#good lord drawing those skinny fuckin legs was way harder than it should have been

[feralmoonlight]

nakey moon

working on pirate AU designs and... the lack of pants really doesn’t do them any favors XD. Next up is nakey sun so I’ll probably just throw that somewhere? idk

#SB Moon #Moondrop #Fnaf #security breach #pirate moon #pirate AU #YMDT AU #good lord drawing those skinny fuckin legs was way harder than it should have been #I absolutely got lazy on the feet cause he gonna be in boots pretty much every time i draw him after this so secret beans instead of toes #also his scars are gonna be soldered gold for those hard to heal injuries #ah they can heal naturally but it takes forever #unless like a limb gets blown off #but they can be technically repaired as well but it wont heal back perfect #and what better way to accent battle scars as a pirate than with plundered gold repurposed to show off how bad ass you are #also his claws are definitely retractable #though he never retracts them #sun also gonna have claws but he only pulls them out in emergencies or when hes particularly nettled

[thiswasinevitableid]

"we sleep together the same night a terrible snowstorm hits the city and everything gets shut down so now i have no way to get home so let’s make it a two night stand?" indruck prompt? (eyes emoji)

This prompt is Not Suitable for Your Workplace

Duck stretches out on the cushy lounge seat at “Woofs,” his favorite gay bar in the city. He’s in a celebratory mood, having scored a promotion (okay, so it’s from “almost full time” to “actually full time” ranger, but that’s still pretty damn good). So he’d fucked off to the big city for a night for as a reward.

He’s not sure if he’ll score in another way just yet. Duck isn’t prone to prowling at these places; if a guy is bear hunting and happens to like the look of him, he’s more than happy to dial up his quiet charm. Maybe growl in the guys ear a little and see if that gets them to a car or apartment or somewhere else where his date can bounce in his lap until he comes in some tight, if forgettable, ass. 

He used to be more proactive, but if he’s honest it feels weird being thirty-two and trying to put the moves on a guy who might be ten years younger than him,

As he sips his beer, a flash of white hair catches his eye. At the end of the bar nearest him, a skinny, gangly man of indeterminate age is drawing a finger around the rim of his glass. He turns for a moment in Ducks direction and he’s struck by how strange he looks. Not bad, but like no one Duck’s ever seen before. He doesn’t seem dressed for the setting, in fact he looks a little disheveled, and not in the scruffy way Duck is trying to pull off. 

Duck keeps an eye on him, looking for signs of interest. What he gets is the man staring at his drink for a solid five minutes, stirring it but never drinking. When he finally glances Ducks way again, he looks sad.

No, no way, Duck is not spending the night he set aside to relax and get laid seeing if someone random guy at a bar is okay. 

The seat next to the mystery man opens up. 

Duck stands. 

“Mind if I sit here?” He gives his most neutral smile.

The pale-haired man stares at him, eyes seeming far away behind the red lenses of his glasses. 

“Oh, no, go right ahead.” He flashes a tight, oddly wide smile, goes back to staring at his drink. Takes the tiniest sip and makes a disgusted face.

“Not an Old-fashioned man, huh?”

“I just like the cherries, the rest is too bitter. I saw too late there was an eggnog cocktail. Really only have money for the one drink.”

Duck’s beer is empty. He signals the bartender, orders an Old-Fashioned. When it arrives, he slides it towards the other man, cherry stem pointed at him. 

The man pauses, and to Duck it looks like he’s calculating odds in his head. Then he plucks the cherry from the glass and tugs it off the stem with his teeth. 

“Thank you.” His smile is shy, and this time he doesn’t turn away. So Duck keeps talking.

“Alright, I gotta know, do you only come to this place for cherries?”

“No. I came here because once again no one listened to me and I am so very tired. I thought I could get past my distaste for alcohol in order to get drunk and enjoy not having to think for awhile. No such luck.”

“So you were plannin just to sulk into your drink all night?”

“It was the probable outcome.” He looks longingly at the jar of maraschino cherries just visible on a back shelf.

