#WOMEN. JUST WOMEN ❗️❗️ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kitkathatesu · 4 months ago

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𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Johnny Sawyer x Fem!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: ❗️SMUT❗️dub/non-con, (DO NOT READ THIS IF THAT IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU) ❕MDNI❕Use of degradation & praise, (mostly degradation) mentions of violence, alcohol use, kidnapping, canon!Johnny, implied cannibalism, biting, blood & knife play, forced thigh riding + oral (m receiving)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Stopping at a bar in a rural part of Texas proves to be more than a couple shots with a stranger when you find yourself fighting for your life in the front seat of a worn out pickup truck. But fortunately for you, he’s got a knack for the ones who fight back. And fortunately for him, he knows how to wine ‘em and dine ‘em. In more ways than one.

☽✞☾

The Texas air is humid and dry in your nose as it whips through the driver side and passenger window rustling your hair. It’s about 6:00 PM and the sun is starting to set in the distance, the sky painted with orange and yellow hues. You breathe in deeply and sigh, it feels like you’ve been driving for hours and truthfully you have. Your ass is numb, throat is dry, and your eyes are watering from the restless night you’d had right before tearing out of bed and onto the road. Tired is an understatement but you catch an old wooden sign on the side of the road a couple feet in front of you at the corner of your eye, “Newt, population 3,000.”

“Fuck yeah.” You perk up and tap your fingers against the steering wheel happily as you drive down a narrow blacktop road. A gas station to your left, grocery store to your right, and a couple houses in between. It’s pretty rundown. Everywhere you look there seems to be something withering away. And just as you ponder that that’s all there was to this archaic town you come upon this decent sized, surprisingly sturdy looking building with the words Drayton’s Texan Tavern printed above it.

“A bar?” You chew the skin on the inside of your cheek and sit idly. It’s a bit oddly placed, off putting, maybe even a little uncanny from the outside but nonetheless a spot to rest. A spot to let loose and relax like most. So you pull in, park, and hop out of the driver seat onto the pavement. The ache in your lower back starting to fade as you strut your way past different vehicles that are scattered about the parking lot. Many of them rusted and chipping away.

The familiar chime of a bell rings above your head as you push the door open. You’re met with smoke sitting stagnant and smoldering in the dim lighting. The smell of whiskey and cigarettes mixing with the musk of the multiple men and women standing around with drinks in hand chatting amongst themselves. You walk hastily up towards the bar, taking a stool beside a woman that’s obviously drunk slurring to someone stood beside her. You chuckle to yourself, glancing at the menu that’s now slapped down in front of you. Small and black with white lettering.

“What can I do ye for?” A voice echoes over the chatter booming around you. You’re greeted by an old man with a greasy black comb over who stands with a hand on his hip. Sweat glistening on his brow and a discolored handkerchief sluggishly patting it away.

“Ah, I’ll just have two shots of whiskey please.” He looks unamused as you offer him a soft smile. Grabbing the whiskey off of the shelf and pouring you two separate shots. Scoffing to himself as you take them straight to the head.

You see him nod to someone to his left and then walk from behind the bar towards a booth where three rowdy men are yelling at each other. “Hey! There’ll be none of that here boys. Either take it down a notch or take it outside.” He spat. You can’t make out much. But this isn’t anything new considering you’ve had your fair share of bar hopping, so you tune it out.

A black haired girl replaces the older man and you order two more shots. By the time the first two kick in your head is already fuzzy, body is warm and your thighs are sticking to the stool under you. You can’t help but notice a man in your peripherals, he’s not moving but his hands are in his pockets and he has a boot pressed against the wall behind him. A cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, the cherry burning bright reflecting his dark features.

“Would’ya like anything else ma’am?” The bartender asked flatly, leaning in close enough for you to hear her. You sit up straight and swallow before responding. “Yeah actually, I would like-“ What the fuck?

“She’ll have two more shots a’ rye. Make that four if ya would. Thanks doll.” Your breath hitches when you’re cut off, eyes darting over to meet the man who you’d noticed earlier now sitting next to you. “Names Johnny”, he drawled. “Ya got one?” He leered at you. Eyes half lidded and a sly smile pricking at the corner of his lips. Your cheeks heat up when you realize you’d been staring the entire time. Fuck.

“Oh, m’sorry my names Y/N.” You shift in your seat. Embarrassment bubbling up and spilling over through the dark blush that’s crept onto your face. Johnny sucks on his teeth and runs a hand through his hair impatiently. A low sigh falling from his chest when the bartender places the shots down in front of him.

“Here ya go. Enjoy.” She huffed as she turned to tend to the other people around you. Johnny chuckled to himself and slid two of the glasses over to you with the back of his forearm. Your jaw tightened when you turned to face him again, he’s very handsome. Dark hair, freckled skin, even darker eyes. A jagged scar on his cheek, arms toned and exposed, covered in more cuts and scrapes that time has healed over, some look fresher than others. Farm work maybe? Mechanic? Who knows. Who cares.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip. Your vision hazy in your peripherals as your only focus is on him. His jawline is sharp and his lips are pursed as he throws back a shot, butterflies flailing in your stomach when a drop of whiskey slips from his mouth and he wipes it away with a hiss. “C’mon, I can’t be the only one drinkin’. Didn’t get those for nothin’.” Shit. Not again.

“Yeah, sorry about that”, You mumble. Picking up the tiny glass and tilting it against your lips. A lump forming tight in your esophagus when you try to speak again. “M’just a little drunk already, my tolerance is sorta low if I’m being honest.” Your movements feel delayed when you move your head too fast to glance at him.

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with gettin’ a lil tipsy now and then.” Johnny replied. “Though ya don’t really look the type.” He grinned, his eyes subtly draping over your figure. Ugh. Those butterflies from earlier feel like they could snap through your rib cage any minute.

“That so?” You giggle. Taking that last shot straight back before turning to face him. Confidence slowly creeping up your throat which you’re sure is just the whiskey making its rounds as it rushes through your bloodstream.

“I may not look the type, but that’s cause I know how to hide it. I’m real good at it too.” Johnny cocks an eyebrow and sneers, his face bouncing back and forth between confusion and curiosity. “So yer one of them good girls gone bad.” He teased. “And here I was thinkin’ ya were a sweet, innocent thing.”

“And that’s where you were mistaken sir.” You slur, leaning over the bar slightly. Your back arched and your head now laid across your arms, looking at Johnny through heavy lashes. The alcohol has you feeling like you could fuck this man in the back of your car. It also has you feeling like you could be making a big mistake doing so, but what’s life without one or two and you can't exactly tell the difference right now.

Johnny clears his throat as his eyes instinctively carve out the dip in your back. His jaw tightening and his teeth grinding together. You’re a feisty one. He likes that, he likes that a lot. But what he likes even more is that he can almost taste you with the way you look at him.

Your plump lips curved into a drunken smile and your eyes practically begging him to indulge. He swears he can hear your heart pounding, your blood pumping through your veins and it makes his cock strain against his zipper. But what makes it so enticing is that you have no idea what he really wants, what he needs from you.

“So”, Johnny leans in close. Close enough for you to smell his cologne and the cigarettes that stain his breath. “Ya wanna get outta here?” He whispered. His voice honeyed and hoarse, sending shivers down your spine. You don’t know him, you’ve only been here a day and this isn’t even where you’re going to be staying.

