hands slipped up your back, tangled into your hair, tugging lightly as you nuzzled his neck. You licked a stripe just beneath his ear, then suckled gently at his skin, your teeth dragging slightly—leaving soft, loving hickeys along his neck and collar.

And every one had him groaning, his cock jerking inside you.

“Gonna mark you up tonight,” you murmured. “So everyone knows who you belong to.”

“I already do,” he rasped, voice nearly broken, “fuckin’ been yours.”

You smiled into his skin and sat back again, palms braced against his chest as you began to bounce now—slow, deep, full bounces that had him clenching his jaw and moaning through his teeth. His abs flexed beneath your hands. His hands gripped your hips tighter.

Your name left his lips like a prayer.

Your hips found a rhythm—delicious, sticky, sinful—and the way he filled you, the way he responded to every little grind, made your legs start to tremble.

He felt it. His hands slid down to cup your ass again, helping support your movements as he watched you from beneath heavy lashes.

“Baby,” he breathed. “You’re—fuck—you’re gonna make me come—just like this?”

You leaned forward again, kissed him deep, then pulled back just enough to whisper:

“Yes. Inside. Don’t hold back. I want you to come just like this.”

He let out a wrecked moan, his hips finally thrusting up to meet yours, matching your rhythm.

Faster now.

Deeper.

You clung to his shoulders, your mouth falling open as the coil inside you tightened and tightened—

And then he gasped—eyes rolling to close, mouth open and his cock twitching violently inside you as he spilled, deep and thick and hot, fingers bruising your hips while he cursed your name like a confession.

You didn’t stop.

Not even then.

Still slow. Still steady. Still riding out every aftershock as he moaned beneath you, overstimulated and undone. His eyes fluttered open, glassy and soft as they met yours. His hair stuck to his forehead. His chest heaved. His hands slid up your spine, arms curling around you as he held you close.

Your chest heaved against his, his heart pounding against your ribcage like a war drum. He was still buried deep, twitching, oversensitive—but you didn’t move. You just cradled his face, tilted it up so he had no choice but to look at you.

“Listen to you,” you whispered, voice sultry and sweet as sin. “Mouth full of curses… all because I couldn’t help creamin’ all over this fat cock.”

Bakugo groaned through clenched teeth, face flushed and jaw tight like he was holding onto the last thread of sanity.

“You heard it, didn’t you?” you murmured, grinding just enough to make him jolt, to let another wet, obscene squelch fill the space between you. “God, the noise we made—bet our neighbors think I was drowning in it.”

He groaned louder, head falling back against the couch.

You leaned down, kissed the corner of his mouth, slow and lingering, then whispered, “Soaked you, Katsuki. You feel how messy I made you? Look at your lap—look at what you did to me.”

He peeked down—eyes glassy—and let out another hoarse, broken curse when he saw the slick still glistening between your thighs, watching how you both were still connected before you lift your hips to show him, with such a sly smile it did something to him, watching his cum dripping slowly out of you onto him.

You guided yourself back in, rocking your hips again, so delicately, and he twitched inside you, helpless. His whole body shivered with a groan, his head collapsing on your shoulder "fuck enough"

You grinned. “You liked it when I sat there and shook my ass on it, didn’t you? Teasin’ you right on the tip ‘til you were cussin’ like you were about to lose your damn mind, yeah?” you grind.

“You’re—fuckin’ evil,” he gasped, fingers twitching against your waist.

You kissed his jawline this time, biting lightly just below his ear. His hands gripped you tighter again, like he was about to flip the script—but he was still spent, still weak from how you dropped your ass on him, He just held you there instead, breathing ragged, letting you purr filth against his skin.

"A little"

[meiplays]

she's my sunshine

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: Soft-spicy (heavy kissing, implied intimacy), fluff, emotional vulnerability, canon Daryl (protective, inexperienced, quiet), post-apocalyptic setting, mutual pining.

Part 2:

The sun was low, spilling amber light over the hollow buildings of the abandoned town. Dust swirled in golden flecks as Daryl Dixon trudged through the ruined convenience store, crossbow slung across his back. His boots crunched against old wrappers and shattered glass, but there were no walkers here—not for miles. Just quiet. Stillness. A break in the endless chaos.

And he knew she’d be waitin’ for him back at the loft.

That thought alone kept his steps steady.

He scanned the aisles without much hope. Anything useful had likely been raided years ago. But then—he paused, lips tugging up just slightly at the corner.

There, behind the counter, half-buried under a fallen rack, was a dusty two-liter bottle.

Dr Pepper.

And right beside it, a crinkled, battered bag of sour cream and onion chips—her favorite. He could practically hear her laugh when she tore it open, claiming “They’re probably stale as hell, but so worth it.”

He set the bottle aside carefully and reached deeper into the wreckage. Behind a shelf of rusted canned goods, he spotted a half-full bottle of old whiskey. The label was faded, but the cap was sealed. Daryl twisted it gently in his hand.

“Guess we’re havin’ a real feast tonight,” he muttered.

The makeshift loft was tucked away above an old music shop, windows cracked and vines creeping in from the walls. It had been their place for a few weeks now. Safe. Quiet. A rooftop view and just enough distance from the others.

Daryl climbed the stairs, hands full of his findings. When he stepped out onto the rooftop, he found her exactly where he expected—sitting on the ledge, legs swinging, face lit by the dusky sky.

She turned at the sound of his boots, and her eyes lit up.

“There you are,” she grinned. “I was starting to think you ditched me for a raccoon again.”

He snorted. “That happened once.”

“And you fed it jerky. Traitor.”

He held up the bottle of Dr Pepper and the bag of chips wordlessly.

Her mouth dropped open like a kid on Christmas. “No way—are you serious?”

“Found it in a wrecked store. Might kill ya, but—yeah.”

She bolted toward him and threw her arms around his neck without thinking, squeezing him tight. “You’re the best. You know that?”

He froze for a heartbeat—like he always did when she touched him—then slowly relaxed into it, awkwardly patting her back. “Ain’t nothin’.”

But to her, it meant everything.

They sat on the rooftop ledge together, sharing their spoils. The chips were stale. The Dr Pepper was flat and warm. The whiskey burned like fire.

But for some reason, it was perfect.

“So,” she said, tipping the bottle of soda against her lips. “What’s goin’ on in that broody head of yours?”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Don’t start.”

“I’m serious. You take care of me like… all the time. You bring me stuff, you watch my back, you stand guard outside the loft even when you’re dead tired. And you never say a damn thing about how you feel.”

He stiffened, fingers curling around the neck of the whiskey bottle.

She swallowed. “I know I talk a lot. I know I joke around and maybe I come off a little clingy. But I’m not stupid, Daryl. I know you care. And I just wish… I wish you’d let me in.”

The rooftop was quiet for a beat. He didn’t look at her, not at first. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, the bottle heavy in his hands.

“I ain’t good at that kinda stuff,” he said finally. “Talkin’. Feelin’. I ain’t ever had someone… want me like that.”

She shifted closer, gently brushing her hand along his forearm.

“I do,” she whispered. “I want you.”

His breath hitched. “Why?”

She laughed, not mocking—just soft and full of affection. “Because you’re kind. You care. You’re strong and smart and good. You’d never say it, but you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. And when I’m near you, I feel safe. I feel—home.”

He finally looked at her then. Really looked. His eyes—blue, stormy, always cautious—were wide and unguarded.

“You make me nervous,” he admitted, voice barely audible. “Like I don’t wanna mess this up.”

She reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “You won’t. You couldn’t.”

Without thinking, she laid her head gently on his lap. He tensed, heart pounding under his ribs—but then, slowly, carefully, he let his fingers glide through her hair. Soft strokes. Hesitant at first, then more certain.

She hummed, eyes fluttering closed. “That feels nice…”

“You’re real warm,” he mumbled, more to himself than her. “Y’like sunshine.”

She tilted her head, looking up at him from his lap with a soft smile. “Can I sit with you? Properly?”

He blinked. “You are sittin’—”

“No,” she giggled, lifting herself up. “I mean… like this.”

She swung one leg over his lap and settled gently, straddling him with her knees on either side of his thighs. Her hands rested lightly on his shoulders, and his heart nearly gave out.

“Shit,” he breathed, not out of panic—but wonder.

Her nose brushed his. “If you don’t want to—”

He cut her off by leaning forward just enough to press a shy, awkward, perfect kiss to her lips.

It was a little clumsy. A little tense. But it was Daryl—raw and real and all-in.

She cupped his cheeks, deepening it, slow and tender, giving him time to adjust. He kissed her back, eyes fluttering shut, hands still buried in her hair like it grounded him.

When her hips shifted just slightly against his lap, he made a soft sound—a needy one, surprised by his own reaction.

“S-Sorry—” he started to pull away.

“Hey,” she whispered, cupping his jaw. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry. Just… let it happen.”

He nodded stiffly, eyes wide but dark with emotion. He leaned in again, their lips meeting in a softer, slower kiss that grew bolder with each breath. Her hands slipped into his hair, and his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her like she’d disappear.

Their kiss deepened, lips parting, tongues brushing—gentle, exploring. His hands trembled slightly against her spine.

She whispered against his lips, “I love you, Daryl.”

He froze—just for a second—then rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard.

“I love you too,” he said hoarsely. “Scares the hell outta me.”

“Me too.”

They stayed like that on the rooftop, wrapped in each other. Kissing. Touching. Whispering. Sharing warmth and confessions beneath the falling night.

Daryl wasn’t used to love. He wasn’t used to being wanted.

But with her on his lap, her fingers in his hair, her smile pressed to his lips—

He finally understood what it meant to have something worth surviving for.

End.

[theplottdump]

Diego: Well now- I was possibly startin' to suspect that maybe I burnt myself on the old iron for nothin'. I'm mighty glad to find out I was wrong.

Kate: No holes? Diego: Not a single one that ain't where it supposed to be. Kate: Well that is impressive.

Diego: We may not be havin' the greatest track record with first or second impressions - Kate: - or third. Diego: But I got a good feelin' that tonight might be the one we finally get right.

Diego: Now Miss Kate, I got a hunch that's gonna require some thorough examination.

The Cowboy guided the Secret Agent's hand into the air, throwing her into a playful twirl- studying intently as he gave a thoughtful once over, before his face finally twisted into a wry smile, seemingly having come to a solid conclusion.

Kate let out an involuntary laugh as she saw his face deep in mock thought, spinning back to face him again.

Kate: What is it?? Diego: Yep. It's official. Kate: 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵? Diego: I think I miss the hat.

Kate: You're hilarious. Diego: And the lil' matching riding pants- please tell me you didn't toss em. Kate: I'll toss you if you're not careful. Diego: That a promise?

Kate: 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘸𝘣𝘰𝘺. I can still leave you here alone. Diego: Well then I guess you'll be havin' quite the sense of humor if you're thinkin' I'm about to let you go anytime soon.

Diego: But if you'd let me finish detailin' my observations- I wanted to say that I suspect this may be one of the finest dresses I've ever seen on quite possibly the prettiest girl I've ever met.

And I for one, would love to buy it a drink.

[peqchsoup]

I Can See You Pt. 2

Read Pt. 1 here

Thanks to @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 and @drewharrisonwriter here is a second part to my previous request

As previously, this has not been proofread :)

Enjoy, and let me know if you want a Pt. 3!

Your uber pulled up to a bar, not outrageous but not a dive, it was the perfect mix. Your black dress brushed the middle of your thighs as you stepped out of the cab. A sharp black wing popped out from the corner of each eye, a simple look, but one that made your eyes pop and matched your dress.

You pushed the door open and were greeted with soft jazz and atmospheric lighting. Glancing at the bar on the left, there was a person occupying almost all of the stools. Your gaze shifted to the right, where leather booths lined the wall and there, at the very end, was Joel Miller looking down at his beer. 

He was wearing a green plaid shirt with dark jeans and some work-style boots - though these seemed clean, so you assumed he didn’t actually wear them for work. Instead of the usual messy hair, Joel had combed his back ever so slightly, a couple of strands falling against his forehead. You had never seen him look so neat and standing there looking at him, you were left breathless.

He must have felt your eyes on him, because Joel lifted his gaze from his drink and caught your eyes. His mouth lifted in one corner, shooting a crooked smile in your direction and got up to greet you. 

Joel’s hand raised to brush your hair over your shoulder,

“You look gorgeous,” you blushed furiously, lost for words, “lemme getch’you a drink. What’re you havin’?”

“A Cosmopolitan, please.” 

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Joel gestured for you to sit while he went to the bar to grab your drink and another beer. You weren’t going to survive tonight if he continued acting the way he was. 

You couldn’t believe this Joel existed. Before, you had thought he was a hard shell, no way of cracking. But here you were, sitting at a table in a bar he invited you to for a date, checking out his ass while he perched on the bar.

Joel turned around with the drinks in his hands, smirking when he caught you staring which, in turn, made you blush yet again and look down at the table. You thanked him for the drink as he sat down across from you. You were so nervous that you couldn’t form any words; you just sat and gaped at the man sitting across from you.

You could have sworn Joel could hear your heart pounding in your chest when he brushed the hand you were resting on the table with his own. Naturally, your hand flinched at the touch, but you were glad that Joel didn’t pull away.

“Are you feeling alright? If you’re uncomfortable I can take you home, I won’t hold it against ya.”

Your head shot up from where you were looking at your drink and you were quick to protest.

“No! I’m not uncomfortable. I, uh, just don’t know what to say. I don’t know you very well.” Joel huffed a breath out of his nose in amusement. He flipped your hand over so he could hold it across the table, drawing circles in your palm. 

“I don’t have a great dating history so try to keep to myself but, the way I see you look at me, it does something. I’m feelin’ something I haven’t felt for a while.” 

Joel’s stare was full of pure lust. You had flashbacks to the incident in the office kitchen just a couple of hours ago. You could still feel his hands on you, his breath panting against your lips. Getting lost in thought, you looked down to his lips and back to his eyes, his right eye squinting slightly as he smirked at you again. 

The pair of you spent an hour talking. You told Joel about growing up and you watched as he started to unfold, telling you stories of the trouble he and Tommy would get into as teenagers. You were cracking the hard shell of Joel Miller.

After a final swig of his beer, he offered to drive you home, reassuring you that he’d only had the two beers and was safe to drive. You agreed with a chuckle and entered his truck.

Sitting there, you could see little pieces of Joel’s life. His jacket on the back seat, sitting next to a dirty football kit. On the floor, at your feet, you saw a blanket with “SM” stitched into the corner, indicating that it was his daughter’s blanket. You had heard snippets of Joel and Tommy talking about Sarah; when her next football match was, how she was doing in school now that she was in her last year of middle school. You hoped that one day you and Joel would have the kind of relationship where he would talk to you about Sarah, whether that relationship was romantic or just platonic.

Joel settled into the driver’s seat after closing the passenger door for you and pulled his own door shut with a sigh. 

“I told my daughter to clear her crap outta the car, I’m sorry I shoulda done it before tonight.”

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ve definitely seen worse than this!” You were pretty much speaking from experience. Sometimes, your car seemed to be your own personal trash can. Joel gave a small thanks in your direction and switched the engine on. With the engine, the radio turned on and revealed a Luke Bryan CD that was halfway through a song. 

You laughed to yourself, or so you thought,

“You got somethin’ to say about my taste in music?” Joel turned his head to look at you when he accused you, frightening you at first. But when you saw the glint in his eyes, you realised he was joking. You smiled at him so wide that you were hurting your cheeks. 

“Not at all! You like what you like!”

You laughed together and Joel sang along to some of the songs merrily to make you laugh more, with you blurting directions in between his faked tone deafness.

It only took 10 minutes to get back to your apartment. Once again, Joel opened and closed your door for you, showing that he was ever the gentleman. He bent down to reach your height and, with a breath against your ear, practically whispered,

“Lemme walk you up.”

You felt the breath go straight from your ear to in-between his legs. His voice had dropped so low due to the whisper and it did things to you that you didn’t even want to admit to yourself.

In a 17-floor apartment block, you lived on the 15th. You had never taken the stairs, and weren’t about to now, no matter how much tension you could feel budding between you and Joel as you stood and waited for the elevator to arrive. 

It pinged as the doors opened, and Joel lifted his hand in a gesture for you to go first. You practically punched the button for your floor, hands shaking from the effect that Joel had on you. 

Both of you turned to face the doors as they slid shut and the elevator began its ascent to your apartment. Joel’s knuckles brushed yours and your breath quickened. He took that as a signal and spun to face you, grabbing your hips and pushing you against the wall of the elevator. 

As he pushed you back, his lips attacked yours, pushing his tongue past your lips without waiting for permission. Your hands flew up from your sides and made their way into his hair while his own hands rounded from your hips to your ass and pulled slightly, signalling for you to hop. 

You weren’t one for antics in an elevator, being deathly afraid of any movement making them fall, but all cares had flown out of the doors before they had closed. 

When you hopped, Joel helped by lifting you and pulling your legs around his waist to rest at his hips. His mouth detached from yours, instead choosing to focus on your neck and chest where skin was revealed by the cut of your dress. When he began to suck at the sweet spot of your neck, your head flew back against the elevator. The pain of it didn’t even register because of the pleasure you were feeling. 

The hands in Joel’s hair gripped tighter and you rolled your hips against his growing bulge. You moaned at how hard he was and soon fell into a rhythm with your hips. Joel growled and bit at your tender flesh, causing you to gasp. 

The elevator dinged and came to a gradual stop. With messy hair and clothes, you dragged Joel towards your apartment.

NB: I'm English so I write in British English rather than American English. I've used some American terms like elevator and trash can because they're more widely recognised, but you'll never catch me saying soccer instead of football

[ducknotinarow]

2k7 Raph Ariel - #

| send me “#” for cell phone headcanons about our muses including

"Al'ight Al'ight let's get 'his over with I guess, sooner ya snoop the sooner I get my phone back. Not 'hat I need it back right away jus' don' want ya all over my business."

- what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone      

"Guppie"

" 've called her guppie since she was a just a little 'hing. Don an' I always took the girls to the beach and she jus' loved to splash around. She really takes to it 'ike a fish. An' Guppies are lil fish 'ight? So she's always been Guppi to me. Still call her that too she never seemed to have an issue with it. Course I don' think I would stop if she did?"  

- what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone                              

[image description ] Little baby Ariel on side of the crib that clearly is Summer from the bit of her hockey stuff bear that can be seen. She covered in the blanket Raphael made for her when they learned about the pregnancy. She Got it all bundled around her clearly one half of the photo to focus on Ariel as you can clearly see another little hand in frame and some blonde hair.

"Eh they were real cute when they were jus' babes, before 'hey could crawl an' walk. Should'a known they be nothin' but trouble afta 'hat. I know Ari and Sum are grown now but eh I jus' can' bring myself to change 'his photo. Was actually the first night Case an' I had both the girl afta' gettin' Summer. These two jus' caught on 'ike a house fire when they met. An' well I know how important it is ta have a best friend so knowin' these two were close from the start? 'm glad they always got each other. I know being a mutant aint easy so havin' someone a lil crazy who won't care I hope Ariel knows how rare that is. She ain't my kid but don' mean I don' worry 'bout the guppie. She small and 'his world ain't always kind or nice especially if ya green. So one place of peace goes a long way."

- what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone                              

Brighter by Patent Pending

Let our eyes show the fire in our hearts tonight Yeah, our eyes show the fire in our hearts tonight Let our eyes show the fire in our hearts tonight Cause you can't stop the fire You can't stop the fire

"Ari' really reminds me of Don it's kind of funny to be honest how much she 'ike my brother. Sure she got some of Von in her too but sometimes it's 'ike being around my brother again. I kinda always thought 'bout Don with 'his song so maybe it makes sense that Ari also fits it to me. I jus' know that see get's ;hat same bright eyed stare when she find somethin' she really 'ikes and she gets the same way Don does when he get into 'hat builder mindset to make somethin' I know poor kids been through shit...I know better 'han most how low ya can feel when ya take it out on ya self too. But I don' think even 'hat will put out her flames."

Fun little fact I actually went looking for a song on my Donnie playlist just for this cause it seem right for a song that raph thinks fit don would for her too ;3;

- my muse’s last text to your muse

[text] Guppie i know Summers with you tell her either i'm comin' for her or she best start walkin

---

[text] lay low from the beach humans seem to be cleaning it up today.

--

[text] I had extra yarn an' figured since ya stick by the shore it's real cold so I hand off some staff for ya dad

[text] just wear 'em to keep warm okay? getting colder in winter

[text] I may have added to them, found a mermaid charm thing you might like it

---

[text] how ya feelin' today Guppie?

----

[text] i'm heading to the docks if ya wanna hang out with ya old uncle?

[knivesofgravity]

Nekxl iv Hkstgni byesbaxn morkc ukcann nas mawy tbj sdoyt. Of iin bken nh drai cm ct try lole ccws gnn hhh knquzs.

'Rix ugr O aby usonq waozti ugr xewcgwycshz, otd sn vose ej, lc O wkhmsj ty gtyk selx muu qim hu houk wz tyi, 'Moqe (ccgqk I ruwb'z abnbqalknxr ot di fmyevz usloby, fiih vylg gnynasx). I gugh eoe nh vkab nawy, bowtiye sn fsgnc u ecz ty gx. Muu wytb g lyn mc se.

Dbxfk's cifszhshz hu bo mtwj, alinh nog, iy orl dbx dkozfx wt mi fbtk wri voasox fs vash, rca gyn usztol. Fm vabyghy hkx gc iaby ycx mo, C wwjn'd *gthzeb* nh hne zyhdre gbh vard gx.

Pat.... dbthy oxy ht zho lxoyoxm pve I mug qunpcwsttvs loe I opxbzukfem lobatjk yyo mvgt vcys, zoy, shi qnyq? Ht glv nas veyjes, eoe waotgox. B rodx'n *zsz* aziecmiom yfum dbhgk poiizk. I ncw txow shi. Zholx’g yowymvonq mmfunq, cfdurdugh, gbyom oiteueze bocgu gbvy mc med naoz cvilixe, dbth xecieiziyh. B vgd lokbkd yom ae hknx hnryozv zhymx 20 mkabm, tbj ty bxox alinh eoe axh hednxf, gnn nast soy mvgt zlhuxecm mcu? Id qtg socnem g tslxr uln akijgo vtgkd yh t dgsd naoz, wrces kxsmmsj, wkm gc roxaxf zho jksyexn.

