#lemme poke some holes in the top so he can breathe

[infallicide]

“What? No nice boys?” “Who says it’s the boys? Maybe it’s me!” Hizashi pops the last bite of his pizza into his mouth and turns to you, knee against your thigh, arm still pillowing the back of your head. He looks over you and nods. “Not you.”

Relationship: Uncle! Hizashi x GN! reader Words: 2,232 Tags: Incest, creepy uncle, breeding

You’re alone on Valentine’s day. Your parents are out for the night, you’d chosen not to listen when they explained where they’d be, instead you denied the mental image and you’ve chosen to enjoy a movie on the couch in a big t-shirt and little shorts for comfort. You fumble with the idea of dinner, but a knock on the door digs you out of the menu on your phone. And on the other side, your uncle seems to have read your mind.

“Well hello there, kiddo!” he holds up a box and you can’t help but crack a smile, “your parents told me they left you here, I’m amazed you answered the door, I thought you’d be havin’ a fun little Valentine’s date of your own.”

“And you still came over?” you step back to leave him in, “gross, uncle 'Zashi.”

You laugh with him as he closes the door.

“Good uncles keep an eye out for their favourites! Can’t have someone treating you anything less than perfect!”

You roll your eyes, but it’s endearing. Hizashi has always been your favourite. Sometimes, your cousins questioned it, even friends had made comments about how he is with you, but it’s been so long, you never questioned it. Sure, he’s a little hands on, but it’s not creepy, he’s just affectionate! You settle beside him and he hands you a can of soda, but he gives himself away when he’s not wearing his sunglasses. His gaze is on your legs; it slides over them honey slow and he darts his tongue over his lips as if it’ll give him the smallest taste of sweetness.

“I’m not actually interrupting, am I? Hanging out in just a t-shirt sounds like good draw for a boyfriend.”

“Nah, the TV is my boyfriend.”

He thinks for a second, but you cut him off.

“Don’t say it.”

“Say what?”

“I don’t know, but do not.”

He howls with laughter and swings his arm across the back of the couch. The movie plays, and for a while, you simply eat in silence. Then Hizashi breaks it.

“Why don’t you have a date?”

You shrug.

“Don’t wanna.”

“What? No nice boys?”

“Who says it’s the boys? Maybe it’s me!”

Hizashi pops the last bite of his pizza into his mouth and turns to you, knee against your thigh, arm still pillowing the back of your head. He looks over you and nods.

“Not you.”

“What?”

“Look at you!”

“What?!”

He leans in, closer than is even usual for him.

“Look at you; you’re the prettiest little thing. Anyone who doesn’t see that is a fool.”

His hand rests on your knee a moment. A friendly gesture. Then it sneaks higher, higher, until the bottom of your t-shirt brushes against his fingers. Less friendly. Your face must give away your hesitation;

“Don’t tell me no one has touched you even like this!”

“No! I mean, yeah, they have but it’s…” your words trail. What is stopping you?

“You worried I’m gonna ruin anyone else for ya?” his smirk twists to one that’s just a little too cocky.

“N-no, just...you’re my uncle.”

“And who knows you better than I do?”

He has a point. When his fingers poke under your t-shirt this time, you don’t flinch as much.

“I can take care of you,” his head dips and rests against your shoulder, his lips only a hair’s breadth from your neck, “y’want me to be your Valentine, hmm?”

“I-I’m not sure…”

“You always gave me Valentine’s cards when you were a kid, what’s so different now?”

He cups your sex and you whine.

“A lot! I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t-” your sentence dissolves to another whine when he kisses your neck and presses his hand against you just a little more firmly.

“If you really want me to stop, I will,” he kisses a trail between his words, “but you didn’t even try to cover yourself after seeing your uncle at the door. You gonna tell me you don’t want me, huh?”

He pushes your underwear aside and presses a finger against your already wet hole.

“Oh, you were just waiting for this, huh? You’re as gross as I am, little bird; all ready for your uncle.”

Little bird. An old familiar nickname.

Before you can argue, his finger slips inside and his lips press to your neck again. You try to swallow your hushed moan, but it’s impossible; a second finger joins the first and he knows just how to move them. Your hands tangle in his hair, forcing it out of that looped half tie that’s always seemed so pretty, and he groans against your neck when you give it the smallest tug. But with it, he pulls away, and you wonder how that could be too far when he’s got two fingers inside you. They slip from your hole and he savours the taste for a moment before he turns, sitting normally, straight forward on the couch. Sickening drips of disappointment slide through you and you hate yourself for it. Until you realise he’s fumbling with the buttons of his jeans.

“On your knees; lemme give you another little present.”

You move before you can think. And from here, your uncle looks much bigger, like he did when you were a kid. He shuffles his jeans and underwear lower, and at last, his cock springs out and you swallow. You ignore your mind when it repeats that this is your uncle, this is wrong, this is sick. Instead, you lean forward without prompt from him, and lick a stripe up the pierced shaft of him.

“Oh ho ho, you’re a naughty one, aren’t you? You’ve been practicing, huh? For your uncle?”

You don’t answer. You suck the tip of him until he groans again, and descend on him like you’re starving for it. He hits your throat, and you hear the first words of an apology, a dismissal in case you can’t take it. But you cut him off as you swallow him a little deeper and look up at him as well as you can like this. Tears prickle and tease the corner of your eyes and when his hand cups your cheek, his thumb wipes it away.

“Fuck, little bird, you take it like a champ. Bet you’d let me fuck that little throat of yours until you couldn’t talk, wouldn’t you?”

You nod and his hips snap forward; a small taste of what that could be.

“I’ll take you up on that some other time, birdie. Come up here, sit on your uncle’s lap.”

You stand, legs shaky, but he stops you before actually sit on him. Sneaky fingers slip under your t-shirt again, and he pushes your underwear down your legs until it falls to the floor. It all feels so practiced, so planned. He has his hand on your hip again, and the thumb of the other hooks the front of your shirt and tugs so he can get a look.

“Pretty little thing,” he breathes out the words, “turn around, babe.”

You do, uncertain of his motives, but a hand on your back gives you just enough of a hint. You bend over, spread your legs, and with your hands on the coffee table, your hole is completely on display for him. Between your legs, you catch sight of his hand on his cock, fisting it in quick jerks while he stares. You look away, embarrassed, but there’s a sensation, unfamiliar and surprising, and you realise he’s pressing a sloppy kiss the same hole his fingers had spread.

“So fucking cute and sweeter than candy,” he murmurs before giving your rear a quick bite. His hands, massive on you, grab your hips again.

“Knees on the couch,” all politeness is dropped.

It’s awkward and you’re a little clumsy, but your knees are at either side of his thighs and you keep yourself steady with a grip on his knees. He pulls you down by the hips, slowly, slowly, until the head of him pokes against you.

“Point of no return, little bird.”

He’s offering you an out. It warms your heart, and your brain screams to take it, but your body has no interest in ignoring something so good and so freely given. You press your hips down, but he stops you.

“Turn. Sorry. I wanna see that pretty face when I fill you.”

Another quick shuffle and you’re on your knees, facing him this time, with your hands on the back of the couch to brace yourself.

“Oh you look good on top of me, sweetheart. Come on now, little lower,” you lower yourself, this time working with the tug of his grip and again, he pokes at your entrance. His tugging stops and you take the lead. Inch by splitting inch, you take him. His head falls back against the couch with each one, his jaw slacks, and his only words are a quiet “fuck” when your ass is against his thighs.

“Feels like you were made to take me,” he chuckles through the words. You know he doesn’t want to force you, but there’s a squeeze on your hips again.

You raise your hips and drop them and you’re met with a shuddering breath. His throat bobs as he swallows, but his eyebrows give away his feelings more than anything. Apology.

“I’m sorry, birdie, I can’t hold back anymore.”

He slams himself into you and you choke out a moan. You hoped your control would last, but he’s stronger, he’s faster, he’s more experienced, and most of all, he knows exactly what he wants from you. Thrust after thrust, the heat in your stomach grows, you squeeze around him when you can, you even sneak in a few kisses to his throat in retaliation for his earlier ones. But your moans have mingled in the air; they’ve brought forward fantasies and confessions and they’ve forced your arms around his shoulders and his arms around your waist and you’re nose to nose with him as he fucks into you like he’d die without it. Between moans and grunts, words slip out.

“Fuck, baby, yes !”

“No one else s’gonna touch you, no one, mine, say it, say you’re mine!”

“Love you so much, love you so much, say it, lemme hear it, w-wanna, I need it!”

All peppered with your name moaned in a tone you’d never expected from your uncle. He sees the blotches of blush, hears the change in your moans, and he knows what you need. He changes his angle just a little and with one hand, plays with your most sensitive spot, the one that makes your back arch and your voice high.

“That’s it, little birdie, you wanna cum for me? Yeah? You wanna cum all over me?”

You nod - it’s a frantic movement and your nails dig into where they meet his shoulders.

“Tell me.”

“Wanna cum all over you, please please!”

“Hmm…dunno if that’s good enough,” he chuckles and kisses your cheek, then his gaze fixes between your legs again. Once more without thinking, you cup his cheeks and you press your nose against his.

“Wanna cum all over you, please, I wanna feel your cum in me too, fuck, please, Uncle ‘Zashi,” you kiss him before he can respond, but the groan that rumbles through him is enough to know his answer.

His fingers move faster, his other hand moves to cup the back of your neck, all but crushing you against him while his tongue demands to tease yours, and his cock rubs you just so . All together, it’s too much, it’s too good, and you moan his name into his mouth as the heat from your stomach darts to your extremities and pleasure follows each ripple. His hips don’t slow for even a moment; the fingers that were against you leave(thankfully; it was becoming too much) and that arm wraps around you. You savour his grunts and huffs and moans mingled with the slap of skin on skin. You kiss his jaw, his neck, his earlobe, anywhere you can reach until his hips stutter and he’s so impossibly close but there’s something stopping him. And you know exactly what.

“You’re so close, come on, cum for me?”

He moans your name, you know he’s right there.

“Fill up your little birdie, please, uncle ‘Zashi.”

“Fuck!” his voice breaks and he whines as he pulls you right down against him as his cum fills you and you moan against his ear.

“Thank you thank you, oh my God , thank you, uncle ‘Zashi.”

Breathless, he rests his head against the back of the couch again, and when you stand, your legs are jelly.

“Where y’goin’, kiddo?” he asks with his gaze fixed on the thick globs of cum slipping down your thighs.

“Wanna get cleaned up.”

His face drops for a moment, but you hold out your hand.

“Come with me?”

He stands so fast, he almost falls and you laugh at him.

The consequences can wait. You’re going to enjoy every sordid moment you can until the sun comes up.

He wraps around you in the shower and his fingers play over your skin under the guise of cleaning you. And corny as it is, he presses a kiss to your cheek and whispers "happy Valentine's day, little birdie."

[thiswasinevitableid]

29 for indruck nsfw? i am already amused thinking about what sport either of them would play

Here you go!

29. I’m a professional athlete and I just fired my personal assistant and my manager sent you over but you don’t even know what sport I play or who my team is

When you’re in an aggressive profession it’s best, in Duck’s experience, to be as calm and friendly as you can the rest of the time.

But this whole shit-show is testing his fucking limits.

It’s been two days since he found out his perfectly fine P.A was working for the Wallstreet Journal, hoping to learn that Duck was somehow using his T or his identity to gain an unfair edge in matched. Ned fired him on the spot, thank god, but it took less than twelve hours for the guy to publish some fabricated piece on his attitude and for Duck to remember why he needed an assistant in the first place. He’s gotten so used to having one that he keeps forgetting stuff or dropping the ball on appointments, and the last thing he needs right now is to look like some stupid hick.

When Ned texts him to let him know his new P.A is en route, Duck groans “thank fuck” loud enough to startle the cat from her tree.

He goes to the door when someone knocks, but doesn’t open it.

“Who is it?”

“Indrid Cold? I, ah, Mr. Chicane said this was Duck Newton’s address and I’m supposed to start as his assistant tomorrow.”

Duck opens the door, “Fuck tomorrow, you’re startin today. I gotta focus on strategy with Minerva the next two days if I don’t wanna show my ass Friday night and it’s real fuckin hard to do that with people callin me left and right.” He guides the startled young man inside, then stops to take a deep breath, “sorry, lemme try that again” he holds out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Indrid.”

“Likewise, Mr. Newton.”

“Duck is fine. It’s a nickname. You bring your stuff with you?”

“Yes, it’s all in my car.”

“Good. Here, lemme give you the, uh, the grand tour, so to speak, on the way to your part of the place.”

Indrid smiles and nods, hanging back slightly as Duck leads him through the house. They cover the living room, kitchen, Duck’s bedroom, then come what was once the garage door.

“This here’s the gym; you can’t find me in the rest of the house, I’m probably here.”

“Goodness” The other man’s eyes widen behind his red glasses, “that’s an impressive array. I mean, I know professional athletes need to train but I, ah, I assumed you did it on site with the rest of your team.”

“Team?” Duck closes the door, spots Indrid’s fingers diving into his pockets to hide their twitching.

“Yes.”

“Which team?”

“Your...sports team?”

“....you got no fuckin clue who I am, do you?”

“No.” Narrow shoulders sag in his sweater.

Duck chuckles, “Figures.”

The silver haired head snaps back up, “Mr. Chicane didn’t say it was a prerequisite for hiring me.”

“Guess he didn’t. And I guess it ain’t. Just hoped they’d hire someone who knew what the fuck he was gettin into.”

Indrid crosses his arms, “They gave me a very thorough job description. I assure you I can do every part of it. Laying out your pre-workout and scheduling appearances isn’t rocket science, and it doesn’t matter if the dry cleaning I pick up is for a, a baseball after party or some sort of charity basketball fundraiser.” It dawns on the taller man that he’s just snapped at his boss. He contracts in on himself, staring down at his black converse.

Duck takes the chance for a more careful look; all of his clothes are second hand, chosen as if he’s cosplaying a jock who went into white collar work. There are piercing holes in his ears, flecks of silver polish on his nails. This job application was a hail mary and Ned Chicane went ahead and caught.

“No harm done, slim.” He rests a friendly hand on Indrid’s arm, “think it’s time I enlightened you.”

His office doesn’t get used much, so a sprinkling of dust greets them as he flips on the lights and reveals posters, magazine covers, and newspaper clips bearing Duck’s face. The gloves he used to win his first fight hang in a place of honor, right above the photo of him and the other fighters from Amnesty Boxing. It’s an older photo, taken the first time they sent a team out of state, sun-faded to the point the writing on it is disappearing. It makes him smile all the same.

“This does explain the set of instructions for helping you cut weight if needed.” Indrid takes in the posters, then turns his attention to the corner dedicated to Duck’s model ship collection. He cocks his head, says more to himself than Duck, “boxer. Interesting.”

“Were you just gonna bluff about knowin who I was until I said somethin?”

“That and look for clues in the rest of the house.”

He smiles, “Like a man with a plan b. C’mon, lemme show you your room.”

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

Alright, so Indrid should have researched Duck Newton before turning up at his house so he didn’t come across as ignorant and unprepared. But he was busy running every Taskrabbit and UberEat he could get just to scrape up enough to keep his landlord off his back. Sue him for not wanting to sleep in his car again.

He never expected to get this job; live-in P.A who doesn’t have to pay for groceries (buy them, yes, since that’s one of his jobs) is not the kind of luck he’s familiar with. He keeps waiting for the catch, so nervous that when Duck pops in on him unpacking he assumes he’ll scold him for his wardrobe.

“I, should I buy some more professional clothes?”

Duck takes in the two duffle bags and backpack, “Up to you. I don’t mind you lookin like the little art punk you are, but a dress shirt or two might help if we gotta go somewhere real upscale. Don't worry about buyin it yourself; just use the same card we do for groceries.”

Indrid is still hung up on why the fact a man three inches shorter than him calling him “little” makes his chest burn. Luckily, the phone rings and distracts him. Then it rings again. And again. And again. All while the inbox doubles every time he looks at it.

This turns out to be the catch; the work is actually hard. Everyone and their uncle wants to interview Duck, get him to sponsor something, or proposition him. Four hours in, he’s overwhelmed, overstimulated, and ready to hide under the desk. His fidget necklace isn’t helping, so he pulls out his chewable one; it often helps him think in high pressure moments.

The phone rings again and he growls at it.

“You’re allowed to let things go to voicemail, y’know.”

He spins in his chair, black rubber moth still in his mouth. Duck leans in the doorway, tank top soaked in sweat and towel around his shoulders

“I, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to drop anything important.”

“Ned handles the fights and the money, and anyone I care about has my private number for emergencies.”

“Right. I knew that.” Indrid can’t have his boss thinking he’s a total space-case.

Duck smiles, “What I’m sayin is; ain’t the end of the world if you don’t get back to everyone right away. Besides, right now you need a lunch break, slim. Lemme go rinse off and I’ll join you.”

By the time Duck enters the kitchen in an old “NIN” shirt and jeans, Indrid has his protein bowl laid out for him and is finishing microwaving a hot pocket for himself. Before he can scurry away, Duck pats the seat beside him and Indrid sits down, preparin to politely listen to Duck talk about himself or his sport.

He talks for ten minutes about the trees he saw on his run that morning before asking Indrid what he did before coming to the house. Indrid explains about his art and his side hustles in tarot and palm reading, about the run of bad luck that saw him without roommates and lost him his steady gig at a coffee shop. Duck makes genuinely sympathetic noises, lets Indrid change the subject when the fact he was on the edge of disaster makes Indrid’s chest tighten. They’re still talking about music as Indrid returns to his desk and Duck goes to meet Minerva in the gym.

By the time Duck’s fight rolls around that weekend, Indrid is feeling much better. He has a system of sorting emails that works for him, some mothman stickers to help him organize the paper calendar on his desk, and more confidence in his ability to spot callers with ulterior motives. He’s shut down two separate ones looking to trap Duck into interviews where he’d be forced to defend his very identity. Duck overheard his responses to the second one and brought him back a fancy creme brulee latte from his breakfast as a thank you.

He doesn’t go to the fight; it’s a small one for charity and Duck has Ned to manage him, Minerva to train him, and Leo to coach him ringside. He doesn’t need his P.A. Instead, Indrid finishes up his correspondence for the day, makes sure Duck’s breakfast is all set in the fridge, and confirms the masseuse is coming in the morning.

Once in bed, Indrid gets sucked into the commission he’s doing and is lost to the world until a tired, satisfied face pokes through his door.

“Oh! Hello Duck. Did it go well? Do, ah, is there something you need from me?”

“Yep, I won like I thought I would. And nope; was just poppin in to say goodnight.”

No one’s said that to him in a long time. The bitterness of that realization is sweetened by Duck’s smile.

“Goodnight to you too, Duck.”

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

Minerva is sick, which wouldn’t be a problem except for one part of his workout. He could skip it, but he needs to keep everything sharp for when they go to L.A.

“‘Drid? You got a few minutes?”

His assistant appears in the doorway, black jeans and white “Cramps” tank-top fitting him in a way that makes Duck want to hold him face down on the floor and find out how to take his breath away.

“What do you need?”

Duck points to the heavy bag, “You up for bracin this while I hit it?”

“I...I am not as strong as Minerva.”

“You don’t gotta be; this is just to keep the damn thing from swinging while I’m doin this speed drill.”

“Alright.” Indrid takes off his glasses and sets them on the folding chair, joining Duck, “how do I hold it?”

Duck shows him, does a few test punches to make sure he won’t send the poor guy flying. The round clock dings green, and he’s off. The bag wobbles for the first few seconds, then Indrid seems to find his footing and holds it stable enough for the drill to work. When the round ends, Duck steps baack, “okay, you can let go until the next round.”

“Goodness.” Indrid stretches his hands, “I feel for your opponents. I’m jarred just from that.”

“You need to stop? I got two more rounds at least, but if it’s hurtin you I caan skip ‘em.”

Indrid shakes his head, smiling, “nono, I like helping you with this. It’s exhilarating.”

The bell dings.

“Glad to hear it. Now brace it again.”

By the end of round three, Indrid is panting loud enough for Duck to hear him over the fan. He looks up, glove still on the bag, and finds them face to face.

“Minerva said three to five rounds for this. You wanna keep goin?”

Indrid, breathless and grinning, nods, “Can’t have you slacking off, now can we?”

Duck wants to bite his lip, just to see what happens. Blames the thought on the adrenaline. Then discovers the exact same thought waiting for him when Indrid, cleaned and in his most respectable clothes, joins him in the car to go to an interview.

Ned gave the P.A a list of likely questions, so they practice those as they creep across the Bay Bridge. But Duck notices that on both the trip there and back, whenever there’s a lull in conversation Indrid is on his phone reading about boxing. Duck knows the other man fixates on topics that interest him; knowing one of Duck’s passions has earned that distinction makes him smile.

After that, he starts inviting Indrid to watch him train, or shares his thoughts about matches with him. That’s all it takes for Indrid to start drawing him into long, animated conversations about his sport. When Indrid asks why there’s such debate over the proper way to wrap hands and also how does Duck do his, Duck demonstrates.

“Here, ‘Drid, now you try it on me.”

The P.A moves the wraps slowly, deliberately, moving Duck’s hand like it’s a priceless treasure he’s readying for transport. Every time he bites his lip in concentration or brushes hair from his forehead, Duck has to remind himself to breathe.

“Done.” Indrid is still holding his left hand, “Did I do well?”

The boxer tests the wraps, wiggles his fingers and clenches his fists. Then he squeezes Indrid’s hand, “you did perfect, slim.”

Duck can wrap his hands in his sleep. But whenever he’s home, he finds Indrid and asks him to do the honors. Indrid does them every time. Perfectly.

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

Indrid stands in the green room with Ned and a cluster of arena employees. The roaring crowd a few walls away echoes through the screen. He’s never seen Duck fight, but this event required all hands on deck to handle P.R, scheduling, and making sure Duck had what he needed to win.

Duck and his opponent enter the ring. Touch gloves.

Indrid’s pulse climbs.

Then the bell sounds and no useful noises come through the T.V. Just the announcers shouting and being drowned out by the crowd. Indrid gives up on parsing the cacophony, focus only on Duck. He’s seen him practice, but in a true match he’s a different beast. His opponent is faster, that much is clear, but Duck is patient, steady, blocks and weaves until he can land blows that make Indrid hurt just watching them.

Duck is magnificent like this. Indrid has to draw him like this, has to capture this and keep it forever, he has to, he has…

He has a hard-on in the middle of the green room.

He sticks it out long enough to see Duck win and then bolts to the bathroom so it can be taken care of by the time the boxer is done with the post-fight interviews.

They go out to celebrate, and Duck never nudges Indrid aside to let someone more important sit next to him. And as the drive to the hotel, he nods off with his head on Indrid’s shoulder.

It only gets worse after that.

Duck will coax him into joining him for a run with the promise of a fancy breakfast. On cheat days, Duck orders food to the house or takes Indrid out to lunch, and somehow the thing he wants when not focused on macros is always the thing Indrid mentioned he’d been craving. He invites Indrid on hikes with him, starts taking him to all his events even though he seldom needs help or herding at them (“yeah, but it’s nice to have someone to crack jokes with”). And on days when Indrid needs to be alone, or wants to see other friends, Duck simply smiles and closes the door.

The most dangerous days are the ones without anything on the schedule. Then it’s all too easy for Indrid to pretend that they’re something they’re not while he draws at the table across from where Duck is building his model ship. Too easy to imagine that the water-wise garden Duck tends is something he put into their house, not his house that Indrid happens to live in. Too easy to admit that Indrid wants to look after him for no payment except being looked after in return.

Duck reciprocating his feelings is within the realm of possibility. Indrid’s caught him staring when he walks in on the P.A doing yoga, and the casual touches long ago made the leap from accidental to deliberate. He also knows that Duck can’t fire him--only Ned can--and hopes that might lead to the boxer slinging him over his shoulder and tossing him on the bed one of these days.

There’s also the tabloid site circulating a photo of them with a caption claiming he’s Duck’s “boytoy” in spite of them only being two years apart. They’re not even sitting that close in the picture; Duck’s just smiling at him like he’s the only thing in the world, that’s all.

Currently, he’s having an easier time keeping his feelings buried because--ever since they landed in Vegas-- Duck has been a dick the rest of the day. Well, as much as a dick as he can be; his offenses are mainly snapping at people and lacking his usual patience.

When he scolds Indrid over something silly in the hotel that night, Indrid turns and stares at him over his glasses.

“Duck, what’s wrong?”

“Wh-uh, fuck, nothing, why do you, uh, fuck, I’m fine.”

“You just snapped at me in a way that was completely uncalled for.” He crosses his arms, “is it the fight? I know it’s a big one but that’s no reason to be rude.”

Duck scratches the back of his neck, “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“I swear I won’t. Or, if I do, it will be after you leave.”

That gets a smile, “I’m uh, well, I’m what you’d call ‘horny as all fuckin get out.’”

Indrid’s immediate thoughts would solve the problem at hand while creating a new and far worse set, so he keeps them to himself and replies, “If need privacy, I can come back later and hold all your calls.”

“Nah.” Duck sits on the bed, “You’re not supposed to get off before a fight. Makes you too relaxed.”

“That strikes me as an old wives tale. Old boxers tale?”

“Either way, it’s one Minerva still believes. If I lose, she will ask about every possible cause, includin that one. Better if I just cat nap before I start all my pre-match stuff. Come get me in fort minutes?”

“Of course.” Indrid waves and closes the door before he offers to lay down in the hopes of Duck having a wet dream while holding him.

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

Duck wins, though it’s a tough battle to get there. He fucking hates these Pay-Per-View fights, they try to make it sound like he’s got beef with the other guy. In reality, once he’s down from a knockout, Duck is the one who helps him to the other side of the ring.

There’s a flurry of press afterwards, of questions and congratulations while all he wants to do is shower. He gets clean, promises Ned they can all go out to celebrate later. As he and Indrid finally escape to his suite he’s forced to admit that--if the thoughts of hitting the “fire” button and fucking Indrid against the wall are any indication--his problem from earlier hasn’t gone away.

“Do you need me to see if I can get a masseuse up here? You look very stiff.”

“Just uh, just tense.” Why did he tell Indrid he liked those jeans on him? He’s worn them as often as he can since.

Indrid cocks an eyebrow, “Still pent up even though the fighting is done?”

“Yep.”

The P.A shakes his head, hiding a smirk, “Do you need me to find something for you to watch?”

“No.”

“I mean it, this place has all the good channels.” He’s so earnest, picking up the channel guide like it, rather than those fucking jeans and shirt with Duck’s name on it, has what Duck needs.

“No.” He growls.

Indrid sighs, sets the book back down, “This mood is annoying us both, so just tell me what kind of porn you want and I can go out and buy it.”

“Unless they got somethin called ‘boxer jackhammers skinny artist until he cries’ we’re gonna be shit out of luck!”

The P.A blinks, “Duck, this is Vegas, I can probably find that. Or look for it on your laptop…” he trails off when their eyes meet. Duck knows he must look like he’s ready to jump him. Indrid licks his lips, “Duck? What, ah, what exactly lead to this situation?”

“You really wanna know, slim?” Duck steps across the carpet, notices Indrid padding over the black and blue patterns to meet him.

“Yes.”

Duck removes Indrid’s glasses, “Had a dream about you while I was on the plane. Woke up havin just finished fuckin you open. First thing I thought was “no big deal, ‘Drid’s right here. We can do the real thing once we get to the hotel.’ Then I fuckin remembered that we couldn’t, and I know for damn sure that if I jerk off I won’t feel satisfied because you’re be over there” he jabs his thumb at the door connecting their rooms, “so close and completely outta my reach.”

“So keep me right here instead.” Indrid purrs, fingers tentatively finding Duck’s hips. The light contact splinters his self-control and he practically tackles Indrid onto the bed, kissing him as the taller man moans and paws at his clothes.

The kiss takes the heat off enough to clear the steam fogging up his head and sits up, “This really okay?”

“I would have said if it wasn’t now for goodness sake please get back down here.” Indrid yanks him forward by the front of his shirt, smashing their lips together. He’s humming and sighing every time Duck touches him, rolling his hips to display a quickly forming hard-on.

“Aw, sugar, you gettin excited just from kissin’?” Duck grinds down just to see him gasp.

“Y-yes. I, Duck, I’ve wanted this for months.”

The implication of those words slam his desire into overdrive, “You sneaky little thing, that why you kept runnin around in tight clothes?”

“Most of my clothes h-hang off me.” Indrid holds tight to Duck’s thighs as the boxer strips his shirt off, “but yes I, I did start wearing what you liked more often.”

“Ain’t that thoughtful. And what were you hoping would happen, slim?” Duck yanks his sweats off and kicks them to the floor.

“This.” Indrid’s eyes keep slipping down to stare at Duck’s dick.

The boxer strokes himself lazily, “like what you see?”

“So much.”

“Then how about a closer look, sugar?” He crawls up Indrid’s body to straddle his face. It looks even better than normal framed by his thighs.

“Do I get to touch too?”

Duck guides his hands onto his ass, “As much as you want. You gonna be sweet and let me fuck your face, or am I gonna have to hold your mouth open?”

Indrid opens his mouth instantly, a whimper creeping out of it as Duck strokes his hair. The sound morphs into a louder, but muffled, moan when Duck sinks down. He teases his dick against Indrid’s lips, drags slick across his chin, feels his jaw tremble with wanting to close. Duck shifts so his dick touches Indrid’s tongue, “get to it. Oh fuck” he braces a hand on the wall, “heh, didn’t know Ned screened for cocksuckin skills.”

Indrid shakes his head, brown eyes wide as Duck roughly rides his face.

“No? He didn’t make you demonstrate on some of the other fighters? Didn’t make sure you could make a whole gym cum to prove your mouth was good enough for me?”

“‘O” Indrid shakes his head again, silver strands sticking to the pillow as he kneads Duck’s ass in a way that makes him groan.

“Too bad for them. Because now they ain’t ever gonna get a chance.”

A whimper and write of the torso; Duck glances over his shoulder to watch Indrid buck his hips in the air, pre-cum clear on his crotch. His feet, still in their shoes, point and flex as he moans around Duck’s dick.

“You like that, don’t you sugar?” He threads both hands into Indrid’s hair, pinning his head down or pulling it closer as it suits him, all the while gently rubbing his scalp “like knowin’ that you’re doin well.”

A harder suck in reply.

“Then be a good little cocksucker and make me cum.” He holds his head down and let’s loose, grinding and grunting in pursuit of the heat that starts at Indrid’s tongue and is steadily curling up into Duck’s belly. The other man holds him tight, moaning and licknig and sucking until Duck cums on his mouth, the lasts bursts of it happening against a slackening jaw.