“Y’know, if you order a shirley temple it’s got a bunch of those in it and no booze.” When the other man perks up he adds, “could even buy one for you, if that ain’t unwelcome.”

The man cocks his head as he looks at him, “Is this a flirtation?”

“Can be, if you want.” Duck takes a casual sip of his drink. The taller mans eyes trace from his hair down to his toes, widening with appreciation the more he takes him.

“I’m certainly interested.” This comes out in a purr, and Duck feels heat spark through his gut.

He’s delighted to find that he made a remarkably good call coming over here. His new friend is odd, yes, but also pretty damn funny, with a cute, crooked smile a promising shape to his ass. As they talk, he relaxes, his glum look vanishing, and he places soft, teasing touches on Ducks hand, arm, and thigh. 

By the time Duck’s finished his drink, he’s pretty sure where this night is going. 

A cherry is resting on the ice in his glass. He plucks it out, holding it between his thumb and finger. His companions’ eyes flick to the fruit, then to Ducks face, and a mischievous grin spreads across his lips. He leans forward, parting them and taking the cherry before licking along Ducks palm. 

“Mmmm” he purrs again, doesn’t bother to put any distance between them. 

“You got a name, darlin?” Duck whispers, voice husky.

“Indrid. And you’re-”

“Duck.” He replies, though it almost sounds like Indrid says it along with him.

“Duck” Indrid repeats, “huh, I like that name.” 

Duck likes it too. And he’s got a hunch he’s going to like it even more when Indrid is moaning it. 

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Ducks’ hunch is correct.

“Duck.” Indrid whines, breathy and needy, pressed against the door of the Winnebago that he apparently calls home, “Duck, please, bedroom, now.” Deft, slender fingers are tugging his shirt open and he’s harder than he’s been in months. 

“Don’t want me to fuck you right here?” He grins, cupping Indrids ass and lifting him off the floor with ease (thank you weird powers he doesn’t want).

“Goodness!” Indrid wraps his legs around Ducks waist, “That was a surprise. I don’t get many of those.”

“Got good news for you, sugar.” Duck purrs, making Indrid wiggled excitedly in his arms, “I’m full of ‘em.”

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Duck wakes up to snow falling in thick sheets beyond the small window in the bedroom. It’s a little later than he meant to wake up, but it’s Sunday and the drive to Kepler isn’t that long so he’s not in that big of a hurry. 

Indrid is curled in his arms, limbs intertwined haphazardly with his own. He makes a small, chirping noise, then cuddles closer.

Duck could probably just get up and go without Indrid noticing. But he’s got manners, and it would be impolite to leave without thanking his host for a lovely time. 

He kisses the top of Indrids’ head, “Mornin, sugar.”

“Nmmmh.” Indrid’s eyes flutter open behind his glasses, then he peers over Ducks shoulder out the window.

“I hate snow. ‘S cold.” He grumbles, burrowing further under the blankets.

“Well, you hunker down for the day then. I gotta get on the road, snow’s liable to make gettin home take way long than I planned.”

“But you’re warm.” He holds Duck tighter, kissing lightly at his neck. 

“And you’re real fuckin cute. But I still gotta go.”

“Very well.” Indrid smiles softly, “I’m glad you decided to celebrate with me last night. Congratulations on being a park ranger. It must be fascinating work. Do you like it?” The sweet, sleepy look on his face makes Duck melt a little.

“I see what you’re tryin to do” he teases, squeezing Indrids ass once for good measure, “you’re tryin to distract me, get me talkin about trees so you can steal my warmth.”

A sly smile this time, “perhaps a little. I won’t really keep you though. If you need to shower, it’s just through there.”

Duck thanks him, slips from the bed and heads into the bathroom. Emerges with a towel around his waist a few minutes later, gathering his clothes from where they were strewn about during last nights activities. Indrid is bundled in a thick, fluffy bathrobe, fiddling with the radio at the front of the trailer. As Duck retrieves his boxers from a lampshade, Indrid murmurs, “oh dear.”

A moment after, the radio informs them that a massive storm is moving through the area, and that travel is inadvisable at best and impossible at worst. 