Lixe, S ahh zhkn uwzcr zxgz ix, naoz hofisj lyf. Uiz trum kgs pik ak. Axx ewqe ryez cac C zctnk zhfie 'Vcg hu lspx gumo mhfz op xhihlo fbtk, szfbhzixa mwse lymkkex nas zwy iy iy, wrcvv sekhm pkixa tfuuxx rca. Wrcvv sekhm gkeshz orl dbx qnaxax. Gkeshz vuw S gthzebyw stoeaa hu bo lxqugxcssj? Axx gcz jemm pkckols uf lybbm fbcxbjs gcmv 'Rix, bba gcdcgu gs k vkwjgo, hhh g roulct. Id mhitdc iujooem gcc, lsex o "to-noa" hnixa, uiz bocgu xemizbozox tg omzikhgnd, hhh yowy kotdyg bbpubyw qgsd-iyt, sekhm o rod. Gxott dbth glv nas veyjes chy cgxarox fs ioefw ukt lymhkr, ni usztol, tbj id qtg un dbxa lob hhh. Un dbxa lob lxtasshz hu rowhutijy mvk dkgtuk ckolsj. Efyg dusd-gfwtg k ebzrixa zose, iin kkro vxhzeb naot efykm yixaes uno iy hnocy yiikoll, pkckols eoe gtrk try xtlobn mc *zri*.

Cm rkfshbhkli qtgt't sgfsjiknx zsay, ugr O dsxg'h xucb bh lob ugmuno. Vnh pucn.... xjkn sz bh cach'm gvemcywiavfr *tur wy* hf gninawtg sh mvk skgx kgy, opxb of S wxfzashem jinh'm ru axsmvonq nh agko cm sgssyk.... wz sdcez sekhm o rod? Nas lamn mvgt dbxfk wkm gc vromlixe di ycxgspx akaxn mvgt S btr zho mioie di xlvlylx hne gur hne zubb nan ztrkd, dbx gvamy mc yeo nas ihkhzs, gnn wacuso nh turqcos lob gr ggko.

Ugr zhknl but cifs "eoe btjk ty zhfmify lcseyhx hu houe" palvmawz. Trum'g.... kntirwtg gbh muu lyvose, opxb gs k mmihbylg potmb pwzh k qhft-oen zfadqy, usiaemx hne dcfs ce cjxbz abinbj ekwa czhol zobe wy mvk crugqk ty axh zo uhhk eoe.

Ugr yeocgu zhkn vvgnqy, zstushxze, gohnwtevs asrpox fs. O trcgy eoe qxfk try ywxsd jxfyox (iy hne yhxg chy bnfz mo) qac gcuhhkrenaxr chkn mvky'n xhbk? Efyg wl odbxfy crugukd, S hxjkr wumhkrox xbuuqb mc zhog mc ilywd oy bocgu nubn. Tbj trum'g.... g lyn, B ytog. Ugr zholx'g gn klzisexn mc he wuws, gbyom zkvofl cl mkagwzuny, uiz hyhxgzli? Naoz jemm dxofyl ae pycgh. Eoe ahh hednxf gnn ipbkd ej pvkn xiucjy ofls jin, hhh sy zuksttc, hhh g sshzzk ksx pvu alolsj mo, yost trinun id nasuronbqglvs vcaln'px pkex ytgoeb ik zksc cghkncy ycx tryf. Muu dihy zho btfj ryoms gnn yqdkcdyw butrcgu lryg bh, choh mvk cyhlswuohvsy yyo yoien qxfk sy btfyh xi foztol pvgt, khw gzivf lhxofy ycxwklw hu dy vxhzeb. Ugr O hkpx gu mewa fkszyvh lob shi lob naoz.

Tlb B hnixe B vgvo gxauri iy hnic. Gtbe youkg jogh mvk lshx oltol rca'vo vxst wsna 'Zon. S nawtk ry kot oen ht zho bhiye pik o hid, u lvupzcgu kxmols (zhyozv of ry'w dopolxr zhsm B kuuvxg'h he cokdxicyw). Zguqbbbm ad mhak degu xuko shi sany, vcsfylmohlo mbzknmy, tbj tryg xasd... "C ycxgspx muu, iin ytog?" Ugr zavebbm alinh ot.

Gbxb O skcw ctco, naoz I dbbbq yyo zcz *'Tkex* wt trum itifykgk, I wytbz id.

Jnzyewygr joomg'h pucn fsgn csgqkd gcmv sy zoegk, ob shi gincgu sy wygronq. Cm'g zho vhhn op ol. Muu qim pktdyk xasd ul aacr ul W.

O lypx muu 'Duds, vuvmxaknn, bxojmknx, pog llh, pgbsylh Usrckc iofyg akmlyk, txiohwtgmsfr. Muu ruos g gyiw vkabn, tbj yyo iiz ix nas cobe pvocr gtyks sn *lvono*.

Hhh zo wuds kvolr qopryk muu qym ohoen mvos, yl tbetrcgu. O jemm iyukfem med nh uovo shi sy *S fhjk yyo*l dxednr rorowmze, axx mvos sm asgvsyk. Rksolosy try hdziyh mc he bytr gt k nbak wryg muu mug qumwcm hu rouwwtg sn.

Rca domxfbe dbbg onpikagtsig, W caxn rca ty btjk id. C ecbe iin gu, sy gnqn 'Tkex.

[grippingbeskar]

i just k n o w that joel would absolutely love to have reader sit on his face. i don’t think he would ever initiate it, but if baby asked nicely 🤭🤭

asking nicely

joel miller x afab!reader.

warnings: 18+ explicit content. (dirty talk. lil bit of dom!joel. face sitting clearly. joel being a mf tease i want to **** *** ****) swearing.

a/n: anon you are so right. like so so right. i love when people can read his character perfectly— like you are so right about this it’s maddening. he wouldn’t ask, but boyyyyy would he provide. thankyou for this i hope it’s okay i went a little crazy with it. also i didn’t edit this i just DID it. LET ME SIT ON YOUR FACE JOELSNJCKSNCJS

“Stop fidgetin’.” Joel grumbles into the back of your neck, arm tightening around your hips to stop you from flipping over for the thousandth time. You cringe a little, knowing how the tiny bed you two have shacked up in for a night between patrol runs hides none of your thrashing movements to him. You hate keeping him from the limited sleep he gets— but it’s for a good reason.

“Sorry.” You say, and he groans in response. You try to stay still— really, you do. You try to just go to sleep, but his hand picks up it’s movement again, tracing light circles on the skin of your bare hip, and then you’re back where you started.

You feel bad you’re keeping him up, but it’s his fault. How are you meant to just fall asleep when he’s literally touching you? He’s… him. It’s impossible not to want to jump his bones every time he lays a finger on you, let alone hooks his strong arm over your body, his hips pressed against the back of yours.

You flip over again, face to face with him. One of his eyes open, and he groans.

“Darlin’.” He says, voice low and cracked with sleep. “What is it? You havin’ trouble sleeping?”

Instead of answering, you just nod and scoot a little closer to him. You were still naked from the events of just hours before, Joel bending you over the end of the bed and fucking you until your mind went blank, and he’d only bothered to put on his boxers before crashing into sleep behind you. The two of you were incessant like that— you were pretty sure it had something to do with how long it took you both to get together. Now you were, you just couldn’t stay away.

He sighs and wraps you in his arms, kissing you softly on the forehead before you tuck yourself away under his chin. It’s not true, really. Well, you were having trouble sleeping, but it’s not for the reason he thinks.

You hardly get any time alone. Between Jackson’s demanding patrol schedules and Ellie running around with all her friends, you and Joel only really get a few choice moments to be really alone. Usually, it’s great. You love having Ellie and everyone in Jackson around, but tonight you were happy to be alone, and it just made you think of all the things you two do when you’re alone, and now, when you’re supposed to be sleeping, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Better?” He says, and it’s you sighing this time. He was so sweet to you— just you, all the time, and you really shouldn’t bother him with the dirty thoughts running through your mind right now. “Alright, what is it?”

“Nothing.” You mumble and hide your face. One of his arms slips back over you slowly, his hand trailing it’s way to your face. His hands are so strong, he hardly has to apply any pressure before your eyes flutter up to him, forcing your head up.

“You lyin’ to me, darlin’?” You frown, pouting. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You can’t even see how I’m looking at you.” You squint, trying to find the lines of his face in the pitch dark room.

“Can feel it.” He tips your head higher, making your body wriggle up to follow his touch. His lips hover in front of yours, warmth rolling over your cheeks. “You having those dreams again?”

You shake your head.

“No?” He confirms, and you do it again. “You feelin’ okay? You sick or somethin’?”

“Joel—“

“Don’t whine. You’re a big girl. You need something, you ask for it.” It might not have meant to be taken like… that, but fuck, you were nearly shaking in anticipation. The dip in his voice, a slightly demeaning lilt in his tone— it was doing nothing to calm down the wicked heat spreading in your stomach.

Whatever your reaction, it told him everything he needed to know.

Suddenly he’s sitting up, taking some of that warmth with him, but then he’s reaching for you again, pulling your naked body into his lap and tucking your hair behind your ears. The movement is so natural, so practised to him that he can do it blind.

He laughs darkly, hands cupping your cheeks and kissing you so deeply that it makes you squeak in surprise. Your body tenses up, then melts into him as his hands begin to trail lower, giving you what you wordlessly told him you needed. He’s slow, letting his fingers dip into every curve around your hips, tracing the line of your spine and smiling into your mouth as you arch yourself closer.

His hands reach the base of your spine, then lower, squeezing your ass and groaning as you grind down into his lap. He pulls away, kissing roughly under your jaw, down your neck, the tired and lazy pace making it impossible to not wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers through his hair.

“This what you want, sweet thing?” All you can do is hum happily, and he grinds you down on his lap again. “Jesus Christ— fuckin’ insatiable.”

“Joel…” You whine, and his teeth graze the sensitive spot on your neck, making you gasp.

“What I say, huh? You need somethin’…” He dips his head, teeth nipping you bottom lip teasingly. “You ask for it.”

“Joel, come on…” You squeeze your eyes shut, a little embarrassed by the dirty idea that had you flipping around in bed like an animal. Something in particular you two hadn’t tried yet. “I want— I want you to…”

“Tell me, sweet thing. Taught you better than to mumble, didn’t I?” You shudder, feeling his hands wander around your hips to the top of your thighs. He was getting close, but not right on the money.

You were really going to have to say it out loud.

A tight squeeze on your hips has your eyes fluttering open again, and he was so close you could see a little bit of him now. His usually unfairly fluffy hair is a little smushed down from where he’d been pressed into the pillow, and his eyes were half lidded, flitting between your eyes and where your hips met his. He was picture perfect like this— the dimmed image making you remember all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place.

He squeezes you again, giving you a sly grin, and your mind switches from the romantic to a little more serious.

“I want your mouth.” You manage to say in a breathy gasp, and you’re rewarded with just that. He groans in approval, the vibration against your neck making you keen closer to him. He leaves wet kisses over your marked up neck, then down lower over your collarbone.

“Like this?” He says softly, and you can feel the smirk against your chest.

“No.”

“No?” He pulls back, and you groan— frustrated.

“Wait— yes. But… not like— that. Like…”

“Out with it. Now.” He says, and then smacks your ass like he’s encouraging a horse to trot. The action sparks a little fire in your stomach, and you push him in a show of strength. Your forearm shoves his chest lightly, sending him back into the headboard with a small but audible ‘oof.’

“I want to sit on your face.” You’re met with silence.

Joel’s wandering hands still on your bare skin, and if you really concentrate you can feel his stuttered pulse under his palms. The man who never freezes, never doesn’t know what to do— you left him completely speechless.

Your gut sinks. You think you’ve made him think you’re some kind of sex fiend, or worse— you’ve made him uncomfortable. You sit in the silence for two… three… four whole seconds before it all becomes too much and you try to backtrack.

“Hold on— wait, that came out of nowhere.” No, it did not. “I just… shit, Joel I just—“

“Fuck.” He mutters, and then slams his mouth to yours. He kisses you hot and heavy, and before you know it he’s laying down and you’re hovering over the top of him, your knees over his hips. “You sweet fuckin’ thing. Come ‘ere.”

“Joel, you don’t have t—“

“You want this, baby?” Figuring there’s no going back now, and the mere idea nearly sending your mind into a dizzy spell, you nod at him. “Good. Fuck— so good. I want it. Come here.”

He shuffles further underneath you, your legs feeling like jelly the second he hooks his arms around the backs of them. You gasp and nearly topple over when he yanks you up, and you have to hold onto the headboard when Joel’s shoulders part your legs further.

When you tentatively move higher, you shudder his name when his hot breath brushes over your core. It rushes over your sensitive inner thighs, and knowing he’s so close— so close, and no part of you could hide from him… it was nearly better than the actual thing. Nearly.

That was until he strained his neck up and kissed between your legs right there, and—

“Fuck, Joel!” You cried out, probably loud enough to alert anyone in the area to your location, and Joel fucking laughs. You know, because the sensation only doubles as he smiles and repeats the slow motion, tongue wrapping around your clit while his mouth slowly follows.

“Sit, baby.” He mumbles into you, and you suck in a breath, still hovering slightly over him. You don’t want to crush the man, but if you hold here any longer your legs will give out.

He doesn’t bother fighting you, just wraps his arms further around your legs and tugs you down, smothering himself between your legs so deep you don’t think he can even breath properly.

He isn’t one for wasting time, his mouth already working you open as his tongue tastes you from the new angle, and you know he looks up at your dazed expression because his nose brushes against your clit. You cry out again, and there’s a loud smack before you realise it’s his hands grabbing at your ass again, holding you down.

He groans, and it’s amazing you hear it over your own desperate little noises. It’s impossible to be quiet, Joel downright devouring every inch of you, and you have no choice but to just sit there and let him. It’s fucking earth shattering— your knuckles going white as they tighten around the wooden frame of the headboard. His tongue slides through your folds again, and when he finds that sensitive spot again, your hips buck against his face.

“Yeah— fuck. That’s it.” You hear him say, and then he’s sending an entirely new wave of pleasure up your spine, leaving you breathless for anything else but his name.

“Joel. Joel!” You say in a higher tone than you thought possible. He just groans into you again. The soft scratch of his beard against your thighs is dull compared to the sharpness of the pleasure jabbing you closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue wraps around your clit, the warmth of his mouth making your already limited vision blur into nothing, and then you all but collapse into the headboard in front of you. You don’t know if he can breathe, but he’s holding you so tightly to him and eating you out with such fucking aggression that you don’t even think he cares. He drives you crazy— switching between lapping at your core and fucking you with his mouth, never seeming to decide on a way he wants to taste you, and all it does is bring you to your peak and yank you back just as you’re about to fall.

He knows what he’s doing, too. He loves hearing it in your voice— when you pant all brokenly, when you beg him to give you something, anything, when you offer whatever he asks as long as he just lets you cum. You know what he wants to hear, and at this point, with his tongue inside of you, you’d give him whatever. Whatever he asked for.

“Joel— p-please. I can’t…” You whine as he begins to slow down again, and you can feel that ember of orgasm still alight, growing dimmer and dimmer as he pulls away. “Joel! Joel, fucking hell— please!”

“Shh, baby. It’s okay— you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.” He soothes, his hands going soft as they knead at your hips. “You taste too good, sweet thing. Got me distracted. You just want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“P-please…” It’s fucking pathetic, and he laughs, but this time it’s not as mocking.

“Good girl. Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Incoherent babbles fill the small room in your voice as he returns his mouth to you, but not before he spits into your pussy, and lets you hear just how wet you are for him and only him.

When he flattens his tongue and lets you ride his face, you know he won’t stop this time. He’s all encouragement— hands pushing your hips to grind on him, focusing his mouth on the parts he knows make you cum quick and easy when it’s him, and he’s groaning so much you think he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

Just as you think you’re going to cum, one of his hands disappear. You only feel it because it gives you just enough room to sink lower and practically trap Joel under your legs. You look over your shoulder and see him fist his cock in his hand, and that’s what pushes you over.

You let the pleasure wash over you, any concern about your weight on top of his face melting away as an intense heat strokes up and down your entire body, making your toes curl. It’s too intense to stay upright, your chest falling forward into the headboard, and Joel mutters something but you’re too blissed out to hear it.

Your hands begin to hurt with how hard your gripping the split wood, and when you let go you nearly collapse over him. Thankfully, Joel has shuffled up slightly so his head is on the pillows, so as your legs give out you land more towards you chest. He catches you easily and helps you lay back down, your legs completely numb as he tangles you back into him and the sheets.

His face nuzzles yours, nose against your cheek as he peppers kisses in its wake. When you turn to kiss him, you can taste yourself on his tongue, and your body shudders again, the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had still racketing your limp body.

When you gain back all your consciousness, you can feel how hard Joel’s breathing is as he ticks you back against him, similar to how you started the night. At first, you think you must have suffocated him, but when he pushes his leg between your thighs, you feel the absence of boxers, and then you realise.

“Joel, did you—“

“Shh.” He mumbles into your hair and kisses the top of your head, and you can’t help but feel warm all over again. You shut your eyes, picturing the image you have of his hand slipping under his boxers, jacking off to the sight and feeling of giving you head. “Sleep, baby. Long ride home tomorrow.”

You hum in agreement, but every time you close your eyes, it’s all you can see. Biting your lip, you slip your arm over his waist, tugging him closer.

When you feel him harden against your stomach, you don’t think either of you will be sleeping much tonight.

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Somethin’ Stupid: Bo Sinclair x male!reader

Warnings: homophobia, angst, nickname usage.

A/N: And to your right you’ll see “ The Hardest Sinclair Confess your Love to” :) I started writing this one before Vincent’s and finished it after ;) go meeee

“So, my house tonight?” You look over at your classmate, he smirks and nods.

“Sure, we’ll meet at the front, gotta drop my keys off to Vincent.”

You’d known Bo from a distance your whole life, always watching and observing him and his twin from afar. Mom and dad always told you to be careful with boys like him. They’d get you into a lot of trouble and up until your sophomore year you agreed with them. Bo always started fights, he was always threatening someone or making sure they regret everything they said and then some.

He was a complete dick to everyone. Even people he deemed his friends.

You always avoided him until he became unavoidable your sophomore year, when he was sat right next to you for being a trouble maker.

You thought you’d been cursed or some shit. Bo was always thought to be dumb, that he made his brother do the work and he sat around waiting for the answers.

Well, that wasn’t a true, not even a bit. Bo had engaged more with you than any of the partners you had in the past. He communicated, joked, did his work. Everything you needed in a partner.

So like Bo and Vincent you two became inseparable.

-

“Nah Sarah’s just always a bitch. Tried to say some shit to my brother last week cause she was walking too slow in the halls and Vincent went to pass her. It’s been how many fuckin’ years? Still don’t know how to walk in the halls.”

You chuckle as you write down what you and Bo are gonna say for your history presentation.

“You should see Amanda and Jack. They walk slow and if they aren’t walking they’re all this.” You jokingly stick your tongue out and fake making out with the air. Bo let’s out a laugh you’re sure all of Ambrose could hear, his laugh is absolutely contagious. Not even a second later you’re laughing too.

“Oh god yeah. Should see them at parties, holy shit you’d think they’re exhibitionists or some shit.” Bo scrunched his nose, you squint and raise a brow.

“What’s an exhibitionist?”

Bo drops his face and you swear your see him blushing. He coughs awkwardly. “You really wanna know?” He asks, you nod.

“If I didn’t wanna know I wouldn’t ask. I mean I’m guessing it’s something to do with sex.”

“Yeah, they like, get off on havin’ sex in public. Fuckin’ each other, fingerin, suckin’ dick. All that.”

You nod your head, officially grasping the word.

“Where the hell do you learn these words Bo?” You slightly joke as go back to your work.

Bo shrugs. “Books.”

You stop again.

“Really?”

You knew Bo was actually extremely smart, he just never seemed like the type to have time for books, especially with him job shadowing at the gas station more it just seemed like he had his head in the hood of a car more than in a book.

“Yes, and stop looking at me like that I find time. Usually when I’m about to go to bed.” Bo shoves you lightly, your pencil runs across your note card and you frown.

“You’re rewriting this one.” You say.

“I absolutely am not, I have to finish writin’ down things on our poster. Your fault anyways for thinkin’ I don’t read.”

Your lips purse and you shove him back. He laughs and you two continue working on your project.

-

Dinner had already passed and now you and Bo were sitting in your room watching a movie on the TV your parents spoiled you with for your birthday.

“You gotta college picked out yet?”

You shrug. Bo’s been on you more than your parents about college. Saying how far you could go and how you’re more than smart enough for it. “Just waitin’ on acceptance letters s’all.”

“Least you got a few you applied to. You better send letters and call when you go.”

You look over at Bo and smirk. “What? Are you gonna miss me or somethin’?”

Bo looks away. “Don’t make me talk about my feelin’s I ain’t good at that.”

You let out a laugh tilting your head against your mattress and shake your head.

“I guess I’ll just have to admit I’ll miss you then. Unless…” You trail off, your heart clenches a little at the thought.

“Unless?” Bo moves his face in your view, looking at your face as it’s lost in thought. You look back at your friend laying on his stomach.

“You wanna come with me? I mean everyone needs a mechanic! We could be roommates and you could work for someone then end up opening your own shop, I can graduate from computer sciences and do what the hell I’ll do with that! Can move to a house too cause God knows if I’ll ever get a wife, maybe you will though you seem like you would and-“

Bo puts his hand on your shoulder, he smiles, but something about it is off and your stomach curdles. You wanna puke up tonight’s supper.

