#i should be loose i should be feelin myself

[spencereid]

i think my ssri makes me less reactive to alcohol????? it’s supposed to do the opposite i thought????

[justagamerandaweeb]

A Massage - Kyojuro and Uzui x Reader

"God, I feel so sticky..." You thought as were walking into the Ryokan. You were done with training and your entire body was sweaty and you felt stiff.

Once you entered, you grabbed a towel and started to take your clothes off. You folded your uniform and folded them up and placed it on the wooden chair after you wrapped the towel on you.

You thought you would have the hot spring all to yourself for tonight, but you saw something in your peripheral. You saw Tengens and Kyojuros clothes folded and on a wooden table.

" Kyojuro and Uzui are here? Huh. I thought I would have the hot spring to myself tonight. Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe they're already asleep and I can take the other side."

As you were walking closer to the hot spring, you heard the faint sound of chattering behind the door.

You peek through the door to see Kyojuro and Uzui having a conversation with each other. "Crap. They aren't asleep. Maybe I should wait until they get tired and then I'll get it in."

You were about to quietly close the door back until you heard Uzui. "Hey, whoever's behind that door, show yourself. We won't hurt you unless you're a demon of course."

Kyojuro then looks at the door and back at Uzui. "I don't hear anything, Uzui. You sure somebody's here?"

He nods. "Give her a minute."

You exhaled through your nose. "Well, there goes my chance of waiting." You opened the door and asked him, "How'd you know I was here?"

"I have enhanced hearing, just like that yellow-haired idiot, I can anything and anyone from the slightest sound."

"Oh, (Y/N)! It's a pleasure seeing you here this evening, why are you here?" Kyojuro said as he turns his body around and rests his arms on the solid ground.

"I-I came here to relax. I trained all day today and my entire body feels sore and stiff."

"I see. As you should as well, training as a Demon Slayer is important, but trying to relax and rest your muscles is just as equally as important." Kyojuro said with a sincere smirk on his face.

Uzui gestures at you to get inside. "Cmon, drop that towel and get in, we won't bite."

You untucked your towel and it started to slowly fall off, giving you enough time to cover yourself.

Once the towel was fully off of you, and you were covering your parts, you slowly walked up to the hot spring and engulfed your foot in it.

Once the bottom half of your body was in the water, you covered your breast with both your arms. And once your entire body was covered in the warm water, you turned your body around and rested your head and arms, and exhaled in relief.

Uzui does the same and says, "How ya Feelin'?"

"Like my body just shut down on itself, in a good way, though."

"Do still feel tense, (Y/N)?" Kyojuro asked you as he postures himself up.

"A little bit but, I think it's nothing to worry about."

"Even though you said it's nothing to worry about, I still should help you relax more. So, will you let me massage your body for a minute?"

Uzui raises his eyebrow as he smirks and looks at Kyojuro. "What are you trying to go for, Kyojuro? Are you trying to get more intimate with her? Because if that's what you want, I can help you with that." He said that the last part with a hushed, seductive tone in his voice.

"No, I'm just gonna rub her body for a bit until she tells me she's perfectly comfortable." He said without stuttering but had a light blush on his face.

Uzui scoffs as he said, "Alright then, do whatever you have to do." And turns around as he closes his eyes and spread his arms at the edge of the hot spring.

Kyojuro then got behind you and started to massage your body. You quietly moaned as you felt Kyojuro's warm hands caressing your body.

"How do you feel, (Y/N)? Am I making you feel uncomfortable, or is this making you feel good?"

"It feels good Kyojuro..."

"Alright, you want me to keep going?"

You nodded and Kyojuro continued to rub your body. Your muscles felt all loose and you groaned.

Kyojuro blushed and felt his cock getting erect. "Calm down, Kyojuro. You're just massaging her body, that's all. There's no reason to get excited. Don't poke her with your... Thing." He saw a knot on your back and presses it with his elbow.

"(Y/N), you mind if you can breathe in for a second?"

You breathed in through your nose and heard a popping sound and breathed out through your mouth.

"There you go, much better." He moves to the left of you and rests his arms and head on the solid ground.

"Thanks, Kyojuro. I feel so much more comfortable now." You saw Kyojuro covering his face and saw faint pink on his face. "Why are you blushing?"

Kyojuro sighs for what he was about to say. "I won't lie to you, (Y/N), and I understand if you feel disgusted when I say this, but I'm getting turned on."

Your face blushed red when he heard him say that. "W-Why? How?"

"I was just touching your back, that's all. But the noises you were making made it feel more sensual so I couldn't control myself. I understand if you are disgusted with me and think I'm a pervert now that I confessed that to you."

You shook your hands in front of him and said, "No no no! I should be the one you call a pervert! Since I was making noises while you were touching me and I couldn't control myself." You said as you had a faint blush on your face.

"But I'm not the type of person to call a woman a pervert. My mother didn't raise me as a rude person. So please, take the blame on me."

"I'm not gonna blame you for something that wasn't your fault. My entire body felt stiff and you did a favor for me. But my body was so stressed out and when you were massaging me, I was in a trance and it felt good."

Kyojuro did nothing but look at you for the next couple of seconds. "Kyojuro?" You waved your hand in front of him and as soon you were about to drop it, he grabbed your hand.

"K-Kyojuro!?" His hand becomes entangled with yours and lowers back into the water. "(Y/N)..." He started to lean in towards you as his other hand was holding the back of your head. "K-Kyojuro, what are you-" His lips connected with yours.

Your eyes widen as you felt the Flame Hashira kiss your lips. His arm started to get down to your back as his tongue enters his mouth. You felt his tongue twirling on yours, and soon you caught on with him and started to dance with his tongue.

"M-Mmm..." You wrapped your arm around Kyojuro's neck as you leaned your head to the right to make the kiss closer.

As you were getting pulled to Kyojuro's body, you felt something poking your stomach as he was pulling you. Your eyes widened and you started to tap on his neck for him to stop.

He stops kissing you with a red blush on his face as he caresses your face with his hand. "What's wrong, (Y/N)? Did I not do it right?"

"No, it's not that. It's just..." You said as your eyes panned down his lower body. Kyojuro looks down as well and saw his cock touching you.

His eyes widen and he backed up away from you as he covered himself with his hands. "Forgive me, (Y/N). I didn't mean to touch you with my cock."

You were about to speak when suddenly you felt Uzui's hands fondle your breasts. "Well if you didn't mean to touch her with it, why did you go ham on kissing her?"

"U-Uzui!? I-I thought you were asleep. H-How much did you hear that?"

"The whole thing baby. And don't think I don't wanna hear more." He said as he leans down and kisses your neck.

Kyojuro was just watching as he felt his cock twitching. You being dominated by Uzui as he kissed your neck and touched your breast, it made him want to join in and fuck you until you couldn't walk. "Yo, Kyojuro." Kyojuro was pulled out of his trance when he heard Uzui call him.

"You want in on this?"

Kyojuro took no time and started to walk toward you. Uzui puts his hands on your hips and Kyojuro groped your breasts. You moaned as you felt his firm hands roughly fondling your breasts, but not so hard that he might hurt you.

"Damn, Kyojuro. You couldn't even respond to my question? Guess you really wanted this." He says with a smirk on his face.

Kyojuro then started to twirl your tongue around your nipple, making you make a soft half scream. "K-Kyojuro..."

Uzui got close to your ear and said, "Why are you holding back? No ones coming, we have the place to ourselves as of tonight."

"I-I don't wanna..."

'Really? Well, then I can fix that." His right hand started to go between your hips and started to rub his finger against your pussy.

"A-Ahh! U-Uzui..." You let out a half shout as you felt Uzui's finger brushing against your folds. "There you go, baby... Just like that."

As Uzui was rubbing your pussy, Kyojuro started to suck on your nipple as he was fondling the other one. "Kyojuro is sucking your boob like a newborn, while I brush my finger against your pussy. How does it feel?"

"I-It feels really good..."

He chuckles as he gets up to your ear, "That's the answer I was looking for, but we can do better. You want us to go further, and fuck you until you can't walk anymore?"

You felt shivers go down your spine when Uzui said that. You close your eyes and imagined Uzui and Kyojuro fucking your tight holes. Your legs shook a little when you imagined it. You open your eyes and said, "Yes."

Uzui chuckles again as he whispers, "Good. Don't worry we're gonna make you feel really fucking good." He looks down at Kyojuro and said, "Yo, Kyojuro, stop sucking her tits, we're going to the other room."

Kyojurk stops sucking your breast. "For what?"

"You know..." Uzui said as Kyojuros cock twitched again. "Lead the way, Uzui."

Uzui then holds you bridal style as he stood up, and exited the hot spring. Kyojuro follows Uzui to the bedroom.

As Uzui walks into the bedroom, he puts you down on the bed and lays down at the edge of the bed next to you. "C'mere, (Y/N), sit on my stomach."

You sat up and your eyes widened when you saw his cock. He looked so big, he looked around 11 in a half inches long and 6 in a half inches thick.

You were nervous but that didn't stop you from doing what he asked. You got on top of him and felt his hands grope your butt. "Your ass feels so soft, (Y/N). I just wanna take my cock, and grind it in between them."

Uzui wraps his arms around you and repositions himself and you felt something warm touching your entrance.

"But I'm gonna do more than that. We're gonna fuck you to the point where you tremble in ecstasy and stutter every time you talk."

He grabbed his cock and slowly pushed himself inside you. You groan in pain and pleasure as you felt his big tip enter inside you.

Kyojuro had some sort of lube and started to pour the lubricant into his hand and started to stroke his cock, making it more oily and will make it easier to enter your ass.

You started to whimper as you felt Uzui's cock going deeper inside you. "Uzui, it's too much..."

"Breathe, baby. Just breathe." He says as he strokes your hair. Kyojuro walks up behind you and grabs your ass as he prods your ass with his cock. Since his cock was all lubed up, it was easy for him to slip inside you.

You made a yelping noise as felt Kyojuros' warm and wet cock enter your ass. "K-Kyojuro!" You shouted as Kyojuro started to thrust his hips into your hole.

"Looks like Kyojuro is starting early, I guess I should too," Uzui said before he grabbed your hips and started to move his hips and felt his cock going in and out of your walls, making you release a scream of pleasure from your mouth.

"That's it, (Y/N). Scream like that, let your voice out." Uzui said as he kisses your lips while thrusting.

"She feels really good..." Kyojuro thought as he as he was fucking your ass. He started to moan as he started going faster thrusting into you.

"Uzui then cups your cheeks with his hand and says, " How does it feel to get fucked by two Hashira?"

"I-It feels good, Uzui..." You said as your voice started to tremble from the pleasure you were feeling.

"Good. Because I'm not gonna stop until I'm fully satisfied with you, understand?"

You nodded and Uzui kisses your lips before he starts making his hips thrust faster. As Uzui was thrusting inside you faster, Kyojuro felt his cock twitching, implicating that he was close to his climax.

His hips wouldn't stop moving as he tried to resist the urge to cum but couldn't as his cock spurted cum inside your ass and made him make a husky and quiet moan.

"K-Kyojuro, d-did you just cum in me?"

Kyojuro's entire face was red. His face was covered in sweat and his hair was stuck to his head. "I did, but I still wanna keep going. Even though I feel sensitive now that I came, I still wanna make you feel good." He grabs your ass and started to thrust his hips into your seed-coated asshole.

"A-Ahh! Kyojuro!" You screamed as you wrapped your arms around Uzui as you felt sensitive as well when Kyojuro was fucking you. Uzui chuckles and started to go deeper into fucking you, to the point that his cock was bulging out of your stomach.

You were screaming snd moaning for the last 10 minutes from getting fucked by two Hashira. All of you were sweating profusely while having the times of your lives.

You get fucked by Uzui and Kyojuro, Kyojuro fucking your cum filled hole, and Uzui separating your walls with his fat cock.

Kyojuro and Uzui felt their cocks twitching, Uzui wraps his arms around you and kisses your lips as he uses all his stamina to thrust his hips. Kyojuros' eyes were clenched closed as he too uses all his energy into fucking your ass.

"Hope you're ready for my fat fucking load, (Y/N). Because I'm gonna make you get pregnant with my seed." Uzui thought as his cock twitched and shoots his thick ropes of cum inside.

Kyojuros grunts as he felt himself cumming inside you again. He loudly moans as he gave extra thrusts.

You also came once you felt them both cum inside your walls, and sprayed all over Uzui's pelvis.

You were shaking so much from stimulation, the feeling of them fucking both your holes was still there, even though they stopped.

They started to take their shafts out of you, and cum started to drip out of your cunt and ass. Kyojuro got on the bed and cuddled with you and Uzui.

"This might sound cheesy when I say this, but how was your massage, my flame?"

"I-It felt good K-Kyojuro..."

Kyojuro smiled when he heard you respond to his question while Uzui laughs. "Damn, Kyojuro, when did you learn to be smooth?"

You both blushed when Uzui said that. "I wasn't trying to, Uzui." Uzui chuckled again. "Sure, okay."

Uzui pulls you and places the side of your head to his chest, hearing his heartbeat against your ear.

"I love you both." You said as you wrap your arm around Uzui. Kyojuro wraps his arm around your hip and spoons you as felt his flaccid cock touching your thigh, and Uzui wraps his other arm around both of you.

"We love you too, (Y/N). Maybe I'll make you my fourth wife, how does that sound, baby? My wives will train you how to be a Shinobi."

You blushed at the thought of being Uzui's fourth wife. But the thought of being a Ninja was cool on its own so you said, "Yeah, that sounds nice... But what about Kyojuro?"

He looks at Kyojuro and said, "I'll make him my first husband, and he too will be a Shinobi."

Uzui then casually kisses you. But then cups Kyojuros cheek and leans in and kisses his lips. Kyojuros eyes widened when Uzui kissed him, he's never kissed a man before until now, but for some reason he liked it. He cups Uzui's cheek and started to dance with his tongue. They stopped before they went further into kissing as a line of saliva stretched apart from them.

"Well, that was something..."

"Yes, it was." Uzui as he caresses Kyojuro's cheek with his thumb.

"Can we sleep now? I'm tired." You said as you yawned while still being against Uzui's chest. He chuckles and said, "Yeah, we can sleep now."

He wraps his arms around you and Kyojuro wrapped his arms around you as he kisses your neck. "Night, (Y/N)."

"Night Kyojuro..." You said as you drifted off to sleep and Kyojuro does the same. Uzui then kisses both Kyojuro and your head and whispers, "Night, my wife and husband." And closes his eyes.

Today was probably the most interesting night of your life, you had sex with two of the Hashira, and got married to one of them.

And you for sure will never forget this night for the rest of your life.

[buffapeaks-tmblr]

uhhhh wrote a mullvans oneshot/fic bc I’m unwell🫶 it’s probably really ooc near the end (especially Jake) bc I couldn’t figure out how to wrap it up sorry

Piers’ arm was bleeding. Again. 

   He was getting tired of this shit, honestly. Actually, he’s been tired of it since he and Chris escaped the underwater facility. 

   They were unable to remove the arm because of how risky the surgery would be, so now Piers was forced to live with a monster arm for the rest of his life. 

   ‘This is bullshit.’ Piers thought to himself as he carefully cleaned the leaking blood from his arm. The first time this happened he had freaked the fuck out and thought something was going to grow out of him. He had tried to use rubbing alcohol which had caused a tremendous amount of pain. Jake ended up having to clean it instead, Piers being too worried he’d hurt himself again. 

   Piers carefully pressed a warm washcloth to an area that was bleeding particularly heavily. The rough cloth rubbed up against the exposed muscle, causing the sniper to hiss in pain. His claws flexed into his palm at the pain. Piers threw down the washcloth in frustration, a wet thwap sounding as the cloth hit the tile floor. 

   Piers could feel himself loosing his temper, which wasn’t good. He had found out that his electric powers from C could activate when he got upset or felt intense emotions the hard way, almost killing Jake when they had gotten into an argument. The brunette closed his eyes and took a few breaths to calm himself down. 

   When he was sure he was calm, he called out, “Jake? I need help.” 

   “Comin’.” Piers heard almost immediately. It didn’t take long for Jake to appear in the bathroom, dressed in gray sweats and a simple back tee. 

   “It’s leakin’ again.” Piers mumbled, looking away from Jake out of embarrassment. Jake grunted softly in acknowledgement and got down to his knees, picking up the washcloth and carefully putting pressure on the bleeding surface of the arm. 

   It was embarrassing, really, having to have someone clean up your gnarled monster arm that you had technically made because you didn’t think you’d be living after it. It’s a miracle that Piers had lived and didn’t suffer from any of the symptoms like the J’avo back in China. Or, at least, the symptoms of wanting to kill people, that is. 

   Piers stared at a fixed spot on the door, not wanting to look at Jake as he carefully and meticulously cleaned more spots on his right arm. 

