#Thinkin' about House. 'Tricks what about him?' Yeah.

[hyperionshipping]

Need more parental f/o content

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers CHAOS LINEAGE ー Subaru [07]

ー The scene starts in the hallway of the Violet Manor

*CLANG*

Ayato: Fuck! We’re not gettin’ anywhere like this!

I don’t like havin’ to rely on cheap tricks like this, but I guess I have no other choice if I want to steal Eve away.

*Rustle*

Subaru: What is he holdin’...?

...! Oi, get down on the floor!

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah...! W-What!?

Subaru: It’s a bomb! Fuck! I didn’t know he had a trick like that up his sleeve!

Oi, don’t stand there frozen in place but get away! Before the next bomb comes flyin’ our way!

Yui: ...!?

( I have to run! But how? My body won’t move...! )

Ayato: Orah! Here comes the next one!

Subaru: Watch out...!

*Thud*

*BOOM*

Subaru: Ow...!

( I managed to protect her from the bomb, but my whole body’s covered in wounds... )

Yui: Subaru-kun...? I’m so sorry, Subaru-kun! Don’t tell me you protected me...!?

Subaru: Fuck...

Yui: Are you alright!? You’re badly wounded...!

Ayato: ...Che. You’re still not dead?

Subaru: Oi, Ayato! Have you lost your fuckin’ mind!? What were you thinkin’, throwin’ those at Eve!?

If she dies, kuh...

( She dies...? )

ー Subaru starts remembering

Yui: What’s wrong, Subaru-kun? Are you okay? Hang in there...!

Subaru: ( No, she can’t! I definitely won’t let her die! )

ー He continues to have flashbacks of his past memories

Subaru: ーー Uu...

Yui: What’s the matter? Do your wounds hurt...!?

Subaru: ...Uu...That’s not...it...

( I told myself that I would love her forever. )

( She agreed to that as well, and that’s how... )

*Riiiing*

Subaru: ( Damnit! What are these strange images? I shouldn’t know this place, yet it seems familiar... )

*Riiiing*

*SHATTER*

Subaru: Aah, aaaah!!

Yui: Subaru-kun...?

Subaru: ...Haah...Haah.

...You’re not Eve...

Your name...isn’t Eve...

You’re not Eve, right...!? Yui...!

Yui: ...!

Subaru: I promise that at the very least...

I’ll keep you...safe...

ー He collapses

*Thud*

Yui: Subaru-kun!?

Subaru-kun, hang in there! Please, open your eyes...!

Subaru: ...

Hah...I can hear you, no need to shout like that...

I’m right here. So don’t cry, ‘kay...?

Yui: Yeah, I know. You’re here with me. Hey, since you called my name earlier...

*Boom*

Yui: ( Another explosion!? But it came from where Ayato-kun is, didn’t it...!? )

Subaru: Damnit! These footsteps...The enemies have gathered here?

I can’t be saved at this point, but you should make a run for it...!

Yui: No way, I can’t do that! I could never leave you behind...!

???: Exactly! We have to bring both of you to safety~

Yui: ( The enemy’s already here...!? But this voice is... )

Subaru: Kou...

Kou: Ding-Ding! Spot on! Kou-kun to the rescue~!

Are you alright, Subaru-kun?

Laito: Oh? You don’t see Subaru-kun taken down and covered in blood like that every day.

Azusa: Sorry for...taking so long. I’m glad...we made it on time...But you’re injured...

Yui: He protected me from Ayato-kun’s attack...Speaking of which, where is Ayato-kun!?

Kou: Aah, Ayato-kun’s taking a little break over on the floor after getting hit by our bomb attack. ...Wait, he got back up already.

*Rustle*

Ayato: Shit...! Fuck off, you bastards!

Laito: Wow~ What a tough cookie.

Azusa: Laito and I will stop him...Kou, you take care of Subaru...

Kou: Yeah, gotcha. Eve, can you update me on his condition?

Yui: He took a bomb for me. He was still conscious up till now, but he seems to have passed out now...

Subaru: ...

Kou: I see. ...Honestly, these injuries aren’t looking good.

Yui: No way...

Kou: Anyway, you should run away with me while Azusa-kun and Laito-kun are keeping Ayato busy!

Yui: But Subaru-kun is...!

Kou: Don’t worry! I’ll carry him, no problem!

If I lift him into my arms bridal-style...He’ll probably yell at me for it later soーー

*Rustle*

Kou: I’ll run while carrying him on my back like this! Come on, you can run as well, right?

Yui: Yeah! Thanks, Kou-kun!

Monologue

The people from the Orange House

launched an attack on the Violet manorーー

This is not just another brotherly quarrel,

I simply cannot forget about the look in Subaru-kun and Ayato-kun’s eyes,

as they faced off against each other.

Thanks to Kou-kun who came to our rescue,

we somehow managed to carry an unconscious Subaru-kun,

back to his room.

Afterwards I found out,

that due to Carla-san, Laito-kun and Azusa-kun’s efforts,

they were successful,

in driving off the Orange House.

Peace and quiet returned to the Violet manor.

However, Subaru-kun has remained in a deep slumber,

not having opened his eyes even once ever since.

ー The scene shifts to Subaru’s room in the Violet manor

Yui: ( Even though the others are saying his wounds aren’t fatal, he’s been asleep the whole time. )

( What will I do if he never wakes up again? )

( ...It’s my fault. Because I held him back at that time. )

( I’m positive he wouldn’t have gotten this badly injured if he didn’t have to worry about also keeping me safe while fighting. )

I’m sorry, Subaru-kun.

I truly regret doing this to you.

...Besides, if I had managed to convince everyone of the weird shenanigans going onーー 

Then perhaps you guys would have never fought at all. 

I’m so sorry. I should have tried harder to look for a way to return to our old World...

ー She grabs hold of his hand

Yui: Subaru-kun’s hands are so big...These are the hands which protected me.

Not just since we came here, but for the longest time.

Subaru: ...Ugh.

Yui: ( His hand, just now...I believe the hand I grabbed moved a little just now! )

Subaru-kun, can you hear me, perhaps?

Hey, Subaru-kun...

*Rustle* 

Subaru: ...Nn...

Pipe down...I can hear you just fine, no need to shout my name over and over.

Yui: Subaru-kun! You’re awake!

Thank god...! I’m so glad you’ve regained consciousness!

Subaru: God, don’t cry.

I’ve told you before, haven’t I? It takes more than this to kill a Vampire. 

Yui: Before...?

( He hasn’t told me that at this place, has he? )

Right, when you protected me, you said my name...didn’t you?

I was quite shaken up back then as well, so at first I thought that perhaps I imagined it but...

Subaru: You’re not imagining anything, Yui.

...My bad. For forgetting about you.

Yui: Subaru-kun...!

Subaru: Seems like the other guys haven’t realized that something is off either.

It must have been lonely, right? Left all on our own.

Selection

→ The anxiety drove me crazy (🖤)

Yui: Yeah...I didn’t know what to do, it drove me absolutely crazy.

Subaru: Makes sense. I’m sorry, truly...

Yui: But now that you have your memories back, I feel relieved.

I won’t have to worry about how to tackle this strange situation all by myself no longer.

→ Don’t apologize (♡)

Yui: Please, Subaru-kun, don’t apologize.

I have no idea why all of this is happening to us.

But you haven’t done anything wrong, have you? If anything, you kept me safe.

Subaru: ...But I gotta say sorry or else it’ll haunt me forever.

Yui: Sounds very much like you.

Subaru: The fact that I couldn’t be there for you when you needed it the most pisses me off immensely.

I’m hella mad at myself for just losin’ like my memories like that.

Yui: I’m not alone anymore now. That alone is incredibly reassuring.

Besides, you got your memories back...I’m super happy you’ll treat me as your girlfriend again.

Subaru: ...I feel as if a pressure has been lifted off me as well.

While my memories were still jumbled up, I got really irritated whenever the other guys would come after you.

I guess it only makes sense. Somewhere in the very back of my mind, I remembered that I didn’t want to lose you.

ー Subaru embraces her

*Rustle*

Subaru: You are mine. Right?

Yui: ...Yes, exactly.

Fufu...It feels like forever since you last held me in your arms like this.

I’m so happy, my heart’s racing.

Subaru: Don’t tempt me too much...by sayin’ those sort of things. Don’t blame me for the consequences.

Yui: I don’t care. ...Right now, I just want to be with you. I felt lonely for the longest time after all.

Subaru: ...Yeah, makes sense.

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Subaru-kun....He’s hugging me so tight, I almost can’t breathe. )

( I guess he’s trying to make up for my loneliness. )

( I’m sure he feels sorry for everything he did while he could not remember me. )

( I love how he’s kind like that. )

Subaru: Say, Yui?

Yui: ...Yes?

Subaru: Let me suck your blood. I’ll make you feel amazing to make up for all the sadness you had to endure.

So, you don’t mind, right?

Yui: ...Sure, go ahead.

I kind of want you to suck my blood as well. Perhaps it’ll help your injuries heal faster as well.

Subaru: Yeah, maybe.

*Rustle*

Subaru: Come on, I’ll suck from your shoulder. Haah, this sweet scent is something else. I won’t be able to hold back...Nn.

ー Subaru bites her

Yui: ...Ah.

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“What? Does it feel that good? Then better hold on me tight so you don’t fall over.”

“Mmh...I feel ecstatic too. I can’t get enough of knowing that I’m makin’ you feel good.”

Subaru: Nn...Nnh, nguh...

Yui: ( He’s...sucking my blood... )

( He’s being so much more gentle than ever before... )

Subaru: Nhaah...Hah, how’s that? Does it feel good to experience my fangs for the first time in a while?

Yui: Yeah, it feels good...

Subaru: Then hold onto that feeling. We’re still nowhere near done yet. I gotta make up for all of the lost time.

Hah, nnh...Nn...Phew...

*Rustle*

Yui: Aah...!

( Even though he’s sucking intensely, I can tell that he’s being mindful of me. )

( Almost as if he’s trying to swallow away all loneliness and worry I felt at the same time. )

( Subaru-kun, Subaru-kun...! )

( The real Subaru-kun has finally come back! )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[starletbun]

summer of juniper and hazel

prev/next

transcript below

Elio: First, the jet lag and now a novela playing out in front of me.

Damion: And you are?

Elio: Elio Adrián Ramos. Charmed, I’m sure. Since you're family, I’ll give you all free autographs.

Damion: Um, no need... So you're the pretty boy that Billie mentioned?

Elio: And you’re the long-lost brother she’s excited to meet; unfortunately, she’s exhausted from our travels.

Damion: She said you were good with kids, right?

Elio: Oh yeah, I love them. Honestly, we have serious baby fever, but Billie wants to wait a little longer, maybe until after her serious movie wraps up.

Juniper: So he’s the actor Wendy B. likes?

Hazel: Looks like it! Now we can brag at Preston’s stupid face.

Juniper: I don’t think Preston would care...

Elio: You’re a rancher? That’s honestly the dream, just you, your horse, the farm, and nothing but the summer breeze.

Damion: You think so?

Juniper: [Whispering] Um, hey, Pa? Um tio...?

Elio: Of course, thinking of getting a farm by Chestnut Ridge or even all the way In Henford one of these days.

Hazel: Hiya Mister. I’mma rancher too!

Elio: Oh, and who might you be?

Hazel: I’m Hazel, and my sister Juniper is over there! We’re experienced ranchers! The best in all of Chestnut Ridge, Sherrif Eliza says so!

Elio: Experienced and with references? Now, those are mentors I trust. Think you can teach an old city boy like me a few tricks?

Hazel: Of course! My pa can help, too! Our ranch is small, but it’s the best we got our horse, Sunny, and our dog, Honey. Mister Pancakes is watching him right now.

Elio: Looks like my future ranch is in good hands then.

Hazel: You can count on us!

Hazel: I like Mama’s house. It’s so cozy. Are we gonna explore the town tomorrow?

Damion: Ain’t much to explore kid, we got a diner, a cafe, park, the new rec center.

Juniper: A rec center?

Damion: There’s also this abandoned mine, where your tias and I used to hang out as teenagers.

Hazel: Ooo let’s go there!

Damion: No way Missy. Way too dangerous, especially for little rascals like you.

Juniper: We’ll be good!!

Damion: You too?

Hazel: See, even Junie wants to go!

Damion: No, end of story. If y’all want to go out and play, we can talk you guys to the park. I am not having you guys breath in possibly toxic dust.

Hazel: Come on, Pa. I’m sure Junie’s super alien powers can help her, right, Junie?

Juniper: Do we have to go out?.

Damion: Juniper, I know you’re nervous, but you need-

Juniper: It's not that. I just keep thinkin ‘bout what Preston told sissy. I know you said family still loves each other no matter what, but whatabout the other kids? I just wanna be normal like everyone else...

Damion: No one is normal, Junebug. We all have something that makes us different. You’re special because of who you are. I think you're forgetting that being an alien is just a small part of you. You’re also forgetting that you’re a kind and smart girl.

Hazel: Besides, that was just dumb, Preston. If they think you’re weird, then they are the weird ones. You’re pretty cool for a scaredy-cat.

Damion: Hazel, we don't speak about others that way.

Hazel: Not if it’s Preston.

Juniper: But what if they're right? Am I weird? What if no one wants to be my friend all cause of stupid Preston.

Damion: Hmm, okay, how can I say this and sound wise... [clicks tongue] There's going to be many people who don't understand you and don't want to. But that doesn't mean you have to let their words hurt you. You'll always have your family to help you.

Damion: And if anyone asks, you don't have to say anything you're not comfortable with. Just be yourself.

Damion: [Vo] Always remember, you’re a part of this family, and we love you just the way you are. And I know there’s people out there who will love you and understand you just like we do.

Juniper: [Vo, sniffling] Thanks papa.

Damion: [Vo] Feel better?

Juniper: [Vo] Yeah.

[breedaboyd]

Teaching an Old Dog New Tricks - Mo Lundy

Pairing: Mo Lundy × GN!Reader.

Word Count: 3,331.

CW: Body worship, first times, implied past self-harm, premature ejaculation

Summary: Mohamed is struggling after his release from prison, that is until he meets you. Then his struggles only seem to intensify as he deals with emotions he hasn't felt for over a decade.

You can also read the longer version on AO3, here.

The night is quiet, the city enveloped in a hushed stillness. Mo tosses and turns on his mattress, his mind a tempest of thoughts he can't seem to escape. The feelings he has for you have grown more intense, consuming his thoughts and keeping him awake. He's never experienced anything quite like this and the uncertainty of it all leaves him restless. With a heavy sigh, he reaches for his flip-phone on the nightstand, his fingers fumbling slightly as he dials your number. The call goes through and he waits anxiously as it rings on the other end.

'Hello?' Your voice, soft yet awake, sounds like a lifeline to him.

"Hey. It's me. It's Mo." His voice cracks a bit, betraying his restlessness. "Sorry to call so late." You hear the unease in his tone, and concern immediately washes over you.

'Is everything okay?' You ask and he exhales shakily, his heart pounding in his chest.

"I…I can't sleep. And I can't stop thinkin' about you. It's drivin' me crazy." There's a pause and then you respond with a gentle reassurance that warms his anxious heart.

'It's okay. Want me to come over?' His relief is palpable and he stammers out his response.

"Y-Yeah, please. I know it's late and I'm sorry for wakin' you up." You can hear the genuine worry in his voice and your heart softens at the thought of him struggling.

'Don't apologise. I'll be there soon.' You say and Mo gives you his address, his voice soft and grateful.

The moonlight casts a soft glow on Mo's front porch as you arrive at his house. You hear the faint sound of crickets and the rustling of leaves, a serene backdrop to the moment. Mo opens the door, a mixture of relief and gratitude in his eyes as he greets you. He stands in the doorway, a looming figure, in a pair of worn-out, old boxers and a stained, white vest.

"Hey, thanks for comin'." He says softly, his voice tinged with apology. You smile gently, stepping inside.

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay." You tell him, toeing off your shoes by the door. He closes the door behind you, his fingers curling around the doorknob as if he's still unsure.

"I really appreciate it. 'M sorry for callin' you over so late." He says softly but you shake your head, your concern evident.

"Don't worry about it. I'm here because I want to be. So, what's the problem?" Mo's gaze meets yours, his eyes holding a depth of emotions he struggles to put into words. He takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he's about to say.

"I…I can't sleep. And I've been feeling things…so intensely. I've tried to put it into words, to write it down, but I can't explain it properly." Your heart goes out to him, understanding his frustration. You take a step closer, your voice gentle as you place a hand on his large bicep.

"It's okay, Mo. Just tell me what you're feeling." You tell him and he runs a hand through his hair, his gaze flickering as he searches for the right words.

"When I'm around you, it's like…everythin' else fades away. I've never felt like this before. But at the same time, it's comfortin'. You feel like home to me, like maybe… Maybe it won't be so bad being on the outside." Your heart skips a beat at his words, your own emotions swirling within you. The vulnerability in his confession resonates deeply and you reach out, gently taking his large, warm hands in his. His eyes meet yours, his gaze a mixture of gratitude and yearning. And then, before he can say anything else, you lean in and press your lips to his. The kiss is soft, a quiet exchange of emotions that need no words. Mo's initial surprise gives way to a sense of peace, as if your touch has grounded him, quieted the storm within. As the kiss deepens, his strong arms encircle you, pulling you closer as if he never wants to let go. Eventually, you part and there's a beat of silence.

Mo's expression is a mix of vulnerability and longing, his eyes tracing your features as if trying to memorise every detail. His hands, strong and trembling ever so slightly, hover near your sides, as if he's afraid to touch you and yet can't resist the pull. He hesitates for a split second, and then he closes the remaining distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that's both eager and desperate. His kiss is a revelation, a confession of everything he's been struggling to understand and express. Your fingers instinctively curl into his vest, the fabric bunching in your grip as you respond to the kiss. Mo's lips move against yours with a fervour, his hesitance replaced by a raw need that's been building within him. He holds you as if he's afraid you might slip away. When the kiss finally breaks, your breathing is uneven, your hearts pounding in sync. Mo gazes into your eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his expression a mix of vulnerability and relief. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle yet possessive. "I…I don't know what…that was." He murmurs, his voice a mixture of apology and wonder. You smile softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

"I think…I love you." You murmur softly, breaths coming hot and heavy in the limited space between you. Mo's eyes widen, surprise mingling with something else; something warm and wonderful. Before he can respond, your fingers curl into the fabric of his vest again and you draw him into another fierce kiss. It's a kiss that speaks volumes. He responds with equal eagerness. When the kiss finally breaks, both of you are breathless, your eyes locked onto each other's with a newfound understanding. Mo's gaze is filled with a mix of wonder and gratitude, as if he can't believe that someone like you would feel this way about him.

"Y-You have no idea how much…that means to me." he stammers, his voice laced with emotion. You reach out, cupping his cheek in your hand, your touch gentle yet filled with conviction as you feel the prickle of his beard against your palm. It's as if the weight he's been carrying since leaving prison has lifted, replaced by a warmth that radiates from within. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "You make me feel…at peace."

Mo gently pulls you into his modest bedroom. The air is charged with a potent blend of anticipation and desire, a tension that's been building between you two for far too long. The door closes behind you, the world outside seemingly fading away, leaving only the two of you in this private, intimate space. His gaze meets yours, eyes heavy with a mixture of emotions that are almost too much to put into words. His fingers brush against yours, a silent yet eloquent invitation. Without another word, he steps closer, his hands coming to rest on your waist, his touch warm and steady. Your breath catches as his proximity sends shivers down your spine. The need in his eyes is mirrored in your own. Without breaking eye contact, Mo's fingers slowly trace a path up your sides, making your skin break out in goosebumps.

"This okay?" His voice is a low, husky whisper, a question that holds more weight than words can convey. Your heart pounds in your chest, your own voice betraying your eagerness.

"Yeah, it's…perfect." His lips curl into a small smile and he draws you even closer, the heat of his body seeping into yours. The sensation is intoxicating and you find your fingers threading through the fabric of his vest, your hands craving the touch of his skin against your own. Warm, strong hands slide up your back, his touch igniting a fire wherever it goes. As his fingers tangle in your hair, he tilts your head slightly, his lips descending upon yours in a kiss that's as tender as it is eager. The world outside disappears and all that remains is the taste of him on your lips, the urgency of his touch. His kisses trail down your jawline, a trail of warmth that sends your heart racing. Your breath hitches as his lips find the sensitive spot just below the corner of your jaw, his warm breath fanning down your neck. His fingers work slowly, undoing buttons and zippers until the fabric that separates you is nothing but a memory.

A hushed silence falls between you and you both stand before each other, bare and vulnerable. The soft glow of the moonlight through the window paints your skin in cool hues, casting stark shadows that seem to amplify the raw beauty of the moment. Mo's gaze sweeps over you, his eyes a mixture of awe and adoration. He takes in the soft curves of your body, the delicate lines and contours that make you unique. His hands, rough and calloused from years of hard work, tremble slightly as if he's afraid to touch you. Your heart races as his gaze lingers on your body, his eyes tracing the path of your scars. You can sense his desire, his longing to understand every part of you, both the visible and the hidden. Mo's own body is a canvas that tells a story of hardship and resilience. His muscular frame exudes strength, his broad chest and powerful arms a testament to the challenges he's faced. Scars pepper his skin, souvenirs from his time in prison. And yet, there's a tenderness in the way he holds himself, a gentleness that belies the strength he possesses. Your eyes meet his, and you see something in his gaze; a deep appreciation for who you are, scars and all.