“Let’s slow down a bit yeah? You don’t need me going out there with you, wherever the hell you’ll be- don’t say you will cause it ain’t true. Also I gotta take care of Vincent and Lester, you know my Ma ain’t doin’ too well, especially after Victor past. I would wanna go with you more than anything but I can’t. I’m sure John is gonna give me the mechanic shop too after he retires. Don’t think that I don’t care for you after all this cause I do and everything you said sounds amazing, I just can’t leave and I don’t want you stayin’ either. Your life doesn’t revolve around me and I’m trying not to be selfish and wanting you to stay.”

You frown and look down at your hands, Bo takes his hand off your shoulder and gets up, the bed groaning as he stands. He moves around the bed and to your side, sitting with his knees bent and arms on them, playing with his dad’s ring.

“Bo.”

You two look each other in your eyes, your mouth opens, then closes. You can just say it. You’ll say it and get it over with. You basically already confessed. But he rejected you and he’ll reject you again. He’ll probably make fun of you. Think of you as an idiot and you’ll be embarrassed. He’ll tell someone and it’ll spread around and everyone will look at you in disgust, you’ll be ridiculed and hanged. Your corpse kicked around.

“Blue?”

Your eyes focus back in on him. “I love you.”

Your voice can’t go above a whisper, it’ll falter and break. Bo keeps staring, he won’t stop staring, why won’t he stop. Say something fucker. Anything, so you know your fate.

“Why?” His eyes are glassy. “Why do you say things like this? You’re gonna make it so much damn harder when you leave. Don’t you understand that?”

You look down but Bo is quick to take your face in his hands. “Don’t look away from me Blue. You said it and now you’re gonna deal with it.” Bo leans in, kissing your lips. You kiss back and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I’m gonna come back for you Bo. I’m gonna call you every day until I come back and your brothers can come with us too and we’ll live in some big house in buttfuck no where and we can be us.”

Tears escape your eyes and Bo quickly tries to wipe them away.

“Sounds like a plan. Then no one has to know.” Bo holds out his pinky

You take your pinky with his.

“No one has to know.”

[theyjustv2callmynameillcumrunnin]

Indiana Shawn and the Taming of The Red Sea

Warnings:😬argument, swear words, fluff, smut (while she/you is/are on her/your period).

Request(ed):No.

Word count: 2.079, Sentence count: 139, Paragraph count: 42, Character count: 11.222 (Without space: 9.109), Syllable count: 2.650.

Theme: Established🥰relationship, Halloween🎃Party.

Feedback is always welcome(d) 👍😁😉!!!

When Halloween was just around the corner and Shawn was invited to a costume party, his girlfriend wasn't in the party mood, at all. She was on her period and spent the day in bed, not feeling well.

So she told him, "Shawn, i'm afraid I'm gonna have to decline your offer, to be your plus one to that party tonight." "Cramps gettin' the best of you, eh hun", he asked with a deep sigh, already knowing what her answer would be. "Yeah, I'm sorry, but I'm really not feelin' up to it.", "Oh hun, you don't have to feel guilty 'bout ditchin' me.", Which he got a pillow to the head, in turn for. "It's not like you invented not feelin' well, as an excuse, for not havin' to accompany me, or is it.", he inquired, hiding his face behind the pillow he managed to catch, in shame and defence.

He thought, maybe, she was going to throw something else at him, instead he heard sobs coming from the other side of the pillow. "How could you, even think of me in that way?!", she asked him, crying, face buried inbetween her knees, legs pulled up to her aching stomach, swaying to try to cope with both the physical and emotional pain.

When he lowered the pillow and took in the sight of his girl, now hurting even more, 'cause of him, he wanted to scrunch down by her side of the bed, but typical of his clumsy self, he stumbled, only to end up falling face down on the bed.

Although his antics, were able to draw a small chuckle from her, she still couldn't stop sobbing. When he pushed himself up, he carefully crawled up on the bed, scared she would reject him, feeling hurt by his words.

Relief washing over him, when she didn't try to push him away, 'cause holding her tight, comforting her, was the only thing on his mind right in this moment. "Hun, I was just jokin', I should 've known better, while you're so emotional, 'm so sorry.", he whispered in her ear, while stroking her back lovingly.

She lifted her head, due to the feeling of her boyfriend leaving kisses on the back and side of her neck, while swaying together, him holding her comfortingly to his chest. "Okay, okay, you're forgiven! Maybe you can invite a friend to join you to the party?", "That's my smart, fast thinkin' girl, Imma gonna make a few calls to see if anyone can and wants to go with me."

After a couple of minutes, it was arranged, that one of his colleagues and friends, Mike was going to pick him up. When the time came for Shawn to leave for the party, Mike pulled up, honking. Shawn responded by sending him a quick text message, saying "I'm comin' already, I'll be right there."

Putting his iPhone in the pocket of his pants, he turned to his girlfriend. "I'll be back before you know it, then we can cuddle 'till we fall asleep. How's that sound?", "That sounds like a perfect plan, to me", she said, offering him a lazy little smile, that turned to a winch, while holding her breath, from the stabbing pain to her stomach.

"Hold on, 'm gonna go fill up a hot water bottle, be right back", Shawn said, seeing her face contort painfully, nodding, as her okay and thank you, rolled into one. When he returned, he placed the bottle gently on her tummy, kissing her forehead.

"Hun, you still set on me going to that party with Mike?", "Why wouldn't I be? Now, go on, get outta here and go and have some fun!", nudging him to get off of the bed. "Alright, alright, I'm leaving already...under one condition!", "Which is?", "You try get some sleep, while I'm out, okay?!", "Okay, I'll try my best", blowing him a kiss, to which he could only smirk, shaking his head, blushing.

The whole time at the party, Shawn couldn't stop thinking about how that sweet girl of his, and how she managed to convince him, to go here, feeling so lonesome and lost, at this crowded party, without her by his side.

Now Mike was finally driving back, to drop him off home. Home, to her. His home was wherever she was, that was a fact, he was sure of.

When he and Mike had said their goodbyes and he was finally able to step inside, closing the door behind him. While normally calling out a "Hun, I'm home", now he found himself tiptoeing to their bedroom, careful not to disturb her, in case she managed to fall asleep, as they agreed on.

He was just about to take of his boots, when she switched on the lamp on her nightstand, proceeding to roll over, looking him straight in the eyes, head tilted to the side, with a look that could be the dead of him.

Only, not in the good kinda way, but in the "If looks could actually kill" kind.

"Had fun? Sure seems like you had fun, and lots of it, by the looks of you!", she exclaimed, glaring him over. "Whatta you mean by that?", he asked her, just standing there, frozen perplexed.

"You're not soundin' like that same sweet girl, I was miserably missin', the whole fuckin' night."

"Well, you're not lookin' like that same guy, that went off to that party, leavin' me here, all alone. While you knew, damn well, I wasn't feelin' good, I might add!"

"But hun, wasn't it you, who practically forced me, to go to the party, either way?!", "That's another thin', 'm not feelin' good 'bout, Shawn!", "I dunno what you're tryin' to get at, hun"

"Well, Shawn, if you don't understand me, or girls in general, by now...,she sighed, "I'm gonna teach you a valuable lesson."

"I'm all ears, hun, go 'head and teach me.", "You really haven't you figured it out yet, eh!?", "Guess I haven't then, but I'm sure, I'll get it, once you teach me that lesson!"

"Okay, here goes, are you listening?!", "Yeah, I'm listening!", "Well, Shawn, you see, here's the thing....The trick to girls is, they don't always mean what they're sayin', especially when they're emotional!", "You mean, like bein' on their period, for instance.", "Yeah, for instance"

"Oh, I get it now", "You do, you sure of that!?", "What I'm sure of now, is you wanted the same exact thin', I was longin' for all evenin'.", "Oh yeah, and what would that particular thing be then?", "Me, stayin' at home, in this bed, with you, all night, instead of goin' to that damn party! Tell me, I'm wrong, go on!?", "I can't...'Cause you're right, fuck, you're so damn right!"

While Shawn's stepping closer to the bed, she's throwing off the duvet, covering her, so she can crawl to him. She goes from standing on her knees, to sitting on them, soon as he crouches down, taking both her hands between his.

"God, I'm so stupid! Can you find it in your heart to forgive me, hun?", "Only if...", "Whatever hun, I'm even prepared to sacrifice my life for your forgiveness! Just please have some mercy on me?", "I will, on one condition", "Which is?", "If you can find it in your heart, to forgive my stupid ass!?", "Me, forgive you, for what...Bein' so whiny and bitchy?", he gritted his teeth, preparing for whatever her comeback would entail.

"Yeah, in a nut shell...For bein' so stupid, to not let you know, straight up, I really didn't want you to go with Mike to that party."

"Can you enlighten me, now, how the fuck, you ended up lookin' like a fuckin' crocodile swallowed and spit you back out? 'Cause I can remember clearly, you didn't leave lookin' like that!"

"Like what? Like I've been fumblin' nervously, with my outfit, 'cause I was feelin' so out of place, bein' at that party, without bein' able to have my arms wrapped around you, while the whole fuckin' night, my mind was only wrapped 'round you!"

"Oh hun, what am I gonna do 'bout you", "Isn' t the real question here, what are you gonna do with me?...Or better yet, to me!"

She was eyeing him for head to toe, and back up again, wetting her lips, ending with sticking her tongue out between the corner of them, giving him a naughty wink. Then she let herself fall on her back, spreading her legs, oh so tormentingly slow.

Maybe it was all getting a little to much for him, 'cause now he was giving her a certain kinda look - (see pic above) - , like she almost could see the wheels turning inside his head, while he had this smug smirk adorning his face.

After a few minutes of thinking in silence, which seemed to last an eternity to her, he spoke up, "Ya know what's a fittin' way to treat a whinin' bitch?", "No, I'm afraid, I don't...Guess you'll have to teach me.", "Oh, I'll teach ya hun, don't you worry!"

Just when she was about to say something, he silenced her by giving her a warning, "Well, when a whiny bitch, can't seem to keep her dirty mouth shut, she gets tied up to the bed!", "Is that supposed to be a threat?", she wondered out loud. "Oh no baby, that's a promise", resting his left hand on his hip, where his Indiana Jones costume provided him with a whip, his smirk only grown wider by now.

"Is that so?", that was all it took, for him to crawl up on the bed, between her legs, which where shaking in excitement, and make good on his promise.

Just as he was about to tie her to the bed with his whip, she wrapped her legs round his waist. "Well, looks like someone's impatient, eh!", she nodded her head frantically and let out a sigh from deep within her core.

Those actions made him decide, it'd be okay, if he were to take on a different approach. So instead, he brushed his wip starting from her throat, right down to where she was longing to have him the most, and back again, while he whispered "Just 'cause I'm a gentleman, I'm gonna give you a second warning."

She could only muster to swallow from all the anticipation, burning through every fiber of her body. When he added "I'm reminding you, of the fact, that I'm armed and dangerous.", she really thought, she was going to cum, right that instant.

"May I remind you, I'm on my period", "You really didn't think for a second, Indiana Shawn wasn't gonna take up the challenge of tryin' his best, to tame the Red Sea, now did ya?! Now, let's see what happens, when I put that monster of mine in it's rightful place, shall we.", "Uhm, Shawn Hunny, I think you're a little disoriented there.", "No, I'm sure, I'm right where I belong.", he retorted with a grunt. "You know damn well, that's not what I meant! I was referring to that monster, that's not the Red Sea, that's Loch Ness.", "I doubt Loch Ness, could ever treat my monster as good, as that Red Sea of yours always makes me feel."

After about an hour of loving on eachother and him being so generous, giving her two orgasms, Shawn was now lying on his back, with her draped all over him. She felt his chest make a motion like as if he was chuckling. When she lifted her head of his chest, to look up at him, sure enough he had a gigantic smirk on his face.

"Glad I was able to make you feel that good.", "It's not that...Well, it's that too.", "What's this here for, then?", she questioned, tapping his lips with her pointer finger. "Remember what you said, when you were nearin' your first orgasm?", "Hmmm...Not exactly, remind me.", "You said, well sounded more like a mixture of a whine and a moan, "I'm cummin' already, I'm right there."", "So, what about it?!". When he showed her the message he send Mike earlier, they were both full on laughing.

Until...she dared to ask him, "You weren't thinkin' of Mike, from the moment I said that, were you!?", so now the time had come, for Shawn to repay her, by starting a pillow fight.

[chronic-claire-universe]

Happy Birthday Mr Chifuyu!

Today is 19 December, Chifuyu's birthday! Me and @moon-mars-ikemen decided to join forces and make a two parts story for our favourite Tokyo Revengers characther!

Before pressing the read more, go read Mars' part, you will enjoy a perfect and elaborated story about the first division vice captain!

Part. 1 is sfw so minors can interact!

Words Count: 1453

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Mommy Kink, Oral Sex (both), Minors DNI, 18+

“Mmm Fuyu” you say while trying to break the contact with his lips, but his grin and his eagerly actions didn’t give you space for words, “F-fuyu please” you say while smiling and tigthening the grip with his hands, “Tell me my sweet mommy” he says with his smile deeply looking into you, “Have a surprise, let’s go before the twins snap us other photos and publish them as porn material” you say smiling and lookin at them, perkin from the restaurant door, “The key, I’m all yours” he says tossin them in your soft palm.

“Have a surprise for you Mr Chifuyu!” you say while lookin towards the street makin your husband blush, at the way artificial lights, were lightening your beautiful features, “Another surprise? God I don’t know if my heart is going to handleit” he says while caressing your thig, “We arrived!” you say taking his hand and givin it a kiss, “Ho-hotel?” he says confused when you park in the lot and take a bag from the backseat, “Yes dummy let’s go!” you say and Chifuyu follows you lost in the beauty of your body, his mind anticipating what is going to happen this night.

It’s been a long a time since you could be this intimate, sure you didn’t lost your sex life but havin such a little daugter that she totally loves her dad could be a bothersome during some steamy mornings, he chuckles thinking about the amount of time your daughter Keiko interrupted you. “What are you laughing at?” you say curious to know what’s in your husband mind, “Just thinkin about that we hadn’t proper fuck since Keiko born and now that we have the possibility we do it to have another one” you blush at his direct statement, “F-fuyu!” you say with red ears and cheeks, “What mommy I thought you wanted this too!” he says while ghosting his hand on your ass and squeezin it totally ignoring the stares of the concierge waitin for you. “Mrs and Mr Matsuno, we were waiting for you” he politely says while givin you curtsy, “Hope we didn’t cause any trouble coming at this hour” you say with a gentle smile to the man with gray hair, “Not at all, in fact everything is just ready. In fact here’s your key and for everything else you need you may call us pressing the number 1 one on the phone’s room” he says and givin him a curtsy you go to the elevator.

“Babe this is awesome!” Chifuyu says as soon as he enters the suit prepared for you, you smile and bringin the bag towards the bathroom you say, “Wait here mr! Don’t moove a muscle!” you say while pecking his lips and walkin backward while lookin at him spreading his legs and loosening the tie, it’s minute after that you come back with a blue night lingerie that left not so much details to the imagination, “Wanted to match your dress and your beautiful eyes” you say while going on his lap and start to kiss his ear and neck, gaining deep moans from Chifuyu, “Tonight is all about you baby, tell me whatever you want and you will have it” you say unbuttoning his chemise and starting to grind on his crotch earning groans that makes your liquids flow to your laced panties, “J-just suck me” he says with a blush and kissin you deep, he appreciates the curves of your body while his fingers caress your clothed pussy, swallowing all your moans. Disinhibition and lust fill both your eyes when you leave the kiss to breath and feelin the hard bulge under you, you can’t help but position your self on your knees and spreading him you start to leave his clothes on the floor you stare at his hard cock for a moment, “Please mommy suck me” Chifuyu says with pleading eyes but eagerly smearing your cheeks with his tip, “As you wish my daddy” you say with doe eyes while givin kitten licks to his cock. “F-fuck” Chifuyu groans as soon as you put his lenght, everytime feels like his first, he can’t get use to the way your tiny lips wrap around him and let him feel as bustin a nut the minute you start to suck up and down it, “M-mom, blossom -ngh- faster” he utters in between groans but he doesn’t wait your reply that his hips unintentionally hit the back of your throat, carefully movin his hips until you look at him with the most sensual look and he chants “Fuck fuck fuck I’m cumming y/n, I’m cumming! Swallow” and his load finish all inside your mouth givin you a side you could never be tired of, your husband a tired mess just because a blowjob only your lips could gift to his cock.

In no minute you find yourself in the bed while Chifuyu takes away every undergandment girding your perfect body, “Now it’s your turn” he says with a grin kissin you eagerly and startin to caress your nipple with the palm of his hand, causin a loud moan “Never being so sensible since you were pregnant with Keiko” he says while lookin at you and puttin a nipple on his mouth suckin like an hungry infant with his mother, “Gotta fill you a lot to see that swollen belly and perfect tits all ready for me” he says in his delirious state, “Yeah fill me up Fuyu wants to be pregnant with your baby again” you say movin your hips towards him trying to feel some contact with his warm body. Your husband looks to your desperate lookin and going up from the previous position he puts two fingers inside you grinning to your reaction, “Look at you, willing to give me pretty pussy and fill it up” he says fastening the thrusts and starting to lick at your clit, “Oh Fuyu fuck, wanna cum!” you say while taking his head and moving your lips to reach your orgasm soon enough, and that’s what you do, chanting Chifuyu’s name. Something about this night makes both you and your husband impatient, that’s why as soon as you wash the waves of your orgasm, you take Chifuyu to your lips and while kissing you he puts his cock in your entrance, sinking in one thrust “Fuck” you both moan feeling the stretch he provides you and the pleasure your tight walls give to his lenght, “F-fuck that’s my mommy, seems like the first time we fucked” he says while slowly movin but as soon as he sees your fucked out expression moaning under him and your boobs moving to his thrusts. Chifuyu suddenly feels all the control and can’t help but fuck you senseless, as he didn’t do it for a lot of time, your moans are his fuel and everytime he hears his name coming from your lips, he can’t help but savour the moment you will take all his cum and his cock can’t help but twitch at the thought “Fuck mommy, I’m not sure I will resist let’s cum together” and lookin deeply into his eyes you smile you say “Fill me up, Fuyu make a mommy again” careful circles to your clit make you come undone and that’s when Chifuyu follows you in the bliss of the moment, shooting deep rops of cum into you, whispering for the last time mommy until the final load hits deep in you.

Panting and sweating all long his body, Chifuyu collapses on your boobs, caressing his black hair you smile thinking about the new life that you’re going to create thanks to him, “Hope it will work” you say while kissin the crown of his head, “Gotta be sure” he suddenly says hopping his head looking towards you and taking you bridal style towards the bathroom planning to fuck you till he’s sure that another Matsuno will be on the way tonight, “I’m your for you all the night, all the life, happy birthday Mr Chifuyu!” you say in his arms while enjoying his warmth and preparing for another long night.

“Daddy did you plant a seed on mommy?” your daughter says as soon as she sees her daugther to the Ryuguji mansion, “Don’t worry princess, I bet your daddy planted tons of seed, you sure you’re goin to have a sibling to play tea time with you and Chi-chan” Draken says lookin at all the hickeys in your and Chifuyu’s neck, making you blush and smile under your lips, “This for sure will be another birthday to remember” Chifuyu says while lookin at his friends an then to you and your daugther, “Thanks everyone”.

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[queenxxxsupreme]

I just thought of something- Arthur as a dad and having a little girl that he's so overprotective of and he's got a ranch and he's all healthy and thick- This should be canon I swear.

A/N: BABE this might have just started a mini series involving dad!Arthur and my new ending to rdr2 that I know we deserved. There’s at least going to be two more parts (that could be read separately from this one) including Daisy’s birthday which has some members from our lovely gang in it and some drama as well as the part where Daisy gets her first horse which also has some drama in it! Also just saying, I am open to dad!Arthur requests... 

Additional Note: So in this, Charles’s SO is named Lucy and Abigail and John’s unnamed daughter that they eventually have is named Grace :) They are just mentioned but in this RDR2 AU mini series they will be appearing!

Warnings: DOES INVOLVE SPOILERS FOR RDR2 ENDING, mostly fluffy!, female!reader, 

***

“I’m a survivor, Morgan!”

Arthur jolted awake. His hands gripped the pillow beneath his head with white knuckles. 

For a split second, he didn’t know where he was. The room was dark save for a bit of moonlight that came in through the curtains that covered the window. 

He sat up, rubbing his eyes as he tried to get his bearings. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin. He pushed the quilt and fur blanket off of himself, throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

Arthur’s gaze fell on the end table by the bed. The picture on the table brought him back to reality. 

He picked the wooden frame up, a small smile coming to his lips. It was a picture of you, him, and Daisy when she was a newborn. 

“Oh how time flies.” He murmured quietly, placing the picture back down. 

Arthur glanced over his shoulder to where you should have been sleeping, but that side of the bed was empty. It wasn’t too much of a surprise that he was alone. You had trouble sleeping sometimes. But it was odd that he hadn’t noticed you getting out of bed. 

“I’m a survivor, Morgan!” Micah Bell’s voice thundered in Arthur’s ears. “That’s all there is! Living and dying!”

Arthur stood to his feet and moved down the hallway, making his way to Daisy’s room. He pushed the door open and poked his head inside. 

The little lump beneath the blankets on Daisy’s bed settled Arthur’s racing heart. All the worry that had been swirling in his stomach dwindled down at the sight of his seven-year-old daughter. 

The family dog, Carson, huffed from the foot of her bed, alarmed that someone had opened the door. 

“Shhh, boy.” Arthur tried to hush him before he could disturb Daisy, but it was too late. 

“Carson.” She whined.

“Sorry, sweetpea.”

“Daddy?” Daisy turned over in her bed, brushing her messy hair back out of her face.

“Didn’t mean to wake ya up.” Arthur moved into the room, giving Carson a pat on the head. “Just wanted to check on ya.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause…. Well ‘cause I was just worried about ya.” He explained.