  “Sorry.” Piers said after awhile, sparing a glance at Jake. 

   “What’re you sorry for?” Jake mumbled. 

   “This,” Piers motioned lamely to his right arm. “You shouldn’t have to do it, it’s gross and I should be able to take care of myself.” 

   The red-head chuckled dryly and pulled back. He stood up and ran the bloodied cloth under the tap. “Trust me, this ain’t the worst thing I’ve seen nor dealt with, pup.” 

   Piers didn’t answer, clearly not amused by Jake’s comment. 

   He took notice of it, because of course he did. Jake walked back over to Piers and kneeled in front of the sniper. “I’m just teasing ya’, kay? I don’t care about having to help you out sometimes cause you wanted to be the self-sacrificing idiot.” 

   Piers snickered softly. “You sure have a way with words, Muller.”

   The ex-merc grinned. “I try my best.” He grabbed Piers’ hand and squeezed it softly in a comforting manner before finishing up cleaning the mutated arm. 

   They sat in a comfortable silence while Jake finished up. “Alright, all done.” He said after a few minutes, patting Piers’ thigh and hoisting himself back up to rinse the cloth. 

   “Thanks.” Piers smiled. He watched Jake run the cloth under the water and wring it out before placing it on the side of the sink. He walked back over to Piers and kneeled down in front of him, placing a hand on the uninfected side of his face. 

   “You feelin’ okay?” Jake rumbled. Piers nodded a little bit and leaned into his touch. “Yeah, just wish I didn’t have to deal with this shit is all.” 

   After a few seconds the sniper spoke. “Y’know, when I first saw you I didn’t think you’d be this.. nice.” 

   Jake snorted in amusement. “I’m not an asshole all the time, pup.” 

   Piers huffed a laugh and gently bumped his head against Jake’s. “Thank you though, seriously. I.. appreciate it more than you know.” 

   Jake smiled, a genuine smile, something that Piers (or a lot of people for that matter) don’t see often. “Like I said, I’m not always a jerk. I care about you a lot.” 

   Piers smiled back at him. “Yeah.” He said simply, taking Jake’s hand again and holding it. “I do too.” 

[elvisabutler]

1K fluff prompt 7 based on your Selkie AU since they are big on smelling like home/the sea/each other

sea dog

fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: t pairing: elvis presley x female reader wordcount: 1393 warnings: mentions of seal skin. me playing fast and loose with selkie myth. jerry is a werewolf. mention of gambling. this is actually tame so i don't have too many warnings. author’s note: thank you for this anon! i don't know if you're the same anon who sent the angst prompt as well for the selkie au but know i'm working on that as well. just taking a bit longer because a certain @prompted-wordsmith helped me brainstorm/get out of my head a little with it so it might be a bit longer than the rest. it should be worth it. but anyway, super enjoyed this and loved writing it so i hope you enjoy it too! this is done for my 1k gala, based on fluff line “mmmh, you always smell amazing!” this is based on/in the same universe as the selkie au i wrote. not required to read it but it makes things make a lot more sense. y'all know the drill, real elvis or austin elvis works fine for this despite the moodboard.

The funny thing about being friends with a werewolf is that they have one of the best senses of smell out of all supernatural creatures and yet- and yet they're also the most easily fooled. Elvis likes to think that's why he never picked up on you smelling like his skin, smelling like the ocean breeze when you were in Las Vegas of all places. If you were gonna smell like anything it should have been Lake Mead. Jerry's excuse, bless him, was that he thought you were another selkie because your scent had been just different enough from Elvis's own still faintly there scent that he wasn't sure. Besides with how you two had danced around and slowly fallen for each other he- he didn't want to ruin that. He hadn't wanted to ruin the relationship he felt that you and Elvis had started to cultivate.

Call him a sucker for epic little romances. Still, nowadays he can tell the difference, tell how without Elvis's skin you don't smell like the sea. You don't smell like an Ocean breeze or anything like that. You smell like a normal human to him. A fact that Elvis disagrees with every time he wants Jerry to make sure things are normal with you when the two of you have to be seperated.

"Whatdya mean ya can't fuckin', Schilling, you got one damn job-" Elvis growls over the phone only to be cut off by Jerry answering with a growl of his own.

"I'm saying it's faint, Elvis. She's still here, but she's probably spending time in her old room, not the penthouse suite. I know you're made she couldn't come-"

"Damn right I am. We get outta Vegas, ain't trapped on dry land and she tells me she'll meet me in Paris? Like I'm supposed t' enjoy London all by myself. Next thing I know I'll be in Venice all alone too. Want t'enjoy Europe wit' her, not alone." Elvis's growl only gets stronger the more he speaks and by the end he's practically barking over the phone. Jerry shoots you a look as he holds the phone away from his ear and rolls his eyes.

"You know she's busy. You love her-" Jerry starts with a sigh before Elvis cuts him off again.

"She doesn't need to still be doin' it and she knows it! She knows I can- I wanna- I gotta treat my seal wife the way she deserves." You frown listening to the way Elvis talks, how it feels like the winds are leaving his sails. "Jus'- jus' feelin' lonely, Jer."

It's then that you almost spill the beans. It's then that you almost spill the beans and take the phone from Jerry and tell Elvis you're going to be in London tomorrow night but that would ruin the surprise so you bite your tongue and watch as Jerry shakes his head.

"I know, EP. She'll be with you in a few days, just- enjoy London, man. It's your first time there performing and for fun. Live a little." He spares a glance at you, noting how you make a face at live a little as he looks at the time. "Shit- I made plans. Listen, I catch her scent again I'll call ya."

Elvis's only response before he hangs up the phone is a subtle yeah yeah. Jerry looks at you once he hangs up and rubs at his temples. "You two are such a pain in my ass."

You shrug, grabbing the last of your stuff to shove into your bag. "At this point Jerry, I think the feeling is mutual with all three of us." You take a moment to sit on the suitcase and motion for Jerry to zip it up. "Help me out, sooner this gets done the sooner I'm out of your fluffy fur and into his fluffy hair."

The flight is exhausting and the next time you reserve the right to ask Elvis to just send the Lisa Marie to pick you up, damn the surprise entirely. It has already been arranged for you to be allowed access to Elvis's room at the hotel he's in purely because you knew you'd likely arrive during a show. From the moment you walk inside the building your own human nose catches a whiff of the sea that's unique to Elvis and a tension you didn't know was inside of you lessens its grip.

The scent only gets stronger until you reach his room and open it to smell what you've come to define as heaven. If you shut your eyes you can pretend you're on the beaches in Hawai‘i with his arms wrapped around you as you watch the sunset. It's a romantic image and one you find yourself pining for as if he's not your boyfriend. As if to him you're already a wife he just has to convince you to say yes to him, to legally bind yourself to him. Still, you miss him and the jet lag combined with that pining sort of feeling inside your chest has to flopping on the bed and passing out before you know it.

You wake up to warmth against you. Warmth and Elvis practically nuzzling your neck, ignoring how sweaty he is and how gross you probably are from your flight. It takes a moment for your senses to return to you but when they do you're struck by how he smells, how it makes you feel like wherever you are is home. Elvis's voice is a mumble against your skin as you turn over to face him, watching as he goes back to kissing and nuzzling your neck. "Smell so good- Missed this- Smell so amazin'. Always fuckin'-"

A giggle leaves your lips before you pull him up for a kiss, ignoring the sweat and the disgust of the grime you feel between you two. "Could say the same for you. Always smell so amazing. Clothes don't compare to-"

There's a glint in his eyes when he pulls away just slightly. "Ya been smellin' my clothes. Been gone for less than a week and ya smellin' my clothes." He teases before nuzzling at your neck again. "Nice surprise ya givin' me here, comin' early. Coulda told me."

"And miss waking up to this? To you acting like a happy wittle seal?" Your own tone is teasing but you mean no malice in it as your hand moves to run through his hair. "I finished early, missed my seal. Figured you deserved to see all this with me."

"Ya stayin' the whole tour?" His eyes widen, because at best you were supposed to stay for three cities, maybe a week at best not- not the whole tour. "Ya ain't- Ya ain't lyin'?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." Your answer is simple enough but has Elvis barking out a laugh that you only hear him let out as a seal as you grin when he pulls you up out of the bed and picks you up into a hug.

"I get to travel the world wit' ya. Get t'go swimmin' ev'ywhere with ya. Fuckin'-" His hands travel to the sides of your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. "Ain't gonna be able to tell our scents apart. Gonna feel at home every second."

You bite your lip a little. "That's kind of the point, Elvis. Can't have you getting another seal wife when you've got me."

For a moment he looks hurt until he realizes how your eyes are still smiling. You're joking and he swears in that moment more than any other one he's felt with you he realizes he's in love with you. Not because of any supernatural bullshit, but because you're you, the woman who managed to charm him with matching dresses to his jumpsuits and who got him back his life. He tilts his head slightly before pulling away, grabbing your hand as he does. He hums as he pulls you to the bathroom. "The European girls ain't got nothin' on ya. 'Sides, they ain't as much fun in the shower. Gonna join me?"

Your free hand moves to start undressing yourself as you allow yourself to be pulled. "As long as you don't try and shift. You're a bit of a handful as a seal."

"That was one goddamn time!"

[writtenjewels]

Rough Day

Usually Salim liked to soak in the bath to relax, but today he needed the constant beat of warm water on his skin that only a shower could provide. He took off his clothes and started the water. He waited until it was just the right temperature before stepping in. Just when he was starting to enjoy himself, he heard a knock on the door.

“Yes?” he responded.

“Sorry, darlin', just wanted to let you know I'm callin' in dinner tonight.” Salim shut off the water so he could hear Jason more clearly. “I just ain't feelin' up to cookin' tonight,” Jason went on apologetically. Salim stared at the door thoughtfully for a moment.

“Why don't you join me, habibi?”

“Seriously?” Jason clarified.

“Don't make me repeat myself.” There was a muffled laugh on the other side of the door, then it opened and Jason stepped in. He was in his work clothes except for his shoes and looking as tired of this day as Salim felt. Salim trembled a little as Jason's eyes roamed his naked, wet body. No matter how many times they had sex, it would never stop exciting him when Jason looked at him with such unabashed desire.

Jason started removing his clothes, allowing Salim to be the one to admire as more skin was exposed. Even after his honorable discharge from the marines, Jason kept himself fit: he was muscular and slender, and strong enough to lift Salim off his feet if he was so inclined. Salim worked out for a similar reason.

“Rough day?” Jason asked, snapping Salim out of his thoughts.

“A little, yes. What about you?”

“Pretty rough.” He skimmed his fingers over Salim's stomach. “I'm glad to be home. Turn around so I can wash your back.”

Salim made no objections to this. He turned the water back on and hummed in pleasure as Jason's hands started moving the soap over Salim's back. The steady circles paused up at his shoulders, fingers digging into his muscles. He hadn't realized how tense they were until Jason started working them loose. Salim closed his eyes and let out a soft moan. Jason pressed into the muscles more firmly, shifting more into a massage than a simple washing.

The hands were moving lower now, pressing into his lower back. Salim shuddered and arched into the touch. Then Jason's hands were on the ass, squeezing and shaping it and pulling out a loud moan from Salim.

“You had a really rough day, huh, darlin'?” Jason mused. His hands went back up to Salim's hips briefly, gently guiding the angle. Salim followed it without thinking. They weren't usually intimate like this in the bathroom, but then again Salim usually took baths instead of showers. The way Jason was handling him, Salim thought he should have done the showers much sooner.

“Jason,” he sighed out. He felt his ass cheeks being pulled apart and shifted into position, heart pounding. “Yes, nuri, please.”

He hadn't even realized that he would need this, but it was exactly what he craved. The day had been long and tiring and it felt so good to relax in the arms of his beloved. Jason admiring his body with his hands, his lips now moving over Salim's neck and shoulders, every touch and kiss reminding Salim he was adored. Jason often said “I hear you thinking” as his way of asking someone to share their thoughts, but times like these Salim would swear Jason really had telepathic powers.

A hand was moving up the inside of Salim's thigh and he whimpered a little, shifting his legs apart so Jason could touch him. The hand wrapped around Salim's cock and started to stroke, going slowly from root to tip and back again. Salim's breathing turned heavy and he started moving with the rhythm, bumping his backside up against Jason's crotch. He could feel Jason's cock starting to stir and altered his movements to more of a gentle grind.

“Maybe we oughta move this to the bedroom,” Jason suggested.

“Finish what you started, jarhead,” Salim challenged him.

Jason responded with a gentle twist of one of Salim's nipples. He continued twisting and pulling the nub, rubbing his thumb across it and teasing until it was hard. He performed the same treatment to the other and kept up with his stroking of Salim's cock. All the warm water was gone now but Salim barely noticed. The heat was flowing through his whole body, pooling between his legs and making his cock stiff.

There was nothing for Salim to hold onto. He tried placing his palm on the shower wall but it was too slick. Jason's fingers were pressing into Salim now, stretching and filling one by one. His other arm was around Salim in a gentle hold. Reading Salim's mind again, knowing Salim needed something to keep him steady.

“Sorry you had such a rough day, darlin',” Jason said, kissing Salim's jaw. “I'll order from that Chinese place you like and we can watch some old TV show.” Salim swallowed down a lump forming in his throat. He was glad the water from the shower helped his escaped tears blend in.

He spent so much of his adult life being the provider and caretaker. He still hadn't gotten used to how often Jason took on the role. Especially when it came to providing and caring for Salim. He called Jason nuri, my light, and it was true more and more every day.

“I love you,” Salim declared out loud.

“Love you too, ameli,” Jason assured him. He angled Salim's hips again and pressed his cock inside Salim's prepared entrance. The feel of it distracted Salim momentarily but he quickly realized Jason had spoken Arabic; he called Salim “my hope”. Overwhelmed with love and affection, Salim couldn't form a response.

He fell into the slow rhythm of Jason thrusting inside him. Salim relaxed in Jason's arms as the water from the shower washed their day away.

[libraryonothing]

Abacus Jones

         The hills was actually a bit further than they looked from the town.  Took me near on two hours til I started feelin their slow incline in my ankles.  I had kept my eyes on the town, wonderin when truth would show itself and they’d come runnin up to try and hack at my limbs and such, but it didn’t never come.  In fact they kept a happy watch off ta me for the first fifteen minutes or so of my walk, still waving like the crazies they must be to be so kind to a soulless type like myself.  Soon enough though they broke up their group and just seemed to go back to their normal dailying.

��          After the long walk, I finally stopped at the base of the hills, sun shining without a cloud to muck it up, and the air without a wind to blow away my own stink.  I quickly came to noticing that there weren’t a sound around, save for my own breathin, and that slow ring in my ears that I only heard when everything was all quiet like right now.  Nothin, not a wild dog, lizard, snake, or even the flies that seemed so smitten with my soulless husk.  There weren’t a bit of life out here, and I didn’a like that much.

           The second bit of strange hit me the moment I was fully in the hills, the tops rolling over above me, and bits of loose rock tumblin down as if something was knockin em loose.  Somethin that was stalkin me, eyein’ me with it’s dark eyes.  Cept when I’d look, that same nothing greeted me again and again.

           I kept at eyein’ the ground for prints or some such sign, but none was ever there.  And I still weren’t feelin any spooks.  I had a sort-of sense for such things, and I’m fair for certain there weren’t none around.  But the pebbles above kept fallin, following me through the hills just as they continued to grow above me further, and I sunk down into the deeper valleys as the sun finally became hidden from me.

           It got moist around me, quick, and in a place that didn’a rightly seem it should be.  Black grass, devil weed, was growing at my feet, and reaching out far ahead of me.  Oft times, this stuff grew up on blood, you’d find it in or around secluded areas in the world, which weren’t many, mind you, as most a the killin I seen’s done out in the streets, or in some structure or nother.  Scribbits is a dark feeder.  Rip their prey to bit pieces, but as I ain’t seen any thing livin round here, don’t figure I’d get off so easy with just a few Scribbits to deal with.  No, I reckon this is them missin youngsters, or at least the emptied fillins of em.

           I kept on, the soft ground dippin further inward, and the devil grass getting thicker.  The hills above rose high now, and when the still-falling pebbles came tumbling down they made a racket, and gave me a sec or two to get out of their way.  But the little ones would shake loose some of the larger ones, and I found I couldn’t avoid em all, and I got one that knocked my hat off and everything.

           It had kicked me down, the devil grass rising above my head now.  Then I heard it, faint, little whispers really, echoing in my head, out there around me, but close enough to be inside.  It was wicked speak, not alive, but not dead yet either.  And them little bits, they knew my name.

           “Abacus…Jones…”

           “He has come!”

           “Rejoice!  In his name we should sing.”