Mo's fingers brush against the scars on your arms, his touch gentle and reverent. He traces the lines as if he's committing every detail to memory, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and affection. And then, as if he can't contain his emotions any longer, he slowly lifts your arm and presses a soft kiss to one of the long, pale scars. As you gaze at each other, the weight of your pasts and the scars you carry is met with understanding and acceptance. In this moment, the physical imperfections become a part of the story you're sharing, a testament to the strength and resilience that brought you both to this moment. The mattress beckons. With a mixture of urgency and reverence, you find yourselves sinking onto it, bodies pressed together in a symphony of longing and need.

His eyes hold a mixture of need and uncertainty, his concern evident in every line of his face. His fingers twitch slightly as if they're trying to find their place, caught between the fear of causing harm and the longing to touch you. But you sense his hesitation, and with a gentle smile, you slide into his lap, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. Mo's eyes lock onto yours, a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability shining in his gaze. Your touch is soft, reassuring, and he leans into it ever so slightly.

"Mo." You murmur, your voice a soothing melody in the hushed room. "You won't hurt me. I trust you." His eyes soften, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. And then, with a mixture of resolve and trepidation, he reaches out, his fingers brushing against your bare hips as if testing the waters. Your breath catches at the intimacy of the touch, the warmth of his hand against your skin sending a shiver through you. You lean in, your lips pressing against the sensitive skin of his neck. The intake of his breath is audible, a sharp inhale that betrays his surprise and desire. Your kisses are gentle, feather-light, as you map a path down his neck and collarbone. Mo's fingers tighten their grip on your hips, his touch both grounding and encouraging. His breath is uneven, a mixture of anticipation and awe as he lets you take the lead. Each kiss you press against his skin seems to draw him closer to the edge of vulnerability he's been guarding for so long. He whispers your name, his voice a soft, almost reverent melody that washes over you.

"So good…" Your fingers trail down his chest, tracing the contours of his muscles, your touch gentle yet purposeful. His strong frame lies beneath you, a canvas of both vulnerability and strength, as your fingers trace a path down his chest, leaving a trail of soft caresses. His breath hitches at your touch, his eyes a mixture of yearning and wonder as he watches your every move. With a slow, lingering touch, your fingers trail lower, exploring the contours of his abdomen. Mo's muscles ripple beneath your touch and you can feel the tension in his body, the way he's holding himself back as if afraid to fully let go. Your lips find his skin, a gentle, reverent kiss placed just above his navel. Mo's breath catches audibly, a soft gasp escaping him as he shudders under your touch. You lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes locking onto the depths of his desire. His voice, thick with emotion, breaks the silence. "You don't have to…" He sighs, face flushed with heat, but you shake your head, your fingers tracing patterns on his skin.

"But I want to." Mo's chest rises and falls rapidly as he exhales, his fingers flexing on your hips as if he's struggling to maintain control. He nods, his gaze never leaving you, as you continue your exploration. Each kiss is a promise, a silent declaration of your appreciation for his body, for all that he is. As your lips descend lower, your fingers tracing the lines of his hipbones, you feel his muscles tense beneath your touch. The lower you get, the realisation dawns upon you that Mo is big in every sense of the word. Your lips find his abdomen, a series of soft kisses pressed against his skin. Mo's breath hitches as if he's overwhelmed by the sensations, his fingers gently bracing against your shoulder as he clings to the anchor you've become for him. Mo's breath grows more ragged, his control slipping through his fingers like sand. He watches you with a mixture of awe and need, his lips parting as if he's struggling to find the right words amidst the whirlwind of sensations.

"Pl-Please…" He stammers, his voice husky and breathless. "H-Hahh…" Your lips trail back up his body, and as you reach his lips, you share a deep, fervent kiss. Mo responds with an urgency that matches your own, his desire evident in the way he holds you close as if he can't get enough of you.

Mo's eyes are dark pools of longing as they lock onto yours, his breath uneven and ragged. The raw vulnerability he's been showing has led you to this point, the unspoken emotions finally finding their outlet. As if guided by an invisible force, you raise your hips and slowly sink your way onto his length. Mo's arms wrap around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, his body flush against yours. The heat of his skin against your own is intoxicating and you can feel the rapid thud of his heart mirroring your own. Gasps and sighs escape your lips as you feel the size of him stretch you open and fill you up. Mo's fingers trace a path down your back. Your hands find their way to his back, your fingers curling into the muscles that ripple beneath his skin. Every touch, every whisper of your lips against his, ignites a fire that burns hotter and brighter with each passing second. You begin to roll your hips against his and he shudders. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses in their wake. Your breath hitches as his touch electrifies your skin, your fingers gripping his shoulders. His voice is a husky murmur against your skin.

"I don't know…how long I'll be able to…" He whispers and your response is a breathless moan, the words lost in the haze of pleasure that envelops you both. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming. Mo's hands slide lower, his touch both reverent and urgent as they explore the curves and contours of your body. Your fingers tangle in his short crop of dark hair, a silent encouragement that spurs him on. Mo's lips are a fever against your skin. His hands, strong and rough and calloused, explore your body with a mixture of reverence and need, as if he can't believe you're real and within his grasp. As the heat between you intensifies, Mo's breath grows ragged and you feel the way his body trembles against yours. His eyes lock onto yours, his vulnerability laid bare. You can sense the overwhelming flood of sensation and emotion. He buries his face against your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin as he muffles a strangled cry. His body shakes and you can feel the intensity of his emotions in every tremor that courses through him. His grip on you tightens, fingers clinging as if you're his lifeline. You feel him spill deep inside you, his cock twitching and kicking as he empties himself into your hot, welcoming body. Your fingers weave through his hair, your touch soothing. You whisper his name, your voice soft and comforting, a reminder that you're here, present, and unwavering in your support.

"It's okay, Mo." You murmur, your words a gentle reassurance. He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours, a mixture of gratitude and apology in his gaze. His breath steadies, his trembling slowly subsiding as he lets himself lean into your touch.

"Sorry. I'm not…used to…" He whispers, his voice a soft sigh that brushes against your skin and you silence him with your lips. As his breathing evens out, you press a kiss to his sweat-slicked forehead, a silent promise that you're here for him, through every moment of vulnerability and every burst of emotion…

Mo's lips brush against your forehead in a tender, lingering kiss before he slips out of your grasp, his touch gentle even in his departure. His footsteps take him to the bathroom, the sound of water running filling the space as he begins the ritual of purification, Ghusl. You can hear his soft, melodic chanting, his voice a soothing backdrop to the quiet of the room. As the water flows and his voice carries, you're left alone with your thoughts, your heart still fluttering from the heated moment just minutes before.

Minutes pass and you can sense the cleansing ritual coming to an end. The water stops, replaced by the sound of a towel being rubbed against skin. Mo's voice grows quieter until it fades completely and you're left with a tranquil silence, the only sound the rhythm of your own heartbeat.

Eventually, the bathroom door creaks open and Mo emerges, his features softened by the aftermath of his ablutions. His eyes find yours, a bashful smile curving his lips as he makes his way back to the mattress. He settles beside you, his warmth enveloping you as he pulls you against him. His arms wrap around you, holding you close against his chest and you can feel the steady thud of his heart beneath your ear. His touch is both protective and reassuring, a silent promise that he's here, cherishing this moment just as much as you are. You nestle against him, finding a sense of comfort and security in his arms. As you drift off to sleep, his steady breathing and the rhythmic beat of his heart lull you into a peaceful slumber.

[blackleatherjacketz]

Maybe

Raylan Givens x Female Reader

Summary: Raylan drops by your house to check up on you after a shooting.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Smut, Cowboy Sex, Hair Pulling, Biting, and Bob Ross

Word Count: 1922

Tags: @letsby @genevievedarcygranger @chutzpahhooplah​ @likedovesinthewnd @wildglitterwolf @ao3feed-justified

Three heavy knocks rapped on the front door, shaking you awake from your warm and quiet spot on the couch. You rubbed your eyes, pausing your television show before looking around the room to find out what time it was: eleven thirty. Who in the world would be knocking on your door this late at night?

Three more knocks. Boom! Boom! Boom! “It’s Raylan Givens with the U.S. Marshal service,” he answered through the door, his voice muffled.

Oh… oh! You mustered up the energy to get up from the couch, fixing your hair before walking over to the door. Standing on your tiptoes, you glanced at his handsome face through the peephole; only this man could look that good through a smudgy cylinder of glass.

There was something more to him than that, though, something that made you feel safe, protected even. If nothing more than his mere presence made you feel at ease, it seemed to do the trick to keep that man distracted long enough for Marshal Gutterson to take him out from down the hall.

“A little late for official business, don’t you think?” You asked, opening the door halfway. You knew that he had your cell phone number, and the least he could do was call or text before dropping by like this.

“Yeah, well…” he looked around your front porch, a sly grin crossing his lips. “I was in the neighborhood and it got me thinkin’ about ya.”

“Is that a fact?” You stepped back and opened the door wider, motioning for him to come in.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t been thinking about him, too. His visits to the hospital with your favorite coffee in hand ‘just to check up on you’ had become more frequent. A brush of the arm, a longing stare, a hug that neither of you had the courage to break apart signaled that your relationship could be far more than a Marshal and his witness.

“It is.” He tipped his hat in your direction and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “Nice place you got here,” he remarked, taking in the foyer. “I hope I’m not…” he trailed off, peering into the living room as if searching for suspects, “interrupting anything.”

“Not at all,” you replied, the image of him in your home almost too much to bear. You held your breath in order to contain yourself, exhaling slowly as he stepped in closer to you. “Just some late night Bob Ross.”

“Bob Ross?” He glanced at your television set. “The painter guy with the afro?”

“Yeah, it uh…It helps me sleep,” you confessed, not quite divulging how that night still kept you awake. “So,” you paused, changing the subject. “What are you doing in my neighborhood this late? Got a girlfriend who lives nearby?” You fished for information, playing it cool by leaning your back against the wall. Maybe this way he wouldn’t be able to see how sleep deprived you actually were.

“No, no girlfriend,” he scoffed, taking off his hat before setting it down on the console table next to you. How he managed to keep his hair so perfect under that cowboy hat all day was absolutely beyond you. “And call me Raylan,” he corrected.

“Well then, Raylan, why are you really here?” You asked, the space between you shrinking more and more.

“You know why I’m here.” His gravelly voice softened into a whisper as he towered over you, the scent of gunpowder and sandalwood enveloping your senses.

You breathed him in, his close proximity bringing out the desire to reach out and touch him until he begged you to stop. Maybe him coming here in the middle of the night was just the distraction you needed. Maybe tonight you could feel something… anything… besides fear.

“Maybe I do,” you played his game, your heart pounding in your chest. “But why don’t you remind me anyway.”

His chocolate brown eyes darkened as they looked you over, his right hand tracing the outline of your necklace that lay just above your breasts. His fingertips were delicate, exciting the nerves on your skin as he reached the hem of your tank top. You watched intently as he brushed the edge of the fabric, sending waves of warmth into your core as he slowly slid the strap off your shoulder.

Your mouth fell open at his touch, your breath halting before looking up as his lips met yours in a silent collision. That heat he gave you previews of with his fingers finally combusted into a full blown flame with his kiss. You moaned against his mouth, a quiet hum giving away your desire that had been building for days since the very moment you saw him. Letting your eyes fall shut, you relinquished the image of his devilishly handsome face, trading the sense of vision for that of taste. Notes of whiskey and coffee entered your palate as his lips parted yours, his skin even softer than you’d imagined.

He squeezed your arm gently, massaging your muscles on the way down before following the lines on your palm like streets on a road map. He traced over the calluses below each finger, paying special attention to each of them before clasping his fingers in between yours.

He kissed you again, this time with a ferocity that took you by surprise as he pushed you up against the wall. He inhaled your scent, pulling you in close to taste your mouth as if he needed it just to stay alive. Maybe he needed to feel something just as badly as you did, or maybe he needed it even more.

You felt his hands caress the muscles in your back, massaging them gently before lifting your shirt off in a desperate hurry. The coarse fabric of his blazer brushed against your nipples, the warmth of his arousal contrasting with the coolness of the drywall behind you. You pressed your palms against his chest as he grabbed your ass, smoothing his blazer off his shoulders in an effort to get him just as naked as you were.

He pulled back from your embrace, pressing his finger against your lips as if to hush you. A few metal clicks echoed in the hallway as he removed his badge and gun, his eyebrow making a charade of setting them down next to his hat.

“Right,” you whispered. The last thing you wanted was another gun going off.

Once he was done you made quick work of helping him undress the rest of the way, the two of you clumsily ambling down the hallway to your bedroom.

The warm dim lighting from across the hall illuminated his body perfectly, rendering you absolutely speechless. You didn’t know exactly how long you were staring at him, taking in every muscle before gazing at the organ that grew between his legs.

“Jesus,” you muttered under your breath, somehow surprised by his size. He walked around town like he had the biggest dick in the world, so it only made sense that the proof was in the pudding.

A content smirk crossed his lips before he playfully pushed you onto your back, climbing on top of you. His hands smoothed their way up your thighs, hips and belly, forcing your muscles to contract in sequence like waves upon the ocean. Your back arched, your chest rising into his touch as his palms grazed over your breasts before disappearing into your hairline. He kissed you violently, tugging on your hair to keep you in place as his cock brushed against your inner thigh.

You moaned out loud as his lips moved down your chin, pressing into your jawline as his stubble tickled the delicate skin on your neck. You could feel his heart beating against yours, a rhythm so rapid you thought it would explode from its current pace. He opened his mouth against you, his tongue painting a fresh coat of saliva onto your skin before taking it between his teeth.

You gasped as he bit into your clavicle, taking note of that twinge of pain before the pleasure of his lips took it away almost instantly. You ran your hands through his hair as he feasted on your flesh, forgetting everything else in the world except for how you felt at this very moment. You felt the moisture between your legs start to collect, the tip of his head teasing your entrance as he kissed your mouth once more.

He stared at you with those eyes, golden brown irises so thin now you could barely even see them. His lashes covered them as his eyelids fell, his erection purposefully pressing against your clit with each gentle thrust of his hips.

“Raylan,” you begged, arching your back even further as little lightning bolts shot into your spine.

He smiled and took the hint, gripping himself and spreading your arousal like a paintbrush up and down between your lips; one, two, three times before finally pushing himself inside of you. His mouth fell open at the sudden sensation, a sigh of relief escaping his lips.

You wanted to look down, to watch every inch of him disappear inside of you, but his grip on your hair only tightened as he bottomed out. He held you in place, forcing you to look at him as his hips rocked into your thighs, stretching your inner walls to capacity.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, staring back at him. He’d never been more beautiful than he was right now, naked and vulnerable.

You swallowed hard as he pulled out slowly, pushing himself back in with a force that nearly sent you into the headboard. Your breath hitched, his pelvis flush against your bud as those hips drove wave after wave of ecstasy into your brain.

You moved into him, wrapping your legs around his waist to clench down around his cock, heightening the frequency of your pleasure. Holding him hostage with your thighs, you pulled him in at an angle that forced him to hit that special spot as each wave of pleasure built upon the next. He ebbed and flowed with you, his thrusts finally creating a tidal wave of bliss powerful enough for the both of you. It crested over as the rhythm of his hips became more erratic, drowning your synapses in a rush of tingling warmth.

“Raylan!” you whispered in a silent scream.

You locked your feet together behind his calves, pulling him in even deeper as your orgasm forced your muscles to contract. Grunting and growling like a wild animal, Raylan’s eyes rolled back into his head as he came inside you. His groans, quieted only by his immediate release, turned into hushed gasps as he slowed his hips to a complete stop.

“For the record, I normally last a little longer than that,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

“For the record, huh?” you chided as he pulled out and lay down next to you, your skin still buzzing.

“Yeah.” He caught his breath and slid his arm underneath you, pulling you in to lay on his chest.

“Well for the record, Marshal, I have no complaints,” you reassured him, smoothing your fingers into his chest hair.

You smiled as the sound of his heart rate slowed, the rise and fall of his chest soothing you as it eventually followed suit. Your eyelids began to droop and you thought that maybe now you might actually be able to sleep.

[yikesharringrove]

just me Thinkin Thots

-

Nobody brought their kids to Steve’s house.

He supposes it’s his own fault. Too many times kissing his dates on the front porch.

It still felt like shit though.

Watching through the window as parents look darkly at his little one-story, dragging their children away.

He always ended up trying not to cry, staring at the bowl of full-size candy bars.

He knew everyone in the neighborhood talked. He knew they all looked down their noses at him and his lifestyle, his gaggle of colorful-haired friends, the little rainbow flag he has tucked in the window box.

But he chose this, moved away from Hawkins to be out, to live his life in the way that will make him happiest.

Even if it meant no one Trick or Treated at his house.

He was sitting on the chair in the entry hall, steadily losing hope as no one came to his door.

It was close to eight o’clock.

Most of the parents would be bringing their kids home by now.

He had ripped open a few chocolate bars throughout the night, eaten them miserably.

He thought about packing it in, turning off the porch light and locking the door for real.

And then there was a knock.

He could hear voices outside.

“This is the last house, Baby, okay? Its so past your bedtime.”

Steve was giddy.

He wrenched open the door, holding onto his bowl of full sizers.

There was a guy on his porch, a guy he very much does not know, holding a little kid in a lion costume.

He would remember seeing this guy. He’s absolutely fucking gorgeous.

“Trick or Treat!” Steve melted at his little boy, at his sweet chubby cheeks, bright blue eyes.

Steve held out the bowl.

“Hi! Hi, Happy Halloween!” The guy eyed him. “Sorry. I haven’t had many people tonight.” The little boy was pawing through the bowl of candy.

His dad raised one thick eyebrow at him.

“We just moved into the neighborhood, down on the corner. Old bat next door said you were unsavory.” Steve sniffed. He was not gonna start crying.

“I’m not a creep, or anything. Just-”

“A queer?” He jerked his head to the little flag sitting in the window box. Steve stared. “I don’t think that makes a person unsavory.” Steve smiled weakly at him.

“You might be the only one on the block that thinks that.” The kid had taken as many big candy bars as his chubby little hands could hold, dumping them into the plastic pumpkin his dad was holding. “He’s really sweet.”

The guy smiled at his boy, bouncing him once on his hip.

“What do you say, Danny?”

Danny looked up at Steve, chubby cheeks bunching as he smiled.

“Thank you!” Steve smiled at him.

“Thank you both for coming! I was worried it’d be another year of wasted candy bars.”

“Well, you know he’s gonna eat too many of these tonight, because I just can’t say no to him.”

“I wouldn’t be able to either. I’m, uh, Steve. By the way.”

“Billy.”

“Y’know, if you need more candy bars, these are just gonna get tossed tomorrow so that I don’t eat them all.” Steve felt all over the place, his heart pounding against his ribs.

Billy just grinned at him.

“You that desperate for friends in the neighborhood?”

“Yes. Absolutely, yes.”

“Then, sure. I’ll bring Danny around for some candy bars. I’m sure he’d love that.”

“Okay! Yeah, I, yes. Come over anytime. I, uh, yeah.” Billy looked him over.

“You’re kind of a weird guy, Steve.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Steve could feel his face heating up. “I, you just caught me off guard, I guess. I’m used to spending the whole night just sitting here.”

“And this neighborhood came so highly recommended. Bummer it’s full of assholes.” Steve shrugged.

“What do you expect? It’s the fucking suburbs. Or, a sorry.” Steve looked frantically at Danny, not even registering the swear word until it had already slipped out.

Billy just laughed.

“You’re okay. His first word was ass.” Steve bit his lip. “Yeah, go ahead Pretty Boy. Laugh it up”

Steve would’ve laughed, if the words pretty boy didn’t slam him right in the gut. Billy just grinned at him.

“Listen, I should get him to bed, but you’re welcome to stop by for a, you know, good old fashioned Halloween drink.”

“Your, uh, your wife won’t mind?” Billy raised that brow at Steve again.

“Don’t got a wife. Don’t got a husband, neither.” Steve flushed.

“I have some caramel vodka. Mix it with apple juice and it tastes like candy.” Billy huffed a laugh.

“’Course it does.” He shifted Danny on his hip. “I’ve got more apple juice than I know what to do with. Come on over in like, half an hour?” Steve nodded once.

“Hey, thank you. For coming. Really made my night.”

“Thanks for the impending sugar rush I’m gonna deal with tomorrow.”

“Happy to help.” Billy bounced Danny once.

“Okay. I really gotta go.”

“Yeah. I’ll be there in a minute. Well, closer to thirty of ‘em.” Billy laughed, shaking his head lightly.

“Yep. Thirty of ‘em.” Steve beamed.