Daisy looked up at him for a few moments. 

“Momma said you was havin’ bad dreams.”

Arthur furrowed his brow.

“When did she say that?”

“Earlier when she came in to check on me.”

Arthur would’ve laughed if the reason that you both were so insistent on checking on Daisy wasn’t because of your past. 

“Were you havin’ bad dreams, daddy?”

“No, sweetpea.” He started to tuck her in, making sure the blanket covered her properly and that she was comfortable. “I was just a little restless. Sometimes it’s hard for daddy to go to sleep ‘cause he knows there’s so much to do around here.”

“I can help you do stuff, daddy.” Daisy offered. “That way you can sleep better.”

Arthur smiled. 

“Sweet girl.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “You help me plenty. Try to get some rest. Tomorrow is a busy day. Do you know why it’s a busy day?”

A huge grin spread across her face. 

“I get a horse.”

“What? No, no. That don’t sound right.” Arthur shook his head. 

“Daddy!” Daisy giggled. 

“I’m just teasin’ you, sweetpea.” Arthur kissed her head once more. “Sleep tight, sweetpea. First thing tomorrow mornin’, we’ll be goin’ into town to get you a little horse.”

“What if I want a big horse?”

“Well, we’ll have to just see what the stables have got.” He chuckled. “Good night, sweetpea.”

“Good night, daddy.”

Arthur closed the door to Daisy’s room behind himself. 

He looked down the hallway towards the kitchen, hearing the sound of a quiet conversation. 

He found you and Hosea sitting at the kitchen table. 

“Drinking coffee in the middle of the night? What is it with you two?”

“We’re already up.” Hosea shrugged his shoulders. “No point in trying to go back to sleep.”

You chuckled a little. 

Arthur moved around to stand behind your chair.

“Was Daisy up earlier?” He leaned down to kiss your head. 

“Yeah, briefly. Carson heard something outside and started barking.” You nodded, taking a sip of coffee. 

Arthur looked to the large window in the kitchen that looked over the backyard. His brows furrowed together. 

“Hm. Why didn’t I hear nothin?” He moved towards the window, lingering towards the side instead of standing directly in the middle. 

“You were talkin’ in your sleep again.” You said quietly. “You only do that when you’re having real bad dreams.”

Arthur nodded. 

“I already went out there and looked around. Didn’t see anything.” Hosea told him. 

“I’m gonna go double check.”

“What- You think I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“That’s not it, old man.”

Hosea watched as Arthur disappeared down the hallway, going to the backroom to retrieve a gun.

“He only wants to see for himself that there’s nothin’ out there.” You spoke so only Hosea could hear you. “He was sayin’ Micah’s name again, Hosea.”

Hosea let out a sigh. 

“He thinks Micah’s gonna come after him.”

“You don’t think so?” You tilted your head to the side a little, eyebrows drawing together. “After…. After what happened…. Arthur ruined his plans at getting the money from Blackwater. Dutch died on that mountain. You’re the only other one who knows and Micah knows you’re here too. It would only make sense for him to come here and…. and I’m afraid, Hosea.”

Hosea shook his head softly, reaching over to take your hand. 

“Micah Bell is a coward, Y/N. He knows it. He knows Arthur’s got all of us in his corner. You, me, Charles, John-,”

“But Hosea, we’ve got families.” Your voice cracked. “We have Daisy and-and Charles and Lucy are having one of their own. Abigail and John have Jack and Grace. We-We ain’t what we used to be.”

Hosea was quiet for a few moments. 

Arthur passed through the kitchen fully dressed and carrying a shotgun.

Your eyes met his briefly. The air in your lungs escaped. It felt like someone was sitting on your chest. 

The back door closed behind Arthur.

“If it comes down to it, Y/N, we will do what we have to do.” Hosea assured you.

You nodded your head, wiping the tears from your cheeks that managed to escape. 

***

A half an hour had passed and Arthur had yet to return to the house. You ventured out to find him. He sat on the front step with the shotgun still in his hands. Upon hearing the front door open, he looked over his shoulder. 

“Do you plan on stayin’ out here all night?” 

He didn’t answer you, turning his head to look back to the woods. 

You sat down next to him, slipping your arm around his. You kissed his shoulder and leaned against him. 

“Is everything okay?”

“I just…. just got this feelin’ that ain’t sittin’ right with me. That’s all.”

“We’ve been here for four years, Arthur. We’ve been quiet, haven’t drawn any attention to ourselves and haven’t let any of the locals know our real names. There’s no way he’d know where we are.”

“If that snake wants to find me, he could. I know it. And if he…. I don’t want him anywhere near Daisy.”

“Charles and Lucy are just down the road. You know Charles is just as vigilant as you are and with those dogs he’s got, he’d know if anyone was setting up camp in the woods between our property and his. If need be, next time Sadie comes through we can ask her to dig around and see where Micah’s at. You know she’d be willing to help.”

“I hate to get her involved.” Arthur muttered, shaking his head softly. 

“If it involves the future of her niece, you know damn well she’d want to be involved.” You rubbed his arm. “It’s early, but we still got a couple hours before the sun comes up.”

He let out a breath. 

“M’not gonna sleep at all tonight, pumpkin.”

“Then at least come lay down. Let me read to you. You don’t need to be out here alone with just your thoughts.”

Arthur’s eyes found yours.

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

“I know.” You smiled. “Come on.” You patted his arm and stood up. 

“Daisy’s real excited about gettin’ herself a horse.” Arthur put his hand on the small of your back as he walked behind you. “You don’t think she’s still too young for one, do you? I mean, she’s so small. She’s smaller than Jack was and he was a tiny kid.”

“She’s just fine for her age, Arthur.” You assured him. “It’ll be good for her to get started with a horse now. It’ll keep you both busy all spring.”

“What if she gets hurt?”

“She’s bound to get hurt. It’s a part of growin’ up.”

“I don’t want her gettin’ hurt.”

The door to Daisy’s room opened and Carson slipped out. 

“Daisy.” You said her name. “You should be in bed. It’s four in the morning.”

“I can’t sleep, momma.” She lingered in the doorway to her room, a frown on her lips. 

You looked back to Arthur. He nodded his head, moving past you so he could get to your daughter. 

“You wanna come lay down with me and momma? She’s gonna read a storybook to me.” 

“Yeah!” Daisy held her hands out for him. Arthur grunted as he picked her up and placed her on his hip. 

Carson slipped into the bedroom just before you closed the door. Arthur put Daisy down on the bed and took his hat off, placing it on her head. 

“Daddy! It’s too big!” She giggled, pushing it back so it didn’t fall over her eyes.

“Nah, I think it fits just perfect.” He grinned. “I’ll be right back. M’gonna go change. Don’t get too comfortable though, sweetpea. You’re in my spot.”

You slipped off your houseshoes and pulled a book from the shelf. 

“Momma?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Where can I get a hat like this daddy’s?” Daisy put Arthur’s hat on the stand next to the bed and then settled back against his pillows. 

“I reckon if you mention it to daddy while you’re in town tomorrow he can get you one.” You sat down on your side of the bed, opening up the book. Carson made himself comfortable at the foot of the bed.

A few moments later, Arthur returned to the bedroom. He stopped just after shutting the door and put his hands on his hips. 

“Sweetpea.”

“Yes, daddy?” She giggled, bringing the blankets up to cover her nose.

“I think we got a problem. Where am I supposed to sleep if you’re in my spot?”

She giggled again, pulling the blankets up over her head as if to hide from him. 

“Arthur, she needs to sleep some.” You told him quietly. “Don’t get her-,”

He didn’t listen. Instead, he chose to tickle her through the blankets. Daisy’s delighted laughter filled the room. You couldn’t help but smile. 

Once Arthur was content with her laughter, he stopped tickling her and pulled the blankets back. Daisy’s hair was a mess. 

“Little Miss Daisy, we are definitely going to have to fix your hair in the morning.” Arthur leaned down to kiss her forehead. “But first, you need to get some sleep.”

“Nuh-uh! Momma was gonna read to us!”

“I’ll read until someone falls asleep.” You yawned. “Though I might be that someone.”

“You heard your mother, sweetpea. Scoot over so she can read us a story.” Arthur nudged Daisy over towards the middle of the bed. 

Once the two were settled, you began your story. 

“A long time ago, there were two cowboys….”

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[angelmavmurdock]

Our Little Secret: Part Six - A.R.

Word count: 5976 Summary: After Lenora’s funeral, Arvin learns some news about her. Y/n and Arvin have sex for the first time and ends up being way past her curfew...

-

WARNINGS: SMUT, FINGERING, DIRTY TALK (mild), READER'S FIRST TIME

-

I attended Lenora's funeral as her best friend.

No one knew about Arvin and I and we were keeping it for a different reason now. Not in case Lenora found out but to keep everyone else sane in this crazy time.

I had taken a week off school, helping the Russell's around the house with cooking, cleaning and some company. Emma was absolutely distraught, only coming out of bed when she needed the bathroom or needed to eat - even then it wasn't promised.

Ma was so busy with helping Daddy while I was busy helping the Russell's, we hardly got to see each other. But we both knew after the funeral things would calm down.

Arvin was handling his sister's death strangely. He wasn't sad. He didn't cry. He would go out on car rides, asking to be alone a lot of the time. I didn't know what he was doing and to be honest, I didn't want to know.

At night, once Earskell had went to bed and well after Emma had went to bed, we'd stay up, sitting outside on the patio in the old rocking chairs with some tea and listen to the radio quietly humming in the background. We wouldn't really speak much. We'd just be in each other's presence. We'd kiss. Then I'd go home.

But today was her funeral. I had a standard funeral outfit on: a black dress with tights and patent shoes with a black ribbon in my hair. I had been crying all day so my tears stained my cheeks and my eyes were red and puffy.

Emma was much the same as me while Arvin was trying to be strong for us, only a few tears leaving his eyes during the ceremony. He held me close to him, his hand just above the curve of my waist to not draw attention to us. We stood by together as Emma cried over her casket.

"Oh Lord, there's just some things we can't understand..."

She cried, kneeling to the floor and caressing the wood with her soft hands.

"But you take her into your arms..." She had to stop speaking because of her sobs.

I watched, tears falling from my face and I looked up at Arvin, rubbing my hand over his back softly. He stared numbly at the casket, only the ever-so-often squeeze of my waist indicating he was okay.

"Now I ain't somebody for sayin' prayers or..." Earskell talked, coughing and then clenching his jaw.

Arvin looked over to his Uncle and then removed his arm from around me, leaving me feeling cold without him. He slightly bent over and helped Emma to her feet, holding her by her arm and then wrapping his other arm back around me, this time on my waist.

"Let's go home." I said in almost a whisper.

Emma and everyone else nodded. I pulled away from Arvin and when he looked at me I looked back as if to say it was okay. He nodded slightly and helped his Grandma to the truck. I followed loosely behind the three of them, giving them some space to be with each other in the fresh air.

As I walked behind them through the grave yard I thought about everything.

What did she have to tell me? What happened with the preacher? Why was she so ashamed? Why did she want to end her own life?...

There were too many questions and none of them I could answer. I was supposed to be her best friend and I felt like I had let her down. I had let her down.

***

"I think it'll be real good if you went out for a night, Emma." I sighed, sitting next to her on her bed.

It had been a few days since the funeral and she was still lying in bed, only getting up for the bare minimum. Even for food she wasn't getting up for, which I was cooking each night.

"I don't have the energy, y/n." She croaked.

"I think you need a bath. And a nice new dress. And your hair did and your friends around you. There's a church day out at the beach on Saturday. I think you should go." I said with a smile.

She laughed lightly, "Honey, I hardly have five dollars to put together, how am I supposed to buy a new dress and get my hair done?"

A grin grew on my face, "Luckily I am here to help with that."

***

Saturday rolled around and I showed up early morning with two new dresses for Emma. She had gotten her hair done the day before and she was feeling a lot better. She showered and I met her in her room when she came out. I lay the two dresses on the bed and she looked in confusion.

"Pick your favourite and I'll see you in the living room." I smiled simply then left her room, closing the door behind me.

I waited in the living room with Arvin who was reading the newspaper, a cigarette bouncing between his lips and an ash tray.

"Ma asked for me to be home at 9 tonight." I said with a sigh.

Arvin looked up from the paper, "Really? That early?"

"Yeah. She does not like you." I groaned.

"Damn...I'm guessin' there's not much I can do about that, huh?"

"Not really...don't you have work today?" I asked.

"Only a small shift. Just gettin' back into it after the accident and then obviously..." He gulped.

"I know...well that'll be good." I smiled.

"Yeah."

"I'm ready!" Emma called from her bedroom.

"Come on out!" I beamed, getting up from the couch.

She clicked down the hallway in her red kitten heels. I gasped with delight. She chose the poppy patterned dress that flowed lightly below her knees. It fit her perfectly. A silver cross hung over her clavicle and her hair was pinned up nicely.

"Emma Russell, you look absolutely divine!" I grinned.

She blushed, "Really? I do love this dress, I can't thank you enough y/n."

"It's no problem at all. I'm just glad you're feelin' better and havin' fun. You deserve it."

She took a deep breath and smiled, "Thanks, darlin'."

Arvin got up to drive her to the church and he complimented her with an embrace.

"I'll be back around 11pm. It's late but the girls are all hitchin' rides with the men after their poker."

"Well I'll be gone by 9 so I'll see you tomorrow? I hope you have fun, Emma." I hummed, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you so much. Have fun!" She waved as Arvin opened the door for her.

We both watched as she and Earskell talked, going to the truck. Arvin closed the door slightly, leaning forward to me.

I giggled and cupped his face, bringing his lips to mine. It was soft but meaningful. His hands lightly touched my waist before we both pulled away.

"Have a good day at work and drive safe, alright?" I said.

"Thanks, y/n. I'll see you later. Bye." He flashed me a smile before leaving the house.

And I was left for nearly a whole day by myself.

***

Arvin's POV

The working truck pulled up to the car park outside. I jumped off the end along with everyone else and we said our goodbyes. As I headed to the truck I saw an officer standing by, looking at me.

"Need to have a word with you, Arvin." He announced.

"About what?" I asked, standing a few yards from him.

"It's uh...it's about Lenora." He spoke awkwardly.

I took a deep breath and looked away for a second, "What about her?"

"I came by here instead of home so nothin's put on your grandmother-"

"Put on her? What do you mean?" I asked.

The officer removed his uniform hat which is never a good sign. He seemed awkward. He seemed nervous.

"Y'know old Dudley in the coroners? He's a drunk but...he ain't no liar."

I looked at him with a stern look, masking the fact that my stomach was flipping inside.

"Did you know Lenora was carryin' a baby?" He asked.

I tilted my head slightly, my eyes on his. This seemed real. But it couldn't be.

I continued staring at him, hoping he'd crack.

"That's bullshit. That son of a bitch is lyin'." I clenched my jaw.

"Dudley ain't a liar. He came to me privately so as your family knew...I felt he was right." The officer nodded.

I averted eye contact, feeling myself tear up. No, no, no, no, no.

"I might've put my foot in somethin' but that wasn't my intention."

He fiddled with his dark green fedora, uncomfortable with the conversation and uncomfortable with the fact he had to tell me.

"You know that preacher ain't said no words for her? Not for people that kill themselves." I shook my head and clenched my jaw.

That son of a bitch.

***

I drove home in anger and confusion. When I pulled up, I saw y/n outside on one of the rocking chairs, a mug in her hand and a blanket wrapped around her.

My mood lifted almost automatically. She looked gorgeous in the dim sunlight. I remembered the house was empty and I was happy in that y/n and I could spend time together alone but then again, Lenora wasn't there.

I walked tiredly up the steps and she sat her mug down with a pout of her plump lips.

"Hey, you okay?" She asked me, standing up.

I didn't say anything.

"Arvin?" She prompted.

I looked up at her.

"How was work?" She asked, trying to pry something from me.

"It was fine." I shrugged, walking back to lean against the post.

She bit her lip, "Is somethin' botherin' you?"

She knew me too well.

"A uh...a police officer stopped me before goin' home." I said, retrieving a cigarette from my pocket and lighting it.

"What? Why?" She asked, arms folding as she leaned against the opposite post.

I chuckled. It wasn't to be annoying. It was in anger and confusion and disbelief.

"He told me that Lenora - my innocent, God-loving, 17-year-old sister - was pregnant before she died." I stated.

She blinked at me like a deer in headlights. She didn't speak for a few seconds, her brain working to log the information properly.

"She uh...she was p-pregnant? No." She shook her head.

"Well she was." I took a puff.

"What the hell? How did I not know?" She pressed a hand to her chest.

"Don't get mad at me I'm just repeatin' what he said!"

"I'm not mad! I'm just...she was pregnant?"

I licked my lips and nodded.

She chewed her lip in thought, wrinkles forming between her eyebrows.

"I don't believe it. That's bullshit."

"That's what I said. But, apparently some guy down at the coroner's said that she was. And apparently, he don't lie." I said.

She shook her head, "Who...who was the father? Cause he'll be out there right now runnin' free!" She exclaimed.

"I don't know. I have an idea but I don't know." I licked my back teeth.

I couldn't tell her about the preacher. She clearly didn't know and I wasn't about to tell her. Because if I told her I would have to explain how I knew and stalking some guy doesn't seem like the best thing to say.

"Well that is just...wow." She rubbed her face.

"I know."

We both went silent, our heads filled with thought and worry and confusion. How could neither of us had known?

"Are you gonna tell your Grandma?" She asked.

"No. No, I'm not." I dropped the cigarette butt and stood on it.

"I think it would set her back." She agreed.

"Exactly. She don't need that right now, she's at a good place."

y/n nodded, agreeing with me. I sighed and took my hat off, running a hand through my hair. y/n walked towards me with her arms outstretched. I smiled and welcomed her. Her arms wrapped around me tightly, her chest pressed against mine. I leaned my head on top of hers and stroked her back softly.

"We didn't get to tell Lenora." She whispered.

I gulped, "I know..."

"Well if heaven is real then she'll be lookin' down at us thinkin': I told you so."

We both chuckled at the thought. But it was slightly uncomfortable to think of her that way. Dead. In heaven. I didn't like it.

"Hey," She chirped from underneath me.

I moved my head and looked at her. She reached her hands up and wrapped them around my neck.

"You were such a good big brother." She stated.

An immediate lump in my throat formed at her words. Not if you knew the things I had done or what I was planning to do...

"And you're an amazin' person, Arv. You really are." She smiled.

I just smiled weakly at her.

"And I know you feel like you have to be strong all the time but with me...with me you don't have to." She whispered, trailing her hands down then up my chest.

Reader's POV

He stared down at me with a sudden look of lust and hunger. Before I knew it, I was being pushed back against the post, gasping as the wood hit my back. Arvin kissed me ferociously, his tongue pushing into my mouth without missing a beat. I moaned in surprised but sunk into him, getting the fast-paced rhythm he was implementing.

He moved his kisses to my neck and he began to kiss and suck on my sweet spot.

"Arvin," I moaned breathlessly, tugging his hair slightly.

His hands slid down my dress and grabbed my ass through the fabric as his mouth worked on my skin.

"Feels so good." I hummed.

His lips came back up to mine and our tongues worked with each other's, pushing and swirling in some sort of dance. It was passionate and hot and I felt like I needed more of him.

Suddenly his hands roamed further to my thighs and swiftly lifted me up. I gasped as my legs locked around his torso effortlessly. He smirked up at my surprise and kissed me again. He blindly opened the door and it slammed shut behind us. He walked through while kissing me intensely.

And then I knew I was in his room. I had only been in once or twice for laundry but I knew it was his. He pushed me against the door, ultimately closing it. I moaned again and he moved his lips to my neck again.

"Want you, Arvin." I hummed.

He looked up at me with a glint of lust and hope in his eyes.

"You sure?" He asked.

"I need you." I whispered.

That was enough for him.

He brought me off the wall and to his bed, lying me carefully on his sheets, getting on top of me.

He kept kissing me, his hands beginning to lift my dress up. I sat up and allowed him to slide it off my body. Thankfully I was wearing nicer underwear this time. He threw my dress to the side and looked down at my body in awe.

He stood up from the bed, eyes burning through my skin as he started to undo his buttons on his shirt.

I felt a colour rise to my cheeks. He was seeing me in my underwear. No guy had ever seen me in my underwear before.

"You are fuckin' unreal, darlin'." He complimented, his eyes shining with adoration.

I bit my lip, "You're makin' me nervous standin' like that."

He removed his shirt and then pulled off his dirty white t-shirt from underneath. I had seen his chest before but his bruises were nearly healed and he looked even better than before. Probably since he'd been working all day. He undid his belt and then slid down his trousers, stepping out of them.

My jaw dropped. Arvin. In. His. Underwear.

"Whatcha starin' at?" He smirked.

I gulped then looked back up at him, "Nothin' much."

He shook his head and leaped on top of me. I squealed before he kissed me.

"You're a minx, that's what you are." He chuckled against my lips.

"Well then teach me how to be good." I whispered.

He pulled away, looking down at me with his dilated brown eyes, almost completely black with passion.

"Fuck, I want to."

He began to slide his hand down my body, making rest stops at my waist and my hip before teasing the waistband of my pants. I gasped and looked up at him in lust.

"Have you ever been touched before?" He asked lowly.

He slid his hand carefully into my panties. I arched my back and moaned lightly at his touch.

"N-no." I answered honestly.

His eyebrows furrowed for a split-second.

"You've never been touched before? When you look this pretty?" He quirked an eyebrow.

His fingers slowly circled on my clit, warming me up. I grasped his arm and bit my lip at the new feeling.

"Have you ever touched yourself before?"

My throat went dry.

"No." I answered again.

He smiled, "That's okay...but you've gotta tell me if you don't like what I'm doin', alright?" He asked.

I nodded with a hum.

He pulled my panties off and I felt completely exposed. Only my brasserie covered the last part of my modesty. But I felt safe with Arvin. I trusted him.