           They was beginning to come in waves now.  Each of em layered all on top or under the other.  They was getting louder, like they was gatherin around me.

           “He’s the one, the dark-eyed stranger.”

           “The one who was summoned.”

           “Ill speaking worm!”

           “What condition affects you summit-seeker?”

           “The demon is among us, we should send it home.”

           “The dark eyes, they will free us.”

           “No, they will suffer us deeper.”

           I was startin to get dizzy, I felt my mind floatin around with the voices in my own head, like I was just another of em swimmin around up there.  I knew better an to listen to the devil weed, never bow your head to it, but the rock brought me down, down to the enchanted specklin of the living grass and their trance talkin.

           “Don’t listen, speak not to the way warder.”

           “some more, give it  more…”

           “help, please help us dark rider.”

           “he does not help.  The dark rider, the Abacus, he is the reason for our deaths.”

           “Yes, the reader, the sight of the soulless.”    

           “So you all’s the missin youngsters right?”  I called out in the pool of em.

           “See, he sees, already he has begun.”

           “Okay, enough already.  I’ll need my head to get the one that done poured your excesses out here.”

           “It tells us, it commands.”

           “No, not his purpose.”

           “But he speaks truth?  We are dead?”

           “Yes, dead.  Souls lost to the separated Earth.  Just vile weeds.  Now let me go!”

           “He preaches, the soulless preaching’s.”

           “Enough damned trance talk.  I need outta here, or…no, you need out.  Get outta my skull!”

           “And you will avenge this?”

           “The death of us all?”

           “Yes, he will.  That is why he was summoned.”

           “Summoned?  No one summoned me.  I found a flyer.  Reward poster.”

           “We will free him then, but must do so as a whole.”

           “Wait a sec, answer me.  What do you mean summoned?”

           “Yes, free him.  His soul hole stinks.”

           “Then go Dark rider.  We release you.”

           “Wait!”

           The voices shot out, and I felt my body again.  But I had a question burning in my skull now, a leftover from the weed.  The sun was nearly gone from the sky now, I would be in the pitch dark soon.  My path would take me further down, deeper still into the valleys, until all light had gone from the place.  All light save for a single glimmer coming from an opening just ahead.

           I gripped the splintering wood handle of my gun, it was cold, but I reckoned it’d be getting warm real soon.  I took one last look toward the empty sky, and two glowing red eyes stared back.  But one blink later and they was vanished, like they was never really there at all.  Probably just some tracer from the weed I figured.  I shook it off, and put my focus back on the entrance in front of me.  I figgered that my little job was about to be over, and that bag of gold sittin in my satchel was itchin to get to bein spent.

           Yeah, I know, this was all workin out a bit too well so far, and of course it wasn’t going to stay that way.

[muffindaddystyles]

I WANT YOUR BELLY.

Summary: The shimmery vest of Harry's on you makes him combust on the spot ;)

A bottle of wine gone in a span of minutes. Your giggles treacly and slurry as you poke his heart-shaped, wine stained lips matching with his pink refulgent vest and he grins toothy-ly sweat sheened on his perfect features and his nose twitches into besotted sniff of your fragrance, leaning down to murmur his lips to yours.

“What got ya gigglin’ like tha’ lovebug?” You shake your head in slight carelessness. His brows furrowing in confusion, mouth parting musingly into a soft chuckle when you shimmy his vest down his arms leaving his upper half naked and all beautiful for you to admire.

“Just relax and see.” You whine out timidly tip-toeing on your toesies to the centre of the hotel room you guys are staying at -- well more like fucking morning and evening with a little tinge of exclusivity everytime.

When you came back to this cosy place of yours after an hour of his show ending that shimmery feeling of proud for him and the jitteriness to love on him was still there, more like doubled up when your eyes weren’t able to drift away from the stiff bulge forming in his pants from all the adrenaline and heat pumping in his body due to praises.

He takes pride in it, absolutely basks in the novelty of it.

His dimples dings up into a wicked smirk, the heels of his palms sinking into the soft bedding as he man-spreads quite sexily and leans into his own weight then straightens up immediately with bright eyes and a shit-eating grin when you strip down your clothes slowly.

“You givin’ me a strip tease baby!?” He howls playfully and you shushes him through sputtry giggles, head lulling at your shoulder and you laugh at the top of your lung as he rolls his eyes to his skull in the most erotic way and squeezes his straining member with the cup of his large palm when you get rid of every item of clothing you had on your body and with hesitant glances his way wears his vest.

It accentuates your curves beautifully, falling a little over your thighs from how big it’s since it’s his’s and it gives the most pristine view of the crescent of your tits and the valley between them.

His stomach froths with heat, the fabric of his pink flared bottoms from his splotching with the dollops of his precome and his bare chest heaves with raged breaths as you rub your one feet over another in timidness, knowing you’re drunk enough to do this but sober enough to contemplate how to put it infront of him.

Though they both know even if you move it an inch away to show him your perky tits, it’s over for the curly head.

“You know how belly dancers got this cute sparkly shiny dresses to make them appear more bendy? I’ve always wanted to do that! It seems so fun!” To your defence you always wanted to dance as carefree and fun as they do all you didn’t know was that it’ll be like this – giving a literal fever to your boyfriend and arousing both of you to such an extent where all his fierce eyes are indicating he’s about to strike forward and throw you on the bed and pound into you reckless.

The room fills with her sweet laugh when Harry fans himself, puffing out huge inhales of breaths and smirks at her cheekily.

“A lap dance would be much appreciated, thank you.” He's almost about to burst because she sure as hell looks amazingly stretchy and bendy and very breed able in this shiny thing.

“What a gentleman. Now, put on some music so I could give you a show you really deserve.” You command him and he nearly whimpers wanting to crawl towards you and spanks that bum of yours.

You’re suppressing your chuckles when he almost falls face first into the carpeted floor while scrambling to put on some music and when he returns back he’s rocking back and forth like an impatient kid -- doing anything in his will to give a bit friction, some relive to his throbbing cock.

“Promise that you wouldn’t make fun of me.” You point a finger at him, eyebrow raised to assert a little bit of power you’ve over him.

“C’mon baby! My balls are turning blue d'ya think I could ever make fun of you when you’re being such a good girl f'me?” His groans shaky and hoarse, nostrils flaring and his hands sandwiching between his thighs to subside the ache that you caused.

Hot white pleasure surges through each of his cervices and rattles through his bones upon the absolute lewd and smutty sight of you dancing for him with your eyes affixed on him like a seductress and it pelts his skin hot.

“Fuck.” He’s cursing under his breath, as you curve around gracefully and shakes your ass for him teasing your fingers over the waistband of your lace panties.

You bite down your lip when he puts his fingers under his tongue with his mouth sucked around them as he wolf whistles for you.

“Yes you go baby!” He yells at you making you laugh rosying your features and not failing to make you feel tingly under his passionate gaze.

The he looks down at himself in rather pique tugging his tight briefs a little away from suffocating his dick that's swelling up awfully fast and leaking with every graze and touch making him hiss groggily through his teeth loudly.

His reaction makes your cheeks flush and your toes curl against the soft carpet, making you all gooey with your own slick.

He almost looses it when you roll your hips and your tummy ripples raunchily.

You’re taken aback when he’s striding towards you, cupping the nape of your neck roughly and pressing his thumb into your nervy pulse pushing you till you’re pressed into the wall and he’s muffling your surprised squeaks with a big fat smooch to your lips which turns into sloppy heated work of mouths, tongues slick and naughty against eachother, teeth nibbling and teasing, lips too desperate to be parting away and when they do they’re hovering over eachother with their breaths hot and fanning.

“Look at y'being a filthy tease.” He tuts, warm fingertips tickling down your chest and sneaking under his vest to palm your tits as he ducks down to lick a fat stripe up your throat then sink his teeth into soft underbelly of your jaw.

“Now tell me who taught you to dance this good?” Everyone should sit down and takes notes from one and only Harry Styles; the man sure knows how to lie through his teeth because what you pulled moments ago was just clumsy drunk flailing of limbs.

“God gifted.” He chuckles mockingly, tapping your bottom pouty lip.

Your neck stretches far giving him more access to mark you as his’s, your fingers manoeuvring into his sweaty ruffled up curls when he glances up at you intensely with your nipples sucked in his mouth and his hand gliding into your panties – smirking goadingly at the squirm and pathetic gurgle of your tone.

“just like this pussy of yours?”

Except his eyes no blade can control you, no sharpened knife. That lascivious gaze’s enough to threaten a storm up your thighs and cause a rainfall between your legs.

Carefully, he puts his knees on the floor one by one while he paws at your hips to vignette admiring kisses down your midriff.

“Stop! It tickles!” You gasp giggle when his fingers palliates into your soft love-handles nipping and lapping then sponging tender kisses to your belly, your back arching abruptly with a low crack your blunt nails scratching down the wallpaper when Harry coos and spurts noises of admiration.

“Can’t help it, poppet. I love your little belly so much.” Your mouth parts around shallow breaths when he nuzzles his nose against your heat and engulfs into the tangerine smell of your arousal, pressing a kiss to the damp spot and murmuring against it with his calloused palm hardly pressed to your quivering tummy.

“Love feelin’ myself snug in your belly, how it warbles and gurgles fo’ me t’ fill it up with me cum,” His gruff tone sending cold shivers down your spine, making you wetter and slicker, pussy lips clenching around nothing making squelching noises catching Harry’s attention and he smirks ominously -- startling you with a gentle nip to the inside of your thighs then ripping your panties in one harsh tug.

“You love takin’ my cock in this cute belly of yours don’t ye' kitten?” He asks you, eyes glued to the way you melt into his touch when he parts your glistening pulsating folds away with his middle and index, mesmerised at how drippy you’ve managed to get for him as it coats his digits then tricks down his wrist thickly.

“Hmm. Guess like I’ve no option but to treat myself to the sweet pussy of my belly dancer.” He hums roguishly, making you bob your head vigorously and pulling at his hair to nudge him to do something anything to quell this ache that's soaring like a flame in wind making you embarrassingly more slippery every passing second.

Your eyelids skewers tight, fingers falling lip atop the mop of his curls and knees quaking thanks to Harry’s strong biceps straddling you over his shoulders as he spreads your legs wider apart and grips onto your thighs with his all might and strokes his tongue in one tantalising hot lick from all the way to your slit up your pulsing clitoris wrapping his lips around the sensitive nub into a nasty suck and toys it around with his tongue.

“Ha –- H ... Harry!” You whimper out meekly grinding your cunt against the faint stubble growing over his cupid-bow, pleasure spiking into your each pore at how good it feels.

“Mhmm kitten, tell me does daddy makes y'feel good? Warm and nice?” A string of saliva connects his lips and your clitoris. He presses his two fingers to it moving them up and down to lube them then to rub your clit in tight little circles, putting right pressure and attention to it as you cry out slumping against the wall and grabbing onto the nearest furniture with a mantra of harryharryharry booming in your head.

“Yes, yes, yes. You’re so good to me,” You mewl out impishly incasing his head perfectly between your thighs, trembling in his hold when he eases his ring and middle finger inside you gauging for your reactions and carousing in the way your face falls placid into pure bliss, your lips wobbly and the corners of your eyes dotting pink.

“This feels good, moppet?” He asks gruffly curling to caress the spot that sends you into wreck havoc and plunges his fingers deeper inside you, the tip of his nose stuffing into your mound as he licks into you hungrily and sloppily getting his cheeks and chin all messy and shiny with your juices.

“Bet, daddy’s cock feels better. Stuffs y’belly more good.” He growls, the vibrations jolting you in your skin. His fingers fucking into you quicker and deeper, pushing his knuckles to your weepy tight entrance – your cunt swallowing his rings.

Your chin tips up towards the ceiling moaning breathily, thighs trembling and hands gripping his shoulders that’ll leave guaranteed bruises as the ministrations of his mouth and tongue on you, his fingers thrusting in you and his face making a mess out of your drippiness become too much for you sending you into a over drive of buzziness making you lightheaded and floaty.

“C’mon kitten drench me, cum in daddy’s mouth.” Is all it takes for you to do what he asked for and you almost fell forward if not for Harry’s support squirting with loud and wounded moans.

He almost combusts in his pants when you grit carnally riding his face and shoving yourself down into him, not able to stop coming while he encourages you, soothing your aching thighs with gentle strokes, “That’s it baby, atta girl.” And “You did so good f'me kitten, g’na show you how hard ‘m for you.”

"Cute. How bout I fuck you in every one of my outfits?" He pats your cheek, smacking a big kiss to it and doesn't wait for your response before throwing you over his shoulder and landing a stinging slap to your bum.

His dark lustful eyes indicating that he’s not done with you yet.

[angelmavmurdock]

Our Little Secret: Part Six - A.R.

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

-

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

-

I attended Lenora's funeral as her best friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Arvin's POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That son of a bitch.

***

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

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

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

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

I didn't say anything.

"Arvin?" She prompted.

I looked up at her.

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

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

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

She knew me too well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well she was." I took a puff.

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

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

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

I licked my lips and nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I gulped, "I know..."

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

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

"Hey," She chirped from underneath me.

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

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

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

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

I just smiled weakly at her.

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

Reader's POV

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

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

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

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

"Feels so good." I hummed.

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

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

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

"Want you, Arvin." I hummed.

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

"You sure?" He asked.

"I need you." I whispered.

That was enough for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Whatcha starin' at?" He smirked.

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck, I want to."

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

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

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

"N-no." I answered honestly.

His eyebrows furrowed for a split-second.

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

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

"Have you ever touched yourself before?"

My throat went dry.

"No." I answered again.

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

I nodded with a hum.

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

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

"Already so wet, darlin'."

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

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

"How does that feel?" He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

"Arvin!" I whined.

"What, angel?" He asked softly.

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

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

I nodded, "Please."

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

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

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

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

"You ready?" He asked.

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

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

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

"Arvin," I moaned.

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

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

"Please go faster." I whimpered.

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

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

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

"Oh god!" I tugged on his hair.

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

I rolled my eyes back at his words.

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

"So tight around me," He commented lowly.

"Can we flip?" I asked breathlessly.

"'Course."

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

"Fuck." We both cursed in unison.

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

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

"W-woah." I panted.

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

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

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

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

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

Love.

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

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

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

"Arvin," I moaned.

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

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

"Shit!"

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

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

"Fuck- to your high, baby."

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

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

His fingers worked faster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you, too." He grinned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck, baby-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nodded, "Every word."

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

"I love you." I whispered.

"I love you, too."

-

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

(Play now)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arvin smiled, "I love you."

I giggled, "I love you, too."

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

We were happy. And we were in love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Our lips pressed together.

But only briefly.

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

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

I looked at the clock on the wall.

11:57.

"SHIT!" I exclaimed.

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

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

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

"Back soon!" Arvin shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ma!" I shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

"y/n, inside right now!"

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

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

Ma went to grab my arm but I dodged it.

"No!" I screamed.

"y/n!"

"No! I wanna be with Arvin!"

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

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

"IN LOVE?" Ma shouted.

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

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

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

"Arvin!" I scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No!"

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

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

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

I furrowed my brows and shook my head in disbelief.

"y/n-" I interrupted my mother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I saw tears fall from his face.

I stopped and stood back, watching with blurred eyes as he got into the car and drove off quickly.

I choked on a sob and kneeled to the ground in a cry, letting all the emotions I had pent up go. Absolutely everything.

Ma came up to me to comfort me but I pushed her off and stood back up.

"No! You don't get to comfort me after ruining love for me." I cried, pushing past her and running to the house.

I ran up the steps and I paused briefly when I saw Daddy watching with tired and heartbroken eyes. He silently moved to the side to let me storm away. I sobbed uncontrollable sobs as I ran up the stairs and slammed my door shut, sliding down to the floor.

I thought he loved me.

-

{Tags: @notanordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy​ }

[mowulf]

You Gotta be Kitten Me

CH 2: It's only a flesh wound

A note on cat breeds, because I don’t feel like spending an absurd amount of time describing them. (Also only Spy would have any idea what the different breeds are because he’s fancy like that.) From largest to smallest:

Heavy - Blue maine coon. He’s the largest by weight and length and has the cat equivalent of resting bitch face.

Sniper - Savannah cat. He’s the tallest, but he’s lanky and not nearly as long as Heavy.

Demoman - You know those cats that are so black they’re basically walking black holes? Yeah, that’s him.

Spy - Tuxedo cat. Primarily black with white fingers, white chin, and a white triangle on this neck and chest. When he sits up straight he does, indeed, look like he’s wearing a tiny, furry suit.

Soldier - Siamese. He’s loud. He’s obnoxious. And he makes sure you know he’s there.

Scout - Egyptian Mau/DSH mix. Egyptian Maus are the fastest domestic cat breed, reaching up to 30 mph, and can leap absurdly high. While he’s got the build of a Mau, the DSH shows in his calico coat.