“I- uh”, You stutter, picking your head up eyes flicking around at your surroundings anxiously. What do you do? You’ve already flirted. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders, but you’re both drunk. “I actually need to get going soon, I’m supposed to be on my way to a relatives.” Johnny chuckled in response.

“No need ta be shy now honey. I’ll take good care o’ ya.” Johnny licked his lips and breathed heavily, hot breath fanning over the side of your face. “What happened ta that fire in ya darlin’? Did I snuff it out or are ya scared that I’ll prove ya right.” You swallow harshly. Panic starting to settle in where those butterflies were.

“No- I just need to go”, You stammer. Sucking in a sharp breath to steady yourself as you stand up from your seat, the once warm look on Johnny’s face turning stern and cold. The air around you now suffocating, starving your lungs of oxygen as you study the way his entire demeanor had changed in an instant.

“It was nice to meet you truly. Thank you for the drinks. You’re more than welcome to walk me out if you’d like.” You added with a nervous smile. Johnny sat there unmoving. Eerily still like he was stuck in place, you grimace at the sick feeling that churns in your stomach when you offer him an uneasy hand. His eyes could burn holes into yours, staring blankly back at you. Had your words fell upon deaf ears?

“Of course. Would be rude o’ me not to walk ya out after gettin’ ya all flustered. My apologies.” You stumble slightly when he abruptly shoots upwards, his gloved hand held out to you. You take it with a nod of your head and he smiles. His hand holding yours ever so gently you almost feel bad as you walk hesitantly towards the door. Maybe the alcohol is clouding your judgement. But better safe than sorry.

The bell chimes above you and you’re sucked into the dark that’s swallowed daylight whole. The parking lot is emptier than what it was when you got here, when you look farther out there’s nothing for miles other than this broken little town. It feels lonely, like the ground itself craves liveliness and it's hanging on by a thread. Or a noose, whichever one is wearing thin.

You breathe in the crisp night air and let out an exasperated sigh at how good it smells but how heavy your body feels on top of your sore feet. You'll be glad to get some rest at the nearest Hotel you can find. Johnny drops your hand as you stagger up to your vehicle, letting his back slump against the passenger side door as you stand idly beside him. Admiring him once more.

“Well“, You said softly. “Thank you. I had a good time.” Johnny flashes a smirk, his lips alone giving you butterflies all over again. But something strange seems to lurk behind his charming alliciency. Something watching, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself. “No problem doll. Ya shoulda took me up on that offer, woulda had plenty more fun.” He teased. Winking at you like some High Schooler.

You giggle, arms crossing over your stomach. "Maybe we could do this again sometime if I'm ever back up this way." You added assuringly. Johnny's shoulders dropped with a huff as he pushed himself off of your car. Pausing for a moment as if waiting for you to react to such a bitchy cue that he's disappointed. Oh well.

You tuck your hair behind your ear. Looking up at the stars then back to him. “I better get going. It’s already late and I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.” Johnny rolled his eyes, earning a scowl from you that you tried to mask but failed miserably. “Nice meeting you.” You scoffed.

Walking to the opposite side of the car you open the door and hop in. Reaching to turn the key over but it doesn’t start. The engine rattles to life then sputters out completely. That’s when you realize something is wrong. AGAIN. Good, great. Love that.

“Somethin’ a matter?” Johnny mocked, a shit eating grin spread across his face. You groan, can’t have a moments peace even after drinking to ease the stress of it all. “Goddamn it, why me.” You grumble. Hands smacking the steering wheel, frustration evident as Johnny sauntered over tapping on your hood.

“Pop it. Let me take a look.” He offered and you don’t hesitate. Maybe he’ll be able to figure out what’s causing the old shit box to fuck up now. He hollers from under the hood and you lean your head against the wheel praying to whomever may be listening that it’s nothing more than a dead battery or a loose wire.

“So I’ve got bad news. Looks like ya won’t be goin’ nowhere soon, ‘specially not tomorrow unless ya wanna blow up on the way there.” You chuckle loudly, sarcasm lacing your words together as Johnny closes your hood and pats some grease off of his gloves and onto his jeans. “Could take my chances and see how long it takes for it to catch fire.”

Johnny glanced behind him and his jaw tightens when he faces you again like he was being watched. “Or ye could wait it out and I could have my old man fix it for ya sometime in the afternoon. Get ya back on the road in no time.” That’s the last thing you wanted, last thing you needed to do. Your family will be pissed if you don’t make it before sunrise. You can hear them now.

“Any chance you know what you’re doing and could temporarily fix it? Good enough to get me out of Texas?” Johnny groaned loudly, his Onyx eyes meet yours and chills climb up your spine. He tsks as he stalks over. Now towering above your body with his arm stretched over the length of the car door, staring down at you without a word. It’s silent between you other than the crickets and frogs chirping away in the distance. Something feels off. “..Johnny?”

“Was hopin' you'da changed yer mind by now. But I shoulda' known ya wouldn’t put out that easy.” You sit frozen as he inched closer, not grasping what he’d just said. But the fog in your brain clears when he lunges at you like a rabid dog. “Yer Mama ever tell ya not to talk too strangers!?” He hissed through gritted teeth. His voice now raucous and ringing in your ears when you're met with his hands wrapped around your throat. You gnash your teeth.

“I- Please, fuc-“ Spit sputters out of your mouth and your eyes pop open wide, your fingers instinctively clawing at his wrists. He’s going to kill you right here is what you tell yourself over and over, but you know better than that. And with what you suspects to come you wish he would but you know that’ll never happen.

“Yer gonna be real pretty to look at. ‘Specially when I’ve got ya strung up cracked open and bloody.” Johnny's pupils blow wide at the doe like look in your eyes, the fear and the realization that pings through you as his hand closes tighter around your windpipe.

Goddamn you look good like that. Johnny yearns to see just how far you can go. How long you can last when his knife is plunged deep and your blood spills. How could he resist when that image burns bright in the back of his mind? You fell right for him just like he knew you would. Like they all do. That’s okay. He likes ‘em stupid. But there’s something about the way you continue to fight him when you know it’s no use that ignites that disgusting fire within him.

A wicked grin stretches his lips thin and a groan rumbles in the back of his throat when your fists pound helplessly at his chest. “Fuckin’ stupid bitch, what’dya think this was?” You try and breathe between broken sobs, digging your nails into his skin as hard as you can. Punching, scratching, kicking. He doesn’t budge.

“Seems I oughta teach ya a lesson or two ‘bout what it means to be a woman ‘round these parts darlin'." He snarled. Teeth bared, nostrils flaring as one of his hands tears at your scalp. You yelp like a kicked puppy, your hair tucked tightly between his nimble fingers, the force stinging like a 1,000 tiny bees. You can feel every strand beneath his grasp breaking and pulling away at the follicle.

Your eyes well with tears when you’re violently yanked from the front seat and thrown to the cold ground. It swipes the air right out of your lungs when your back pummels the dirt. Your face twisting along with your limbs. Pain radiating from the fresh scrapes and scratches that scatter along your spine. “Shut up!”

His other hand quickly clasps your mouth shut denying you of the breath you so desperately need to take. Shirt riding all the way up and the back of your thighs continuing to scrape along the asphalt as he jerks and drags you by your hair to what you assume is his vehicle.

You flail your legs in a hopes to throw him off balance, but all you do is fuck up your knee in the process when he rips you upwards and hip tosses you into the backseat of a pickup truck.