As soon as his legs cooperate, he climbs off and guides Indrid to sit up in his arms. His attempt to check on the other man is interrupted by a frantic kiss.

“I was gonna ask if you wanna keep goin’, but I think I got my answer.”

“Yes, I mean no, I mean please don’t stop yet. Please I, we can do whatever you like, we can do just this, you can drag me out on the balcony and fuck me in full view of the city-”

“Easy, slim, easy.” Duck cups his cheek, “let’s start with somethin simple. Get naked and get comfy on your back for me. I gotta go grab somethin from down the hall.”

His memory turns out to be spot on; the vending machine on this floor has toiletries, including condoms and a travel bottle of lube. He buys ten of one and three of the other, drops them in the pockets of his robe and hurries back to Indrid. Sprawled on the bed, he looks painfully vulnerable, like someone who got used to life kicking him and telling him to stay down.

It’ll be different when they’re together, Duck can promise that much.

“Seem to recall you wanting me to keep you here.” He grabs a handwrap, holds it where Indrid can see, “how do you feel about me usin this?”

“Extremely good. Oh, oh hello.” He laughs when Duck rolls down beside him to pepper his face with kisses. The process of trapping his hands to the headboard is prolonged thanks to their mutual need to keep kissing every five seconds.

“Now” Duck kisses his shoulder, “I didn’t bring any toys to fuck you with, so it’s just gonna be my hand.”

“You say that as if it’s a disappointment to me and not incredibly sexy.”

“Some folks don’t think you’re fuckin ‘em unless you use somethin dick-shaped.” Duck shrugs with a flicker of sadness from the last time he had that conversation.

“Tell me who insulted your body or your skills in bed and I shall stand outside their window with a megaphone informing them of how terrible their manners are and how they missed out on the finest man in the world.”

“That’d be funny” Duck leisurely kisses his belly and hips before sitting up, “but you’d have to get outta bed.”

“True. Ah well, a sternly worded email will have do OOOh, oohhhyes.” He wiggles his hips as Duck presses in the first finger, relaxing under his touch.

“Get the feelin you’ve done this before”

“Yes.” Indrid’s chest is flushed and Duck reaches up his free hand to play with his nipples.

“What’s the most you’ve taken?”

“Th-three, I believe. I, ah, I’m usually facing away so I sometimes lose track.”

“You're takin four tonight. Can’t believe anyone would wanna miss out on how you look when you’re getting fucked.” He teases the second finger to prove his point and Indrid’s mouth curves with bliss.

“My ass is many people’s type; my face not so much.”

“Fuck that.” Duck pushes the second finger in. Indrid arches, then sighs as Duck keeps working him open.

“I find it difficult to care what they thought right now. I, ahhhn, it’s much more fun to think about you.”

“About me…?”

“About right you’re doing right now and, AH, what we can do next. I do so want to sit in your lap in the hot tub back home.”

“Can manage that. What else?”

“I’d very much l-like to fuck you, however you’ll let me and, and I want us to do it right after you train some day, you look so good like thatAHgod.” The third finger is in and Indrid is now steadily pushing down on them, “and one of the times you get me to run with you I expect a blow job in reward oh, ohfuck” his eyes are wild and eager, “please do the last one, I’m ready, I want it so badly, please.”

Duck begins teasing the fourth finger, “Think all those wants of yours sound real good. You wanna know mine?”

“Absolutely. AHaahnnnahgod” The wrap tightens as Indrid clings to it, trying to stabilize himself as Duck fucks his hand into him hard.

“Soon as we get home, I’m gettin the strap-on and fuckin you for a solid hour at least. Gonna leave you so fuckin raw and relaxed you won’t wanna do anything but lay there, and you’ll goddamn get to because you’re mine and I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Duck” it’s a happy sob, Indrid’s cock bobbing in the air.

“Gonna take a trip somewhere private, just the two of us, and you’re gonna spend the whole fuckin time tied up, to the bed, a chair, whatever the fuck else I feel like so I can ride your dick whenever I want.”

“Yes.” Indrid is barely getting out words between his cries.

“And the next time you have the fuckin nerve to wear tight jeans the day I gotta fight, I’m gonna shove a vibration plug up that cute little ass and lock your cock in a cage so we can both be horny without bein able to get off.”

“Duck please, I’m close, please touch-”

He wraps his fingers around Indrid’s dick and works him over hard and fast, “Soon as I’m done with that fight, you’re gonna blow me in the locker room so I can focus on nailin your ass into next week when we get--ohfuck!” Cum hits his chin as Indrid gasps and squeaks, scratching at the wraps and the headboard.

If Duck ever loses his memory, he hopes this is the last moment to go; Indrid Cold, happy, safe, and satisfied while he moans Duck’s name.

Indrid is boneless as Duck undoes the bonds, though he rallies enough to pull the boxer into a hug so he can cuddle him like a teddy bear. He kisses his throat, feels his pulse even out beneath his lips.

“Duck? Does, ah, does this mean what I think it does?”

The phone rings right as he’s about to answer. It’s probably Ned, so he holds up a finger and grabs the receiver.

“Go for Duck. Yeah, yeah that’ll be fine” he nods as Ned explains the plan for their exclusive, late night dinner, “yeah, tell ‘em five; you, Minerva, Leo, me and” he winks at a beaming Indrid, “my boyfriend.”

[ku-ro-kai]

Darling, you’re different

Woke up in the middle of night thinking about dabi as a plug yesterday, wrote a fanfic about it during my entire day at school

edit made by me : )

Your usual plug wasn’t responding,using excuses to go pick up his kids or his baby mother was giving him a hard time. This was the time to be looking for a new plug for sure but how the fuck are you supposed to find one in the first place,camie was your best friend who smoked weed and was a blonde bimbo, she invited you over to smoke with her and offer you a new plug

“You made it! Come smoke a dub with me right quick then we’re gonna go meet him okay” she pulled you into her car

Camie was holding your hand walking through apartment complexs "your sure you know where this guy is?" " of course, he's been my plug for 3 years, he hot too" she stopped at a door and knocked "ever fucked him?" the door opened to a Raven haired man littered in tattoos, piercings ranging to black to silver, gray sweatpants hanging from his waist and a black T-shirt."You brought me a new client" she wasn't lying about him being hot.

His place was pretty tidy for a drug dealer "you can call me dabi by the way, camie gave you my number yet?" his eyes were like pools, you didn't have the guys to look him in the eyes "no" you said in a soft tone, he reached his hand "lemme see your phone for a second baby" you handed it to him "remember my apartment number is 306,don't forget because I'm only telling you once" "yes sir" he looked at you handing you back your phone "you don't have to hit me with that formal shit babe" "sorry,right" he chuckled walking to a hallway "camie come to the back with me" camie grabbed her bag walking to the back but she peaked her head out "I'll be right out, wait in the car for me".

"How long is it gonna take her to get some weed!" after that you heard a knock to the window "what the fuck!" dabi waved with a shit eating smile "fuck you!" ,you saw camie unlock the doors as she she was limping over "scoot over" dabi picked you by your waist and got in the passenger seat "dabi,what the hell are you doing" " what does it look like, gotta go to work" "yeah I see that but not with me on top of you, we might get pulled over" he slapped your shoulders pulling you back on his chest" not if you sit up like that, just enjoy the car ride for a few" you tried to get out of his arms but he was way stronger than you thought "come on camie back me up!" she put the keys in the ignition "he job is right around the corner (name) , trust me you'll be fine" you just relaxed in his hold. "Why are you so warm"

You shuffled neck to side of his shoulder "hot box" he didn't really smell like weed, more like ashes and feminine perfume "you smell weird" he bit your earlobe "pretty rude for someone who couldn't even look me in the eyes" you felt embarrassed, you just stayed quiet the entire time.

"See you next time,Blondie and you again?" you tried to ignore him but you spit out "(name)" he pulled your ear "how about sugar tits since you have-" "hell no!" camie leaned forward waving "bye dabi!" he stuck his tongue out, he had three piercings going in a straight line"you like what you see" you smiled rolling up your window "no".

"Hey you ever get the weed?" camie turned to you "of course but I didn't come for just the weed" she winked at you, you connected the dots in your head "you pay him with sex!?" "hear me out, free weed, good dick, hot boy blows my back out what's not to like?" you just rolled your eyes at her"let's just spark up before you go home"

-Next day-

Camie was too busy hungover from all the alcohol she decided to drink when she got home so you just did this on your own, can't be that hard can it?

____

You : hey

Dabi: what is it sugar tits

You : how much for a gram and stop calling me that

Dabi: A 20 and no ;)

You: fine,I'll be over

____

You knocked on the door twice, before you could pull out your money he dragged you inside "the hell?" catching yourself from stumbling over the mat "I was in the middle of rolling up" he was naked and wet, you could see his tattoos covered in certain areas,his stomach,his v-line,even his legs, only thing covering him was a black towel "put some clothes on first" "last time I checked it's my house so walking around naked shouldn't be your little concern babe" you were always annoyed by this asshole, how can camie do it. You looked in your bag twice, still couldn't see it, dumped out all belongings, nowhere to be found "where's the money?" dabi spoke walking in with some jeans on but still shirtless also he was holding a plastic wrap bag of weed, you let out a soft breath of air "I lost my wallet" he just stared at with bored eyes before busting out laughing "your being dead serious aren't you!" he rubbed his hand through his hair "look I'm sorry for wasting your time dabi, can I just pay you back next time " he shook his head throwing you the bag of weed "this is on the house except for one favor" "I'm not fucking you" the expression painted on your face let you knew exactly what he wanted "damn your good at reading people or what" "camie told me she pays you with sex so she can get free weed, don't lie either she was limping when she walked out your apartment" he smiled leaning against the wall next to the hallway "how do you expect to get it free then? Paying for it tomorrow isn't gonna cover how much I put in the bag for you sugar tits" she he was right this was way more than a gram" so what's it gonna be, you leaving empty handed or limping with weed in hand".

You heard a lighter flash on and off "you on a pill or something because I don't like pulling out" he was sitting on the couch smoking the blunt he just rolled a couple minutes ago "yeah,I have some at my house" he started unzipping his pants "come here" you walked off undressing yourself but keeping your shirt on "it's you hiding your tits for me" he pats his thigh signalling you to sit on his lap. "Open" "what?" "your mouth sugar tits" you slowly opened your mouth, he took two fingers shoving them down your throat "your not wet enough for me"he finally took his fingers out of your mouth "why do you say that.." "I'm to big and definitely haven't been stretched out, piercings might rip a new hole in you" piercings? He reached down taking off your panties in one tug,he turned you facing his wall with you against his back "what your last dude's dick size" that is really personal "A 6 I think" he opened your folds looking at some slickness beginning to gather "did he make you cum?" "no" he showed you a bright grin, placing a thumb on your clit, rubbing circles into it "a clit piercing would look good on you" he left a kiss on your cheek. "Your ready" dabi turned you back around facing him,"hold this for me baby" he pushed his blunt between your lips, he pulled his pants down by his ankles, there was ball piercings going down his length.

You held on to his shoulder for comfort, your walls weren't used to this feeling however dabi wasn't moving, too busy taking small puffs from his blunt with his head leaned back into the sofa "your a great cockwarmer sugar tits" he lifted his head back up "ever shotgun?" "No?" he grabbed you by your shirt pulling you into a kiss, you inhaled the smoke up your nostrils "your a good kisser" dabi gripped your ass, the friction of the piercings against your walls had you clenching down every thrust, dabi had no true goal besides aiming for that special spot, this position at any rate wasn't gonna him nowhere close though.In the meantime you were leaving small moans here and there, you didn't wanna give dabi that satisfaction of making you cum so easily, suddenly dabi got up off the couch immediately turning toward the couch, you could feel his cock poking your ass,eventually he pulled both your arms,sinking back into your velvet walls.

Dabi forced your face into the plushy part of the leather couch,although you promised yourself to contain your moans, dabi was ruthlessly rutting himself into you,he was progressively becoming more rough with his thrusts, your eyesight became dark blurs,you knew were close to cumming.

There was a sharp pain on your shoulder, you looked over to find dabi biting down on you, you felt his thumb rub against your clit,afterward that was the last push to send you overboard. Dabi came after you

You lazily slouched down,coming from your high, dabi left hickies on your neck to your shoulders before calling out "Wanna spark up before round 2"

Thank you for reading :) - I don't know what came over me for writing this to be honest . Though him progressively becoming an asshole was my main goal at some point. Follow me for more❤️

[ydolanssss]

A hood love story: G.D

Warnings: violence, sexual innuendos, a lot of cursing.

Pairing: Grayson Dolan X female reader.

Summary: bottom line is... remember where tf you came from.

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

Friday night lights.....most basic ass idea for a football game.

Just a whole shit-ton of rich ass white kids, acting like they hard when in actuality they have no awareness of anything outside of thier little gated community.

They weren't aware of the situation Grayson was in.

They either villainize him and where he's from, Or they romanticize where he's from. Either way they never talk to him.

They talk to ethan though, because unlike his brother he decided to just forget who he was and where he came from...that including his brother.

But you didn't think like them, you didn't treat people differently because of where they come from, or where they live. So you became friends with gray, best friends, and y'all were together all the time.

"hey gray you tryna go to the game today? You asked leaning on the locker next to his.

"there's a game?"

"yea against the cougars, you wanna go?"

"....mmm" gray never really went to any school event because well...he was kind of a loner, you didn't blame him tho.

"pleeeeeaaaseee, gray can we?" You asked with pleading eyes, and a quivering pouty lip.

"...fine"

"YESSIRRR, let's goo" you shouted, and skipped to class.

You went through the next couple of classes pretty quickly, went home, did some homework and waited for Grayson to come over.

"when you coming over hoe"

"I'm already outside, come on"

You run outside lock the door, hop in the car and head back to the school. The game had already started, but no one had scored yet. You and gray sit on the bleachers, and eat some popcorn.

"who you think finna win?" Gray said shoving food in his mouth. "I don't know, but prolly not our school, they haven't won a game in like...ever."

"true true" gray nodding in agreement untill his phone starts ringing. "Ayo hold up I gotta take this."

"hmm oh okay, I'll stay here" reassuring him. He walks to the back of the bleachers, "yo, wassup?"

*Anonymous* "Ayo when I see you, you getting lit tf up".

"Whoa, what? Who is this?" Gray asked confused as too who was tryna kill him.

"you know who this is lil bruh, it's daymen, oscars brother. You stole some shit from him the other day, and gave it to ya lil rich ass friends."

"what? Rich ass friends? Ion got no rich ass friends."

"okay okay, so you gon lie to me now huh?, Alright look, bring my lil brother his money or you getting lit tf up, and I take ya lil bitch for myself. You know the fine one, wit the braids."

"Don't you fuckin touch her."

Meanwhile you on the bleachers

"bitch what the fuck are you talking about?" Looking at claire and her lil posse.

"you know what I'm talking about, how long you been fucking my boyfriend."

"claire....who's your boyfriend?" You ask genuinely curious, because you do not keep tabs on miss bam-ba-lam-my-cars-a-hundred-grand.

"Grayson is duh." Because apperently that was common knowledge.

"g-grayson, Grayson Dolan the brother of Ethan Dolan, correct, just to make sure, Grayson with a "a" and a "o" not a I or a E. That Grayson?" Ya know...just to be clear.

"yes that Grayson, god are you dense?!"

"Oh no ma'am very much I am not, because the only grayson i know, don't fuck with bitches like you. Oh hell no, cuz yall don't fuck with people like him. And out of the mother fucking blue, he's your man, sweet-pea, i-is that what you telling me?" Because miss ma'am got you fucked alllll the way up.

"oh really how are you gonna tell me who I'm dating, I had sex with and who stole weed for me?" You pause....

"bruh what? Ugh now I know you tripping because Grayson don't fucking smo-"

"Aye, come on! Games boring anyway." Grayson yells from the bottom of the bleachers.

"alrighty well, miss. Thing I don't know what to tell you. Gods speed finding your Grayson because mine don't smoke." You picked up your things and walked with gray back to the car.

"hey what was the call about?" You asked

"huh? Oh it's was just my mom asking how long we were gonna stay at the game, I told her for the next hour so we could go do something else." He said.

You notice he kept looking around a lot, like he's was paranoid, waiting for something to happen.

"gray you good? You keep looking around, what's wrong?" You out ur hand on his shoulder concerned.

"huh?! Ohh nothing nothing let's go, come on"

He drags you to the car, and open the door for you, and he gets in the driver's side and drives off.

"ok I guess, um whatcha wanna do, wanna go to the park, or that on abandoned house that has a perfect view of the sunset, or ice cream, or ice cream and sunset. You looked at him, lip pouting head turn to the side, waiting for answer.

"uhh...ice cream only I wanna get you home okay?" He sighs, hands gripping the wheel tight as hell.

"umm what no I don't wan-"

"No! I have to get you home. I just, I just do, okay? Please I'm sorry for yelling come here." As you two pull in to the ice cream parlor's parking lot.

You lean in and he kisses you on your forehead, " I just need to be safe okay, it's late I don't want you out at night okay?"

"what? What do you mean I'm with you?"

He walks to your side of the car to open the door, "I know but....you cant be around me now at night at least it's not safe." After you get out he walks to the counter and tells you the get a table, you stand puzzled for a bit but you go anyway.

when he gets back with two oreo milkshakes, you ask him, "gray wait why isn't it safe? Why can't I be around you? What going on?." You ask frantic, worried your friend is in some sort of trouble.

"just because you can't don't- who is that?"

He asks leaned down a little.

"who is who? You turn around, and see a car speeding towards you both." Gray grabs your arm and pulls you down.

"GET DOWN! GO RUN BACK TO THE CAR!"

You do, you get to the car get inside and lean down, then you hear gun shots fire.

*bow bow bow bow*

The car skids off and everything is quiet, you look up and you see Grayson laid out on the ground. "oh my god...".

You get out hesitantly walking towards his body, "g-gray...baby, please oh God please no, god don't tell me he's gone" tears streaming down your face, you can't bare to walk any closer, and you drop to your knees and sob.

"no..please not my best friend." As the smoke clears you say this, the sun is setting in the background, it's a somber feeling somehow you feel safe and sad at the same time, while in that same moment your best friend, very much could be breathing his last breaths.

Then, like the miracle baby he is, Grayson wakes up, with a hell of pain in his shoulder. "Wha-? Ohh fuck my shoulder, holy shit, wait where's? Hey, hey, pretty girl why you crying?" He asks litterally sitting up looking at you holding his shoulder.

You stop crying, eyes shoot open. "Wha- GRAY!!" you run over and hug him, crying.

"i-i thought you were dead, *sniff* you were-*sniff* laying there not moving." Say sobbing into his shoulder.

He holds you with his good arm, "shh shh, it's ok, I'm not dead baby, I'm right here, I'm bleeding out of my shoulder and I should probably go to the hospital, but im not dead." His head sitting on top of yours

"oh shit, yea okay let's go." You help him to the car and start driving, you drop him off at the hospital and tell him you're gonna go take care of something.

You get back in your car and drive to a harbor, you then park and start disassembling his gun.

"god...I don't even know why he has this thing, granted he did get shot at but for fucks sake." You mumbled to yourself.

You speed back to the hospital,the doctors tell you he already out of surgery and he's doing fine, and they tell you his room number.

You walk back to his room. "Hey...Grayson baby, you okay?" You whisper not wanting to scare him.

"hmm? Oh yea hey come in." He's sitting up in bed both of his arms in slings. "Can you do me a favors and grab my juice box?"

You look on his tray and there's a little apple juice, juice box on it. "Oh yea sure sweetie." You poke the straw through the hole and hold it up to his mouth.

"Thank you."

"your welcome lovie." The doctor came in. "Ah, I see your already on it, that's good, very sweet of you." You look at him confused.

"um care to explain sir, or am I slow."

He chuckles, "my apologies, um since your friend, I'm assuming has two bad shoulder that have made him unable to move his arms at all he will need around the clock assistance."

You set down the juice box that he basically breathed in. "What do you mean both shoulders I thought he only got shot in one?"

"oh he did but his other shoulder is slightly sprained it's should heal up in a around 2 and a half weeks, while the other shoulder should take at most 4, but normally three. So due to his situation, his arm mobility is hindered untill a later date." He says with his arms crossed over his clip board.

You sit next to gray and look at him, "well I'm down, it's not like we don't spend every single second with each anyway." Gray laughs, "yea I guess thats true."

The doctors clear him and you help him get dressed but since it was late you threw a hoodie on him since there was no use for the sleeves.

You both get in the car and drive to your house, "come on gray we gotta get you to sleep." You tap and rub his tummy to wake him.

You get him up and walk up stairs to your bathroom. "Ok lemme brush your teeth." You sit on the sink and brush for him.

"okay that's done. Um alright it's 2 am ur tired I'm tired we can do the rest tomorrow okay?" You ask Grayson who's barley keeping his eyes open. "Okayyy." He says yawning.

"all right let's go to bed." You walk him over to the side of the bed and help him sit down.

" all right be careful and don't drop all the way down be careful not to lose your- oh fuck!"

You both lost your balance and fell on the bed, your on top of him millimeters away from his face. You never really looked at Grayson that way, never really looked at his eyes, dark as the ocean pulling you deeper and deeper to the point where you don't care if you drown.

Or his lips, they look so soft and smooth, if you were to kiss them it would feel like silk pillows. His lips..."oh fuck his lips."

Grayson catches your eyes staring at his lips and he sits up. "My lips baby, hmm that what you want?" You both sitting up on the bed. "Where? Your neck, cheek?" He drags his nose up the side of your neck to your ear.

"or that pretty little pussy?"

You gasp and get up off of him. "Um okay time to go to bed for real this time. Uh you good? you okay? Need any thing?"

"uh nah, nah I'm good. I guess...I'm laying flat then?" You turn to look at him.

"um yea I think that would be best."

You both start to relax and go to sleep.

"hey gray? I gotta ask you something, you know what's up with clair because she came up to me claiming I'm fucking her boyfriend, who's apperently you and also you stole some weed for her and that just dosent make sense to me."

He jerks his head to look at you "wait what!? When?"

"when you left to answer the phone she said your her boyfriend and she would know the person's she's been fucking and the guy who stole weed for her."

"so that's why- ughh fucking ethan."

"what? What about him? And what was that phone call about?"

He sighed "okay so I got a phone call from this guy named daemin, and I guess he thinks I stole weed from his little brother oscar, and I guess he's been watching me or something he said if I don't get his money he'll light my ass up and he'd go for my lil bitch himself, the one with the braids."

"oh shit so it was Ethan who stole the weed and prolly gave that guy your number, and prolly claimed he was you...now what the fuck wrong with claire?"

"Claire don't know that theres two of us and she don't talk to people he's friends with so he probably lied to her to."

Laying there in shock you think to yourself. "What kinda fucked up shit you got going on to lie about your whole identity and pretend to be your twin brother that you treat like shit?"

"ion know ask him."

You said it outloud.... again. "Oh shit my bad. But I will actually."

"what? No don't-"

"no gray this shit is crazy. YOU GOT SHOT! I'm not gonna let him get away with that shit gray! Now go to bed."

He sighs and closes his eyes.

——————————————————————

Next morning comes around. You wake up early to make grays' breakfast. A protein shake with some greek yogurt mixed with fruit.

You go back upstairs and he's awake.

"hey boo sorry to keep you waiting. I was making your breakfast. Need help?"

"yeth please."

"okay silly, sit up, legs out, and stand up on three okay? One, two, three...theeeere we go."

You walk over to the bathroom. Brush his teeth, wash his face and...help him pee.

"okay so how do you wanna do this gray?"

"umm you could hold it? If you wanna."

"seriously grayson. But that's like-"

"look your gonna have to bathe me at one point within these three weeks so like might as well get used to it."

"mm true, gosh okay."

You pull his pants down quickly trying to get this over with as soon as possible.

"okay so do I just like h-hold it or something? Or like do I just let it hang there?"

"no no you got to hold it bro otherwise I'll piss on myself then you have to change my pants and my underwear and wipe my legs down."

"ewww... Okay okay I guess this is better. Um sorry if my hands are cold."

"your all good."

"speaking of shower, let's just get that out the way because you haven't showered in a brick."

He sighs "alright"

You help him get his clothes off and turn on the shower.

"alright hop in big dic- oop- I mean big head." You giggle to yourself.

"ouu ok baby, oh and just for pure curiosity, which head?"

You slowly turn to him. "The one that made you think of that dumbass question, goofy get in, naughty ass."

"okay! Okay! Shit you the naughty one." Said with a smirk followed by a failed and painful attempt to slap your ass.

"ow! Ow! Fuck my shoulder!"

"and that's what ya get, hop in." You say giving him a pinch on the ass.

"what a nice butt, good for you!"

"thank you queen." He smiles

"your welcome king." And proceed to bathe him

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

A couple hours later you left Grayson at home with him and a tv and left out all the snacks on the counter at a reachable level, whole you went out and....handle some business.

On the phone: "hey, meet me at the bleachers okay I need to talk to you about something."

"uh yea sure I'll be there."

A couple hours later, your sitting on the bleachers with the cold New Jersey air, causing your nose to become ice cold.

"hey." You jumped.

"oh shit! Oh hey sorry you scared me."

"ha, yea um sorry about that, so what did you wanna talk about?"

Now to most that seems like a very obvious question, it'd go something like 'hey why the fuck did you lie about your identity and completely drop your twin fucking brother'. Right? No.

The problem is you and Ethan have history, which also adds to the reason why your a lot closer to gray than Ethan and was like the breaking point of Ethan and Grayson relationship.

Basically in freshman year of highschool you and Ethan....dated?? Well no you did date but...it was shorted lived because he decided to cheat...on you. Crazy right? I know. And you'll never guess who he cheated on you with.....Claire!!! Isn't that amazing, what a coincidence.

So the day you found out was kinda intense.....

"What is wrong with you!"

"Why would you do that to her!"

"As long as we've know her!"

"Huh Ethan! What's the matter with you! Who raised you! It wasn't ma! I most definitely wasn't dad!"

Grayson being the lovely, kind, understanding soul that he is decided to give Ethan a piece of his mind after consoling you in the living room.

"Jesus Grayson! It wasn't even that bad!"

With his hands on his hips, mouth ajar and eyes bugging out of his head.

"you've gotta be shitting me. You made out with the bitch ON SNAPCHAT! THEY GOT YOU IN 4K BRO! What do you mean it isn't that bad!"

"look why does it bother you so much? Like it's not your relationship. It's mine."

"Because your my brother and I love you and I love her to, I want her to be loved and appreciated the way she deserves, and I expected better from you, I never thought, my brother, a fucking scumbag of a man. Had the audacity to cheat on his girl. I guess I stand fucking corrected."

They sit in silence for a while. Your in the living room nervous because you've seen them fight of course but, never this heated.

"well if you love so damn much you be with her, I don't fucking want her if there's gonna be this much drama."

Time for you to get angry.

"First of all motherfucker you cheated! Don't you fucking switch this around on me."

Grayson stands in front of you, tear filling your eyes by the gallons.

"I fuckin loved you....so much, so hard...I did. And this what you fucking do...this the last time I love someone as much as I loved you."

And with that you stormed out. Grayson followed disgusted with his brother.

--------

"....so what did you wanna talk about."

You snap back into reality.

"umm well one your fucking brother was shot!"

He jumps back. "What?! Was he really? When by who?"

"a few days ago. most likely by a guy named oscar...who shot him because apparently, Grayson 'sober4L' Dolan™, stole weed from him. Now the only people in this damn highschool that smoke are those rich ass kids you hang out with, and gray got a phone call about this whole situation and claimed that if he didn't get his money or the weed back, he was gonna shoot up him and take his lil girlfriend, 'the one with the braids'."

He rocks back and forth anxiously, knowing he was caught.

"and of course the only girl he's around with braids is me."

"okay look i-"

"Aht aht wait, I'm not done."

"because at the same time grayson was on the phone I had and interaction with the lovely ms.claire. She claimed I was 'fucking her boyfriend' and I asked who and she said 'grayson the one who stole weed for me'."

He puts his head in his hands.

"so now I'm looking at her like she dumb because we both know Grayson dosent smoke, so a couple hours later I ask grayson about the situation and then he tells me about the phone call, so we put two and two together."

"so gray got a call from someone claiming he stole thier weed, claire your lovely girlfriend enlightened me on the fact that I was sleeping with her boyfriend, who stole weed for her. Knowing Grayson is neither dating her or smokes. So who on earth, could have Grayson's number, steal Grayson name and identity and create a whole new fucking life. Oh hmm let's start with the fuck-amato who made the fuck sure no one knew he was a twin and also dates the girl that my ex boyfriend cheated on me with...who just so happens to be the fucking twin. what do you have to say for yourself?"

There is a pause between you and him.

"umm....I'm sorry."

"y-your sorry....SORRY YA BROTHER GOT SHOT AND ITS ALL YOUR- you know what here what we're gonna do."

You pull out your phone and you had saved daemin's number.

"you are gonna call oscar and tell him the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and tell him you'll get his lil cousin his money back okay?" Because if not I will..."

"okay, okay, call him."

You call and the phone starts ringing. He picks up.

"hello?"

"hey daemin I have the actual guy you wanted to shoot at and damn near kill"

"word? Who is it then?"

"his twin brother."

"ohhhh shit. Aw damn aye is gray good man I feel like shit he didn't deserve this."

"he's fine but his brother ethan, on the other hand is the guy you should've got, but look since I don't want both of them shot the fuck up he is gonna over there and hand you the money okay?"

"shit alright"

You end the phone call and he sends you the address.

"alright let's go."

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

You and Ethan pull up to daemin's house.

"look when we get in here don't say shit give him the fckn money and don't say shit."

"alright alright"

You walk towards the door and knock on it. It's opens and there stands a guy around Ethan's height.

"um hi are you daemin?"

"yea that me, you got my money?"

"oh yea we do, Ethan give it to him"

He pulls 85 dollars out of his pocket

"here you go man, um sorry for-"

The door slammed in our faces.

"umm I guess that it-"

"how's Graysons shoulder?"

"oh it's good it's getting better I gotta get back to him though, he can't do everything by himself."

"alright cool I just wanted to make sure, does he need anything like I got bandages and a first aid."

"oh no no its fine my mom's a nurse I got all the stuff I need thank you though."

"alright bye drive safe"

"okay thank you!"

You and Ethan get back to the car.

Ethan turns to you. "Um he's nicer than expected."

"yea...um okay, I'm gonna take you back home. "

"yup okay sounds cool. "

The drive to Ethan's was awkward and quiet. He still stayed at him and Graysons childhood home. You haven't been there in years.

"well here we are. God it still looks the same."

"yea hasn't changed since the last time you've been here."