His hand returned back to my core where he continued rubbing circles on my clit. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the new-found pleasure.

"Already so wet, darlin'."

I whimpered at his filthy words and felt his finger slide down my core. He slowly pushed a finger into my entrance. I gasped and gripped his arm that rested beside my head, propping himself up.

He started moving it in and out, beginning to pick up a pace.

"How does that feel?" He asked.

"So- good." I hummed, eyes closed in pleasure.

He began to speed his finger up, curling it up to find my spot. I moaned, bucking my hips into his palm as if to say more.

He got the message and slipped a second finger in with ease. I moaned loudly as his fingers worked inside of me. His thumb grazed constantly over my clit and whatever he was doing was making my stomach flutter.

I could hear the sounds of my arousal and it added to the pleasure.

"So good for me, y/n. So good." He praised.

"Arvin!" I whined.

"What, angel?" He asked softly.

"I need you. Please." I practically humped his hand in desperation.

He smirked, "You sure you're ready?" He asked cautiously.

I nodded, "Please."

He removed his hand from me, leaving me a whimpering, pathetic mess. He slid his underwear off and my jaw dropped once again. His member was a lot bigger than I had anticipated. But to be honest, I had never seen one so I had nothing to compare it to. But my god.

He pumped himself in his hand as he got back onto the bed, kneeling between my legs. I sat up and removed my bra myself. I then took my hair out of the band and the ribbon, sitting them aside. I lay back down, attempting to make my hair look as nice as it could splayed out on the bedsheet.

"You're so fuckin' gorgeous. Can't wait to feel you." He groaned, getting on top of me.

I bit my lip and held his arm with one hand and gripped his hair with the other.

"You ready?" He asked.

I took a deep breath and nodded. He leaned down and encased my lips in a passionate but loving kiss, our lips moving slowly over each other's and our tongues swirling around perfectly. I got so distracted by the kiss that Arvin could easily slip half-way into me. I gasped at the feeling of him.

"Is that okay?" He checked, brushing some of my hair out of my face.

I nodded and hummed. He gave me a moment to adjust to his size. It was slightly uncomfortable but that soon went away when he pulled back then thrusted slowly into me again.

"Arvin," I moaned.

He lifted my thigh up to his side and pushed further into me. I tugged his hair and bit my lip.

"So fuckin' tight, fuck. Feel so good, darlin'." He panted.

"Please go faster." I whimpered.

He dipped his head into the crook of my neck and held my thigh firmly as he began thrusting into me. His pace sped up quickly and soon enough he was moving effortlessly into me.

"Feels so good!" I moaned, arching my back into his chest.

His lips came to my breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth. I gasped at the new feeling as his tongue lapped over my skin. His thrusts sped up and he completely bottomed me out, his skin slapping against mine with every push.

"Oh god!" I tugged on his hair.

He groaned, "So gorgeous, so hot - fuck."

I rolled my eyes back at his words.

In a Christian based Southern state, having premarital sex was looked down upon. But it didn't feel wrong. It felt so good.

"So tight around me," He commented lowly.

"Can we flip?" I asked breathlessly.

"'Course."

He smoothly flipped us, so he was on his back. I bit my lip and hovered over him, taking his member in my hand.

"Fuck." We both cursed in unison.

I pumped him in my hand a few times to see what it was like and how he reacted. He gripped my thigh tighter and bit his lip. I smirked, feeling a pang of power course through me.

I swiped his member on my folds, surprised at how wet I actually was. I slowly sank down on him and we both let out long groans as I bottomed him out.

"W-woah." I panted.

He sat up, shifting inside of me. I moaned a little at the movement. His arms wrapped around me and I held his shoulders. I kissed him deeply, running my hands up into his hair and his tongue explored my mouth like it never had before.

I started to move on him, up and down was my instinct. Apparently I was right.

"Fuck, darlin'." He cursed against my lips.

"Oh god." I moaned, gripping his broad shoulders for support.

He gathered my cascading hair and put it behind my back as I moved on top of him. For some reason it made emotions flow in my brain.

Love.

They way he cared for me and was gentle with me obviously set off an emotion I had never really felt before. Not romantically, anyway.

I looked into his dark eyes and stopped bouncing on him. He looked into my eyes and held my waist.  He started to move my hips in a grinding motion. My mouth dropped open slightly at the feeling.

His eyes stayed on mine as I rolled my hips on his, his hands guiding me. It was intimate and passionate and I loved him. I held him as close to me as possible, our chests matching and my hands massaging his scalp.

"Arvin," I moaned.

I could feel a build up of tension in my stomach.

One of his hands slowly came down between us and started to rub my clit again. I threw my head back in pleasure, the feeling intensifying.

"Shit!"

"You close, darlin'?" He asked lowly.

"Close? To- to what?" I asked, fastening my movements.

"Fuck- to your high, baby."

His fingers kept working on my clit and his other hand still guided my hip.

"My high? Oh fuck! That feels so good!" I moaned loudly and highly.

His fingers worked faster.

"If you feel like you need to let go...then do it, baby." He groaned.

I didn't really know what he meant but the feeling in my core and stomach tightened.

"Oh god! Yes! Yes!" I moved my hips faster on him.

"God you feel so good, baby. So good around me." He praised.

I dug my nails into his back, my head going to his forehead.

"Arvin, I love you." I admitted breathlessly.

"You-you love me?" He repeated as if he was surprised.

"Yes! Yes, I love you." I bit my lip.

"y/n...pretty girl," He brushed some of my hair behind my ear.

"I love you, too." He grinned.

I stopped my movements for a second to smile and kiss him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him as close to me as possible.

He started to thrust up into me, the sound of skin slapping and my surprised moans filling the room.

"Oh! Yes! God, yes!" I squealed.

He worked a lot faster than I did. His member brushed a spot inside of me I didn't even know existed. I could feel myself clenching around him and he groaned at the feeling.

"Let go for me, baby. Come on." He grunted.

"I love you! Arvin, I- yes!"

I felt the knot in my stomach snap and the feeling in my core burn. I moaned and cursed and gripped Arvin's hair in ecstasy. He continued thrusting up into me, my wetness dripping down onto him and his thighs.

"Feels so good baby, good job." He praised.

He kept me in my high like I had entered nirvana. My mind went cloudy, my vision hazy, my hearing muffled. All I could sense was Arvin. And that's all I needed.

"Fuck, baby-"

He quickly flipped me back onto my back and pulled out of me. I was still somehow in my high but I opened my eyes to see what he was doing. He pumped his member a few times before grunting and finished on my upper thigh and lower stomach.

I watched in awe. His muscles tensed and untensed, his head was thrown back and the sounds leaving his mouth were heaven.

After he calmed down he crashed next to me and we both caught our breaths.

"Sorry about that, I should have asked you." He sighed.

"It's okay. I liked it." I giggled.

He shook his head and looked at me, "You are perfect, y/n."

I shook my head back, brushing my hand over his loose curls, "No, you are."

He smiled at my touch, "How was it?"

I laughed lightly, "Good. I didn't even know it was possible to feel like that."

He smirked, "I'm a master, what can I say?"

I rolled my eyes and smacked his chest. He laughed and then shuffled closer to me, lips decorating my shoulder.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked quietly.

I nodded, "Every word."

His lips connected to mine in a soft, long kiss.

"I love you." I whispered.

"I love you, too."

-

He dropped the needle onto the record and waited for the music to play.

(Play now)

'Cry To Me' by Solomon Burke began to play through the speaker.

Arvin had poured us a glass of very fancy scotch each. He said it was only for special occasions. I had only put my panties and one of his button down shirts on. The warm, humid weather was enough to keep me warm. Arvin wore a white vest shirt and some long pyjama bottoms.

"I love this song." I hummed, sipping the warm alcohol from the crystal glass.

"Dance with me." Arvin stated rather than questioned.

I smiled and sat my glass down. He gave me his hand and twirled me under his arm before bringing me into his chest.

We held hands on one side while his other hand held my waist and my other held his shoulder. We swayed back and forth to the music, enjoying the post-sex bliss.

"Come on, and cry to me." I sang an octave higher.

Arvin smiled, "I love you."

I giggled, "I love you, too."

We stayed like that, dancing and singing to the parts we knew, hands all over each other, stealing a few kisses whenever we could. He'd spin me out and I'd attempt to spin him but he could never get the hang of it.

We were happy. And we were in love.

"I've never seen you like this before, you know? I like happy on you." I smiled up at him.

A one sided smile curved on his face, "No one's been able to bring it out of me before."

I bit the inside of my lip at his words. Part of me was happy and proud that I could make him feel like that but the other part felt horrible that he's felt that way for so long.

"Well get ready to be happy a whole bunch, 'cause I ain't goin' nowhere."

He laughed, twirling me under his arm and back into his chest.

"That's exactly what I want." He smirked, leaning down to kiss me.

Our lips pressed together.

But only briefly.

A truck pulled up outside. And both of us turned to look out the window.

"Wait WHAT?!" I shouted, noticing that it was Emma and Earskell in the car.

I looked at the clock on the wall.

11:57.

"SHIT!" I exclaimed.

It was nearly midnight. I was supposed to be home at nine.

I scrambled to Arvin's bedroom and hurriedly put on my dress and shoes. Arvin put the shirt I was wearing on and changed into his work trousers again. He grabbed his jacket and his keys, shoving his feet into his shoes as we ran to the front door.

"Oh! You two are still here?" Emma jumped at the sight of us rushing past her outside.

"Back soon!" Arvin shouted.

I jumped into the passenger seat and Arvin got in the drivers. He pulled out frantically and drove off.

"Oh my god. I'm dead. I'm dead." I panicked.

"Just calm down, you'll be fine." Arvin tried to soothe me, speeding through the village.

"You'll be dead, too! Oh god what are they gonna do, Arvin?" I gripped my hair.

"We're nearly there, it'll be fine." He grasped my thigh lightly.

I took deep breaths, looking out at the silent town as we zoomed past everything. The dread in my stomach grew as we drove up the road and then entered the grounds, past the gate.

"Go before they get you, alright?" I ordered, jumping out the car.

"Y/N Y/M/N YL/N! Where the HELL have you been?!" Ma shouted from the door, storming outside.

"Ma, I can explain! Let's just go inside!" I exclaimed.

"Boy, get out that car right now!" She shouted at Arvin.

"Ma! Stop! It's not his fault!" I shouted, beginning to get defensive.

Arvin got out of the car and held his hands in his trouser pockets, walking towards Ma and I. I saw Daddy standing by the door, watching everything and my heart ached.

"You are supposed to be takin' care of her! How dare you keep her away this long with no contact! How dare you!" She shouted at Arvin, pointing a finger at hi accusingly.

"Ma! He didn't do anything!" I shouted.

"I am not STUPID y/n! I know that you two have been gettin' together almost every night. I see the car bein' parked behind the gate, I see the way you two look at each other. And I do not have a problem with that! But if the so called MAN known for his sexual acts keeps my 18 year old daughter out until MIDNIGHT, I am not gonna be happy!"

"We lost track of time, ma'am." Arvin stated calmly.

"Oh did ya' now? Doin' what?"

"Ma!" I shouted.

"No! I wanna know what was so important that stopped you from comin' home on time!"

Arvin and I stuttered, not knowing what or how to say anything.

Ma scoffed and clenched her jaw. We could practically see steam coming from her ears.

"You. Inside. Now." She demanded, pointing at me.

I furrowed my brows, "No! I'm not goin' inside with you!"

"y/n, inside right now!"

"No! I'm not leavin' Arvin!" I held his arm in mine.

Her chest heaved with rage, "Arvin, stay the hell away from my daughter."

Ma went to grab my arm but I dodged it.

"No!" I screamed.

"y/n!"

"No! I wanna be with Arvin!"

"He is no good for you!" She shouted as if he wasn't there.

"You do not get to tell me what I can and can't do! I'm an adult and if I am in love with someone-"

"IN LOVE?" Ma shouted.

"Yes! In love! We love each other and you can't stop that!" I held his arm so tightly I was surprised I hadn't cut his circulation off yet.

"You are not to be with each other anymore. You are a bad influence on my daughter and I never want to see you near her again. Do you understand?" She spoke sternly to Arvin.

I looked up at him. He gulped, his eyes becoming teary, "I understand." He uttered.

"Arvin!" I scoffed.

"I'll leave you alone." He murmured, beginning to walk away.

"Arvin! What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted, my arm still attached to him as he - we - walked away.

He opened the car door and clenched his jaw, not looking at me.

"Go with your parents. I've done enough."

"Arvin, don't say that! You- you just said you loved me!" I felt tears begin to fall from my eyes.

His chin quivered, "Just go, y/n. Please."

"What? No. No! I'm not going!"

He ripped his arm away from me and went to get in the car.

"No!"

I slammed the door so he couldn't get in.

"No! You don't get to do that, Arvin! You don't get to say you love me then fuck off when somethin' comes between us!" I shouted, realising these were more sobs than anything.

"Just go inside, y/n." He said to the ground.

I furrowed my brows and shook my head in disbelief.

"y/n-" I interrupted my mother.

"No! Arvin, please! Why are you doing this?"

"We can't be together." Arvin sniffed.

"Yes we can! We can!" I went to cup his face but he moved away.

I didn't know if it was sadness or utter rage but I broke down in tears.

"You said you loved me!" I screamed, pushing him against the car.

He took it. He didn't look at me, though. But he took my babyish tantrum.

"You said you loved me!" I cried, hitting his chest.

"y/n, go inside. Please." He begged quietly.

I saw tears fall from his face.

I stopped and stood back, watching with blurred eyes as he got into the car and drove off quickly.

I choked on a sob and kneeled to the ground in a cry, letting all the emotions I had pent up go. Absolutely everything.

Ma came up to me to comfort me but I pushed her off and stood back up.

"No! You don't get to comfort me after ruining love for me." I cried, pushing past her and running to the house.

I ran up the steps and I paused briefly when I saw Daddy watching with tired and heartbroken eyes. He silently moved to the side to let me storm away. I sobbed uncontrollable sobs as I ran up the stairs and slammed my door shut, sliding down to the floor.

I thought he loved me.

-

{Tags: @notanordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy​ }

[paterson-blue]

Honey, You're Familiar (Like My Mirror Years Ago); Part 3

Part 3: The Date

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5

Summary: Things don't go exactly to plan. Clyde stresses.

Word Count: 4,010

Warnings: fluff, spice, grumpy Clyde Logan, pouty boy (but he's still in love), sentimentalism, sickly sweet pet names, smoochin', grindin', oral sex (male receiving), cum on body (not in!), original female character–let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Thanks again to @paper-n-ashes for being my beta reader & quelling all my writing jitters. You're the absolute best!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

It’s a fuckin’ disaster.

Starts out nice. Juniper shows up on his doorstep wearin’ a slinky little black dress, one that shows off her curves and makes Clyde’s mouth go dry. She tells him he looks handsome and he feels giddy. He sweeps his newly styled hair out of his face, sayin’ she looks absolutely stunnin’. Juniper beams, grabs his hand, tells him they better get a move on ‘fore they’re late.

They’re late. They’re later than late.

They aren’ five minutes outta town when lightenin’ starts to streak across the sky. Clyde shifts uneasily, eyes cast upward towards the swirling heavens. It’s rainin’ cats and dogs in no time and Juniper has to slow to half the speed limit to drive safely. Clyde’s thoughts go to the river up ahead, the one the road crew was still tryna’ re-stabilize since the last storm flooded it.

Fifteen minutes from their destination and they have t’pull to a stop on the highway, suddenly blocked in a jam. Flashin’ red and blue lights indicate an accident up front, and while Clyde spares a thought to whoever was involved, he can’t help but check the time. They aren’ gonna make their reservation, he just knows it.

The car behind ‘em lays on its horn, the sound makin’ both Clyde & Juniper jump. The driver either doesn’ seem to understand the concept of bein’ stuck or plain just don’ care. Clyde clenches his jaw, glowerin’ into the rear view mirror—he can only see the driver’s silhouette behind the bright glow of the headlights. He’s keepin’ his cool until the driver reaches his arm out, in the pourin’ rain an’ all, just t’give Juniper the finger.

Clyde’s unbucklin’ his belt quick as can be, chest heavin’ as he reaches for the door handle. He’s ‘bout ready to stomp to the car and yank the man out.Teach ‘im a lesson on manners, teach ‘im t’treat a lady like—

“Clyde.” Juniper stops him in his tracks with just his name on her lips. He looks over at her from under his hair, expression tense. She reaches up to caress his cheek, holdin’ his face in her little palm so sweetly, thumb brushin’ over the sharp line of his jaw. “Leave him be. It’s not worth gettin’ into trouble.”

Clyde deflates, honey brown eyes downcast. He sounds miserable when he speaks. “… We’re gonna miss dinner.”

“I know, sugar. It’s okay.”

His heart flutters in his broad chest despite his distress. She’d called him ‘sugar.’ He likes that; wants to hear it again real soon.

By the time they get through all the traffic and make it to the restaurant, their reservation is indeed gone, table havin’ been given away. They stand together just outside the building, under the little awning in an attempt to stay out of the rain.

Clyde huffs, so morose that he’s unable to enjoy the way she was pressed up against his side. “M’sorry.”

Juniper frowns, reachin’ up to pat his stomach gently. “You stop that. You haven’t done anything to be sorry for.”

Clyde shakes his head sadly, heavin’ out a sigh. “It’s the Logan Family Curse.”

She looks up at him, brows arched, her hand still settled on his belly. “Oh is it now?”

He nods, brows pinched together. Juniper reaches for his hand, pulling it to her lips and pressin’ a kiss to his knuckles. “You aren’t cursed, Clyde Logan. And if you are, I’m perfectly happy to be cursed right along with you.”

Clyde doesn’ quite know how to respond to that, but luckily, he doesn’t have to right away. Juniper moves her lips to the pads of his large fingers, kissin’ ‘em gently before lettin’ him pull his hand away. Clyde cradles her pretty face in his palm, takin’ the time to admire her. Finally, he speaks. “Thank you, darlin’. That’s mighty nice of you t’say.”

Juniper nuzzles into his touch, sighin’ happily; it makes Clyde feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“I’m only saying what’s true. Now c’mon. I know it’s a Friday night but there’s bound to be somewhere we can eat.”

They end up findin’ an old fashioned drive-in burger place, somewhere they can park and eat in the car out of the rain. It’s not where Clyde wants to take her; she deserves to be wined and dined all proper, not greasy burgers and milkshakes. But Juniper doesn’ seem to mind; as soon as they’re parked she’s squintin’ up at the menu, a big smile on her face.

“This all sounds so fucking good.” She giggles, lookin’ over at him. It makes the disappointment in Clyde’s chest fade away, and he leans over the center console to peer out the window to see what choices they were offered. It puts him in her space, and Juniper leans in to press a gentle kiss to his temple. He blushes, his cheeks only getttin’ hotter when she brushes some of his hair out of his face. He desperately wants to kiss her but he doesn’ know if it’s the right time.

He’s finally acceptin’ the night’s change of plans—finally acceptin’ that this might be good, burgers and fries while dressed up nice, watchin’ the rain pour from the safety of Juniper’s little Corolla—when the carhop comes out to tend to them. Clyde’s already diggin’ into his wallet as Juniper rattles off their order; he holds his debit card out, arm reachin’ over Juniper’s lap.

The carhop doesn’ move for the card. Instead, they say “Card machine’s down. Cash only.” in what Clyde thinks is possibly the most bored tone they could muster. He tries not to bristle as he fumbles with his wallet for a second time, patience already worn thin from the night’s events. He’s only got a fifty in his billfold. The fifty.

Their fifty.

He hesitates, even though he knows it’s irrational; Jimmy always did tell him he was too damn sentimental for his own good. Juniper must realize—she always does, Clyde never seems to have to explain himself to her—because she grabs her purse from the floorboard. Clyde stops her, shakin’ his head as he tugs the fifty dollar bill out. “S’alright, darlin’. Y’told me t’save it for a rainy day.”

Juniper’s face softens at his words, and Clyde hands the money over to the carhop, who looks like they want to be literally anywhere else. Soon Clyde’s been given his change, and he quickly puts it back up. As soon as he’s done Juniper’s reachin’ for him, pullin’ him in by his collar. Clyde goes willingly, twistin’ in his seat to move his prosthetic to the middle of her back, arm wrapped around her.

“I’ll give you another one.” She tells him firmly, and Clyde huffs out a laugh.

“Well that’d be awful silly of ya, Junebug. You’ll run outta money real quick if y’keep givin’ it all t’me.” He tries to soothe her with a joke, wantin’ to let her know that it was alright. Sure, it had been special to him—reminded him of their meetin’—but it was just a piece a’ paper. What was a piece a’ paper when he had the most important thing right here in front a’ him?

He wants to curl up further into her, but their positions don’t allow for it—the vehicle doesn’ exactly allow for him to move his long limbs much a’ anywhere. If this was as close as he could get, he was satisfied. Juniper shifts suddenly, eyes trained on him as she leans closer. They share a breath, then two, and then she’s pressin’ her mouth against his.

It’s nothin’ if not chaste. Clyde gets the feelin’ she doesn’ exactly want to neck in the front seat of her car like teenagers—at least not in plain view of the drive-in’s staff and other patrons. Just a gentle kiss, a little more than a peck; firm and lingerin’ just enough that he knows it happened. Juniper follows it up with another one at the corner of mouth, their noses pressin’ against one another’s cheeks.

It’s more than enough for Clyde; more than enough to get his pulse to sky rocket. He can’t remember the last time he’s been treated so gently, so much love in such a small movement. She gives him a smile when she pulls away, and they both sit back in their seats, starin’ all heart-eyed at one another. She takes the metal of his hand in hers, holdin’ it, and Clyde thinks maybe he should reconsider the whole curse thing.