[word-scribbless]

Oh Baby: part 6

Brainstormed and co-wrote with @gibbsandpridegirl

Masterlist - oh baby Masterlist

Gif not mine!

—————

Amelia is a little younger than 2 when y/n and Gibbs wake up to her screaming for Gibbs after a nightmare.

“Poppa! Poppa!”

Gibbs and Y/N both jolt up and rushed to her room.

“You okay baby?”y/N asked as Gibbs scooped her from her crib.

“Poppa! Need Poppa!” She wailed, barely awake.

“I’m here baby girl what’s wrong?” Gibbs soothed.

“Scared!”

“Did you have a nightmare princess?” He asked calmly, as he swayed her gently.

She nodded into his chest and Y/N rubbed her back, and whispered, “It’s okay baby, you’re okay. We’re here and Poppa has you, you’re safe.”

Gibbs smiled and kissed Amelia’s head, leaning into his wife. He loved the way Y/N never got jealous that Amelia clung to him when she was sad or scared. She once told him she couldn’t get mad at their daughter for doing exactly what she does when she feels that way.

Y/N kissed her head and then Gibbs cheek.

“I’ll warm up some milk, want some tea? She asked Gibbs. Who nodded, he was usually a coffee drinker of course, but Y/N never offered that after midnight (unless they were on a case)

“Come on little girl let’s sit.” He cooed. “You’re okay you’re safe.”

“I scared” she whimpered.

“I know princess” he said, rocking her and rubbing her backl

“Poppa ing?”

“Sure sweetie poppa can sing for you.”

“-oana!” She sleepily requested.

“Moana again?” He chuckled.

“Mhm!” She hummed, nuzzling into his chest.

“Anything for you”

He began singing one of the calmer songs from his daughters favorite movie while rocking her on the chair. As soon as Y/N walked into Amelia’s room she smiled at her husband and their little girl curled up on the big rocking chair in her room, and listened to his soft singing for a moment.

“Wanna bring her to our room?” She whispered, setting the drinks on the dresser.

He shook his head. “Let’s just stay here for a minute” he said moving his arm and Amelia so that Y/N could slide into his lap.

“Guess she didn’t need the milk, just Poppa.” She said as she stroked the mostly asleep girl’s face.

“Luh Poppa!” She murmured and snuggled deeper.

“I love you princess” he cooed.

“And momma” she added quietly before falling asleep inHer dads arms.

“And I love you” she whispered and then looked up at Gibbs. “Well at least she didn’t forget me!” She smiled beforelaying her head on her husbands chest and nodding off as well.

The week after the nightmare incident, Gibbs had been stuck on a case for 3 days. Y/N and Amelia had been doing well but missed him very much and y/n could tell her little girl was struggling with out her dad. They drew him pictures and she played videos of him every night, he called when he could.

Y/N knew Amelia was a daddy’s girl through and through, but she knew she was lucky with how well she did when he was away. She pouted about him being gone for story time, and refused to break from Gibbs and her morning routines, but overall she was a sweetie.

Y/N woke up that morning and almost forgot about the Gibbs and Amelia morning ritual... then she’d see the not so sweet side.

“Poppa!? Or momma?” Y/N heard through the baby monitor.

“Oh crap!” Y/n said as she messed up her hair again. Then laughed at how Amelia always tacked her name on as an afterthought.

Gibbs had made a habit of getting up early with Amelia and getting ready in the guest bathroom with her sitting on the counter, so when he was away Y/N kept up pretenses. Sure there were times when Y/N made Amelia compromise and learn to deal with things not going her way.... but she figured the least she could do when her dad was away was stick to routine.

“Hey bug!”

“MOMMA!” Amelia squealed.

“Momma work?” Amelia asked and y/N smiled at her use of words and her little hopeful and questioning face.

“Nope, momma doesn’t have work today! But you and me are gonna head to the library and get some shopping done!” It was the summer, so unless she was needed for a case, she was at home with Amelia.

“Yayyyy” Amelia squealed and then frowned “where poppa?”

“He’s still out catching bad guys”

“Bad guys” she grunted with a pout.

“I know I miss him too! Let’s go get ready in the daddy bathroom and then we can send him a video to say hi sound good?”

“YAYYYY”

Amelia sat of the counter kicking her little feet as she “helped” y/N with her hair and makeup. She loved when Y/N would puff her face with her foundation brush and would giggle for minutes afterwards. She requested “Poppa hair” which was 2 high ponytails with mismatched hair ties. Y/N always made a joke when she asked for Poppa hair that no one would ask for that hair cut. To which Amelia would say NO NICE! And laugh along with them. They finished getting ready and sent Gibbs a video before getting dressed.

Y/N stopped at the door to do the next Amelia and Jethro ritual.

“MOOO” Amelia yelled when y/n picked up her keys.

“I didn’t forget, ya goof!”

“Okay ‘ready to go Miss meali moo?” She said in the best Gibbs voice she could.

“MOOOOO” Amelia yelled and nodded before kissing her mom, causing y/n to laugh and shake her head.

‘Of all the traditions he could start with you he has to have you moo when you leave the house.”

Gibbs had started saying ‘see you soon meali moo’ when he left the house or ‘you ready meali moo’ if they were leaving together, to which Amelia would yell “moooooo” and give him a kiss.

Y/N and Amelia had a good day but she could tell their daughter was missing her daddy. Before she fell asleep in the car she started to cry and when Y/N asked what was wrong she said “me want poppa” y/N decided that when she woke up they’d give him a call.

She didn’t have to though, Amelia had just woken up from her nap about 20 minutes after they got home, and her and Y/N we’re having a little Moana dance party in the living room when the door opened and Amelia squealed

“Poppa home!”

“Yayyyy poppa’s home! We missed you!” Y/N cheered and Gibbs smiled wide.

Y/N started to walk Amelia to Gibbs, holding onto her hands, when Amelia broke free and started wobbling to Gibbs all on her own.

Y/n gasped and Gibbs crouched down to meet her when she got there. He scooped her up and swung her around and Y/N clapped and ran over to hug them.

“GOOD JOB BABY!” Gibbs cheered

“you walked baby!!! You walked to Poppa!” Y/N laughed and kissed her cheek

“Poppa home!!!!!!” Amelia giggled.

“Yeah meals I’m home! And you walked!”

“You did so good bug!” Y/N said

“Meali walk!” She squealed.

“Yeah meali walked! Good job!”

Gibbs spent that night with his girls, celebrating his daughter walking by watching Moana (again) curled up on the couch. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought about how different his life was before Y/N and Amelia flipped it upside down. After a case like this 3 or 4 years ago he’d be alone, with bourbon in the basement. Now he sat with his wife curled into his side, humming to the closing song of Moana, and their almost 2 year old daughter sound asleep on his chest.

“What?” Y/N smiled up at him after hearing him huff a small laugh.

“Nothin”

She cocked an eyebrow, not believing him.

“Just thinkin’ how different my life is with you two in it.”

“A lot less quiet” she smiled and nuzzled her nose into his cheek.

“Quiet is overrated” he smirked and captured her lips. “But only with you two.”

Y/N smiled and snuggled into him, drifting to sleep.

About an hour later she woke up and noticed Gibbs sound asleep with Amelia still on his chest. She carefully went to scoop her up and suddenly the little girl let out a loud wail.

Y/N quickly placed her back on her husbands chest and she stopped and settled down immediately.

“In whose world was that gonna work?” Gibbs let out with a sleepy laugh.

“Don’t be smug! I know you’re her favorite, I was just trying to let you rest.” She laughed as Gibbs lifted their daughter up to carry her upstairs.

“How about we put her down together?” He says turning back to her with a smile. She nods and follows behind him.

“I can’t honestly blame her for picking you as her favorite.” Y/N said as she nuzzled into his back after he had laid her in her crib.

“Oh stop it” he smiled, turning around in her arms, “our little girl is so lucky to have you.

“And you” y/n whispered back.

Much like everything, Amelia seemed to reach the terrible 2s early. At 20 months old she refused to take a bath. Y/N couldn’t complain if that, and refusing to sit in a high chair to eat were her only ‘bad’ habits at this age. However she needed to bathe the child.

The poor girl didn’t just dislike baths, she was terrified of them. Y/N tried everything; shower crayons, toys, a little seat. Nothing worked. She was reduced to tricking the girl into bathing in the sink, half the time fully clothed, and now she was even catching on to that. After another week full of failed attempts, Y/N had an idea.

Amelia was sitting on the floor with Gibbs reading a book after dinner when Y/N crept over to them with a smile that gibbs knew meant she was up to something.

“Hey you” he said as she leaned over to kiss him.

“Hi momma! No bath!” Amelia informed her, and y/n just kissed her head.

“sooo I have an idea!” She said to Gibbs with a smirk.

“What’s that?” Gibbs questioned and cocked an eyebrow as She held up a pair of hisswim trunks.

“It’s February, we going swimming?” He teased and Amelia gasped “swimmy?”

“Sorta?” Y/N singsonged

“Imma need more y/n”

“Well Ami refuses to take a bath...” she whispered the ‘b word’ “ I’ve tried everything short of pulling out the big guns” shaking the swim trunks at him.

“I’m the big guns?” Gibbs laughed

“Always” she nodded and gibbs smiled.

“Come on meals we’re going swimming!” He said scooping the little girl from her play mat and grabbing the swim trunks from Y/N “you’re not getting out of this Y/N/N” he joked as he grabbed her hand and pulled her along.

Y/N was already in shorts and a T-shirt she didn’t mind being soaked, she took Amelia to get the bath set up as Gibbs got changed in their room.

“Daddy go swimming?” Amelia asked as Gibbs walked in, in his swim trunks.

Yup you and daddy are gonna go swimming” y/n told her.

“But no bath!”

“You have to go in the tub to go swimming with daddy.” Y/N reminded her, terrified that not even this would work.

“Yup! And mommy makes the best baths”. Gibbs said as he kissed y/N’s head and stepped in the tub.

“ coming in miss Amelia?”

“SWIMMMM”

Luckily y/n laid down towels on the floor before their little swim party because the Gibbs family spent the next hour splashing and giggling. In between the fun gibbs and Y/N took turns washing their daughter as the other distracted her.

“Bath is fun momma!” Amelia giggled as she dried her off with her little hooded towel.

“Sure is, bug!” Y/N smiled.

“That’s right my little monkey” Gibbs laughed as he kissed her head. “No more fighting mommy for baths!”

“Otay we swim again?”

“Of course princess”

Y/N smiled as she took Amelia to her room to put her jammies on her. She was so lucky to be raising this sweet little girl, with the most amazing man in the world.

Not long before Amelia’s second birthday, it was Y/N’s turn to be the one out of town. She was asked to speak at a linguistics conference in New York. At first she was going to turn it down, but Gibbs encouraged her to go. He even got Andi on board to convince her, saying she would be on call to scoop Amelia up if Gibbs had a case. They both knew Y/N was worried about making Gibbs miss work for her to go. With assurance that everything was covered, Y/N agreed.

As much as Amelia is a Daddy’s girl, she was used to spending at least a part of every day with her mom. Gibbs knew she might have trouble adjusting, just like he knew Y/N would struggle with leaving her.

The day before she left for New York Gibbs declared a family day.

“Poppa!” Amelia squealed as he came in her room that morning to scoop her up.

“Hi sweet girl! Don’t be too noisy! We’re gonna surprise momma”

“Sprise?” She peeped.

“Yup! Momma has to go away for a little bit tomorrow so we are going to spend all day together.”

“Momma go way?” She pouted

“Yeah, but only for a little bit! And today we all get to play together”

“YAY!”

“Shhh little goose! Let’s go make mommy breakfast.”

“Cakes?” She whispered

“Of course! Poppa’s pancakes are momma’s favorite.”

Amelia clapped as they went down to the kitchen to make breakfast.

“Hey you two, what’s going on down here?” Y/N asked as she entered the kitchen a while later.

“Spise” Amelia yelled, her form of surprise.

Y/N smiled and picked her up out of her high hair she sat in to “help” Gibbs cook.

“Mmm pancakes? What did I do to deserve this?”

“Everything” Gibbs smiled and kissed her gently.

“Momma go way?” Amelia asked with a pout.

“Bu- no- yet!” She continued in her little gibbs voice, repeating what he had told her earlier.

“That’s right princess, not yet. So we are spending the whole day together!”

“Aw the whole day?” Y/n smiled and hugged Gibbs and Amelia close.

“Yup. I took off” Gibbs said like it was nothing.

“YOU WHAT?” Y/n gasped

“Aaaat?” Amelia mimicked (it was her new phase and Y/N and Gibbs loved it).

“Tony is in charge and they aren’t to call me unless all hell breaks loose or there are zombies.” He laughs and Amelia giggled and starts to moan like a zombie.

“She learned that from Abby” y/n chuckled, “and she taught Riley” she tickled her. “Andi loooooves it” she joked.

They spent the whole day together. They went for a walk in the park, had a picnic, spent the whole day doing their favorite things. including family bed time, where they would all snuggle up in their big bed to get Amelia to fall asleep and then Gibbs would carry her to her bed once she was out.

Right before she fell asleep Amelia rolled over on her usual spot on Gibbs chest and reached for Y/N.

“Momma uggle” she whispered and Y/N scooted closer as Gibbs moved Amelia to be on her chest. He rolled on his side and curled up with one hand on their daughters back and is nose nuzzled against his wife’s face.

Y/N sniffed and Gibbs felt a tear trickle down her cheek.

“Hey” Gibbs whispered and kissed the tear away. “You okay?”

“Mhm, I just. I’m going to miss you both so much” she said snuggling into them both.

“And we’ll miss you but you’ll be back so soon.”

“I know, I just! God I love you both so much” she sniffled again.

“And we love you.”

He kissed her temple and played with her hair until she fell into a peaceful sleep, before he carefully scooped Amelia up and took her to her room. He came back and curled up around Y/N sighing happily and she nuzzled into his side.

The next day, went left for New York, knowing her little girl was in the hands very best friend and most importantly,her amazing husband.

The first night Y/N was gone, Amelia slept in the big bed with Gibbs. They knew how to get the little girl to sleep with out Gibbs there when she was wailing and missing him, but neither Amelia, or Gibbs knew how to deal with going to bed with out Y/N.

“Momma home soon?” Amelia asked sleepily and Gibbs nodded.

“Just 2 sleeps”

“poppa stay?”

“Mhm, poppa will be here when you wake up, and then you’ll get to go play with aunt andi and Riley while Poppa is at work.”

“Otay”she nodded sleepily as she clung to Gibbs’ t-shirt that Y/N always slept in. Y/N had stolen another one from his closet to take with her, she wanted her little girl to be able to sleep but she couldn’t sleep with out his smell either.

“Momma call?” Amelia peeped sleepily.

“Yup any minute now” Gibbs said as his phone began to ring. “See?” He said turning the screen to show y/N’s picture. They had their nightly bed time routine with y/n on the phone, and then Gibbs and Y/N talked until she fell asleep on the line. He chuckled slightly and whispered an ‘ I love you’ before hanging up.

The second morning that Y/N was away, Gibbs got a phone call that a case came in, so Andi and Riley rushed over to get Amelia ready to take to their house for the day while Gibbs headed in.

About a half hour later Gibbs phone lit up with a call from Andi.

“Everything okay?” Gibbs answered

“Yeah, except why the hell is your daughter mooing at me and refusing to leave the house?” Gibbs chuckled and tried to quietly explain the “meali moo” ritual with out Tony hearing from his desk. “Put me on speaker” he said after his hushed explanation.

He walked alway from the desks and said “have a fun day with aunt andi, I’ll see you soon meali moo!” And chuckled as he heard his daughter yell ‘mooooooo’ through the phone.

When he got back to his desk Tony was up with his gear.

“We got a lead, ready to go gibbsy moo?” He snickered until he was met with a Gibbs slap to the back of the head.

The case was wrapped up quickly and Gibbs was about to head home that night when he got another call from Andi.

“She mooing again?” He joked but stopped laughing when he heard her tone.

“Gibbs I need you to get here now!”

“What’s wrong? Are you guys okay?” He said as he raced to his car.

“Some guy was here! Said he’s Ami’s grandfather and he was demanding to see her.”

“Where is he now?”

“Outside I have all the doors are locked and Josh is down there making sure they stay that way, and waiting for the cops... Ami, Ry, and I are locked in the master bathroom with both doors locked and a baseball bat.”

“Thata ’ girl! I’m almost there”

“Y/n taught me well” andi laughed tightly.

“My girl is smart, is Amelia okay?”

“She’s alright, a little scared” she said hugging her close.

“Can she hear me?”

“Can now”

“Hey baby”

“Poppa!” Ami cried.

“Hey baby I’ll be right there okay?”

“Momma?”

“Soon baby, you’re safe! Aunt Andi and Uncle Josh have you alright?”

“Tay daddy!” She sniffled

“I love you baby, so does mommy.”

“Luh ou!”

As soon as he hung up with Andi he gets a call from Y/N.

“Y/n we have a problem”

“ yeah I know, I just got a call from a lawyer!”

“What?”

“Some one is claiming to be Amelia’s grandmother and is trying to get custody.”

“Yeah well someone claiming to be her grandfather is at Andi and Josh’s trying to take her.”

“Jethro! They can’t take our baby girl!”

“Call the lawyer back. Tell him about the man. Then call our family lawyer. I’m pulling up at Andi’s , cops just got here. It’ll be okay baby, no one is taking her.”

“Please take care of her. I’m still half an hour out, call me when you’re with her.”

“I will, I love you Y/N. I’ll keep her safe.”

“I love you!” He hung up and tried his best to calm himself down, all he could focus on right now was getting to his little girl.

Next chapter

@mac99martin @kittenlittle24 @viper-official @ilovemark1951 @theofficialzivadavid @averyhotchner @andreasworlsboring101 @diesinspanishbcimhispanic

[mypoisonedvine]

Cake By The Ocean | frat!Chris Evans x reader

summary: fraboy au.  college parties.  beach shenanigans.  blame @ballyhoobarnes​

warnings: fingering, mention of oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, verryyy light dub con if you squint??

shitty moodboard provided by me c:

Chris was the worst thing about mixers, hands down.

Honestly, you hated everything about mixers.  Your sisters were at their most annoying, magically transforming from educated, classy women into the most desperate of ‘pick me’ girls, clinging onto any Zeta guy they could get their hands on.  What bothered you wasn’t that they flirted with the guys, it was that they dumbed themselves down to do so.  That plus an overcrowded house, shitty drinks from plastic cups, and having to clean up everybody’s mess the next day, and you really just did not want to go to another co-ed event.

But Katie M. and Katie B., the sorority president and vice president respectively, decreed in their all-knowing power that every soror must attend five night-time events a year and you had procrastinated so hard that you had to attend every single one in May to avoid getting kicked out.  The scholarships were too good to lose. 

That didn’t mean you had to mingle, though; you were happy to hide in a secluded corner and look like you were doing something important.  In this case, it was stacking and unstacking cups.  Hopefully nobody watched you long enough to notice that you weren’t actually helping set up the drink table.

But of course, he had to show up.  He had this instinct where he could sense you minding your own business and enjoying your life, and he just had to appear and annoy you.

“Hey,” Chris’ voice wafted to your ear from behind you.  You felt his hand slip onto your waist loosely.  That was all he had to say to you?  ‘Hey’?

You ignored him, mainly because you had absolutely no idea what to say.

“Bein’ cold isn’t gonna keep me away,” he informed you, leaning in closer.

“Do you have any other suggestions then?” you frowned.

His mouth was so close to your ear now that you could smell the booze on his breath.  “Been thinkin’ about you.  I know you’ve been avoiding me.  But it hasn’t made me forget.”

“Me either, sadly,” you groaned.

“I know you get wet when you think about it,” he purred.  “I betcha think about it at night, remembering how good it felt to just let go--”

You spun around and pushed him back.  “Chris, everybody makes mistakes.  Like when the Nazis invaded Russia in the winter.  Or when your mom decided to keep it after your dad put on the condom wrong.  Or, worst of all, when we got drunk and had sex over half a year ago.  It’s okay!  Accidents happen.  But it’s best to leave them--” you rested your hand on his shoulder, giving your best comforting-but-stern look-- “in the past.”

“The best mistakes are made at least twice,” Chris grinned.  “How do you think I ended up with a little sister?”

In spite of your desperate attempt not to, you cracked a smile.  At least he could take a joke.

“Go enjoy the party,” you suggested, “talk to any of the other girls-- I bet a lot of them will find your offer more appealing.”

“I don’t wanna talk to them,” he frowned, “I wanna talk to you.  You’re interesting.”

“And they’re not?”

“I would never diss your sisters,” he raised his arms, “but you’re definitely my favorite Delta.”

“You have strange taste,” you shuddered.

“That I do,” he nodded wistfully, “that I do.”

~

You were cooped up in your room, surrounded by open text books and uncapped highlighters.  A final on Monday meant you needed to prepare all weekend.  You didn’t even look up when you heard a knock on your door; you just called out that it was open so they could come in.

“Good news!” Katie B. beamed as she popped her head around the door.  “Zeta invited us to a beach party tomorrow!”

“Why do you think that’s good news for me?” you wondered, furrowing your brow in confusion.