“Looks like you may be here another night.” Indrid says apologetically, his face lit warmly by the space heaters dotting the Winnebago. 

“Can think of worse things.” He notices Indrid staring, remembers he’s still only in a towel. 

“See somethin you like?”

“I should think that was obvious.”

“I’m tryin to be smooth here, darlin.” 

“Be bold instead.” Indrid licks his lips and Duck shrugs, letting the towel drop to the floor. 

“That bold enough for yAHhhhhnnn, fuck.” Duck is pressed against the kitchen counter, Indrid dropping to his knees and rolling a condom on so swiftly that Duck swears it was like a magic trick, before taking all of Ducks cock in his mouth in one go. 

“Jesus, jesus sugar, oh fuck that feels so good.” He pets his fingers through white hair as Indrid looks up, smug expression clear even as his lips turn shiny with spit and lube.

“That’s, darlin, oh lord have mercy, fuck, your throat is so fuckin tight, feels amazin.” 

Indrid purrs, which makes Duck moan, then guides his other hand down so both a resting in his hair. 

“I’m real close, shit, just a little faster, c’mon, I know you can go faster please.” He whimpers embarrassingly loud when, instead of speeding up, Indrid slows down and blinks up at him with a mockingly innocent expression.

“Oh you fuckin…” Duck growls, orgasm nudged closer by the thought of where this is going. He tangles his fingers in Indrids hair, locks eyes with him.

“Yes?”

Indrid nods. And then Duck is thrusting his hips wild and fast, yanking Indrid back and forth along his cock. The taller man is moaning, blissed-out expression on his face as Duck fucks it. Duck finds filth pouring from his mouth with surprising ease, increasing in gruffness when Indrid moans at the harsher words. 

“Fuckin smartass little tease, oughta keep you on your knees and do this all day so you remember who you’re fuckin with. Oh fuck, Indrid, yes, oh fuck yeah.” He comes hard, forcing Indrids mouth all the way down again.  His hips pulse a few times, but when the man tries to pull away he keeps him trapped.

“Nuh uh, you’re gonna keep suckin til I’m done.”

A high, whimpering purr leaves Indrid, and Duck spies him palming the front of his pajama pants through his robe. Soon, he releases his head and he pulls back with a gasp. He makes a wordless, happy sound, nuzzling along the line of Ducks hips. 

“You want me to take care of that for you, darlin?”

“Yes, please.” 

Duck gathers him up off the floor, sets him on the counter and carefully tugs down his pants. His cock is dripping as Duck closes his hand around it.

“Oh! Oh yes.”

“How do you want it?”

“H-however you wish, but, but please touch the rest of me too.” 

Duck wraps his other arm around him, pulling him close as he steps between his spread legs. He kisses him wherever he can reach, little sighs echoing through trailer when he does. Indrid embraces his, lips trailing along his neck and face, kissing him eagerly. The kisses turn sloppier as Duck tightens his grip, stroking him hard and fast. 

“Kiss me, I want to come while you kiss me.”

“Think I can manage that.” He steadies Indrids head with his free hand, kissing him hard. The other man is making sharp, high noises against his lips and when he comes across Ducks hand and belly the noise changes to something like a trill, muffled as Ducks tongue slips between his lips to meet his own. 

Indrid keeps kissing him dreamily as he comes down from his orgasm. 

“You’re tremendous.” He murmurs under the hum of the space heaters. 

“Right back at you, darlin. Now, let’s go shower and, uh, see where the day takes us.” He says this last part with a grin that suggests they both the answer is “to bed.”

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In the decade that follows, both Indrid and Duck think on that night from time to time. For awhile, neither of them see it as any more than a two-night stand that was particularly excellent, one that they remember fondly.

It takes on irony much sooner for Indrid, but only because he sees what’s coming in a way Duck can’t. Then he nearly forgets about the whole thing because of the Cottonwood and the disasters and the phone calls. 

It’s only when he sees the Pine Guard coming up the trail to his home that realizes Duck Newton is in for quite a surprise. 

#prompt fill #indrid cold/duck newton #Indruck