They head back home after finishin’ their meal, the storm slowly peterin’ off as they get closer to Clyde’s trailer. Juniper walks him to his door, gigglin’ when she offers him her arm to escort him. He takes it, grinnin’ like a fool as they stomp up the front steps. They stand there under the yellow porch light, humid heat surroundin’ ‘em. Clyde usually hated the humidity, but not when it was like this, creatin’ such a hazy, intimate bubble around ‘em. Juniper drops her arm, but only to reach for Clyde’s flesh hand, holdin’ it in both of hers.

“I had a really nice time tonight, Clyde. Best date I’ve ever been on—and I mean that.”

Clyde can feel himself blushin’, a pleased smile turnin’ his lips up. “I had a good time, too. Wouldja—wouldja wanna do it again? Sometime soon?”

“Yes.” She answers almost before he can finish askin’, and they both laugh. There’s a beat, a pause, a breath, and then Juniper is leanin’ up the same moment Clyde’s leanin’ down. It’s a relief when their lips touch, like the first drink a’ water in the mornin’. Clyde thinks he’s been parched his whole life and never even knew it.

Juniper’s the one who deepens it, the one who drops his hand to lean into him, to thread her fingers through his thick hair, holdin’ him close. And fuck, Clyde isn’ gonna fight it. He wraps his arm around her, prosthetic against her back as his hand moves to hold her face. His palm envelops her cheek, thumb under her chin to keep her head lifted. They kiss and kiss, and when she makes a little whine in the back of her throat Clyde swears he’s floatin’.

When she pulls away to breathe he makes a sound of his own, a disappointed little groan that she huffs out a laugh at. He’d be embarrassed if she wasn’ nuzzlin’ her nose against his cheek like she can’t get enough.

“Those lips a’ yours aren’t fair.” She murmurs, and Clyde hums, strokin’ his thumb along her jawline. He doesn’ want this to end, he thinks for possibly the thousandth time that night. He doesn’ wanna let her get back in her car an’ drive across town, over the train tracks, past the antique shop, until she gets to the bed & breakfast.

He wants her right here, and he’s never been the one in this position, but he doesn’ hesitate when he asks her, “D’y’wanna come in?”

She nods, and it sets his chest aflame. They straighten up, untanglin’ themselves from one another even as she leans into his side, not wantin’ t’be too far. Clyde’s hands shake as he unlocks the front door but he doesn’ care if she sees. He wants her to see, wants her to know what she’s doin’ t’him. Maybe then...maybe she won’t leave.

Clyde flicks on the lights, closin’ the door behind both of ‘em. He watches as Juniper assesses his things: his clumsily cleaned living area, the small kitchenette that was (thankfully) decluttered. The hallway leads back to the bathroom, and then his bedroom, but Clyde doesn’ dare look towards it, much less lead her that way. Instead, he steps towards the fridge, hand reachin’ out to brush against the door.

“Want anythin’ t’drink?” He asks, voice quiet, as if nervous to disturb the silence. Juniper shoots him a smile, shakin’ her head as she perches on the couch.

“No, I’m okay, thank you.”

Clyde nods, lingerin’ there even though he doesn’ want a drink neither. Her eyes look him over, amusement showin’ in them.

“Why don’t you c’mere? If you want, of course.”

He wants. Oh, how he wants. So he goes, movin’ across the distance between them in three long strides until he can sit himself next to her. He’s stock straight, heart thrummin’ in his chest; his nice button-down feels all tight against his skin, too itchy. He thinks only her touch’ll soothe it, but doesn’ wanna ask her. Juniper, however, reads his mind; she always can. She smoothes a hand over his jean-clad thigh, leanin’ in ever so slowly, like she’s gonna startle him if she moves too fast. Clyde’s breath catches in his throat as she kisses him again, and it's heaven, it's heaven.

It’s different from in the car, from on the porch. This time there’s more purpose to it. Juniper’s kissin’ him—tastin’ him— like he belongs to her, and Clyde thinks maybe it's because she knows he does. He’s tryna’ angle his body just right, tryin’ t’lean down without puttin’ a crick in his neck. Not that he’d care much, if he did--a crick was worth this, worth the feelin’ of her tongue brushin’ against his bottom lip, against his teeth.

Juniper makes a frustrated little noise, pullin’ back, and Clyde’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Wha--Wha’s--?” He stammers out, flesh hand flexin’ on her waist, the silky fabric of her dress feelin’ so soft and cool against his skin. Juniper’s lips are plush and kiss bitten; Clyde tries to take a picture of ‘em in his memory, eyes trained on their pretty color. He almost misses her question. Scratch that, he does miss her question; has to very ineloquently say “huh?” to get her to repeat it. She ducks her head, voice shy.

“Can I, uh--get in your lap?”

Shit. Shit. Clyde nearly feels dizzy for all the blood rushin’ down south. It makes him a little self-conscious; she’s not gonna want t’sit on his lap and have his cock pressin’ into her all demandin’ like. But damn, his little Junebug looks so eager, her eyes darker than he’s ever seen ‘em, and like he’d said: he wants. So he just nods, barely breathin’.

Juniper shifts, pushin’ him into the back of the couch and he goes easily, willingly. She hikes her dress up her legs and Clyde gets a barely there peek of dark green lace before she’s straddlin’ his lap. He moans, can’t fuckin’ help it, and Juniper dives in to capture the sound with her mouth. Her hands are on his face, in his hair, fingers rubbin’ the shells of his ears—he’s surrounded, he’s drownin’, suffocatin’. He’s never felt so alive.

His own hands are placed chastely on either one of her hips, though he knows his flesh hand must be grippin’ her somethin’ fierce. The thought flashes in his mind, of him leavin’ little fingerprint shaped bruises on her skin for her to feel the next day. It makes him shiver underneath her.

Juniper takes and takes, and Clyde lets her. Clyde wants to be taken, in whatever way she’ll have him. Suddenly she’s pullin’ away just enough to suck in a little air, lips still brushin’ against his. He presses his long nose into the soft skin of her cheek, breath hot between them. When Juniper speaks, her voice is strained.

“Touch me, Clyde. Please.”

He doesn’ hesitate. His good hand moves from her hip to her ass, grabbin’, kneadin’ as he pulls her tighter against him. She lets out the prettiest noise Clyde thinks he’s ever heard, and his lips find her neck as his other arm comes around to hold her close. God, she tastes so good; her perfume fills his head until he feels dizzy with it.

She's pressed flush to him like this, grindin’ her hips against his. Clyde’s hard and leakin’ in his brand new jeans and the only thing he can think of is hearin’ her little noises again. Her hands are back in his hair, pullin’ at it, sweepin’ it away from his face so he doesn’ get tangled in it as his mouth makes a hot path down the neckline of her dress.

It feels so damn good that Clyde doesn’ realize she’s tryin’ to get his attention until she yanks on his tresses, his scalp burnin’ from it. Honestly he thinks he groans, rough and wild in his throat, the pain shootin’ straight to his cock. But it makes him look at her, and she holds him from divin’ back into her skin.

“Clyde I wanna—I wanna taste you. Is that okay? Can I?”

Lord Almighty above. That should be his line, it really should. But how can he argue with her? He’d give her anythin’ she wanted, anythin’. And she wanted—wanted to put her mouth on him. Clyde spares a thought for all the trimmed and proper men he’s seen in porn, how much nicer they looked, how Juniper deserved the best. West coast mean surely didn’ look the way he did. But then,“Yes,” he’s sayin’, voice ragged, “yes.”

And she’s slippin’ out of his lap onto the floor between his legs. Clyde’s heart pinches, and he leans forward to pick her right back up. To say “oh, darlin’, y’don’ need to be on the hard floor like that. Lemme stand an’ you c’n sit right back on these here pillows.” But before he can get his legs under him she's pressin’ her face between ‘em, nuzzlin’ into the scratchy fabric of his jeans, right up against his cock. Clyde’s brain short circuits.

“Been wantin’ this.” Juniper murmurs, small hands workin’ at his belt, and Clyde arches his hips up, tryin’ t’help her get his jeans off. He can’t believe this—can’t believe this is happenin’. She tugs his jeans and pants down his legs, just enough that his cock is revealed. Clyde clumsily unbuttons the first couple buttons at the bottom of his shirt, not wantin’ to get the new fabric messy. Juniper seems to like his idea; she sighs and leans forward to press her lips to the bare skin of his stomach.

“Sweetheart.” Clyde whispers, voice all trembly. He stretches out a little, givin’ her more access to his pale abdomen. Her lips are so soft against his skin, against the dark trail of hair leadin’ down, down, down. She follows it, nosin’ to the crook of his thigh, teeth scrapin’ deliciously ‘fore she turns her attention to his cock—already plump and stiff, and very interested in her ministrations. She wraps a hand around it and Clyde’s breath catches in his throat. She studies his cock, gives it a gentle stroke, thumb rubbin’ at the velvety head.

“You’re so big.” Her voice is quiet, but it startles Clyde all the same—he’s been transfixed by the vision in front of him.

“O-Oh, I-m, uh—“

He’s attemptin’ to apologize—his first instinct, really. But his brain isn’t really functionin’ all that well, and then she’s leanin’ in to lave her tongue over his slit. Clyde groans, a sound comin’ deep from his chest as he zeros in on the pretty pink of her soft, wet tongue. Juniper hums as if she’s pleased, a little smile on her face, and then she’s slippin’ her mouth over his cock in earnest.

Clyde’s head drops back against the couch pillow, lungs strugglin’ to suck in air. Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck—it felt so good. She was gorgeous, she was perfect, she was a fucking angel doin’ this for him. She couldn’ take all of him into her mouth but goddamn she was tryin’. It didn’ matter—even if she wasn’ usin’ her hand to make up the difference, Clyde thinks he could cum just from seein’ her there between his legs, her silky soft lips on his skin.

He moves with her—not in a way where he’s pushin’ her or askin’ for more, but in a way where she’s pullin’ him; she’s the ebb and flow of the tide and he follows her willingly. His back arches, toes curlin’ up in his boots; his prosthetic settles on top of her free hand where it was grippin’ one of his large thighs. His other hand is too busy grippin’ the couch cushions to do much else. He’s lost to it—to her—an’ he doesn’ wanna be found.

It’s over far too quickly, embarrassingly so—it even surprises him. He’s ridin’ the high of his pleasure and his orgasm hits him so hard and fast that Clyde barely has any time t’warn her. All he can do is make a frantic noise, her name garbled in his throat as he quickly tries to push her off a’ him. But it’s too late—he’s cummin’ the same time that she’s pullin’ away, and Clyde can only watch in an odd mix of both arousal and horror as his cum paints her chin, neck, and cleavage.

Juniper’s mouth is held open in a surprised little ‘o’ shape, brows arched, and Clyde feels fuckin’ humiliated.

“J-Juniper, darlin’, m’so sorry, I—“ He scrabbles behind him for the throw blanket layin’ across the back of the couch, tuggin’ it into his lap so he can clean his mess off a’ her skin. He’s quick to tend to the spend on her cleavage first, hyperaware of how close it was to the fabric of her pretty black dress. “I’m sorry, I tried t’warn ya but it was too—“

“Clyde, it’s okay.” Her voice is all raspy and Clyde bites back a moan at the sound of it. She was so fuckin’ sexy, fuckin’ flawless. He’d cum all over her, messy and wild, and she was still lookin’ at him like he’d hung the damn moon. She pulls herself to standin’, and Clyde’s gaze dips down to where her knees were all red from kneelin’. Just another thing he didn’ know he found hot until now.

“But I guess it’s a little dangerous to keep this on, huh?”

His gaze snaps up to her face when she speaks, and she’s wearin’ a grin, eyes alight. Then she’s twistin’ her arms around, wrigglin’ out of that cute little dress until it graces the linoleum floor. She bends down to pick it up, drapin’ it carefully over one of the kitchen chairs. She moves like it’s nothin; like the sight of her in her heels and underwear ain’ makin’ his cock try to thicken up again.

“Yer so beautiful.” He tells her, gaze trained on her as she walks back over to him. Clyde feels so small with her standin’ in front of him; feels vulnerable even if he was still mostly dressed. Juniper steps out of her heels slowly, placin’ them to the side before leanin’ in, restin’ her hands on the back of the couch on either side of his head so she can kiss him.

Clyde runs his flesh hand over her bare waist, down the swell of her hip, toyin’ with the band of her underwear. He doesn’t push it down; he won’t without her permission. It’s enough to kiss her like this, soft and lazy, feelin’ her skin underneath his. He feels all gooey and happy from his orgasm, even if it had come sooner than he’d have liked.

He sighs into her mouth, content; chases her lips when she pulls away. Juniper starts to work on the buttons of his shirt, and he sits up to help her ease it off a’ his shoulders. She folds it neatly, settin’ it to the side; Clyde forces himself to speak, tryin’ to get his brain back in workin’ order. “D’y’wanna—wanna go back to the bedroom? You c’n lay down and I’ll—I’ll take care a’ ya.”

He thinks he sounds all awkward and silly, but Juniper gives him a warm smile, and his insecurities fade. She was always comfortin’ him, whether she knew it or not. She places one last lingerin’ kiss to his lips before noddin’ at him. “I’d like that.”

______________________________________________________________

taglist friends!

@paper-n-ashes @glassbxttless @mariesackler @leatherboundbirate @millenialcatlady @jynzandtonic @peachyproserpina

[eryiss]

Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hey everyone, welcome to the last chapter. Thank you so much for reading through this. I know it’s a crack ship and not everyone’s cup of tea, but I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you all enjoyed it :)

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter Ten - Moving Forward

Two Weeks Later

"You feelin' okay?"

That was a loaded question, and one Freed wasn't yet ready to deal with. He and Gajeel were walking from the guildhall infirmary side by side, the first time that Freed had been outside since his demon had left him. It was mid morning and an entirely pleasant day, and Freed found himself angry at the sun beating down on them both. If it were raining or stormy then at least it would feel appropriate for his mood.

A cane. For the rest of his life, he would need a cane.

In terms of a mage's possible injuries, ending up with a cane wasn't much to complain about. People had been killed, mutilated and injured beyond recovery, so having to walk with a cane was hardly the worst that could happen. But every time he thought about it, Freed could only see a future limited by a piece of wood he would need to lean on.

The demon, it seemed, wasn't only eating away at his soul. It had slowly been sapping away at his energy both physical and magical, and the effect was more physical than Porlyiusca had thought. Porlyusica had said that, though she didn't know how long it would take, the demon would have eventually started to make Freed wither if it had been left to stay inside of him. The issue had been that, as the demon was being dragged from his soul, it's influence had exploded and affected Freed greatly, particularly in his lower right leg.

Porlyusica had said the influence had been like an ocean, slowly wearing away the coast. But as the demon was taken, it had turned into a tsunami.

He had been assured that the injury wasn't life threatening, and it was something that he could more-or-less get passed. Eventually, he would manage to bring the strength back to his leg, and when that happened the cane would only be a precaution for the occasional moments where the injury flared back up. Apparently he would be able to work as a mage again once the recovery began, though would have to change his fighting styles and work back up to the missions he had been taking.

Maybe he should be thankful that he would be able to continue working at all. He wasn't.

"Conflicted," Freed eventually said, walking beside Gajeel and determined to keep pace with him despite the unfamiliarity of the cane. "I'm glad you're here, though. Thank you."

"I wasn't gonna be anywhere else," Gajeel said firmly, and that was something of a consolation.

There was a lull in the conversation, and Freed knew what it was. Gajeel couldn't think of anything to say, because there was nothing that he could say to make the situation any better. No doubt, Gajeel knew that Freed wasn't fond of pity, and a lot of what a person might say in the situation might be seen as pitying, and so Gajeel was probably remaining quiet. Freed hoped this wasn't going to be a sign of things to come.

As if reading his thoughts, Gajeel suddenly perked up and looked at Freed with a mischievous smile. It was forced, but Freed didn't want to linger on that and so pushed it to the side and quirked up an eyebrow in a question.

"The stripper and the puppeteer are making Sparky and the flirt do their punishment this week," Gajeel said, and Freed laughed a little. "You wanna see them makin' asses out of themselves while being ordered around by two assholes."

"They actually went through with the butler idea?" Freed chuckled.

"Yeah. Even the thing about them being in their underwear and everything," Gajeel grinned, and maybe he was just happy to hear Freed amused. The last few weeks, he had been downcast at the best of times. "Even made sparky wear bunny ears. Though he was gonna fry all of us with how pissed off he looked. We were all laughin' pretty damn hard,"

"He takes bets seriously," Freed smiled. This topic, as stupid as it was, was a welcome distraction. "Are you sure you wish for me to see my ex in such a state of undress."

"Fuck yeah i do," Gajeel grinned. "You see him, then you see me and realise how much better you are now."

"So you intended to strip off too?" Freed probed. "I am being spoiled."

"Anythin' for my prince," Gajeel said.

Prince. Gajeel had been calling Freed that a lot over the last few weeks, and it always made him blush just a little. There was something so honest about the way he said it, as if Freed really were a man of importance to him as well as being someone to be revered. Freed wasn't the type of man to need complete adoration from a partener, but the fact Gajeel was so unquestioningly open about his reverence for him made Freed delighted. It was certainly better than city-boy, too.

And when he said he would do anything for Freed, it sounded like he meant it. Not just in the sense that he would do anything to make Freed's life easier now that this had happened. No, it felt like Gajeel was naturally happy to do things for Freed because he wanted to. Freed felt the same as Gajeel in that respect; he would do anything for him.

"I think maybe I'd like to go home for tonight," Freed eventually said, and Gajeel nodded.

"Thought you might," He said. "Don't worry about groceries or anything, I sorted 'em out. Spoke to yer team, so I've got everything you normally have, I think. Might make a cottage pie for dinner, Sparky said you like 'em. And I went to that bakery downtown and got you a banoffee pie for dessert."

And with a few statements, Gajeel had gotten Freed to cry.

The man who, less than a month ago, had been nothing more than a tedious acquaintance of Freed's was now somehow one of the most treasured people in his life. Because how could he not be? How could Freed not be entirely enamoured by a man like Gajeel? A man who had visited Freed every day in the infirmary, even sneaking in some nights despite rules saying he shouldn't. A man who, despite being known for his antisocial nature, had spoken to Freed's team to find out what he liked and what he did when the world was getting on top of him. A man who knew that something so trivial and comparatively not important as an empty fridge would be Freed's first thought after what had happened.

Gajeel noticed his sudden emotion and turned immediately. He looked at Freed with such open concern on his face, cupping Freed's cheeks with his large and calloused hands so carefully that Freed might swoon. Damn this brute of a man and his hidden fragility.

"It'll get better," Gajeel whispered. "I know it's shit now, and I ain't gonna tell ya how to feel 'cause that'd be shitty of me, but you'll get past it. Yer Freed fucking Justine, remember."

"I know," Freed chuckled, blinking a few times to cut off the tears. "Thank you."

"I ain't gonna let you do this alone, neither," Gajeel kept on. "Anythin' you need, anytime, I'm gonna do it for you. And you know you've got a whole guild full of people who'll do exactly the same. You'll get through it."

"I will," Freed whispered, and smiled at Gajeel. "You're too good to me."

"Like hell I am," Gajeel argued. "Now move yer ass. I wanna get in that damn bed of yours again. Mine feels shitty after havin' yours and yer runes would only let me in when I was bringing groceries."

Freed laughed at that. Gajeel certainly wasn't going to be treating him like glass. Good.

They walked down the streets of Magnolia side by side. For the most part it seemed normal, and on the few occasions where Freed's grasp on the cane wavered, or his leg buckled under him, Gajeel would help him back to being stable, held him while he walked for a few steps, and then acted like nothing had happened. Respectful, unpatronising, but there for him.

Gajeel was going to be there for him, and at that moment that was all Freed needed.

——

One Month Later

"Come on Prince," Gajeel yelled. "Nearly there, baby. Yer so close."

Gajeel was clapping as a form of motivation, standing on the side of the lake. He and Freed were in the forest that their relationship had begun in, having spent the night camping under the stars. The morning was a brisk and cold one, but Gajeel didn't care, as he watched his boyfriend keenly and with a ridiculous grin across his face.

Freed was so close. He was so close to getting there and Gajeel was so damn proud of him.

The couple had spoken at length about how Freed was going to move past his injury, and Freed had been adamant that he wanted to be as fit as he could and return to his missions as soon as he could. While Gajeel had been a little hesitant, he had worked with Freed on how they would accomplish that, and they had settled on building up his leg's muscle in small bursts. They would make goals for Freed to accomplish, and once he had accomplished one, he would move onto something more strenuous.

Swimming the entire length of the lake was the first goal. Although swimming didn't rely too heavily on his leg muscle, it kept it moving and put some on some burn. Multiple times a week they would get to the forest, and Freed would attempt it. So far, Gajeel had needed to dive in after and help him.

But this time, it looked different.

Freed was getting closer and closer to the shoreline and Gajeel could feel that this was the one. Finally Freed was going to get to the other end of the lake without any assistance. The water parted with each swift motion, and Gajeel was grinning from ear to ear as his boyfriend got closer.

"You can do this baby," He yelled again. "Yer fucking amazing. Yer so close."

Maybe Freed heard, because he seemed to speed up. As he approached the shoreline, Gajeel picked up his cane and rushed to where Freed was going to end up. He was going to do it! He was going to make it.

The moment Freed's hand hit the side of the lake, he removed his head from under the water. A look of shock turned to something close to joy, and Gajeel relished every second of it. To see the man he loved so happy, so proud of himself, was tremendous. Better still, Freed pushed himself out of the lake with no assistance, perhaps on an adrenaline high, and managed to stand up. It was wobbly, and he reached for his cane the moment it was within reach so he could prop himself up on it, but the fact he could do that after pushing his body so hard in swimming was incredible.

"Shit," Gajeel grinned. "You fucking-"

He was cut off when Freed grabbed Gajeel by the collar, pulled him down into a strong, passionate kiss. Gajeel stepped into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Freed's waist, not caring for how wet his clothes were going to be. He kissed back with as much passion as he could, because fuck - Freed had done it!

When they pulled apart, Freed had his left hand wrapped around Gajeel's neck. He looked practically giddy at his achievement. Fuck that was a handsome look on Freed, and Gajeel wanted to see it more. He pulled away, looked his man up and down and grinned.