“Johnny please- Please don’t do this!” You squeal. Digging your elbows into the old tattered seat, trying to pull yourself away from him when he starts to crawl over you. 𝙉𝙤, 𝙣𝙤 𝙣𝙤 𝙣𝙤. You panic, what do you do?! Where do you go? No one will hear you, no one can.

You struggle to gather yourself mentally, your internal conscience screaming for you to do something, anything. And that’s when fight or flight rips what remaining nerves you have left to shreds and your whole body begins to tremble. That adrenaline that'd been lying dormant sending your hurt knee straight to his groin when his legs threaten to lock yours in place. “Fuck you, you sick fuck!”

“Yeah! Augh that’s it-“ He winced and you paused, watching his brows knit together and his head drop down with a grunt, picking it up slowly, jaw cocked open as he breathed in deep through his nose. “Hit me.” He rasped. Wearing a smile so vile it makes you want to vomit.

Acid burns the back of your throat when your head slumps against the inside of the door. That adrenaline you had flickering in and out as you ponder on what your family will think when you don’t show up. When you never give them a call. You wish you would’ve spoken to them sooner, or talked to them a little longer when you had the chance. Tears fall down your cheeks and your heart breaks as you stare back at what you deem the Devil himself.

You suck in a deep breath, shoulders rising as you prepare to scream with all your lungs can muster, but your mouth is quickly met with four gloved fingers pushing deep into the back of your throat. Eliciting a loud gag from you. The taste of old leather and grime sitting sour on your tongue, you shake your head and bite down hard against his knuckles. He snorts and his tongue darts out like a serpent snaking across his bottom lip. “Get the fuck off of me!”

“You were right about one thing, ain’t nothin’ innocent ‘bout this mouth o’ yours.” He jested, pulling his saliva coated digits out of your mouth, smearing them down your face with a smirk. You cough in response, the slight tickle in the back of your throat and his weight now baring down on top of you leaving you breathless. Brainless, almost incoherent.

“Fuck you.” You utter, moving your hand to smack that smug look right off his face but it’s stilled. You groan in protest when you notice he’s got your wrists pinned above your head with one hand. The other one God knows where and you glance around for anything you could possibly use to subdue him. Even a little.

Johnny leans down, his face just inches above yours. “And here I was thinkin’ you’d be just like all the others”, he whispered musing himself as he watched your facial expressions crinkle up and change ever so often. “Cryin’, beggin’ for yer life but no.” You swallow hard. Anger and fear fusing together in the pit of your stomach as he slowly starts to pick you apart, poking and prodding at your psyche.

His words squeeze their way into your frontal lobe and wedge themselves between your legs as his other hand traces along your abdomen, his fingers curling into the thin flesh between your ribs making you hiss and squirm beneath him. “Here ya are.. Barely makin’ a fuckin’ peep waitin’ to see what I’ll do next. It’s almost like ya wanna see, and I gotta hand it to ya sweetheart. You’ve done a lot more than pique my interest.” He paused, brushing stray hair out of your face, tilting his head to the side as if to admire you. And briefly he was, but his focus was on the way you smelled. The way he can imagine a sea of cherry flavored waves crashing through your body and how sweet it’ll be when it spills and splashes onto his tongue.

You blink away tears, lower lip quivering as he nudges your jawline with his nose. Sending chills down your spine when he nuzzles into your pulse point. “Goddamn, you smell s’good. Bet you’ll taste even better on the inside.” He muttered and a surge of adrenaline ripped through you once more. He’s not going to kill you, he’s going to eat you. He’s the widow, you’re the fly. He’ll suck you dry from the inside till you’re nothing more than a hollowed out shell of who you once were. Empty.

“What- What do you- FUUCKKK?! Oh my GOD!” You cry out in agony, white hot lightning searing through your skin just above your hipbone. Your teeth bare down so hard they could break. “That’s it, lemme hear ya scream for me.” Johnny growled, that gnawing need to use you growing stronger with each thrash of your hips under him. You were fucked.

And that’s when you realize you’d been cut. You never seen the blade but you knew nothing else would slice that quick and clean. Blood trickles down the dip in your waist. Wet and warm soaking into the seat as your head swims and your body writhes in pain. Johnny’s hand releases the hold on your wrists and grabs your jaw, pushing your lips into a pout as he moves your face side to side. His fingers digging into the fat of your cheeks roughly.

“What’sa matter huh?” He asked knowing the answer, its never changed. You stare at him blankly. “Cat got yer tongue?” No response. Okay. We’ll see ‘bout that.

Johnny brings his hunting knife into view. The glint of the blade now evident as the streetlight reflects off of the cold, bloodied, steel. You silently seethe with rage and he raises his eyebrows, pulling your face closer to his by the pinch of your cheeks. “Mmmm, there ya are. I knew ya were still in there somewhere.”

Your eyes burn and your heart pounds so hard you feel it in your temples. Pulsing along to the beat. Thump, thump, thump. The air around you both thick like cement and the fire that’s flickering alive between your legs has you reeling with shame. Looking up at him with pleading eyes, unable to understand what you truly want when it doesn’t even matter.

“Yer lookin’ at me like ya want a kiss baby doll”, Johnny husked. Low and rumbly, purring like a Tom cat but you knew his claws were bound to dig in deep and never let go. Your jaw coils up tight and you raise your head just slightly, nose to nose with him. “Fuck you.” You hiss between gritted teeth. Pathetic.

“You poor, sweet, thing.” He said with mock astonishment, bringing the tip of his blade to your bottom lip burying it against the plumpness of it with a chuckle. “Yer gonna break like fuckin’ glass when I’m done with ya.”

Didn’t take much for the sharpness of it to break skin and your body jolts at the temporary sting, blood slowly trickling down your chin. Johnny groaned at the sight, his mouth opening temporarily as his smooth tongue laps up the crimson stream sickly. Not wasting anytime attacking your lips in a hungry kiss you did not reciprocate. You grimaced and pressed your lips into a harsh line but he nipped at the already broken skin and your mouth opened up with a whine. His tongue lathing yours with the taste of copper and tobacco.

Something within you gives and he takes. Your hand snakes into his hair, gliding through the greasiness of it. Meeting the starving pace of his lips against yours, surprise etching his features when he pulls away to laugh at you. “Oh honey, yer achin’ for it. I knew ya would.”

Johnny yanks you up by the collar of your shirt and swiftly switches his position pulling you onto his lap. Your thighs straddle him and his lips crash to yours once more, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, letting them lay atop his shoulders. Rough hands grab at your hips, and you moan into his mouth. His cock hard underneath you. The friction of it burning hot against your core you can’t help but roll your hips, chasing that little bit of pleasure that’s so close your head spins.

“Don’t even think about it.” He growled, stilling your desperate movements, the pads of his thumbs digging deep into your soft skin. You shudder when you feel the blunt end of his blade now pressed to your sternum. “I’ll bleed ya fuckin’ dry ya try that again, understand?”

You nod your head and Johnny’s cock twitches at the submission. “Good girl.” He spoke like velvet lined his vocal cords and you mewl when his lips attach to your throat with teeth and tongue. He knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The warmth, the salty sweet taste of you, and the carnal need to plunge the thick steel of his hunting knife into your abdomen makes him pant like a dog.

One of his hands wanders farther down, kneading and grabbing the fat of your ass by the handfuls as the other moves you slightly, your slick core pressing against the top of his thigh now. You’re sure the wetness that’s pooled out of you is soaking through. “Ya wanna feel good?” He droned, looking at you with a predatory gaze that could rip you apart without a single touch to your skin.