Pyro - Ruddy Abyssinian. They look vaguely burnt and, like Scout, are quite small. Yes, they wear a sock on their head. No, you won't be able to convince them to take it off.

-----

“Gentlemen, we have a situation,” Spy said as he looked around the room. The other cats stopped what they were doing and approached. No point delaying the conversation.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Scout said as he trotted over to shove Spy. “How come y’all get ta be so much bigger ‘n’ me? ‘S not fair.”

“That is beside the point, Scout.”

“That is exactly the point!”

”Scout.” Spy planted a paw on Scout’s head and pushed him away. Sniper got the hint and gently but firmly shooed Scout to the opposite side of the forming circle.

Demoman took a seat next to the awkward pair while Sniper attempted to figure out a way to gently pin Scout without accidentally crushing him and casually curled his tail around his paws. “It’s not all that bad,” he said casually. “We’re smaller, so we’ll be harder to hit. Pro’ly faster, too.”

Spy folded his ears and sighed deeply. “Really? Really? That’s what we’re going with? ‘It’s not so bad.’ Are you listening to yourself?”

Sniper flicked his tail and snapped, “Yeah, mate, we heard him just fine. What’s your problem?”

“My problem is a distinct lack of thumbs. Or did you forget?” The group fell silent as everyone examined their hands. Once he was satisfied that enough time had passed, Spy continued, “We didn’t just lose a few inches. Sniper is, at best, as long as his rifle, I can’t even hold a knife let alone stab anyone, and I’m reasonably certain the intelligence is twice Scout’s size.” He straightened up and settled a glare around the group. “We’re useless at best. Hell, Medic and Engineer would likely have an easier time in the next mission if we all just stayed at base. Especially if they have Heavy.”

A heavy silence descended on the circle. After a few moments Soldier stood up and yelled, “That’s still no excuse to not fight! We have claws! We have teeth! We’ll just have to fight them the old fashioned way!” His tail lashed as he spoke and at the end he reared back and swiped at the air.

Sniper was quick to shut that down by yelling, “That’s assuming we can even get close to anyone!” He puffed up and growled, high and deep. “We’re too small. We might catch someone off guard the first time, but then everyone will know to look out for us. Alone we stand no chance. As a group, we’re too obvious!”

“‘Sides, we need to get their intelligence back to base. Mission doesn’t end until someone has someone else’s briefcase,” Scout snapped, ready to jump up only to be pressed back into the floor when Sniper stepped on him.

“Those are the words of a coward! There are no cowards here! Or do I need to remind you maggots of that?” Soldier took a step forward, legs stiff and tail lashing in anger.

Sniper lowered his head and curled his lips in a snarl. “If you think I’m going to just throw myself into enemy fire with no hope of walking away, you’re a fool.” Scout squeaked as Sniper stepped on him to approach Soldier. Scout wanted nothing to do with the fight that was about to break out. While Sniper had the upper hand in terms of size, Soldier more than made up for that in crazy.

On the sidelines, the other mercs chimed in trying to break up the fight before it began, but no one was willing to actually get close. Even human, Soldier was not a force to be reckoned with. Once Sniper was no longer standing on him, Scout joined the rest in the safe zone.

Sniper and Soldier approached each other stiffly until there was only a few inches between them. Soldier’s tail continued to lash dramatically while Sniper’s only twitched at the end. For a long minute the pair simply glared and growled.

Soldier made the first move. Sniper flinched back when Soldier lunged forward, allowing the smaller cat to latch onto his neck and shoulder, back legs tearing at whatever they could reach. Sniper shrieked, swatted a couple times at Soldier, before running toward the nearest wall and throwing himself Soldier-first into it. Yelling broke out from everywhere, a combination of cat howls and human shock.

The impact didn’t knock Soldier loose and only seemed to make him more aggressive. The cat twisted and sank his claws deeper into Sniper’s shoulder while pulling with his teeth until he felt something give. Sniper responded by slamming into the wall three more times in quick succession, finally stunning Soldier enough to make him start to lose grip. That was all Sniper needed to finally stick his foot under Soldier and rip the other cat off.

He stumbled back a couple steps before lunging forward with a yell, only to be slammed into the ground by Medic. One hand grabbed the scruff of his neck and the other a fistful of loose skin near his rump and hauled him back, spitting and screaming. Engineer scooped Soldier before he could launch back at Sniper.

The two spit curses and profanities at each other until Demoman leapt between them and bellowed “SHUT UP!” Silence. “Soldier,” he turned to face, “this is not cowardice or abandonment. Think of it as a tactical retreat until we can figure out how to get the upper hand back.”

“That’s true,” Spy said. “We’re at a disadvantage. We need to figure something out.”

“But-” Soldier flinched when Demoman trotted up and bopped him on the nose. “We can’t-” Another bop. “Would you-” Bopbopbop Demoman stopped and hopped away when Engineer waved him off.

Once he was sure that Soldier had shut up, he turned his attention to Sniper. “And you!” Sniper bristled but remained silent. “If yer gonna fight, take it outside. You know th’ rules.”

More silence. Everyone waited tensely until Sniper finally sighed and Soldier relaxed. A collective sigh was released and the tension finally drained from the room.

“I’m going to need the medigun,” Medic announced. “I’ll be right back.” With that he released Sniper and left the room.

Soldier wriggled out of Engineer’s grip and the man made another grab for him but stopped when he saw the cats regather into the circle. Scout made a couple laps of the malformed circle, chirping in distress until Sniper finally dragged himself into their original spot, at which point he tucked himself firmly into the larger cat’s side. He made a few more distressed chirps as he eyed the mauled fur and flesh but was silenced when Sniper lay a paw across his back.

“Establishing communication should be our top priority,” Spy said once the circle had been properly reformed. “We can’t do much if Medic and Engineer can’t understand us.”

The other cats nodded and made various sounds of agreement only to fall silent when a deep voice rumbled, “Da.” Everyone turned to see an absolutely massive maine coon staring down at them. Even Pyro did a double take before scooting to the side to make space. There was a moment of reshuffling before Heavy finally took a spot and lay down, careful to tuck his lugs beneath him. “Doktor is dangerous. Keep distance and avoid his room.” He paused for a second, then added, “Avoid medbay, too. Anywhere he keeps birds.”

The circle gave another chorus of agreement. If Heavy was giving the warning, then extra caution needed to be used. Right as Spy was about to resume the conversation, Medic reentered, paused, and said, “Heavy?” Heavy looked up, flicked his tail, and then pointedly looked away. Sniper looked between the two before deciding they needed space. “I’ll be back,” he muttered before pushing himself to his feet and limping over to Medic.

Spy coughed to draw everyone’s attention. “As I said before, we’ll need to establish some form of communication. Does anyone have any suggestions?”

“What about morse code?” Soldier asked.

Spy hummed. “Not a bad idea, assuming either of them know any. I know a little, but not nearly enough.”

“Do you know enough to get food?” Scout whined, stretching and rolling onto his back dramatically. “I’m dyin’ over here!”

“Scout-”

“No! Shut up!” He hopped onto his feet and puffed. “I didn’t eat supper on account of I wasn’t feelin’ good, and we ain’t had breakfast. I can smell bacon an’ I’m starving!”

“Mmph! Mr hnng trr,” Pyro chirped, also jumping up and circling in place. Spy smacked his face and groaned, knowing that there was no hope of getting the impromptu meeting back on track. Not with Scout and Pryo now feeding each other’s energy. Best to get them both fed before they worked each other into a frenzy.

“What’d I miss?” Sniper asked as he returned to the circle.

“Somethin’ somethin’ marsh code an’ Spy’s gonna get us food,” Scout announced before anyone else could speak. Pyro hopped over, muffled chattering displaying their excitement over the prospect of finally getting to eat something. The rest of the mercs were eagerly discussing breakfast as Demoman took the lead toward the cafeteria.

Medic and Engineer watched as the cats all began filing out of the room. As Heavy passed, Medic leaned down to try and grab Heavy, only to jerk back when the cat whipped around and snapped at him. Heavy gave an angry huffed before ambling after the rest.

“Well,” Engineer said slowly, “That was… interesting.” He stood up from his spot on the floor and stretched. “What do you recon they’re up to now?”

Medic ran a hand through his hair, sighed, and hefted the end of the medigun off the floor where he’d set it after treating Sniper. “Don’t know. Don’t care. Keep an eye on them. I’m going to call Miss Pauling.”

“Good luck with that.”

Engineer trailed after the small army of cats while Medic heaved another sigh and made his way back to the medical bay. The medigun was easily put away and he took a moment to pet Archimedes before he left in search of the base phone. If he was lucky, Pauling would be free enough to swing by the base. She could wrangle everyone under control and figure out what to do next. Or at least give him some pointers on how to take care of cats. Then he’d have to run to town and get cat food.

Fun.

[captainsourwolf]

I believe @castielspsychnerd called me “delightfully rude” for the little preview she got of this. So everyone enjoy.

*please mind the tags, I know some people don’t like these kinds of fics*

—————————————————————————

It’s his wife’s fault. All her damn fault. She brought it up and now Link can’t stop thinking about it. A simple, stupid observance that set his pulse racing and his dick twitching in interest, and fuck if he doesn’t blame every thought that’s crossed his mind since on her.

So what if he blushed when she mentioned how pretty of a mouth Rhett has? And so what if he squirmed when she mentioned wanting to know what he tastes like? It’s not like—

Okay it’s a lot like. She said what she said and Link squirmed and blushed just at the mere mention of his best friend’s mouth. And then when she smirked and left the room he hid in the bathroom and got off quicker than he has in a long time; wrapped his hand around his rapidly swelling cock and thought of nothing but Rhett’s pretty mouth wrapped around it until he was biting his lip and cumming so hard his toes curled against the tiles.

And it’s definitely her fault he’s spread out on the bed hours later, dick hard and leaking a sticky trail down his length and on her knuckles, hands clenched in the sheets, and moaning shamelessly while she runs her mouth. She’s got her hand wrapped around his shaft, just loose and unmoving, holding him as she talks. With every murmur and tease her lips brush his skin and make his muscles shake. He moans again and she laughs, kisses the tip of his cock.

“Baby—“

Link huffs and raises his hips to try and get her mouth around him. But she won’t do it. Not yet. She’s too busy using it to drag filthy images to his mind about Rhett.

“Think he’s good at sucking a cock?” Link gasps and Christy giggles. “Such a small mouth, bet it’s nice and tight. You ever thought about it?” He chances a glance down at her, sees her flushed face and pretty eyes and tousled hair, her small hand wrapped around him; she’s smirking at him and when she sees him looking she winks.

And the thing is he has thought about it. He’s thought about it so much. More than he probably should. But he’s found himself thinking about Rhett sucking him off multiple times, often when he’s by himself or even when his wife is the one doing it. He’s wondered what it would feel like to slip his dick into that mouth, how far he could go before Rhett chokes, how nice it would be to thread his fingers through that stupid manbun and fuck Rhett’s face.

Groaning, Link jerks his hips up, tries again to get her on his cock. There’s that damn laugh again. “You gonna suck me off or keep running your mouth?” he huffs. She squeezes her hand around the base and strokes him once, twice, a third time to spread his mess around, and then she’s finally, blissfully wrapping her lips around his cockhead and running her tongue through the slit.

Link can’t remember the last time he was this wet, this horny for someone, but every little lick across his slit and every press of her tongue against that one spot under the head has him drooling an excessive amount of precum. She grins around him then sinks lower, backs off too fast and leaves him whining for more.

“Ever wondered how far he can go, baby?” Link kicks at her lightly, foot connecting with her hip. She laughs that sweet little laugh and starts stroking him slowly, languidly like she’s got all the time in the world. Link wouldn’t mind keeping it like this, just the two of them because they have the house to themselves, but he’d also really like to cum; feels like she’s been teasing him for hours. “Have you?”

Link moans softly, throwing an arm across his face as he blushes. “Yeah, yeah, I have,” he mutters. Her hand speeds up at his admission and she rubs her thumb across the head the way he likes, then she’s taking him in again; sinks as low as she can and hollows her cheeks on the way back. Link tangles his free hand in her hair and guides her the way he wants. He knows how much she can take and if he closes his eyes he can almost imagine it’s Rhett’s curls he’s holding onto and Rhett’s willing mouth he’s thrusting into.

They stay that way for a few moments, Link’s moans getting higher and louder. She sucks him hard and groans around him and uses her other hand to play with his balls. He squirms, she dips lower, pressing a knuckle into his taint briefly then lower still where she runs her index finger around his hole.

“I know you’ve fingered yourself thinkin’ about him, lord knows I have,” she starts, eyebrow raising in a challenge—don’t judge me. Link chokes on his protest; there’s no denying it, she knows everything about him, almost as well as Rhett does. “Think he can do it better? Better than me, even?”

Link whines high and loud and threads his fingers through his hair, holding on tightly as she leaves a trail of kisses on his inner thighs and the length of his cock and then she’s disappearing. She leans across the bed to the nightstand and grabs the almost-empty bottle of lube.

“He’s got such thick fingers, baby, I bet they’d feel real nice stretching you open.” Link swallows around a moan, hips rocking. The cap pops open and then she’s got one slick finger up against his hole, smearing the lube around his skin before pressing in with just the tip. “How many could you take?”

She doesn’t give him time to even think of a comeback before she’s slipping her finger in the rest of the way, easy and slow, and licking his cock from the base to the head. Link jerks and groans, heart hammering away in his chest, precum pooling on his belly. Another quiet laugh then she’s pulling her finger out and applying more lube; she comes back with two fingers this time and her mouth sinking down his cock.

It’s too much all at once. He’s torn between enjoying the sensation of his wife blowing him and fingering him at the same time, and thinking about it being Rhett instead. God his mouth would be wonderful but his fingers would probably feel even better; one, two, three of them fucking Link open the same way she’s doing, brushing his prostate teasingly, stroking harder on every pass and driving him closer and closer to bliss. Link tries to focus on who’s actually here, yet his mind still wanders.

She started it after all. So really it’s also her fault he can’t stop thinking about Rhett. What would his fingers feel like? His mouth? The wet heat of him and the thickness of his fingers in tandem could get Link off faster than her, he just knows it. And fuck what about his cock? Rhett’s so big everywhere. Link would be so damn full and stretched and can just imagine the slick heat of him, taking care to go nice and slow and then fucking Link through the mattress—

Link’s cumming, surprised and fast, right into her mouth with a strangled moan, hand winding into her hair to hold her there until he’s finished, ass clenching around her fingers. Rhett would fuck him through it, pin him down and thrust into him hard and fast till he’s fighting oversensitivity. But he knows he’d beg for Rhett to cum inside him, fill him up and let it spill out of him, and the thought has him jerking through another wave, cock dribbling out a weak stream onto her tongue.

With a whine he slips from Christy’s mouth and she pulls her fingers out. Link feels her settling on top of him, thighs squeezing around his hips to get his attention. He looks up at her, at the pretty pink pout of her mouth and the bit of cum and spit at the corner and her mess of blonde hair, and grins.

“Feelin’ good right about now?” She grins back and pats his sweaty chest. Link giggles and sits up on his elbows. “As hard as you just came, I hope you’re feelin’ better than good.”

A blush heats up his cheeks. She wiggles and grabs his chin, tilting his head up for a kiss. He’ll give her as many kisses as she wants if it means they do that again. When she goes to sit back Link tangles fingers in her hair and pulls her back down, kissing her deeper and harder.

“Your turn?” Link murmurs, other hand trailing down her front and finding the waistband of her panties. She stays for a second, lets him dip his fingertips underneath the fabric, lets him get close enough to make her shiver, but she sighs and grabs his wrist.

“I’m going to clean up. Take care of things myself.” She says it simply as she rolls off of him and to the edge of the bed. “Maybe later we can revisit this. You’re not the only one that’s noticed how hot your best friend is. Or his wife.” Link chokes out a quiet moan and flops back to the bed; his cock gives a valiant effort at rallying but remains completely spent on his thigh.

“I’m gonna hold you to it,” Link says and delivers a light swat to her hip. Her laugh makes his belly flutter and his pulse quicken again. He watches her grab her robe from the floor before standing and heading for their bathroom.

“Oh and don’t forget,” she turns at the door, a sly smile on her lips and winks, “the McLaughlins are coming over for dinner later.”

Link just grabs a pillow and tries to smother himself with it.

[howdoyousleep3]

Kinktober, 10/21: Phone Sex

Jesus Christ it is done. Take it. I can’t look at it anymore. I had many people help me with this one. All my love to @musette22, @rainbowsandcoconut, and Max (who I won’t tag for fear of him getting even the teensiest bit horny when he should be resting up instead) for hype and characterization and @maddiewritesstucky for the constant hype. 