Bastard shouldn't be able to kiss like that while dressed in a speedo.

Only Freed would be able to take the choice to give up sex until he was feeling reovered and turn it into a game where he'd try and turn Gajeel on every chance he got, just to piss him off. Motherfucking tease

"How d'you feel?" He asked, because Freed's health was more important than his arousal. "Nothing hurting too bad?"

"It burns, but like my arms do after lifting weights," Freed said, tentatively raising his right leg and moving it slightly. "But overall, I feel fantastic. Better than I have since everything began, I think."

"I'm glad," Gajeel grinned. "You wanna have some breakfast. Brought some pancake mix from the store if you wanna try it."

"Great," Freed grinned, and began to walk beside Gajeel to where they had set up camp. He looked up towards Gajeel with a spark in his eye that had been missing for some time. It was incredible to see it again. "I want to try and do it again tomorrow, to make sure that it wasn't a fluke. Would you mind sleeping here another night?"

"Of course not," Gajeel said immediately. Freed didn't need to ask.

"Once I'm sure that I can swim the length consistently, I think it makes sense to start working on exercises that focus on my leg, rather than using it as a secondary point of focus," Freed continued, seemingly unaware as Gajeel wrapped a towel around his bare shoulders. "I have a leg press at home which I could use, though perhaps that might be too much too soon. I suppose we can test it, can't we? You wouldn't mind being there, just in case something goes wrong."

"That's fine," Gajeel nodded, grinning at his boyfriend.

"Or perhaps some kind of ankle weights would be better," Freed continued, walking towards their camp as if walking on air. "They're not the most elegant solution, but they would certainly help build up muscle without too much strain. Perhaps you could make some for me, if you found the time of course. Maybe a continuous piece of iron that would snake around my calf, that way the weight would be distributed better around the leg."

"Makes sense," Gajeel said, chuckling. He was fairly sure he wasn't really a part of this conversation Freed was having with himself.

"I did want to start work on making the barn at the back of my property into a gym, but I've kept putting it off," Freed continued. "The space is rather a mess. Maybe the two of us could clean it out together. That would get me moving and help me be physical while using the cane," He then looked up to Gajeel and frowned. "Why are you smiling like that at me?"

"Yer cute when yer scheemin'," Gajeel grinned. "Glad I get to watch it."

Freed looked like he wanted to argue, so Gajeel leant over, pressed a kiss on the crown of his head, and smiled. Things were getting better.

——

Two Months Later

"Freed, no," Bickslow said firmly. "You can't do this to us."

"Why did you think this was a good idea?" Gray demanded, resting his head in his hands. "You've doomed us all."

"You're all so dramatic," Freed chuckled, leaning back in the chair and moving the wrapped box so it was out of sight again. "And I'm afraid that, when I'm choosing a gift for my boyfriend, I didn't prioritise the opinions of my friends."

"You should have," Evergreen huffed. "This is going to be awful."

The guild's New Years party had been going for hours now, and it had been a fun affair. People had drunk, made fools of themselves, and shared tender moments with their fellow guild members. While Freed hadn't engaged in much of the action, other than beating Max, Loke and Natsu in an arm wrestling contest, he had enjoyed a night of people watching and drinking with his friends and boyfriend.

As the night wore on, The Raijinshuu had flocked to a corner and sat at a table. Not only The Raijinshuu though, as Gajeel, Gray and Elfman were now mainstays of their table. It was odd, how quickly their small group had expanded and how easy these new friendships had been formed. Even Laxus, who had openly shown frustration at the fact he could have to go through the torture of becoming friendly with new people, had managed to find common ground with their new partners, even if he did pretend to be annoyed by their presence.

Or perhaps he was distracted. He and Loke could often be found glancing across at each other in subtle moments. Perhaps being forced to dress as sexy bunny-butlers had brought them together in a way fighting side by side just couldn't.

They were less subtle than Evergreen and Elfman, though. It was frustrating.

At that moment, Gajeel and Laxus had gone to the bar to collect the latest round. Freed had taken the opportunity to have a little fun with everyone else sitting at the table, and told them what his specific gift for Gajeel was. They had been less than pleased when they found out what it was, which only made Freed even more sure he had chosen the correct present.

"Hey," Gajeel said, placing a tray of drinks on the table and kissing Freed atop the head as he passed. "Why does everyone but you look pissy?"

"I told them that we couldn't open our gifts without you and Laxus being here," Freed lied smoothly, ignoring the roll of the eyes from Gray and Bickslow. "They were so enthusiastic to see what we've all got for each other, they didn't want to wait."

"Okay?" Gajeel frowned. "I don't believe ya, but if that's the story yer gonna go with, then I ain't gonna fight ya."

Freed chuckled. Gajeel really could see right through him.

Even though he didn't believe Freed's lie, the group did begin to open the presents they had gotten for each other. Elfman and Evergreen exchanged gifts first, doing so with the maturity of a woman who didn't know how to show off her affection, and the blush of a man who was delighted at even the smallest of compliments. Next, Bickslow and Gray, who had similar minds and had gotten each other gag gifts; Gray had been gifted ten coupons for a night with Bickslow, Bickslow had been gifted a pair of mens lingerie. Even Laxus had been given a gift from an 'anonymous' source, who had gotten him a small pendant shaped like a lion.

They really needed to be more subtle.

When it came to Freed and Gajeel, Gajeel offered his wrapped gift first. The box was long and thin, and Freed looked at it with curiosity as he began to unwrap it. When he looked at Gajeel, the dragon slayer was nervous.

"If you don't like it, that's okay?" Gajeel said, and Freed frowned. "It was kinda risky. So don't feel bad if you wanna change it back."

Not entirely sure what to expect, Freed opened the box. Inside of it was a new walking cane, one made of both wood and metal, a hell of a lot nicer than the one he'd gotten from Porlyusica. For a moment he wondered what Gajeel had been so nervous about, and what he meant by 'change it back', when he saw the handle. Rather than a simple handle, Gajeel had placed the hilt of Freed's sword on top of it.

The sword had been a constant burden for Freed over the past few months. He couldn't use it as his hand was occupied with the cane, so he had been forced to retire it. Looking at it was like a reflection of how much he had lost, and it had gotten so bad that he had put it in the attic and locked it away. Gajeel had apparently found it.

"I know the sword meant a lot to ya, but after what happened it made you feel shitty," Gajeel explained. "But I wanted it to make you feel good. Not something from yer past, but something from yer future."

"It's beautiful," Freed whispered, running his hand over the metal that had once been his hilt.

The sword had been the first thing he had brought with his own money, and the hilt had been the deciding factor over all the other weapons the armory had. For most of his life, it had been his most prized possession. Now, with the hilt attached to something that he could use, rather than something that taunted him with it's past importance, he could look at it with fondness and pride again.

"You sure?" Gajeel asked.

"Yes," Freed said earnestly. "It's perfect."

"You ain't seen everythin' yet," Gajeel was grinning now, and Freed removed it from it's box. "If y' push it into the ground and twist it anti-clockwise, you'll see what else I did."

Freed did as instructed, and heard a small click come from inside the cane. He lifted it up, and a thin blade was revealed to him. He looked at the shining metal with wonderment, and slowly brought the blade towards him. Another sword, more lightweight and agile than his previous blade had been, which worked better for his current state.

"I smelted down the old one and made it from the same metal, so it'll carry all the enchantments you put on it," Gajeel explained. "Thought you'd need one for when you started working again."

"It's perfect," Freed whispered, grinning at the blade. "Thank you so much, Gajeel."

"Happy new year, prince," Gajeel mumbled, pressing his lips against Freed's for a chaste kiss. "Yer gonna kick ass, I know it."

"I certainly intend to," Freed smiled, reaching for his gift to Gajeel. "While I admit it's not as thought out as yours was - I don't think anything could be - I do hope you enjoy what I got you."

Gajeel grinned and began to rip open the present, and everyone at the table who knew what he'd been gifted seemed downtrodden at the thought. Gajeel, however, looked into the large box with sparkling eyes and the biggest, most excited grin on his face. A moment later, he brandished his new electric guitar with anticipation rushing through him. Yes, Freed had definitely gotten him the right gift.

"Holy shit," Gajeel said with an excited laugh. "This is fucking kickass."

"I'm glad you like it," Freed smiled. "I should say, I expect a show."

Everyone groaned, but Gajeel ignored them. "Fuck yeah yer getting a show."

Before leaving, however, Gajeel leant down and pressed their lips together in a passionate kiss that was perhaps too deep for the situation. But with the constant PDA from Gray and Bickslow, the love/hate flirting from Elfman and Evergreen, and whatever the hell Loke and Laxus had between them, Freed felt he was allowed to kiss his boyfriend how he pleased.

"I should say," Freed murmured into Gajeel's ear as he pulled away. "I find musicians very sexy."

"Y' do, huh?" Gajeel grinned, voice a little husky.

"And if a musician were to dedicate a song to me, I could be persuaded to let him do anything at all to me," Freed continued, voice a sexy tease which he hopes would go right down Gajeel's spine. "Including, perhaps allowing him to bind me to my bed with the manicals that he thinks I don't know are hidden in the spare room," Gajeel's breath hitched. "I might let him keep me there all night, even. Though, I suppose, once I was bound, he'd be in complete control of me, so I'd have to do as instructed no matter what."

"Fuck yeah you would," Gajeel growled a little, and Freed smirked.

Once Freed had been recovered enough, the two men had restarted their sex life. Freed was happy both topping and bottoming, but Gajeel had shown himself to enjoy taking the top roll with sadistic glee. Freed had been happy to accommodate, and he'd been beaten and bruised by the man night after night.

"Something to consider before you start," Freed grinned, pulling away from Gajeel's ear to lean back in his seat.

Gajeel walked to the guildhall's stage with purpose, hefting his new guitar and plugging it into the amplifier. It seemed like everyone but Freed was unhappy with this turn of events, but neither man cared. This was for them, and they were going to enjoy themselves.

"I'm gonna dedicate this to my Prince, the hottest motherfucker in this guild," He looked towards Freed with an evil grin. "And this is a warnin' baby. You better be dancin' now, 'cause yer gonna be too fuckin sore to do it tomorrow."

Freed laughed, raised a glass to toast the sentiment, and sat back to watch his boyfriend perform.

——

Nine Months Later

Gajeel woke up with Freed wrapped up in his arms, and he still smiled at the sight of the sleeping man despite how much he'd seen it.

One year. He'd spent one year with Freed, and enjoyed every damn day of it.

Even if the start had been rocky, both with how they first felt anger towards each other as well as the difficulties Freed was facing with his leg, Gajeel wouldn't have changed a single day. Without their arguments on that first week, then Gajeel couldn't be sure that their passion would have turned into something more beautiful and more important than Gajeel would have ever predicted. And while he would give anything for Freed not to have had to face the demon and all the consequences of its possession, Gajeel was so proud of Freed for fighting through it all and was so glad he could be there to help him.

Now, Freed was a lot better. He was stronger on his feet and his cane was rarely needed, even if he always kept it with him. He could go on missions, both with Gajeel and with his team. While they weren't as action-filled as his previous missions, Freed was relearning his craft and creating a new fighting style that could accommodate his needs.

He was a fucking badass, and Gajeel loved him so much.

Life had changed for Gajeel too. Months prior, his contract in the shitty apartment had ended and Freed had invited him to move in with him. Now, every morning he got to wake up with Freed in their shared bed, in their shared home, in their shared lives.

Life was good.

With careful movements, he pressed his lips against Freed's to coax him awake. One thing that hadn't changed was Freed's adorable habit of sleeping in as late as he could, and normally Gajeel would be happy to accommodate. But today was their anniversary and he wanted to spend as much time as he could with his boyfriend. The afternoon and the evening were all planned by Freed, but Gajeel had a few ways of making the morning more fun.

"Wake up, baby," He murmured. "I got a surprise for ya."

Freed, as he always did when he was woken up before he wanted, blinked a few times and pushed his face into Gajeel's chest as if in protest to waking up. Gajeel chuckled, stroked his hand through Freed's hair, and gently pulled the man out from his chest. Freed was sleep worn and tired, but still smiled up at Gajeel.

"Morning," He greeted through a yawn.

"G' mornin'," Gajeel said with a grin. "Y' better not be tired all day. I've got plans for ya."

"Oh have you," Freed grinned lazily, hand resting on Gajeel. "Do tell."

"Not like that, y' horny fucker," Gajeel grinned. Of course, part of the day would be dedicated to screwing Freed senseless, but just not now. "Put on a robe or somethin', I'm gonna make ya breakfast."

Freed raised an eyebrow, but did as instructed and slowly removed himself from the bed. Once out from under the covers, Gajeel saw the man in his naked glory and smirked. Over the year, Freed had shown an interest in getting more piercings, and Gajeel had happily obliged. He had rings decorating his other ear, a stud on his nose, and a single barbell at the base of his cock. That was Gajeel's favourite. Day by day, he was turning his prince more punk.

In response, Gajeel had gotten himself some new tattoos in the shape of Freed's runes. They hadn't figured out how to implant actual runes, but the tattoos looked just the same. He now had the runic word for Dragon on his left arm, and he looked fucking kickass.

"When you said you were going to make breakfast, I hope you meant food," Freed teased gently. "Because at the moment, you look ready to eat me."

"Later, Prince," Gajeel promised, wrapping an arm around Freed.

They walked to the kitchen, and Freed sat at the table while Gajeel got to cooking. Freed mainly cooked for them both as he was better, but Gajeel was by no means bad when tasked with a meal. He also knew each and every one of Freed's guilty pleasure meals, and as such had decided to cook them both pancakes and bacon for their breakfast. They would need the energy for the rest of the day. No doubt Freed had something good planned, and then of course there was the double date dinner with Gray and Bickslow.

Apparently, according to Bickslow, they shared an anniversary, and as such had to celebrate together.

"Y' see that box on the table," Gajeel spoke over his shoulder. "Got you a present. Open it."

"I thought we agreed not to," Freed said, picking up the box.

"Yeah, I know. I had this already and thought it would be good for ya," Gajeel smiled to himself as he whisked the mixture. He heard paper ruffling behind him, and grinned when he heard Freed laugh. "Put it on. Every prince needs one, after all."

It was the wooden crown that he had carved when worrying about Freed in the forest. Once he had been sure Freed was okay, he had gone back to the forest and found where he'd left the carving. He had promised himself that, if he and Freed made it a year as a couple, he would give it to the man. By the amused expression on Freed's face, he had made the right choice.

Freed placed the crown on his head, rolling his eyes a little but smiling. Gajeel grinned and sauntered over to him. He pressed their lips together, grinning.

"Never thought I'd kiss a real prince," He teased. "Ain't I lucky."

"Not as lucky as me, I fear," Freed teased, running a hand up Gajeel's arms. When his fingers traced his runes, he stopped and smiled. "I never did tell you what this meant, did I? I suppose I was embarrassed. Would you like to know?"

"Yeah!" Gajeel exclaimed. He had always been curious.

"It means 'ownership'," Freed chuckled, and Gajeel's inner dragon leapt with joy. "It seems my magic has claimed you, Gajeel."

Gajeel grinned, wrapped Freed in his arms and kissed the hell out of him.

Yeah, life was pretty fucking good.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Furies (Mermay OT4)

Request from @angellioncosplay, fill is NSFW

The jagged edge of the harpoon slices into his tail. 

Barclay knows he’s doomed but he thrashes and tries to dive all the same. He doesn’t know what the boar above wants, doesn’t care, he just wants to go home, he has to make it back to them, please, all he wants is to see them again. 

A second barb pierces his side, blood clouds his vision. 

In the darkness below, he thinks he sees two red lights racing closer. Then the harpooners tug, and the world snaps to black.

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

“Is he stable?” Duck whispers as Aubrey swims out of Barclay’s bedroom, shutting the door behind her. 

“Yeah. I’m glad Indrid warned us when he did; if he’d lost much more blood, I’m not sure even my powers coulda helped.”

“And Joe and ‘Drid?”

“They’re gonna stay with him. I think they’re okay but, well” she sighs, shakes her head, “if that’d happened to Dani, I don’t think anything could make me leave her side.” She loops their arms together as they swim to the door, “do you wanna come stay with us? I know this is hard on them, but you had to, like, break a harpoon in half while one of your friends almost died.”

“Nah, oughta stay in case any of ‘em need somethin.”

“You want to keep Dr. Harris Bonkers for extra support?” She holds out her sea bunny.

Duck rubs it’s back, “I’ll be okay, but thanks for the offer Lady Flame. You get home safe now.”

“I will. Oh” She turns, swimming backwards as she adds, “if he needs any more healing between now and tomorrow, come get me right away!”

He promises he will, locks the house up for the night and floats into the kitchen to put it back in some kind of order. Indrid’s sketch pad and enchanted pen are still on the floor where he dropped them, Joseph’s book and Duck’s half-built model ship knocked sideways from the seer pushing away from the table in a flurry of silver and panic. And on the counter are the ingredients Barclay’d set out for dinner, the ones he was checking off when he realized he needed scallops and swam off with a promise to be right back. 

Duck sighs, jumps when something whaps at the green-glass window. 

“Jesus Winnie, thought you were in the bedroom.” He cracks the window enough to lift the octopus inside. See slowly slides off his arm, swimming across the floor to the pile of salvaged ship instruments Duck and Indrid found for her. 

“Maybe this will keep her from stealing the silverware.” Barclay plucks a knife from the cephalopods tentacle. 

Suddenly, he’s too heavy to swim. They almost lost him. 

It’s simple, really. Duck is in love with Joe and Indrid. Joe and Indrid are in love with Barclay. But that doesn’t mean Duck doesn’t love the other mer; Barclay is one of his best friends, a sympathetic ear when things go south and the only one of the four of them capable of beating Joe at Ten Shells. Barclay also understands something about Duck that escapes many of their kind; that he can love Joe, curious and meticulous from his black hair to his dapper monochrome tail, and Indrid, strange and aloof until you gave him the right kind of stroke on his silver scales, with the same intensity. It just manifests in different ways. 

Duck cracks the bedroom door open, finds the wounded mer on his back in their large, seaweed colored bed. Indrid and Joe are nestled on either side of him. Normally, they’d be an undignified, loving pile, but the bandages on his stomach and tail prevent it. 

Indrid stirs, trilling in distress. His nightmares come and go, are most often the echos of horrible futures he was forced to watch over and over. Duck has a pretty good guess as the which one is playing in his mind tonight. 

He wiggles down onto the bed, draping his arm over Indrid’s side and guiding his bony back and red fin against his chest. When Indrid registers his weight, the nervous twitches of his tail stop. Duck glances up, watches Barclay’s hand glide down the bed to hold Indrid’s own. 

Someone almost took this from them. Almost ripped away pieces of the hearts of the mers he loves most in the world. 

And he wants to know who. 

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

“Dearest, how are you feeling?”

“Fine, totally fine.” Barclay tries to sit up as a demonstration, only for his whole body to convulse. He falls back against the bed, whimpering pathetically. 

“Hmmm, I was afraid that would be the case. There were some timelines where you healed quickly, but it seems the monsters who attacked you did a great deal of damage.”

“No, no, it was just a twinge, if you give me a sec I can-”

“-You will stay in bed.” Indrid’s red gaze sharpens, “no mate of mine is going to re-open his wounds trying to make me breakfast.”

“Besides” Joseph looks up from setting all the med supplies they need in tidy stacks and lines, “it’s not like Duck or I can’t cook. You need to rest, big guy.” He swims over, strokes Barclays hair. Barclay leans into the feelings, trying to ignore the fear gnawing a new hole in his side. 

In the three days since the attack, he hasn’t been alone. His boyfriends and friend take turns sitting with him, talking when he wants to and letting him sleep when he needs, bringing him food and changing his bandages without complaint. 

It’s all wrong. That’s not their job. It shouldn’t be, that’s what they have him for. Some part of him wishes they’d been too late. Because he doesn’t want to face what’s coming. 

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

“Any luck?” 

“Some. Juno says she saw an unfamiliar hull pass by about an hour before Barclay got attacked, but she wasn’t close enough to see any details.”

“Damn it.” Joseph slams the book one human weapons in frustration, then cringes at his outburst. 

Duck swims to him, pulling him up from the chair into an embrace, “We’ll figure it out, slick. Nothin else, happen to know we got a real smart mer workin the case.” He winks, kisses Joseph on the cheek. 

He snorts, then looks at the floor, “Some part of me is worried about what will happen if we do figure out who hurt him. I...I don’t believe in violence outside of dire circumstances, but they, they nearly killed him. I’d like to say my motive in seeking them out is to make sure they can’t hurt anyone else but, well, that’s secondary at best. What I want is to make them pay.”

“That makes two of us” Indrid slithers in the door, “he’s sound asleep, not to worry. I have narrowed down our potential culprits with my visions, but I too am afraid of what I may do if I locate the humans who dared harm him.”

“I get the feelin, but right now we’re mostly borrowin trouble. Let’s wait until we know a little more before decidin whether to track ‘em down.”

Joseph nods, opens his mouth to suggest one of them retrieve dinner from the fishmonger down the block, when there’s a crash from the kitchen. 

“Damn, Winnie must’ve gotten into the cabinets again.”

Indrid blinks, then frowns, “No, that is not her doing.”

Rushing into the kitchen reveals Barclay trying to arrange food on the counter. His upper body can barely move, and his tail is unable to maintain direction due to the bandages. 

“Don’t worry about, ow, me” Barclay smiles at them, but Joseph spots panic in his eyes, “th-thought I’d do some meal prep since you’re all gonna be busy this week.”

He’s about to point out that a)they’re all capable of feeding themselves even when busy and b)Barclay’s only been recovering for a week and a half and Aubrey explicitly told him it would be at least a month before he could move around without help.

Before he can make any points at all, Indrid draws himself up to his full height, frills of his ears fanned out and gestures to the bedroom, “You will do no such thing. You need your rest, dearest.”