“Uh, because away events count for two night-time events in your attendance calendar?”

Ehh, you didn’t need to study all weekend, right?

~

Hoping to get your boost on your attendance record but disinterested in actually participating in any meaningful way, you decided you were going to tan, mainly because it utilized two of your greatest talents: laying down, and doing nothing.  After a hefty layer of sunscreen was applied to whatever your bikini didn’t cover, you settled in on the little rubbery chair with your over-sized sunglasses and some bluetooth earbuds to jam with.

The sun warmed your skin until you felt so relaxed that you honestly considered falling asleep.  Thankfully your earbuds blocked out the sounds of Zeta-Delta partying down the beach, even when the volleyball game got a little rowdy.  

Sadly, you were pulled from your relaxed state when a shadow blocked your sun, and you hesitantly opened your eyes behind the dark plastic of your shades.  Squinting, you saw his tattoo first, and you knew it was Chris come to taunt you.

“You’re blockin’ my rays, Evans,” you frowned.  

He spun the volleyball in his hands, smirking playfully.  “I came over here to ask if you wanted to play.  It’s shirts vs skins.”

“Let me guess, you always play skins?” you quipped, quickly scanning his muscled torso which was so cruelly exposed.  Did he have to look so good?  Did it have to remind you of the way those muscles flexed as he was thrusting--

“Unfortunately for me, I bet you always play shirts,” he chuckled, interrupting your train of thought just in time.  “If no volleyball, how about a swim?”

You pulled out your other earbud and put them back in their case, realizing he wasn’t going away any time soon.  “Chris, tell me, what is it that makes you think I want to be anywhere near you?  Seriously, tell me, so I can stop doing it.”

“Sure, right now you’re acting pretty icy,” he explained, kneeling down in the sand beside your chair, “but I remember when you couldn’t keep your hands off me… when you got on your knees for me…”

You wanted to interrupt him but your throat was suddenly too dry, and your thighs were clenching together.

“When you begged me not to stop…” he continued, leaning closer, his hand grabbing your knee suddenly, slowly trailing up your thigh.

“Chris,” you whispered, just under your breath-- but it turned into a gasp when his arms wrapped around you and he picked you up.  “Put me down!” you yelped.

“I think you need to cool off, babe,” he grinned.  “A little water might do the trick, huh?”

Your screams of protest were lost to the wind as he started running, effortlessly carrying you to the water’s edge.

Soon, he was knee-deep and you were pulling yourself up into him as you tried to avoid the water.  “I swear to god if you drop me,” you began.

“I won’t, okay?” he assured, slowly calming down as you let your legs hesitantly reach past the water’s surface.  It was cold at first, but then it was relaxing against your heated skin.

As he set you down in the water, his arms naturally slid to your waist, and yours to his shoulders.  And then you were looking up at him and it felt way too right.

“Um, the… the water feels great,” you mumbled.

“Yeah,” he agreed in a low, husky voice, “yeah, feels amazing.”

Those words in that voice brought back some specific memories.  

He was so much taller than you that when you were doggy-paddling to stay afloat, he could still walk somewhat normally.  But you didn’t expect him to walk behind you, or wrap his arms over your torso.

“Chris?” you gasped a bit.

“Shh,” he soothed, placing a soft kiss to your ear, then your neck, “you don’t want anyone to hear you.  Then they might look over and realize what we’re doing.”

His hand moved lower, over your stomach and finally to the top of your bikini bottoms.  You shivered, biting your lip as you tried to process everything that was happening.

“Tell me you want it,” he requested, his voice making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.  “I know you do but, I need to hear you say it.”

“I want it,” you whimpered, “please.  Touch me.”

You felt his smile against your neck as he slipped his fingers under the fabric, instantly finding and teasing your clit.  Your hips bucked a little, disturbing the water around you.  He rubbed it so softly that you would’ve thought you wouldn’t be able to feel it at all, and yet somehow it was making your entire body jolt with pleasure.  

“Calm down baby,” he chuckled, “don’t act strange or somebody will see.  And we all know how much you want everyone to know that you want nothing to do with me.”

You whimpered a little, but realized that a small group of Deltas was about to walk by in the water.

“Act natural,” Chris instructed softly, knowing that the water would obscure what you were doing, but you’d forgotten what natural even meant.

“Hey guys,” Parvati smiled, and Gia waved at the two of you.

“Hello ladies,” Chris greeted back with a nod of acknowledgement; you sheepishly smiled and waved, trying to ignore the way Chris’ fingers were moving against you.

You figured they would question why you were sitting on Chris’ lap in the water, but they were oddly accepting of it.  Maybe they were just wondering what took you two so long.

The second the girls were out of earshot, swimming further into the water, Chris started moving his fingers even faster.  

“You’re such a dirty girl,” he chuckled darkly, “getting fingered in front of your friends.”

“Wasn’t my idea,” you defended.

“I distinctly remember you begging for it,” he teased, quickly pulling you a little lower into the water so he could grope your breast.  He reached under the triangle of your bikini to get a better feel of it, tweaking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck, Chris,” you moaned softly.

“Feels good?”

“Yes,” you sighed, “so good, fuck…”

You instinctively tried to push his hand away as your orgasm approached-- it was too much, too strong, and you weren’t sure you could take it.  He’d learned to keep going anyways, otherwise you’d never get off.  And damn if you didn’t secretly love the way that he was too strong to push away.

“Go ahead,” he purred, “let go.  Come for me, babygirl.”

You bit down on your lip as the pleasure reached its peak and crashed, your body spasming as he held you close with his free arm.  “Chris, I’m coming,” you whimpered.

“I know baby, I know,” he groaned, “keep going.”

With his fingers still rubbing firm and fast on your clit, you honestly thought you could scream.  Instead, you grabbed his arm like your life depended on it, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

“Stop, stopstopstop,” you pleaded for mercy, and he granted it as his hand slipped from your bikini bottoms.  “God, you wear me out,” you sighed with exhaustion.

“That’s the goal,” he smiled.  

You moved your hips back only to feel the hard shape of his cock pressing into your thigh; you grinned.

“Well, I should probably leave you to your volleyballing,” you announced, standing up and starting to walk away.

“Wh-- I can’t play like this!” he protested, noticeably staying crouched in the water-- you knew that with what he was packing, he had no chance of hiding his boner in those tight swim trunks.  Plus, when they were wet, they would probably cling to it so tight that little would be left to the imagination… why were you salivating all of a sudden?

“Just act natural!” you encouraged him as you continued to walk towards the shore.

[strabbyshortcake]

the truth about snaktooth

Gramble finally tells his partners what befell him and everybody else on the island.

“Whatcha doin’, Gram?”

The screen door clatters as it shuts behind Boots. It’s a nice summer night, one of the rare ones they got with little humidity, so Gramble had left the main door open, the sound of katydids and crickets drifting through from the outdoors. He looks up from the hand towel in his paws, shoulders hunched guiltily.

There’s a large cardboard box sitting on the floor, full of bits of kitchen décor. Ceramic plates with fruit stenciled on them, prints of vintage ads for bread and desserts, towels with produce embroidered on them. All the kitschy things Boots knew he liked decorating his spaces with, and Gramble spent more time in the kitchen than either her or Piesha, with how much he enjoyed cooking.

“Oh, evenin’ Boots,” he greets her, expression softening into a smile. “You remember we talked about Lizbert and Egg visitin?”

“Yeah…?” She pads over, frowning a little at the bare spots on the walls and shelves. Boots was acquainted with the two from attending expedition reunions with Gramble, and while she made it no mystery that she disliked Lizbert’s invasive style of exploration, it was all in the past. Liz had retired from that life after the whole Snaktooth stunt to become a museum curator. “What’s the matter, they allergic to tackiness?”

Gramble laughs at her affectionate teasing. “No, well… Actually, funny you should say that. Egg’s fine, but Liz has got… I guess you could say she’s got kind of a hang-up over food imagery. And while she’s doin’ well these days, might just make her a lil’ more comfortable to not feel so surrounded, y’know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get you.” Boots nods, reaching up to take the clock off the wall. It’s a piece of painted wood in the shape of a strawberry. Nollie had made it in an art class. “Place is a little dusty, anyway.”

Together he and Boots work to mostly strip the place of any food-related decoration, leaving only a couple little accents up so the place didn’t seem too bare. Gramble sighs at the empty walls, leaning into Boots’ touch as she places a paw on his shoulder.

She and Pie had always been so understanding when he told them he couldn’t talk about what had happened on the island, but he hated to keep his loved ones in the dark. Not simply for the fact that there might still be danger lurking out there, but that he knew he could trust them, and yet, just telling them what had happened was almost as terrifying as the thought of being back there. The idea that just speaking of it would somehow make it manifest, bring it back into his life when he’d worked so hard to escape it, haunted him, but so did keeping it bottled up inside.

“…I need to tell you both what really happened,” he says quietly. “It’s been long enough. Just, after Liz and Egg are gone. Then we’ll talk about it.”

Boots blinks down at him in surprise. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

--

The visit went well. This was the first time Lizbert and Eggabell had seen the new house and the refurbished barn, the first they’d met Cardi and Dember, and Nollie had only been a year old when they’d last come around. They’d caught up, shared stories, enjoyed Gramble’s cooking and chatted about where their lives were going and where they’d been.

After they’d waved goodbye, gotten in Eggabell’s car and driven off to see Wambus and Triffany, after the dishes had been cleared and cleaned and the kids were all in bed, Gramble sat Boots and Piesha down on the porch swing in the back while he took the rocking chair.

“I need to tell you,” he says, fidgeting with his paws where they rested on his chest. “about what happened on Snaktooth.”

“Alright.” Pie nods slowly, leaning into Boots’ cushy side. Boots gives him an encouraging smile, rocking the swing back and forth slightly with her heel.

Gramble swallows, licking his lips. “So… Not all of what I told you was a cover-up. We did run outta food and I did almost starve to death. But… Geez, I dunno where to even start.”

“Why’d you go in the first place?” Boots asks.

“Oh, that I didn’t lie about either. My mama really did up and leave while I was at college. I went cuz… Cuz I guess I felt like I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I saw Liz on TV say she was gatherin’ people up for her team and I just… I wanted somewhere to go that wasn’t home.”

She nods solemnly, gesturing for him to go on.

“Well, Snaktooth… Liz said she found somethin’ there. These creatures she was documenting. D’you… Have either of you ever heard of bugsnax?” Gramble nearly whispers the last word, even though it’s just the three of them out here, just the three of them and the crickets and fireflies, the kids sound asleep.

Piesha tilts her head, thoughtful. “Mm… Maybe a long time ago,” Pie says. “One of those things they got lots of fairy tales about. Critters made of food, right?”

“Right.” Gramble nods. “But they’re real. And please- I know how it sounds,” he stammers, even though neither of them looked skeptical. “But I swear. I saw them, I picked them up and held them, I had a whole barn full of them that Liz and Buddy caught for me. I had names for them, and… and everybody said they were the most delicious things they’d ever eaten. B-but there’s a reason for that. Sorry, lemme go back a bit and explain.

“When we got there, we thought we’d be able to farm. That was Wambus’s thing, but no matter what he tried, the crops would wither, or the bugsnax would get in and destroy them. The only thing he could grow was the sauce that grew on the island, and that wasn’t anywhere near enough to live on. Pretty soon we ran outta food, but that wasn’t a problem for most folks. They’d just eat the bugsnax.”

“And I’m guessin’ you didn’t?” Boots asks.

He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t want to. I already didn’t eat meat, and the snax were always so cute and friendly and I couldn’t bear the thought of hurtin’ them. So I just… didn’t. I tried to live off the sauce, and I ate dandelions and weeds, I ate damn near anything that was edible, but it was never enough.”

“That’s awful, Gram.” Boots says, her brows knitted. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“Well, I… I thought about it,” Gramble wraps his arms around himself. “Even though I didn’t have nowhere to return to, I figured it might be better than starving. But it wasn’t too long after that Lizbert up and disappeared. Her and Egg, there was an earthquake and after that they never came back to town. Some folks thought they died, others thought they ran off, but without her nobody was bringin’ in bugsnax to eat and they started to eat mine, so I ran off with the rest of ‘em and that made everybody mad and I really did start to think there was nobody who cared about me but the snax and Wiggle, and… and even she was eatin’ them too, but I let her cuz I didn’t have nobody else... I was so afraid she’d leave me too that I put up with it.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath. “So, um… I guess a couple weeks after that, Buddy finally showed up. We’d been on the island almost a year at that point. They wanted to interview Liz, figure out what happened, and they managed to get all of us back into town within a week or two. I was really doin’ poorly though.” His claws absently scratch at his belly over the scar that the rake had left, concealed beneath his fur but never fully faded.  “Didn’t care much whether I lived or died. Nothin’ I tried worked, and one of the big snax I asked Buddy for nearly killed me. And then…”

Boots holds Pie’s paw between both of hers, stroking it, both of them patiently waiting for him to gather his racing thoughts. It had been so long since he’d even thought about all this, and much of the events were a haze of hunger and pain, he was amazed he could keep the basic timeline coherent.

“Then, one night… When we were all back in town, Filbo decided he wanted to throw a party. That was when everything… That’s when it all fell apart. There was an active volcano on the island, and it erupted. Eggabell suddenly showed up back in town and told us she knew where Liz was, and she and Buddy and Filbo ran off to get her while the rest of us tried to get to safety. B-but… You remember what I said before, about the bugsnax?” He lifts his gaze to the two of them.

Pie nods at him. “Yeah. They taste good, right?”

“They also…” Gramble holds his paws out, curling his fingers into fists. “They change you. Whenever you eat one, your body parts become it. I know it sounds silly, but everybody was walkin’ around with arms and legs made of strawberries and corn and cinnamon rolls and you kinda just… got used to it. I only ever ate one when I was sleepwalkin’, and I don’t even remember what it was like, but everybody else except Shelda ate ‘em all the time. You get used to it and then you start believin’ that they’re the only thing that can make you feel good anymore. Sorta like drugs, but sorta like… Wiggle used to say they inspired her, and Chandlo thought he could get stronger with them, it was whatever you wanted. I guess even I was fallin’ for it, thinkin’ they could replace my family, and I never even had to eat ‘em.

“But that’s the trick. You get dependent, but you don’t realize that… That they’re parasites. And I’m kinda fuzzy on the details, but according to Buddy, Liz was somehow stuck down in the main… meat of the hive,” Gramble brings his paws together, looking down at his intertwined fingers. “And that’s where she’d been all along, down in the darkness with all those food bugs crawlin’ all over her and into her mouth and… that’s why she’s got such a thing about food.”

“Ah…” He can’t blame Boots for looking a little numb, covering her mouth with her paw as Pie stares blankly at him. It was a lot to take in. “Yeah, I guess that’d do it.”

Gramble goes on. “They attacked us not long after Buddy and the others left, tryin’ to force themselves into our mouths, or kill us, either or. I guess they knew the jig was up, then and there. No comin’ back from that. But we all got away, in the end… And that’s what happened.”

He falls silent. The porch swing creaks slightly as Boots lets it come to a stop, letting the singing of the insects fill the air between them for a long moment.

“S’this place still out there…?” Piesha speaks up softly, glancing out into the darkness as if the snax might be watching from the trees.

“Far as I know,” Gramble says, slipping off the chair to walk over and take one of their paws in each of his. “But you gotta promise me you will never, ever go there.” His expression is grim as he peers up at them. “And you’ll never breathe a word to any of the kids about it, or to anybody else. Nobody should ever step foot on that awful place again.”  

“Gram,” Boots squeezes his paw in return, then leans over to scoop him up and pull him into her lap, the swing groaning in complaint as yet another grumpus is piled upon it. “…there’s gotta be somethin’ we can do-”

“No.” Gramble shakes his head, desperation creeping into his voice. “I- I don’t know. Maybe there is somethin’ that someone out there can do, but it can’t be any of us. I don’t want nothin’ to do with it ever again and if word gets out, it’s just gonna be more people goin’ there and that’s exactly what it wants. Please,” he tilts his head up at her, the porch light glimmering in his eyes. “Just leave it alone. It can’t get us here and I want it to stay that way. Promise me.”

When she hesitates, he repeats himself, teeth glinting as his lips peel back. “Promise me, please-”

“I promise.” Boots leans down to kiss him on the nose, wrapping her arm around him as the other draws Pie in closer. “I won’t tell nobody if that’s what you want.”

“That’s all that I want,” he murmurs into her fluffy chest, suddenly very tired despite the mental weight that had lifted. He’d spoken Snaktooth’s name aloud, finally uncorked what he’d kept bottled up for nearly two decades now. He should feel better-prepared, now that they were all on the same page, so why did he still feel like he was only summoning the beast? Perhaps he just needed to sleep, let this new information digest, and they’d face whatever came tomorrow together.

Hundreds of miles away, the island remembers them too.

[sacklerscumrag]

Through My Eyes

Clyde Logan X Female Reader

Warnings: body image issues, self loathing, insecurities, mention of self harm. body dysmorphia, reader suffers from depression, mental health 

Word Count: 918

The door swung shut as Clyde walked into the living room, noticing the lights were still off throughout the house. 

"Baby! Ya ready to go?" He shouted before making his way into the bedroom. You had promised to accompany Clyde to the bar tonight, and frankly, he was shocked you weren't sitting pretty on the couch waiting for him like any other night. Clyde's large frame came to a complete stop at the entryway when he caught you standing in front of the full-length mirror with a somber expression painted all over your face.

Everything seemed wrong. But it wasn't the everyday self-criticism of the excess skin on your arms making your stomach churn whenever you lifted them to see whatever was spilling over the sides of your bra or your ample sides; you would give anything to shrink. Your eyes were particularly drawn to the stripes of past harm layering on the outer part and inside of your upper thighs. Stories told by marks etched by you onto your skin remind you of a time in your life consumed by the emptiness inside you. You wondered how things got so bad, blaming yourself, hating yourself for not being able to control the pain—leaving you with a permanent reminder of your mistake inked onto your body. How could anyone love this body? Bruised and broken by your past. Looking at yourself in a mirror becoming such a rarity that you became unrecognizable even to yourself. But you've come so far; you couldn't go back, not now. 

Your arms slowly crossed in front of you, attempting to shield yourself—one of Clyde's loose t-shirts and long leggings that should do the trick, you thought to yourself—hiding it all away until it somehow becomes easier to forget. And it was. Temporarily at least. Your hands continued to roam the soft flesh of your belly while scrunching the ill-fitting t-shirt in your hands. 

"Darlin, what's wrong?" You quickly pulled the t-shirt over your head as Clyde's deep baritone voice startled you a bit, making you look up to meet his gaze. 

"Hey. It's nothin. Just can't find something to wear." You attempted to gather your thoughts and tuck them away, but Clyde noticed the distress in your voice by the way your eyes trailed down your body almost with disgust. "Nothing feels right. Or fits right for that matter." Your frustration grew. "Only the clothes aren't the problem, I am." You mumbled lowly to yourself as you toyed with the t-shirt.

"Hey. Talk to me." Clyde walked as softly as he could to stand directly behind you, wrapping his arms gently around your waist, engulfing you in his embrace. 

"I just don't like the way I look, that's all. I'll be fine, baby, I promise." You mustered the best smile you could before turning to place a kiss on his cheek and settling back in his arms. Clyde's insides twisted into knots at the mere thought of you condemning any part of yourself. He would spend every hour of every day praising every inch of you if he could just to show you just how perfect you were in his eyes. 

"Now yer bein awfully mean to the woman I love." He slightly chuckled before your eyes met his in the reflection; Clyde could see how far you were from him, something clearly building up inside of you. He had to do something. "Have ya been thinkin about these?" His massive hand outlined the marks along your thighs.

"Yeah, maybe a little bit." Tears threatened to spill over as you spoke, making Clyde's breath catch in the back of his throat. Clyde knew about your past, having told him all about it about a year into your relationship. Your heart warmed at the thought of that night. Showing him your scars, expecting him to run off at sight, but instead, being showered in tender spoken praises in between kisses.

"Ya won't go back to that. You gotta know that. I won't let ya." Clyde whispered into your ear. His voice was as tender as his touch. He clutched you tighter as if you were going to float away from him back into that dark place.

"I know, baby. It's just one of those days." You gulped harshly, trying your best to focus your attention back on Clyde, longingly peering back at you through the reflection. He could spend all night endlessly talking you out of the confines of your own mind, but that's not what you needed. He needed to show you exactly how much he adored every square inch of you; everything else could wait.

"I have an idea." You gasped as Clyde swept you off the ground and onto the mattress in one sudden movement. Your fingers intertwined in his dark locks, brushing them away from his face as he hovered over you with a grin. 

"We have to go, Clyde; the party's at your bar." He began tracing along the bare skin on your sides while placing wet kisses on the supple skin of your neck. 

"Darlin, it's my bar; they can make do without me." His mouth continued working its way down, sucking and biting on the soft flesh of the tops of your breasts spilling from your bra. "I've got better things to do tonight anyway." Every kiss was hungrier than the last as he worked his way lower and lower. "And I plan on" kiss "takin my time" kiss "with every" kiss "bit of ya." 