You turn to look at him.

"alrighty well- mphm"

Ethan kisses you holding the side of your face.

"I miss you. I do. I'm so fucking sorry for hurting you. You didn't deserve that, I took you for granted. Please give me another chance."

Your in shock to say the least. Staring at him in disbelief.

"...no Ethan."

"what? What do you mean?!"

"I mean no, I'm not going to go back to you I don't feel that way about you. And honestly once a cheater always a cheater, I just can't give myself back to the same person that changed me emotionally, to where it's hard for me to love people as much as I used to. Like what you do if I cheated on you, would you come back to me? And be honest with yourself."

He moves his hand.

"...no"

"exactly...so don't expect me to be the same. Goodbye Ethan."

He gets out and goes inside and you drive back to your place.

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

You come back home Grayson in the living room, on the couch.

You sit next to him and talk to him about what happened, he was worried and frustrated at first with the fact that you went but understood it was your life at risk to. A couple of weeks pass, Graysons wound is fixed and you guys are let out for winter break.

Spending time with Grayson made you realize, what you deserved in a relationship, the love, appreciation, affection, loyalty. All of it, you deserved it.

And you got it, you and Graysons infatuation with one another, grew bigger and bigger over winter break. The Christmas vibes, sleeping in onesies and making cookies. Making love next to the fire place, trails of kisses going down both his and your body.

Afterwords..."hey Grayson? Can I ask you something."

"of course beautiful what is it?"

"how would you feel if we went back to school, ya know together?"

"when were we going separately?"

"nooo silly like together, a thing, an "item". We go back in a relationship. If that's something you want?"

"Are fucking joking! Of course I would baby. God, I've been waiting." And with that you finally found the love of your life, whom which in the future you had your two twin daughters with. Inez and Felicity.

You've never been so content.

[copias-thrall]

Working Out the Kinks

Now that these two dumbasses are comfortable with each other, it's time for some seXXXy communication.

⬅️ Previous

Falling asleep on the couch is one of those things that you only do sometimes. Waking up with a crick in your neck and sore limbs is usually enough of a deterrent—but it happens. The first time he’d found you in that state, Mary had tried to carry you to bed and dropped you; the next time, you’d woken up smashed into the back cushions with a solid boy on top of you, which is a whole ‘nother level of aches and pains, so you really do try to crawl to bed.

Tonight, you’d engaged in a little self-care after catching some cheesy, after-dark softcore on one of your premium channels. “Fuck it,” you’d thought as you’d sighed and rolled over onto your stomach, barely pulling the afghan over your bare ass, warm and flushed despite the chill, January air. (The radiators had dipped back down, but at least they were on.)

You wake up because Mary is pressed into you. Your shirt (one of his), is rucked up your back, and he’s kicked your legs apart. His teeth worry at your neck, and two of his fingers slip into your folds. As you moan, you bring an arm up to encircle his head, but he slaps it away.

“Shh. Be still,” he growls.

Ah. So, it’s going to be one of those nights.

You let yourself go limp, fighting the natural inclination to rock back into his fingers. Mary is all teeth and snarls, panting as he gets himself worked up. He rearranges you to his liking, and you let your limbs hang loose and heavy in his grasp. As he works, you can feel his cock—worked free of his jeans—rut against your ass, leaving trails of precum.

The tease of it—not touching Mary, not grinding back against him—always gets you going, and you feel yourself get wetter; Mary does too, and you hear him grunt in satisfaction. All you want to do is rub into the couch—or squeeze your thighs together—to relieve the burning arousal between your legs, but the denial is part of the game, for you at least.

Mary’s teeth scrape down your neck, disappearing for a moment only to land on your uncovered back. They continue down your spine as his hands grab at where you’re most fleshy. You can’t help the shiver that travels through you, but Mary doesn’t seem to notice—more interested in applying the edges of his teeth to the meatier parts of your ass. Subtly, you bite the edge of one cushion.

Mary blankets you with his body, and you can feel the bare skin of his chest as he rubs himself on you, his dick still poking into your ass cheeks. His nose finds its way into your hair, smelling you as it travels down into the crook of your neck. You feel more than hear the rumble in his chest as his hands work their way under your body to squeeze and fondle your tits. Whining slightly, he ruts into you as his hands continue to grab your tits and as his fingers swipe at your nipples.

The throb between your legs is now an intense thing, insistent in its bid to call attention to your ignored arousal. As if Mary can somehow sense the pulse through your skin, he wiggles his way back down your body—giving your bottom a cursory nip—before resting his head on the back of one thigh; two of his fingers circle then enter you, and it’s an exercise in your control not to moan out and push back on them so you can mash your sweet spot into his knuckles.

He doesn’t continue this act for very long, and—even though this was what you’d expected—you swallow a whine in protest. There’s a wet sound, which you assume is Mary tasting you on his fingers, and then his presence is gone from the couch. There’s some harried fumbling and rustling behind you—the telltale clank of his undone belt as it’s jostled about—before the couch sinks once again under his weight.

A familiar pressure presses against your hole right before Mary’s cockhead pops in and a huffed out grunt escapes from his lips. You’re grateful that he can’t see the way your eyes roll back and mouth slackens, but he must feel the slight twitch of your cunt even as you endeavor not to clench around him.

Rearranging your legs and gripping onto your hips, Mary rubs his tip in and out of you, and you feel it exquisitely as the ridge catches and pulls at your entrance. You try to keep your breathing steady against the urge to pant with need, as Mary continues to tease himself like that, and you can feel how his hands grip tighter, tighter, tighter.

As soon as he starts to tremble, he suddenly blows out a punch of air like a popped tire, and then he’s burying himself to the hilt in you with a groan. His hands slide up to your waist as he attempts to pull your body into each of his thrusts, and you can feel with every slap against your ass how his pelvis is coated in your wetness.

Mary is grunting along with each slap, and you can feel the damp spot on the cushion—where you bit or maybe drooled—as your cheek rubs against it. He shifts, and it’s enough that he’s now grazing your G-spot with every punch into you, and—fuck. You feel like maybe you could cum just from this. You want to reach back and grab his wrist; you want to slam your ass into him; you want to scream out, “Oh god, Mary—fuck me harder.”

But that’s not how this is supposed to go, so you just try to take a deep breath without him noticing as the throb of your clit beats in your ears.

As soon as Mary starts speeding up—him openly panting now—he falls down over you, boxing you in with his arms. His sweaty forehead presses into your shoulder as his arms squeeze tight around you, his breath heating the patch of shirt covering your shoulder blade. He’s pounding into you hard and fast, and if he could keep it up just like this—just for a few more minutes—you’re sure you could cum … but you know he’s at the point of no return. When he finally presses into you, long and deep—rumbling low in his throat—you swear you can feel just how hard his cock is before it kicks and hear his growl turn into a series of short moans as his hips give aborted twitches into you.

Once he collapses on you—his weight heavy as he wheezes through his nose—you don’t even wait for him to calm down, not caring if it ruins the play. You wiggle around—his messy cock popping out of you unceremoniously—and press yourself into him.

“I’m so fucking close, baby. Please get me off.”

Mary’s face is a sweaty ruin—his hair is stuck to him, his makeup like a Pollock painting—and his eyelids open as if stuck together.

“Fuck,” wheezes Mary, and then his mouth is on yours and his fingers are slipping back into your slit.

He tastes like a distillery—metallic, but sweet and tangy—and from this position you can smell the booze sweating out of him, but his fingers are clever and sure; they press and swirl at your throbbing nub as you suck on Mary’s tongue and bite hard on his lips. Your hands are in his hair and yanking hard on his locks as your already whorling arousal becomes a concentrated thing—all you can think about is the exploding sweetness every time the pad of Mary’s finger swipes over your hard clit.

You can feel your orgasm approaching, and all you want to be is theretherethere (some dim part of you aware that you’re shaking Mary’s head).

“In me! I want a finger in me,” you demand.

There’s a slight pause—and you mewl in frustration—as Mary reconfigures his hand position so that he can insert a digit into you while still massaging your clit.

And fuck—that’s so much better. Your pussy pulsates in agreement.

“Oh fuck, Mary—I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna—”

Your orgasm explodes over you like an EMP, wiping out your lower brain function as you jerk and twist into Mary’s body. The sounds you make aren’t pretty, but that doesn’t seem to discourage Mary from softly kissing your neck. You don’t even have time to come down because Mary’s fingers. Do not. Stop.

He speeds up on your clit again (you had barely registered that the pad of his finger had slowed) and you push weakly at his shoulder.

“Oh god, Mary, I’m—”

“So good to me. So good. Lemme me good to you, baby doll.”

Your nails dig into his biceps, and you’re sure there will be crescents left in his skin for days, but Mary is not deterred from getting you off one more time. It’s a quick, intense thing, and you don’t hesitate this time from pushing his hand away when you’re done.

The two of you lay like that—sweaty, panting, and pressed against each other as you hold Mary’s one hand at the wrist—for a few beats. You almost think Mary’s passed out, until he speaks.

“Jesus, woman—I might need a neck brace.”

“Your own fault,” you mumble into his collarbone.

His hand comes up and clumsily strokes through your hair, and you sleepily wonder if he just wiped your juices off in it when he did so. You’re just drifting under when Mary’s lips move against your forehead.

“Go pee.”

“No. Comfy.”

“Fucking do it.”

“Why?”

“You’ll fucking blame me if you get a UTI, and I don’t need that shit.”

You sigh heavily into his throat and extract yourself from the couch. Mary shivers and pulls the afghan around his nudity as you fumble about for your wool feeties.

Once in the bathroom, you get lost performing your nightly toilet, and by the time you come back out, Mary is snoring on the couch. If Mary had his choice, he’d want you to snuggle in with him, but you don’t really feel like spending a cramped night on the couch getting elbowed in the face, so you cover him with the extra blanket off your bed before settling in for the night.

***

You’re awoken in the early morning when Mary wiggles artlessly into your bed, jostling you about.

“You left me,” he murmurs into your neck as he wraps around you.

“Thought we’d sleep better this way.”

You feel his warm breath on your nape as he grunts, which you interpret as, “You’re right, but I still don’t like it.”

Whether you’ve slept for a few more minutes or a few hours, you can’t tell, but you’re woken once more by Mary’s lascivious attentions. His lips press into your neck as his hands wander up and down your arms and chest, and his hard cock is poking in between your thighs.

“Mare.”

“Mmm.”

“What’re you doing?” you singsong.

“Nuthin’.”

His fingers tweak your nipples through the shirt, and you gasp.

“You wanna?” he asks.

“Mmm,” you rumble, convinced, as you move one of his hands down to your pussy.

He swirls at your clit until you’re good and juicy, and then he fumbles to press his dick into you. You sigh and he grunts as he sinks home. Pulling you closer, he begins to slowly fuck into you, mouth sucking at your neck. You try to urge him faster, but he’s content to keep his languid pace. He brushes your hair back and kisses behind your ear as his hand—which he’d pressed to your belly to steady himself—wanders back down to toy with your clit.

Again, you try to speed up the pace, but he just continues lazily.

“C’mon, Mare. Want you to fuck me.”

“I am fucking you.”

“Mare,” you whine.

“Lemme have my sleepy morning fuck,” he grumbles.

You sigh heavily, but let Mary have his way. He builds you both up slowly—keeping his steady pace til nearly the end—as his mouth and hands play all your sweet spots. As soon as you start spasming and clenching around his cock in climax, Mary’s thrusts speed up. You’re bouncing off him, but you hardly care—content to ride out the waves of your orgasm as he slams into you.

“Goddamn, you feel good,” he pants.

“Mmm.”

Afterwards, he paws at you and demands Kisses, so you wiggle around and are content to let Mary pet and stroke at you while trading sloppy kisses with too much spit. You entice him into a shower—ok: you poke him until he snarls and snaps What?—and successfully avoid any more interludes.

Your pussy needs a breather.

***

It’s much later—breakfast has been cooked and consumed—and you’re lounging across the couch as you leaf through a beauty mag with your legs outstretched and your feet under Mary’s t-shirt, pressing into his bony ribs. He’s sprawled out in a hoodie and boxers, arms resting along the back of the couch as he watches one of those food competitions. You could really give a fuck about Helen and her buttermilk biscuits, but Mary—as on brand as usual—likes the drama, yelling along with it as if it were a wrestling match.

At some point, Mary idly grabbed one of your feet through his shirt and is now massaging it with his hand. You rest the magazine on your chest and close your eyes. After a while you think it’d be really nice if he did the other foot, so you wiggle and squirm, making non-verbal noises at him.

“Fucking now what?”

You jab your big toe of your bereft foot into his side. “Do the other one.”

“You and your prissy fucking feet.”

You scrunch your face at him. “Mare Bear, c’mon.”

“You want me to take care of your foot?”

“Yes!”

“You really want it?”

“Mary!” you whine.

“Ok!”

He yanks your foot out from under his shirt and runs his blunt nails lightly up and down the sole of your foot.

“OH MY GOD, MARY,” you squeal and try to jerk away, but he holds you firmly.

“Ah ah ah!” he chides.

“Fucking stop! Mare! Let go! Let go, Mary!”

His fingers only continue to hit every nerve on the bottom of your foot as you try to break free.

“Oh my god, stop fucking tickling me!”

He does not.

You roll up your magazine and bop him hard on the nose; he makes a startled noise, and you use the opportunity to slip your foot free. He catches your wrist before you can smack him again and makes your bop yourself on the forehead.

“Stop hitting yourself. Stop hitting yourself. Stop hitting yourself.”

You sputter at him, but he smacks you again, so you press your foot into his balls. He squeals—something very opposite of his death growl—and recoils away from you violently, dropping the magazine as his hands go to cover his crotch. You just curl into a ball, cackling loudly.

“I don’t like you anymore,” grumps Mary. He flicks the magazine at you with his wrist, and it flutters open before landing sprawled on your chest.

You’re still having an acute attack of the giggles when Mary reluctantly and warily unfurls. He glares at you. His eyes land back on the magazine, and he picks it up—this time to examine it.

“The fuck you reading Cosmo for?” He looks up, squinting at you as your giggles start to peter out. “Where d’you even get this?”

You reach out your hand and make a grabby motion, so Mary hands it back over.

“It was in my shrink’s waiting room. I wanted to finish the article I was reading.”

Mary snorts as you flip through the somewhat crinkled pages until you find the section you were looking for. You bend the cover back and show it to him.

“ ‘Sexy Secrets Your Man Wants You to Know’,” he recites. He furrows his eyebrows at you. “This is stupid.”

You pull it back toward you and shrug. “It was entertaining enough. It says here most men prefer blow jobs to fucking.” You look at him and raise your eyebrow. “Do you?”

Mary snorts. “Sex is sex, oral or otherwise.” He lightly scrapes his blunt nails down your leg. “I’m happy just busting a nut.” He waggles his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. “I don’t believe for one second you don’t have a preference. If you had to rank them—how would you?”

He actually seems to take some time to consider it, absently taking your foot up again, before looking back at you.

“Well, if you’re making me choose, I’d have to say—yeah:” he ticks off his fingers, “blow job; your cunt; titty fuck; hand job.”

“Huh.”

“ ‘Huh’?”

“I guess the others don’t surprise me—I mean my tits are fucking amazing—”

“I feel like I don’t fuck them enough—” He reaches out to squeeze one of your breasts.

“—but I am surprised you’d rank a bj first. Why?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Guess there’s something, uh … forbidden about it? Like, my dick’s not supposed to be there?” His hand rubs up your calf and back down. “Plus, it’s not as, um … passive, I guess, as your cunt is. And when you’re sucking me, I know it’s because you want it.” His eyes catch yours. “Want me.”

You lean forward. “You don’t think I want you when you fuck me?”

He runs his hand through his hair in an agitated manner. “See, this is why I didn’t want to fucking answer.”

You shift and knee over to him, crawling into his lap—which he accepts—and rest your arms over his shoulders.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Mare Bear. I was just curious.”

He runs his hands up your thighs and then rests on your hips; he looks up at you.

“I can’t really explain it. It’s like … you’re supposed to let me fuck your pussy. But when you use your mouth, it’s a choice you’ve made. It’s like … you’re accepting my dick—and that’s really fucking hot.”

His hands slide back down to your thighs and dig in.

“But of course I fucking love fucking into you. It’s the better sensation. There’s just … the way you feel around me when I cum—feels so fucking good.” He licks his lips before biting his plump bottom one. “And fuck—you get so wet and open. My cock just … slips so easily in and out of you. So soft and so slick, and I know you want me. I’ve fucked girls who are so tight, and it’s like: do you actually want me in you? Are you even enjoying this? I know some shitheads like that, but I just don’t get it. What’s hotter than knowing your lover is fucking open and dripping for you? I’m not really into fucking anyone who isn’t down.”

You lean down and kiss him, more than a little turned on. He accepts you readily, his hands slipping down to your ass before pushing you closer into him where you can feel his semi.

“Hmm,” you hum as you break the kiss.

“Hmm?”

“What about that other thing, though?”

Mary furrows his brows at you.

“What ‘other thing’?”

“You know … that thing you like? Last night?”

You feel him tense minutely.

“What about it? You said it was fine.”

“It is fine. I was just curious … it seems at odds with what you just said.”

His hands recede, and he crosses his arms, leaning back into the couch.

“Are you saying you aren’t down for it?”

“Christ, Mary. Why are you getting so defensive? That’s not what I said at all.”

He turns his head away from you.

“I just don’t see why you gotta interrogate me.”

You turn him by the jaw back to face you.

“I just want to understand why you get off so much having me pretend to be unconscious or passed out given what you just said.”

Mary jerks away from you, but it’s in surprise.

“What the fuck.”

“What?”

“Is that what you think that is?”

“Um …”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Suey.”

He presses his palms into his eye sockets.

“What??”

He rubs at his eyeballs before looking at you.

“You can be really … unaware … sometimes, you know that? Can you use your brain?”

It’s you who crosses your arms this time.

“There’s no reason to be a dick.”

“If you paid more attention to literally anything besides what revolves around you, it’s really fucking obvious, you know.”

You feel your face heat.

“Whatever,” you say, and then you’re extracting yourself from his lap and stomping off to your room. You try to slam your door, but the clothes from the hook behind it get caught in the frame, and it instead bounces back open. You’re already throwing yourself onto the bed, so all you do is huff in annoyance before you bury your face in a pillow.

You hear a Fuck from the living room, and then Mary’s heavy tread.

“Dramatics. Really?” Mary says from the doorway.

“Well, you love drama. So,” you mumble into your pillow.

“Don’t be a fucking smartass.”

“Takes one to know one.”

After a minute, Mary sighs, then you feel the bed dip. His arms go to wrap around you, but you spit out a No and try to squirm away.

“Don’t be a bitch, c’mere.”

He tries again, and you grunt, but ultimately let him pull you into him.

“Baby doll.” He sighs. “You’ve listened to our songs. You’ve scrolled through my camera roll.”

“Yeah …?”

“Please put two and two together.”

After some thought, you do.

“Oh. Oh.” You wiggle around to face him. “I’m supposed to be … dead.”

Mary lowers his eyes, shrugs.

“Some guys like feet. Some dudes buy internet panties. For me, it’s … corpses. The beauty of decay …” You feel him shrug. “I just. Assumed you … understood.”

For as much as he’s curled around you, he’s also curling in on himself.

You take a moment so you can choose your words carefully.

“I mean, it’s a little … weirder … than I thought,” you say as you stroke his head, “but being kink shamed fucking sucks—I can speak from experience. So this—us—can be a sexual safe zone, ok, baby? I might tell you I’m not into something, but I’m never going to fucking judge you for it. So you want me to play dead sometimes … ok.” You run a hand through his hair. “Besides, it’s hot when you get all turned on. You might have noticed I‘ve been into it.”

Mary presses into you. “This is what I was fucking saying. It’s better when you’re both down.”

He tilts his head to engage you in a kiss, his mouth greedy for yours, and you meet it with a returned fervor. After some negotiating, your one leg is draped over him as he ruts into the space between your legs. One of his hands is tangled in your hair, the other squashed in between you two as he thumbs at your nipple; one of your hands is cupped around his ass, urging his thrusts into you.

You slide your hand down and cup his balls through his boxer briefs before rolling them in your palm. He makes a pleased sound before pressing harder into you. You press behind them, and he rumbles, giving your tongue a hard suck before sliding his own hand down your front until he reaches your pussy. Your wetness has already spread across your folds, and he uses it to lightly trace his fingers over your lips.

When you moan out at the delicious tease, Mary breaks contact with your mouth to say, “Yeah, just like that—moan for me, lemme hear how much you want it” against your lips. He continues to trail his fingers around you, almost barely touching your soft skin. You can practically feel yourself slick further, the tops of your thighs now slip-sliding against each other. A huff of pleasure leaves your lips, and you throw your head back; Mary takes the opportunity to start sucking at your neck. He’s still only lightly running his fingers over your folds, and it’s driving you nuts, your clit throbbing in time to every beat of your heart.

The pad of a finger gives your hole a barely there press before trailing your wetness over your seam. You make a sound of frustrated consternation, and Mary says, “Mmm, somebody’s impatient.”

You take the hand that’s been intermittently rolling his balls and slide it up to the opening in his boxers; you slip your hand in to get a good grasp of his dick—it’s warm and moist, your fingers tacky against it. When you begin to roll your fingers on it, Mary grunts and thrusts his hips.

“Fucking tease.”

“Turnabout’s fair play,” you taunt as you lick his ear.

He growls, and suddenly a finger slips into you, his thumb pressing at your clit.

Something high pitched and whiny punches out of you as all that buildup suddenly pools and causes you to spasm.

“Cry out for me,” Mary demands as his digits press insistently at you in tandem.

“Mary!” you whimper.

“What was that?” He presses harder.

“Mary!”

His thumb isn’t being gentle at all, but your clit is already hard, engorged, and bubbling under the pressure. You’re ridged and jerking against him, your hand no longer stroking his cock—but you can feel him smiling against your neck.

And then you’re cumming. Hard.

You’re panting and moaning and jerking as your pussy pops and your muscles clench and unclench … it seems to go on forever, especially since Mary doesn’t let up on you at all. You’re practically screaming, and still Mary keeps going.

“I wanna hear you sing one more time, baby doll—and when you do I better hear my name or I’ll make you go again.”

“Oh Jesus cocksucking fucK,” you respond.

There’s a low buzzing in between your legs that Mary coaxes into a full roar in almost no time at all. It almost seems too soon, but you feel the telltale tingle just as you’re about to crest again, and you cry out MaryMaryMaryMary right before you spasm again around his fingers.

When your head clears, you slump into the line of Mary’s body, and he gently extracts his fingers from you even as he’s beginning to rut frantically into you.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he gasps into your skin. “You’re so wet—can I put it in you? Please? I want to cum in something warm.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out languidly.

You artlessly fumble trying to push down your sleep pants, but Mary’s already thrusting his dick in between your slick thighs, grunting in pleasure. His hands come around to grab handfuls of your ass as he thrusts.

“So good!” he gasps.

For a minute you think he’s going to cum just like this, but soon enough he’s trying to get his dick in you—which is easier said than done at this angle and with your pants still around your knees. After some cursing and manipulation with both your hands, he finally sinks into you—still sensitive, you groan as he fills you, and he lets out a breathy moan of relief.

His thrusts are jerky and unsteady, his movements into you half desperate.

“Your cunt is here for my cum,” he growls. “Just to take my load.”

“I’m your cum dumpster,” you purr in his ear.

He makes an Unmph sound and locks up, so you clench as hard as you can around his cock.

“Fuck!” he exclaims, his spittle spraying you slightly and his blunt fingernails digging into your arms as his hips jerk into you over and over as he rides out the waves of his orgasm. You finally feel the tension ease out of him, and his thrusts slow, even if they don’t stop. Eventually his soft cocks pops out of you enough that he can’t keep going, so instead he sighs and rolls on top of you.

You let out an Oof and squirm in protest, but he just grumbles at you to deal with it. His forehead is sweaty, his hair sticking to it in tufts, and you can’t help but run your fingers through it; Mary rumbles happily.

The two of you doze like that—sticky, sweaty, sated, and in a state of undress—until a loud cheer emanates from the TV, rushing you back into consciousness. Mary’s weight is pressing on your bladder, and—despite his unhappy noises and grasping hands as you push him off you—you separate yourself so you can jaunt to the bathroom.

Again.

You shouldn’t be surprised when Mary wanders in soon after. Luckily you’re washing your hands; unluckily Mary begins to relieve himself. When you squeak and quickly turn away, he tsks at you.

“I thought we were over this.”

“Christ, Mare. One conversation doesn’t negate nearly 2 decades of upbringing.”

He finishes and jostles you out of the way to wash his hands.

“You just called yourself my ‘cum dumpster,’ but ok.”

You stick your tongue out at him in the mirror, but he just grins at you.

“What time do you have to leave for work? Soon?”

He sighs.

“Not soon, no. I don’t even know why he wants me to come in at all. He’s got enough staff tonight, but I guess he needs someone to close and do break down and stuff. He trusts me or some shit—which is nice, I guess—but he doesn’t even want me to show up ‘til 2am.”

You wrap your arms around his skinny middle.

“So what do you want to do?”

Mary jumps his eyebrows at you, but you slap his chest.

“If you fuck me one more time, I swear my vagina is going to fall out.”

***

In the end, you set up the latest binge-worthy show on Netflix on your laptop so the two of you can lounge in your bed all afternoon as you scream at each episode's cliffhanger. At some point Mary retrieved the magazine and insisted on doing the “Which Sex in the City character are you?” quiz.

“No, seriously. How did you get ‘Samantha’ and I get ‘Charlotte’?” he grumbles as he starts to do the math again.

Your head’s in his lap as he reclines against the wall (his thighs are excellent pillows) as you trail a finger idly up and down his leg. You’re only half listening now, your mind ruminating on all the things Mary told you today.

“Mare?”

“Yeah?”

“Is there anything else?”

He puts down the magazine.

“What do you mean?”

You wiggle around so that you can look up at him.

“Is there anything else that you like that you maybe haven’t told me?”

His face scrunches up in thought.

“Oh. Um.” He pushes your hair behind your ear. “I’m pretty sure it’s not your thing—which is fine.”

You slip a hand under his shirt to rest on his stomach to ground him.

“Tell me anyway.”

He stares down at you for a moment.

“Blood play—or I should say: I like the taste of blood.”

You feel your eyes widen (though you shouldn’t be surprised), but Mary just chuckles and ruffles your hair.

“We can shelve that one, baby doll. What about you, huh? Other than tormenting me, that is.”

You worry at the hem of his boxers.

“Well …” you draw out slowly. “It’s that. I’ve always wanted to, um.” Your face heats. “Top a dude. I’ve just … always identified more with the guys in porn: inserting instead of, uh, being inserted into—shut up—appeals to me. A lot.”

Mary snorts.

“You like control. That’s not new info.”

You make a mean lemon face at him. “I don’t hear you complaining.”

He grins at you. “True.” His hand slips into your hair, tugging just a little. “But, uh …” He licks his lips. “I’d definitely be into that. You pegging me.”

You perk up. “Really?”

“What do you think?” he says as he guides your hand to the outline of his half-hard cock.

Looking up at him, you wriggle your hand through the slit in his boxers and wrap your hand around his rapidly growing hardness. Mary just looks down at you with hooded eyes.

“I think …” you say as you give him a loose jack. “That it feels like you’d enjoy me bending you over and fucking you.”

Mary exhales.

You press your thumb into his sweet spot, and he swallows.

“That I’d make you come on my cock or not at all.”

“Jesus Christ, Suey,” he breathes.

You swipe your thumb over his tip and stroke your curled fist back down.

“That I’d like to hear you beg me to cum.”

Mary’s dick throbs, and you pull it out.

You lick your lips and bite them, then you momentarily let go of him so you can spit into your palm. When you wrap your hand back around him, Mary shudders.

“I bet you’d like me to fuck you hard and fast.”

Your hand jacks him faster, and Mary twitches, his eyes closing.

“But I’d fuck you nice and slow.”

You slow down the speed of your strokes, and Mary lets out a huff of air.

“Wanna hear you whine for it.”

You squeeze his dick.

“Whine for it.”

“Please,” whines Mary as his hips jerk.

“Please, what?” you ask as you trace your thumb around the ridge of his cockhead.

Mary’s eyes snap open to look down at you, glazed and unfocused.

“Please let me cum.”

“Mmm. I’ll think about it,” you purr as you start stroking him again, adding more spit. If you weren’t so comfortable, you’d consider taking him in your mouth, but Mary seems to be enjoying himself, in any case.

You stroke him at a moderate pace for a few minutes before you stop and stretch your arm out. Mary makes a pitiful noise.

“Just giving my arm a break.” You smile sweetly up at him.

“Please let me cum … let me cum, please,” he pants with feeling.

More spit and you’re back on him, giving him long strokes where your fist almost comes off him, Mary gasping on every downstroke as your wet fist glides back over his tip.

“Oh god—faster,” he breathes.

You stop, his dick throbbing as you hold him at the base; his eyes snap open and look down at you.

“What was that?” you demand.

“Um … faster?”

“Oh, I’m sorry—who’s driving this?”

Mary gulps, and you can see the sweat dripping down his face.

“You are.”

“So, who are you to give me directions?”

“N-No one.”

You start stroking him again—extra slow.

“I mean,” you muse, “I could go faster, but … I don’t know if I should if you’re going to be bossy about it. Maybe I should just stop all together.”

Mary’s fists clutch at the sheets.

“No, please. Please let me cum,” he begs even as his cock kicks in interest. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Hmm. I don’t know. Maybe I should leave you like this to teach you some manners.”

“Fuck, Suey. You gotta let me cum.”

“Do I?” You tap at his sweet spot with your thumb, and he jerks. “Are you sure?”

“Yesss,” he hisses, and his hips almost leave the bed. “Fuck, I gotta work.”

“Ok,” you sigh in mock disappointment. “Consider this your first and only warning about manners. I won’t be so lenient next time.”

You start to jack him with intent, and Mary goes rigid.

“Oh fuck, thank you. I’ll be so good. I promise.”

Shifting around, you manage to get your other hand under his balls, and soon Mary is tensing and gulping. There's a distinct throb between your legs, and you’re squeezing your thighs together almost in time to every downstroke. Mary’s eyes dart to the movement.

“Can I touch you?”

You make a noise of assent and shimmy your sleep pants down enough that Mary’s hand can easily access your cunt. When his finger makes contact with your slickness, his eyes roll back into his head.

“Oh my god.”

You’re not unaffected by the circle of his finger, and you start jacking faster. It’s not long before the two of you are in a feedback loop, clumsily petting at each other, hips rocking.