I am nervous. This is different. I’ve never done this. I chose to do only dialogue because, as @sheetsforwhichimmade so lovingly pointed out — “You don’t make life easy for yourself do you?” 🙃😅 Hope you love. 💕

Pairing: Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan Tags: Phone Sex, Established Relationship, Long Distance Relationship, Dirty Talk, Light Feminization, Mutual Masturbation  

“Hello?”

“Hey… hi.”

“Hi sweetheart, what’re you… what time is it there? You okay?”

“Mhmm fine yeah. S’about 11:30 at night.”

“You’re okay?”

“Chris, yeah m’fine, I’m… m’more than fine.”

“Are you now? Why’s that?”

“Don’t… nothin’, it’s nothin’, just… just maybe have been… drinkin’…”

“Ohh, s’that it?”

“Mhmm…”

“You think I don’t know when you’ve been drinking? You think I don’t know when my baby’s been drinkin’?”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me. You don’t know a damn thing, Evans.”

“Ohh, I think I do, baby. Listen to that giggle! You can’t even stop it.”

“Quit! I’m… m’not easy, I’m—”

“Can read you like a book, what’s it been, huh? Ninety seconds? Ninety seconds and I know for a fact you’re drinkin’ red wine?”

“Chris, how…! No, no. I will not give you the satisfaction. S’my choice, my drink. Stop laughing!”

“Don’t… don’t you pout on me, don’t go sad, sweetheart. Would never try and stop you, of course it’s your choice. I know you, is all. Your voice goin’ all low and sweet, slow and quiet.”

“Mmm…”

“That’s your red wine voice. What are you, about a bottle deep?”

“… I’m hanging up.”

“No, Seb! Baby, don’t be mean. Should be flattered I know you so well.”

“Hmm, a blessing and a curse.”

“Not sure you have many examples of that there curse but it’s fine, it’s fine. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“Seb, honey—you know what happens when you drink red wine…”

“Mmm, I don’t think I do know. Why don’t you tell me, baby?”

“Look at you… okay. I’ll play. Your voice is all hot, it’s right before bed, you’re callin’ me, you’ve been drinking red wine. I know it’s not tequila because, while one of your favorites, it does not get you calm; you turn into a loud happy little thing when you’ve got tequila in your system.”

“When’d you turn into some sort’a Sherlock Holmes?”

“Why’d you call me, Sebastian?”

“I… missed… I missed you is all. Can’t a guy call his boyfriend when he’s missin’ him?”

“A’course you can, baby. You’re doin’ more than missing me though, aren’t you?”

“I…”

“Hmm…?”

“You…! There have been so many fucking times you’ve called me while drunk on Heineken wanting me to—”

“Seb, honey… baby, shh. That feistiness is the red wine talkin’. You can call me whenever you want for… whatever you need. I just wanna hear you say it, c’mon. We both know what this is, why you’re callin’.”

“Don’t… I don’t have a reason.” 

“No? You don’t get more than a little hot and bothered when you drink red wine? A bit needy?” 

“Chris…” 

“C’mon, Seb— you callin’ me ‘cause you’re hard?” 

“I’m… ngh maybe…” 

“Yeah? C’mon, Sebastian. Tell me.” 

“Baby don’t… god I hate how that voice makes me just… do things.” 

“What voice?” 

“Right, like you don’t know. I may have a red wine voice but you… you gotta horny voice, a hot voice.” 

“Do I now? S’it helpin’ you? Is it what you want?” 

“S’always what I want…”

“Atta boy, there you go. Let’s try again— why’d you call me, Sebastian?” 

“M’hard and I… I miss you.” 

“God, love when you call me when you get like this. Miss you too, sweetheart. You in bed?” 

“Mmm, mhmm yeah. S’a bit empty. Wish you were here to take up space and hog the blanket.” 

“I’d give anything to come be your blanket hog. You naked?” 

“God… yeah yeah’m… m’naked.” 

“S’my favorite version’a you. So fuckin’ pretty, should never wear clothes.” 

“Ngh, Chris…”

“Ohh already, baby? You already there?” 

“No, not close, not—“

“No, Seb— not close to coming. You know what else happens when you drink red wine? Know you know…” 

“I… I can’t really think right now, Chris. I’m busy doing—“

“You get sweet. You love bein’ pretty and sweet for me when you are this far gone, ain’t that right, kitten?”

“Fucking hell.”

“Tell me I’m right.”  

“A’course you’re right, I… I don’know why I get this way, but I do. Maybe it’s you.”

“There’s no need to pout, sugar. Love you no matter what version’a you I get. It’s just how you are when you get to sippin’ on wine—you get needier.”

“Mhmm, I do. I miss you.”

“Miss you too, baby. Know you’d be all up in my neck right now, can practically feel your tongue on my ear. Fuck, can’t wait to get my hands on you. Tell me what you’re doin’, what’dya look like?”

“Y’know what I look like…”

“Tell me anyway, pretty.”

“Oh I’m… m’on my back, flat. Got my hand on my chest, I’m—”

“You givin’ yourself those soft touches? Yeah?”

“You’re proud’a yourself for knowin’ that, can hear your smile. Makes me even harder…”

“Jesus… c’mon don’t distract me, I know what I want and that’s you to tell me what you’re doin’.”

“I’m… m’so hard.”

“Don’t need to whisper it, honey—I know. You been touchin’ yourself?”

“No, I… m’waiting.”

“Oh, Sebastian. What a good boy…”

“Chris, tell me… tell me what to do, please I’m—”

“Oh, sugar never have to beg. Sound sweet as fuck doin’ it but don’t have to; y’know I’ll give you anything you want. Wet your finger, get that thumb and another one in your mouth, don’t—Baby, don’t you get carried away. Don’t get distracted the second somethin’ gets in your mouth.”

“But I—”

“Put those fingers on your nipple, give it a good swirl, yeah. When you pinch, pinch lightly, light. Just—there it is, just like that. Know that noise. How’s that feel?”

“More… want more.”

“So greedy. Bet you’re leakin’, bet you’re so wet. That pretty dick all wet?”

“God… could listen to you… yeah yeah it’s wet I’m… m’so wet.”

“Yeah you are, know you are. Touchin’ those pretty nipples makes you drip, sweetheart. Listen to you…”

“Want… are you hard?”

“Am I hard? Sebastian, of course I am, are you fuckin’ kidding me? You call me all needy and touchin’ yourself and you don’t think I’m gonna get hard? Baby, I’m achin’.”

“Wan’it.”

“Mmm, want what? Huh?”

“Chris want… fuck, want you, want your… your cock.”

“Goddamnit… fuck, you ready to put a hand on yourself? S’that what you need?”

“Please… yeah, please please I—”

“Go on, baby go on. Get yourself all wet, spread it around. God, listen to you. Feel good?”

“God mhmm, yeah it… it does it… so fuckin’ good. Tell me what you look like, what… what your hand looks like on yourself.”

“Shit, how’d you know?”

“You may know my red wine voice, but I know your fist-fucking voice.”

“God, I love you.”

“Mmm… love you. Tell me, please...”

“Fuck, m’so hard, Seb. On the couch, a hand on myself, loose. I’m thinkin’ about how pretty you’d look here between my legs, would fit real well.”

“Ohh… that’s exactly where I wanna be right now. Wouldn’t even ask you to stop, would just wanna get my mouth on your balls, wanna make it sloppy.”

“Jesus, I love it when you drink red wine. What else you want? What else you wanna do while you’re down there?”

“I just… fuck, Chris I just miss you in my mouth. I miss how… how big you feel on my tongue, how you fill my throat right up. Wanna be good for you, wanna choke on it.”

“God, Sebastian you’re so good, so fuckin’ good. Nothin’ better than your mouth on me, ngh.”

“I… I can think of something else that may be… be better…”

“Oh my, listen to that voice, the way you couldn’t even say it without moanin’. I think I might… s’it what I think it is?”

“Mmm, maybe…”

“Don’t tease me, baby. Don’t be coy.”

“Want…want your mouth on me.”

“Fuck, you’re hungry for that aren’t you? Yeah? Jerk yourself off a bit faster, Seb, a bit more. There you go, sweetheart. Tell me more about my mouth on you. Are you…?”

“Mhmm, yeah yeah. Just miss your fuckin’ mouth, ngh. Miss how… miss how you eat me out, y’so good at it, Chris. Don’t even fucking care, don’t hold back, eat my pu—oh.”

“Mmph, Sebastian. You feelin’…fuck, you feelin’ extra sweet?”

“Chris…”

“C’mon. M’hard god, baby I’m so hard for you. You wanna hear it? You wanna hear me, wanna hear my hand on my cock?”

“Oh fuck… don’t…! God, you just spit in your hand, didn’t you? Fuck.”

“Without your mouth I gotta make do. Listen, Sebastian—listen.”

“Jesus…!”

“S’wet, ain’t it? So hard, my hand is so tight, so good. Sounds like…”

“Oh god yeah, say it.”

“Sounds like your pussy.”

“Oh… oh please, oh—!”

“Fuck yeah, y’love it don’t you, princess?”

“Oh Chris, don’t… don’t do that. Don’t…ngh, ngh. Can I… I want tighter.”

“Yeah, sweetheart give yourself what you want. You’re close, I can hear it. You don’t want this often; let yourself enjoy it, come on.”

“Oh, m’close. I’m close, baby please…”

“God, wish it was that pussy eatin’ me right up instead’a my fist. D’have to spend such a… such a good amount’a time openin’ that pussy up to take me, wouldn’t I, sugar?”

“Fuck yeah you would, such a fat fuckin’ cock. God, I wan’it, Chris I miss it. Your mouth on my… on my pussy. Your fingers. You know how I like it; make it hurt a bit. Wanna feel you for days.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m close. M’close, Seb. You close? Talkin’ about your pussy is gonna get me there, talkin’ about taking just… takin’ hours gettin’ you ready is gonna make me come.”

“Yeah yeah I’m… m’close. Chris…”

“Yeah, you gonna come thinkin’ about how that pussy feels when it’s bein’ stuffed? When it’s bein’ fucked? God…”

“Know that voice. Tug on your balls, give… give ‘em a good squeeze—”

“Fuck, Seb oh—”

“I’m gonna come, make me come, Chris please…!”

“Come, baby come on, give it to me. Come with me oh, Seb baby m’comin’, fuck…!”

“Oh…! Oh god, oh…!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sebastian goddamnit nothin’… nothin’ better than hearin’ you come, fuck.”

“Chris… oh, Chris…”

“Yeah, baby yeah, get it all, make it count, long strokes.”

“Fuck, yeah yeah, so good, oh.”

“S’my boy, listen to that, oh. So fuckin’ hot.”

“S’good, so good, ngh love it, oh…”

“Mmm yeah, honey love it. God, m’so… god I made such a mess, sweetheart, oh.”

“Love…mmm love when you get the giggles after an orgasm, just… you’re just the best, god I love you.”

“Love you more. God, I needed that little afternoon delight. How’d you know?”

“Red wine brain knows everything.”

“Hmm, that voice, know that voice too. You’re about to crash. Y’get so sleepy after you come.”

“S’the red wine. Maybe. Hmph. M’messy now too.”

“Mmm, you should send me a picture’a that.”

”Christopher, it hasn’t even been five minutes after we’ve come and you wanna go again?”

“Not… not again! Just… it’s been a while, I don’t know. Gimme a little extra for later.”

“Anything for you.”

“Don’t be dramatic, don’t waste what energy you have left. You should head to bed soon. You gonna go clean off?”

“Mhmm. When do I get to see you next? Next week?”

“Yeah... yeah next Thursday, sweetheart. God, can’t wait to see you. Wish I could just stay the whole time you’re there.”

“Would love that. Love you.”

“I love you too, Seb. Wake up. Go get cleaned off. But not before you take a picture of your mess.”

“A teenager is what you are.”

“You love it. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Hope you sleep well, baby. Sweet dreams.”

“M’kay, goodnight. Bye.”

“Bye.”

[shutupaboutandraste]

hi and welcome to DWC :). how about 'Sweltering' from the summer prompt list, for Iron Bull/Cullen or Bull/Cullen/Lavellan? thank you!

Thank you! I was super excited to do the second because I haven’t gotten to write my Lavellan yet so thank you again!

Words: 970

Pairing: Bull/Cullen/Lavellan

For @dadrunkwriting 

Fuck. Ferelden. Summers. 

Growing up in the wilds of the Free Marches, Icarus Lavellan was used to warmth, but this humidity was absolute misery. Stripped of his shirt and trousers, down to just his smallclothes, Icarus was still sweating buckets, unable to escape the sweltering heat. When he had chosen Elgar’nan’s vallaslin when he came of age, he had told the Keeper that it was because he wanted the sun to always shine on him. Now, he’d just kill for rain. 

Sweat beat down his neck as he untied his pinned back hair, taking the small bit of leather to tie it up in a loose bun to keep his locks off of his neck. A fan sat on the chess board next to him, but he didn’t have the will to pick it up and fan himself off. Instead he just groaned, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the chair. To be honest, he was hiding. His nature was prone to shyness and for anyone to see him like this, he would be greatly embarrassed. 

“Boss, you feelin’ okay?” Except for that voice. 

Icarus groaned, looking up to see Bull and Cullen-- who was still in his full commander regalia because he was insane apparently-- appear, most likely to play a game of chess. Not most likely. Obviously. Since Icaurs was taking up a chair at the chess table, taking up a chair. 

“Do you think if I cast Winter’s Grasp on myself I’ll get cooler?” he asked. 

“You’ll get ice burn,” said Cullen, “I saw it happen to a mage at Kinloch once.” 

Instead of replying, Icarus just sunk lower into the seat. Bull snort, finding the other’s discomfort funny apparently. Icarus thought of himself as rarely irritable, but he certainly preferred the colder months. This was a nightmare. Much to his chagrin, Bull scooped him up. The Qunari was sticky with sweat. Upon closer inspection, Cullen was also dripping from the heat. 

His dear commander was always so firm on staying prim and proper. And Bull was always so warm, fenedhis. A lithe hand shoved at Bull’s chest trying to pull away, but he felt weak in the heat. Eventually, he simply gave up, slumping into overly warm arms. Sweat wafted into his nose, which curled up instinctively. Everyone reeked of sweat today, he was sure he was just as bad. 

“It’s too hot to play out here,” announced Bull, “And, Commander, you’re gonna get heat stroke if you stay in that any longer. And as much as I love gettin’ you out of those clothes--” 

Cullen’s face flushed a bright red, “Bull!” It had already been fairly pink from the heat, but now he was cherry colored from his forehead down to his neck. 

“--we should probably find a place that’s cool.” 

Icarus shifted uncomfortably, “The...The cells right? It’s cooler underground.” 

Bull smiled, “Hey, now that’s thinking.” And it was probably just what Bull was thinking.

The three men headed across the fields of Skyhold, watching everyone deal with the heat in their own way. Many of the soldiers had stripped down to their smalls, armor sitting nearby in case of an emergency. Cassandra had seemingly disappeared from her usual post, but that was most likely in her own search for a place to stay cool. Dorian was sitting the the shade with a book, sitting in a loose fitting undershirt and light trousers. He gave them a wave as they passed before going back to his reading. 

Once they were finally down beneath Skyhold, Bull wandered until he found a room where they stored food. While still on the warmer side, it was certainly degrees cooler than it was outside. Sitting down, Bull carefully laid Icarus down on the ground. Which, much to his delight, was blissfully cool. A low, please moan came from the back of his throat as he curled up happily. A low, rumbled laugh escaped Bull, “Easy there, kadan, I’ve got a chess game to play. Can’t get distracted now.” Icarus groaned, covering his face shyly. He knew exactly what Bull was implying and it was still far too hot. 

Cullen had pulled off his wrap and chestplate until he was down to a sleeved undershirt and trousers. Bull snorted as they began to set up the board, but Cullen didn’t heed him any mind. It hardly mattered that he had sweat through the layers-- he didn’t need to get anymore naked. They were playing chess. He was in no mood to repeat losing all his clothes again. 

“Commander,” said Bull, “For every knight or rook I take, you’re taking off your clothes.” 

Cullen scoffed, “I will not.” 

Icarus laughed softly, “You should. It adds to the stakes, doesn’t it?” 

“Inquisitor!” he scolded softly. Usually more shy, Cullen realized that the heat must have finally gotten to his head. Or, perhaps, and far more likely, Icarus didn’t want him to get over heated and suffer. Instead of replying, Icarus gave Cullen a very kind weak smile. Beneath its weight, Cullen buckled, “Alright.. But only if you do the same.” 

“Ha! Now, we’re talking,” Bull all but cheered, “Hey, whoever gets a checkmate should be able to take off Boss’ underwear.” 

A small hand smacked the side of Bull’s knee, soft and weary with exhaustion, “No.” 