[prose-for-hire]

Love, Hate, Love: Part one

Part Two // Part Three

Pairing: Spike x fem!vamp!reader

Request: Not a Cordy request, but i dont want to forget it 😅 How about Spike and the vampire reader really disliking each other until she finds out his human "identity". And they remember they were best friends as kids and wrote poetry together and stuff and they fall back in love? That would be amaaazing😋

Requested by: @therapieliteratur​

Warning: Violence between reader and Spike. Swearing. Tiny blood mention.

A/N: I got carried away and had to split this into parts, hope you don’t mind. This is part one of three 💜

You had lived for over a hundred years. That does things, memory-wise. You were forgetful over little details, especially so of your human past. Faces blurred and voices distorted. Scratched lines of poetry lost to the sands of time. It was so long ago, your memories of that part of you were in black and white.

You were a modern woman now. You weren’t hung up on the social codes of your time. You embraced every new decade. Every style and you got a kick out of learning the slang of the moment. It was cute, you collected these phrases as if they were necklaces. Or buttons. Stamps, even.

There was never much room for amassing material items however. You found yourself moving from one place to another. Often without thought or warning, people after a certain amount of time figured out that you weren’t aging. Or that you had been to the butchers too often. You had spent a lot of time in Europe and there was still thick superstition in many places.

Leaving you being run out of different towns all over the continent. It wasn’t so much pitchforks and the like anymore. You would be hassled on the street. Word of mouth would spread and suddenly the home you had made for yourself would be up in flames again.

You had moved to Sunnydale within the last decade. A new climate, new faces. New humans to try to live alongside. You ate animal blood, you had retained a soul some years back. It had been painful and incredibly hard. You had barely got through it with your mental health intact. The guilt would always be there, but you strived to be and do better.

Which was not something you could say for one vampire you had met since you arrived. Spike. He had more cheekbones than brains and he prided himself on being bad. The opposite of how you lived your un-life.

He lived, now alone, in an underground crypt after Drusilla left him. You had actually been quite fond of Dru in a strange way. You felt a little sorry for her which she screamed at you for feeling as soon as she realised. The stars told her, or something.

Angel, an acquaintance of yours, had explained all about what it had been like with Spike and the rest in the past. He was a piece of work, by all accounts. Angel left to LA and asked you to come, he had become hung up on the Slayer and couldn’t bear to live on the Hellmouth anymore.

You declined, knowing you were meant to stay for now at least. You made a home here. Something permanent for once. It was certainly harder with Angel gone. He understood how you felt about the past, about the guilt. He helped you through it the best he could too.

But you could manage on your own. You had to. You got on well enough with the Slayer anyway. She was sweet and very good at fighting so even if you had a problem you probably wouldn’t air it.

You were sat at drinking in your local demon bar when he walked in. You scowled, burning holes into him as you watched him coming towards you from where you sat on the side of the bar.

You had wanted a break. You had almost been staked. Again. Vampires hated you for protecting the slayer and you were only allowed in here because the bartender found you attractive.

Spike saw you and smirked, ordering his drink and slinking over to you. He did this a lot, he thought you were both playing some game. He hated you as much as he found you attractive. Not that you were entirely aware of this.

“Well, well, look at who’s embracin’ her roots” he gestured around the room.

“Look who’s embracing the stake about to go in his chest” You warned, glancing at him only briefly as you spoke.

“Now, pet. Wouldn’t want to get yourself run out of town again would you? I got friends here y’know… you don’t” He warned, glad of the distinct lack of Angel about the place again, “Only one of us that’s gonna be missed”

“Stop calling me pet” You reminded him as you always had to, “Why don’t you turn around and let me rest in peace” You remarked. His eyes danced at those words, ones he had thought himself before. But he still retaliated in his usual way.

“’Cause, if I remember rightly you were the one making my affairs your business” He pointed at you, still standing over you rather than sitting, “Tellin’ the girlie my little plan”

“It was barely a plan” You spat. He was going to take poor Willow hostage. Again.

“It was a good plan. Smart plan… that you buggered up by running to slutty the vampire slayer”

“Don’t pick on the kid” you snapped, taking a sip of your drink and trying to tune his voice out.

“Oo, someone’s got a crush” He taunted trying to wind you up, “What is it about that bird, got every soul’s knickers in a twist”

“Spike, please. Just for tonight… Fuck off” You muttered, clutching your head. You were starting to get a headache. You missed the look he gave you, the hand that hovered over your shoulder for a fraction of a second before he snatched it away. Why the hell would he do that? He frowned at himself.

“Fine, I will. Gonna get me a pretty woman… none around here though” He said pointedly and you just waved you hand, uncaring, and didn’t look up from your drink. He didn’t like this, so he continued, “Yeah, I’ll shag her… drain her” He shrugged, taking the shot of blood he had ordered as it arrived. He smirked and starting to stalk off. You sighed exaggeratedly.

“Can’t let you do that, Spike” You got up from your bar stool and grabbed his shoulder to pull him back.

“’Let’” He scoffed, shrugging you off.

Spike instantly threw a punch that you caught. You twisted his arm and started to pull him towards the exit. You shot the bartender an apologetic look as you left.

When you got outside you hauled him away from you as he smirked at your face.

“If you wanted to get me all to yourself, love, all you needed to do was-” He started top purr, but became silenced by your fist against his jaw. He scowled, tensing his jaw before he smirked again, “Oh, you like it rough don’t you? Come on then, let’s see who comes out on top”

He beckoned you towards him. You saw him jumping on the spot, warming up as he did. Enjoying himself. It was a dance to him. You his reluctant partner.

But, you ran at him anyway. Like you always did. You fought equally to begin. Until he started to fight dirty. He used every trick in the book and you were starting to slow with the pain. You had a headache already and this was making it worse.

He hit you successively, sharp pains in the jaw that you could barely block as he caught you off guard. You groaned in pain, which made him cocky. He started to restrain you by your wrists, his smile wide and shark-like as you hit the brick wall behind you. Your brain rattling around your skull.

Your skull. You propelled your head towards him, hitting the soft part of his nose with your now vamped forehead. He dropped your wrists to clutch his nose and you took the chance to kick against his torso, hard. He fell back against the hard pavement. You were instantly on him.

You straddled him, pushing him back from trying to get up. You just stared at each other for a moment. In that second, had anyone looked it could have gone either way. You could have lowered yourself to him, caught his lips. Embraced him with a passion that only you (and probably any nesting birds watching from above) would know.

But you didn’t.

You were angry at him. For being who you used to be. For being someone you could understand. For being horrible. You punched him hard on the jaw instead in your frustration.

It distracted him enough for you to grab the stake out of your waistband and dig it into his chest. You gave him a look, one suggesting you were serious.

You thought for a moment, sighing at the way your guilt worked now.

“Go home. Cuddle up to your loneliness” You ordered, removing the stake from his chest as he wiped his bloody nose. Deciding (seeing as he was only in dead company) to lick his own nose-blood from his fingers, “You’re so disgusting” You said hitching your nose up and getting to your feet. It was an act - it didn’t phase you. You had seen worse. But you still despised him for not having the guilt that you had so deeply rooted in your chest.

“Oh, like ‘totally’” He mocked the way you spoke. The way you assimilated. It angered him. Vampires weren’t supposed to be good. Have souls. Weren’t supposed to help slayers.

You walked your separate ways. Two sides of a coin. You could be each other, you had been each other. His ego was bruised and you had to ice your jaw. You cursed and blinded and hated him.

When Spike returned to the crypt, he felt the loneliness much more acutely. He was getting madder and madder. It wasn’t just because he had been beaten by a girl either. He had looked at you in a way he never thought he would. There had been something there tonight, behind the mists of your eyes. Something he recognised.

And he hated you for it. He swore he did. It angered him so much he was shaking.

“Bloody twat, thinkin’ she’s better than everyone just ‘cause she fought for a soul. Any bugger with half a brain and workin’ fists could go through that crap” he shouted, kicking at the gate in his crypt.

When you went home to your sweet little house, you were in the same predicament. You slammed the door closed, leaving the entire house shaking.

He had gotten under your skin. Again. Walking around as if the life you as vampires had now was better than what had been. As if killing and fucking and fighting was all that was required for perfect happiness.

You hated him. His attitude. His guiltlessness. But most of all, you hated that you could see through it. The mask. And you hated that you understood him. Could be him had you not fought for you soul to come back.

Because what had it gained you? Except self-hatred and a talent for identifying different flavours of animal blood by sight alone?

Of course, you wanted to help Buffy. The others. Save the world. But some days you envied him. The way you presumed that he could just stalk through the night and not have deep thoughts about the ending of life or anything else.

You punched the wall. Hard. Screaming in frustration, shivering with the guilt. Quivering with anger. Mixed emotions.

You both were in your own heads, emotions and thoughts flashing violently behind your eyes. Not even slowing when the light came and you had to try to contend with sleep.

That was the night that they started though. The dreams.

[cullxtheherd]

Dammit, I'm too soft and need my comfort boys now! 😭

Can I get “No one’s kissed me like that in a long time.” for Sharky, my dear pyromaniac boy? ❤

hell yeah you friggin can!!! thank, thank, thank you for sending me this ask!! i haven't proofread SHIT!! i took my medicaiton and i need a nap!!! asakdjskdsk this is uh? what most would call NSFW, enjoy!

“Woah, woah Chica-” Charlemagne grips the condensation laden bottle by its end and its past peeling sticker. The texture lies somewhere between off putting and comforting and he runs the pad of his thumb over one of the wrinkled corners, “Hold on now I-hCc!” Despite being a well seasoned drinker something must not have sat right with him this evening and he hiccups twice before he can continue.

“What was I sayin’?'' It comes out as one word on one hopps laden breath and he refocuses on his drinking partner for the time being, “Oh, yeah!” He hikes a finger into the air vaguely in her direction with one eye half closed, leaning on the rounded edge of the bartop, “We hardly even know each other, Little Miss!” With the bottle halfway to his lips he abruptly stops, one finger uncurling to point at her as well, “And I do declare-hmnn-hmm-hmm!”

Sharky can’t hardly help himself on a good day and he starts laughing. First he does try to subdue it, face pinching with the effort but he does release a painful snort, “I’m sorry,” He tries between a hoot, “I can’t even take my own damn self seriously- did you hear what I was even trying to say? I mean, woo-hoo!” He laughs again at the thought, cheeks and neck reddening with rising hilarity, “Me. Charlemagne Victor Boshaw the FOURTH!! Tellin’ an interested woman what’s for.”

“Well, I mean!” He realizes himself too late and he sputters trying to backtrack, bottle at his lips for a swish before he continues, “That is not to say that I am assumin’ nothin’ when it comes to that or you and me- and hey!” Feeling like he’s really only caught his first good, decent look at his comrade for the night, he tries to concentrate around the blurred, starry edges of his vision. “Hang on now, you remind me of somebody.” His face screws up in a look of near constipation, gears grinding and turning - trying desperately to form a single, cognitive thought, “I know you…”

“Aww,” Her voice is low and pitying, sickeningly sweet, “Sharky.” Tinged with a hint of hopeful disappointment, “You should just stop thinking.” She swivels in her seat, one leg folded neatly over the other and a halo of blonde shining under the overhead lights, “Just,” She inches closer, just slightly, forever luring him in but never setting the hook, “Hush that pretty head of yours and have another drink. It is,” The lines around her eyes set when she giggles far more youthful than her appearance, “On the house, after all.”

“Yeah,” He agrees though he isn’t particularly thirsty and when a bottle is pressed to his lips he takes a lengthy swig, fully trusting the woman he’s been speaking to. “I should,” So entranced is he that he hardly realizes the switch off. New bottle, different shape, “You’re right.” Directly from her hands to his mouth this time. “That’s an excellent idea-” He wants to elaborate but the thoughts leave him and he watches, happily, as someone he is sure he should know briefly interrupts their little two-person soirée.

“Yes,” He catches her saying, “Yes Father.”

The way she looks up at him with an unmatched, heady desire sparks a tight, hateful twinge somewhere deep within him and suddenly, without thought or warning, he’s getting up out of his seat- nearly jumping backwards off of his bar stool. He doesn’t say anything but he holds himself on edge, breath heavy and chest tight. Ready for what, he isn’t sure.

His new friend gets up as well. Slowly and placatingly she approaches him. Tiptoeing barefoot around the toppled stool she rests on her heels in front of him, pads of her pointers tracing the raised, bubble lettering of his sweatshirt. “Shame,” She sounds sad and heartbroken as she looks up at him through her lashes, “Things were going so well, wouldn’t you say?”

Though he is struggling through the haze, trying to break free from the control she has on him he finds himself nodding along, mouth opening, “Yes, I would.”

“Tonight was going to be the night, Charlemagne,” There is an almost supernatural, haunting tone to her voice that coats him to his very soul- viscous and charming is she, “The. Night.” She pouts feigning a sob into his chest and, despite the dread creeping in he embraces her, palms smoothing over the lines of her gauzy, lace dress. “Do you understand what that means?”

Sharky doesn’t respond verbally but his fingers tighten, digging into the curve of her shoulders underneath a layer of fabric that reminds him of the floral doilies his grandmother kept on surfaces around her home.

“You and me, together,” Though he is gaining his wits his heart aches for that statement, “Forever.” She spins once, heavenly, between his arms and humming, “It could be Bliss, you know.”

She looks up at him and though he knows he should make a move to run- leave this place and never look back, he dips his head instead. When their lips meet it is other-worldly. Charlemagne feels like blasting off into space with Larry and whatever that damn computer's name is he’s always talking about.

Though they are by no means alone, anything rooted in reality ceases to exist for him. They could be in the middle of a field, tornado overhead- bottom of a mountain with an avalanche barrelling down and he would be none the wiser. Sharky had never been one to buy into the whole ‘time stops’ theory when it came to being with another person and sharing intimacy, but? He is becoming a believer as the seconds tick by.

When they pull apart, each of their chests heaving for breath he takes a long, wisened look at her. This is? The enemy. Without a doubt- make no mistakes about it. This is wrong.

She opens her mouth to say something but unthinking and working solely on drive Charlemagne pushes forward, rearing her into the wall of, what he is now aware is, not a licensed retail establishment. The bus turned Peggie jungle gym decorating the center of Moonflower Trailer Park creaks and groans with the voracity in which he attaches himself to her.

In the many times he’d dared to imagine a similar scenario he at least envisioned some kind of refusal or rebuttal from the female Herald but she leans into him, eager to respond. Sharky pulls away, flustered lips biting a line down the side of her mouth to her chin. At her neck he particularly digs in, hands tying into her hair tightly.

“No one’s kissed me like that in a long time,” She’s a mixture of cross and ashamed, hands wrung tightly in the curled hairs at the nape of his neck, “Bastard.”

“Should leave you with a little somethin’ for Padre Joe, in that case.” He moves in as her mouth opens to object, teeth rough on the tender bend of her neck. A hand travels the curve of her ass, bringing her in closely as she responds.

“Sharky . . .”

He’s never heard a creature as ethereal as her breathless before and it takes battling an excellent sense of self preservation to make a line of mottled, swollen hickeys in every tender, erogenous zone he can manage to get to. “You like that?” As the Bliss really begins to leave him he does have the sense to start getting angry with her and her tricks despite their current entanglement.

She nods her agreement, little huffs of air tickling the short hairs on the side of his neck but it isn’t quite the type of affirmation he’s looking for.

“Let’s see, then.” With nearly any other woman he would likely not be this assertive but this is the second time she’s tried to drug him and take advantage of him to get him to join their stupid wacky cult and? He’s not concerned about pleasantries or anything resembling normalcy. The hand at her rear ruchs up the back of her dress just enough so that he can trace the outline of her panties freely before snaking a finger inside, “Oh, yeah?”

She has the decency to look embarrassed and he smiles wide, pleased, “You get all hot and bothered thinkin’ of ways to get me to say Yes, don’t you?”

“I-” He shifts, moving to bring his hand to a more advantageous position and she makes a noise of protest, “No!”

Sharky raises a brow at her and the way her barefoot slaps the ground in rebuttal, “You sure about that?” Reaching between them he adjusts himself, purposefully slow to return his hand to the apex of her thighs. Alight with joy at the look of frustration it causes he relents, “Now,” The decommissioned school bus creaks when she tries to vy for leverage against his slow, lapping movements, “Think real hard before you answer me-”

“Yes! I do- I,” Rachel cuts herself off sucking in a large, shaking breath, “Ohh! I love thinking of ways to bring you down, Sinner! I- mmm!”

Charlemagne laughs silently, eyes creasing up in the direction of the moonlight. Toeing the line of stern and gentle he leans in, lips and tongue and careful teeth against her. Two small, hot hands grip the width of his wrist, keeping him there, when he tries to adjust his stance and he grins against her, sickeningly glad to know he is doing well for her.

Nose against the shell of her ear and mouth working on and off in time with his digits he speaks gently this time, starkly aware of what her reality must be, “How long has it been since a man treated you right?” Apparently unable to speak, she shakes her head in the negative, teeth pinching her lower lip, “Never?”

“Shut up,” She barely manages.

“What?”

“I said shut up and fuck me, Charlemagne!”

His entire face screws up at that, her hazy spell broken. “No,” Sharky removes himself from her, head shaking in the negative, “Don’t think I will. Go home, Faith.”

“You can’t just stick your fingers in a woman and then tell her to get out, Sharky!”

“I can and I have and I will, Ma’am.” Taking a breath he releases what he’s debating on, “Not every guy wants it like that, Shorty.” Out of view within the bus behind her he reaches into the darkness, “Sooner you learn that,” He shrugs, looking stern though he is sporting quite the rock-hard erection, “Sooner we can do more than just talk.”

“Sharky-”

The shotgun blast dissipates the vision of her and he looks down at the barrel, nearly disappointed he hadn’t submitted and agreed to be turned into one of her newest pets, “Well. Least I got my twenty bucks worth.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

63. sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery, but today you’ve caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the “[person] is [attractive] enough to warrant flower theft” and I’m trying to figure out how to break it to you that we’re on our way to a graveyard

Danbrey, sfw, please!

Here you go!

It’s the rabbit that draws her eye; it’s not everyday a bunny the size of a Beagle stops outside the window of Amnesty House. She follows the leash from the harness to the hand holding it, and spots a much bigger issue.

“Miss?” She steps onto the porch, “could you not take my flowers.”

“Yeeeeep!” The other woman drops the pocket knife she’s using to saw off the stems of tulips and irises, scrambling to her feet and tearing her fishnets in the process, “shit, um, I’m sorry, didn’t think you’d notice, I’ve done it before and you never, um, nevermind.” She pulls the rabbit back from the fence, “anyway, I really needed this, they’re really pretty and I think she’d like them-”

“Ohhhhh, I get it” Dani crosses her arms, “in that case, I’ll come with you. I want to see the person who’s cute enough to warrant multiple flower thefts.”

“Um, or! You could not do that and I could promise to never do this again?”

“Nope, my mind’s made up.” She slips on her Birkenstocks and heads down the front stairs. Jake and Moira are both home, so she’s not too worried about locking up.

“Fine. Let me just-” The woman scoops the rabbit up and sprints away. Dani could just let her go, but those were her heirloom irises, damn it, and she wants to make sure the person who gets them knows just how valuable they are. So off she goes, soles slapping the pavement as they head towards the lakeside.

She won’t be surprised if the recipient is hot; god knows the thief is. The freckles and red-streaked hair is just the icing on the combat-boot, denim-vested femme cake.

Growing up in this neighborhood means she never loses sight of her target, even when she’s cutting through alleys and taking sharp turns. Then the woman goes straight through a wall of junipers and Dani is not interested in getting that scratched up by plants today. This is one of the borders of the park, so all she needs to do is find the front entrance to relocate her very distinct thief.

Ten minutes of hunting later, she spots a red and black pompadour on the other side of a low, stone wall. She’s cross-legged on the grass, which the rabbit is happily munching by her side.

“Okay, seriously, does the person you’re seeing know those...are...aw fuck.”

The other woman turns from the gravestone she’s sitting by to look at her, “Yeah. This is kinda why I didn’t want you to come with me. I mean, it was a hella weird thing to do anyway, but” she sweeps her arm at the cemetery, “this is super not a date.”

“I’m so sorry.” Dani sits on the opposite side of the rabbit, “That never even occurred to me. I…” she sneaks a glance at the dates; the death was only three years ago, “I’m sorry for your loss, too.”

Silence settles between them; she feels like she should say something else, that it’d be rude to just shrug and walk away, but she has no clue what words are even appropriate here. The rabbit stretches its neck, bonking it’s nose into her hand. She pets it, smiling when it nestles closer.

“Mom really liked bulbs.” The thief says softly, “when I was little we’d always go for walks in the spring just so we could see the first ones popping out of the ground. She liked ones that were unique, so when I saw the orange and black ones in your garden all I could think was how happy they’d make her. How she woulda stopped to look at them whenever she walked past. I know it’s silly but I, um, this felt like the closest I could get to giving her that.”

The breeze carries dried iris petals from the headstone into the park beyond the wall.

“You could have just asked. There’s no way I would have said no if you told me what they were for.”