“Yes, yeah I do.” You mumble, the tone in your voice half hearted and shaky. You’re just as deranged as he is. “Please make me feel good.”

“Look at that. Leakin’ through yer panties like a little slut. Gettin’ off at the thought of what I’ma do to ya, knowin’ it won’t end in your favor.” Johnny sighed. His breath hot and heavy.

“I’ma bad man Y/N, a real bad man. But you don’t care, ye hardly mind as long as that greedy cunt between yer legs is satisfied.” His eyes were like obsidian, black and blood thirsty. Yours were glassy from the tears that hadn’t failed to stream mercilessly down your face, stained black as your mascara smears. Looking down at him with your brows knitted together, mind battered and breaking at how much you sadly ache for him. “Johnny, please?” Please.

“Go on then”, he spoke softly. “Ride my thigh.” Your mouth twitches and your thoughts haze, disassociation settling in briefly. “I said”, Johnny huffed, growing more impatient by the second as you sat there. His hand met your cheek with a loud slap, the skin there turning bright red, making your voice break out into a sob. “Rub yer fuckin’ cunt on my thigh, or I’ll leave yer pretty lil body layin’ on the side of the road like a slab of rancid meat.”

Your eyes well with tears once more, trying to find the words to say, barely grasping a thought in your head and the opportunity is ripped from you with another hard slap to your face. “Please I’m sorry!” You whine, saliva tinged red sitting metallic on your tongue. He scoffs and before you have time to process your pussy is now flush against his jean clad thigh, grinding your hips back and forth the length of it.

“Gotta do everythin’ my fuckin’ self huh?” He sneered, canines bared with a cocky smirk. His thumbs digging into your hips, earning a soft moan from your swollen lips as he slightly bounces his knee underneath you. “What was that darlin’? Can’t quite hear ya.” Johnny cooed. His nose tracing your jawline, a pleased hum rumbling in his chest when you buck your hips.

“Feels good.” You sigh breathlessly, eyes rolling back as you start to work with the push and pull of his strong hands. Rocking yourself at a steady pace, fingernails leaving indents into his scarred skin. Memories he won’t forget. Memories you won’t forget.

“That’s right baby. I can really feel ya soakin’ through now, dirty fuckin’ girl. Nasty.” His voice is like an old Country song playing on the radio, begging you to sing along. Southern twang making your heart flutter and cheeks flush.

Mama always said Christian girls should only listen to the word of our God. But the only thing you can hear right now is the ringing in your ears as you feel yourself roaring towards your first orgasm. Preach to me, Oh Lord.

“Oh fuck- Fuck!” You mewl, Johnny’s hands resting on top of your thighs now but you don’t notice. Your hips moving on their own accord. His eyes glued to your face as your jaw falls slack and your lungs give with such a pretty, pathetic, noise that he almost feels sorry for you. Like a bunny caught by the tail.

“Oh sweet girl, look at ya.” He rasped, cocking his head up, licking a Hell kissed stripe up your chin to your sensitive lips. Making you whine in protest when he pushes you off of his lap, his arms now draping over the back of the seat. Lazily opening his legs, clicking his tongue with a chuckle. “Yer turn.” He gestured with his hand, pointing to his rock hard length painfully restricted to his leg in the confines of his jeans.

The silence is mind numbing. Your body swarms with guilt and utter disgust blooms deep in your guts. How could you let such a depraved man use you like this? You’re going to die, your family will never see you again. Yet your gaze still shifts from him to his zipper, swallowing harshly as you close your eyes and move to your knees. They dig uncomfortably into the old itchy fabric of the seat.

“Get ta work doll. Ain’t got all night.” You wince at the reality of what happens next, an immobilizing weight hanging around your neck. You’d rather eat shit than get this man off.

But to your surprise he gently pushes his gloved hand through your hair, massaging part of your scalp as he got to work on his zipper with the other. His cock springing free, smacking against his abdomen and you marvel at the sight. Thick, about 7 inches. Slightly curved. You squirm anxiously, inching towards him with your back arched. Face down ass up.

“I said- Ah, fuuuckkk.” Johnny groaned pornographically, head tipping back eyes fluttering shut when your small hand wrapped around the base. Carefully angling your lips right above his aching cock, letting a wad of saliva pool out of your mouth and onto his slit. Watching as it slowly drips down the fat of it, glistening in the street light shining through the windshield. You’re too far gone to stop now.

“That’s it, put it in yer mouth- Fuck yeah, just like that.” His bottom lip curls under his teeth when your hand glides down and twists back up just beneath the tip, using your thumb to rub at the underside of it as your plump lips wrap around what’s left to fit in your mouth. His hips buck and his grip tightens in your hair. A guttural growl rumbling in his chest when you take him deeper in without warning. Bobbing your head up and down aggravatingly slow.

“Gotta do better than that sweetheart.” You whine around him and gag simultaneously. His fist pounds against the back of his hand that’s clamped into your hair like a vice. Forcing the last inch of him to stab into the back of your throat. Your lips now sitting sloppy against his balls, nose pressed into the thick thatch of hair at the base of his cock. The smell of musk and spit heavy in your nostrils.

Johnny scrapes his fingers through your tangled locks, breath rugged and chest heaving. He smirks to himself when your nails dig into the fabric of his jeans, your throat tightening around him with gag after gag. Tears stream down your face, vision blurry and hazing at the lack of oxygen. “Whores don’t need ta’ breathe, do they Y/N?”

Your eyes roll and your cunt squeezes around nothing. Drooling uncontrollably with the tip of his cock shoved harshly against the back of your throat, his pre cum leaking sickeningly sweet at the back of your tongue. He isn’t going to last much longer and though part of your mind is waiting for it to be over, the other part is yearning for more. For a release you’ll never get.

“Fuck”, he hissed. Your lungs threatening to give out till his hips buck and you’re granted one short breath, but it’s not long till he’s fucking your throat so hard that it hurts.

“That’s right bitch- Take it. M’gonna fuckin’ cum.” Johnny had to bite back a whine when you broke out into a sob, a slobbering mess all for him and he reveled in the way you struggled to swallow his length. Struggled to keep yourself together.

His balls tense and he gives a couple stuttering thrusts and that’s it. He slams your head down once more with a loud groan and hot, thick, spurts of cum shoot down your throat. Rope after rope, making you choke and sputter. Spit and snot mingling as your nose runs and he pulls you off his cock with a wet pop. Tucking himself back into his jeans without another word. You wipe your face and sniffle, body trembling from the fear and arousal that’s clung to your nerves and between your thighs.

“Knew you’d be a good fuck.” He chuckled, a cynical expression on his face. “Could tell by the way those lips curved. S’shame I didn’t get to play with that pussy, though there’ll be plenty of time for that later.” What? No.. There wouldn’t be, not in a million fucking years.

“Go to Hell!” You took your last chance and shot up bolting to grab at the door handle, hand still slick with spit and surprisingly it pops open and you almost fall out. But there was no escaping this man, he knew what he wanted and what he wanted was you. If he had to track you down to the ends of the Earth he would and he’d succeed. “Not quite yet sugar.”

Johnny yanked you back by your hair and you screamed to no avail. It was muffled by a rag, his big hand holding it tightly over your mouth and nose. With each breath your eyes grew heavier and heavier, a sweet smell lingering deep in your sinuses when you finally fall victim to sleep. Johnny let your head slump back into his chest before laying you down in the seat beside him, giving your ass a hard pat.