Bull broke down into laughter, pressing a kiss to the top of Icarus’ head. As if in protest, Icarus scooted his way to Cullen’s side of the board. A gentle hand came down to gently stroke at the side of his hand. Though it was a bit prideful, Cullen allowed himself a smirk of victory as he let his fingers soothe the Inquisitor. Bull, despite everything, smiled fondly at the two of them. 

Cullen set his last pawn down gently, “Shall we begin?”

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Breathe

Dean x Castiel

Word Count: ~2580

Warnings: Dean feels. Angst with a happy ending. 

A/N: This is my finale fix-it to tie up some loose ends and patch some holes. 100% canon compliant, but... better! 

Thanks to @rockhoochie​ for the read and @thoughtslikeaminefield​ for all the cheerleading. 

Dean wants to scream, wait. 

Wait, Cas. 

Just a minute. 

I need a minute to breathe, Cas. 

I need more time. Please. 

It’s all too much, too much to process, too much to feel, and then the Empty is sending tendrils of black oozing nothingness up Cas’s face, smothering him, taking him away, and… 

There isn’t any more time. He’s gone. 

Dean is out of time, and he can’t breathe, let alone speak, and Cas is gone before Dean can say, I love you too. 

—

Of course Dean loved him, but… 

Family, they’d always said. It never occurred to Dean that it could’ve been… that. That it could’ve been more. Something new. 

Whenever he starts thinking about it, trying to examine his feelings a little closer, he feels like he’s drowning. The loss is so big, right now. There’s no room for anything else, and it’s terrifying, how easily it could pull Dean under. 

Dean tells himself there will be time. After they get Chuck, after they end this thing… yeah. He’ll have time. He’ll figure it out. 

Later. When it doesn’t hurt so much. 

— 

Dean’s not really sure what to do with his free will, now he has it. He doesn’t feel any different. He thought it’d feel different somehow. 

He’s tired. He’s not a goddamn hero any more; there’s no all-powerful asshole putting cosmic Tiger Balm on his sore muscles for the sake of the fucking narrative. He aches, now, and some mornings he wakes up feeling like he’s been holding the actual weight of the world on his shoulders. 

All that loss is a heavy thing to carry around. He’s getting too old to play Atlas. 

It gets easier, but not by much. There are still things that Dean can’t say out loud. He hasn’t even said the name. 

His dad always said it was selfish to waste time on shit like that. Can’t be sittin’ around feeling sorry for yourself when there are people to save, things to hunt… 

Plenty of things to hunt, that’s for damn sure. It feels mundane after what they’ve been up against, but there are plenty of monsters; they keep Dean busy enough that he doesn’t have time to dwell. 

No apocalypses. No gods, no angels. Just Sam and Dean and their dog, and one hunt after another. 

—

“I know you’re not telling me everything,” Sam says quietly, over breakfast one morning. “You gotta talk about Cas at some point, Dean.” 

“Soon.” He clears his throat. “Soon. I need some time before I can talk about… him.” 

“Dean.” 

“Cas. Before I can talk about losing Cas. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

It’s quiet for a few minutes as they eat their eggs. 

“How’s Eileen?” Dean asks quietly. 

Sam sighs. “We’re taking it slow. Maybe it’s stupid. I know she’s alive, but…” 

“You lost her.” 

“I lost her. And that’s all mixed up with… with how much I love her. I don’t know how to feel one without the other right now.” 

Dean almost laughs at that. Trust Sam to find exactly the right words for what Dean hasn’t been able to admit to himself. 

Love isn’t just love, it’s loss, and the fear of loss, and the knowledge that most people leave. They leave, and it hurts like hell. Dean doesn’t even remember what it’s like to love someone without expecting to lose them. Loss goes hand in hand with love, especially if you’re a fucking Winchester. 

“Like I said,” Dean tells him. “You need time. We both do.” 

Something shifts in Sam’s expression, like he understands, and Dean looks away. 

—

Dad always insisted that Dean make his bed in the morning. It had to be neat, everything tucked in tight… his dad learned it in the military. He taught Dean in turn, beat it into him until the lesson stuck, and Dean’s never been able to shake the habit. 

Until now. 

His dog is ready to go out and chase a frigging frisbee for a while. Dean doesn’t want to spend another five minutes making sure his bed is up to goddamn military standards. He wants to throw a frisbee and drink some coffee and hit the frigging road. 

So that’s what he’s going to do. 

It’s scary, but in a good way, like the last moment when a rollercoaster pauses before it drops. 

What’s the use of free will if he’s still following orders from a memory? 

—

That night, when he comes in and sees his rumpled sheets, Dean can’t breathe. He grabs the bottle of whiskey from the nightstand and heads right back out again. 

He knows Jack talked about being everywhere, but it feels better in the open air. Easier, somehow. The knot in Dean’s chest loosens slightly when he turns his face up to the moon. 

“Jack?” he says tentatively. “Jack, I dunno if you’re listening, buddy, but… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… all of it. Being a fuckin’ hardass. Treating you like you weren’t part of the family. You were always part of the family. You hearin’ this?” 

There’s no real answer, but Dean didn’t really expect one. He takes a slug of whiskey, wipes his mouth, takes another, and for a second he thinks it’s the alcohol, giving him that funny warm feeling.  

“Hi, Jack,” he manages. “I’d pour one out for you, but… seems like a fuckin’ waste, if you’re… I dunno. In everything, or whatever.”

This is a happy sort of warmth; it lingers. 

“My dad would say I’m being selfish, right now. Feelin’ sorry for myself. Looking back. Wasting my time wishing things could be different. But…” 

Dean looks up at the stars again. They go blurry. 

“I just — fuck. Fuck it. I don’t know what to say.” 

He sits down on the ground, head in his hands, and takes a moment to be selfish. 

—

Dean feels a little thrill the first few times he leaves his bed unmade. After about a week, it starts to feel like a new habit. 

In the morning, he ignores his dad’s voice in his head. At night, he takes his fifth of Jameson outside and sits under the stars. 

It’s quiet, nothing but crickets and wind to keep him company, but he’s not alone. Jack’s right there, waiting, whenever Dean takes the time to listen. 

He gets that glow in his chest every night. It feels like Jack’s smile did, when he waved goodbye: warm and bright and pure. It feels like his mom’s hugs used to, back when he was a kid. It feels like comfort. 

Little by little, day by day, it gets easier. The kid’s always there, waiting for him, even if Dean doesn’t know what to say. 

What would happen if he prayed to Cas? 

No. No point in wondering. Dean knows that the answer is nothing. Nothing — abso-fucking-lutely fuck-all. There would be no answer, no rustle of wings, no raspy “Hello, Dean” — he would pray, and it would be silent, because Cas is gone. 

Dean missed his chance.

—

“You out there, Jack?” 

He’s out there. Dean’s starting to trust that he’ll always be there. 

“I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to be me, not him. I don’t want to be him. ” 

He has to pause and take a deep breath. He’s been thinking about how to say it all day, and the words still don’t come easy. 

“I want to be the person you thought I could be. You and Cas, you always thought —” He takes a long drink. “— fuck. My dad didn’t — he didn’t say that enough, and I wish he’d taught me how to — how to tell people. I love you, Jack. I’m sorry. I should’ve said that sooner. To you, and… to a lot of people, probably.” 

The tears start to spill over, hot and stinging, and it’s okay, Dean reminds himself. Jack’s still there. He’s not leaving. 

“It hurts too much,” he admits, and his voice breaks. “Thinking about what I could’ve had, if I hadn’t… wasted all that time. I should’ve told Cas.” 

Dean doesn’t fight the tears. He lets himself cry until there’s nothing left, until his eyes are puffy and his voice is raw. 

When he gets up, brushes himself off, wipes his cheeks, he feels lighter. It still hurts, but he feels lighter. 

“Love you, Jack,” Dean says quietly, into the silence. “Talk to you tomorrow.” 

—

Sam is watching a family — the mom and dad and kid all holding hands, their smiles bright in the sunshine — and he looks sad. 

Dean knows what Sam would say, if he asked. 

Someday, maybe. I wouldn’t mind having kids… someday. 

When Dean thinks about family, he thinks about the past: the childhood that he dimly remembers, when everyone he loved was under one roof. He doesn’t think, someday. Not like Sam does. Most of Dean’s family is long gone, and if they ever held hands at a pie festival, Dean doesn’t fucking remember it. 

Dean tries not to dwell on it, but he’ll always remember heaven, all those years ago. Dean’s heaven was going back home to be with his family again. Sam’s heaven was running away to try to find a home of his own. 

Dean wants to tell him to go. He wants Sam to be happy almost as much as he wants Sam to stay. 

“I’m thinking about Cas. You know? Jack. If they could be here.” 

Fuck. 

For a moment, Dean lets himself imagine: holding Cas’s hand, making him laugh, walking in the park, sitting on an old porch swing, eating pie. Maybe they would have beehives. Maybe Dean would get a guitar.

Maybe they could’ve had a life together. Maybe they could’ve been happy. 

“I think about ‘em too,” Dean says quietly. 

It still hurts. Fuck, it hurts. 

— 

It takes Dean a moment to process what he’s feeling. The rebar punched through skin and muscle, and at first it just feels strange. The pain hits later. The fight’s over by the time Dean really understands what’s happening. 

He considers his options. 

He could call an ambulance. He could call Jack. He could barter and bargain and claw his way back one more time. 

He could rest. 

It’s not gonna be pretty, this way. He can feel it in there, cold and intrusive, chilling him from the inside. It’s gonna get messy real fast. 

Dean closes his eyes and tries to breathe. It’s harder than it should be. 

Jack, he thinks. Jack, I need a favor, buddy. Give me a minute, okay? And… let me go easy, maybe. If we could just skip the coughing up blood, and… yeah. I don’t want Sammy to have to watch that. Can you do that for me? Just… let me go easy, and… give me a minute to talk to my brother.

He feels that now-familiar warmth. The pain recedes, and the chill with it. 

Thanks, Jack, he thinks, and then he opens his eyes. 

“Sam,” he says quietly. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere.” 

— 

So this is it.  

He wants to see Mom and Dad, of course. He wants to give his mom a hug. He wants to just… sit with his dad. No pressure, no hunt, no rules, no orders. Maybe things can finally be simple again. As soon as Sam gets here, they’ll all be together — all those people he never thought he’d be able to hold again, all in one place. 

Dean doesn’t have to worry about losing them ever again. 

They’ll stay. 

No more goodbyes. No more loss. 

And for the first time in his life, Dean’s not in a rush to get somewhere else. He’s got nothing but time. 

He’s going to wait for Sammy. He’s going to figure out what he’s going to say to Cas. He’s going to breathe. 

Dean goes for a drive. 

— 

“Hey, Sammy.” 

“Dean.” 

They breathe. They take their time. They’re in no rush. 

Eventually, though, it’s time to hit the road again. 

“You want to pick the music?” Dean asks. 

Sam laughs as the engine rumbles to life. “Man, you must’ve missed me.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I really fuckin’ did.” 

“Are we gonna talk about this?” Sam pulls out the mix tape Dean made for Cas, all those years ago, and holds it up with a knowing smirk. He pops the cassette into the tape deck and turns up the volume. 

“Dude, you have decades worth of shit to tell me about,” Dean grumbles.

“Yeah. And you’ve got some unfinished business to deal with. Let’s go find Cas.”  

“Bitch.” 

“Jerk.” 

—

Dean’s not sure how long they’ve been driving, but he knows exactly what he wants to say — he has a speech, he has it all planned out — by the time they round a corner and see the house. Dean just stops. If they weren’t in heaven, the brakes would squeal like a motherfucker. 

He stares for a moment. It’s the house where Dean grew up, but… better. 

It’s the only house on the block now; no neighbors, plenty of privacy. It’s surrounded by a big, sprawling garden, all fenced in, and the fence needs some repairs, he can see already. There’s a stream running through the backyard, big enough that there’s probably some decent-sized trout lurking in the eddies. 

There’s a garage, too, and a car inside under a sheet, surrounded by tools, waiting for him. It looks like Baby, and Dean does a double take before deciding that he’s not going to question the logistics here. It’s heaven. Of course he has one Baby to drive, one Baby to tinker with and detail endlessly. 

There’s a porch, a big wraparound one with a swing out front. The house itself needs a fresh coat of paint; it’s starting to look a little worn around the edges, but it’s surface damage, nothing structural. It’s like the laugh lines Dean sees in the mirror when he smiles, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He earned those lines. 

Dean can’t wait to spend long quiet days in the sunshine, fixing this house up, putting some love into it, making it his own. 

There are two whitewashed beehives tucked into a corner of the garden, under an arbor, and suddenly Dean’s heart is racing. 

“I think this is my stop,” he says. His voice is a little wobbly. 

“I’ll get out and walk the rest of the way,” Sam tells him with a grin. “I’ve got a funny feeling my place is just around the corner.” 

“Love you, Sammy.” 

“Love you.” He gives Dean a hug. “See you soon.” 

The gate squeaks when he flicks the latch and swings it open. I can fix that, Dean thinks absentmindedly, as a dog starts barking. 

His dog. Miracle. He recognizes that bark. 

Cas is waiting on the porch. He’s beaming, brighter than sunshine, just like the last time Dean saw him, but this time Dean’s smiling too. 

He had a speech. He forgets most of it, now.

Dean takes the last step too quickly. He almost stumbles, and Cas grabs him by the upper arm, laughing, holding him steady. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, and Dean’s so happy he can barely breathe. 

“I love you too,” he says, and before their lips meet he says it again, just because he can: “I love you, too, Cas.” 

He knows there’s more he wanted to say, but it can wait. They’ve got time. 

.

.

.

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[fallout4reactsblog]

I was wondering if you could do an ask for those of us who don't have family to celebrate the holidays with. Companions react to Sole being upset spending their first holiday season without their family.

Cait: “Do you wish you had someone this holiday, Cait?”

It’s a weird question to come out of nowhere, and she leans around the curio she’s searching through to eye them quizzically.

“Why do you ask?”

They shrug. “I was just thinking about my family and everything, and how I miss them, and I thought I would get your opinion.”

She chews her lip thoughtfully and returns to rifling through drawers. “The way I see it, this is the one holiday I actually do have someone to spend it with. Before you, nobody gave a shite about me, you know?”

“I guess I hadn’t thought about it like that.” They laugh a little. “What an odd pair we make.”

“At least you’re not completely alone. You’ve got me, after all. Think of how much worse it would’ve been if you were by yourself.”

“That’s a surprisingly adept observation coming from you, Cait.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She chucks a loose snack cake at them.

They dodge, laughing. “It’s just strangely philosophical, you telling me to focus on what I have instead of dwelling on what I don’t. I guess I can learn a thing or too from you, huh?”

“Damn straight. You should listen to me more.”

“If I did, I’d end up dead.”

“Probably just maimed.”

“Brutally maimed.”

She waves a hand through the air. “Details.”

When they’ve quieted for a moment, she murmurs, “But for real, I am glad to have you, sole.”

Quietly, she hears. “I’m glad to have you, too.”

Curie: She taps the end of her pencil to her cheek as she searches for the right word. It’s not “impossible,” and “improbably” sounds too formal, but the word she wants escapes her. Frustrating.

“Curie?”

She glances up at sole, who’s sitting on the other end of the couch. In the middle, their legs have tangled together, and she looks past them to look them in the eyes.

“What is troubling you Madame/Monsieur?”

“Nothing, nothing. I just noticed you’ve been a lot more affectionate lately. I mean, you’ve barely left my side.”

She flushes. “Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all, I just thought it was strange.”

“I simply thought you would be feeling more lonely this time of year. Holidays can be a difficult time of year for those of us without family to celebrate with, non?”

They narrow their eyes. “Why were you even thinking about that?”

“I was simply reminiscing on my time with the other scientists before the war, and I remembered how lonely it was all by myself in the lab. They were always so happy around the holidays. And I thought to myself, sole is not in a lab, but they are also missing their family. I thought perhaps you would appreciate a little extra support.”

“That’s...” they shake their head. “That’s really sweet, Curie. Thank you.”

“Oh, do not mention it. It is merely a gesture of our friendship. You saved me from my loneliness, and I wish to return the favor.”

“Still, it’s kind. I appreciate it.”

“You are more than welcome, Madame/Monsieur. Anytime.”

Danse: He finds them out on the deck, wind whipping past them as they stare over the Commonwealth. They’ve been distant for days now, giving nothing but short answers, eyes far away when they talk. If he’s honest, he’s worried about them. It’s why he’s ditched the power armor in his bay for the moment; right now he wants to be a person, not a Paladin.

“Evening, Danse.”

They don’t turn to him when he approaches, and he doesn’t know how they can recognize his footsteps outside power armor, but he doesn’t question it. He just leans against the railing beside them.