“It felt too weird. Everything feels weird these days.” She sighs, reaching out to rub dust from the stone, “I thought I was ready to come back, but it’s like the whole town is haunted.”

The fresh flowers wobble, then land on the grass. Dani grabs them and puts them back, the rabbit honking indignantly when she does.

“At least Dr. Harris Bonkers is having a nice time.” The other woman rubs the rabbit’s ears, “isn’t that right, buddy?”

“What’s he a doctor of?”

A small, beautiful smile, “Psychology. He worked hard for his PhD.”

“I bet.” She gives the doctor a final rub on the nose, “I’ll, uh, I should give you two some time alone.” Dani stands, brown eyes watching her the whole time.

“Thanks for the flowers.”

She smiles, “You’re welcome.”

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

Moira’s expecting a package, so Dani doesn’t even look up when the older woman answers the front door.

“Um, hi. I, um, I was hoping to get some flowers? The blonde who lives here said I should ask this time. I’m Aubrey? Wait, I don’t think I told her that.”

“Which blonde?”

“The cute one?”

“....I meant the boy or the girl.” Moira replies, amused, just as Dani reaches the door.

Aubrey waves, “Hi again. Could I take a few Irises?”

“Sure. Oh, wait, let me get you the pruning shears; the knife isn’t great for cuttings.”

“Dani! Could I get a hand really quick?” From the accompanying clanks, Barclay needs said hand urgently.

“Coming! Here, you can just leave them on the steps when you’re done.”

One hour and a narrowly avoided soup disaster later, she’s herding the others to the table when there’s another knock on the door.

“I, um, I stuck these in my bag without thinking.” Aubrey holds out the shears. In the porchlight, her eyes are red-rimmed and there’s a slight smear in the black lipstick on her upper lip.

“It happens. Jake, my roommate, once went a whole day with six boxes of poptarts in his bag because he got distracted while unloading groceries. Uh, if you’re not busy we’re just about to have dinner. Seems only polite to invite my biggest admirer.”

Aubrey raises her eyebrows.

“My, uh, the biggest admirer of my gardening?” Her cheeks are hot, but her flustered tone seems to relax Aubrey.

“Sure. I just have to make sure I get home in time to feed Dr. Harris Bonkers.” She grins and steps into the house.

It’s common for Amnesty residents to bring home friends (or strangers), so when Barclay spots Aubrey he simply ducks back into the kitchen for an extra set of cutlery and a bonus bowl. As always happens when Barclay cooks, everyone is too busy stuffing their faces for the first ten minutes of dinner to say much.

“So, Aubrey” Mama sips her tea, “what brings you to town?”

“I grew up here but, um, I left a few years ago to try and kickstart my career.”

“What do you do?”

Literal sparks fly from her guest’s fingertips as she wiggles them, “magic.”

“Whoah, sweet!” Jake leans forward, “do you do stunts?”

“Nah” Aubrey’s smile is brightening under the excitement, “I do sleight of hand, card tricks, that kind of thing. I like the classics. Lots of other people do too, but I hit a spell where no one was interested in booking me, so I came back here to regroup.”

“Smart thinkin’. Pretty much everyone here knows that tryin to make ends meet on the road can lead to serious trouble.”

“Or grand theft auto.” Dani smirks at Barclay.

“That was an accident!”

“Wait, what?” Aubrey laughs, the room feeling ten times brighter when she does, “how does that even happen?”

Barclay recounts the story, blushing all the while, then points out that at least he never got stuck halfway up an off-limits slope because he was daydreaming, and to which Jake responds that that’s not even in his top ten wipeouts, dude.

Aubrey hangs around, helping Dani with the dishes while they chat about childhood pets (Dani had a frog that required her to drop food on his head in order for him to notice it). When she finally re-laces her boots, her new friend is smiling constantly and Dani never wants to look at anything else.

“Hey, uh, tonight was really fun. Do you want to come by on Friday? I’m, uh, I’m cooking, so it won’t be as good as what Barclay made, but I’d love for you to try my breakfast salad. Oh, and my muffin. Muffins.”

“I’d love to. And don’t sell yourself short, flowergirl” Aubrey winks, shooting finger guns her way, “I bet your dinner is gonna rule.”

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

“What do you think? Too much?” Aubrey turns from the mirror. Dr. Harris Bonkers wiggles his nose.

“You’re right, the heels are too much. Gotta leave some plausible deniability. And be able to run away if this goes bad.” She tosses the black heels back into the closet and squeezes into the tiny bathroom to start on her make-up. It has to be perfect, or as perfect as she can get it in the mirror that’s inexplicably high up on the wall.

Yeesh, is getting ready to impress a cute girl really the thing making her consider moving back in with dad? It would be easier to find the right clothes if she had a space to hang them up in, instead of stacked boxes to dig through. But walking the streets where mom used to hold her hand, eating at the places they’d go for breakfast, all those vortexes of memories are hard enough to free herself from on their own. Sitting in the chair she used to, expecting to see her at the table or in the yard, those things would be too much.

It’s been easier since she found Amnesty. Since she found Dani. It’s hard to be stuck in the shadows of the past when there’s a beautiful ray of sunshine sitting next to you. She has dinner there most days now, practices her new routine while Dani updates the inventory for her online plant store.

Relatedly, Aubrey now has several rabbit-safe houseplants that Dani always offers to come check on. Aubrey’s actually pretty good with plants, but she’s not about to miss out on an evening sandwiched next to Dani on her futon and the ghost of jasmine perfume winding around her when she sleeps.

Amnesty is lit only by the string lights on the porch and the glow from the kitchen when Aubrey bounds up the stairs.

“Dani?”

“Oh, hey, you’re early.” Dani leans in the doorway of the kitchen and Aubrey’s brain sounds like a cartoon, nothing but “boiiings” and “wowzas” for a good ten seconds.

Dani’s hair is out of it’s usual messy bun, and instead of her overalls or patched jeans, she’s in a short, heather green tank-top dress. Getting on her knees to kiss the vine tattoos weaving up her legs would be too forward, but boy does she want to.

“Took an earlier bus just to be safe. Man, it’s so weird to be here when it’s this quiet.”

“No kidding; I can’t remember the last time I was the only one here.” Dani shoos her through the kitchen and out into the back garden. The little white table usually piled with tools is cleared of everything but a green tablecloth and two wine glasses. That’s another point in the “yes, this is a date” category. The first was that Dani was careful to emphasize that everyone would be gone for the night for camping, work, or ill-advised urban skate stunts.

“Sit your cute butt down, I’ll be right back with dinner.”

That’s the first butt-based compliment she’s gotten, so score one for this red skirt. When Dani comes back, Aubrey can’t help but bounce in her seat; her crush is carrying a board covered in fruit and bread, and she absolutely sees a fondue pot on the counter inside.

“Since Cheesy Heat closed, I thought I could recreate it for us. Kinda. Barclay said he thinks they used a super fancy cheese that’s hard to get here.”

“That’s probably why they went out of business. Dang, why so many fondue pots?”

“Barclay keeps getting them for Christmas.” She sets the chocolate one down next to the cheese, and when she tugs on her dress before sitting down Aubrey’s mouth waters from more than just the meal.

The stars come out as they take turns making a mess of the table cloth, but the longer she sits here, happier than she’s been in years, the more Aubrey knows she can’t put the question off.

“Why the fancy dinner tonight?”

Dani dabs her mouth with her napkin, “I, uh, I, Cheesy Heat was my go-to, uh” her voice drops to a whisper, “date place.”

“Ohthankgod.” Aubrey flops back in her chair, “this is a date.”

“Did you think it wasn’t?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t wanna, like, assume.”

“Fireblossom” Dani stands, making a little half circle to reach her, “the first time we met you were stealing from me assuming I wouldn’t notice.”

“To be fair, getting caught in petty theft is less terrifying than making an ass out of yourself in front of a hot girl.” She grins as Dani straddles her lap.

“...okay you’re right, I’d hate to embarrass myself in front of you. Again.”

“A girl who can run me down in sandals is pretty hot.”

“Pfft” Dani giggles, hides her face in Aubrey’s shoulder, “not as hot as a girl who can sprint while carrying a twelve pound rabbit.”

“Seventeen.” Aubrey kisses her cheek, whispers teasingly, “you shoulda told me this was a date, I could’ve brought flowers.”

“You can bring me some next time.” Dani sits up, smiling at her.

“Sweet, I know somewhere I can get them for free.” She bounces her eyebrows, making the vision of perfection in her lap laugh.

“Nope, this time it’ll cost you.”

“How much?”

Dani cups her cheeks and dives down for a kiss, Aubrey clinging to her dress and sighing as she slips her tongue between her lips.

“Few of those” Dani murmurs, brushing their noses together.

“I’m happy to pay them.”

[batfamscreaming]

superbat highschool au - Halloween

[warning for: non consensual kissing, implied abusive living situations]

As Halloween grew closer, Tommy (bundled up in the same scarf and loafers as Bruce) asked if anyone had plans for the evening. 

--

Clark hadn’t celebrated Halloween in a couple of years now. Not really. Maybe a Halloween party here or there but that was it. Houses were too far spaced out for trick-or-treat back home.

“Uh, I mean I think Bruce ‘n I were going to head to the library again, but--” Clark began, looking to the other boy for confirmation.

--

Bruce began to nod, but--

“No, Bruce and I are gonna go out on the town,” Tommy said, swinging his arm around Bruce’s shoulders and tugging him close. 

“...Tommy, curfew exists,” Bruce said, huffing a little. 

“Not if we break it, it doesn't,” he said, grinning. 

--

“Uh, okay. Is that an invitation then?” Clark smirked.

Breaking curfew once wouldn’t get him expelled.

--

“It can be,” Tommy said. “Harv?”

Harvey gave him a look that called him an idiot.  

“Gotham on Halloween?” he said. “You're not exactly strolling around the hill houses for candy.”

--

“Is it bad?” Clark asked. “I’ve actually never been off school grounds.”

He’d never seen the city.

--

“Halloween’s crazy for crime everywhere,” future lawyer Harvey Dent said flatly. “It's thematic.”

And if Gotham didn't follow a trend towards the thematic… whew. 

Bruce just seemed to be taking a moment to be stunned that Clark hadn't been anywhere outside the school. 

“Okay,” he said, turning to Tommy. “What’s the plan?”

“I was thinkin’ ice cream and bowling,” Tommy said, grinning. “You wanna plan our escape?”

(Bruce had been thinking too much about the library lately. It was time to steer him towards literally any other thinking direction)

And Bruce nodded, accepting that assignment. 

--

“Sounds fun.” Clark said, shrugging on his jacket.

“So how do you usually sneak out?”

--

“Badly,” Harvey said, still crossing his arms and clearly not pleased. 

“Dodge the guards. Hop the gate,” Bruce said. “Not hard. Easier with a rope. Getting in again’s worse.”

“Cause they actually expect it,” Tommy explained before there were any questions. 

“But at least we’re only on the second floor this year. If we weigh down the curtains and leave the window open it shouldn't be noticeable.”

--

“If it helps any I can jump pretty high,” Clark said. “So you shouldn’t have to worry much about me keeping up.”

Totally within normal human standards. Yes.

--

Bruce snorted. Laughed almost. 

“The gate’s ten feet at lowest,” he said. “Plus spikes.”

--

Clark was so stuck between keeping everything under cover and bragging. He could fly since he was 10. Ten feet was nothing. Ten feet was laughable.

He opened his mouth, swallowed, and sighed.

Dammit.

Keep it under wraps.

“Right.”

--

The boys just huddled together again, nodding and still discussing. “So, do we need rope? Or are we gonna be able to grip the bars?”

“I need the rope,” Harvey said miserably. 

“Got it,” Tommy said. “Leave it to me.”

“Please don't steal stuff and get us in more trouble when we get caught.”

“Never,” Tommy promised. “As if Bruce and I would get caught.”

(Bruce laughed then, but it was anxious for different reasons, then.)

--

“I’ll be able to grip the bars.” Clark said, for what little it was worth. For a moment he even considered offering to carry Harvey over on his back, but he thought maybe that was too much.

Could kids his age carry kids their own size on their backs?

He looked pensive for a moment.

…

No. Probably not.

“Anything I can help with?”

--

Tommy shook his head just as Bruce did. 

“Lay low,” Bruce said. “...have any hats?”

--

Clark thought about that before turning and digging through his things.

He slapped on an old, beat up John Deere baseball cap.

--

Bruce made a distressed face. 

“...have any other hats?”

--

“I gotta winter hat but it’s not that cold out.”

…

“What’s wrong with my hat?”

--

“That Bruce’s gotta wear it,” Tommy said, grinning. 

--

… Clark grinned, took off the hat, and shoved it onto Bruce.

--

“Nnnooo,” Bruce said, hat shoved onto his head and shoved down even more securely by Tommy. 

It tilted his dark hair out of place and looked completely out of place with his ironed white oxford and school blazer. 

--

“It suits ya.” Clark grinned.

It really didn’t.

--

“You're a shit liar,” Bruce said. 

“Quick, get the smallest shirt you have, Kent. He still sticks out too much!”

“Just use some of mi--” Harvey started to say. 

But that got hushed as Tommy urged them into a game of Bruce Dressup, and Halloween grew ever closer, until finally the night arrived.

--

Clark couldn’t do anything about Bruce’s very pressed pants, but he could find a small shirt for him.

‘Small’ being relative.

Bruce would drown in it a little, but at least in the end he didn’t stand out so much in his old ratty John Deere hat.

And when the night arrived he followed their lead.

--

….Bruce, unwillingly, donned the shirt and cap when it was finally time, looking a bit more like a ruffian with the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbow and the cap on his uncombed hair. 

It made him look shorter. His face seemed rounder. Almost puppyish. 

He was a very determined looking puppy as they rigged up their window so that the corner of the bunk bed jutted into view of the opening. 

Tommy had, indeed, acquired a rope from somewhere, and they tied one end into a loop, tossing it around the shallow jut of the bedpost and getting ready. 

Tommy was lookout as Bruce descended first. 

Then Harvey. They'd wait for Clark. Tommy last. They flicked the rope until it came loose from the bedpost, gathered it up, and raced to the gate, sneaking around the buildings and in the bushes in the low light. 

The gate was closed for the night, and they snuck under the desk guard to reach it. 

Again, Bruce took it first, climbing up between the bars using the traction on his shoe to get up. 

The rope was thrown over between the spokes at the top. Used to control their descent. 

He ushered Clark to mimic him once he'd made it to the other side and decided it was clear. Harvey had to have his foot in the loop and he pulled over to make it. 

Tommy went last again, staying behind to make sure Harvey had someone to catch him if he fell. 

And they were outside. 

--

It was hard for Clark to do things like these guys.

He… might have flown a little to descend out of the window a little faster, but kept his feet on the wall and his hands gripped to the rope so at least it looked like he was doing it like everyone else.

The gate though.

Ugh.

He tried to mimic Bruce as best he could, but it looked a little too… flawless. He didn’t strain or land on the other side very hard.

But they had made it.

… And outside, in the dark, there was even more light for his eyes to catch than usual.

--

He was lucky the boys were largely too focused on their own descents to notice. 

That streetlights were common enough to make his eyes look somewhat normal for the moment. 

Once they were on the street, Tommy and Harvey definitely took the lead, steering them up north of the academy, to a slightly more crowded--and festive--area. 

--

“Is this what you guys do every year?” Clark asked anyone who wanted to answer.

He always kinda wondered what these rich city kids did for fun.

--

“What? No way,” Tommy said. “I mean. That'd be nice…”

Harvey shook his head, too. His hands were wrapped around his elbows in a self-protective hug. “Normally wouldn't be able to get away with it.”

“Besides. Our old roommate was really bad at stuff,” Tommy added. “Like not getting all of us in trouble.”

“Spent last year in detention,” Bruce mumbled. 

(By now, Clark knew that didn't necessarily mean Bruce had done anything to deserve detention. 

It could've just been he'd been around while someone did something. Or been the dorm mate of someone who did something. 

...Harvey’s caving to come made more sense if he would just be punished anyway, if they were caught.)

--

“So, what, you just spend Halloween in your dorm studying? That’s… a lot less than I expected out here.” Clark said, not looking as defensive as maybe he should have been in Gotham of all places, hands in his pockets and head up.

Casual.

--

(Bruce kept his head down and the baseball cap over his eyes.)

“...what did you think we did?” Bruce asked. “Orgies? I'm taking you out for ice cream and bowling, Kent.”

--

“I dunno… parties? I thought that's what rich kids did. Go to clubs. Drink. That kinda thing.”

“... Not that I'm saying I want to do those things, but…” Clark shrugged.

--

All the same, all three kids had paused in walking to stare at him. 

“...I wouldn't even be able to set foot out of the house if Mom had her way,” Tommy said, staring. 

“....” Bruce just had that look on his face. 

“Hey. I worked my way in,” Harvey said. 

“I did too!” said Tommy, turning on Harvey a little. “I had to barter to get here.”

“...”

Bruce shuffled a little closer to Clark and breathed out, “their dads are the ones who drank all night.”

And that was all he mumbled before trying to step forward and break up the fight again. 

The bowling alley would close, late hours or not, if they didn't get a-moving. 

--

“Oh.” He mumbled to Bruce, and started walking too.

“Sorry, I guess the TV makes you think one thing even when it isn't very true. Sounds like I get it more'n you guys.”

--

Once more they turned, surprised. 

“You've fucked?” Tommy said. 

He had definitely pegged Clark for a virgin. 

--

Clark nearly tripped over his own feet.

“N-no!! No! God.”

He was beet red.

--

“Did you mean ‘out’?’” Harvey asked, baffled, at the same time as Tommy said, “oh. Okay. Harv still has company then, at least.”

Bruce could finally see the bowling alley coming up. Extended hours for the weekend. 

Ice cream parlor across the street. 

Yes. 

--

“Ugh, shut up.” Clark groaned, following them while rubbing his face to try and get some of the red from his cheeks.

--

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy said, dropping it as they ducked into the building. It was much warmer inside. “...it's not like we have the money to get into clubs or buy alcohol, though. Seriously.”

“TV,” Harvey shrugged, quietly trying to reassure Clark a little that it was fine. 

--

“What’d ya mean? You at least get an allowance, right?” Clark said.

“Even I get an allowance. Or at least paid a little when I help out on the farm.”

--

….Harvey shook his head. “...my family doesn't have the money for an allowance, anyway.”

Tommy just scowled. “If I see any of my dad’s money it'll be long after mom’s died.”

…

Meanwhile, Bruce ducked his head, and pulled out a ten dollar bill, handing it to Tommy, who took it and huffed up to the counter to pay, being the one who was clearly not dark-haired Bruce Wayne in a baseball cap and oversized shirt. 

“...I get an allowance,” he admitted. “But it's not like I’m going to hike ten miles into the city from the manor to use it.”

--

“Jeeze…” He mumbled over Tommy talking about his mom needed to die for him to get his dad’s money.

“I guess that makes sense.” He said to Bruce again, watching Tommy pay for them.

“Thanks for treatin’ us though.”

Even if it made sense Bruce would pay for it. Still polite to thank him.

--

Bruce smiled a little. “Yeah. No problem. It's nice to get out. Thanks for the hat.”

“Shoooes!!” Tommy called once he'd paid, waving them over to change. 

A four player game was being set up for them, the first letters of their names being their designations. 

And ready to go. 

A night away.

--

Clark smiled back.

He got his change of shoes and then looked around for the heaviest ball they had. It still wouldn’t be enough to offset his throw, but it would help. It was easier not to look too strong when you needed to roll it rather than throw it. It was just a matter of dialing back the momentum.

His first throw though it went way too fast. Nothing that would break everything in its way, but still just too fast.

Shit.

He would try and hide his distressed face and play it off and… dial it back for the one after that.

--

The desk manager warned him the ball was probably way too heavy, but thankfully, the other three boys seemed to tack up his wild throw to weight and momentum, laughing wildly as it careened impressively fast-- into the gutter. 

“Beautiful!” Tommy whistled at him. 

“Like you'll do any better,” Harvey said. 

(And Tommy did not.)

But after a few rounds, everyone was adjusting a little better to the balls, and…

Bruce sat beside Clark while waiting his turn, and jeered the others when they missed just like they did him. 

And… seemed relaxed and happy for once. 

Smiling. 

--

“Hah!” Clark hollered as Tommy did just as poorly as him.

As the night went on though he did get used to rolling the ball down the lane and compensating for how little it weighed to him in comparison.

It was a lot of fun.

He cheered and jeered everyone when they did well or poorly, jabbing them with words just the same as they did him. He tended to stick to Bruce more than Harvey or Tommy. They had grown to know each other a lot better over the past month working on their Court of Owls stuff.

It was good.

This was fun.

He was clapping and laughing along with the rest of them, and upon noticing Bruce looked happy too he would give him a little nudge and a smile.

Happy to see him happy.

--

Bruce had gotten a lot better at being casual with Clark with their search together the last month, but-- 

It wasn't as if he smiled much during the investigating. It wasn't like he was giddy over crime scenes. Any excitement he had about finding a pattern quickly turned to seriousness as soon as he had to explain what he’d noticed. 