“But-”

“That was an order, not a request.” It’s a tone that never fails to make Joseph’s spine turn to mush, and by the flash of pink in Barclay’s tail, he feels the same way. Then his whole tail drains of color and he nods. 

“Right. Sorry. I, I didn’t mean to upset you guys.”

Indrid’s frills flatten and he swims swiftly towards the other mer, “Barclay, I’m not-”

“It’s okay. I caused enough trouble already.” He catches Indrid by the chin to kiss him, blows a second kiss Joseph’s way, then disappears into the bedroom. 

As Indrid flicks his tail nervously, Duck clears his throat, “Know I joke about him not havin a selfish bone in his body, but this is startin to get ridiculous.”

The silver-scaled mer sighs, coiling his tail around Joseph’s own and opening his arms so Duck will come give him a hug. When the three of them are close together he murmurs, “ I saw this timeline, but I had so hoped it would not be the one we ended up in. I have mentioned before that the culture Barclay and I grew up in as deep water mers is very different than what you have on the reef. One component of that was the belief that a mer who could not carry his weight in his home would not be in said home for much longer. His mate or mates not only could, but were encouraged to, throw him out to make room for a more useful partner.”

The entirety of Joseph’s stomach crawls up his throat, “He really thinks we’d do that to him?”

“I suspect so.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, “Barclay is already prone to such fears, in that he prides himself on taking care of others. And it is a deeply ingrained message and practice, so much so that there are times I still fear you three may turn me away should my powers disappear.”

“‘Drid-”

The mer purrs reassuringly, “But then I remind myself that I am not down there. I am up here, with you who love me regardless of my strength. Seeing the future helps a great deal as well; I can peek and see there are no timelines where you turn me away. Hmm” his tail taps Sterns lower back, “I wonder, is there a way we can mimic that experience for Barclay? Help him see his future here?”

Joseph gets an idea and, for the first time all day, the sense that he’s getting somewhere, “I have a plan.”

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

Barclay isn’t sure if this is some cruel joke, or if his boyfriends genuinely believe they won’t grow tired of him needing to be cared for all the time. Regardless, he doesn’t know what to do when Joseph lays beside him, kissing his cheek and shoulder as he talks about how they should go see the Kelpie migration this fall, and how he’s heard about a human beach where they serve a swim-up meal to mers and humans alike, and wouldn’t it be nice for all four of them to visit and try the food?

He doesn’t know what to do when Indrid gently sits him upright and combs his hair, jumping from topic to topic between kisses to the back of his neck but always returning to what they should do for Joseph’s birthday, or Dani and Aubrey’s anniversary, or their own anniversary.

He doesn’t know what to do right now, Indrid sitting and drawing while Joseph finishes changing the bandages on his tail. The one on his side came off a few days ago, scar tissue forming a jagged tooth of pink and white in his skin. 

Duck swims in, greeting them all at once, his usually friendly expression somber. 

“Joe, ‘Drid, could I talk to you in the kitchen? It’ll only be a minute.”

His boyfriends nod, assuring him they’ll be back even as they swim away. He wishes he could believe it, but he can think of only one reason Duck would need to talk to them alone. With a sad little groan, he rolls onto his uninjured side and pities himself to sleep. 

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

“You’re sure that’s the one?”

“Positive. Minerva had a near miss with it this mornin, described the exact same thing Barclay did. Speakin of which, we know they’re down a few harpoons because the ones they sent after her she threw right back at them.”

“A fair response if ever there was one. Do we all agree on the plan?”

“Yep”

“Yes.”

“Good” A smile that could make a sea monster afraid, “then let us begin.”

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

Winthrop lounges on the deck of the Nemo as his guests and the hired guides mill around the edges of the boat. After that run-in with the mermaid earlier today, they’re on pins and needles, hoping to see and (finally) catch another. 

Is poaching in a protected cove illegal? Only if you don’t have the money to pay the fine. Is it wrong to hunt the rare creatures that call this stretch of ocean home? Wrong is a deeply subjective concept. 

Warmth leaves the deck as clouds swirl above the sun. 

“I say, wasn’t it sunny a moment ago?”

“Yep. Could be again, provided y’all head to shore and never come back here.” A voice calls from the bow. 

Everyone races forward, shouting in excitement when they discover the merman addressing them with an oddly calm expression.

“Don’t even think about tryin to spear me. You ain’t the only ones with weapons.”

A second mer surfaces, armed with a spear gun he clearly knows how to use. 

“Joe’s a damn good shot.”

The other mer fixes them with a steely gaze, “This is your last warning. Leave this cove and never try to hunt here again.”

“Or what?”

The whole boar rocks as something massive bumps the underside. Screams draw his attention to the silver, serpentine shape gliding through the water. A red fin breaks the surface and then it’s gone. 

Then the boat nearly capsizes as it rams the port side. In the darkening waves, the monster turns it’s head to look up at them. It’s red eye is the size of a steering wheel, but he forgets all about that when the creature rears up, jaws snapping, and narrowly misses dragging his wife off the boat between butcher-knife teeth. 

“Our friend here is mighty angry with you” the first merman rubs the monster's fin as it swims by him, “in fact, he’s downright furious.”

“And it looks like he’s decided to build up some speed before hitting you this time. I don’t think your boat will survive that amount of force.”

“Alright, alright we’ll leave, we’ll go and never come back.”

A hissing screech from the monster. 

“We swear!” He says, really meaning it this time. 

The first merman points towards shore, “then get goin’.”

The boat speeds away, and Winthrop decides to never, ever look back. 

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

“That was fuckin incredible darlin’”

“Thank you” Indrid returns to his usual form, groggy but pleased, “you were both wonderful as well.”

“Never been happier that you’re so into workin out how human machines operate” Duck kisses Joseph hard, one of Indrid’s favorite sights in the whole of the sea.

 “If you like how I handle a spear gun, you should see how I handle, um, other things.”

“I am” Indrid yawns, “in favor of that idea. But first, I believe I am due for a nap, and Barclay is due for an update.”

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

“You did all that for me?” Barclay twists his fingers in the blanket beneath him, trying to sound pleasantly surprised instead of confused. From the look Joseph and Duck trade, he’s doing a shit job. 

“Well, technically we also did it to keep the reef safe from hunters, and hopefully start a legend that will keep any like-minded poachers from coming within fifty miles of our home. Or our family. And yes, dearest, that includes you.” In the darkened bedroom, deep purple shimmers up Indrid’s tail. A signal to obey.

“I, I never said it didn’t.”

“Yes, but it has been on your mind for weeks.”

“I…”

“Barclay” Joseph settles beside him, taking his hand, “Indrid told us about what you two were taught about needing care or being helpless. I, we, none of us want you thinking that’s what will happen here. I promise.”

He doesn’t realize he’s crying, not until Indrid whispers “hush now, dear one” and carefully rests their tails together so that the wound is left untouched.

“I, I thought saying it would make it worse. Make you think I needed reassurance, which would just make it clear how useless I am. I, I know that sounds ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous to feel vulnerable or scared after something traumatic.” Joseph traces his fingers up and down his arm and his scales ripple in reply. 

“Nor to feel off-balance when you are unable to do what you usually do.”

“But you gotta tell us next time.” Duck rests next to Joseph, “we care about you, all three of us, but we can’t help if we don’t know what’s wrong.”

He flashes apologetic yellow, “You’re right. I’ll, I’m gonna try to be better about that. It’s just hard for me to let other mers take care of me sometimes.”

The purple returns to Indrid’s tail, and when he turns to look at Barclay his smile is no longer gentle and ethereal. It’s almost tangible enough to slice his chest and send everything he wants pouring onto the bed. 

“It seems to me, my dear one, that you could use some practice in that area.”

“Yes” he murmurs, then yips when Indrid bites his throat, “I mean yes, sir.”

“Much better. After all, your convalescence has made such things difficult until now. And yes, Joseph, I will keep an eye on the futures to be certain no one is hurt. Speaking of which: Duck, please adjust so Barclay’s head is in your lap. You’ll need to hold his shoulders down should he try and disobey me.”

A shift of the bed and then his head rests on mottled green scales. 

“Hey” He smiles up and Duck sends a crooked grin his way, setting more pink off in his tail. He may not want to fuck him, but Barclay’s not about to deny how handsome Duck can be.

This rumination distracts him from Indrid and Joseph’s conversation, so he’s pleasantly surprised when the black-tailed mer catches his lips in a kiss. It’s precise, down with calculated care that always makes him feel like the most interesting, important thing in the world. 

“That’s it big guy, relax for us.”

“I’, I’m tryINGfuck, it’s, it’s kinda hard when Indrid is doing that.”

Indrid chuckles, continues teasing the scales in his upper tail, “Shall I stop?”

“No, please no-”

“Please what?” His slit opens at the steel in Indrid’s voice. 

“Please sir.”

“Good boy. Ah, and here’s that lovely cock of yours. What shall I do with it, hmmm?”

“Anything you want sir.” He tries not to giggle as Joseph nibbles his ear.

“I was not asking you.” Indrid cocks his head at Duck.

“Huh” Duck toys with Barclays hair, “think I wanna see you suck it. Been too damn long since you had a dick in your mouth that wasn’t mine.”

Indrid licks his lips and then Barclay’s moans fill the bedroom as his boyfriend lovingly sucks the head of his cock. 

“Is now the time to mention he sucked me off yesterday while you were at work?” Joseph smiles up at Duck, though his hand is busy teasing Barclay’s nipples. 

Duck growls, “and you didn’t even give an encore where I could watch. Mighty rude of you. Both of you.”

“Don’t blame me” Indrid jerks Barclay off with one hand and fingers his slit with the other, “you know how needy our pet gets.”

“True. Guess I’ll have to put him in his place.” Duck looks down at Barclay, gaze soft in spite of his tone, “not tonight though. Tonight his job is to take care of you.”

“Speaking of which” Joseph turns his face into another kiss just as Indrid’s mouth envelopes his cock once again. He moans and whimpers between those perfect lips, a month of not even being able to touch himself meaning his body is already being dragged towards orgasm. His hand finds Joseph’s tail, petting it enticingly. 

“If you AHnnnfuck, lay perpendicular babe, I can suck you off without hurting myself.”

Joseph glances at Indrid, who pulls off of Barclay’s cock and shakes his head, “Not tonight, dearest.”

He whimpers, tries to lift his head, use his tongue to tease Joseph’s retreating tail, only or Duck to hold him firmly in place. 

“I know, sweet one, you do so love being inside our pet, whether with that talented tongue, those skillful hands, or this sinful thing.” He gives a final jerk, then uses his tail to guide Joseph into his former position, “And I would never deny you that pleasure. He’s such a good little pet after all.” He kisses Joseph posessively, then glides behind him and sets his hands on his waist, “which is why I am going to fuck him on you. I will control his movements, so as to avoid aggravating your injury.”

“And because you get off on it.” Duck adds.

“That too.”

“AHfuck!” Barclay’s whole tail lights up purple for an instant as Indrid shoves Joseph down onto his cock. He might submit to Indrid, but Joseph is the mer in the sea he most wants to claim, to fuck until he’s begging for more.

“Nghnshit, shit that’s so good big guy, fuck I missed this.”

“Ahem.” 

“Thank you Indridoh, ohohohohfuck.” Joseph’s hands scrabble on Barclay’s tail as Indrid bounces him up and down. He looks so handsome like this, cock hard and slit swallowing Barclay to the hilt, dark hair loose and framing his head like a crown. 

Barclay reaches for him, desperate for a touch, but Duck holds him down.

“Thank you, love, if he had moved just then he would have hurt himself.”

“Don’t care” Barclay growlwhines, “Joseph, babe, wanna touch you so bad.”

“You’ll get to, big guy, there’ll be plenty of chances after this.”

He growls, teeth clenched as the riptide of his orgasm pulls at him. 

“It’s okay big fella, you can let go. We’ve got you.” Duck’s voice, as soothing as the hand he scritches down his scalp. 

“Fuck” is all he gets out before Indrid pushes Joseph down and Barclay spurts up into him with moan. 

“Better, big guy?” Joseph’s smile is as dazzling as ever. 

“Uh huh.” His bones are mud, his eyes heavy, and he feels better than he has all month. 

“Good. Come, let me look you over and hold you. Duck and Joseph will join us shortly.”

“But I thoughtAHfuck” is all he hears before the sound of Duck frantically fucking Joseph fills one half of the room, his boyfriends moan switching from charming to mouthwatering as Duck keeps fucking him after he’s cum. 

Indrid builds them a nest on the other side of the bed, guides him into it to comb his hair and rub his aching shoulders, humming as he does. Eventually, Duck swims over to join them, Joseph more floating than swimming in his embrace. 

“How do you feel, big guy?”

“Good. Really, really good.” He closes his eyes, safe in the knowledge that his home and family will still be his when he wakes up.

Then he opens them again.

“Wait, so what the fuck did you actually do to the guy who harpooned me?”

[omgreally]

The Apprentice Read on AO3 Pairing: Din Djarin/F!Reader Rating: E for Explicit, Soon Wordcount: 9k+ Summary: Peli Motto took you off the streets of Tatooine to become one of the best apprentices she’s ever had - but honestly, the DUM droids are setting the bar pretty low. Still, you work out well for the first few months until an armored Mandalorian stranger lands with a busted-up ship and a strange magic baby and, well, you’re intrigued. Even though you know you shouldn’t be. Peli’s always teling you to keep away from anything hot but sometimes, to fix something, you have to stick your hand straight into the fire.

Chapter Three - Second Thoughts

You sit on the ground across from the blazing fire as the Treadwell droids fries the gorgs on the flame generated by the old podracing engine. The suns have long since slipped below the horizon, and the night sky is filled with stars like a dark blanket poked with holes and thrown over a lamp. 

“You ever been offworld, Peli?” You wonder as you gaze upwards. You don’t think about it much, what’s up there - you’ve only ever been concerned with what’s down here and the more immediate need for survival. But the more time you spend on ships that soar back and forth between the stars, the more you wonder what it’s like.

“Space travel?” Peli snorts, ripping off a hunk of jerky for herself and handing a smaller piece to Grogu in her lap. “It’s a waste of time, kiddo. Keeps me in business, though, so I don’t complain. But the hotshots out there, zoomin’ around between planets, never feelin’ the dirt beneath their feet - they complain plenty. Makes me wonder why they do it.”

“What about him?” You nod towards the dark, silent Razor Crest. Mando hasn’t joined you yet. You’re beginning to doubt that he will.

“Who knows? Only thing he seems to care about is this little guy.” She jiggles Grogu on her knee.

“It’s...his child?” you ask slowly, almost afraid of the answer.

“Nah. Don’t think so, anyway. But he’s a part of his clan, so he’ll protect him, see? That’s how Mandalorians are.” She cocks her head. “I think. All I know is I’ve seen him kill without hesitation to protect this little one, and he’ll do anythin’ for him. Anythin’.” Peli emphasizes this with a pointed forefinger, one that Grogu grabs and starts to chew on. “Ow! Hungry little womprat, aren’tcha? Here, have some more o’ this.”

“That almost sounds...noble,” you muse aloud. Peli, only half-listening, chuckles.

“You try tellin’ him that. Hey, where are you goin’?”

“I told him I’d bring him some dinner,” you say as you get to your feet and fill a plate with meat, fruit and jerky.

“You like him, don’t you?”

You stop, half-turning to her in the flickering firelight. You expect to see a smirk, or a grimace, but Peli’s expression is just...curious. Grogu is looking at you too, and you wonder how much the little creature understands.

“He’s...interesting,” you say. “And attractive.” Why lie? Peli’s always been able to see straight through you.

The woman sighs, leaning back. “Just...be careful, Girl, won’t you? Believe it or not, I’ve gotten used to havin’ you around. And you’re a damn sight more useful than the droids.”

You shift from foot to foot. “What are you trying to say, ma’am?”

“I’m just sayin’...It’s like he’s got his own gravitational pull. Try not to fall into his orbit.” She strokes the ears of the child in her lap and presses her lips together into an expression of resignation when she meets your eyes. 

She already knows. And she can see it in you.

Her smile is wry, and a little sad when she adds, "You’ll end up burnin’ up.”

You’re not sure what to say to that, so you say nothing. You walk away, deep in thought, your steps taking you slowly, inexorably towards the ship. Maybe there’s something to what Peli’s saying. It’s like you just can’t help yourself.

It’s like you don’t even want to.

The side ramp is still down, and you wonder briefly if the actuator has broken again - you’ll have to check tomorrow. The sound of your boots on the gangway seem unnaturally loud, but you knock on the frame of the hatch anyway to announce your presence, peering into the dim interior.

“Mando?”

No answer. You make your way further into the hold, but catch no sight of him. “Mando?” you call again. 

This was a stupid idea, you decide. You’ll just leave the plate somewhere and go. You're in the middle of looking for an appropriate flat surface where he’ll find it when his voice drifts down from the cockpit - “Up here.”

There’s still time to just leave the food and go, you think. But of course, you don’t. You move further into the belly of the beast. Balancing the plate in one hand, you haul yourself up the ladder with the other. Somehow, you manage to get up to the cockpit without flinging food everywhere.

The bridge of the ship is even darker than before, the standby lights filling the space with an eerie, blinking glow. It makes the Mandalorian blend into the durasteel background, so that when he gets up from the pilot’s seat, you jump, nearly tripping backwards - but he’s on his feet and has caught the plate in one hand and your elbow in the other before you even register the movement.

“Sorry,” you mutter, staring into the visor. “I didn’t see you.”

“It’s okay,” he says, letting you go - you feel the absence of his touch more keenly than you might have if you'd gotten more time in the sanisteam earlier. You watch him as he perches on the edge of a control panel to examine the contents of his plate, gloved fingers picking through the jerky and crisped pieces of meat.

“It’s not much, but we were a little strapped for credits when I went to the market this morning,” you explain. “I’ll go out and get more tomorrow-”

“It’s fine. Thank you.” Still, he sets the plate aside, and you frown. If it’s fine, why isn’t he eating- Oh.

You turn, your face burning. “Sorry, I forgot. I’ll leave you to eat.” You step towards the hatch, and the ladder that leads to safety.

“Wait.”

The single word stops you in your tracks, and you stand there, frozen. You can’t hear him move, but you know that he’s behind you - you can feel the heat from his body and the coolness of the Beskar both warring for space at your back. You don’t turn around.

“Are you afraid of me?”

That’s definitely not what you expected him to ask. If you expected anything. You do turn now, slowly, coming face-to-face with his breastplate mere inches from your nose, and you have to tilt your chin up to look up at his visor. At the edge of the helmet, you can see the fabric of his cowl disappearing upward, and you wonder what color his hair is under there - if he has hair. It’s so hard to think of him as human, looking at the silver outer shell, and that more than anything else is terrifying. And exciting.

“Yes,” you say, your voice little more than a whisper. 

He reaches out and touches a tendril of your hair, still damp from the sanisteam. He brushes it gently, ever-so-gently, over your cheek and tucks it back behind your ear. His knuckles linger by your temple. You’ve long since stopped breathing.

“Good,” he says then. “Fear keeps you smart. Keeps you from doing something stupid.”

It’s like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking, every moment you’ve been alone together. You swallow heavily around the sudden lump in your throat, resisting the urge to grab onto something - maybe him - to keep yourself upright, centered. 

“Like what?”  you rasp instead, trying to moisten your lips with the tip of your tongue, but your mouth is too dry for that. The helmet tracks the movement.

“I don’t want to give you any ideas.”

“I already have a few,” you say, breathing in a chuckle. You feel detached, as if this conversation isn’t really happening. Not in your reality.

“How old are you?”

That question stops you for a moment, and you have to think. “Oh...Galactic calendar? Twenty, at least...twenty-something, maybe. I lost track for a few years.”

“Twenty.” You hear him breathe in through the modulator, and he reaches out, a gloved finger tracking the visible indent of your collarbone from the open V of your coveralls. “You’re smart, for someone so young.”

You’re pretty sure wanting to fuck a Mandalorian isn’t that smart, but you don’t voice that thought. Not yet, anyway. 

“I’ve had to be,” you tell him, voice low, like you’re confessing a secret. “Out here, you don’t survive if you’re not smart.”

Mando nods slowly, seeming almost - understanding? Sympathetic? Maybe you’re imagining it. It’s too easy to ascribe emotions to the blankness of the Beskar. He could be making faces at you from behind that mask for all you know. He could just be toying with you to pass the time.

But something tells you that he’s not. And that scares you the most of all.

“I should go,” you say softly, and there’s a small moment of hesitation - just a second or two, but enough that you notice it - before he nods again.

You step back from him, towards the hatch, your eyes on the visor until the very last moment you turn around to swing yourself onto the ladder. You’re halfway down before his voice drifts to you.

“Goodnight, Girl.”

“Night, Mando,” you murmur, smiling to yourself as you climb down the rest of the way. 

There’s a spring in your step as you leave the Razor Crest behind, one that Peli doesn’t miss as you pass her on the way to your room.

“Remember what I told you, Girl!” she calls after you. You wave a dismissive, slightly rude offworlder gesture in her direction, but not too obviously.

“Goodnight, Peli!”

“See you’re up with the suns tomorrow! We got a lot of work to do!” she yells, but you’re already gone, shutting the door behind you as you head inside.

You debate going for another shower, but Peli will tell you off for using all the water, so you go to bed instead. You say ‘bed’ - really it’s just a cot shoved into a corner in one of the storage rooms, housed between crates of spare parts. You don’t mind it. The smell of metal and lubricant has long since ceased being an unpleasant one, and it’s of particular comfort tonight

You try to sleep imagining it’s Beskar surrounding you, smooth and cool beneath your fingers. You picture a pair of gloved hands on your shoulders, your arms, your belly, and your skin warms to your own touch. Your hands aren’t as wide, your fingers not as long, but in the absence of any others, they do the job.

You come gasping into the gloom, picturing the inscrutable darkness of a T-shaped visor boring into you.  And then you sleep, only half-sated, somehow more restless than ever.

You get the feeling things are only going to get worse before they get better.

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