“Something has been troubling you,” he says.

They sigh, and he can almost see them deflate against the railing. “You know, Danse, I thought that it would be easier than this.”

“What?”

“The holidays. I thought, you know, even though my family wasn’t here, maybe the Brotherhood would help fill that- that emptiness, if even just a little. But I guess it just doesn’t look like that.”

Their words hit too close to home, and he deflates a little, too. “I’m afraid you’re a year too late. With the war, there will be no holidays onboard the Prydwen.”

“Did there used to be?”

He nods, not trusting his words. He can’t tell them that, even though he understands why it’s necessary, it still hurts. They’re still new, still building their trust. He can’t sabotage that.

His silence means nothing, though, as sole seems to read his mind. “You must miss that. In a way, you don’t have a family for the holidays, either.”

Gently, they lean their shoulder to his, and he allows himself to lean back against them, just this once.

“At least we have each other,” they whisper.

He nods. “At least there’s that.”

Deacon: He doesn’t want to say it in such direct terms, but the truth is that sole’s house is a little... sad.

To be fair, they’ve only been in the Commonwealth a few months, and a lot of that was spent trying to figure out what the hell had happened to them and the world, but still. Sole’s place feels entirely like a house, and nothing like a home.

“You know, boss, you should just spend the holidays with us.”

They look up from their coffee mug from their place at their sad table with its sad, lone chair. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, just come live at HQ a while. It’s gotta be better than spending the holidays alone out here.” Slowly, he turns in a circle, as if to emphasize how empty (and sad) the walls are.

“But my memories are here, Deeks.” They blow on their coffee. “This is where I should’ve spent the holiday.”

“Yeah, with your family, if the world hadn’t gone to shit and blown up. But it did, so you should just come celebrate with us. Trust me, you’ll be a lot happier.”

He doesn’t mention the number of holidays he spent in an empty farmhouse for the sake of memory, and thankfully sole doesn’t ask.

“Deacon, are you actually... worried about me?”

“Oh, you bet, boss. I mean, look at this place. It doesn’t even have electricity. You couldn’t have holiday lights if you wanted them.”

“Do you guys do holiday lights?”

He shrugs. “Do you want to?”

For a brief moment, there’s a spark of life in their eyes. “Would it be okay?”

“Who’s gonna complain? Carrington? Just tell him that he doesn’t have to look at them.”

They hum and say, “I guess I’ll consider it.”

That’s his cue to hit him with the ace up his sleeve. “We do a game of Secret Santa, too.”

They try to hide their smile, but they’re bad at it, and Deacon breathes a sigh of relief, knowing they’re sold.

Gage: “Fuck do you mean, you miss them?”

“I mean I was fucking married and had a kid, you eyeless prick. I actually cared about my family, and it sucks that they’re not here. I’m sorry that you cut ties with your family completely, but not all of us can or want to.”

He huffs, because he can tell he’s pushing a little too hard, and if he keeps going he’ll end up wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

“Well, Overboss, trust me when I say you won’t even remember them. We got a bit of a tradition here, ourselves.”

They eye him warily. “Do tell.”

He shrugs. “Not much to say. It’s a party, we get drunk, fuck around, light some shit on fire. It’s a good time. Can’t lay around feelin’ sorry for yourself when you’re lightin’ something on fire.”

“So, Yule. You’ve reinvented Yule.”

“Call it what you want. As long as you have a good time, who cares, right?”

Their face is still doubtful.

“At least give it a shot, boss. You’re gonna have to be there anyway to keep up appearances. Might as well try to have a good time while you’re at it.”

“Alright.” They sigh in resignation. “But if I end up drunk and crying in a corner, it’s your fault.”

“I promise to hide you before you can embarrass yourself.”

“I guess that’s all I can ask for.”

Hancock: “Hey, sister/brother, what do you think of these?”

He holds up a couple strands of garland and tosses them over to a waiting sole, still perched on a ladder.

“Shockingly good condition,” they say. “But I think this stuff usually goes on the tree.”

He waves a hand. “You put it wherever you want. I’m just helpin’.”

“Well, do you have a tree?”

“Somewhere around here.” He glances around, but realizing it’s not within direct line-of-sight, shouts, “Fahrenheit!”

“What?” Her voice is muffled by the distance, but her irritation is not.

“Where’s my tree?”

“Wherever you put it last year. I don’t keep track.”

“Damn,” he huffs. “ I thought for sure that’d work.”

He heads into the other room to rifle around for his tree. There’s a beat of silence before sole says, “You know, I never have properly thanked you.”

“For what?” He glares down at the wreath in his hands, which had tricked him into thinking it was a tree, before shrugging and tossing it to the side to get hung up anyway.

“For giving me stuff to do like this. Staying busy really helps me feel less... alone, you know?”

He rocks back on his heels, peering into the other room to make eye contact with them. “Sure thing, sunshine. But I’ll warn you, it wasn’t all my idea.”

They laugh a little. “I figure Daisy had a hand in things, but still. It’s nice of you.”

“I appreciate you assumin’ that I’m not just using you for free labor.”

They laugh again, for real this time, and he can’t help but smile.”

MacCready: He wants to say something. He wants to tell them that it’ll be alright, that he’s been there and it hurts, but you make it out in the end. He wants to be able to comfort them somehow as he watches them duck their head and pretend to not see the decorations in Diamond City, but he’ll be damned if he knows how.

Fortunately, sole has the words where he does not.

“This sucks,” they declare, holed up in the corner of the Bobrov’s bar.

“I’ll drink to that.”

They clink their beers together, sip, and lapse into silence before sole says, “I really miss my family, Mac.”

He closes his eyes, pictures his boy back in D.C., and agrees. “It’s a tough time of year to be without them.”

They reach across the table and grab his hand. “Next year, we’ll go down to D.C. We’ll have found the cure by then. We’ll go see Duncan.”

“Would you really want to go?” His heart is thrilled to hear their words, but his head tells him that might only hurt them more.

“Of course. I want to see you go home and see your kid. I wish we could’ve done it this year, but...”

“That didn’t work out,” he finishes.

They nod.

“You know,” he says, taking another sip of beer, “next year we’ll have a big family celebration to compensate.”

“What, you and Duncan?”

“No, all three of us. We’ll go the whole nine yards. Lights, presents, everything. The real deal, all three of us. Family.”

That brings a smile to their face, and he smiles to see it. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but for a moment he can see the whole thing before him. The three of them together, laughing, making a family out of nothing.

Just make it through this year, he promises sole silently, and I’ll make sure you have a family holiday again.

Nick: He eyes sole in the corner of the agency, where they’re talking to Ellie about some case they’re working. They’ve been talking about leaving these past few days, about heading up to Sanctuary for the holidays. It doesn’t sit right with him. He knows sole, and he knows that only bad things await them at their old home this year.

“Well, I’m headed out.” They breeze by his desk to grab their hat. “Have a nice holiday, you two.

He looks them dead in the eyes and asks, “Why?”

They freeze right where they are. “Why what?”

“Why are you leaving? Got somethin’ real exciting up north?”

Their expression tells him they don’t have a good answer, and he sighs.

“Look, kid, I get it. You think you wanna be alone to mourn and cope with your loss. But I’m tellin’ ya, you’re not coping. You’re just making yourself miserable.”

Under their breath, they mutter, “Damn detectives. Always analyzing you,” before turning to him directly. “Well, you and Ellie already have your thing going on. I’d hate to intrude...”

“You’re not intruding,” Ellie pipes up. “In fact, I already bought you a present. In a way, it would almost be ruder to leave.”

“I bought one, too,” he says. “How about that?”

They hesitate. “Are you sure?”

“Bed upstairs is all yours. Stay a while. It’s not like ya can’t change your mind and leave later.”

They turn to Ellie, but she’s just nodding along. “I freshened up the sheets just the other day, actually.”

“Well... alright.”

He lets himself smile.

Piper: “Damn, Blue. This place looks worse than the Glowing Sea.”

Her eyes scan Sanctuary Hills. Even Preston has headed off to the Castle for the month, so the place looks well and truly abandoned. The breeze kicks up as if on cue, scattering a few leaves across the road.

“Isn’t it great?” They kick a pebble across the street, bitter expression on their face. “No family for the holidays, and nobody else, either.”

“You can’t stay here,” she says, staring at the bleak, run-down houses.

They shrug. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go. I could stay at one of the other settlements, but that just feels weird. My home is here.”

Piper shakes her head. “No way, Blue. I won’t allow it. You are not spending the holidays here and that is final, you hear me? Final.”

They glance over at her with a bemused expression. “Then where am I going?”

“Home, with me, to Diamond City. You’ll spend the holidays with Nat and I, not here in, well, this. I mean, at least Diamond City decorates.”

They laugh a little. “Piper there is no room for me in your house.”

“We will make room. This isn’t up for debate, Blue. And don’t start with the ‘Oh, I’ll be intruding’ stuff, either. Nat’s gonna be thrilled to see you, and I’ll be thrilled you aren’t moping around this place that could probably make Takahashi depressed.”

“What, the noodle bot?”

“The very same. Now, go make yourself a sleeping bag, get whatever else you need, and let’s go.”

They salute her mockingly, “Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am.”

Better to be mocked than leave sole here.

Preston: He knows without sole saying a word. He knows that pain, the haunted look that trails them, the way they linger just a moment too long in the doorway of their home before sighing. He can’t help but feel for them, too, because he still feels like he’s in those shoes, lonely around the one time of year no one should be lonely.

Maybe that’s why he does what he does. He tells himself he’s crazy, even as he treks across the Commonwealth, searching out their companions, inviting them to Sanctuary so sole can be surrounded by this new, found family they’ve made. He can’t let sole suffer alone, not this time, not ever. He knows what that loneliness does to a person, and he refuses to ask sole to face it on top of everything else.

He reminds X6 that, if he doesn’t play nice, he probably won’t live to regret it.

He meets Gage at neutral territory and, even though it disgusts him beyond belief, they make a temporary armistice for the next few months.

He tells Danse that if he makes so much as one comment about ghouls, synths, or anyone else, he won’t be able to get all the sand out of his power armor for months.

It’s not the most glamorous job in the Commonwealth, but he is bound and determined to make this thing work, no matter the cost or consequence.

X6: “I don’t think I understand. Your family is here.”

They sigh. “But they’re not, X6. Sure, I found Shaun, but he’s hardly the child I thought I was looking for, and my spouse is still dead. My own son doesn’t even know me, much less would want to spend the holidays with me. I may have found Shaun, but...” They sigh. “Did I find my son?”

He takes a moment to contemplate their words. “You’re quite distressed about this.”

“I guess?” They shake their head. “I’m just lonely, X6. That’s all. I miss my family and having someone to spend the holidays with. It just doesn’t feel the same.”

He looks at them, takes in their tired, beaten expression and their slumped posture. Quietly, he evaluates a series of options and outcomes before leaning in and whispering, “Do you want to know a secret?”

“What?”

“A secret. Do you want to know a secret?”

They slide toward him, dropping their voice to a whisper, too. “Yes.”

“Us coursers aren’t supposed to have holidays. We are not supposed to have a sense of family. You know this.”

“Of course.”

“Perhaps you would like to join us, who also have no family, for a small celebration, then. It isn’t much, but there are snack cakes.”

They look at him, almost impressed. “X6, you know that’s not allowed. Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I trust you, and I think you need us as much as we need each other. I only ask that you don’t report it, if for no other reason than our bond as friends.”

“I- X6, I’m not going to tell anyone. I’d love to go.”

He nods. “It’s settled then. December twenty-second, one in the morning, the abandoned areas behind biosciences. Bring snack cakes, and bring lots if you want to make friends.”

[mslynnwrites]

touches 42 for jmart

#42: braiding the other’s hair

This is such a good one. I wrote way more than I should've. I literally need to go get groceries but all I can do is be sad and gay on main lmao.

CW: panic attack, discussions of trauma

Jon had incredibly lovely hair. It was one of the first things Martin had noticed about him. Even now, with him going apeshit over the smallest things, it remained silky and luxuriant. It looked very soft, and Martin had a very hard time not imagining running his hands through it.

Today, he had it pinned up in a very loose, very messy bun. Thick strands escaped the band, draping around his face like an illusory helmet. Even a placebo of protection must have been nice, Martin supposed, though he wished Jon would open up and tell him what was really going on in his head. He missed their talks.

They hadn’t really spoken much since Martin revealed how he lied on his CV. He still wasn’t really sure why it relieved Jon as much as it did, but it was at least nice to catch a shy smile from him when he thought he wasn’t looking. He hadn’t quite determined if Jon had a crush on him yet, but...well, he was pretty sure that’s what it was. He hoped that’s what it was, although he was perfectly fine just being friends with the man. Still...he always was a bit of a romantic, and now Jon was aware how close in age they actually were…

He shook his head and ran a hand down his face, accidentally smudging his glasses. He couldn’t keep thinking about Jon like this; it wasn’t healthy, and Jon was in no state to handle a relationship with him. Neither of them were. Not to mention that Jon was still his superior! No matter how close he felt to him, there was still a severe conflict of interest. And if Tim was right about not being able to quit, he doubted Jon would be able to move him to another department.

Tim shot him a smirk from the other desk. “Pining again?” he snorted.

“Shut up, Tim,” Martin muttered. As if his crush on his boss wasn’t bad enough, apparently it was also painfully obvious.

“You seriously need to get a better taste in men.”

“Yes, yes. And you need to cut me some slack,” Martin said. “It’s not my fault he’s pretty!”

“Who’s pretty?”

Martin’s face turned hot, and he knew he was beet red. Jon hovered in the doorway to his office, his own cheeks a bit flushed, though it’s possible Martin was just imagining that. He had a bit of a pout going, too, and Martin tried very hard not to look absolutely smitten.

“Oh look,” Tim sneered, “the hermit emerged from his lair for once.”

Now Jon was definitely blushing. “I-I leave all the time!”

“Yeah? When was the last time you actually went home instead of, oh y’know, taking a snooze at your desk, staking out your employees’ homes—”

“I’m not—!”

Tim stood up abruptly and sauntered off. “Fuck this noise,” he spat as he went. “I’m taking my lunch.”

Martin gulped and felt his face get impossibly hotter. His palms were quite slick all of a sudden.

Jon sighed. “I...Martin, have you seen Sasha lately?”

Oh good, a non-prying question. Just a totally mundane, normal thing for someone to ask. “Um...I think she’s still on her lunch, actually. Pretty sure she was meeting up with that new boyfriend of hers. Tom? I think?”

Jon nodded slowly, still looking off distantly at the door Tim had left through. It was rare to see him so openly upset. It was strange. “Right...well, when she um...when she gets back, could you let her know I need her follow-up notes on the Russo case?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied. He swallowed back a wave of anxiety. “Are um...are you okay? You seem a bit...off, today.”

Jon’s shoulders raised a bit with tension. “I’m fine,” he answered flatly. “I’ll be in my office.”

He turned and practically fled before Martin could get another word in. Martin sighed. Hopeless crush, indeed.

He didn’t see Jon again until later that night as he was preparing to leave. The faint glow of his office light cut through the dark Archives like butter. He frowned. It was—he checked his watch—half seven. Late for Martin, at any rate. Yet Jon was still holed up in there.

He breathed out slowly. If anyone could get him to go home, it was...probably him. At any rate, he felt like he was the only one who cared if he did nowadays. He knocked lightly and pushed the door in ever so slightly.

Jon was lying draped over his desk, arms held over his head protectively. He was shaking, and deep red marks covered the back of his neck. He was muttering something so quiet it was unintelligible.

Martin’s heart broke a bit, seeing him like that. He chewed on the inside of his cheek—a nasty habit, he knew—and knocked a bit louder.

Jon lurched out of his seat, a terrified shriek slipping out of his mouth so loud it seemed impossible to have come from him. He landed hard on the floor, limps splayed out, face pinched in shock and terror.

Without thinking, Martin rushed to his side and took hold of his arm, his other hand supporting his back. A seemingly endless stream of “oh my God I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you are you all right are you hurt oh God” flowed out of him as he pulled Jon into a sitting position.

Jon’s breath was panicked, coming in shallow gasps. Martin stared into his eyes, desperate for any clue as to what he should do. Jon’s eyes were distant and unfocused, and a bit watery. Very slowly, Martin began to rub circles into his back, moving his other hand to hold Jon’s in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

It took a few minutes, but Jon’s breathing eventually evened out. Martin watched his Adam’s apple bob with a swallow before he nodded at him to stop. He withdrew his hand from Jon’s back, but kept holding his hand with the other.

“I’m sorry, Jon,” Martin said. “I-I swear I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jon drew in a shaky breath. “I-it’s not your fault. Just um...the statement I read earlier really uh...it didn’t do good things to me.”

“Do...do you want to talk about it?”