“Time ta go home, get ya settled in with the rest of the muts rottin’ down in the basement.” He tsked, hurriedly pulling away from the bar. Tires screeching down the road, white smoke billowing behind while you lay there in your drug induced slumber. Though you could faintly hear the rumble of his voice you couldn’t make out what he was saying. “I’ll make a pretty lil pup outta you darlin’. You’ll see.”

#slasher fandom #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm game #slasher fucker #slasher x reader #slasher x you #horror #johnny tcm #johnny slaughter #johnny sawyer x reader #johnny slaughter smut #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny sawyer

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sturniluvr · 8 months ago

Text

Meet the brother

Jude Bellingham x Leclerc!reader

Charles Leclerc x sister!reader

Lando Norris x platonic!reader (not much)

word count: 1.9k

warnings: slight language, possibly wrongly translated French (I used google translate😭)

requested?: yes/no (here)

summary: McLaren reserve driver Y/N Leclerc, younger sister of the Leclerc brothers, gets her first chance to drive in F1 at the Imola GP and her brother finds out about her secret boyfriend, Real Madrid footballer, Jude Bellingham.

A/N: Hope you like this anon <3

❗️semi proof read❗️

Y/N Leclerc, the youngest Leclerc and current McLaren reserve driver for Oscar Piastri, was about to have her first race in an F1 car. Oscar was out with appendicitis (Carlos who?👀) so she had been brought in, much to some toxic male f1 fans disappointment due to ‘women not belonging in f1’. She stood in her driver room, her bottom half clad in the papaya coloured race suit and top half covered by her fireproofs, nerves taking over her body, despite having won the f2 championship last season and being comforted by her older - and favourite, not that she’d ever admit it - brother the night before.

*flashback*

Y/N was in Charles’ hotel room in Italy, pacing back and forth having just got off the phone with her boss, Zak. He told her that Oscar was unable to race and that she’d have to race in his place.

“Charles, what if I completely fuck it up?!” She shouted, her hands gripped her hair practically ripping it out.

“Y/N, you won’t fuck it up it’ll all be fine okay?” Charles said as he took a seat at the end of the bed, next to his girlfriend Alex, looking over at his distressed sister.

“je suis tellement nerveux (im so nervous)” She muttered, wishing her boyfriend of 3 months, footballer, Jude Bellingham, was here to hug and comfort her.

“tu es un pilote extraordinaire, tout ira bien, chérie (you’re an amazing driver, you’ll be fine sweetheart)” Alex said to the younger girl, Alex made her way over to her sister in law and gave her a quick hug and little Leo made his way over the girls, the mini dachshund wanting attention. Alex picked him up and held him in her arms.

“Y/N will be alright won’t she baby?” Alex whispered in a baby voice at the puppy, him responding in a soft bark and what looked like a little smile on his face as he looked at his human auntie.

“Thank you buddy” Y/N replied, chuckling a little bit at the puppy.

Charles made his way over to his girlfriend and little sister. He took his sister in his arms and rubbed her back in a comforting manner.

“Y/N je te promets que tout ira bien, je serai sur la piste avec toi et dans le paddock toute la journée si tu as besoin de moi Y/N/N, tu es champion de F2 pour une raison (Y/N i promise you will be fine, ill be on the track with you and in the paddock all day if you need me Y/N/N, you’re f2 champion for a reason)” Charles whispered to the Y/H/C girl and she nodded in her brothers arms.

She thanked the couple for calming her down slightly and left their hotel room and made her way to her own room and got ready for bed.

*end of flashback*

She’s brought out of her own world by the sound of a knock on her driver room door. She opens the door to find Lando who she’s known for a couple years and he’s been super supportive towards her, he’s almost like another brother to her.

“Hey kiddo, you alright?” He asked the younger woman as he walks into the driver room and sat down on the sofa.

“Hey Lando, yeah just a bit nervous that’s all” she replied to the curly haired driver “would be easier if Jude was here aswel” she added on. Lando nodded in understanding, he was one of the few people who knew about her and Jude and Y/N made Lando promise not to tell any of her brothers until she knew how to tell them.

“Why don’t you just try and give him a quick ring or something before we go on the track, we’ve still got at least an hour” Lando suggested, pointing to her phone that laid on the sofa next to him.

“Yeah I’ll give him a call, see if he answers” Y/N responds. Lando gave the younger woman a quick hug before he made his way out of her driver room to do his own thing before the race.

Y/N picked her phone up and unlocked it. She pressed on the contact for her loving boyfriend and pressed the FaceTime button, praying he’d answer. Much to the drivers dismay, he didn’t pick up, but he almost immediately sent her a message as to why he couldn’t pick up.

she put her phone back on the sofa and finished getting ready for the race.

Little did she know, Jude wasn’t actually at training, he was currently flying from Madrid to Italy to surprise her. He had planned it with lando last minute and he couldn’t wait to see his girl.

*time skip to the race*

Y/N was currently p6 just behind lando with a few laps to go, Max Verstappen in the lead as per usual and Charles was just behind checo in p4.

While Y/N was on the track, Jude was currently stood in the McLaren garage watching the race, his brown eyes focused on her car. The drivers had just finished the final lap and he was beaming with pride and happiness for his girl, he never had a single doubt about her.

“Y/N congratulations on your first f1 race! That’s p6, p6!” Y/N heard her race engineer, Lauren, speak through her ear piece, Y/N let out a little cheer and replied “thank you, we did great” to which Lauren agreed and Y/N drove her car over to parc fermé (a/n: I think that’s how it happens I’m not 100% sure😅) and she got out the car and made her way over Lando who had just got out of his car he gave her a quick well done hug.

“You did great kid” he complimented the woman next to him.

“You did great too lan” she replied as she reciprocated the hug.

The pair made their way over to the garage where they were met with words of congratulations and pats on the back. Andrea made his way over to the drivers with a pleased look on his face. He spoke with Lando first and after they finished talking, Lando leaves the conversation and makes his way to his driver room to freshen up. Andrea turned his focus onto the female in front of him.

“Well done Y/N you had an amazing race you should be proud of yourself, we all are, me and Zak especially” the older man praised with a smile on his face that the young driver copied.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to race for McLaren and I’m proud of myself too” she replied, smiling at Andrea.

“Good you should be. Now, go to your driver room, there may or may not be something waiting for you” Andrea spoke cryptically. She nodded slightly, a bit confused and she made her way to her driver room.

She opened the door and the sight before her made her smile grow even bigger. Her boyfriend stood there with a giant smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers for her. She immediately ran to him and threw her arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Jude! What are you doing here? You said you had training” Y/N asked the footballer, her words muffled in his neck.

“I never had training today silly, I was allowed to have it off so I could come see you. You did amazing baby I’m so proud of you!” He grinned down at his girlfriend. She took the flowers from him and thanked him by pressing a loving kiss to his lips which he reciprocated.

They got interrupted by a knock on her door and the sound of her brothers voice.

“Y/N are you in here? Lando told me you would be” Charles said as he opened the door, only to be met with the sight of his little sister with a man he didn’t recognise and his sister placing a bouquet of flowers on the sofa.

“Y/N qui est-ce? (Y/N who is this?)” Charles asked, confusion evident on the Monegasques face.

“avant de répondre, s'il te plaît, ne le dis pas à Arthur ou Lorenzo et reste calme (before I answer, please do not tell Arthur or Lorenzo and stay calm)” the girl replied. Charles hesitantly nodded before signalling for her to carry on talking.