“Oh fuck, oh god … I’m gonna …” moans Mary, and you’re quick to press the head of his hardening cock onto your tongue, rubbing a little.

Mary’s head snaps down to look at you, and then his hands shoot out to grab at the covers as you taste the salt of his release in your mouth. You bring your lips around him and suck. Mary moans hard, and one hand grabs at the back of your head to hold you in place. You’re happy to stay there as Mary rocks his tip in your mouth.

Then he relaxes back into the pillows, and his hand falls limply down to his side.

“Fuck.”

When his breathing slows a little, he looks down at your smug face.

“C’mere,” he says as he tries to maneuver you into his lap. You kick off your pants and straddle his thighs. Mary pulls you into a heated kiss as his fingers find your clit again, and you press into him, hands on his shoulders for leverage.

In the end, you ride his fingers more than he manipulates you, rolling your hips and pressing into him as you chase your climax. Your hands creep up into his hair, and you yank it down as you get higher … higher … higher …

And then Mary’s finger is flicking at you rapidly, and you’re gasping as your cunt tightens, then releases, releases, releases—you rocking into him to ride out the pleasure. When you slump, Mary’s finger slows, then disappears so he can wrap an arm around you.

“That was nice,” he says as he presses a kiss to your neck, which makes you shiver.

“Mmm.”

He rubs your back. “You’re good to my dick.”

You snort a laugh and lean back a little to look at him.

“We need to keep better track of the lube.”

Mary holds his hands up in front of him. “I ain’t touching anything in this room without permission. Keeping track of that giant bottle is all on you.”

Grimacing, you look around. “Maybe it rolled under the bed?”

“You’re a disaster.”

You scoff at him. “I’m not the one who’s going to be late.”

Mary jerks his head to your clock, where it shows he clearly has hours to get ready and leave. He gives you his grump face.

“You’re the meanest the girl in the entire world.”

“You dig it.”

He huffs, but a smile twitches at the corner of his lips.

After that, you wiggle back down and curl around one of his legs as he continues to read the magazine in silence, his one hand idly massaging your scalp. You’re halfway asleep when you’re jostled awake by Mary getting up, and you grumble, turning your head to smush into the bed.

“Hey,” says Mary, his voice close.

You grunt.

“I’m going to get ready and leave.”

“Mhm.”

You hear him laugh.

“Ok, baby doll. Go back to sleep.”

Even as you’re drifting off to sleep almost immediately, you feel him press a kiss into your hair and adjust the blankets around you.

Next ➡️

[han-shinsuke]

s a c h i r o h i r u g a m i x L u n a

Ⓝ︎Ⓞ︎Ⓣ︎ Ⓢ︎Ⓤ︎Ⓘ︎Ⓣ︎Ⓐ︎Ⓑ︎Ⓛ︎Ⓔ︎ Ⓕ︎Ⓞ︎Ⓡ︎ Ⓨ︎Ⓞ︎Ⓤ︎Ⓝ︎Ⓖ︎ Ⓡ︎Ⓔ︎Ⓐ︎Ⓓ︎Ⓔ︎Ⓡ︎Ⓢ︎

🔞🔞🌼🌼⚠️⚠️

“ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪ'ʟʟ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴛᴏᴘ ᴄʜᴀsɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ, ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴛᴏ ʜᴏʟᴅ”—the light, the heat.

🍁🍁🍁

“When will you stop?” Sachiro’s frequent question every time I dropped by in his unit. Instead of answering, I would just gave him my usual smile as I starts arranging his essentials in the cupboard. He develops this kind of habit after he lost his girlfriend and their two dogs in a car accident two years ago. Sachiro would question the actions he thinks inappropriate and useless. He’d also question his existence and why it was only him who survived the fatal car crash.

Sachiro stands on his feet and picks up the remote control of his theater television, “you should stop coming here, Luna, I am not your obligation.” He says as he turned off the t.v.

It was his habitual manner, driving away those who cares for him, shutting down every help that tries to sneak in his life.

“Once you get better, Hiro, you won't see this face anymore.” I was smiling wide when I told him the same answer I keep telling him but, deep down in my heart, I was crying.

I put the last can of processed meat on top of his other canned goods and closed the glass lead of the storage.

“I won’t get better, Luna, I’m a hopeless case.”

“No. You will, soon.”

“There are situations and people that love could not cure, Luna, why can’t you accept that fact?”

“Because it was love that saved you! Her love for you that I’d never be able to surpass! She saved you, Hiro! It's your dead girlfriend who sacrificed her life for you to live so, please, Hiro, value the life she willingly surrendered just for you.”

I turned my head immediately when my voice broke. I'm in haste of preventing more tears to come out from my eyes.

“Luna...” I did not respond to his call. I took few steps away from him and breathe out some heavy air. Calm down. Calm down. I keep telling myself.

“Excuse me, Sachiro, I need to bring your soiled clothes to the laundry station.”

I walked pass him once I finished gathering his clothes and my things. Even if he doesn’t want it, I would still help him and I will keep coming back.

“Drive safely,” I heard him uttered before the door shut closed.

🍁🍁🍁

The next day, I received a text from him asking if I could stay in his unit tonight. My lips pouted as I started typing my reply. Was it really him that wanted me to come over and spend a night in his home? That's new!

“Greatest martyr of this generation, Luna, Sachiro's fxck buddy!” I almost slap my officemate when she peek on my phone and teases me.

“Got problem with that, Olivia? Gosh! You're so loud!” I pressed the send button and put back the phone inside my drawer.

“I just can't believe you, Luna. You could date other men so why are you sticking with someone who can't even see your worth and efforts? You've been his friend since high school and from that point of your life, how come he didn't notice your feelings for him? Gosh! Good thing I never had a guy best friend and I'm not in your shoes, I can't imagine myself falling in love with a man like that!”

Me, too, Olivia. I never thought I would chase after the immovable, Sachiro Hirugami.

🍁🍁🍁

“hmmm...” I was gripping hard on the backrest of the couch while my core is being penetrated by Sachiro's member. I can't remember how or when we started. All I know is, I am loving every touch and kisses on my skin. His strength is dominating my small body. Giving cues and instructions of what I should do to return the pleasures he's letting me to feel freely.

“Gosh, Sachiro! Your moving so fast aahh~” I lost count of the times I had been calling his name since we started. My legs are shaking from being sprawled wide while he pounds me from behind. He was groaning and breathing heavily as he slams his shaft deep and hard into me, the head of his thing hitting the perfect spot.

“Fxck! Fxck! You're so hot inside aaaahh! Aaaahh!” I buried my head deeper against the softness of the couch. He's growing bigger inside me and I can't help but let out a mewl sound of pleasure.

Sachiro keeps slamming his hips against my buttocks. The slapping sounds of skin against skin are getting louder by each seconds. I thought he'd be contented with just thrusting in and out inside me but Sachiro squeezes my breasts harder. I winced from pain and for a moment, I wanted him to stop. Using my left hand, I tried prying his squeezing fingers on my nipple but Sachiro hastily pulls out his cxck from my cunt and without a warning, slams it inside my tight anusxx. A strange cold enveloped my body and little by little, a burning sensation started to follow. That's when I have realized that all the hot nights we've shared together, this was the first time Sachiro have had invaded another hole of my body.

“Sac–Sachiro don’t move aaahhh yet pleasee~” I was crying already before I could even realized it. We've never done analx before! Sachiro pulls out and slams in continuously, not minding how my body shakes from the burning pain.

“You’re aaahhh squeezing me hard aaahhh!” I cannot control this part of my body. I just feel pain and only pain. I can feel it too. My muscles clenching his pumping cxck.

Sachiro continues giving me heavy thrusts in spite of my cries and pleads to slow his pace.

“Sachiro pleaseee aahhh~ I–I can’t take more aaahh!” I yelped when he spanked my hips thrice and then groped my butt cheeks harder than the spanks he had given me.

My body dropped on the ledge of the couch’ backrest, my hands swinging with my body due to his heavy thrusts. I caught a glimpse of my frail situation from the glass door of his balcony. Never in my life I thought I would ended up being his slxt. I’m his best friend. His companion. His trusted ally. How did we end up here? With all my remaining strengths, I managed to withdraw his cxck from my butt and pushed him away while hiding my nakedness under his shirt I picked up from the side.

“Let’s stop!” I cried, hand slapping his hands when he tries snatching my body.

I looked down at his erection and it's still hard and pulsating at the same time. Sachiro stares down at me with his darkened aura. He's really intimidating.

“I’m close, Luna...” his voice rings like a growl, “Be a good girl and spread wide for me.”

When I’m about to snap at him, Sachiro snatches his shirt from my tight hold and pulls my right ankle while pushing me down the couch as he spread and bend my legs wide. My mouth parted when he dips his cxckhead on my entrance and shoves it deep.

I writhed from the suddenness of his actions and all I could do is bite down on the skin of Sachiro's broad shoulder as he starts pumping roughly.

My head tilts to every direction when he started kissing and licking my neck.

“Sachirooo~ I’m aahhh fertile... You can’t cum inside me aaahhh~” I positioned my palms on his biceps, ready to push him if he shows any signs of retracting his thing out from my cxnt.

“Fxck! I'll cum inside you, Luna aaahh! I don’t fxcking care if you're fertile or not aaahh!”

My eyes widened at his words. I started to panic when his thing throbs inside me. That's the signal! He's about to shoot all of his loads inside me!

“Aaahnnggh Noo, Sa–Sachirooo! Gosh! Don’t cum inside me aaahh! Fxck wait! Shxt!”

Sachiro pins my both hands on top of my head, restricting my will to fight.

“Lemme fill you up with my seeds, Luna hnnggghh~” And just like that, I'm shaking my head in disapproval. My body also shakes from his fast and deep thrusts. I'm nearing my climax and Sachiro won't even let me to get away.

I just lay on the couch with my trembling legs. Sachiro on top, pumping even better. Moments later, I can feel his warm loads shooting inside me, filling me up until it drips down from my core.

“You really can’t take all my seeds huh? Look, Luna, our juice overflows from your pinkish pusxy hmm~”

I didn't speak. I just lay underneath him, his weight still perched on my small frame, staringg blankly at the ceiling as I breathe heavily. I feel his fingers gliding under my chin and when he lifted my face, Sachiro rewarded my lips with soft and slow kisses. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, allowing his poking tongue to explore my insides.

.......................

“Sachiro.” I called his name softly.

“Hmm?” He hummed, his head laying above my lap.

I was sitting on his bed while he lays there, eyes closed. It's already two in the morning and we just finished pleasuring each other.

“Want me to sing a song?” I asked, smiling.

Sachiro nods his head and that serves as my cue to proceed.

• All For You

Artists: The Light The Heat

—song starts here— f l a s h b a c k s

You're the one I've waited all my life for

You're the one I'd lose it all and die for

And as the sun transforms into the moon

I pray we'd never lose the fire of our youth

—c o l l e g e d a y s—

Sachiro: Luna! I have a crush!

Luna: It's me, I know! I'm beautiful enough to be your crush.

Sachiro: so much confidence my friend! It isn't you. It's Janna of science department.

Luna: Tsk! What do you want me to do? Build you a bridge?

Sachiro: If that's possible? Why not?

I know I'll never stop chasing your heart

My love is yours to hold

Through every high and every low

Our love will only grow

And I'll be here when the sun sets

And I'll be here till our final breath

My love is all for you

—g r a d u a t i o n—

Luna: Congratulations, my friend!

Sachiro: Thank you, Luna!

Luna: Let's celebrate in your parents’ house, Hiro! I'm missing tita’s spaghetti bolognese.

Sachiro: Uh, I can't, Luna, I have a date with Janna.

Luna: What? You promised me, Hiro! You told me we would celebrate together!

Sachiro: We could do it tomorrow, Luna. Bye! See you tomorrow!

—e n d o f f l a s h b a c k s—

In the darkness, our love shines the brightest

When it's hardest, it won't paralyze us

When it feels like we have lost our way

We may bend, but darlin', we will never break

How long? I asked myself over and over again. How long do I have to endure all the pain? Why can't you see me the way I wanted you to, Sachiro? When will you realize that I keep loving you from the very beginning of our existence? We laughed together. We cried together. We succeeded together. But in the end, it isn't't me you want to spend your lifetime with. It would never be me.

Even as we wait for time to heal the broken parts

Our light will find a way where hope is dim and skies are blurry

Take my hand, and we will feel the wind upon our shoulders

Together, we are stronger

Together, we are stronger

I’m sorry, Sachiro. I know you'll never forgive me after this but it's for your own sake. I would never let you destroy your life. You need help. You need shelter. And those I cannot provide alone.

I know I'll never stop chasing your heart

My love is yours to hold

I dialled a number in my phone. It took me months to think about this thoroughly and now I have decided to finally do it.

My love is all for you

It's all for you....

“He–ello? This is Luna, please ta–take him with you.”

I planted a soft kiss on his forehead, tears pouring heavily from my eyes. Sachiro smiles then open his eyes.

“Thank you, Luna. Thank you for not leaving me,” He whispers while wiping the tears away from my face.

🌼🌼🌼

Seven Years Later

Location: Talinn, Estonia

( mutter means mama/mother in german language)

( Meine Geliebte – My love )

“Mutter, Luna! Mutter, Luna!” I heard my son's voice yelling from outside. I almost dropped the plate I am wiping dry because of the tone he uses. It's so urgent and alarming.

I ran outside and I saw my son, biting his lip and I think he's about to cry.

“What is it, Vin?” I asked, eyes scanning our neighborhood, “where’s your sister? Where's Hedy?”

My son wraps his small arms around my waist and buries his face, “a woman took her, mutter!” he says, sobbing.

“Ssshh, stop crying, Vin, we'll find your twin.”

.......

I'm driving my audi as carefully as I could on the snowy road of Talinn, eyes looking at every corner and establishments I passed by in hope of finding my daughter and her abductor. I glanced on the mounted phone near the steering wheel and the tracker shows she's nearby but currently moving around a specific place in the town. My son's still sobbing from the backseat and I can't think of a better solution to calm him. Good thing I bought them a paired necklace with built-in gps in it. Almost eighty percent of youngsters are wearing the same thing as them to decrease the number of children's kidnap cases all over the world.

“Mutter, what's going on there?” Vin points a finger on the Russalka Memorial, wherein the sculpture of an Angel holding an orthodox cross, erected. A number of people starts to gather there. Out of curiosity, I stopped the car and climbed down the car with my son. Hedy might be there! I thought.

Few more steps and I'm close to the flock of crowds wandering around the bronze monument.

But, out of nowhere, the song I sung seven years ago, started playing all over the place of Kadriorg, Talinn. I stood on my spot, frozen. Heart pounding loudly. Then the crowd opens up, giving way through to the monument. There, I found my daughter giggling while the man I keep praying for to heal up until now is giving his own child a piggy back ride while being accompanied by a dog.

“That’s her, mutter! She's the one who had taken away my sister!” Vin exclaimed then run towards his sister.

Sachiro! I broke down in heavy tears, shoulders shaking as I cried loudly at where I stand. Alisa Haiba, one of our college friend is taking pictures of my daughter and her Dad.

Alisa hands Vin a chocolate and do a finger heart sign. She holds my son's hand and taps Sachiro's back, pointing my direction. Sachiro stops playing with Hedy. He put her down carefully and smiled at me.

Sachiro whispers something at Alisa and the latter nodded her head as a response. He, then, walks towards me. I took steps backwards and think of running but he caged me in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Sachiro! I’m so sorry for sending you in rehab! I’m so sorry for being so selfish!” I never cried so hard in my life. It hurts seeing him here but at the same time, I’m so glad that he's here, looking so fine and healthy.

Sachiro cups my face and adhere our foreheads. He breathes in my scent and I did the same. I missed him so bad!

“Ssshh, I understand, Luna. I should be the one asking for your forgiveness. You bears so much pain alone. A bad man don't deserve an angel like you. You keep saving me even if it's your reputation is at stake. I’m sorry, Luna, sorry for causing you so much pain.”

“I love you, Sachiro! I'll forever do!” I hug him tightly, afraid of losing him again. Sachiro hug me with same intensity and later on he did something unexpected.

Sachiro kneels in front of me, grinning and crying at the same time.

“Will you let me in again in your life, Meine Geliebte?” Sachiro pulls out a ring-sized handcuffs made of gold and adorned with tiny diamonds. He locks our ring fingers between the ring and says, “thank you for saving me, Luna, let me protect you and our children this time.”

🍁🍁🍁🍁

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 30

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 5,379

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

"Chorus?! That's bullshit! There must be some mistake, lemme see that thing," Lea snatched the paper off from where it'd been taped to one of the auditorium doors, causing it to rip a little as he did so.

Sighing, I stretched a hand out to try and retrieve the cast list from him, "Don't be silly, it's fine. It makes sense."

He yanked the sheet out of my reach, squinting at it with a perturbed frown before scoffing. "Makes sense my sweet ass. Where's Marluxia? Me and that cotton-candy-haired punk are gonna have words."

"You'll do no such thing," I finally managed to get my hands on the paper, prying it free of his fingers. Seeing it was now horribly wrinkled to boot, I grimaced and taped it back to the door, doing my best to smooth it back out. Then I slipped my hand into Lea's and started half leading, half dragging him back towards where he'd parked his car. "And it does make sense. They don't know me. They've never worked with me before. On top of that, I did choke a bit at the start of my audition. They can't trust a starring role to someone that's inexperienced and that they're unfamiliar with, not until I've shown them how I do in a background part as well as shown them that I'm capable and that they can rely on me."

"But you were the best one at the whole damn tryouts!" he huffed back. "What are those numskulls even thinking? I tell ya, if I were the director, it woulda been no contest. You'd be the leading lady like that," his fingers snapped.

"You're sweet and not at all biased," I rolled my eyes with a soft snort. "...honestly, I'm actually a bit relieved to be starting in chorus. I'd rather take it slow, ease myself back into theater and not take on too much responsibility right out the gate. It'll give me a chance to feel it out and see if this is something I really want to pursue. And if it is, I just have to put in the time, do the grunt work and by the next time they're putting on another production, maybe then they'll have enough confidence in me to give me a lead part."

Lea harrumphed. "They better. Otherwise I'm gonna kick Marluxia's stupid butt."

I hid a small grin behind my fingers, "He might not even be the one directing next time."

"Don't care. His ass will still be the one I kick outta pure spite."

A snerk escaped me, followed swiftly by a tiny, bubbling laugh. Lea glanced towards me, the corners of his eyes crinkling. As we came to a stop on the passenger side of his car, he tugged on my hand, pulling me up against him. He slipped one arm around my waist while his other came up to tuck some of my hair behind my ear as he ducked his head down, kissing me thoroughly.

Breath? Gone.

Knees? Jelly.

Brain? Mush.

As he pulled away and I struggled to remember how to take in oxygen again, I asked, "What was that for?"

"Just cuz I can," he winked, planting a light peck to my forehead. "You know this whole dating thing we're doing? Huge fan. Ten out of ten. Would recommend."

Face warming, I gave a derisive snort. "Sap."

"Yes, but I'm your sap," he nuzzled his nose to mine before releasing me to unlock my door and hold it open for me.

"Sap squared," I promoted him with a chuckle as I took my seat, reaching for the buckle. "Cliché sap squared."

"Too true. And you wouldn't have me any other way," he beamed before shutting the car door. My eyes followed him as he made his way around to the other side of the vehicle, one corner of my lips twitching up.

No. I suppose I wouldn't.

"Alright, next stop," Lea said as he plopped down into his own seat, retrieving his shades from where he kept them tucked in the sun visor and slipping them onto his nose. Thankfully, it was only his aviators. But I seriously doubted I'd seen the last of those ludicrous heart-glasses. "Lay that address on me, chica."

I fished the little piece of paper it was scrawled on out of my pocket and he tapped it into his phone as I read it off to him. Then the device began reciting directions in a bored monotone, his engine roared to life as he started the car and we sped off. We hadn't even been driving for a full minute before I heard a… peculiar noise coming from the back seat. I blinked, then glanced back over my shoulder. Had I imagined it? ...no, wait! There it was again! And it seemed to be coming from the floor behind my seat, where piled in a rumpled heap was…

"Um…" I quirked an eyebrow at Lea. "...your jacket seems to be barking…"

"Hm?" He was keeping his eyes on the road, but I didn't miss the hint of a smirk tugging at one side of his mouth. "Oh! Yeah, that. It does that from time to time. Needta train it to be better behaved."

My eyelids drooped. "...maybe you should feed it or take it for a walk."

"Nah, that'd only encourage it and then I'd never be able to get the damn thing to quit yapping," he snerked as he stopped at a red light. Then he was reaching behind me to shove his leather jacket aside, revealing a big box, its lid decorated with a frilly bow on top. He hoisted it up with a small grunt and deposited it into my lap. "Here. Was originally supposta be a Congratz-On-Landing-The-Lead present, but now it's more of a Congratz-On-Being-Glorified-Scenery present," Lea chuckled, scratching his cheek.

I lightly swatted at his shoulder. "There are no small parts, only small actors," I quoted with a shake of my head before directing my gaze back to the gift. I could feel it twitching and shifting slightly in my lap as it gave another couple of muffled barks.

Gee. What could it be? I really do wonder.

(Note the sarcasm.)

I was just glad to see several air holes poked into the lid. Come to think of it, Lea had been keeping his windows rolled down too. Sighing and smiling despite myself, I lifted the lid up. Sure enough, a puppy poked its head out to greet me, one that was a super white ball of pure fluff. The same one that's stolen my heart at the pet store when Lea and I had stopped by a while back. The one I'd dubbed Marshmallow. "Lea, no. I told you already that my complex doesn't allow pets." My chiding words were at odds however with my delighted chuckle as I picked the little guy up to hug close. "You shouldn't have gotten me a dog."

"I didn't," he said brightly as the light turned green and he stepped on the gas once more. "I got myself a dog."

I stared at him blankly as I felt the pup flicking its tongue along my chin. "...so wait. In essence, you got yourself a gift to celebrate me being glorified scenery in the play?"

"No, I got myself a gift to celebrate you getting the lead in the play. Not my fault you failed to live up to your half the bargain," he tsked before laughing as I gave his shoulder another smack, this one with more force behind it. Then as we shifted lanes, he flashed a smug grin, "'Sides, keeping the furball at my place gives ya an excuse to come visit me more often."

Petting the puppy's soft fur, I snorted, "Manipulative."

"Hey, what you call manipulative, I call incentive."

"You're right," I hummed as my fingers scritched behind Marshmallow's ear, a sly curve to my lips now. "You're definitely not enough of an incentive on your own for me to make the trip."

"Rude! You're lucky I think you're so cute," he reached over to pinch my cheek. I ignored him, holding the dog up in front of my face so we were nose-to-snoot. Marshmallow wagged his tail, licking the tip of my nose and I heard Lea grumble, "Oh sure. You he gives puppy kisses while all he ever gave me was tooth hugs."

"Tooth hugs?" I echoed, brow furrowing slightly.

"Lil furball's been tearing the shit outta my ankles nonstop," his face pinched sourly and I couldn't help a small laugh.

Once I'd sobered, I said, "I thought you said Saïx would murder you if you ever got a dog. How are you not dead?"

He flicked on his turn signal. "Oh trust me, it's not for lack of trying on his part, but bastard's gotta catch me first. The trick is to never stop moving when I'm home. Stay in one place too long and I'll get pulverized. Also got six different deadbolts locking my bedroom door now to keep him out, though I'm just waiting for him to get pissed enough to Kool-Aid Man his way through our shared wall."

"Hope I'm there to see that," I grinned, shifting to cradling the puppy in my arms in order to maximize belly rubbing efficiency. "Surprised the little guy managed to stay quiet for so long."

"Me too. Squirt was yipping up a storm the whole drive over when I was coming to pick you up. Was worried he was gonna ruin the surprise. But musta just wore himself out eventually and took a nap or something."

"Mm," I just hummed distractedly. "Also kind of shocked you were able to snag him. We saw him at the pet store, what… two weeks ago? Would have thought someone would've adopted him already in that time."

"Heh… well, I didn't exactly pick him up today..."

"Yesterday?" I glanced towards him and he gave a weak chuckle, shaking his head. "Then when?"

Lea scratched a finger behind his ear. "Er… same day we went to the roller rink?"

I blinked a couple times, then deadpanned, "...as in the same day we went to the pet store?"

"That'd be the one!" he nodded as he pulled up to a stop sign, his hand coming up to pluck at the short hairs at the nape of his neck. "After you left to go home, I went back. Ya just liked the lil mutt so much, I couldn't help myself. It was an impulse buy. Five seconds after I became a proud, new dog dad though, I felt like a total dumbass. But woulda felt like shit if I'd tried to give him back, so..." he shrugged, "I kept him."

My gaze returned to Marshmallow as my lips pursed to one side. He panted happily back up at me. "...I didn't see him that one time Saïx had me over for dinner. How'd you manage to hide him?"

"Stashed him away at Xion's for the night. Couldn't risk you finding him and realizing what a twitterpated bonehead I was," he snerked as the car propelled us forward once more.

I bit back a little grin. "But it's okay for me to find out now?"

"Well yeah, course! Since you're my girl and all now. Back before we were dating, me buying your dog was weird and possibly a lil creepy." He shot me a smirk, "But now it's just sweet and endearing!"

"If you say so," I murmured, only listening with half an ear as I smooshed and squished the pup's face.

His head turned slightly towards me and I could practically feel the slight narrowing of his eyes behind his aviators. "...crap, I'm gonna have to compete for your affections with that damn fleabag now, aren't I?"

I struggled to keep a straight face as my finger booped Marshmallow's cute little nose. "Is it really a competition if you've already lost?"

"Oh-ho, I see how it is," he snorted as he checked the rearview. "Well don't be too alarmed if next time ya see me, I'm down one dog and up one pair of a brand spanking new white, poofy earmuffs. The two things'll be totally unrelated. Pure coincidence."

I gave a tiny, amused huff and rolled my eyes. Then I leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for the puppy. You're very sweet."

He ruffled his hair, "Shit, if it's always gonna make you this happy, I'll have to buy myself more gifts!" I made a noncommittal noise in my throat, all my focus diverted once more to playing with the dog. Lea gave a defeated sigh but smiled. Then he asked, "So… how's Anna been doing?"

I frowned slightly. "...okay. She's… better."

The altercation with Hans had been a few days ago now. By the time Anna had gotten through with him, he'd staggered out of my apartment with a limp and a black eye. I hadn't heard from him since, though part of me did wonder if he was just taking time to lick his wounds before coming back to further profess his supposed love for me. Guess it just depended how much of a hard time his parents would give him and how easily he'd break under the pressure.

As for Anna, once she'd spent all her rage on rearranging Hans' face and had nothing left, she'd proceeded to bawl her eyes out. She never took breakups this hard, but apparently she'd really thought Hans was it. The One. After such a rude awakening to the fact that he wasn't and having her heart shattered, I didn't blame her for having a bit of a breakdown. She'd ended up staying over and Rayne and I had turned it into a sort of a girls night to try and cheer her up. We'd binge streamed romcoms until 3 a.m. which honestly, with Anna wailing through every single one, I had no clue if they were making things better or worse. But she was the one who kept putting them on one after the other, so I'd just let her as I hadn't had the heart to deny her.

In the days since, it was obvious Anna was still down, even though she tried to hide it behind sunny smiles and loud laughs. Still, she seemed to be on the road to recovery.

"She's strong," I added softly after a brief lull, fingers absently toying with Marshmallow's paws. "She'll bounce back. Just needs a little more time, that's all."

Lea's phone suddenly gave a small ding, announcing that we had arrived and our destination could be found on the right. Luckily a spot had just opened up on the curb for him to turn the car into. I unbuckled my seatbelt as the engine shut down and opened my door, stepping out onto the sidewalk. My arms were still holding the puppy and I unfortunately had to concede that I probably shouldn't bring him inside. Spinning one-eighty, I set him back down inside the car and he immediately tried to hop out to follow me. My hands shot up to block him and he retaliated with sad eyes and a whimper.

Oh, this little con artist.

Laughing, I stroked his head soothingly, "Now now, Marshmallow, no need for all that… we'll only be gone for a few minutes, I promise."

"Awfully presumptuous of you, naming my new pupper," Lea teased as he appeared at my side now, a paper shopping bag that he'd retrieved from the back seat on his way out of the car now dangling by the handle from his fingers. Rubbing a curled knuckle over his chin as he glanced skyward, he smirked. "I was thinking something more along the lines of…" now he stretched a hand out, dragging his splayed fingers through the air as if the words themselves were magically materializing in front of our very eyes, "...Imperius, the White Death and Destroyer of Worlds."

I shot him a dull look. "...bit long to fit on a dog tag, don't you think?"

"Not if we use really teeny font!" his grin twitched wider and my eyelids just drooped in response. "Fine, fine, ya have a point. Hm… compromise? How 'bout... Marshmallow, Destroyer of Worlds?"

One corner of my lips turned up, "I can live with that." Giving the puppy one final scritch under the chin, I cooed, "Be back soon, Mr Worlds," before locking and closing the car door. As I turned to fully face Lea, it came to my attention that he was now scrutinizing me with a squint and a little frown. My eyebrows knit together. "...what?"

Without a word, he abruptly bent forward and friggin' licked the side of my neck.

With a small yelp, I squirmed and jumped back, hand flying up to clamp over the now damp skin as my cheeks threatened to spontaneously combust. Lea's face twisted in distaste as he spat and razzed his tongue, "Yeck, concealer. Thought so. Knew there was no possible way my masterpiece healed and faded that quickly."

Ah. He was talking about the Mother Hickey. I nodded with a sigh, "Yeah, Rayne helped me figure out how to cover it up."

Stepping closer, he hooked a finger under my chin to gently turn my head to one side so he could take a better look, muttering, "Hmph. Nice job, Raindrop. Matched your tone perfectly, never woulda even known it's there. But also… so not cool. I'm an arteest! A maestro deserves to have his pièce de résistance on display for all the world to see."

"Not when your canvas is my neck, maestro," I snorted, getting on tiptoe to plant a quick peck to his lips as I took the bag from him. Inside it was a powder blue sundress, a pair of ankle boots, and a phone book.

He gave a tiny pout, but it quickly melted into a grin as he took hold of my free hand, lacing our fingers together. "So… you ready for this?"

I spotted the little store we'd come here for and started walking towards it. "Ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."

"Ya sure the dude even wants all this junk back? It's more than a lil used now."

"Well, it's a used clothing store, so I'm sure it's fine," I shrugged.

Lea chuckled, "That old phone book is rumpled from water damage and is practically a rat's nest. No, scratch that cuz calling it that sullies the good name of rat's nests everywhere."