And in school, he said little. Let people part in front of him or walk by him without any seeming preference. 

But here, finally, it was just fun. 

...through some twist of fate, Harvey’s score was highest at the end of the game. 

They had no real way they planned to reward the winner. But it was fine if they just mocked Bruce's place in dead last. 

He had wonderful aim, after all--if he was aiming for the gutter. 

But when the game ended, Bruce trotted over to the shoes, picking up his and Clark’s, and bringing them back over to change quietly before heading across the street for the last half hour the ice cream parlor would be open. 

Bruce didn't have to tell Tommy what he wanted--a float--but Tommy would ask the other two before trotting up once more with Bruce’s cash in hand to pay and order at the counter while the four slid into a booth. 

And maybe because Tommy was up paying, Bruce found himself sliding in beside Clark to sit across from Tommy, instead of beside him for once. 

--

Clark’s choice of ice cream was pretty much the most boring of all; a vanilla shake.

He sat on the inside by the window, and didn’t think twice about Bruce sliding in beside him.

“How often have you gone bowling before, Harvey?”

--

Harvey shook his head. A lot. “Almost none? I think in Jr High we went once as a class trip, but I was terrible at it.”

“Harv has two settings,” Bruce said, leaning his chin on his hand and very carefully not putting his elbow on the table. “Professional, and worst luck ever.”

--

Clark snorted, “Man now I feel worse, I go bowling like… at least once a year when my friends and I are bored back home. It’s one of the few things to do back in Smallville.”

--

“Yeah?” Bruce said, leaning in a little, interested. “You've mentioned your town a couple times. What's it like?”

--

“Lives up to the name.” Clark smiled. “Small. Bowling alley, gas station, market. Got one street light in the whole town. The farm is about five miles from the center of town, you gotta have a car or a bike to get anywhere.”

“People always hang out by the train tracks or the ol’ Glott farm that’s cavin’ in on itself.”

--

“Does it rain any less?” Harvey asked, a little sardonic, but still listening all the same. 

It was about then that Tommy came back with their ice cream. 

Vanilla shake. Two root beer floats. A sundae. 

But when he made it to the table, he paused before setting things down, as if he had to… look around and see where they were all sitting for a second. 

--

“Yeah but we gotta worry about tornados way more.” Clark said, and was already reaching for his shake since he was the only one to get one by the looks of things.

“Thanks Tommy.”

--

“Y’welcome,” Tommy said, and... passed out the rest. 

Sundae for Harvey. Floats for him and Bruce. He sat across from Bruce at the table, and didn't interrupt the conversation. Just started to drink silently through his straw. 

“...are tornadoes actually like what they say?” Bruce asked. “I read they can pick up a carton of eggs and just set them down miles away, completely intact.”

--

“Oh yeah, they’re capable of some crazy stuff. After one I saw someone’s record just… stuck in a tree. Like it was a razor blade. Powerlines bent over like they were made of playdough. Then sometimes it’ll set a full can of soda down on someone’s steps without a dent.”

He took a sip from his milkshake, oblivious to anything amiss with Tommy.

--

It was a nice way to ease into the later part of the night. A nice wind-down from bowling as they asked questions about Kansas and what it was like to live on a farm. In a small town. 

When his float was almost drained, Bruce stood, saying, “bathroom, be right back,” and turned to head to the back of the shop. 

“Me too,” said Tommy, following along behind him a moment later, wobbling to get out of the table with his long legs. 

(They turned a corner and headed into the boy’s bathroom, and once they were there, door shut against anyone listening, Tommy said, “Bruce?”)

--

“Okay,” Clark said, and thought nothing of it. He slurped the last of his shake through his straw.

But he did overhear their conversation, whether he intended to or not.

--

Neither did Harvey, who had gotten content to just sit and listen after a while, and was now just quietly watching the street go by, trying to find room in himself to finish up his sundae. 

(“Hm?” Bruce said. 

“Are you mad at me?”

“What? No. Why would I be mad at you?”

“You’ve been avoiding me, lately,” said Tommy.)

--

… Clark turned and looked in the direction of the bathroom.

He didn’t look too hard. Not yet. But he was definitely listening.

As far as he knew Bruce wasn’t mad at Tommy at all.

Nothing had changed.

--

“Don't lie to me,” Tommy said, voice no louder, but a thousand times more sharp than it'd been a moment before. 

There was a stutter in Bruce’s heart. 

“We tell each other everything,” he said. “I told you everything. And now all you do is hang out with Clark.”

“...we’re just looking stuff up,” Bruce said, voice low and careful. “It's just hanging out. It's different.”

“Really? Because you barely ask to just hang out with me. You were gonna be with him before I got this plan together, you remember?”

There was a footstep. A set of footsteps. Shuffling around. 

--

Clark narrowed his eyes.

He glanced at Harvey, then leaned his head in his hands to try and hide the line of sight to his eyes as they glowed blue and looked harder.

Into the boy’s bathroom.

--

He'd find them both shuffled into the two-stall bathroom, neither in stalls. Just Bruce taking a step back towards the back wall, and the tail end of Tommy moving forward, teeth clenched in distress. 

“It's not like that,” Bruce said, keeping his voice certain, even if he didn't look it. “We came along, we went with your plan, didn't we? You're still my best friend, Tommy, come on--”

“Prove it,” Tommy said. 

“What?” said Bruce, furrowing his nose. 

“I told you everything Bruce,” Tommy said, and took a step forward once more, even without Bruce moving back. “So if you really care then just--”

And Tommy had pushed Bruce by the shoulders against the wall, and pushed their mouths together. 

For a long, silent moment, Bruce just stared, unresponsive at him. 

Then, he reeled back with a punch, and slammed Tommy flat on his back. 

--

Before Clark knew it he had crushed his now empty shake glass in his hand.

“Gnnhshit.” He mumbled, blinking hard and looking away from the bathroom.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

The woman working behind the counter was already looking up and heading towards their booth to see what happened.

--

Harvey practically jumped in his seat at the shattering, turning to stare. “Oh, crap! Are you okay?!”

He grabbed a napkin and started trying to help, dabbing up the spilled milkshake and reaching for Clark’s hand to check for injuries. 

--

“Yeah, I’m-- yeah I’m fine.”

He showed him his hand.

No blood. No glass stuck in it.

“What happened over here?” The woman asked, and Clark mumbled out something that was hard to hear. Something like ‘wasn’t paying attention’ and ‘sorry’.

--

“There must've been a crack in the glass,” Harv reasoned, helping her pick the glass up from the floor and countertop. “It just broke while you were holding it?”

From the back of the shop, two boys exited the bathroom.

“Did something happen?” Bruce asked, coming over. 

(Tommy was quiet, behind him.)

--

Clark started to help too.

“Broke my glass.” Was all he managed, still a little too stunned to say much.

“You kids be careful, I’ll clean this up. Don’t worry about it.” The woman said, trying to shoo them off lest they end up cutting themselves.

--

The other three figured he was stunned from his glass exploding in his hand, and they shyly backed off a bit as the waitress shooed them.

“Sorry about this-- here,” he said, and shuffled in his pocket. 

He pulled out a five. 

“Whatever doesn't replace the glass is a tip,” he said, handing it to her. 

--

“Sorry.” Clark said again, and carefully got out of the booth, picking any glass off his lap if there was any.

“Thank you young man.” The woman said, not recognizing who it was handing her the money.

--

“It's no problem,” he said, but even though she didn't recognize him at that moment, he still was hit by an overwhelming urge to put the cap on and hurry the group outside. 

If Clark had ice cream in his lap, it was wiped off with napkins, and Tommy said, at some point, “we should probably head back.”

He and Bruce left their floats unfinished, and were ready to get out the door. 

--

“Yeah. Good idea.” Clark said, and quickly started to walk towards the door.

God.

Shit.

Things were going to be so awkward back in the dorm.

Should he ask Bruce about it??

--

Bruce and Tommy said nothing. Nothing at all about what happened. 

They followed Tommy and Harvey back to the Academy’s gates and took the rope out of Harv’s bag to throw it up again and get them all over. 

Bruce first. The surest climber. Clark. Harvey. 

Tommy picked up last. A sure climber, but big enough to catch them if they fell. 

They snuck back on campus. Lassoed the end of the bed in their window, and rock climbed their way up the building in reverse order. Tommy lookout up top to keep the knot stable. Bruce, surest climber, getting up when no one would be there to catch him if he fell. 

...once they were on campus, all three boys fell into their usual quiet, reserved for avoiding detection after hours, but still-- Harvey said, quietly, “...thanks for doing this. I think I needed to have a day.”

“Course,” Tommy said, stripping to his Pjs and grinning. “Anytime.”

Bruce nodded too. 

“It was a good idea.”

...he returned the hat. The shirt. 

He tugged on his night clothes too. 

As if nothing had happened. 

--

Clark followed them all in, kicking off his shoes and sitting on the edge of his bed as everyone wound down.

“... Yeah. Was fun.” He said, trying to sound convincing.

It was already way past hours and he didn’t want to risk sneaking out in his street clothes, so even he changed into his pajamas in the room too. At least the lights were off so maybe they wouldn’t notice anything weird.

Not that he was… that weird. A little more jacked than a sixteen year old should be, but it was dark, so…

He hurried through it and climbed into bed.

--

...tonight, they were all a little too distracted to really notice. 

Even Bruce was too tired to have one of his quiet nightmares, which surprised even him upon waking. 

...and upon waking, Tommy and Bruce would get changed together as usual. 

Head off to class after sitting together at breakfast. 

No hint of what had occurred between them the night before.

--

Clark changed in the bathroom again that morning. He was still too self-conscious to do it around everyone else.

He didn't mention anything to anyone. He ate breakfast with the others, went to classes even if it was just him and Tommy in the same one.

Waited until that evening when again it was just him and Bruce walking to the library.

“Hey, so… last night.”

…

“You and Tommy fight or anything? I thought I heard something when we got ice cream.”

--

There was an uptick in Bruce’s heart rate, but his confused expression revealed nothing of the sort. 

“No? Maybe you heard him spook me when I got out of the stall. Wasn't expecting him.”

--

Ah.

“Okay, yeah. Maybe.” Is what he said instead though rather than keep prying. “Just checking that you guys are okay.”

--

“...why wouldn't we be?” Bruce asked, his own thoughts loud panic bells that couldn't be heard by anyone else. 

No one could know. Even if Bruce didn't want it. That didn't matter as much as Tommy had done it and Bruce was a boy. 

And he didn't want to know what their teachers, or the press, or Tommy’s Mom would do if they found out. 

“Is something wrong?”

--

“Tommy seemed kinda distracted I guess. Quiet. Normally he doesn't shut up.” Clark tried to huff a laugh.

“But maybe I'm reading too much into it. I was kinda distracted too.”

--

“He might be tired,” Bruce said, making a mental note to tell Tommy to talk more. (Maybe it’d even make him happy.) “or dreading break,  now that it's officially November.”

November. 

Clark had made it to the third month. 

--

“Dreading-- oh right, he doesn't seem to like his mom very much.” Clark said, wanting to get off the topic he brought up.

“Man I can't wait to go home and visit.”

--

“...it hasn't been a good couple years between them, yeah,” Bruce admitted. “...what are you going to do at home?”

--

Clark shrugged, “See my friends. See Ma ‘n Pa? Pet my dog?” He chuckled.

“... What do you do on break?”

--

“....” Bruce needed to think a moment. “Walk. Mostly.”

--

“... Walk?”

It sounded so weird Clark needed to make sure he heard right.

--

...he nodded. 

“Around the grounds. I walk. Maybe read.”

He would definitely read. But. 

Even he got tired of reading. 

A massive manor with nothing to do in it but wander. 

--

…

“Don't have any other family to spend Christmas with?”

--

He shook his head. 

“...the Kanes, I guess. But no. We’re Jewish, anyway.”

“...and Tommy and Harvey’s parents won't let them escape long enough for coming over.”

…

“It's fine,” he said, already sensing the look on Clark’s face. “It's been like this for years. It's not upsetting or anything. Just dull.”

--

“Oh.”

…

“Would you wanna come spend it at my place?”

-- 

Bruce turned to look at him, startled. 

“Huh?”

Like he hadn't quite understood for a moment. 

--

“Do you wanna come spend break at my house? In Smallville?” Clark asked again as though Bruce hadn't heard.

“I'd have to call my parents but I don't think they'd say no.”

--

Before he'd even said he wanted to, Bruce was doing math in his head. 

Clark had been open about how his family couldn't really afford GA. Last minute decision to come. If they couldn't afford that with only one kid it might be rough to take in another and 

(Okay. Okay. What do I have to do to get out. How much money. What did he have to do.)

“Yeah,” he said, calculating the price of a plane ticket if Alfred tried to say ‘no.’ Taxi fee. Plane ticket. Get out. “Yeah, if they say yes-- they don't have to worry about much from me, I can pay for my own food and room if they need me to.”

--

Clark laughed a little, “You don't have to pay for room ‘n food. Maybe bus ticket though.” He stopped and looked around for one of the school's pay phones.

“You got a quarter?”

He would need to call and ask. Letters were too slow for this.

--

Bruce didn't usually carry the money around school, but he dropped his book bag and started rooting around in it for a stray quarter in the bottom, finally coming up victorious. 

--

“Nice, thanks.”

Clark took it and walked over to one of the phones bolted to the wall, pushing in his money before dialing back home.

“Hey Ma. … I'm good. Um, question actually. Would you mind if a friend comes over for break? His name is Bruce. … Nah he's-- well he's Jewish but he usually spends it alone, so-- yeah. He can buy his own ticket don't worry about it. Can he use the guest room? Cool.”

Then he paused.

“Uhhhhhhh okay. Hold on.”

He held the phone to Bruce. “She wants to talk to you.”

--

Bruce’s spine was straight as a rail and his shoulders set, the way they always were when he knew exactly what he wanted and was staring down something in his way. 

He nodded and took the phone. 

“Yes, ma’am?” he said. 

--

“Hello, Bruce? Clark says you're thinkin’ about staying with us over break. I'm fine with that but I need to know, have you run this by your parents?” A kind-sounding woman on the other end asked.

“Oh my god.” Clark groaned, having not gotten to that part yet with her and able to overhear it over the phone. He mouthed a 'sorry’ at Bruce.

--

“My guardian will be fine with it,” Bruce said, not letting a pang of anything show on his face. “He's been hoping I'd find someone to be with.”

--

“... Really?” The woman on the other end said. “I know you boys are at school but is there any way I can call your… ‘guardian’ and make sure?”

Clark was rubbing his eyes.

--

“Yes,” he said. “And if you tell him we called Kansas he’ll handle the distance fee.”

Fine. Fine. 

He gave her the manor phone number. 

“Let me call him real fast and make sure he knows.”

He mouthed to Clark, ‘kidnapping plot,’ and rolled his eyes. 

--

Clark gave him a ‘really??’ look like he didn’t quite believe it, but said nothing.

“Okay, thank you Bruce. Is there anything I should know before you come over? Allergies…?”

--

Bruce nodded, looking bored as sin thinking about it. 

He had to let Alfred know the nice lady on the phone was not trying to get permission to sneakily kidnap him or else he'd never get out of here. 

“No, nothing like that.”

--

“Okay, I’ll make up the guest bed for you. Mind handing the phone back to Clark?”

--

“Alright.”

He did. Handed the phone back. 

Listened from the short distance between them. 

You didn't need super hearing to do that. And Bruce’s ears were still sharper than most. 

--

Clark took the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Is this the Bruce you’ve been writing home about?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure his parents are going to be okay with it?”

“Guardian, Ma. He’s got a guardian. And yeah, probably.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

“Oh. Ohhhh. Okay, honey.”

Clark thunked his head onto the side of the payphone and looked like he would rather die. “So it’s cool? You don’t have to worry about him getting there or anything. He can afford a bus--” He paused and turned to look at Bruce.

“You gonna get a bus ticket and come with me or like…?”

--

“However I should get there,” he said, letting Clark suffer. “...might have to borrow your hat again for the first part, if it's a bus from here.”

--

“Yeah he’s gonna get a bus ticket with me.” Clark said. “Anyway we got studyin’ to do so--”

“Okay honey. I’ll call Bruce’s guardian tonight to make sure. But I guess I’ll see you in a few weeks?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Love you, sweetie.”

“.... Love you too, Ma.” Clark said a little quieter before saying goodbye and hanging up.

--

“You've been writing to her about me?” was the first thing out of Bruce’s mouth. 

--

“Yeah?” Clark said. “I told her I made friends with my roommates. If I didn’t tell her that she’d think I was miserable and alone.”

“... Mentioned we’ve been working on a report, but that’s it really.”

--

… “Oh, okay,” Bruce said, not really sure what the knot in his chest (which was normal to have) meant right now, and whether it was loosening or tightening at that. 

“I'll call Alfred,” he said, starting to dig around for another quarter in his bag. “You can go ahead if you want.”

--

“Nah man, I wanna see if he really does think this is a kidnapping plot.” Clark grinned, leaning up against the wall.

--

“Ugh,” Bruce said, rolling his eyes again and shoving in the quarter. “I'm doing it so he doesn't.”

He dialed a number. Waited. 

“Hello. Alfred Pennyworth. You've reached the Wayne Estate.”

“Hi Alfred,” Bruce said. “I'm going to Kansas for winter break.”

--

“Pennyworth.” Clark whispered in disbelief.

What. A. Name.

--

Bruce turned back to look at him. Whispered: “I could've been a millionaire named ‘Pennyworth.’”

“Oh? I see it's all already been decided then, has it Master Bruce?”

--

“Master Bruce?”

Clark was grinning from ear to ear, like this was the most hilarious thing he’d ever heard.

Holy crap was he glad he stuck around for this conversation.

--

That one, Bruce kicked him for. 

“...I'm just going to stay with my roommate for a bit. Okay?”

“I see. And which roommate moved to Kansas, again?” Alfred sounded dry. 

“...the new one’s from there,” Bruce said. “Look, his mom’s going to call tonight and make sure it's alright. I've still got plenty of allowance. I'll just pack weekend clothes and head out from school.”

“...I see. Are you sure you wouldn't like to--”

“Yes.”

…

The other side of the phone was quiet for a while. Bruce just stared down at the buttons. 

“Of course,” Pennyworth finally said. “...but please. Try to keep me more upbraided on things, wouldn't you?”

“It's not hard to find o--”

“I’d just like to not have to go searching all the time is all,” Alfred interrupted. And Bruce went silent again. “...I'm glad you've found someone to spend break with. I'll let his mother know it's fine.”

“...thanks, Alfred,” Bruce said. 

And he hung up without saying goodbye. 

--

Clark didn’t move from the kick, but his amusement died a little when things got… not exactly antagonizing between the two, but not fully great either.

“... I’m sure my mom will give him our address and everything.” Clark said when Bruce was finished, pushing himself from the wall so they could start towards the library again.

--

Bruce nodded. Headed off still feeling good about getting out, but… 

Alfred made it hard sometimes. 

“Yeah. He'll ask. What are we looking for tonight?”

--

“Left off with the Belinsky murders.”

[kaalamarii]

XOXO (MammonxMC)

This was written for @lumiere-morningstar 💛

Summary: From the chat where Mammon gets a letter he thinks is from MC. MC writes him a letter everyday and Mammon puts them aside, thinking they’re just from Lucifer.

Warnings: Sad Mammon, fluff

Masterlist

“Here,” MC said, standing in front of Mammon. He was sprawled out on the couch in the common room scrolling through his D.D.D. He looked up, cocking an eyebrow at the pretty girl before him. 

She tossed the envelope in her hand down to him and it landed in his lap. 

“What’s this?” Mammon asked, turning the envelope over in his hands.

“Just...read it in your room, okay? Not out here.”

Mammon felt his heart flutter as MC walked off, leaving him there to hold the envelope in his hand.

A sealed envelope from MC...that he was to read in his room? Mammon couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. A love letter...MC just gave HIM a love letter!

Mammon’s heart was beating, his hands shaking as he gripped the letter, speed walking to his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the door, holding the letter to his chest. 

An actual love letter. From MC. 

Finally, it was confirmed. MC felt the same for him as he felt for her. I need to get her a present, Mammon thought. Something nice. Something expensive. 

But first, he had to brag. 

(Mammon:) Ahem.

Oh boy, he couldn’t wait till his stupid brothers heard about this.

(Mammon:) AHEM!

(Mammon:) HEY! Someone say somethin’!

(Belphie:) No way. I get the feeling it’s going to be something annoying.

(Levi:) Yeah, tell me about it. 

Mammon scoffed. Rude. Every last one of ‘em. 

(Mammon:) A-H-E-M!

(Satan:)Okay, fine. I don’t care what it is, so just say it already.

(Asmo:) It sounds like he wants to brag about something.

Mammon smiled proudly, sending the ‘Yes!’ sticker. 

(Mammon:) Listen up and be amazed! I, The Great Mammon, have received a love letter from MC!

(Belphie:) Huh? 

(Levi:) He must be hallucinating again.

(Mammon:) I’m not hallucinatin’! It’s a letter inside a pretty lil envelope? What else could it be besides a love letter?