“Charles, this is Jude, my boyfriend, Jude this is one of my older brothers, Charles” Y/N introduced them to one another.

“You have more older brothers?!” Jude asked, freaked out, Y/N let out a little laugh at her boyfriend.

“Jude, they’re fine, they’re all bark no bite, especially Charles here. He’s a big softie” she teased, looking at her older brother, who was currently staring at Jude suspiciously.

“What are your intentions with Y/N here?” Charles asked as he loosely wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulder, she rolled her eyes slightly at his protective nature.

“Charles, I promise I have every good intention, I would never hurt her, I flew out from Madrid just to watch her first f1 race. I love her.” Jude replied to Charles. Charles stared at him suspiciously, then took his arm from around Y/N’s shoulder, and smiled at Jude as he held his hand out to him, which Jude shook as he smiled back at Charles, feeling relief take over his body. The boys let the handshake go as Charles spoke

“Welcome to the family buddy, just know Arthur and Lorenzo will try and interrogate you, dont let them scare you they’re all bark and no bite like she said” Charles stated with a little chuckle “we’re just protective of Y/N, even more so since our father passed.” Charles added on.

“That’s understandable, I’d be protective too if I had a little sister.” Jude replied.

“Do you have any siblings?” Charles asked the taller man. Y/N stood looking amused at the height difference between her boyfriend and brother as the boys conversed.

“One younger brother that’s it” Jude replied to Charles. Suddenly, Charles’ eyes filled with mischief as he whispered to jude, but still loud enough for Y/N to still hear what he’s saying.

“When Y/N was younger, she came running to me crying because she crus-“ he got cut off by his sister’s hand slapping over his mouth to stop him from finishing the embarrassing story.

“Don’t even think about telling him that story Charles” she warned Charles, half joking half serious, it was a pretty embarrassing moment of her life from when she was 5 years old and cried over accidentally crushing a snail. The boys just laughed at her flushed cheeks.

“I’m going to have a quick shower, you two can wait in here if you want. No more story telling Leclerc!” Y/N pointed at her brother, the trio laughing, knowing that as soon as she was in the bathroom and couldn’t hear them, he will finish the story he was telling Jude before she stopped him.

“We’ll wait here babe, Get to know eachother” Jude replied to his girlfriend, she nodded and made her way into the small bathroom in her driver room and she closed the door behind her and smiled as she heard two of her favourite men getting along and laughing together. She turned on the shower and got herself ready to hop in the shower before going back to the hotel for the night.

#f1 #formula 1 #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude x you #jude bellingham #jude x reader #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham imagines #Jude bellingham fluff #mclaren #lando norris #charles leclerc #tumblr fyp

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zombiekooo · 1 year ago

Text

❗️S M U T ! Honestly just filthy. Cunninglings, blowjobs, dominant reader, submissive Daryl, vaginal sex. You name it. Complete NSFW ❗️(also on a03– titled Ride Along)

Rick doesn’t want to risk accepting new people into the prison. Daryl sees no threat in one lone woman.

It was late. Far later for a lady like you to be walking these streets, Daryl thought.

How’d he spot you? He asks himself the same damn thing. You were dressed in a black cloak like some bandit, a bag nearly twice the size of you on your back, and a silver gun in your right hand. Maybe it was the shine the gun gave from the car’s headlight’s that caught his attention. Or maybe it was the glisten of your eyes, peering beneath the hood you wore ever so slightly. It didn’t matter.

All he knew was that there was a woman alone in these woods without an idea that the direction she was heading was straight into the hands of walkers.

“Rick, stop the car.” Daryl says, already unbuckling his belt.

Rick slows down, confused. He hadn’t seen you until Daryl pointed you out— walking the opposite direction from the car and ignoring them completely.

“Daryl, we’re not taking anyone into the prison right now.” Rick replies, picking up speed once again, but Daryl was already out of the car and jogging towards you, leaving Rick with no choice but to stop the car completely.

“Hey, you!”

You pause. He notices the way you clutch your gun, your arm trembling and the way your chest fell unevenly. You turn around apprehensively, eyes wide and scared.

“Hey there, m’not gonna hurt you.” Daryl lowers his crossbow, comfortable with the distance the walkers had from you.

“I don’t have anything valuable,” You reply, a distinct quiver in your voice. “Don’t make me use up my bullets.” You point the gun at him.

Rick got out of the car, which startled you enough to nearly lose grip of the gun. Your eyes dart from one to the other, going through the options you have to escape.

“We ain’t here to collect any of your stuff. Just concerned is all,” Daryl says, lifting his free arm above him. “We want to know if you’re okay.”

“I am fine.” You’re quick to reply.

Rick comes up behind Daryl to get a better look at you.

“She says she’s fine. C’mon now, let’s go.” He says,

“Nah, nah. I ain’t leaving just yet. She looks too young to be round’ here alone.” Daryl takes a couple steps closer, just enough to get a decent look at your face.

You were young, younger than he was for sure, but most likely in your mid twenties. Your wide eyes full of terror made you seemed younger from a distance. Like a bunny about to be scavenged by wolves.

His eyes dart down to your hand that held the silver gun. It’s oozing blood out from the darkness of your cloak, and pooling at your fingertips, sullying the silver gun.

“We’ve got a camp not too far from here. There’s people who’d be happy to look at that wound of yours.” He says, confident in taking another step closer. When he sees that you don’t back away, he takes another.

“And what do you expect out of all this? Is this just the kindness from your heart?” You sneer. You’re having trouble keeping grip of the gun. It has become slippery with your blood.

“You ain’t gotta take the offer, but if I were you, I’d get that injury treated before them walkers begin to smell it.” Daryl shrugs. He’s close enough to be able to take the gun from your hands but, he’s too afraid to make any daring move in case you get spooked.

He sees the fear fan across your face for a split second.

Rick seems to have given up on getting Daryl to think otherwise.

“We got lots of women your age at the camp. They’d be happy to see another kind face.” Rick elaborates.

You step back the moment Rick takes another step. You hesitantly return your gaze to Daryl. You watch how he extends his hand.

“There’s no reason a lady like you should be walking these streets.”

————

You end up in the backseat of the van behind Daryl. You’re still hesitant about leaving with the two men, but you seem to have run out of options. Your arm throbs and you feel fresh blood slither down your forearm. You had broken the lousy stitches you had done with your non-dominant hand when drawing your gun.

“That isn’t a walker bite, is it?” Rick asks from behind the wheel, glancing at you through the mirror.

“No. Got caught on some barbed wire.” You reply vaguely.

Rick hums in response.

“Where were you headed? Down where we came from there was a huge herd of walkers. We had just grazed it when coming back.”

You frown. You had no idea that was such a red zone.

“Nowhere.” You rasp.

Rick decides that it was no use getting anymore information from you, so he turns to Daryl.

Daryl sighs and stretches, turning around the car seat and looks at you.

“How many walkers have ya’ killed? People?”

You eye him carefully, but you trust him more than the other, considering that he was the one who insisted on helping you in the first place.

“I haven’t killed many. Maybe two dozen of what you call ‘walkers’. I’m not good with a gun, only killed when I had too.” You say.

Daryl nods, looking back at Rick for guidance. You see him nod and persuade him to continue.

“What bout’ people?”

Daryl sees you hesitate for a moment. Closing your mouth, opening it, then shutting it again.