"It doesn't matter," I exhaled heavily. "I told the man I'd bring it all back and that's what I'm doing. If he won't take any of it, then I'm happy to pay him back for it all with interest." On that note, we stepped through the automated sliding doors beneath the big sign that read Wandering Oaken's Trading Post.

The store looked the same as the last time I'd been here. The cluttered racks, the secondhand clothing all but bursting out of every nook and cranny, the rustic decorations on the walls and hanging from the ceiling… all of it exactly the same. It honestly surprised me a little. I would've expected some changes since it felt like my last visit had been absolute ages ago. I had to remind myself that in reality, it'd hardly even been two months since.

I hoped the man (employee? proprietor?) who'd assisted me back then wasn't also exactly the same as I remembered him. All angry and stocky and big. I gulped, feeling my breathing turn shallow as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Surely, he wasn't still mad and wouldn't rip me limb from limb on sight, right? And surely, my memory had to be lying to me and exaggerating. No one, not even Lea, was that hulkingly ginormous… right?

"Hoo-hoo! Big summer blowout! Half off swim su-" the familiar voice immediately cut off as its owner, that same man I'd recalled, locked eyes with me from across the store. "You!"

Nope. He was exactly as terrifyingly ginormous as I remembered him.

Suddenly - and I don't quite know how exactly, because I didn't remember moving - I was hiding behind Lea.

Huh. Seemed like my latent surprise teleportation powers had activated to catch me unawares once again!

Taking a deep, steadying breath to settle my nerves and get a grip, I slowly creeped back out from behind him to respond to the man with a shaky smile and a tiny, "Me?"

He abruptly came charging at me and I swallowed a squeak, screwing my eyes shut.

This was it. The final countdown. The last roundup. I could already see the fabled white light. Was already watching my life flash before my eyes. Could hear an angelic choir singing somewhere. All but feel the-

Those giant tree trunks he had for arms unexpectedly wrapped themselves around me, crushing me to him in a spine-cracking hug that lifted me several feet off the ground and forced a surprised grunt out of me.

Um…?

"What is this?" I wheezed as I was swung to and fro like a ragdoll. "I don't understand what's happening."

Lea snerked, being absolutely zero help as he simply crossed his arms and watched the absolute epitome of bear hugs continue. "Apparently, this is how he deals with shoplifters. His own unique brand o' vigilante justice."

"Well it's cruel and unusual punishment!" I croaked out, kicking my feet and trying to wriggle free. "How do I make him stop?!"

Miraculously, he chose that second to release me of his own accord, shooting me a big smile that took up over half his face, "Oh thank you, deary! Thank you!"

...okay, not quite the greeting I'd been expecting.

Like, at all.

Both eyebrows shot up my forehead as my hand went to rub at my elbow, "You, uh… you remember me?"

"Of course, deary!" he nodded eagerly, tapping his fingertips together.

I squinted at him uncertainly. "...and you remember that I… stole from you?"

More enthusiastic nodding, "Ya, ya!"

...was I the only one totally bewildered right now?

My eyes darted over to exchange a brief glance with Lea, who just shrugged his shoulders.

Oh good, so it wasn't just me then.

Looking at the worker once more, I hesitated for a split second before awkwardly thrusting the bag out to him, heart thudding loudly in my ears as I began, "Well I… I brought it all back like I said I would… even the phone book! It's all still in decent shape… er, except for the phone book, that is. I can compensate you for that though and… and the dress and shoes too, of course! That is, if that's what you'd prefer... and I'll even pay inter-"

"Nonsense!" he gently pushed the bag back towards me. "Keep it all, it's yours. And your munny's no good here."

I stared at him blankly. "...I'm sorry, I'm confused."

The man beamed at me now, "Your dress, deary! The one you left behind in the fitting room and said I could have? I must say, that had to have been some costume party you came from! I sold that gown for enough munny to pay for all four of my sons' college tuitions! So I insist, keep those items! And please let me know if you see anything else in here that you'd like, ya?" A sudden low chime rang out overhead, signalling that another customer had walked into the shop. Gracing me with one final warm grin, he then plastered on his customer service face and walked past me, waggling his fingers in greeting, "Hoo-hoo! Big summer blowout!"

Frowning slightly, I watched him go before I heard Lea say in realization, "...you left your wedding dress here."

My fingers twisted and fidgeted with the bag handles. "Sort of… yeah."

He shook his head with a snort. "Shit, El, a gown like that made for your upscale, hoity-toity, blueblood wedding? You didn't shoplift, you way, way overpaid!"

Feeling heat creeping into my face, I gave a tiny scowl and huffed, "Well, it certainly felt like shoplifting, the way he was yelling and chasing after me when I ran out the store!"

"Babydoll, you just lost some serious street cred," he chuckled, pressing his lips to my temple. "Seriously though, just ditching it in some random fitting room? You coulda sold that thing for bookoo bucks and made this whole striking it out on your own thing way easier on yourself."

"You said the same thing about my car back at my parents' home. But just like with the Ferrari, that dress was bought and paid for with my parents' munny," I sighed, crossing my arms. "I don't want to accept so much as even a single cent from them if I don't have to… I don't want to feel like I owe them anything. And I just… I didn't know what else to do with the dress, really. I just wanted to be rid of the wretched thing."

He tsked, tapping a finger to my nose, "Oh you. Always gotta do things the hard way, huh? Silly." Reaching for my hand, he then started us meandering about the shop, idly perusing the racks and shelves as he went on, "If it'd been me, I wouldn't have thought twice 'bout pawning that dress for some quick cash. What's the big deal where the munny came from? All that really matters is how you spend it to give yourself a better, happier life. Turn bad into good, ya know? I- sweet!" he cried out abruptly, eyes lighting up as he happened upon a clump of feather boas draped across the corner of a chaotic, jam-packed shelf. Snagging one that was made of red feathers marked with black stripes, he wrapped it around his neck with a flourish before batting his eyelashes at me. "How do I look?"

I rubbed my fingers over my tiny smile. "Beautiful. Simply gorgeous."

"Damn skippy!" he chirped, now spotting a full length mirror nearby and moving to admire himself in it.

From insightful to kid playing dress-up in under two seconds flat. That had to be some kind of record.

Seeing that the employee had returned to his post behind the cash register, I walked over to him. "Hi again. How much for one-"

There was a sudden giggle at my ear that was distinctly Lea's, followed swiftly by a second feather boa being looped around my neck, this one comprised of blue feathers with white tips. With that, Lea zipped off once more, this time heading towards what looked to be the toy shelf.

I blinked in his wake, then shook my head with a soft hum of a laugh. "I'm sorry, how much for two feather boas?"

"Holy shit, this orca action figure comes with a tiny machine gun! And-" Lea gasped, running back now to excitedly show it to me, "-it also turns into a goddamn freaking robot!"

Patting him on the cheek, I turned back to the cashier with a sigh, "And the toy too."

"For you, deary?" he asked, still happily tapping his fingers together. "Free of charge!"

My head rocked back slightly. "What? No, but-"

"Oh hell yes! Thanks, big guy, and have a great day!" Lea cut me off, snatching up my hand and bolting out the store, forcing me to stumble after him as the cashier called out after us to do the same.

As we exited through the automated doors back out onto the sidewalk, I said, "Lea, wait!" I dug in my heels, bringing us both to a lurching stop. Then I frowned over my shoulder back towards the little shop. "I'm not comfortable with this. He's only giving us this stuff because of that stupid dress and I told you already-"

"Don't look at it as benefiting offa your folks munny," he grinned, taking the bag from me to tuck the toy and his boa inside with the other stuff. Then he set to work uncoiling mine from around my neck. "Instead, try this on for size: ya did a good thing with that dress. Maybe even the best possible thing ya coulda done with it. You donated it to the worthy cause of paying for the education of that dude's small army of kids. And if that's not enough for you, here's another way to look at it: ya traded in a wedding dress worth a sultan's ransom and all you got in return was a handful of cruddy, secondhand junk that altogether costs maybe twenty bucks max. On the divine cosmic scale of ethics, I think you can consider your conscience clear and your heart light as a feather."

Now fully freed from the feather boa, I released a tiny huff through my nose as I watched him slip it inside the bag too. "Well, when you put it that way…"

"It's settled then," he beamed, slinging an arm around my shoulders and guiding me back towards his car. "Now onto the next item on the list!"

My head tipped to one side. "There's more? But with this place checked off, I thought that was the whole list."

"Maybe your list, but we haven't even begun to scratch the surface of mine. And first up is immediately correcting one epic fail on my part."

"Oh?" I arched an eyebrow at him.

He nodded, "Mm-hm! For ya see, I've been grossly neglectful in my boyfriend duties. Can you actually believe I have yet to take you out on our first proper date since officially becoming a couple?"

A tiny smile fought its way onto my lips. "For shame. The absolute scandal."

"I know, right? People are already beginning to talk, my good name is being dragged through the mud," he puffed out an overdramatic breath, shaking his head.

I laughed. "Well then, what did you have in mind?"

As we came to a stop next to his car, he tapped the window glass where Marshmallow was pressing his paws up against the other side while barking his little head off. "For starters, how 'bout we take this lil fellah to a park somewhere for a few hours? Once he's all played out, we can drop him off back at my place. Make it real quick, in and out before Saïx wakes up and realizes he's been unknowingly volunteered for doggo-sitting duty." Setting the bag down on the roof the car, he then faced me, taking both my hands in his as he idly started toying with my fingers and murmured, "Then I was thinking I could take ya somewhere nice. Maybe Le Grand Bistrot? And after that…" he gave a lazy shrug, that dimple of his emerging, "well, guess we'll just see where the night takes us from there."

My eyes crinkled as I stared up the few inches that separated us. "Sounds perfect."

It'd been one wild and, at far too many points, absolutely absurd ride that had brought me here. And it was far from over for I still had a long road ahead of me. I'd yet to even determine what exactly I wanted the future to hold for me, and that was okay. I could hardly be expected to have the rest of my life already planned and mapped out after experiencing only a couple short months of freedom. Come now, that would be unrealistic.

But it didn't truly matter that nothing was really decided yet. What mattered was that I was the one who would get to decide, no one else. And for the moment, I was just deciding to focus on what was immediately before me. Today, I had a date with my boyfriend. Tomorrow would be a shift at my job in a mall ice cream shop. And the day after would bring the start of rehearsals for community theater. All in all, it was nothing grand, nothing fancy… but it made me happy. And for now, that was enough. More than enough. I could figure out the rest in my own time, and that sounded pretty good to me.

In fact, it sounded absolutely amazing.

THE END

…sorta?

Author's Note:  And thus we come full circle... it ends where it all began way back in chapter one... cheesy, I know XD Okay, I rarely finish stories and thus I don't have a lot of experiencing doing it, so factor that in however you will in judging this final chapter xD I know, it was stupidly, cavity-inducingly sweet and not a lot happened, but damnit it's my story and I'll end it how I want to! Oh, and the toy Lea found wasn't a reference to anything, it was just something stupid I found on the internet that I figured the goofball would go absolutely nuts over xD

So, you probably have questions about that "...sorta?" at the end there xD Well that, my friends, has to do with the good news I mentioned that I had for ya'll a couple chapters back! Although the big, main plot of the story is now complete, there will be *drum roll*... bonus chapters! Wooo! These are more like self-contained one-shots that generally have time passage between them anywhere from a few days to like a month with no real overarching plot connecting them, which is why I'm not considering them a part of the "main" story. However, I will still be just slapping them at the end of this story, keeping it all in one place as opposed to posting them as separate fanfics, just because I can! I do what I want, yo! These bonus chapters will cover various events (relationship and non-relationship alike) for our new happy couple - as well as some that are just for pure funsies due to random ideas popping into my head that I really wanted to write xD I just always write the "how they got together" story and have never written them as a couple, so I'm excited to finally have a good excuse to do that! Plus now I can share with you guys how things go from here - stuff like relationship milestones, fam drama, Elsa's further adventures in theater, and much more! If you guys have any ideas of your own for a one-shot you'd like to see, please let me know! I make no promises about actually writing it, BUT there's a very good chance I'll read your suggestion, the plot bunnies in my head will go wild and I'll have no choice but to write it anyway xD 

ANYWAY! I already have written and completed a few of these one-shots, so my once-a-week updates can continue for a little while longer! But fair warning - when (not if, WHEN) my updates catch up to as far as I've written, my once-a-week updates will be reduced to whenever-the-chapter-is-frigging-done updates xD

Whew! I think that's a wrap! Thank you so much for reading my lil story here, I super duper appreciate it! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far! Seeing those lil notifications pop up always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

See ya next week for the first bonus chapter, which is a silly, for funsies one-shot xD I'll give you a hint... helmets are involved! Ooooo, what could it be?! Stay tuned and find out!

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[ghostly-cabbage]

Frigid (Chapter 2)

Genre: Horror, Angst

Chapter Rating: M (Language, gore)

Word count: 4,391

AO3  FFN 

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Today is really stressful, but hopefully this makes someone out there feel better. Enjoy and tell me what you think!

*

Danny flew through every room in the school, even the basement, but the unidentified ghost was gone. He pushed a gloved hand through his hair and swore under his breath. Just his damn luck. At least he’d caught the mountain lion ghost in the thermos. At first glance he’d thought it was Bertrand and Spectra, but that theory had been dashed. The big cat had got him good but it didn’t seem to have any intelligence beyond a wild animal. 

He’d looked long enough that the ghost alarm had been turned off and people started heading back into the building. It was also long enough that his wound had melded together, and the stains on his gloves were the only evidence he’d sustained an injury in the first place. That too would be gone the next time we went ghost. 

He slipped through the wall of the bathroom and dropped down into a stall to transform back. He poked his head out through the door of the bathroom to make sure no one was paying attention. Everyone was too busy trying to figure who’d seen the ghost to care. It was normal for people to hide in the bathrooms during an attack anyway. Right. First things first, he had to put the thermos back in his locker. Classes would resume in a few minutes. 

Sam and Tucker were waiting at his locker when he got there. They perked up when they saw him. 

“Who was it this time?” Sam asked. 

“I don’t know, it was a new ghost,” he said, trying to seem less troubled than he was.

“Ghost Gage readings put it at a level six,” Tucker reported, turning his phone around to show Danny the readout graph that did in fact place its power level around a six.

“What was the reading on the other one?” 

“Let’s see…” Tuck fiddled with his phone for a second before finding it. “Four and a half? A five at first.” 

“A new ghost, huh? That hasn’t happened in awhile,” Sam pointed out. 

“Tell me about it,” Danny unlocked his locker and set the thermos on the top shelf, safe until after school when he could flush the ghost back into the Ghost Zone. “She didn’t seem to know who I was, which is a good thing I guess.” 

“Well, hopefully they won’t come back after you send ‘em back into the Ghost Zone.”

“Yeah…” He rubbed at the back of his neck as he closed his locker. “About that. I sorta only caught one. The level six hightailed it before I could get her pinned down.” Danny started to walk towards his next class. 

“So what’s her deal?” Sam fell into step on his left, and Tucker on his right. 

“I don’t know, I didn’t get much from her. She had one of those stick things that sheep farmers have though.” 

“A shepherd's crook?” Sam supplied.

“Yeah, that. She didn’t say anything to me either, just... screamed.” It wasn’t that odd that a ghost wasn’t very talkative, but something about her was rubbing Danny the wrong way. 

“Creepy,” Tucker said. “I’ll start a file on the ‘Shepherd’ then.” He tapped on his phone as they walked, not even bothering to watch where he was going. Danny reached out and grabbed Tucker’s elbow to phase him through a trash can just before he toppled into it. “Wait, was the scream anything like your wail?”

Danny shook his head. “No, that’s the thing guys, she didn’t directly attack me. Just her lackee mountain lion.”  

“Huh. Well, with any luck, the next encounter will get us some more solid data. Cause right now we’re lookin’ pretty sorry. She wasn’t around long enough to get a read on her core type either.” Tucker's face was wrinkled in concentration. 

“We’ll take what we can get, thanks Tuck.”

“I should really start charging you for my services. You know how much work all this is?” He waved his phone at them.

Danny laughed. “You wanna do my job instead?” Tucker was quiet for a second. 

“Yeah, not a chance.” 

“You sure? I could go find Desiree for old times sake,” Danny suggested with a shit eating grin. Tucker narrowed his eyes at him. 

“Dude. Low blow.” His tone was good humored and easy. One of the perks of being friends so long. They shared a smile and Tucker punched his shoulder. “Alright, I got History, see you guys,” he gave them a two finger salute and peeled off. 

“Did you do the algebra homework for today?” Sam asked as Tucker left. Danny felt his breath seize in his throat.

“There was algebra homework already?” He squawked. 

“Relax, I’m kidding,” she laughed. 

He put a hand over his heart and let out a huge breath. “Sam, don’t do that! Gave me a heart attack, are you trying to kill me again?” 

________________________________________________________________

After algebra Danny had chemistry. He said goodbye to Sam in the hall and headed to the science lab. When Danny got to class Wesley was already there. He was sitting at their table staring a hole into the white board at the front of the room. 

Danny thought back to the last time he’d seen him, cornered against a locker and eyes filled with terror. He dropped his textbook on the table and Wes jumped so violently Danny was surprised he stayed on his stool. His expression morphed from fear to annoyance as he looked at Danny. 

“What’s wrong, man? You look like you saw a ghost,” Danny said. A part of him almost felt bad for going for such an obvious jab, but Wes had made it clear on day one that he didn’t like him. So why be nice? Danny used his foot to drag his stool out and he slumped onto his seat. 

“Ha ha,” Wes replied, voice brittle. He resumed his staring contest with the whiteboard. Danny shrugged, unbothered. Kids came in and took their seats in small groups. Valerie was in this class too, and came in two minutes to the bell. The two still had an unspoken truce that translated into mutual respect. It was pretty close to a friendship. At least when he was Fenton. She came up to stand next to his desk, books tucked in the crook of her arm.

“Hey, Danny. Did you see the ghost today?” From the corner of his eye he saw Wes glance towards them. Val seemed to notice the attention too. “Just curious, from what I can tell not many saw this one. Which is weird for us.” In his last class all the students had been buzzing about the ghost attack, it was the first one of the new school year after all. Everyone had been speculating on which ghost it was and whether Phantom had shown up. 

Danny shook his head. “Sorry, Val. I was on the other end of the building and evacuated with everyone.” 

“Hmm. Okay, thanks.” Danny could see the gears turning in her head, probably frustrated she didn’t get her hands on it /or/ him, but she didn’t say anything else, and went to sit down at her table. Danny could feel Wesley’s eyes on him, and he sighed, turning on his stool to look at him. He was probably going to regret this.

“Lemme guess, you have questions.” Wesley looked reluctant but no less pissed. 

“Everyone just… Accepts that ghosts are a thing here?” He said it in a low voice, like he was afraid of being overheard by someone. 

“Uh. Yeah? Pretty much. Most people anyway. It’s been like this for like two years so… Yeah, people are kinda used to it by now.” 

Wes looked confused and conflicted. He was silent for a beat, before he asked his next question. “What can you tell me about this Phantom guy?” If Danny had been drinking something he probably would have choked on it. 

“Uh. I don’t know, what do you want to know?” 

“Who is he? Why is he here? What’s so special about him?” 

Danny blinked at the barrage of questions and struggled to find words. “Well, he’s—” the last bell rang and Mrs. Merriweather stood up from her desk. Danny almost sighed with relief. She pushed her rounded glasses up, and soothed down her pencil skirt.

“Alright kids, find your seats and settle down. We’re going to review lab safety today, and tomorrow we’ll be starting our first lab. Also the scheduled ghost drill will still be taking place, and because I detest the regulations I’m going to go ahead and tell you it'll be around 2:15 during this class.” She walked across the classroom and flicked off the lights. The projector hummed from its place hanging from the ceiling and Mrs. Merriweather wasted no time hopping to her powerpoint presentation on proper lab etiquette. Danny took the opportunity to shoot a text to Sam and Tucker about the ghost drill. At least this way they didn’t need to be on high alert. Besides, Danny had practically grown up in a lab, he knew this stuff backwards and forwards.

Wes glanced sideways at him, but said nothing. Danny shoved his phone back in his pocket and slouched forward onto the table. He stifled a yawn and struggled to keep his eyes open. A nap sounded fantastic at the moment, he’d been up half the night trying to talk Kitty through her recent fight with Johnny. Jazz said he should try and be helpful and build trust so they were less likely to take out their lovers' quarrels on him. Not having to get smacked around was all well and good but he wasn’t a ghost therapist. That was way more Jazz’s wheelhouse. He’d never say it out loud, because he’d never hear the end of it, but he missed her.

“Mr. Fenton.” Mrs. Merriweather had her hands on her hips. Crap.

“Yeah?” 

“What did I just go over?” 

“Uh… eye protection?” 

She sighed. “Danny, what part of this seems unimportant?” 

“None of it! Er, I mean, all of it? It is important, but I mean it’s not like I can even use any of this stuff anyways so…”

Mrs. Merriweather pinched the bridge of her nose. “And why do you think that is?” Annoyance squirmed in his stomach. “Not because I don’t know anything about lab safety. I know how to be safe in a lab, it’s not rocket science.” 

“Well, since you know everything there is to know, then you’ll be happy to hear that I’ve just decided to give the class a quiz tomorrow on this powerpoint.” There was a satisfied twinkle in her eyes, and Danny swore she loved to torture kids, and being a teacher was the only legal way she could do it. The class broke out into groans. 

“Nice going, Fenton!” Someone spat from behind him. He wanted to phase through the floor and just go home. 

“Pay attention or get detention everyone!” Mrs. Merriweather warned them. It was her favorite thing to say. She turned back to the slide show and continued her spiel. 

The ghost drill was nothing unusual. Despite knowing it was coming, most of the class still jumped when the alarm started, Danny and Wes included. They all evacuated the building and stood outside in the school yard the exact same way they would a fire drill. It was a waste of time, especially since they’d already had a ghost attack today. 

Thankfully, Wes had slipped off to stand with a guy that looked like his older brother, if the resemblance meant anything. Wes probably didn’t want to be seen talking to him if there was any other option. Danny had to hand it to him, he caught on fast. What that also meant was he didn’t have to try and fumble his way through an entire conversation answering questions about Phantom. Danny just hoped Wes ended up asking someone who had a more progressive opinion on him, someone like Paulina, or hell, even Dash. 

Danny spent the last of the drill hanging with Sam and Tucker. The obnoxious sirens had shut off at least. Danny hated those things, his parents had recommended and got approval for the installation at the start of school last year, along with a state of the art ghost detection gadget. After the third “false alarm”, courtesy of him, they got rid of the ghost detection in favor of the manual alarm buttons. That had been a rough week. Danny hadn’t known a peaceful ghost fight at Casper since. 

Eventually the drill was over, and the teachers started ushering kids back into school for the last period.    

“So, what’s going on after school?” Sam asked as they were funneled into the entrance.  

“I’ll probably swing by my house to drop my stuff off, then I’m gonna look around town, see if I can’t find that new ghost hanging around anywhere.”

“Pizza at my place after?” 

“Aw hell yeah, Sam! Wings too?” 

Sam rolled her eyes. “Yeah sure, Tucker, you can order wings. Just keep them away from me, will ya?” 

Danny snorted. “Sounds like a plan, I’ll text when I’m on my way.”

“Or if you need help with that ghost?” she added sternly. 

“Yeah yeah, fine. That too.” He waved a hand dismissively at her. 

_______________________________________________________________

Tucker and Sam walked home with him like they normally did, exchanging goodbyes and “see you later”’s at his front steps. They continued down the street as Danny pushed into his house. He took a deep breath, relaxing into the familiar smells of home. It was weird, not seeing Jazz on the couch with twelve open textbooks taking up all the space on the coffee table. He headed for the kitchen, his empty stomach not willing to wait for pizza later. He dropped his bag by the banister so he could pick it back up on his way to his room later. 

When he walked into the kitchen, his mom looked up and brightened. She had a bunch of papers all laying out on the dining table, some in piles and some splayed out in an order that probably made sense to her at least. She didn’t have her goggles on, instead she had them pushed back like a headband.

“Hi, sweetie! I didn’t even hear you come in. How was your day at school?” 

 “Fine,” he said with a noncommittal shrug. Danny walked past the table to the fridge. As he passed he noticed that the papers were readouts and raw data sheets. Some looked like her own notes which featured the words “ghosts”, “core”, “ecto-signature” and the like about a dozen times. It wasn’t exactly abnormal for his parents, but it did peak his interest.  

He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a can of strawberry soda and an apple, enjoying the feeling of the cool air on his face. He nudged the fridge door closed with his foot and turned towards his mom. 

“So,” he took a bite of his apple, “what’re you workin’ on?” Normally his parents kept all the research down in the lab, unless of course they were close to figuring something out, and were running out of counter space down there. He walked back over and pulled out a chair to sit.

Over the years he’d gotten somewhat closer to his parents. Well, he was more confident in his secret keeping ability now, which was what it boiled down to. Plus, it was advantageous to try and keep track of whatever ghost obliterating tech his parents had come up with this time, which was easier to do if he acted interested in their work. Especially now that Jazz was gone.

His mom’s grin got even wider at his question and he could tell she was bursting at the seams to talk about it. She put her pencil down, and swept up her mug to take a quick sip. It was white with Fenton Works plastered across the side.

“Ghost cores!” She set her mug back down, and pulled her goggles off her head. It let loose a few locks of her red hair that she quickly tucked behind her ear. “So, as you know all ghosts have power cores,” she shuffled around in her research, looking for something in particular. “Except, all ghosts have different power core ‘types’.” 

“Uh-huh,” he nodded along as if it was all new information. He took another bite of his apple. 

“So! Your father and I are working on not only a better method of categorizing ghosts that takes into account their power level but also the type of elemental core they possess. We think if we can find more commonalities and differences it will help find more exploitable weaknesses.” She found the page she was looking for and offered it to him, standing to lean over the table. Danny set his snack down and took the page to skim over it. It looked like a bunch of data on ghost’s with their power measurement, core type, temperature, ectoplasmic density, each a value that was plugged into an algorithm that spat out a number for a final threat level. 

“See, before, we would base an ecto-entities power level solely on the output of the ectoplasmic energy, but with this algorithm, we can have a more in depth understanding of the possible damage a ghost could do and how to counter it.” 

“Hence the ‘threat level’ rather than just ‘power level’?” he said glancing up at her.

“Exactly sweetie!” Her eyes softened as she looked at him. “Oh, you and your sister, you’re both so smart.” She came around the table to brush his bangs out of his face, and squish him in a one armed hug. “I couldn’t have asked for more perfect kids,” she said and kissed the top of his head before releasing him. He forced a smile. She said that now, but she didn’t know what he was. Who he was.

“Now, the issue is trying to find all the core types.” She leaned a hand on the table to look over his shoulder at the paper he was holding. “So far we know about fire, electricity, ice…” She held her chin thoughtfully. “And despite what the core may be, that doesn’t always mean their powers are a direct derivative, the applications of a core type can be extremely varied with only a thin connecting thread,” she muttered. Danny almost didn’t know if she was still talking to him, or just thinking out loud. “I’m doing research on what determines a ghost's core type. So far the leading theory is based on how they died. We think it’s the main contributing factor but I need more subjects to find anything conclusive.” 

If that were true, he’d have an electricity core. The thought made his breath stick in his throat and a cold sweat break on his forehead. Danny went to open his soda— or he would have, had it still been liquid. Instead there was a thick layer of frost on the outside of the aluminum where he’d been holding it, and the contents were frozen solid, bulging the top and bottom of the can. Yikes. He shot his Mom a panicked look, but she was thankfully too absorbed in her thoughts to notice. He handed her back the paper before he froze that too. 

“Sounds pretty cool, Mom. Welp, I gotta go do some reading for class so—” 

“Danny-boy!” Boomed his dad’s voice. He winced and turned to see his Dad coming up from the lab. 

“Hey, Dad.” 

“Helpin’ your Mom with some good ol’ fashioned ghost research are we?” 

“Actually I was—” 

“Maddie, I did what you asked! I tore the whole lab apart, but I still didn’t find the Fenton Ghost Gage anywhere.” Uh-oh. Danny slowly got up from the table and went to make for the door. 

“That’s odd, I swear I left it by the control panel a few weeks ago...” It was quiet for a moment. “Danny—” he turned back around, feigning ignorance with every ghostly molecule of himself. “—have you seen the Ghost Gage sitting around anywhere?” 

The New and Improved Fenton Ghost Gage was a relatively new invention, which actually worked pretty well. Except of course for the glitch that registered a level ten plus ghost in the house. His Mom had theorized that it was because of the proximity to the Ghost Zone that it was giving the off the charts false reads, and left it sitting in a tub of inventions to be tweaked. It was now safely placed between the drywall and plumbing of Casper High, sending it’s readings directly to Tucker's phone. Of course they’d already made the modifications for it to read core types, thanks to Tucker.  

“Nope, sorry. Have you checked the couch cushions? Or the fridge?” he suggested. 

“Of course! The couch! Good thinking, Dannio!” His Dad clapped him on the back with so much force the soda can flew from his grasp, and promptly exploded on contact with the tile floor. Right. Frozen soda explodes. Idiot. 

The outside had been completely frozen, but apparently on the inside it was slush, which was now all over the floor, the walls, the ceiling, and the three of them. It looked like a sugary crime scene. He quirked a nervous smile.

“Oops?” 

________________________________________________________________

Thankfully the soda caused only minimal damage to his parents research papers, but by the time he was done helping clean, the soda on his clothes had dried and gone sticky. Looked like there was no easy phase clean for him. He excused himself upstairs under the false pretense of doing homework and was gone the next minute. 

Time to find that ghost. 

The wind whipped through his hair and whistled past his ears. It was getting colder by the day and he loved it. The leaves on the trees would start turning soon, turning Amity into a collage of colors. If it weren’t for school, he’d love fall. 

He made it to Casper in a minute flat, and started his search there. The weight of the thermos was a constant reassuring weight on his hip as he circled outward. If she was lurking anywhere, his ghost sense would let him know. He flew up and down streets, block after block, but he was getting nothing. Well, unless he counted the people on the street that whooped and pointed at him as he flew past. 

He’d just gone by the Nasty Burger when a crackling bolt of energy zipped past him and punched a hole through a billboard. He recoiled and adrenaline flared through him; or whatever the ectoplasmic equivalent was. He flipped around to see a familiar ghost hunter. 

“You never learn your lesson, do you, ghost?” Valerie growled. 

“I’ve never been the best in school, so I’m gonna say no,” he said with a grin. Another blast shot past him, but he didn’t give her the satisfaction of flinching. 

“Shut up, I know you were at Casper today. What can you tell me about the new ghost?” Danny huffed. He and his friends weren’t the only ones that had the school bugged. 

“You probably know about as much as I do, Red. She was gone almost as soon as I got there.” 