He ripped at a few strands of his hair that had escaped from his bun. “It...no. No, I don’t.”

Martin gently clasped Jon’s other twitching, tearing hand and drew it away from his neck. “You’ve scratched the hell out of yourself,” he murmured. Blood spots and raised bruises coated the back of his neck.

Jon shuddered. “Kept feeling like...like there were s-spiders,” he rasped. “I couldn’t...I couldn’t stop myself.”

“There’s no spiders, Jon.”

“I know!” he spat. “I just- it itches and that Goddamn statement, it—” he sucked in a breath. “It’s because of my hair,” he muttered. “Just...little strands tickling the back of my neck, feelin like t-tiny legs and I just...I couldn’t stop.”

Martin sighed and brushed away some of the wayward strands, letting his palm sit over the back of Jon’s neck. He tensed in surprise, but quickly relaxed back, leaning into it.

“At this point, I should probably just cut it,” he said. “I just...can’t bring myself to do it.”

“I could braid it, if you’d like,” Martin said before registering that that’s what he was saying. His eyes widened with horror, and his face burned. “I-I mean- well, only if you want me to. I-I wouldn’t want to—”

“I think I’d like that, actually,” Jon murmured, averting his eyes. “It...it might help.”

Martin stared at him, genuinely shocked. “A-are you sure?”

“If the offer still stands, yes.”

He blinked. “R-right. Right. Um...well let’s at least get off the floor.”

“All right.”

Martin helped him to his feet. Jon still wouldn’t meet his gaze. It’s late, we’re probably the only ones still in the building, and he’s going to let me braid his hair. There was no way this could be happening. It was a prank, right? Or a dream?

Jon rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “Would the breakroom work best, do you think?”

“Probably, yeah,” Martin replied, trying to reel himself back in. This was fine; it was just like the times when he’d been living in Document Storage and Jon had stayed late to keep him company. This was fine. Everything was just fine.

He drifted out of the office after Jon, following him down the hall, into the breakroom. He was fine.

“Let’s um,” he started, “let’s wet it first, then I’ll braid it, okay? That way you um...you shouldn’t have any flyaways.”

“Sounds good,” Jon said. He sounded hesitant. Nervous.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

Jon nodded. “It’s...I know you won’t hurt me,” he said, strained.

“Of course I wouldn’t!”

“I-I know. That- that’s why it’s okay. I wouldn’t...I can’t trust anyone else.”

He bit his tongue. There were so many things he wanted to say—that he should say. How he was grateful Jon trusted him. How he was worried that Jon trusted only him. How he wanted to help him, and protect him, and hold him tight until he wasn’t afraid anymore.

How he wanted to love him. How he hoped Jon wanted him to love him.

But he didn’t say any of that, because it would take too many words, too many emotions, too many fears. Instead, he led Jon over to the sink and gently undid the ruined bun while the water heated to a decent temperature. Then, he reverently ran his fingers through Jon’s hair, just as he had wanted to for so long. Jon closed his eyes and sighed, leaning against him for support from the odd angle he had to be in to get his head in the sink. Definitely no other reason he would lean against him. None.

After a few moments, Martin shut the water off and wrung out the hair as best he could. Then he led Jon over to one of the seats before settling down behind him.

Jon was silent for a long while, making no noise even when Martin was sure he had just ripped out a hair or two by accident, or when he pulled a bit too hard on one of the cords. His shoulders actually relaxed, for the first time in a very, very long time.

“Thank you,” he murmured, sounding almost in a daze.

“Of course,” Martin replied, doing his best not to let his hands shake and praying the wetness on his hands was just water.

“I mean it! I…” He paused. “No one’s wanted to do this for me in a long time.”

Not for the first time, Martin was struck with the fact that he may well be Jon’s only friend. “All you have to do is ask,” he said.

Jon fell silent again for a few more beats. “The statement was about an experiment gone wrong,” he said. “One involving spiders.”

Martin worked through a stubborn knot. “Oh?” he asked softly.

“It...well...it hit a bit too close to home, I guess.”

“I’m sorry.”

“A-and as much as- as I hate them, I-I can’t stop once I’ve started reading a statement, no matter how revolted or terrified it makes me feel.” Jon gasped, his body trembling once more. “Like...like I have no control over my actions anymore. All I can do is read on.”

The knot finally gave way, and Martin continued threading the thick braid. “Like a puppet on a string,” he murmured.

Jon jolted up, whipping around to face him. “Exactly!” he cried. “A-and no matter what I do, I-I keep losing myself in them, and they’re awful, and- and—” He broke off, his eyes gaining that panicked glaze once again. Martin took his hands in his own, ignoring the fact that he was going to have to rebraid everything again. Jon needed him.

It took him another minute or two to calm back down. Then he closed his eyes and bowed his head. “I read a Leitner, once,” he said in a low voice. “It did the same thing to me.”

Martin felt his chest go tight with worry and fear. “What?”

“It...I couldn’t stop reading, and it made me move, walk toward...toward what was certain death. I’m only alive because someone took the book away from me.”

There were tears in his eyes. “And now the statements...it’s the same thing all over again. But...this time, I don’t know that anyone would be able to save me before it’s too late.”

Martin squeezed his hands tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t know.”

“No one would believe me,” Jon sniffed. “They’d think I was mad.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re different.”

Oh. He reached up and brushed away a tear from Jon’s cheek. “You know I’m here for you,” he murmured.

Jon brought his own hand up and held Martin’s against his face, taking a shuddering breath. “I know.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for caring.”

Martin moved closer and brought Jon’s head against his chest. Always, he thought. Always.

[infinitegalahad]

LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO

Summary: Eugene was always there to let you that you were beautiful.

Word-Count: 2.3k

Warnings: PLEASE!! READ!!! Trigger warnings for eating disorder, insecurity, and lots of angst. But there is going be lots of fluff and some self care from your’s truly!

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @easy-company-tradition @liebgotttme @50svibes @ricksmorty @pennyllanne @capsparkyspeirs

Notes: f! reader. uh oh...not not writing a self insert for my bulimia and eugene roe comforting me because my therapist told me to eat more (which totally solves all my problems)? Never! ;DDDD...enjoy!!

Masterlist | Request A Prompt!

Your stomach growled and twisted as you hunched over the toilet, tears spilling from your eyes as you forcefully threw up the mass amount of food you had just eaten. Every bite felt like you were eating copious amounts of a forbidden fruit. It was your favourite, and you used to love eating (y/f/f) all the time-but now, you would barely keep it down.

Soon after eating, the guilt began to overtake your body. It was hard to ignore it as the warm feeling in your throat began to rise. It felt tingly and you had only one remedy on how to make it better-running to the bathroom and sticking a finger down your throat: watching everything come out as deformed and clunky.

Saliva dropped from your noses as you began to wipe it as tears streamed down your flushed face. The pain wasn’t ending, and you knew another round was set to come.

When you're a little girl, you didn’t think much of your body or how you looked. Little girls, or no child for the matter should have had to worry about what they looked like. But as you got older, the social norms and your body began to change. Other girls around you were thin, while you felt indifferent. You were made fun of not looking “thin”, which triggered a whole set of emotions. And so you took comfort in food, since it was the only thing that never judged you.

And yet food would soon become your enemy. You learned how to befriend, and also stab it in the back. Your relationship with food has formed into a minute where you could tolerate them, and then the other you had to get it out of your system. After eating meals, it became a habit for you to do so. Some days, you could tolerate being around it. Others, you would barely see if for days-if not weeks.

Your thoughts were overtaken by a large gulp in your throat, which resulted in the food you had binged coming out. Tears came from your eyes as you cried. What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just be normal and pretty? Why was life so unfair to you?

You are so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice the bathroom door creak open and footsteps slowly approach your hunched figure. The pattern of the footsteps was already too familiar to you. Goosebumps went up your spine as you refused to look at him, embarrassed and guilted. Eugene was the last person you wanted to discover your monstrosity.

“Hey…” You managed to say, attempting to sound put together, which was the total opposite of what you currently where.

Eugene sunk down to your level and placed a hand on your back, rubbing small circles. Tears began to form at your eyes as you looked down, feeling it come again. Eugene grabbed your hair as you threw up, letting out a pained moan.

“I’m here, you’re okay,” Eugene cooed, letting you finish up. His soft accent was reassuring to you, but your heart rate increased. “Did it happen again?”

“Nothing is happening. I’m fine.” You lied, but knew that it was a shit lie and that Eugene was smart enough to see. He was your boyfriend and knew you better than anybody else did in the world-besides you.

“You’re not fine. Don’t lie to me, cher.”

You slowly move your head up to look at him. Eugene looks tired, and so do you. Your eyes are puffy from crying, cheeks red, lips quivering, goosebumps all over your skin, heavy breathing- a total mess. A pig is what you would refer to yourself as. The outfit you had worn today was too tight forming and showed off the parts of your body that you wanted the world not to see. You looked like a ugly rat in your eyes, the vision of a disfigured body clouding your vision.

Instead of using your words, you break down once again. Eugene is there to watch you, pulling you into him as you sob uncontrollably. You act like a child to its mother, clasping into Eugene for dear life as you stain his white shirt with tears. He doesn’t mind this since he loves you, and you know that. But how could he, someone so beautiful on the inside and out, be with someone like you-a slob? Eugene didn’t see you as any of the things you would describe yourself as, and you still couldn’t understand why he has chosen to stick around for four years (and counting).

“I’m sorry,” Is all you could cough through your tears. Eugene is running his hands up and down back, his fingers occasionally getting tangled in your hair as he straightens it out. He pulls you from his chest as he cups your face, tenderly pushing your loose hair behind your shoulders to get a better view of your pretty face.

Eugene caresses your cheeks, getting a feel of your soft (y/s/c). “No need to be. Jus’ wanna make sure your ok.”

“I’m not. I…” Letting out a frustrated sigh, the waterworks come back into play. Eugene, being the angel he is, stays quiet as his thumbs wipe the tears away. Gathering your words, you continue on, “I never have been. Look at me, I can’t control it. I don’t know what to do. I-“

“Hey, hey, hey. Your heart’s racin’, settle down.” Eugene reassured in a calming voice not to shut you up, but to calm you. Your skin is shaky and sweaty and your heart is banging against your ribcage. Eugene feels the guilt tug at his heart-he hates to see you in such a distressed state. “Let me help you. Here,”

Eugene slides his arms under your armpits and gently helps your up. Leading you to the living room, he places you on the couch as he runs to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water. He drops it out and pats you on the head before running back to the kitchen. You don’t want to drink, but Eugene would have a hissy fit if you didn’t. Reluctantly, you take a sip and swish it in your mouth before slowly gulping it.

Eugene returns a minute later with a cup of tea in his hand. He places in on the counter, putting a coaster under. Looking down, you can smell the sweetness. It’s your favourite; an orange spice with a dab of honey.

“Drink up ‘dat wata’ before you drink the tea. You’ll fell more refreshed after, and the tea will help with the dryness in your throat,” Eugene explained. He admired you as he placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing circles into them. As you drank your water, you forced a smile and put your hand on top of yours.

“Angé, I’m worried ‘bout you,” Eugene confessed, “You look sad, and when you’re sad-I’m sad.”

“Genie, please,” Is all you could mutter to say. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been dealing with this all my life. It’ll go away in a few hours, and I’ll be all smiles again. I promise.”

Eugene still feels guilty. He’s been around sister’s, older and younger to know what your problem is. The vomiting, the excuses, the insecurity, everything was adding up. What had saddened Eugene is that it was a lifelong issue, and it had gone untreated, and had progressively gotten worse.

“I don’t need you to force yourself to be happy. I want to help you ‘cause I love you, ma douce beauté.”

“But-“

Eugene placed a sweet kiss into your hair, “No. You stay ‘ere, docter’s orders. I’ll be right back.”

“Eugene-“

As he began to walk away, he turned around with a smile and pointed fingers. “What did I say?”

You put a finger down in defeat as you laid back, sipping on your tea. Hearing his footsteps fade into the bathroom and the water running, the tension from your shoulders disappeared as the sweet honey in the tea eased the frustration in your body. Doctor's orders, after all.

The sound of the water running in the opposite caused you to look up and see Eugene walking through the door. He came over at sat right beside you with open arms. Gene wasn’t vocal, but he was begging for your consent to hold you and comfort you. Scotting over, you slide into his arms and cuddle into his chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t want you to see that.” You mumbled into his chest, drawing little circles into them.

“No need to,” Eugene responded into your hair, planting a lingering kiss, “I just hate to see you feelin’ like ‘dis. You’re gorgeous-inside and out.”

“Gene-“

“No, ‘sha. You are.”

“But-“

A finger was placed on top your lips, slowly trailing down your chin as it was tilted up to look at Eugene. “You’ve got a great heart, soul, and body, ma petite fleur. Why can’t you see that?”

Growing frustrated, you removed Eugene’s hand and sat up, letting out a sigh. “You see something that I can’t see. I want to see it-but I can’t. I’ve never seen it, and when you say that...it just spins out of control.” Eugene sat next to see you, a hand on your thigh, listening to every word. You continued on, “I’m not trying to sound ungrateful but-you’re amazing for being my boyfriend through all of this. I know it’s not easy but...thank you.”

Eugene was the one who first knew about your eating disorder. When first meeting you, he was starstruck. Not only were you a beautiful person, but a beautiful soul. You were enchanting, and Eugene could listen to you talk for ages. But as time flew on, he became suspicious. Behind your smiles, something was terribly wrong. You would barley touch your food, wear looser clothing, say self deprecating jokes to the point where it seemed serious, and numerous concerning comments and actions. It caused Eugene to worry. He didn’t want to diagnose you officially, but he knew you had an earring disorder. So he did what Eugene knew he did best; comfort and beg you to take of yourself.

Babe Heffron, out of all the people, was the one who walked on you violently puking. He freaked out and ran to Eugene, which caused a whole shit show. From that day on, Eugene could no longer stand around and watch you hurt yourself. He made you get help, whether you liked it or not.

And it was the moment you realized that you were in love with him, and so did he.

Yes, you were getting proper help for your issues, but what was it truly helping? Your eating disorder would have food and bad days-and Eugene was always there. But the more he begged for you to eat, the more you couldn’t. One look at your body and it would trigger those horrid thoughts. You were so hungry, but you could barely eat.

“And The thing is-I’m trying to get better,” You responded as your voice cracked, “I see the therapist, I take the medication, I just…”

Seeing your shakiness, Eugene pulled you close and stroked your hair once again, whispering sweet words into your ear. “ ‘Dat’s all you can do, ‘cherie. I know you’re tryin’, you’re the bravest girl I know. I know I seem a lil’ pushy at times, and I’m sorry,” He paused before continuing, “I just worry bout you, a lot. But I need to know; what can I do that will help you? Beggin’ you to eat ain’t helpin. Montre-moi comment t'aider, ma petite colombe. Je veux enlever toute ta douleur.”

A smile curved on your cheeks as you nuzzled into his cheek, “No judgement?”

Eugene shook his head, eyeing for you to go.

Taking a second to think, you leaned back to look at your Cajun boyfriend with his pale skin and pretty dark hair.

“You’re you, I’m me. This path...is one I go down alone. You can hold my hand, but this path is mine to walk. This is my battle to fight. My recovery will take time and patience. I know I seem ungrateful, but I walk down this road alone. The only person that can fix this is me, and me alone.”

Eugene paid attention to the way your lips moved, seemingly understanding every word. Sure, it wasn't what he wanted. If he has this way, he would grab a magic wand and wish all your problems away, holding you close and protecting you from the evil’s of the world.

But even Eugene knew that the world was cruel, but a beautiful place. He couldn’t protect you from all the bad.

He showed you a subtle smile, “Ok.” He scooted closer to you, grabbing your hand, “On your bad days, can I ask you what you need from me? How can I support you? How can I do anything?”

“Yes, of course you can.” You shook your head. “You know how amazing you are, Eugene?”

“Says the amazing one. You’re so brave. My brave lady.” Eugene planted a kiss on your lips. It was gentle and soft, just like Eugene. He muttered small saying’s through the small gasps of air, such as how beautiful you were.

“Baby, promise me somethin’.”

“Yes, Genie?”

“Don’t lose sight of the importance your love has on every aspect of our life, especially you. Got me?”

“I got you, genie. Always and forever.”

Eugene lead you away from the couch and into your bathroom. Being the gentleman he was, he asked if you wanted any tea or drinks after your bath. The bath had overflown, the water dripping onto the white tiles as the noise of the water splashing into the tub ran. You noticed the candles lit all over the small bathroom and the magnolias he had picked from your garden, lying lazily on the water.

Eugene panicked, but you walked over and planted a quick kiss on your cheek. It was ok, you were okay-he was okay.

You both we’re gonna be okay.