(Beel:) you mean you haven’t opened it yet?

(Mammon:) Well, it’s kinda sealed shut. Besides, can’t a guy savor the moment a bit before he opens it?

(Belphie:) Wow, I never pegged you as the type.

(Mammon:) Hey! Whaddya mean by that?

I’ll have ya know I’m quite the gentleman! Besides, MC told me to read the letter by myself in my room ❤

And that’s exactly what I plan on doin’.

(Satan:) Well open it up then, “Mr. Gentleman”

(Levi:) Yeah, I don’t think you will be savoring the moment for long after you take a look at what’s inside.

(Mammon:) Ugh, fine! Gimme a moment.

Mammon took a deep breath, shakily and carefully opening the envelope. This was it. He’d finally know for sure that she returned his feelings. Then, she’d be his, and only his. It was like a dream come true, he’d be able to hold her, kiss her, and go on dates with her.

He pulled the letter out and unfolded it.

The demon’s face fell, and he sank to the floor, holding the letter in one hand and the envelope in the other.

(Belphie:) Mammon’s grown awfully silent.

(Lucifer:)That is because the ‘love letter’ is from me. Although I call it an “official written demand of repayment.”

(Levi:)Ha! What a noob, lol.

Mammon felt an aching in his heart and tears started to fall from his eyes, landing on the long list of debts. Every ounce of excitement, of hope, every thought of he and MC being happy and in love, shattered. Mammon balled up the paper and threw it across the room.

He was angry at Lucifer, but he expected something like this from Lucifer. But not MC. MC didn’t make fun of Mammon like his brothers did. She never called him stupid or scum. She even stood up for him most of the time. Mammon couldn’t believe MC was a part of this cruelty. That hurt a hundred times more than anything his brothers could say to him, any torture Lucifer had for him.

Mammon wiped his eyes, getting up to grab his precious Goldie. He stormed out of the house, determined to max out the credit card to get his mind off MC’s betrayal.

**

“I haven’t seen Mammon in a couple days,” MC stated at breakfast, looking over at the chair next to her where the second born always sat.

“Oh, he ran off to sulk,” Lucifer replied nonchalantly. “I gave him a list of things he needs to pay off.”

“Is that what was in the envelope you had me give to him?”

“Yep.”

Leviathan’s laugh interrupted the conversation. “That moron thought it was actually from MC. As if MC would be interested in a scumbag like Mammon.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” MC shook her head. “You gave me a letter to give to Mammon so he’d think it was from me?”

“Of course. Why else would I have you deliver it?”

“I just thought it was because I’m always with him.”

“Sure,” Satan offered up, “But also if Mammon knew the letter was from Lucifer, he wouldn’t have opened it.”

“Exactly,” said Lucifer, agreeing with Satan for once.

“That’s kinda fucked up, don’t you think?”

“Mammon’s fucked up,” Satan responded. 

Asmo sighed. “Seriously MC, I don’t know why you’re so close with Mammon. He acts nice to you, but he’d sell you for a few Grimm.”

MC scoffed. “No, he wouldn’t.”

“Mammon is scum,” Levi spoke up again. “Don’t feel bad for him.”

“Wow,” MC replied, getting up to leave. “You should all really think about how you treat Mammon.”

Heading back to her room, she grabbed a pen and notebook out of her backpack and sat down to write.

Mammon,

I heard you wanted a letter from me. 

I’m so sorry that your brothers are dicks to you. I don’t think you’re scum, Mammon. I think you’re sweet and smart and funny, and I love spending time with you. 

You’re pretty much my best friend. 

Love, MC

P.S. Sorry for giving you that letter from Lucifer. I didn’t know what he was up to, I promise. Xoxo

She sealed in it an envelope and wrote his name with a heart. She snuck to Mammon’s room and set it on his pillow. MC was a bit embarrassed by what she wrote, hoping he wouldn’t find it creepy or weird. She wished that he’d be back soon.

**

Mammon snuck in late after being gone for a week, body and head exhausted and hungover, he crawled into bed and passed out. 

When he woke up, he yawned and stretched before noticing the letter on the bed next to him. He picked it up, scoffed, and tossed it across the room. 

There was a new envelope everyday. 

Somedays, MC would slip them under his door. Sometimes she’d hand them directly to him. They’d be waiting for him in his room, on his bed again, on his couch. Each time, Mammon would feel a pang in his stomach. He so badly wanted to open them. Maybe one would actually be a letter from her.

But of course it wouldn’t be. 

MC would never see him like that. Why would she? Mammon was nothing but a greedy, scummy, piece of shit. His brothers made that clear, and now they had MC joining forces with them.

So the pile of letters grew, a small mountain of various colored envelopes.

When he gets one with a lipstick kiss on the envelope, Mammon loses it. He grabs the pile of discarded envelopes and storms to Lucifer’s office, dumping all of them onto the desk directly on top of whatever Lucifer was working on.

“Mammon, what the f-”

“Ya gotta stop doin’ this to me, Lucifer. Look, I’ll repay everything. I’ll go get a job or something, but please, please, stop getting MC to give me these. I get my hopes up and I know they’re just bills and I can’t anymore. It’s killin’ me.”

Mammon was embarrassed at how emotional he was being, whining and crying to his older brother.

Lucifer stared at the envelopes. “Mammon, these aren’t from me.”

“Whaddya sayin’! Of course they are!” 

“No, they’re not.” Lucifer picked up one and ripped it open.

Mammon,

I know you don’t read these which I guess is why I keep writing them. I know that makes no sense. But it helps to write about my feelings for you. It’s a relief to be able to tell you how much I love you, cause I know I can never do it in person.

xoxo,

MC

“Oh...um, Mammon. I think you should read these.”

“You guys are probably just playing tricks on me again.”

Lucifer shoved the letter in Mammon’s face. Mammon wiped his eyes and read over the letter, his heartbeat speeding up.

“This is really her handwriting,” he said in shock.

Lucifer nodded.

“The stupid human really wrote all of these.”

Mammon grinned like mad, gathering all of the letters and rushing back to his room. He threw them onto his bed and sat, cross legged, reading each and every one of them.

A few of them were simple doodles of the two of them and Goldie. Most of them had words of encouragement for him, telling him that she thought he was sweet and a good person (Despite being a literal demon). In every single one was confessions of love and appreciation.

Mammon brought out his D.D.D. and text MC, telling her to come to his room.

MC was thrilled to get a text from Mammon. They hadn’t been spending a lot of time together, and he had barely spoken to her since the day of the first letter. MC slipped on some leggings and an oversized t-shirt and got to Mammon’s room as quickly as she could.

When she saw the opened letters on the bed with him, she grew red. Oh shit.

“Um...you opened the letters.”

Mammon nodded. “Whaddya thinkin’, writing letters like this for me?”

“Mammon, I’m sorry...just f-forget you ever read them.”

“Are you kiddin’ me? You’re the only one who’s ever nice to me, ya know? And now I know how you really feel…”

MC groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

“Of course ya like the Great Mammon! Everyone does. But, uh, iloveyoutooMC.”

“Wait, what?” MC peeked from behind her hand. “Did you just say…”

“Yeah, yeah. Come ‘ere, you!” 

Mammon gently grabbed MC’s arm, pulling her to him and pressing his lips to hers. She smiled against his lips. They fell back onto his bed, ripped envelopes and love letters crumbled underneath them. MC rested her head on Mammon’s chest as he pulled her close, both of them smiling wide.

“Does this mean I can stop writing you letters?”

“Ya better not! I expect one first thing tomorrow.”

Mammon planted a small kiss on the top of her head. 

Finally, he knew for sure that the human was his. 

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 6 - Going Home

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, bitter to bittersweet, 2.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is my bestie who makes me these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

The next morning was uncharacteristically cloudy. It took the boys a long time to climb out of bed. Reggie was sprawled over most of the larger bed, and Bobby seemed to have stolen the covers (and Reggie’s teddy bear) to compensate for being curled up into one corner. Luke was face down on the couch and somehow not suffocating to death. Alex had lain awake for a while, staring out the window and watching the light slowly creep further into the room. He’d tried sleeping more and eventually his head was buzzing with too many thoughts to keep it up any longer.

It already felt like years from yesterday. Everything was this image of beautiful long hair and dark brown eyes that were a world away, and yet they had more gravity in them than he’d ever seen. Alex was ruined for tie-dye and puka shells for the rest of his life. He knew he’d see nothing else but Willie in them. Skateboards were in a whole other category. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d just attached himself to another person besides Luke, Reggie, and Bobby.

He heard Reggie roll out of bed and enter the bathroom, and the motion caused the whole room to stir. Luke lifted his head, and after some confused staring at the arm of the couch, turned on his side and sighed heavily. A tired smile came across his face, and he had that besotted sort of look to him - the one the rest of the guys had associated with ‘Julie on the mind’ - and Alex finally understood. Did he look like that now, too?

Bobby sat up abruptly, a look of sleepy disorientation on his face. Reggie’s bear was clutched tightly to his chest, and he had to look down and realize it was there before gently setting it down on Reggie’s side. Luke simply gave him a puzzled look as he wordlessly climbed out of the bed and went to push Reggie over and share the bathroom sink to shave. Alex absent-mindedly ran his hand over the bottom half of his face, feeling the still-smooth skin underneath his fingers.

The morning was full of light chatter, most of them still too tired to gush about the night before. It was already too late to enjoy the continental breakfast the hotel served, and after each of them finished getting ready and packing, they all looked around at each other.

“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’, boys?” Luke said. Reggie’s stomach growled loudly in the pause that followed.

“I’m gonna guess we find food?” Reggie responded.

“Yeah,” Alex said. “I’m pretty sure he’s talking about where.”

All three of them looked at Alex expectantly and he blinked back at them.

“Are you guys just gonna stare or are we gonna eat?” he joked dryly.

They all headed down to the lobby and checked out, dumping their luggage in the van. Even though no one had mentioned the diner, there seemed to be the silent agreement that that’s where they were going. Alex briefly considered suggesting that the guys go to the arcade again, but thought better of it. They were all chill with Willie; he didn’t have to hide anything. Sitting at the same table they had the day before, Alex noticed the place was busy this time around.

A tall man with dark hair approached their table. Alex recognized him from the brief peek out the kitchen door, and the reminder from Willie later: Caleb. He had a clean look to him - pristine was perhaps a better word - and he smiled widely.

“Welcome boys! How are we this morning!” he greeted cheerfully. It greatly contrasted Alex’s first impression, but he thought to keep an open mind. Willie hadn’t really said anything bad about him, only admitted that he sometimes put people off, which Alex could understand if he was running a diner. The charisma was unexpected.

“Oh, we could eat!” Reggie said excitedly.

“Music to my ears,” Caleb said, clapping his hands together. “Anything I can get started for you?”

Alex didn’t pay attention to what everyone else said as he skimmed the diner for signs of Willie. Two other servers were going around but neither of them were him. There wasn’t a proper way to peek into the kitchen either, so if Willie were to show up he’d come through the door. The image of him skating up to them instead of walking nearly made Alex laugh aloud. Luke elbowed him in the arm. Looking up, he saw Caleb waiting for him to order.

“Sorry, uh,” he sputtered. “Toast and eggs, with the banana.”

Caleb merely nodded, as if he had expected as much.

“Wonderful. I’ll have those out for you boys in the blink of an eye.” He turned neatly on his heel. Alex tried not to be too obvious as he attempted to glimpse through the doorway as Caleb entered the kitchen.

“He was nice!” Reggie said.

“Doesn’t count,” Alex told him. “He’s the boss.” It hadn’t meant to slip out sounding that way, but there was likely a bit of truth to it. He was just...disappointed he wasn’t who he’d hoped to see. Alex guessed after so many chance meetings yesterday, reality had to resurface somehow.

Bobby shot him a worried look, but got distracted by Reggie pulling out a napkin and trying to make it into some sort of shape. Alex recalled the frog and wished he had kept it. Reggie’s turned out to be a fortune teller, but since he couldn’t write anything inside he simply used it as a goofy sort of puppet and kept trying to snap at everyone’s fingers.

Luke sat up in that way he usually did like a lightbulb had come on in his head, and he grabbed a napkin as well. Then he looked around, grabbed a pen from the host’s counter, and began scribbling words on the napkin as best he could.

“Got some inspiration?” Alex teased.

Luke shushed him as he focused on getting everything down, and then began humming a melody in a low voice, repeating it to himself. Caleb came back with their plates as he did so. As he carefully laid their orders before them, he eyed Luke in curiosity.

“Are we musicians, here?” he asked with piqued interest.

“Yeah, actually we’re Sunset Curve,” Bobby told him.

“Tell your friends!” Reggie added.

“Well, I certainly have friends to tell,” Caleb mentioned. “You wouldn’t happen to have done any gigs around here, would you?”

“We just played at the Pearl last night,” Luke said proudly.

Caleb raised his eyebrows with a slight smile.

“Impressive,” he mused. “Something tells me you could become big. Consider your meal on the house, courtesy of Caleb Covington.”

All of them looked at him in awe.

“Wait, you’re serious?” Luke said incredulously.

“Oh, of course!” Caleb assured. “You boys deserve all the help you can get to make it in the big leagues. If you ever pass this way again, you can count on us to serve you here and have a place in my hotel.”

“Wait, you own the hotel too?” Reggie asked.

“Just a small monopoly in the market,” Caleb shrugged. “All to serve rockstars like you.”

“”Right on!” Luke smiled, digging into his plate.

“You boys call me if you need anything else,” Caleb insisted as he made off with his empty tray.

All of them ate with enthusiasm. Alex tried to shut up the battle in his mind about how he felt over the whole interaction. Caleb was so generous, how could his first impression have been so wrong? Was he irrationally holding it against Caleb that Willie was nowhere to be seen and that was the only thing bothering him? It didn’t matter, he guessed. They had free food and guaranteed lodging any time they were in Vegas now. That was an investment in the future.

Luke continued to hum and tap and write the whole time, which only bothered the couple sitting behind him. Reggie was bobbing his head along and Alex could see the bassline forming in his head by the concentration on his face.

“Okay, I’m guessing we’re gonna jam this one out on the way back, so who’s driving?” Bobby wondered.

“Trick question,” Alex said. “It’s gonna be me so I don’t get carsick again.”

When they all finished eating Caleb came to clear away their plates.

“I rarely see plates this clean,” he commented. “Looks like you enjoyed yourselves!”

“Compliments to the cook,” Luke said. “They make some gnarly pancakes.”

“I hire the best,” Caleb told him. He rested their plates with one arm as they each got up to leave. “Safe travels, boys. And remember, I’m always looking out for you.”

Alex was the last to leave the booth and took a moment as the other three bounded outside. Caleb raised an eyebrow, waiting to listen.

“Um,” Alex hesitated, wringing his hands. “I met Willie yesterday. Could you just tell him Alex said goodbye? I’d appreciate it.” It wasn't even close to what he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure how to go about explaining the entirety of the day before to this man.

Caleb gave a strange half nod, saying nothing in return. Alex guessed it was a silent promise - maybe he knew what Alex was actually talking about and wasn’t about to broadcast it to the whole restaurant? He didn’t necessarily come off as straight himself, now that Alex thought about it. It was slightly comforting. Returning a small smile to say thank you, he ran to catch up with the boys.

Bobby tossed him the keys to the van and they all climbed in.

“Okay, let’s get to jamming that song before I forget the best part!” Luke cried.

Alex started the ignition and felt his chest weigh a hundred pounds as he pulled away from the diner. Everything inside wanted to stay. Or find Willie and take him along. He peeked at intervals through the rearview mirror, hoping to see him running out from the diner to say goodbye. A hand grasped his shoulder and he turned to see Reggie looking at him sympathetically. He’d caught onto more than Alex had noticed. They only heaved a quick sigh as Alex felt his body begin to shake slightly and he focused his eyes on the road. It was going to be a long four hours.

Much later, the guys were gathered again at the hospital Julie’s mom, Rose, was at. The rest of them had their acoustics while Alex carried a cheap little djembe drum. They were dog-tired but Luke was pulling every ounce of his energy forward to keep all of them hyped. Currently, he was on the phone with Julie, verifying how soon she would be there with them.

“Hey, Alex,” Bobby nudged him as they sat in the waiting room. “Ballroom Blitz?”

“Now?” Alex said, looking around at the gloomy nurses and residents shuffling about their business.

“Yeah, as a warm up.”

He couldn’t help the smile growing on his lips.

“Okay, we just gotta keep Reggie in check.”

Bobby chuckled and shook his head, knowing it wasn’t going to happen.

Alex started up the beat on his djembe as Bobby grinned. Reggie sat up as he tried to figure out what they were doing.

“Are you ready Steve?” Bobby began, trying to stay soft so it wasn’t too alarming. Reggie beamed as he realized what was happening. “Andy? Mick? Alright fellas! Let’s goooooo!” He came in with the main riff as residents’ and patients’ heads turned to see what was happening. Luke had gotten off the phone and was already grabbing his guitar

They managed to get calmly through the verse before Reggie couldn’t help but let the energy take over.

“I see a man in the back, as a matter of fact, his eyes were as red as the sun! And a girl in the corner, let no one ignore her ‘cuz she thinks she’s the passionate one! OOHH YEEAAH!”

All four of them came together for the chorus.

“And the man at the back said ‘Everyone attack’ and it turned into a ballroom blitz! And the girl in the corner said ‘Boy, I wanna warn ya it’ll turn into a ballroom blitz! Ballroom blitz!” They were all getting into jamming now, and Alex was lost in the rhythm with the rest of them.

A nurse finally approached them with a loud voice.

“OKAY BOYS!” she cried, an expression on her face that meant serious business. Each of them faltered in the middle of playing and looked at her like chastised puppies. “Thank you, you sound lovely. Unfortunately, there’s a few patients we don’t wanna disturb, so if you could please save it for your little thing later, we would like that very much.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they all murmured sheepishly.

“Thank you,” she smiled exaggeratedly and went on with her business. Once her back was turned, Reggie pulled a funny face and shrugged, causing them all to suppress their laughter.

“You guys, we could hear you from the elevator,” they all heard. Turning around, Julie stood behind them shaking her head and rolling her eyes. Ray and her brother Carlos were only a few steps behind. Luke bounded over a chair, guitar in hand, to meet her.

“We ready boss?” he enthused.

“Yeah, we just need to check in. We told her we were coming, but not you guys.”

Like the dork he was, Luke simply made the shaka sign with his hand in excitement. Alex felt newly energized from the song, and knew that what they were doing meant so much to Julie and her family. Everything that had been weighing on him all day could be set aside for this.

Shortly, they followed the Molinas to Rose’s room.

“Hey, mom,” Julie said tenderly. The woman had a scarf on her head, and she looked so tired and weak everywhere except in her eyes.

“Sweetheart, who’s this?” she asked, pleasantly surprised.

“These are my friends, Luke, Alex, Reggie, and Bobby,” Julie introduced. “They’re a band called Sunset Curve, and they wanted to do something special for you today.”

She looked back at Luke and gave him a nod. He began strumming the intro to Your Song by Elton John and happy tears immediately welled in Rose’s eyes. She looked at her daughter and pride emanated from her being.

“It’s a little bit funny, these feelings inside,” Luke sang. “I’m not one of those who can easily hide….” 

Each of them continued to join in as Ray, Julie and Carlos all took turns embracing Rose. She whispered things to them in Spanish and kissed each of their heads, keeping hold of Ray’s hand as the boys continued playing. She couldn’t sing along as she wished, but she mouthed the words to every single song they played. The boys played for only an hour, but it felt like its own little bubble of time. Alex didn’t want to leave by the time it was over.

They had saved Yellow Submarine for last, and it came as a suckerpunch. Even though the song was supposed to be silly and Carlos was doing all the echoes at the end, they could all feel the undercurrent of grief wash through. The words became a metaphor for some fantastical land where nothing was wrong - where Rose was healthy, where each of their lives were fixed, where Willie was with them - a land of simplicity that didn’t exist. But they had created a moment in that tiny hospital room that felt so close to it, and they could all tell.

Alex felt strange that while everyone else had tears in their eyes at this point, he remained dry. He was moved, of course. There was something about meeting Julie’s family and doing this little performance that made him feel warmth greater than anything he’d known in his whole life. It made him wonder what was wrong with him. He watched as Reggie, who was a sniffling mess, tried to comfort a slightly tearful Bobby (which was a rare sight in itself). Luke wrapped his arm around Alex’s shoulders, smiling even with glistening eyes. For what it was worth, the guys made him feel at home and he knew he’d been a part of this just as much as them.

As everyone said their goodbyes back in the waiting room, Julie held out her arms and all the guys came to her at once in a giant group hug.

“You guys, I can’t tell you how much this means to me,” she said, words saturated with gratitude. “I will never forget this. My mom will never forget this.”

They all squeezed tightly before letting go. Luke and Julie’s hands took just a little too long to separate as she followed her dad and brother out of the hospital. Sighing wistfully, Luke watched her go until she was out of sight completely. The image of Willie skating along the street crossed Alex’s mind in a rueful memory. He was definitely going to hammer it out on his drums when he got home.

“Alright, boys,” Luke was saying. “Let’s head out.”