“Like, I’d buy that!” Despite her helmet he could tell she was just as pissed as ever. He splayed his hands in a placating manner. 

“Honest, why else would I be out here combing the city?” 

“How should I know what you’re planning? You’re probably out here waiting for the opportunity to ruin someone else’s life.” 

Danny groaned. “Seriously Red, I said I was sorry like two years ago, you need to learn to let stuff go.” Danny liked to think that deep down she knew he wasn’t there to hurt anyone. She certainly didn’t like him, but she had at least started giving him an opportunity to explain himself before trying to waste him. Baby steps he supposed. 

“Back at’cha, ghost.” She lifted her blaster and it whined as it charged. Welp, decorum was over for the day. He went intangible and rocketed through the billboard. Once on the other side he went invisible and tore off in a different direction. He knew she could track him, but it was worth the few seconds it bought him. The sound of her jet sled roared as she gave chase. 

Pink charges of ecto-blasts peppered his flight path, near misses and wildly inaccurate alike. He zig-zagged, holding onto his invisibility and intangibility as he slipped through buildings. This was the easiest way to lose her, she had to take the time to skirt around huge objects, or waste the time to go straight up allowing him to widen the gap. Not to mention, while intangible the lack of wind resistance put his speed at around 130 Mph. Last time they’d checked at least. 

Once he was sure he was far enough away from Val to have dropped off her radar, he turned and headed for home. He phased through his window and transformed back, flopping onto his bed. He’d been all over town and hadn’t got a single whiff of the new ghost. At least Valerie was on it too. Still, it didn’t make it any less frustrating. 

He glanced at the clock on his nightstand which read 5:10. He’d check for the ghost again after dinner with Sam and Tuck, maybe then he’d at least be able to avoid Valerie. For now, he could really use a break.      

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Family Matters (Zelda Spellman x Reader) - Part 33

Synopsis: It’s the final showdown.

Words: 1670

Warnings: violence, gore

AN: I have really fallen down the rabbit hole of TikTok. Come follow me over there under the same name. We’ll be done with this story by the end of the week. Enjoy the final push. Lemme know if you wanna be tagged.

Zelda was standing, facing the door, shot gun in hand. Her body was tight, coiled like a spring. You had your back pressed against the wall, watching her eyes sweep over the outside vista.

You’d had Ambrose lock your family in the morgue, the safest place in the house. He was standing guard outside, a cross bow in hand. Zelda had tried to send Sabrina away to the mysterious Academy, but she’d refused to leave her family behind when danger was coming to their doorstep.

Zelda had wanted to lock you up too, keep you safe from Bella. You had slipped away before she could, hiding away in your room as you tried to remember anything that you’d heard from Bella about how to hurt a vampire. It was all muddled with the myths mortals told and you couldn’t sort the fact from the fiction. But there was something you needed, a single hope left.

You stood out of sight, knowing it wouldn’t help when Bella eventually showed her face. She’d be able to hear your heartbeat, smell your blood, see you in the dark. You were hoping she’d focus on the Spellmans, classing you as no threat. Being underestimated had been how you’d succeeded your entire life. Wide eyes and an open face made people think you were too innocent to be a threat.

You stood at the top of the staircase, looking down on the entrance hall. Zelda looked fierce, a lioness protecting her tribe. Hilda stood off to the side, her fingers twisting together in front of her, the picture of anxiety. Sabrina stood to the other side, her teeth gritted, her eyes focused on the door. You were all waiting for Bella to appear, but you assumed it wouldn’t be politely through the front door. Wind whispered through the house and you shivered.

“How sweet,” a low voice drawled, “the family that slays together stays together.”

You pressed back against the wall more insistently. You’d heard that voice in your dreams, in your nightmares. It haunted you.

“It is too bad that it shall all be for naught,” the voice continued.

Zelda tightened her grip on the shotgun, raising it. Sabrina took a deep breath. Hilda let out a small squeak.

“Tell me, Zelda Spellman, was all of this worth it?”

“It will be once you’re gone,” she responded.

Bella appeared in front of Zelda, teeth bared and hatred in her eyes. She brought up one hand, her nails long and sharp. Her long dark hair streamed down her back, her skin pale in the sunlight. Her eyes flickered up to your hiding place, a smile taking over her features.

“It’s too bad that shall not be happening.”

Zelda fired the gun, the sound deafening. You flinched, closing your eyes. When you opened them again Bella was gone, Zelda flushed with rage. You rushed to the bannister, looking down on the scene trying to find her.

“You look delicious, mi amour.”

A cold hand wrapped around your neck, jerking you back. Your body was thrown aside. Your back slammed into the wall, your breath rushing from your body. You fell to the ground, groaning. You got up on hands and knees, trying to crawl away. A booted foot landed on your back, forcing you back down.

“I’m surprised you let your pet out for this, Zelda Spellman,” she called down, “I know how you feel about other people touching your toys.”

Another shot rang out. Wood from the building rained down on your head but the booted foot was long gone. You sat up, coughing. You crawled to the edge of the landing, looking down on Zelda. Her eyes flashed as she saw you.

“I told you to hide,” she hissed.

“I couldn’t let you face her alone,” you replied.

“How touching,” Bella drawled, now on the stairs between you and the witches, “and how misguided.”

Wind began to whip around you. A large vine crashed through the stairs, wrapping around Bella’s body. She looked startled as the vine began to constrict around her. You heard something crack, loud, like a gun going off but Zelda hadn’t moved. Bella was lifted into the air, her feet kicking. You watched, surprised it had been so easy.

With a roar, Bella ripped the vine apart. She fell back to the stairs as the vine withered up and died. She pushed herself to her feet, levelling a glare at Sabrina. Her hands were raised and a shocked look was on her face. Zelda stepped forward, putting herself between the vampire and her niece. You climbed to your feet, clutching at the wooden bannister.

Bella took a sauntering step down the stairs. Her body looked wrong, one side of her rib cage crushed in. Her body was twisted, leaning to one side. She took another step down the stairs, a feral grin overtaking her face. Zelda snarled.

“I remember learning that spell,” she said, “child’s play.”

“You know spells?” Sabrina asked, taken aback.

“Did neither of them tell you?” She looked up at you, “before I was bitten, I was a witch. A fun little experiment. Or at least I was until I murdered my sire.”

“You were a witch?”

“You're not as bright as your aunt, are you?”

She reappeared behind Sabrina, her arms tight bands around her.

“Shall we see how fun those vines can be?”

Huge vines smashed through the floor, sending Zelda across the room. They caught her, pulling her up into the air. She was whipped backwards and forward, the gun clattering to the floor. You screamed.

You watched as flames flared to life around her, consuming the green plants. It withered, pulling away from her. She fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, not moving. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Leave my family alone.”

You looked down, finding Hilda standing in the no man's land with her hands raised.

“No can do.”

Bella’s fingernails scraped along Sabrina’s cheek, blood welling in their wake. It dripped down, black and toxic looking. You watched as veins appeared along her skin, dark and pulsing. Hilda readjusted her stance.

“Leave. Us. Alone!”

Flames erupted around Sabrina, her eyes rolling back in her head. Bella disappeared again. Sabrina fell back, the blackness in her veins moving faster and faster. She began to convulse on the floor, pink foam appearing at her corners of her mouth. The flames still flickered along her skin, beginning to catch on the destroyed carpet.

Bella grabbed Hilda, sinking her teeth into her neck. You gritted your teeth, watching her drink from the motherly witch. She fell, her skin going pale. Hilda scratched at Bella’s face, trying to get some kind of hold. Bella grabbed one arm, snapping it as easily as a twig. It hung limp at her side. Bella grabbed the other doing the same so violently you could see the bone poking from her flesh. You felt your stomach roil.

She let Hilda go, slamming one of her feet into the blonde witch’s leg, shattering it. She glanced down at it before turning back to Zelda. You watched her crouch over her body, pushing the hair from the witch’s face. It was such a tender gesture you felt off balance in the carnage. All you could hear was Hilda’s whimpers and Sabrina’s gurgling. Blood and rot was heavy in the air.

Bella lowered her head as if to kiss the unconscious witch. You knew this was the one chance you had. She was distracted enough to not bother paying attention to you. And why would she when you were nothing but a pathetic mortal?

You flung yourself from the balcony, raising the wooden stake you’d kept hidden in your room since arriving. You had assumed it would be your guarantee should Bella come to visit you at the mortuary. It was the ace up your sleeve, your only protection.

You slammed into her body, the stake burying deep in her back. Black viscous liquid pulsed out of her body, coating your hands in a sticky substance. She fell aside, leaving Zelda’s body. You fell with her, pain radiating up from your feet. The jump had been too much, even with the added padding of Bella’s body. You fell off her, watching the black blood stream from her heart. She turned her head to look at you.

“Oh mi amour, you should have realised I was a liar.”

She grabbed you around the neck, squeezing. You grabbed her wrist, trying to pull her off you. She laughed, throwing her head back as her hold tightened on you.

“A stake through the heart?” she mocked, “we are far stronger than those stories you mortals tell mi amour. Did you truly believe I would tell you how to kill a vampire?”

“You might not have told her, but you told me.”

Bella turned too late, meeting Zelda’s flame covered hands. She screamed as the flames licked over her skin, leaving nothing but ash in their wake. She let you go, sending you to the floor. You scrabbled back, trying to get air in your lungs again as you watched her body burn. Her skin was bubbling before disappearing in a cloud of ash.

Exposed bone showed through as her skin melted away. She was screaming, the sound horrible, grating in your ears. It ended in a pitiful gurgle, a pile of ash all that was left. You looked up into the fierce eyes of Zelda.

“You are to never do that again,” she said.

“I was trying to save your life,” you replied.

She grabbed your face, crushing her lips against yours. You clutched at her, never wanting to let her go.

“What the hell happened up here?”

You turned, finding Ambrose standing at the top of the stairs to the morgue. He was looking from you, to Sabrina, to Hilda.

“We have taken care of Bella,” Zelda said.

“You think you may want to help Hilda and Sabrina,” you said.

“You think?”

Tags: @theenglishwizard @eyesofanangeltongueofadevil @hallospaceboyy @alexusonfire @justkeepbreathingnow @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @r0sethehat @praisezeldaspellman @escapetodreamworld @panicnymph @anxiousgoldengirl @theprassebox @witchessticktogether @vintageolives @plooffairy @whostoknow @spicyrice20 @fallenangelmuse @step-intoyour-power @basicwitchtm @lovelyleafylesbian @saucy-sapphic @zeldasnackman

[shamelesslypoetic]

Not Today

Wordcount: 1.5k

Pairings: Blink and you’ll miss it dukexiety. Logince, could be read as one-sided but I think of it as returned ;)

Warnings: Embarassment, some self-deprecating thoughts, vague ending, Roman being a gay train wreck you can't look away from

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

‘Fashionably late’ was Roman’s latest statement these days and though Logan didn’t necessarily like it Roman thought he must still have some sense of agency against the increasingly hindering crush he’d developed in the past few months. 

Right now, however, he couldn’t help but agree as he ran out of theatre practice to the cafeteria, desperately trying to catch some time with Logan before his next class. His heart pounded in his chest, skin prickling with nerves as he glanced down at his wrist and promptly disregarded the clock, it was all gibberish and he only wore it because Logan had got it for him anyway.

The bustling cafeteria pulled the theatre loving geek in with all its colorful chatter and smiling faces, the laughs behind them bubbly and inviting. 

This school was his home, and had been for as long as he could remember. 

Still, in favor of finding some random group to hang out with, his eyes scanned around the crowded spaces for one person in particular, bumping shoulders good-naturedly and ignoring a scowl here, a biting retort there until he finally  found his target.

The impossibly cute and endearingly rambly Logan, sitting alone in a far table with his closed fist propping his cheek up and a book open in front of him, had his eyes closed. Roman’s heart swelled at the sight, workaholic stupor having forced the object of his affection into an unplanned nap. Logan always pushed himself to such states and then some. That determination and sharp intelligence etched itself across the bruised quality of his amor’s eyelids and it was enough to knock Roman off his balance. He sank into the bench and started yammering away to quell the force of the longing inside him. 

“Hey there, sleeping beauty!” Roman trilled loudly, the arm sliding against the table pushing a food tray away as he bumped the other sophomore’s shoulder. 

Logan started, letting out a very dignified yelp as his eyes snapped open and his shoulders rose in alarm. 

“Hold on, your glasses are smudged,” Roman noted, squinting. “Lemme just...” He raised his hands up as Logan barely had time to turn and took the glasses off his face. He delicately held it between his hands, words pushing out of him in a flurry far too passionate for the present situation, especially seeing as one of the would-be participants of the conversation had yet to manage a word in the wake of his crazed Chemistry partner.

“Ro-Roman?” 

Roman blabbed on, acutely aware of his companion and trying not to show it with every ounce of his Disney adoring being, going off, piling on the words blocking his ‘I love you’ from exploding out of him. “Classy guys such as yourself can’t be seen like that, no siree.” Roman trained his gaze on the thick-rimmed square frames in his hands rather than the strong tea brown that typically looked through them. 

“Roman?” Logan said again, impatience trickling into his voice of elegant fountain pens on parchment paper. 

“But don’t worry I gotcha,” Roman continued a train of thought from earlier that he was sure his chemistry partner hadn’t quite caught as he cleaned the lenses, but the glittering sing-song coming out of him just wouldn’t stop. “Nerds gotta look out for each other, right Lo? Of course I’m right who would you possibly sacrifice this ravishing company for--”

Logan persisted, “Roman!”

Roman turned his head as he let go of the edge of his shirt, “Whaaaat?” His drawl broke off into a flustered noise between confusion and awe as he fully alighted on the bare face and the slightly skewed necktie. “Whoa-uh...”

“Roman you startled me!” Logan said but Roman wasn’t listening, too lost in sharp edges and a jawline spawned from a knight’s sword, accented by arching, sweeping eyebrows and perfect, dark eyes. The wannabe actor’s breath caught in his throat as his mouth fell open and an itching blush quickly creeped up his nose. His hand trembled in pure gay disaster style as he took in the exasperated face in front of him once more, eyes hungrily tracing every dimension as if he could learn all the edges, as if he could fold the memory into his brain to call it whenever he wanted if he stared long enough. And yet, he was afraid if he got any closer like he so wanted to that wherever his skin touched the other’s it would come away hot and colored bright crimson. Just like the blush across his face. 

Logan gave Roman a weird look as he felt his face redden, wordless in stark contrast to the way he’d just been chatting away with all the conviction of a hummingbird that somehow managed to learn human dialect.

“Why are you staring?” he asked, a hand cautiously coming to Roman’s arm. “Is there something on my face?”

Roman didn’t answer, far too transfixed and a note of worry knotted the other’s words, the elegant, incredibly sophisticated voice all Roman could now hear. Everything else, the chatter, the bustle, fell muffled under Logan’s melodic words, all but white sound to the theatre enthusiast.

“Roman?” Logan said again and tightened his hold on the boy’s arm, the feverish skin underneath poking out from the cuff of his letterman jacket’s sleeve. 

Logan slid his hand down to check Roman’s roaring pulse and a rolling shiver coursed through Roman the way the cool assured hands felt holding him. It was too much. The press of skin without any space to spare, the absent sweeping of Logan’s thumb, the way it fit so perfectly on Roman’s vien as if it were already carving out a place there. Too much for Roman’s frail gay heart. 

Before the older of the two sophomores could say anything more, his glasses shot across the air and Roman slapped them onto his face with a force that had Logan reeling backwards, hold on the other faltering as he sputtered, “Ah!” he gave a sharp cry, blinking rapidly. 

“Roman, what the fuck!?”

The word Logan would normally never use for its rudeness escaped him by his temper and Roman finally stirred which was arguably worse than the state of frozen horror as his mind chanted shit shit shit shit! and the frantic, uneven thu-thump carried on against his ribcage. 

“I, I gotta go!” he stammered, grabbing his bag from the bench and neglecting the unicorn notebook falling from it. 

Logan stared at him, a purple blossom  appearing on the slope of that perfect pointed nose, hitching Roman’s breath as he held onto his bag’s strap.

“Sorry, Specs, I’d love to stay but I’m gonna be late for my next class at this rate, and not even fashionably so!” 

Shut up, shut up! The last of his common sense hissed as he backed away, bumping his hip against the table and wincing more at Logan’s incredulous face than the impact. “Love these get-togethers, babe!” OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE! 

Roman could see it now, the hole he’d dug himself, gaping wide in the middle of a graveyard where he’d soon be put out of his ineloquent misery and then buried, never to be seen embarrassing himself again. “O-Okay, see you around, bye!”

He ran, because really what else could Roman have done, when all compliments and flattery drifted from him every time he found himself in front of someone so damnably handsome, when he was confronted by feelings he normally only mimicked? 

So, blind and deaf to all around him, his feet carried him to the Chemistry lab, early for once. The Chemistry lab! 

Roman mentally prepared his will, his plushies would go to Princess and his writings would be published with not an extra edit and he’d have to tell someone to apologize on his behalf for teasing the emo in seventh period about his crush on his twin: Remus. Who would have nothing, because he’s a stinky bastard.

Roman steeled himself with little more than sheer pride as he took a seat. But then he ended up folding his arms on the metal desk and putting his head down. He pretended to sleep for the whole period. 

Which is not to say that his skin didn’t warm as Logan took his place beside him, that he didn’t want to apologize for such stupid behaviour, that when Logan told him -- “Sorry, for, for yelling at you back there, I can have the worst temper and you...you tend to...exaserbate that.” -- he didn’t sheepishly smile but none of it mattered, not even when Logan slid the notebook toward him with a whispered, “You forgot this.” 

Why? Because he was a coward. For all his bravado and pomp, he was an utter fool for Logan and a coward on top of it.  

He’d tell him in time. He’d tell him pretty poetry and have flowers in his hands, he’d scour the shops for Logan’s outlandish favourite of gladiolus and preferably also take him out somewhere nice, that new diner perhaps or stargazing in that meadow on the outskirts of town. He’d tenderly hold his face and ask if that’s okay and then he’d lean in and kiss him, slow and sweet, chaste and gentle. A bit far reaching and maybe even presumptuous. But feigning sleep gave plenty of time to daydream.  

One day Roman would tell Logan that it was his own otherworldly looks that turned his dramatic classmate into a bumbling, savage mess. But not today. 

Today, Roman would apologize. And that would have to be enough somehow. 

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

A/N: Another one based on art by @sleepy-starling because I'm unoriginal. Hope you like it and that the words are treating you well whether you're reading or writing them! ^^

[infallicide]

Happy Valentine’s Day, Uncle

“What? No nice boys?”

“Who says it’s the boys? Maybe it’s me!”

Hizashi pops the last bite of his pizza into his mouth and turns to you, knee against your thigh, arm still pillowing the back of your head. He looks over you and nods.

“Not you.”

Relationship: Uncle Hizashi Yamada(Present Mic) x GN! Reader Words: 2,232 Tags: incest, couch sex, Hizashi is a creepy uncle, but reader is sorta into it.

You’re alone on Valentine’s day.

Your parents are out for the night, you’d chosen not to listen when they explained where they’d be, instead you denied the mental image and you’ve chosen to enjoy a movie on the couch in a big t-shirt and little shorts for comfort. You fumble with the idea of dinner, but a knock on the door digs you out of the menu on your phone. And on the other side, your uncle seems to have read your mind.

“Well hello there, kiddo!” he holds up a box and you can’t help but crack a smile, “your parents told me they left you here, I’m amazed you answered the door, I thought you’d be havin’ a fun little Valentine’s date of your own.”

“And you still came over?” you step back to leave him in, “gross, uncle 'Zashi.”

You laugh with him as he closes the door.

“Good uncles keep an eye out for their favourites! Can’t have someone treating you anything less than perfect!”

You roll your eyes, but it’s endearing. Hizashi has always been your favourite. Sometimes, your cousins questioned it, even friends had made comments about how he is with you, but it’s been so long, you never questioned it. Sure, he’s a little hands on, but it’s not creepy, he’s just affectionate! You settle beside him and he hands you a can of soda, but he gives himself away when he’s not wearing his sunglasses. His gaze is on your legs; it slides over them honey slow and he darts his tongue over his lips as if it’ll give him the smallest taste of sweetness.

“I’m not actually interrupting, am I? Hanging out in just a t-shirt sounds like good draw for a boyfriend.”

“Nah, the TV is my boyfriend.”

He thinks for a second, but you cut him off.

“Don’t say it.”

“Say what?”

“I don’t know, but do not.”

He howls with laughter and swings his arm across the back of the couch. The movie plays, and for a while, you simply eat in silence. Then Hizashi breaks it.

“Why don’t you have a date?”

You shrug.

“Don’t wanna.”

“What? No nice boys?”

“Who says it’s the boys? Maybe it’s me!”

Hizashi pops the last bite of his pizza into his mouth and turns to you, knee against your thigh, arm still pillowing the back of your head. He looks over you and nods.

“Not you.”

“What?”

“Look at you!”

“What?!”

He leans in, closer than is even usual for him.

“Look at you; you’re the prettiest little thing. Anyone who doesn’t see that is a fool.”

His hand rests on your knee a moment. A friendly gesture. Then it sneaks higher, higher, until the bottom of your t-shirt brushes against his fingers. Less friendly. Your face must give away your hesitation;

“Don’t tell me no one has touched you even like this!”

“No! I mean, yeah, they have but it’s…” your words trail. What is stopping you?

“You worried I’m gonna ruin anyone else for ya?” his smirk twists to one that’s just a little too cocky.

“N-no, just...you’re my uncle.”

“And who knows you better than I do?”

He has a point. When his fingers poke under your t-shirt this time, you don’t flinch as much.

“I can take care of you,” his head dips and rests against your shoulder, his lips only a hair’s breadth from your neck, “y’want me to be your Valentine, hmm?”

“I-I’m not sure…”

“You always gave me Valentine’s cards when you were a kid, what’s so different now?”

He cups your sex and you whine.

“A lot! I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t-” your sentence dissolves to another whine when he kisses your neck and presses his hand against you just a little more firmly.

“If you really want me to stop, I will,” he kisses a trail between his words, “but you didn’t even try to cover yourself after seeing your uncle at the door. You gonna tell me you don’t want me, huh?”

He pushes your underwear aside and presses a finger against your already wet hole.

“Oh, you were just waiting for this, huh? You’re as gross as I am, little bird; all ready for your uncle.”

Little bird. An old familiar nickname.

Before you can argue, his finger slips inside and his lips press to your neck again. You try to swallow your hushed moan, but it’s impossible; a second finger joins the first and he knows just how to move them. Your hands tangle in his hair, forcing it out of that looped half tie that’s always seemed so pretty, and he groans against your neck when you give it the smallest tug. But with it, he pulls away, and you wonder how that could be too far when he’s got two fingers inside you. They slip from your hole and he savours the taste for a moment before he turns, sitting normally, straight forward on the couch. Sickening drips of disappointment slide through you and you hate yourself for it. Until you realise he’s fumbling with the buttons of his jeans.

“On your knees; lemme give you another little present.”

You move before you can think. And from here, your uncle looks much bigger, like he did when you were a kid. He shuffles his jeans and underwear lower, and at last, his cock springs out and you swallow. You ignore your mind when it repeats that this is your uncle, this is wrong, this is sick. Instead, you lean forward without prompt from him, and lick a stripe up the pierced shaft of him.

“Oh ho ho, you’re a naughty one, aren’t you? You’ve been practicing, huh? For your uncle?”

You don’t answer. You suck the tip of him until he groans again, and descend on him like you’re starving for it. He hits your throat, and you hear the first words of an apology, a dismissal in case you can’t take it. But you cut him off as you swallow him a little deeper and look up at him as well as you can like this. Tears prickle and tease the corner of your eyes and when his hand cups your cheek, his thumb wipes it away.

“ Fuck, little bird, you take it like a champ. Bet you’d let me fuck that little throat of yours until you couldn’t talk, wouldn’t you?”

You nod and his hips snap forward; a small taste of what that could be.

“I’ll take you up on that some other time, birdie. Come up here, sit on your uncle’s lap.”

You stand, legs shaky, but he stops you before actually sit on him. Sneaky fingers slip under your t-shirt again, and he pushes your underwear down your legs until it falls to the floor. It all feels so practiced, so planned. He has his hand on your hip again, and the thumb of the other hooks the front of your shirt and tugs so he can get a look.

“Pretty little thing,” he breathes out the words, “turn around, babe.”

You do, uncertain of his motives, but a hand on your back gives you just enough of a hint. You bend over, spread your legs, and with your hands on the coffee table, your hole is completely on display for him. Between your legs, you catch sight of his hand on his cock, fisting it in quick jerks while he stares. You look away, embarrassed, but there’s a sensation, unfamiliar and surprising, and you realise he’s pressing a sloppy kiss the same hole his fingers had spread.

“So fucking cute and sweeter than candy,” he murmurs before giving your rear a quick bite. His hands, massive on you, grab your hips again.

“Knees on the couch,” all politeness is dropped.

It’s awkward and you’re a little clumsy, but your knees are at either side of his thighs and you keep yourself steady with a grip on his knees. He pulls you down by the hips, slowly, slowly, until the head of him pokes against you.

“Point of no return, little bird.”

He’s offering you an out. It warms your heart, and your brain screams to take it, but your body has no interest in ignoring something so good and so freely given. You press your hips down, but he stops you.

“Turn. Sorry. I wanna see that pretty face when I fill you.”

Another quick shuffle and you’re on your knees, facing him this time, with your hands on the back of the couch to brace yourself.

“Oh you look good on top of me, sweetheart. Come on now, little lower,” you lower yourself, this time working with the tug of his grip and again, he pokes at your entrance. His tugging stops and you take the lead. Inch by splitting inch, you take him. His head falls back against the couch with each one, his jaw slacks, and his only words are a quiet “fuck” when your ass is against his thighs.

“Feels like you were made to take me,” he chuckles through the words. You know he doesn’t want to force you, but there’s a squeeze on your hips again.

You raise your hips and drop them and you’re met with a shuddering breath. His throat bobs as he swallows, but his eyebrows give away his feelings more than anything. Apology.

“I’m sorry, birdie, I can’t hold back anymore.”

He slams himself into you and you choke out a moan. You hoped your control would last, but he’s stronger, he’s faster, he’s more experienced, and most of all, he knows exactly what he wants from you. Thrust after thrust, the heat in your stomach grows, you squeeze around him when you can, you even sneak in a few kisses to his throat in retaliation for his earlier ones. But your moans have mingled in the air; they’ve brought forward fantasies and confessions and they’ve forced your arms around his shoulders and his arms around your waist and you’re nose to nose with him as he fucks into you like he’d die without it. Between moans and grunts, words slip out.

“Fuck, baby, yes !”

“No one else s’gonna touch you, no one, mine, say it, say you’re mine!”

“Love you so much, love you so much, say it, lemme hear it, w-wanna, I need it!”

All peppered with your name moaned in a tone you’d never expected from your uncle. He sees the blotches of blush, hears the change in your moans, and he knows what you need. He changes his angle just a little and with one hand, plays with your most sensitive spot, the one that makes your back arch and your voice high.

“That’s it, little birdie, you wanna cum for me? Yeah? You wanna cum all over me?”

You nod - it’s a frantic movement and your nails dig into where they meet his shoulders.

“Tell me.”

“Wanna cum all over you, please please!”

“Hmm…dunno if that’s good enough,” he chuckles and kisses your cheek, then his gaze fixes between your legs again. Once more without thinking, you cup his cheeks and you press your nose against his.

“Wanna cum all over you, please, I wanna feel your cum in me too, fuck, please, Uncle ‘Zashi,” you kiss him before he can respond, but the groan that rumbles through him is enough to know his answer.

His fingers move faster, his other hand moves to cup the back of your neck, all but crushing you against him while his tongue demands to tease yours, and his cock rubs you just so . All together, it’s too much, it’s too good, and you moan his name into his mouth as the heat from your stomach darts to your extremities and pleasure follows each ripple. His hips don’t slow for even a moment; the fingers that were against you leave(thankfully; it was becoming too much) and that arm wraps around you. You savour his grunts and huffs and moans mingled with the slap of skin on skin. You kiss his jaw, his neck, his earlobe, anywhere you can reach until his hips stutter and he’s so impossibly close but there’s something stopping him. And you know exactly what.

“You’re so close, come on, cum for me?”

He moans your name, you know he’s right there.

“Fill up your little birdie, please, uncle ‘Zashi.”

“Fuck!” his voice breaks and he whines as he pulls you right down against him as his cum fills you and you moan against his ear.

“Thank you thank you, oh my God , thank you, uncle ‘Zashi.”

Breathless, he rests his head against the back of the couch again, and when you stand, your legs are jelly.

“Where y’goin’, kiddo?” he asks with his gaze fixed on the thick globs of cum slipping down your thighs.

“Wanna get cleaned up.”

His face drops for a moment, but you hold out your hand.

“Come with me?”

He stands so fast, he almost falls and you laugh at him.

The consequences can wait. You’re going to enjoy every sordid moment you can until the sun comes up.

He wraps around you in the shower and his fingers play over your skin under the guise of cleaning you. And corny as it is, he presses a kiss to your cheek and whispers "happy Valentine's day, little birdie."

[katrinawritesthings]

Jonghyun/Taemin; The Knee Pit; NC-17

rockets in here after four months of no fics and slam dunks this on your dash! You’re Fucking Welcome

“Dude,” he says. “dude, how weird do you think it would be if I fucked, like. Your knee pit?” he squishes Taemin’s knee in demonstration as he says it. Taemin looks at him blankly for a second, then at his knee, and then back with wide eyes. 

“Extremely weird,” he says. A wide grin spreads over his face. “Do it.”

Jonghyun is feeling some kind of way that he doesn't really know how to describe, but it's some kind of way that he feels like would be benefited by some form of snuggling, so it's with purpose that he gets off of the couch and shuffles down the hallway towards the bedrooms. Minho and Key are out, and Jinki’s door is closed, so it's his and Taemin’s room that he peeps into in the hopes of finding someone.

And find someone he does: Taemin himself, sprawled out on his tummy on top of all of the covers, messy black hair all over a pillow and eyes closed. Sleepy snuggling is okay too, Jonghyun thinks, so he quietly steps into the room, wiggles out of his jeans, and crawls daintily on top of the bed. Carefully positioning himself on top of Taemin, he lowers himself down to lie on him and nuzzle in between his shoulder blades.

“Oof,” is what Taemin says when Jonghyun does this. Jonghyun jumps, just a little, before continuing his wiggling to get comfortable. Oops.

“I thought you were sleeping,” he says. Otherwise he would have asked. “Sorry,” he adds.