“I only killed someone before they could turn.” You say, quieter than before.

Daryl nods and turns back around, slouching in his seat.

“Seems pretty harmless to me.” He says to Rick.

Rick says nothing, only giving you one last glance through the mirror before turning his attention to the road.

————

Daryl walks you to his cell before introducing you to the group. He attempts to take your bag from your shoulders to set it next his belongings, but it has you instinctively yanking it back.

“Sorry,” You mumble under your breath, a bit frazzled from trying to adapt to people who aren’t dead.

Daryl nods, giving a sympathetic look. He gestures to the empty space next to the bed for you to place your bag.

“For now, Rick says he wants an eye on you. An’ since I was the one insistin we bring you, M’left with the responsibility.” He says, a lighthearted smirk peeking through the light dusting of hair on his face. But it quickly dissipates when the gears in his brain start shifting.

“Unless, y’know, you’d feel more comfortable with a lady friend—“

“No, please. I’d like you to stay.”

Daryl pauses. He’s leaning against the open cell door, his hand curled into a fist. He still has his crossbow with him, seated on his back. He holds himself steady as if the crossbow weighed nothing to him. He seems a bit taken aback by your quick response.

You drop your bag, placing your knives and guns onto the table beside the bed, glancing at Daryl, and sliding them towards him.

“If I am being completely honest, I haven’t been around people for a few months.” You sit on the bed, glancing at the few shirts draped over the side of the bed. It’s his cell, you realize. “I’d like to stay with you for awhile, if you don’t mind.”

Daryl rubs the back of his neck. The way you said that made his heart skip a beat. He glances over your face, no longer covered by the cape. You were attractive and well spoken. Probably from a family that took good care of themselves— educated. Unlike him. He hadn’t had a clue why you felt comfortable with him. If he was in your shoes, he’d prolly be sceptical of himself, bringing a girl alone in his cell.

“M’fine with that. Rick said I hadda ask you a few questions anyways.” He says. He’s overly aware by the new scent of you mingling in his room. He becomes too conscious about the way he smells. Dirty. Like an animal. You probably think he looks like one too.

“I understand. I assume your leader wants my weapons. I don’t have much.” You shrug, and unclasp your cape. Daryl’s gaze flickers to your arm, the bleeding has slowed, but it needed medical attention. Earlier, you had insisted to rest before heading over to get it looked at.

“Alright then. What’s ya’ name? What’s ya’ life story?” He asks, deciding to ignore your wound for now.

You’re quiet for a moment, collecting your thoughts.

“Reader. I was raised a lone child. Parents worked in the E.R, so when shit hit the fan, they were contaminated quickly. I was 21 when it happened—never was taught how to use a gun or weapons, so I got lucky and survived by finding a group.” You stop, hesitating your eyes flickering up at his face then back to your hands.

“They were all young though, made reckless decisions. Didn’t last long. Soon it went from a dozen people, to just me.” You finish, purposely vague.

Daryl nods. You talk as if you’re weak, but to be surviving this long in an apocalypse took more than just a strong group.

“That’s pretty shitty.” Daryl says,

“Yeah, suppose so. Haven’t really been able to survive without relying on others.” You half laugh half scoff.

“You can’t survive without relying on others.” Daryl points out.

You nod. “Sort of just rode along. Grabbed onto anyone I could. Until I met a group that took advantage of my uselessness.” You don’t elaborate on that, but Daryl thinks he has an idea of what that means.

Daryl doesn’t know how to comfort you, so he just mumbles a ‘sorry to hear that’ beneath his breath.

When you don’t say anymore, he decides it’s his turn to speak.

“I think you’ll fit fine in this place. I’m Daryl, the guy you met earlier is Rick. He’s the leader of the group. Had us survive this long so I reckon you’ll like him.” He says.

You smile at his attempt of hospitality. You could tell he wasn’t one to talk much, so it relaxed you knowing his intentions were genuine.

“Thank you, Daryl. You’re a kind man.”

Daryl has many words to describe him. But kind wasn’t on the list. At least, not that he knew of. It shocked him. More so than he would like to believe.

He swallows, replying with a short nod. He ignores your thanks and leaves the cell with a warning that Rick will come along to collect your weapons later tonight.

—

When he visits the cell at midnight to do his night watch over you, he could barely recognize the woman that had once been dressed in complete black.

You cleaned up yourself during the time he was gone. Rick must’ve brought over Carol to fix up your arm since it no longer bleeds freely. You have your hair out of your face, the dirt on your skin has been washed off, and the thick cloak you wore no longer droops over your frame. Instead, his shirt is on you, paired with slacks Carol must’ve given you.

In most cases, he would be pissed. Having someone use his stuff without permission, but instead, his thoughts were directed whether or not it smelled.

You feel a presence loom over you, so you look up from the book you read, and spot Daryl staring at you through the bars.

“Hey, I was wondering when you would come back.” You say, your eyes smiling the moment you land your gaze on him.

Daryl sputters for a moment, recollecting his thoughts.

“Yeah, m’sorry. Had to help Rick take out few of the walkers outside the prison.” He says. He must’ve been staring at his shirt you wear, because you look down at your sleeve, then back up at him.

“Carol said I could borrow one of your shirts since there isn’t any spares that fit me. Sorry if I crossed the line—“

“Nah, nah. It’s fine. Yer’ my responsibility anyways.” He says. He opens the cell door and steps inside.

You snort at his response. You watch him cross the room and shimmy off his jacket, hanging it over the railing of the top bunk.

Once he’s done, and his gaze is back to you, a silence thrums between the two of you.

The shirt you wore looked breathtaking on you. He didn’t mean to make the room awkward, he really didn’t. But, it had been too long since he’s seen a woman dressed in his clothes. His intention was never meant to pick you up because you were pretty— he just couldn’t stand the thought of someone as lost as you alone during these times.

He wasn’t a kind person, he tells himself. He has killed many. Hurt dozens. If only you knew the kind of person he saw himself as— the type of person he really is. He didn’t want you thinking he was some hero just because he decided to bring you into the prison.

“What’s bothering you?”

He blinks.

“What?”

“You’re thinking about something that’s bothering you. What is it?”

He’s at a loss of words. He makes no move to step away from you, even though he knows he should. You are probably anxious to have a man loom over you like this on his own bed.

“Nothin’. Just, hadn’t seen a new face for awhile is all. Wanted to take a good look atcha’” He sniffs, looking away.

The last thing he would have expect was your touch. He wasn’t prepared— he jumps at the contact. Your hand is resting on his cheek, cradling him carefully like he would jump away if you touched him too hard. Your thumb smooths over the planes of his cheeks, and feeling the roughness of his beard underneath your palm.

You look at him with stern eyes, knowing he isn’t telling the full truth. Touch always reveals a bit of truth in the eyes, you’ve learnt.

“Will you stay?” You ask.

He looks at you dumbly.

“What?” He says, frowning.

“Will you stay in here tonight?” You explain, lifting your hand away from his face. He’s surprised to miss the warmth of your palm on his cheek.

“Where else would I be? I ain’t sleepin’ out on a chair outside the cell for some woman.” He scoffs, half-jokingly. “You got nough’ luxury sleepin’ in my bed.”

“I’m glad,” You chuckle.

“Why? Plannin’ on killing me in my sleep? Tough luck, girl. Not that easy to kill.”

“Who knows?” You hum, pouting your lips.

He flicks your forehead. “Stupid girl. If you were goin’ to kill me, you would’ve taken the safety off your gun when I first found ya’.”