“Not sleeping, just thinking,” Taemin mumbles. There's shuffling and then a tired hand paps Jonghyun’s butt gently twice. “It's okay,” he says. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Jonghyun says. He moves his arms to fit his hands under Taemin’s shoulders so he can hold him better. Taemin groans quietly under his weight, but not an uncomfortable groan; Jonghyun knows that he likes to be squished like this. If anything, the noise that comes from Taemin’s chest is a little husky, a little pleasured, almost like the noises he makes during sex. And Jonghyun knows that they're not having sex right now and that this is one of the least sexy situations he's been in for at least a week, but at the same time, with Taemin under him and his body warm and his voice so deep and his booty, Jonghyun notices quite suddenly, directly under Jonghyun’s dick, he finds his emotions quickly turning from vague snuggliness to definite horniness.

So suddenly and so horny, in fact, that he just straight up pops a boner right there. He lies there, his dick hard in his undies, Taemin under him, and thinks. This sure is some kind of emotion that he's feeling right now. He doesn't think sex right now would be bad, honestly; he doesn't really think sex at any time is bad, but. It feels like it would be real tacky to just invite himself on top of Taemin and then ask to fuck with no other preamble.

On the other hand, he knows that Taemin wouldn't mind, so he asks anyway.

“Hey, can I fuck you?” he asks at the same time that Taemin asks, “Dude, do you have a boner?”

There's a moment where they're both silent; then it's followed by another moment where they're both laughing, Taemin harsh and braying and Jonghyun loud and breathy. Then there's another moment where their giggles fade out and Jonghyun is just left smiling against the back of Taemin’s shirt.

“So can I?” he asks, wiggling his hips against Taemin’s booty. Taemin’s next breath, instead of being a steadying one, is instead a slow hiss of more laughter. Then he turns his head so he can look at Jonghyun over his shoulder.

“I don't know,” he says apologetically. “The last time I bottomed it was, like.”His eyes dart up like he's trying to remember. “that time Jinki and me got smashed on my birthday,” he says eventually with a little grin. Jonghyun rolls his eyes. He remembers that. “And that was forever ago and I don't really feel like doing all of the work that would go into bottoming right now,” Taemin shrugs.

“That's fair,” Jonghyun says. That makes sense. His request was real sudden. Still, so was his boner, and his boner is still there, which is kind of a problem. He doesn't get the kind of boners where he can just ignore them and they'll go away like Minho does. Moving his hands out from under Taemin and planting them on the mattress, he pushes himself up so he can sit on Taemin’s thighs. Then he puts his hands on Taemin’s booty, rubbing and squishing it gently and trying to think. After a moment, he scoots back just a little bit so he can feel up Taemin’s thighs instead. “Can I fuck your thighs?” he asks hopefully. Thighs are nice to fuck also and don't require any fingering or anything.

“Uhhhhhhhh,” Taemin says, “sure.”

“Sure?” Jonghyun asks brightly, not believing his luck. Taemin pushes himself up as well, back arched as his legs remain underneath Jonghyun, still smiling over his shoulder.

“Sure,” he says again. “why not. Lemme get on my back.” He turns halfway until Jonghyun happily moves off of him, and then flops over to his back, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn. Then he lifts both legs and kicks them lightly in the air. “Undress me, father,” he demands.

“All right—” Jonghyun says, stopping halfway through leaning towards the bedside table for the lube to lean back and throw a sharp frown and point in Taemin’s direction. “Do not start that fake Daddy shit with me, I'm not Key.” Key might think it's cute when Taemin acts like a little gremlin and pretends like he's into Daddy stuff but Jonghyun isn't here to be called a Dom, even in a joking way. He's too tired to deal with that. Taemin smirks at him, eyebrows wiggling up and down.

“Sorry, Mommy,” he says innocently. Jonghyun narrows his eyes. That's better, but still. And still again, he just rolls his eyes and goes back to his Lube Quest because he knows that the more he tries to tell Taemin not to be a gremlin, the more gremliny Taemin will be. It's one of the things that he loves most about him. 

He just grabs the lube and then scoots himself to the end of the bed, grabbing Taemin’s ankles and pushing his legs up and out of the way so he can situate himself comfortably just behind his cute booty. He swats Taemin’s little gremlin hands away from the hem of his sweats and just tugs them down himself, leaning way back to pull them off of his legs and then throwing them in the general direction of the hamper. What's left are Taemin’s boyshorts, patterned with little dicks and tight enough on his frame to outline his soft ween. Jonghyun pokes it gently through the fabric.

“Do you want these off too?” he asks. He knows Taemin has that thing about creaming himself where sometimes he thinks it's the hottest thing on the planet and other times he despises it with every fiber of his being. Taemin shrugs as his answer, reaching down to readjust his dick better in his undies. 

“No,” he says, “they can stay. I don't think I really feel like getting a boner anyway, so.” he shrugs again. Jonghyun hesitates with his hand halfway to his own undies. Oh. He kind of thought that. When he mentioned fucking in general that. Taemin would be into it and would want to nut also. Taemin notices his hesitation, because he smiles comfortingly and reaches between his legs to tug on the hem of Jonghyun’s boxers himself. “It's cool, I'm just real lazy right now.” he says. “Fuck my thighs so I can tell you your dick is cute,” he adds.

“Oh, well, when you say it like that,” Jonghyun smiles, blushing a little bit at just the thought. If Taemin is chill about it then so is he. He shimmies out of his boxers and tosses them the same way he tossed Taemin’s sweats. Taemin pokes the very tip of his ween, wiggling the pad of his finger against the hole.

“Cute,” he smiles, and Jonghyun shivers from both the compliment and the tingles that fizzle up his cock. 

He gathers both of Taemin’s legs together, hooking his knees over his left shoulder and holding them there with his arm. Popping the cap of the lube, he fumbles a little clumsily to squirt some out with one hand. Quickly he gives up on getting it into his palm and decides to change tactics, squidging it between Taemin’s thighs instead and rubbing them up gently. He smooths the lube around, biting his lip at the softness of Taemin’s skin, at how warm it is, how slick and shiny the lube makes it look.

While he does this Taemin watches, hands placed behind his head, eyes hooded, smile wide and sleepy. He rubs his thighs together too as much as he can from this position and shifts his hips to be closer to Jonghyun. Jonghyun feels like maybe he's spending a little longer than he necessarily needs to to feel up Taemin’s thighs, but neither of them are complaining, so he only stops when his dick throbs particularly hard at him like it's getting impatient. Then, he tightens his hold on Taemin’s legs, smears the rest of the lube on his hand onto his cock, and presses the head of it to the seam of Taemin’s thighs.

Immediately, Taemin makes the most overdramatic, overacted moan of pleasure that Jonghyun has ever heard. He snorts loudly, laughter bubbling out of his lips as he leans forward to steady himself with his right hand on the mattress, cheek leaning against Taemin’s knee. He doesn't get to appreciate how it feels when his cock pushes warmly in between Taemin’s thighs because he's busy laughing, but he really doesn't mind. Taemin is so great.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says, looking up at the gremlin underneath him. Taemin smiles back lazily, clearly proud of himself.

“Feels nice,” he says, just as innocently as before. And just as before, Jonghyun rolls his eyes as he straightens up.

“You're real good,” he says fondly. He readjusts his grip on Taemin’s legs, one hand around his shins, the other hand holding his hip, and starts to actually fuck his nice soft warm thighs.

It's lovely, wonderful, divine; just like he thought it would be to have Taemin’s legs squeezing together, squeezing his cock in between them, everything slick and easy with the lube as he slowly rolls his hips to savor the experience. Every time he fucks all the way in so that their bodies press together and the head of his cock peeps out at the other end of Taemin’s legs, Taemin reaches down to rub his thumb over it. Jonghyun feels all tingly all over. He's having a great time, he has to admit. 

Taemin is too, by the looks of it. His eyes are closed, but the hand still by his head is pushing through his hair, pushing it out of his face and pulling it gently. Jonghyun can see his chest moving with breaths under his sweater and he keeps biting his lip and then letting his mouth fall open. Jonghyun is just starting to wonder if Taemin is getting more into this than he thought he would be when Taemin sucks in a sharp breath and reaches further down to tap quickly on Jonghyun’s hand on his hip.

“Wait wait wait, fuck, stop, real quick, fuck,” he hisses. Jonghyun stops, amused, his dick all the way in between Taemin’s thighs and his eyebrows raised. Taemin breathes heavily, covering his face with both hands and swallowing hard. Then he shakes his head and sits up halfway to clumsily take off his sweater. He throws it on the side of the bed and flops back down in just his black tank-top, running both hands through his hair and looking sheepish.

“I forgot how sensitive my thighs are,” he grins. “Fuck, I’m.” He reaches down again and pulls his own dick out of his undies, holding it in his hand and jerking himself off slowly. “This is like, real hot,” he says. He opens his legs just enough to wipe his hand on the inside of his thigh and get it all lubey before he returns it to his dick. Then he crosses his legs as he rests them back over Jonghyun’s shoulder, so that they're pressed even tighter together. “Keep going,” he commands.

“Aye aye sir,” Jonghyun says on a laugh. He gets his hand around one of Taemin’s knees to hold his legs steady and pulls his hips back, ready to start going again.

And then, before he can formulate the thought to thrust back forward, another thought formulates in his head instead and he hesitates. Rubbing his thumb over the underside of Taemin’s knee, over the soft muscle and thin ligament or whatever that is, he gasps softly.

“Dude,” he says. “dude, how weird do you think it would be if I fucked, like. Your knee pit?” he squishes Taemin’s knee in demonstration as he says it. Taemin looks at him blankly for a second, then at his knee, and then back with wide eyes. 

“Extremely weird,” he says. A wide grin spreads over his face. “Do it.” he lifts his legs off of Jonghyun’s shoulder and very gently kicks him back so he can put his feet on the bed. He also reaches the hand not around his dick out for a high-five, which Jonghyun slaps on to his palm eagerly. Hell yeah. He loves that both of them can have these ideas and that both of them will just go with it. They enable each other so much better than the other three do. 

Jonghyun grabs the lube from where he left it at the foot of the bed earlier. Staggering a little bit when he hops off of the bed, he turns and grabs Taemin, picking him up bodily bridal style and moving him to the edge of the bed, grinning smugly when Taemin yells in surprise and then laughs as he's dropped back down. When he bends his knees so his calves press against his thighs, they're at the perfect height to match Jonghyun’s dick.

Jonghyun, biting his lip with excitement, squishies some of the lube out onto his palm, then taps Taemin’s knee to get him to lift his foot and expose his knee pit. He slaps his hand on there unceremoniously and rubs the lube around, Taemin snorting into his fingers the whole time. When Taemin lowers his foot so his leg comes back together again, though, he instantly grimaces, shoulders scrunching up high like a turtle.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh, don't like that. Wow.”

“What?” Joonghyun asks, concerned. Taemin shakes his head, smiling again and slowly stretching and bending his leg.

“I didn't think about. What having a lubed up knee pit would feel like,” he says. “I'm over it,” he adds. “put your dick in there.”

“Okie dokie,” Jonghyun says. That's an order that he doesn't have to be given twice. Clapping his non-lubey hand on top of Taemin’s knee, he holds his dick in his other hand and guides it into the seam.

It slips in between Taemin’s calf and thigh just as easily as it did his thighs with the help of the lube, and it's a very similar experience, but at the same time, extremely different. He hesitates once he gets all the way in there, the head of his dick again peeping out on the other side. He pulls back and thrusts back in a couple of times and then hesitates again. It's not exactly what he was expecting and he doesn't know if that's good or bad. On the bed, Taemin is giggling into his hands.

“Keep going, it tickles,” he grins.

“Does it really?” Jonghyun laughs, using his hands to move Taemin’s knee back and forth instead of doing the work himself. As an answer, Taemin laughs harder, covering his whole face with his hands. He nods, black hair bouncing, and lowers his hands to expose a wide, toothy smile.

“This is so fucking—”

“Hey do you two want to go see—” Both of them whip around to look at the bedroom door as it opens without a knock, Key’s hand on the knob and Key’s face looking blankly at them. Jonghyun freezes, his nerves stopped up with a mixture of embarrassment and absolute hilarity at what this must look like to Key. Taemin, on the other hand, starts giggling harder than ever. Key looks at them for a long moment, then rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “Never mind,” he says.

He closes the door behind him, but not before Jonghyun snaps back to himself and shouts, “Wait!”

He takes his dick out of Taemin’s knee pit—it makes a slick little squelching sound—and scuttles to the door, grabbing the handle and wrenching it open. He sees Key halfway down the hallway and calls out again.

“Go see what?” he whines. “I want to go! Are you going to the movies? Take me with you! Kibummie!” he wails dramatically. “When did you even get home? I thought you were out.” He’s so flustered and upset and confused and still horny. “Give me like ten minutes and then I'll go with you,” he yells.

Key turns the corner of the hallway into the living room, shaking his head, but before Jonghyun can call after him some more, Minho’s head pops around the corner instead.

“What are you yelling for—oh my god.” His eyes look over Jonghyun, stop at his hips, and then he covers his eyes with his hands. “Why the fuck are you like this, dude,” he says, disgruntled.

 “Wha—? Oh—” Glancing down, Jonghyun realizes that he didn't put his dick away before he just launched himself out into the middle of the hallway. “Fuck,” he says, and ducks back into the bedroom, where Taemin is currently rolling around on the bed, clutching his stomach as he laughs extremely loudly. Jonghyun finds his own laughter rising up and falling out of his lips as he leans back against the door. This is not where he expected to be when he rolled off the couch twenty minutes ago looking for a snuggle.

[neokollection]

Our Little Secret ㅡ Mark (M)

A/N: I cannot stop listening to So Am I omf-

Word Count: 3.1K

Teaser  :  Waxing your vagina has pros and cons, but a cute boyfriend willing to give you a little attention is definitely a pro.

** SMUT ** (fem. reader) ; oral (f. receiving), fingering, masturbation, swearing, n a lil surprise at the end. Mostly fluff by the way.

---

The wax was warm, initially it was uncomfortably so, but after a second or two it soothed your skin.

You weren’t sure how audible your breathing was, as your ears were preoccupied listening to the blood rush past-

1, 2, 3!

With a swift movement you ripped the strip from you, a mangled yelp of pain escaping you.

“Ow! Ow!”

Hurriedly, you blew upon the skin, hoping the cool air would ease the pain of the raw skin. Looking at the strip, you were pleased to find a clump of hair.

You'd been blaring So Am I in the bathroom, the echo off the tiles pleasing enough to have you smiling to yourself as you heard Taeyong's familiar voice. Tossing the used wax strip into the nearby waste bin, you began heating up another between your palms before your self-waxing session was interrupted. Mark's picture illuminated your screen, a cheesy picture you'd taken of the two of you- Clinging onto his back with an arm slung around his shoulders, your cheek resting against his mop of light hair as you took the picture in the bathroom mirror- This very bathroom. You had a certain affinity for that photo- The veins along his arms contrasting nicely as he hooked his hands beneath your knees, his endearing grin making you fall in love for the millionth time with him. Realizing you should answer it, you placed the wax between your thighs to keep it warm.

"Hey-"

"Hey- What's up?"

He knew you were up to something, picking up on the 5th ring was unusual for you.

"Nothing," you lied, pressing your phone between your cheek and shoulder to peel the plastic off the warm wax paper before applying it.

You hissed to yourself gently as he talked, but it must have gone unnoticed.

"Can I come over?"

"Uh- If you want."

"I'm bored," he whined, drawling out the last syllable.

The two of you chuckled in response.

"You can come, but... I want something."

"Uh," he began, an awkward giggle flowing out after, "What do you want?"

"Could you like, possibly, bring a hoodie or something by chance- Please?"

"Are you cold or something?"

You smiled against the phone, biting on your lower lip for a moment.

"Kind of-"

"You're so cryptic- You just want it to steal it, don't you?"

"Hey!" you shot back, "It's not stealing if you voluntarily give it to me!"

He laughed heartily, his voice going up an octave.

"Besides," you began, lowering your voice, "I always give them back."

Mark made a small hum of acknowledgment, the sound cute.

"Oki," he hummed- You could nearly hear his grin, "I'll be over in like... thirty minutes?"

He sounded unsure- Knowing his timing guesstimates he'd probably take forty-five.

"Oki~" you mocked before giggling lightly, "Then-"

"Stay on with me-"

"Stay on the line?"

"Yeah- I'll get ready and take a bus over- Tell me about your day."

"B-But... I'm kind of doing something right now," you frowned.

"Okay, wait," Mark blasted, "Earlier when I'd asked what you were up to you said 'Nothing'."

"Yeah, but like- I'm waxing," you admitted.

"Waxing? ...Waxing what?"

"Me!"

"Duh," he guffawed, "I mean like which part-"

You thought for a moment, thinking how to word it.

“O-Okay,” Mark stammered, “I got it.”

He took a moment before giggling at your silence, sensing your embarrassment.

“Do you need anything else?” he piped up.

“No,” you answered quietly, “Just you- And your sweatshirt.”

“So, you need me?” he teased gently.

“I’m hanging up,” you cracked.

“See you soon, baby,” he practically purred.

Each time he’d call you by a term of endearment it had your insides churning in adoration, a blush creeping up your figure and your gaze dropping to the small smile you wore.

“See ya,” you sang back.

Placing the back of the now warm phone back on the cool tile you took a breath before tearing the wax paper from yourself once more.

---

You weren’t sure exactly what you’d been expecting. It was enflamed and tender to the touch- You’d tried running some cool water over it and patting it dry to alleviate the sensitive skin, but to no luck. You chose to pull on a pair of cotton boxers after rubbing a tad of lotion into the skin to hydrate it. The boxers were comfortable, not clinging to you and allowing a comfortable airflow. You were organizing your fridge, emptying containers and bottles before tossing them in the trash when your phone buzzed atop the counter noisily. He was here, going to your door, you buzzed him in on the nearby screen.

Feeling a tad sweaty from your ‘exciting’ day, you scurried to your room, yanking off your t-shirt before tugging on a new one, stopping midway to rush to your bathroom and reuse your deodorant. Noticing your trashcan showing your earlier endeavor, your rolled a wad of toilet paper before pushing it down to cover the evidence. A knock was sounding at your door next, causing your to hurriedly poke your arms through the holes before your legs were carrying you to the door.

“Hi,” you breathed, opening the door suddenly.

“Air conditioning,” Mark basked, stepping through the doorway.

You feigned a purse of your lips as he didn’t greet you, but were left with bewildered raise of your brows as he pulled the hem of your shirt into place, It’d gotten stuck on the curve of your hip, allowing a sliver of skin to be visible.

“Thanks...”

Slipped his slides to the side of the doorway, he padded towards your small sofa, dropping to it with a long breath of relief. Shuffling towards him after closing the door, you outstretched your hands in attempt to get him to toss you the bright purple sweatshirt that folded neatly on his chest.

“Come get it,” he teased, folding a hand behind his head in an arrogant manner.

Bending forward to snatch it from him you were pulled onto him- Ungracefully and unceremoniously. Nearly kneeing him in the stomach, you clamored on top of him, his grip upon your upper arm controlling. Dropping your hands to his chest to hold yourself up he let out an ‘oof’. Pulling out of his grip, you sat up, straddling his hips as your hands went to the soft sweatshirt, unfolding it to get a good look at it. It was big, just how you like it- You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his hands upon your hips, giving a tender squeeze before moving to clasp them at the small of your back. His fingertips brushed the fabric of your shirt upward, warm palms pressing into your skin gently. You brought the material to your nose, unable to hide your giddy grin at the wonderfully familiar scent. You hummed happily, draping it across the back of a nearby cushion carelessly before bending down to clasp his soft cheeks in your hands.

“Your skin is so soft,” you murmured, distracted for a moment, “It’s no fair-”

“What do you mean?” he grinned, “Yours is too-”

His fingers unclasped, the warmth of his palms sliding up your back, beneath your shirt, his fingertips minutely tickling you along the way. Shivering at the contact, you felt your shoulders shrug upward, letting your face fall away from his, snuggling into the warmth of his neck- His skin was so soft, smooth as silk, warm as the comforting ceramic of your mug filled with steaming milk, and his scent- His scent was the best- Partly an aroma of his body wash, a clean scent with a slight must to it, but also something you’d never be able to pinpoint; his natural scent.

“I missed you,” you murmured into his skin, letting yourself melt against his figure.

He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention at your words and proximity, squirming lightly at the sensation of your breath on his neck.

“You’re so soft,” he whispered.

He meant it in all ways implied, drawing a hand away from your skin to thread into your hair. Other hand, idle on your back stretched across, wrapping around you in an embrace as he massaged the back of your scalp gently with his wandering fingertips. Unable to control yourself, you squirmed, giddy with butterflies at the sweet affection you’d been craving. Doing so, you let the front of your pelvis bump and drag along his sharp him, whining to yourself quietly as you cringed backwards.

“What is it?” he asked gently, round eyes tracing along you with concern as you resituated yourself.

You pulled down the front of the boxers just enough to show a sliver of the abused skin, irritated and tender.

“It hurts...”

He sat up slightly, leaning one of his elbows as his other hand pulled up the front of your shirt to get a better look. You got distracted by him easily, chewing on your bottom lip gently at how manly his hands suddenly seemed next to yours.

“Lemme see.”

“You just did,” you retorted with a small grin.

Instead of returning your grin he frowned, bottom lip puffed out, a luxurious pink.

“Why’d you do it?”

You thought for a moment- It’d always been something you’d wanted to try, curious as to the look and feel. Not to mention, for intimacy. You’d kept yourself trimmed, but wondered if he’d like a bare canvas better.

“I wanted to try it,” you admitted.

“You don’t have to do this kind of stuff- I don’t mind really- Neither does-”

“I know,” you cut in, “I just wanted to try it. Besides, in a day or two it’ll probably be fine.”

“It’s so soft; you’re so soft,” he marveled for a moment, having let his hand wander down to graze the skin gently, “Let me see,” he tried again.

His eyes were glossy with intent, “I won’t do anything weird-”

His choice of words made you grimace.

“I-” he paused, “...want to take care of you-”

It was his turn to have a blush creep up his cheeks. Something about him seeing you so bare and open made you uncomfortable, yet you didn’t completely dislike the idea either.

“Okay,” you breathed softly.

“The bedroom-” you added... It was darker there.

Something about the moment felt so much more erotic that the times the two of you would undress each other- He’d already been pulling your oversized t-shirt over your head before cradling you in his arms as he carried you from the sofa to your bedroom, using his foot to push the door open. He wasn’t completely gentle about setting you down upon your duvet, nor brash about it. His lips were on your neck the next moment, your limbs scrambling to cling to him in desperation. He nearly toppled over onto you as he attempted to draw back, but your hands around his neck held fast. He chuckled into the side of your cheek as you pulled him back into your neck, toes curling at the attention he gave your sensitive skin. His tongue was so warm, his teasing teeth welcomed soft sighs from you as his hands gently pried yours from around his next, intertwining with them as he pressed them to the sheets. Drawing back, he crack a sly smile before pecking your nose- Your chest arched toward him as he rest his cheek against your warming skin, pressing a chaste kiss to the flesh before sitting up.

“I’ve been kind of horny-” he admitted.

He released your hands, moving to pull the boxers from you. As he did so, you arched your back, reaching to unclasp your bra. He breathed out a soft sound, the tent in his jeans straining uncomfortably. You were ethereal. Breasts so plush and inviting, his palms itching to caress them- Your exposed curves stealing away his breath as he took a moment to collect himself. He caught your gaze, hair haloed around your awaiting expression, framing your cheeks messily. No matter how much his cock strained in confinement, he couldn’t help but find your expression cute; lips unintentionally pouty, fluttering lashes catching his attention. To an extent, it was overwhelming.

Ducking down, he stole a quick kiss, making an attempt to draw back before letting himself dip back in, lips intoxicatingly exciting. Mark let out a soft moan into your mouth, wanting nothing more than to cage in your exposed body with his own and kiss your lips raw- But he had other intentions. Willing himself to draw back, he shivered at your words.

“I want you.”

He was abnormally quiet, sliding down your body before pressing a kiss to your hip. His eyes flickered up to your expression, causing you to squirm, his eyes were captivating, a hunger within them causing your chest to constrict. Warm lips danced along you, plush lips dipping into each crevice discovered. His saliva left cool trails, the air conditioning and reprieve of his breath causing a cooling sensation that had you sighing in bliss. He licked a hot stripe along your center, pushing your thighs to the sheets to expose your heat.

“How’s it feel?”

“So good,” you gushed, unable to even conceive of any embarrassed notions you might have had.

He was gentle, planting sweet kisses and careful caresses of his tongue along your soft skin, every now and then running his fingers along you. He blew along your core in gentle puffs before inserting a finger. Your natural lubricant allowed him to easily do so and had him coming back for another taste, his taut jaw set as he suckled on your swollen nub for a moment before messily laving his tongue across it. Your fingers had long been tangled in his hair before your hand was flopping around above your head aimlessly. It was too much- You simply couldn’t keep yourself quiet, or at least a decent volume.

“You’re so soft, baby,” he praised, nosing your flesh as he added a second finger.

Pulling a pillow over your face, you muffled yourself, finally able to let out the sounds trapped inside.

“More- More- I need more,” you begged.

Looking up, Mark felt himself nearly spurt in his briefs, the sight of your body taut with desire and squirming, breasts begging for his touch in plain view- The sounds you made-

“I didn’t bring a condom,” he informed, feeling sorry for himself.

Curling his fingers upwards, your heat squelched with want as he vigorously wiggled his lithe fingers back and forth. An idea came to mind and he leant down in attempt to hurriedly get you off. Tongue flattened against your clit, a third finger stretched you.

“Oh- My… God!” you hiccuped.

His pace was anything but gentle, pumping in and out of you furiously.

“Are you gonna cum?”

You hummed in response.

“On my fingers?”

His voice was tight, his jaw set as his other hand clumsily went to work unbuttoning his jeans. His pace faltered as he pushed them down his thighs.

“Touch yourself,” he advised, referring to your abandoned clit.

You did so, rubbing it in tedious circles as his knuckles once again plunged into you.

“Fuck- You’re so hot,” he breathed, withdrawing himself from his blue briefs.

Hot and hard, his member stood to attention, tip a deep red, already leaking.

“I’m gonna,” you stammered, breath getting caught in your throat.

Hunching over you, he began to tug upon himself.

Your bliss came in waves, the later once having your tendons tightening and body jolting in attempt to push his hand away. You weren’t sure what you said, a mixture of his name and a cry melting into a wanton mewl.

Removing his fingers, he wrapped them around his length, sighing in delight at the lubricant and warm sensation. He hunched over you further, knocking the pillow from you; he needed to see your face. You were flushed, partly from the orgasm, partly from smothering yourself, yet still absolutely breathtaking. Your fucked-out expression had him grabbing a tit, squeezing it in his hand as he hurriedly pumped himself. His breath stopped for a few moments before being let out in a heavy breath, an occasionally moan in the mix before repeated.

He painted your intimacy, a strained expression on his face as his nose crinkled. He cursed under his breath, spurts of glossy cum causing you to shiver at the contact upon your searing skin. He straightened, upon his knees as he milked the last of him, letting it drip onto your pelvis. You wish he’d taken off his shirt- You knew his abdomen was taut, wishing to see his straining biceps and delicately carved abdomen.

“Fuck-“ he cursed lightly, aiming to fall beside you, accidentally knocking knees with you in the process.

“It feels good,” you smiled, the coolant of his cum upon you matched with the AC causing for a divine relief upon your sensitive labia.

“I think I’m a boob-guy,” he blurted suddenly after catching his breath.

“What-?”

“Like… I couldn’t stop staring at them,” he explained, “I mean your butt is cute too, but-”

Even now he wanted to squeeze them, to rest his cheek upon the soft flesh as he toyed with a nipple- To eventually suckle hickies upon them.

“They’ll really nice,” he breathed, “I’ll never get over them.”

Slapping your hands to your face you felt embarrassed, but in a dizzy way. He chuckled tiredly beside you.

“Can we nap?”

“Yeah,” you replied, without a second thought.

You felt a swirl of excitement within you- You’d never had such intimate non-sex; never let him see you so completely bare. Reaching for your nightstand, he cleaned the tip of his member a bit before swiping it along you, careful to be tender in his touch. Tossing it aside carelessly, he snuggled into your side, burying his face in your chest as you turned to your side to drape an arm around his shoulders.

“When we wake up remind me to text Johnny,” you murmured.

Johnny, your other boyfriend.

Mark groaned in realization, “Aw… Shit, he’s gonna be mad he wasn’t invited.”

“Well… It’s not like we planned on this happening-“

“You know what I mean.”

Even if you hadn’t planned on Mark’s face between your thighs, Johnny was one who seemed to take the role of leader- In order for him to happily function with the two of you he had a prying nature, having to know every detail of every reaction to make sure the relationship and all the parts of it could function smoothly- A control freak in a manner.

“It’ll be fine,” you assured, combing a hand through his soft hair as you held him to your chest, beginning to become anxious yourself.  

Johnny could never be mad per say, but his passive aggressive nature would surely show in petty acts once he found out.

[ezmodo]

Calling Home

(Happy Mother’s Day!)

https://zaheela.tumblr.com/post/184836905126/part-two-of-the-commissions-from-ezmodo-for-a

Summer Rose lay propped up against the base of a tree and studied the faces of her family.

Tai smiled up at her even as their daughter Yang shoved a palm painfully into his cheek. He was the rock of their family, switching from active field huntsman to teacher at Signal so he could be home for the girls while Summer went on missions for Ozpin. He did it all, from cooking to cleaning to training to pigtail fixing, and he did it all happily on top of teaching full-time. Summer had worries aplenty while out on missions but, thanks to Tai, her daughters were never one of them.

Yang, her sunshine, pushed unceremoniously off of her father’s face as she smiled back at the camera. Summer only met Yang after Raven had left and she couldn’t understand how anyone could leave such a perfect little girl behind. After moving in, she was worried - could she really be Yang’s mother? Would she ever be good enough? But the first time Summer heard ‘mama’ all those fears melted away, replaced by a warmth that threatened to overwhelm her. That time and every time since, hearing Yang call her that made Summer’s heart swell. She would forever be proud to call herself Yang’s mother.

And finally her precious Ruby, so excited to be taking a picture that she couldn’t settle herself in the frame. Summer thought Yang was an endless bundle of energy but Ruby could run even her ragged. She followed her sister everywhere - if Yang was doing something, Ruby needed to be doing it too. Even down to the pigtails, though Ruby’s hair was too short for them. Otherwise, she was definitely her mother’s child. She was growing so fast and guilt gnawed at Summer everytime she came home to see her little girl suddenly so much bigger, so different. She looked into Ruby’s eyes, bright and silver, so much like her own.

Summer’s eyelids began to sink as she felt herself slipping, torn cloak bunching up against her neck as she slid further down the tree. It would be so easy to let herself slide the rest of the way down until her head rested on the grass. Just a moment to rest her eyes, to give her the strength to…

She bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood as she forced herself up. Her left arm lay uselessly at her side, broken in more places than one. Her right arm burned as she pushed and clawed her way back into a sitting position. The attempt felt like it drained what little strength she had left. The pain in her tattered right arm began to feel muted and far away. It was a warm spring day and yet Summer felt the cold settle in, the chill creeping up her limbs.

She pawed blindly for her scroll, panic flaring briefly before her hand brushed against it. She thumbed through the menus until she found where she needed to be. The faces of her family smiled up at her again, though smaller and surrounded by various buttons and options. The contact name was simply Home. Where she should be. Summer paused, thumb trembling over the call button.

You’ll hurt them.

They deserve to know.

You’ll break his heart.

He’s strong. He’ll be strong for them.

Is this the last memory you want to leave them?

I’m scared.

The tears were coming but Summer couldn’t lift her arm high enough to wipe them away. Some big bad huntress you are, she thought bitterly as she wept. Finally stifling her crying, she found the option she wanted - audio only - and hit call. She grimaced as she lifted the scroll and rested it on the bloody ruin of her stomach, trying to steady her breathing while she waited for the call to connect.

---

“Daaaaaaaaad! Your scroll is going off!”

“Bring it here!” Tai shouted back as he tried to wrangle his youngest daughter. “Stay still, missy. You wanted a cool cloak, right?”

Ruby vibrated in place as her father finished fixing her ‘cloak’, a large white pillow case pinned to the girl’s shoulders. As small as she was the pillow case reached down past her knees, though it looked more like a cape a superhero would wear than a proper cloak.

“Okay darling, I think the huntress is ready for action.”

Ruby jumped forward and spun on her heel, striking her best hero pose. “Am I cool?!” she asked excitedly. The effect was mostly lost as the girl struggled to stay still, sock-covered feet slipping on the hardwood.

“Super cool,” Tai agreed, giving his daughter a thumbs up. “Just like Mom. Take your socks off if you guys are playing inside, okay? You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Kay!” she shouted happily before dashing off, slipping and sliding in her socks down the hall to her room. Tai heaved a sigh from the couch as he watched her go.

“Hello, Mama? Helllloooooo?”

His eldest came in from the kitchen with his scroll pressed to her ear and he couldn’t help but snort at her getup. Yang would be playing the terrifying Grimm to Ruby’s huntress, it seemed, and Yang did her best to look the part. A black trash bag was pulled down over her head, holes cut out of the sides for her arms to stick through. A pair of pink heart sunglasses completed her transformation into the dreaded Grimm Yang.

Yang held the scroll out to him. “It says it’s Mama but no one’s saying anything.”

“Maybe she butt dialed,” he said, rolling his eyes when Yang snorted at him saying ‘butt’. “Or the reception’s bad. Lemme see.”

Audio only? Probably poor signal. “Summer? You there babe?”

Yang made a gagging noise and he swatted playfully at the girl. “The huntress is ready,” he whispered to his daughter. “Better go ambush her.”

Yang gave a big nod and snuck off down the hall as quietly as the trash bag would let her. He waited for Yang’s roar and Ruby’s happy squeal before turning his attention back to his scroll.

“Summer?” he asked again, listening. The line wasn’t entirely silent. He could hear breathing on the other end, definitely Summer’s. Maybe she couldn’t talk? He waited, listening as her breathing finally slowed and she forcefully cleared her throat.

“I-I’m here,” she said with a sniffle. “Sorry. Think the pollen’s really bad or something.”

“Mission already wrapped up? Wasn’t expecting you to call until tomorrow morning. You done on your end?”

There was a brief pause before she responded. “Yup...I’m done here.”

“Sweet!” Tai said, rising from the couch. “Think you’ll be back by tomorrow? I’ve been dying to see you. The girls have been too.”

“Not tomorrow,” she said, quietly. “How are the girls doing?”

“Terrors as always. They’re playing huntress now, a miniature Summer Rose vs a...Beringel, I think?” he laughed. “It was kind of hard to tell. Here, let me get them.”

Tai held the scroll away from his face as to not shout in his wife’s ear. “Giiiiiiirrrrrllllllsss! Come talk to your mother!”

Yang barreled into him as he made his way to the girls’ shared room, jumping to snatch the scroll from his hands.

“Hey Mama!” the girl shouted. Noticing her father’s wince, she lowered her voice apologetically. “Sorry. Hey, Mama. You win?”

There was a short pause before Yang responded. “Yup! Me and Ruby are playing. I’m a Grimm and-”

Tai smiled as he watched his daughter pace up and down the hall, rambling excitedly at her mother. Tai was terrified for Yang when Raven left. No mother and a half-assed dad wasn’t what she deserved. But then Summer came. Summer was more than Raven could ever dare to be, becoming the wife he would never be worthy of and the mother Yang deserved.

“-and I told him if he pulled my hair I’d punch him right in the face and he went and pulled my hair so I kinda HAD to punch him in the face and-”

Tai nodded proudly. Summer might not approve, and the principal definitely didn’t, but the sooner boys learned to keep their hands off his daughter the better. Besides, Yang could get away with punching boys her age. The police might have words if Tai was the one who had to do it.

Yang paused to catch her breath but Tai caught her before she could start a new barrage on Summer. “Okay okay, you can tell her the rest when she gets home. Get your sister.”

“Fiiiiiine. Love you Mama, bye!” Yang said, handing the scroll back to Tai before skipping down to her room and poking her head inside. “Mama’s calling!”

Ruby dashed out of the room covered from head to toe in weapons. She had no less than three plastic swords jammed down the front of her pants, a bow strung across her chest, and a squirt pistol in each hand. Tai offered the scroll to her but she just stood on her tiptoes instead, bringing her mouth close to the receiver.

“Busy fighting monsters Mama, can’t talk, byyyyeeeeeee!”

She dashed past him into the living room, turning to fire pretend shots at her Grimm sister. Yang roared in response and gave chase.

“Ruby!” he shouted angrily after the brat.

“Looooooovvvvveeeeeee yooooooooouuuuuuu!” she called back, voice fading as she pounded her way up the stairs.

Tai grunted as he lifted the scroll back to his ear. “I swear, that girl. So, how’d the mission go? If not tomorrow, when do you think you’ll be back?”

At first there was no response. And then he heard sniffles quickly give way to heaving sobs as Summer broke down.

“Summer? Summer!” he shouted. Looking to the girls’ room, he blocked his mouth and whispered urgently. “What’s wrong? What happened? Talk to me.”

She either didn’t hear him or just couldn’t respond as she sobbed into his ear. Panic was starting to gnaw at his stomach. Summer could be emotional when it came to the girls, but never like this, never while still out in the field.

She went on for some time, Tai muttering what comfort he could to her. It didn’t seem to help as she continued to cry, occasionally gasping as she tried to catch her breath. Finally she started to settle, her long shaky breaths filling him with dread.

“Summer,” he repeated. “What happened?”

“I…I...” she stuttered, “I-I’m sorry. I messed up. I won’t...I’m…”

Tai felt an icy fist grip his heart. “I need to run next door!” he yelled up the stairs, already tearing the front door open. “Stay inside and lock the door after me!”

He didn’t wait for his daughters to reply before he was out the door, leaping down the front steps, and tearing down the dirt path towards the next house down the road. Their nearest neighbors were over a mile away, not far at all for him. The fist around his heart squeezed down harder and he dug in, pushing as hard as he could.

“Tai,” she whispered in his ear, “don’t, there’s nothing-”

“Where are you?” he panted, cutting her off.

“I-I don’t know. I was lured away from the village and got lo- lost,” she moaned. “I think it was a semblance. They got me turned around and-”

“They?”

“Huntsmen. S-six. I got them Tai, but…” she gave a forced laugh that tore at his gut. “But they got me too.”

“Where’s Qrow?” he asked, mind racing. Anytime she teamed up with anyone it was with Qrow. He’d be closest, he’d be able to do something.

“Different mission,” she replied, voice strained. “Different continent.”

“Raven! She can-”

“She won’t,” Summer answered, voice thick as she started to cry again. “You know she won’t. I stole her family from her, she won’t-”

“The only reason we have a family is because of you!”

His vision swam with unshed tears as he continued to sprint down the dirt path. Halfway there, just a bit more. He’d call Ozpin, he’d call Raven, anyone that would bring Summer back home again.

“Tai.”

His stomach twisted as he ignored her. One arm pumping, he ran harder.

“Tai, please. Please.”

He wouldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t let their children lose her.

“Tai!” she shouted, and the anguish in her voice caused him to slow. “Please, say something.”

“Keep fighting,” he choked out as he stumbled to a stop. “I can’t lose you. The girls need you.”

He was crying now, ugly sobs that rooted him to the spot. He could hear his wife doing the same.

“Tai,” she finally managed. “I-”

“I love you, Summer,” he interrupted. “I love you so damn much.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “You’ll tell the girls, won’t you? Tell them how much I love them.”

“They know, they know,” he said, fresh tears pouring down his face.

“Ruby’s so little,” she cried. “She’ll forget me.”

“She won’t,” he argued. “You’re her mom. She loves you. She’ll never forget you.”

“You have to tell them,” Summer begged. “Everyday. Tell them.”

“I will,” he promised. “Every single day. They’ll know how much their mama loves them.”

“Thank you,” she whispered over and over again as she wept.

“We’ll be alright,” he lied. The girls took after their mother. They were strong. He wasn’t. “Don’t you worry.”

He stumbled off the path and found a tree. Letting the rough bark scrape his back, he sunk down to the ground. Summer’s cries slowed and eventually she let out a long, shaky breath.

“Tai…?” she asked quietly.

“I’m here, love.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

He told her stories from school, about the garden he was finally going to start, and their plans for the following weekend. But mostly he talked about their daughters. He kept talking late into the afternoon as the sun began to set and he continued on, long after Summer Rose fell silent.

[jouretnuit-nightandday]

Writer’s block is killing me right now, so I decided to try and write something different just for the fun of it. So here, have part 1 of ??? of a bumbleby/RWBY Young Avenger-ish AU! 

Okay, this is bad, Blake thinks, as she jumps from the roof of a thirty-story building right before the top floor explodes.

She twists as she plummets towards the ground and aims one of her grappling hook arrows at the fancy hotel on the other side of the street. Blake’s a highly skilled archer - in fact, some (herself included) might say she’s the best archer in the world. So it’s not a total surprise when her arrow hits its target, but Blake still feels a sharp pang of relief. The hook catches the railing of a beautiful marble balcony, abruptly interrupting her fall, and sending her crashing face first into the hotel facade.

Blake groans, shoulders and wrists reeling from the shock, holding onto the rope for dear life. Her head aches fiercely where it smashed against the wall, and she feels warm blood trickling down her temple. Behind her, bits and pieces of the recently exploded top floor dramatically crumble to the ground. Blake fleetingly wishes someone had filmed the whole thing. Her jumping and firing an arrow mid-air with an explosion in the background? Badass.

“What in the world were you thinking?”

Blake looks up to see Weiss perched on the balcony, arms crossed against her chest. Her all-white outfit is pristine, not a stray hair out of her ponytail, and she almost looks bored, as if the lot of them hasn’t been fighting a horde of aliens for the past hour. Blake, bloodied and sore as fuck and dangling from a rope like bait on a fishing rod, frowns at her with mild irritation.

“You’re gonna sit here and be judgmental or you’re gonna help me up?”

Weiss raises a perfect eyebrow. “Great,” Blake grumbles. She rolls her eyes, and starts climbing.

When she makes it up safely onto the balcony floor, she collapses, back against the railing, catching her breath. Weiss pokes her thigh with one very pointy heel. “Please, refrain from throwing yourself off buildings. Remember, you don’t have superpowers, unlike the rest of us. And every time you do something needlessly heroic, Ruby gets a heart attack.”

Right on cue, there’s a high-pitched voice in Blake’s earpiece. “Blake, oh my God, are you okay? I saw that jump, that was way too close!”

Blake sighs, glaring at Weiss like it’s her fault. “I’m fine, Ruby.”

“Well, you could have a concussion. I’m sending Yang over to you.”

“I just said I’m fine!” Blake protests, but Ruby has already cut off the com’. She sits up. Her head does hurt an awful lot. Weiss hops down from the railing, and pats her shoulder, managing to be both consoling and patronizing.

“Stay in one piece. I have to go back before they try and blow up the rest of the building.”

She mumbles a spell, and fades out, teleporting to wherever their leader is. Blake massages her sore shoulder, looking around to take in her surroundings - and that’s when she sees them. Twenty or so of these green fuckers, the frog-looking aliens that apparently had nothing better to do on an early Sunday morning than to invade Manhattan, crawling in the street, sixty feet below her.

Sure, she could wait for back-up. But where’s the fun in that? Blake grins, and leaps from the balcony, shooting a couple of arrows as she free-falls. She catches herself at the last moment on a streetlamp, and slides down to the ground. A few aliens lay still in the middle of the street, arrows sticking out of their bodies, but the rest of them are now snarling and pointing laser guns at her.

“Come and get it!” Blake yells, and immediately cringes. She’ll have to work on her one-liners.

***

Yang is in the middle of doing what she does best - punching stuff - when her earpiece crackles back to life. “Hey sis,” she says, thrusting her metal fist into the face of a particularly ugly alien. There’s a satisfying crunch ; she must have broken some teeth. “What’s up?”

“How are you guys doing over there?”

Yang puts her hands on her hips, looking around her. A pile of unconscious green dudes lay at her feet, and a few more are fleeing from her at this very moment. Nora, all hulked-out, is currently throwing cars at the mass of aliens in front of them. Pyrrha and Ren are up on the roof of a nearby building, dealing with the spaceship menacingly hovering above the city - Yang hears metal creaking and cries of fear from where she stands, so she figures it’s going well. “We got it under control,” she tells her sister, with a proud grin.

“Could you go check on Blake then?”

Her smile disappears. “Why? Is she in trouble?”

“She’s okay, but she took a hit to the head and I want her to have some back-up. You know how she is - she’s not gonna slow down.”

Yang snorts, pride and exasperation and fondness mixing in her chest. “So fucking stubborn. Don’t worry, I’ve got her.”

She takes off flying, swirling between high buildings until she catches sight of Blake fighting alone against a dozen or so aliens. She looks a little worse for wear, and Yang’s stomach tightens briefly when she sees the blood on her face.

She dives in, and slams both feet into of the aliens’ stomach, so hard she sends him crashing through the nearest wall. Blake turns towards her, wide-eyed, and Yang offers her a grin. “Hey, princess. Need a hand?”

Blake ducks to avoid a laser shot, and swings her bow in a wide arc, hitting an alien square in the head. The creature crumples to the ground. “I told Ruby I was fine!” Blake yells, kicking another alien in the back.

She’s bleeding and covered in grime and soot, her hair a complete disaster, and - she’s so goddamn beautiful. Yang has always loved the way Blake fights, combining martial art precision and raw grittiness, arrows to the throat and elbows to the guts. It suits her well, that mix of elegance and brutal efficiency ; it makes her look dangerous, and Yang stares, transfixed.

“Ow.”

Blake’s small grunt of pain shakes Yang out of it, and her eyes turn red. There’s a round hole in Blake’s jacket, and a burnt smell. She didn’t roll out of the way fast enough, and got caught by a laser beam. Yang, without another word, jumps into the fray.

She throws punches left and right, a hurricane of bare fists and heavy boots, while Blake takes a step back and shoots arrow after arrow. Yang gets hit by a few laser shots, and even one lucky kick from an alien who looks bewildered by his success before she knocks him out, but she doesn’t care - nothing really hurts her these days. It doesn’t take them long to finish the fight.

Afterwards, Blake goes to collect her arrows, plucking them without fuss from the corpses. It’s midday by now, and she looks so pretty in the sunlight, dark hair falling below her shoulders in waves.

Blake turns around, and catches her looking. “You’re staring,” she says, cocking her head.

Yang winks at her. Blake’s brown skin darkens across her cheeks.

“I don’t think you mind.”

Before Blake can answer, there’s a flash of red, and a screeching sound, and Ruby comes to a halt right in front of them, digging her heels so abruptly that the concrete splits under the sudden pressure. Yang sighs, a little disappointed. She loves her sister, but man, speedsters can be so annoying. Always interrupting.

“Blake! Yang! You’re okay?”

“Yep,” Yang says, grabbing Ruby’s cape and tugging her into a side hug. “Where’s Weiss?” she adds as Ruby groans and wiggles out of her hold.

“I’m here,” Weiss says softly right behind her, and Yang squeaks and jumps ten feet up in surprise, hovering in the air as Ruby bursts out laughing. She ignores her sister, and the quiet chuckle coming from Blake.

“God, Weiss, stop fucking doing that! Can’t you make noise when you teleport?”

Weiss looks up at her innocently. “Don’t be so dramatic, Yang. You make it sound like I do it on purpose.” Yang catches the minuscule twitch of Weiss’s lips, and sticks her tongue out.

Boom. Boom. Boom. The sound of heavy footsteps running towards them echoes in the quiet. In a matter of seconds, the mood changes - Blake has an arrow aimed at the corner of the street, Weiss moves her fingers in intricate circles, murmuring obscure words, Yang has her feet back on the ground, fists raised up defensively, and Ruby…

Well, Ruby just waits, hands lazily linked behind her head. Speedsters.

“Guys, I’m so hungry!” Nora yells as she rounds the corner, and there’s a brief instant of confusion before the four of them drop their fighting stance. It’s not a giant enemy coming at them - it’s a giant Nora, carrying Pyrrha and Ren on her shoulders, smiling widely.

Ruby rushes to them. “What happened to the spaceship?”

“Gone,” Pyrrha says, before she lets herself fall from Nora’s shoulder, landing perfectly. “The survivors piled up in it, and the ship took off. You guys okay?”

“Yeah,” Ruby says. “But we should meet up with Jaune. Some of us,” and she looks pointedly at Blake, “took unnecessary risks and got a little banged up as a result.”

Blake huffs. “I’m fine,” she repeats, pouting a little. It’s cute. She’s cute. Yang realizes she’s staring again, and turns her attention back to Pyrrha.

“Jaune texted me earlier. He’s waiting for us near a pizzeria on Third and Bleeker Street,” Pyrrha says, glancing at Nora, whose stomach is grumbling so loud it makes the gravel around them shake. “Why don’t we kill two birds with one stone, and get something to eat while he patches up Blake?”

Ruby throws a fist in the air. “Yay! Celebratory pizza!”

***

Blake would never admit it, but she is kind of relieved when Jaune, after a quick but efficient checkup in a secluded corner booth of the pizzeria, concludes she has no serious injuries.

“No need for stitches, though you’ll have to ice that shoulder tonight,” he says, with a reassuring pat on her arm. “Lemme clean up the wound on your face, and you’re good to go.”

He reaches for the first-aid supplies laid out on the table, but Blake bats his hand away. “I can do it.”

Jaune gives her a look ; Blake stares back, stubborn. He raises his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine.”

He retreats, walking to the other side of the pizzeria to join the rest of their teammates currently feasting on pizza and garlic bread, and Blake closes her eyes, leans back against the bench and takes a deep breath.

She gets about thirty seconds of peace and quiet before she hears someone sliding on the seat opposite her. When she opens her eyes, Yang smiles, and pushes a huge slice of pizza towards her, almost knocking over a pile of bandages.

“I brought you some food,” she says. “It’s anchovy, your favorite.”

Blake feels blood rushing to her cheeks, annoyingly. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Jaune mentioned you might need some help with that head wound?”

As if he can feel Blake’s eyes burning a hole in his back all the way across the room, Jaune’s shoulders tense, and he lowers his head in a futile attempt to hide. Traitor. She expected better from the only other non-superpowered human of the team.

Yang rests her elbows on the table, and leans toward Blake. “Come on, princess. Let me help. That’s what partners do.”

Blake’s stomach flips dangerously at the word partners, and she doesn’t know how to feel about that, so instead of answering she crams a huge bite of pizza in her mouth. It’s cheesy, and very garlicky, and super delicious, and wow, Blake didn’t realize how hungry she was. She takes another bite.

Yang snorts. “Okay, I’ll take that as a yes.” While Blake chews, she opens a single-use gauze sponge and pours some alcohol on it. And then she reaches across the table, and grabs Blake’s chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Don’t move.”

Blake swallows, and does as she’s told.

Well, until the cloth touches the open gash on her temple, and she jerks away with an indignant yelp of pain.

Yang raises an eyebrow. “Belladonna, I’ve seen you get punched in the nose and you didn’t make a sound, but you can’t handle a little disinfectant?”

“It burns!” Blake grumbles, but when Yang holds her chin again, she stays still. Yang’s eyes are the color of fresh lavender, and her fingers feel warm on her skin. She’s so close, Blake can count every single freckle on her face, every eyelash, and it’s hard to remember that the girl in front of her is a mostly invulnerable super-strong half-human who can create portals to other dimensions with her fists if she so desires.

She just looks like an average twenty-year-old girl. There’s tomato sauce on her jaw, and Blake, without thinking, raises a hand and wipes it off with her thumb. Yang’s eyes flicker to hers. The tip of her ears turn bright red.

She tapes the final piece of gauze onto Blake’s face. “All done,” she says, her voice rougher than usual. Blake licks her lips, and thinks of saying something along the lines of wanna kiss it better?

Instead, she jumps away from Yang’s touch when Ruby appears in front of their table without warning, in an abrupt flash of red. Ugh, speedsters. Always showing up unannounced. But Ruby’s face is serious, and Blake straightens up, suddenly attentive.

“I got a call from Director Ozpin,” Ruby explains, talking so fast her words all blend into each other. “SHIELD’s secret underground base is under attack.”

“Ugh,” Yang groans. “What is it this time? Aliens? Robots? A pack of wild suburban moms?”

“I think he said… vampires?”

There’s a silence as they both process this information.

“Well,” Blake says eventually, eyeing her half-eaten slice of pizza with newfound respect. “Good thing we ate all that garlic.”

[andrewiam]

TMI: Daddy $

Anon asked me for another story time and I’m horny atm, so here you go

Last year, when I was still single and on grindr looking for a quick fix, I got a message, early morning, from a profile that just had a rose as a picture and an age of 47. All he sent me was a rose emoji and some dollar signs. I was a bit bored, so I engaged and asked him what he was looking for and how generous he was feeling. Told me that he was here for business and was ok with paying for some young hole. He sent me some pics of his manhood and asked to see my ass.

I usually don’t hook up without seeing a guy’s face first, but I was getting hard from what he had sent me: a good 7″ long and decently thick with a big bush daddy cock leaking for a younger hole. I sent him some ass and body pics and he gave me his hotel address to meet him.

Driving there, my heart was pounding and my cock leaking. I’d never been with a daddy before. At the time I was only beginning to explore my daddy and hairy kinks through porn; I wasn’t sure I was ready to actually follow through. My hormones said otherwise though, as I pulled up to the small Hilton with a wet spot forming on my gym shorts. 

Walking quickly through the entrance way and nodding to the staff, I made my way to the elevators and down the halls to the daddy’s room. My breath catching, I knocked on his door. 

The daddy cracked it open and seeing it was me, stood aside to let me in. Walking past him, I put my stuff down next to the neatly made queen bed and felt strong hands wrap around my back. R (let’s call him R), held me close and I was suddenly aware of just how big he was not only in cock size but in body. He dwarfed me. White and definitely upper 40′s he stood at least 6′ tall and was also about 1.5-2x wider than me. I felt his bulge straining against his khaki pants (it seemed he had been dressed for work) and started to get hard again.

The size, age, cock, and hair difference was turning me on. I was in a bear hug of massive daddy who wanted nothing more than to make me his little sub bottom. 

Soon, he released me and turned me around to appraise me. R smiled and told me to take off my shirt so he could get a look at me. Replying with “yes daddy”, I stripped and was rewarded with an eyebrow raise and a twitch from his very obvious bulge. His rough, older hands ran up and down my smooth torso, making light lines and circling around my nipples. Clearly picking up on my kink he quietly growled “So you like daddies...boy? You wanna feel daddy fill that tight, little pussy?” as he pinched my nipples.

Moaning,I nodded and intoned a yes.

“Good boy”, he smiled and placed his hand on my shoulder, pushing down, “Now please daddy”.

I dropped to my knees as he unbuttoned and pulled off his pants. Leaving his boxers on, he pulled my face close to his bulge. He smelled of a recent shower, but with a manly musk too. Stroking him over his underwear, I looked up from his crotch, begging for access to his thick manhood. He obliged me and pushed his boxers down halfway so the massive shaft sprung out. My mouth watered; it was easily closer to 8 than 7 and very hairy, untrimmed. Quickly, I took him into my mouth gagging when I got halfway down. He moaned and let his head fall back while keeping his hand on the back of my head. “That’s a good boy...fuckkk...” he muttered as I worshiped his cock. It filled my mouth deliciously, sliding to the back of my throat and down it as I tried to take more and more of his 8″ length.

He commanded me to look up at him as he slowly thrust into my mouth and began unbuttoning his dress shirt. As he undid the last button and let it fall away, I beheld a man’s chest. A real daddy. He wasn’t just hairy around his cock, but everywhere. It rolled like a smooth carpet over his belly and thickened around his pecs, dark and inviting me to play with it. I reached up to stroke what I could reach and he kept up the dirty talk.

“Yeah, you like that, boy? Feeling a real man’s chest? Daddy’s hairy body? You want that on you? You wanna feel it brushing up on your smooth boy body as Daddy fills you?”

Mouth filled with cock, I looked up at him and moaned my affirmative as I ran my hands through his pubes and up his stomach. “Get up,” he commanded, “On all fours on the bed”. I obeyed and was rewarded with a warm, wet feeling as R’s big hands reached down, spread my cheeks and made room for his tongue. Moaning, I dirty talked back as he ate me out. “Fuck daddy...ahhh...that feels..uhhh...so good on my boy pussy”. 

Encouraged, he picked up the pace, tongue fucking my hole in between taking breaks to reply. “You want daddy in this tight pussy, boy? Fuck I’m gonna stretch your smooth little hole out. Lemme hear you beg for Daddy’s hung cock”. Beg I did as I let out moan after moan as he ate my ass like a beast, pulling my hole open and sliding his tongue as far as he could inside.

As I lay face down, ass up on the bed, I felt something hard and flexible poke at my entrance. Daddy R had decided he couldn’t wait any longer and was fingering me to loosen me up. He spat and slowly slid a finger inside me, grunting as I moaned and whined and gasped at the intrusion. He pulled me up and wrapped an around around my neck from behind, kissing my neck and sliding even deeper into me. Whispering in my ear as he added another finger, “If you can barely handle daddy’s fingers, are you sure you can take daddy’s cock?”. I nodded and gave him more moans to show him that I was into it and going to try.

He pushed his two fingers all the way to his knuckles inside me, tweaking my spot and eliciting urgent, animalistic moans from me. “Show me that pussy, boy” he growled and let me fall back down, presenting my ass to this hairy, dominant alpha male.

I heard lube being squeezed and finally felt what I’d wanted all this time pushing at my hole. With one hand on my hip, another grasping and aiming his 8″ shaft, I felt him enter me, no condom. I gasped and pushed back, but he slid in deeper whispering “Don’t worry, I’m clean and on prep, I won’t cum inside”. I relaxed a bit and he used it to slide another inch or two in, stretching my pussy. “Fuck, boy, that pussy is tight...you should see it,” he said. There was a pause and I heard a shutter snap as he took an above photo on his phone. I turned and looked as he showed me the photo and felt my semi-hard cock stiffen. This pale, massive, hairy cock has half in my hole, being gripped tightly by my ass as it struggled to adjust. It was enough to get me leaking and begging again.

Daddy R put his phone down and resumed sliding in me, inch by inch, kissing my back and telling me what a good submissive boy I was as I gasped. I felt his pubes brush my ass as he fully filled me and grunted in satisfaction. I was taking this monster daddy cock and it felt amazing.

His guiding hand drifted to my other hip and he began slowly thrusting into me. I gripped the covers and moaned along with him as he increased his pace, always praising me and telling me how much Daddy R was enjoying my ass. I went full face down and stroked myself as he got into his rhythm, alternating between long, deep strokes and quick, brutal thrusts as he pulled my hips into his hairy pubes. His huge, bare cock filled my hole to the limit, making me scream when he’d push deep.

“Crawl forward” I was commanded and inched my way as he climbed on bed with me, never leaving my hole. Roughly, he pushed me onto my stomach and laid on top of me, getting deeper than ever before. I wriggled and screamed in both pain and pleasure as my gut was filled with daddy cock. The pain quickly faded as he again wrapped his arm around my neck and grinded into me. “This what you wanted boy? A thick daddy cock filling you? Feeling my chest hair on you? Little sub bitch, take it like a good boy” he breathed in my ear as he brutally pounded me, all thoughts of my comfort gone, consumed with his lust and need to seed a smaller, younger boy’s pussy. 

I felt like I was on the verge of cumming hands free from all the stimulation. I could feel his thick chest hair on me, his cock deep inside me, and his dirty talk was sending me to horny heights I’ve never known before. Whimpering under the ferocious pounding, “Daddy..I’m...gonna..cummm”. He slowed his thrusting and I could feel his grin behind me. “Not like this you’re not”.

Manhandling me, he rolled over and pulled me with him, ending with me sitting on him. I turned towards him and saw him with his hands behind his head. “I know you like Daddy’s hair...play with it and cum”. 

My hands moved to stroke myself, but he slapped them away. “Only I get to play with that”. Obeying, I bounced on his manhood while I ran my hands through his thick, manly fur. He grasped my cock and held a circle, letting me fuck his hand as he thrust up into me. I was already so close it didn’t take long before I was panting. “yeah, boy, just like that, let me see you cum to daddy fucking you”. I felt it swelling and filled myself deep with his cock as I shot all over his chest. Shot after shot pumped out, splattering him with my pent up load.

Breathing hard, I was abruptly pulled off his thickness and pushed to have my face by it. My last ride had gotten him so close and he furiously stroked himself before blowing his thick seed all over my face, arching his back in pleasure as shots of cum drenched me. 

Daddy R pulled me back up to him and motioned for me to snuggle into his broad chest. We laid like that, small twink and large man for a few minutes, recovering, before he looked at the clock.

Politely, he said he had to go to a meeting and let me get dressed. Handing me what he promised as I walked out the door, he thanked me and closed it to get himself cleaned off. 

Honestly...after a fuck like that...I would have done it for free.