You blush at that.

“Was it really?”

“Damn right it was. Had me questioning your wits and whether or not you’d be too stupid for yer’ own good and put us all in danger.”

You frown, which he chuckles at— flicking your forehead for the second time.

“But here you are sleeping in the same cell.” You shoot back, rubbing away the sting from your forehead.

“Yeah well, I’m confident enough that I can take ya’.” He drops his crossbow, shoving it to the corner of the cell room along with his boots.

“Consider yerself lucky getting the better half of the bunk.” He adds as he pulls himself up onto the top bunk, the metal rods that support it creak and groan as he settles up there.

“Is that right?” You roll your eyes, and dip under the blankets, pulling them up to your chin. They smell like him— like what you imagine the forest smells like without the smell of the dead.

“Mhm.” Is all he replies with.

A comfortable silence follows for a few minutes. You start to wonder if he had fallen asleep, but you decide nobody could doze off in such a short span of time.

“What did you work as before all of this happened?” You ask, half expecting there to be no answer.

Daryl groans, and you hear the bed creak as he shuffles around.

“A drifter.”

“How about your family?”

“How bout’ you stop asking shitty questions and go to sleep, dammit.” He scoffs.

“You did say I was your responsibility. At least give me an idea of what kind of person you are.” You scoff back.

“Yer’ typical asshole redneck. Now shut up.”

You fall silent for a few seconds. Daryl finally thinks that you may be falling asleep.

“Least’ wish me a goodnight…” You huff.

“For fucks’ sake woman! Goodnight.” He bangs the side of the metal rod stabilizing the bed. Despite his tone, he can’t help but smile.

—

A couple of days pass by fairly quickly. You’re introduced to the people inside the prison. Daryl had seen your hesitance around them. He can understand that— it’s probably been a long time since you’ve been able to trust those around you. So, when you decided to stick by his side for most of the days, he never shooed you away. He felt good knowing he gave you some sort of security.

He began bringing you on hunting sprees for food when he was confident enough that there weren’t many walkers around. He taught you small things about tracking and different calls birds would make. Make you strip the squirrel of it’s guts, and hack the fur off the skin.

He liked your eagerness to learn. Despite the faces you’d make and the questionable looks you gave him when he told you it was your turn to gut their catch, he enjoyed your company unlike any other person he’s been around.

It hadn’t been until a week passed, and a routine quickly fell in place that he began questioning your relationship with him. Each night you’d take night watch with him for a few hours until you both returned to your cell to sleep. There would be a bicker between the two of you, (mainly of Daryl to tell you to “shut the fuck up and stop asking shitty questions”) until one of you passed out.

He wasn’t one for emotions or relationships. So when he caught himself with lingering eyes on you, or a thumping heart whenever you smiled at him, it bothered him. It bothered him a lot. You were young. Hell of a lot younger than he was, and he hated himself just a tiny bit more each time he imagines your touch on him like you did the night he first brought you into his cell.

Today was no different.

You have stuck by him for most of the day. Currently, he is taking the time to teach you basic protocols with a knife and gun. His rough hands on top of yours, manipulating your fingers around the gun’s hilt to hold it properly.

God has it been too long since he’s ever been so close to a woman. He never was quite popular with the women in his hometown, never fooled around much. So maybe that’s why his heart thunders beneath his chest right now when he catches a whiff of your scent.

When you look up at him with that excited gleam when you do something right on your own— like loading a gun properly. It makes his heart bloom. It angers him. It was so out of character for him to have this kind of affection towards someone.

He learnt that you’re naturally a cautious person. You make calculated decisions. You project your feelings a bit too much on others. You mentioned earlier on a hunting spree that you first believed the walkers felt lost and had come to you for help. You soon realized how ridiculous that sounded, but it had only made him realize how kind of a person you are.

Unlike he was.

He was afraid. Maybe a bit regretful even. He knows that he will mess this up one way or another. You were young, naive, pretty. Why did he even feel the need to teach you how to hold a gun, or use a knife? That wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t a kind person. He didn’t do things out of the kindness of his heart.

Maybe he did have ambiguous intentions— he starts to question himself.

“What’s bothering you?” You say, tapping his hand. He had gotten distracted, nearly forgot he was supposed to be teaching you how to shoot a gun.

He frowns at you, you’re looking up at him with those perceptive eyes of yours. How did you always know when he was troubled?

“What’s it to ya’, girl?” Daryl scoffs, and backs away from you. He’s all too aware of the cold air hitting his palms that had once been warmed by your hands.

You lower your gun and furrow your brows. He was acting strange. Or maybe you were just thinking too much into things like you always seem to do.

“You go quiet when you’re thinking about something that troubles you.” You explain, walking up to him to close the distance he had put between the two of you.

“M’ always quiet.” He shrugs. “Stop carin’ so much.” He takes another step back, and picks up the crossbow he left on the ground, swinging it over his shoulder.

You don’t make a move to close the distance between the two of you again.

“M’goin on a scouting trip with Rick to get more supplies.” He decides suddenly.

You’re caught off guard for a moment. He never was one to simply ditch a practice.

“I could come, I know these parts quite well—“

“No.” Daryl says a bit too harshly than he would’ve liked.

You huff.

“If you’re worried about me getting hurt, I’ve taken care of myself long before you came along, so—“

“We ain’t bringin’ a woman who’d just get in our way.” He spits. “Like you said, you jus’ rely on others. You’d get us killed.” He pauses, mumbling the last part of his sentence. “Prolly how the first group you’d been in died.”

He watches the shock contort the smile you had worn just seconds ago. He doesn’t know why he said that, or why he feels so angry all of a sudden. He ignores the hurt that struck his chest the moment he saw your smile fade.

You don’t say anything. You look hurt and confused. He knew it. He knew he’d fuck up. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe this would stop him from thinking about what he desired deep down, to stop his true intentions from forming.

He doesn’t wait for your reaction. He just scoffs, and walks away. Leaving you alone in the middle of the prison field.

—

A few days pass. You and Daryl haven’t spoken. You would be lying if what he said didn’t hurt, but in a way, he was right. But still, you would’ve been happy to pretend it never even happened.

That night after the argument you had with Daryl, he never showed up to night watch, or his cell. You were scared that something may have happened on his trip, but the next morning you see him roasting squirrels on the fire. When he heard your footsteps, he had looked up, but never acknowledged you.

“You went hunting without me?” You pout, trying to break the awkwardness between you.

He only grunts in response, which wasn’t unusual from Daryl. He was a quiet man, but he was usually a lot more responsive around you.

“We could probably made a nice stew with these big fella’s. Carol was telling me about the tomatoes she grew.” You hum, remembering the adoring smile on her face when she told you. She was the only other person you talked to regularly other than Daryl.

You reach to grab a stick that the squirrel is pierced on to turn it, but a hand slaps you away.

“Ain’t for you, get yer’ own grub.” Daryl spits. He still doesn’t look you in the eye.

You’re shocked. You hold you hand close to your chest. It stung from the slap, but it was nothing compared to how your heart clenched. You blink a couple of times in disbelief.

“What?” You say stupidly.

“I said get yer’ own damn food. I ain’t yer’ provider. Maybe try and do somethin’ on your own for a change. You follow me like some dumb lost puppy and I’m sick of it.” He yells.

He makes the mistake of looking up at you.

You’re looking down at your hand, smoothing your thumb over the place he slapped you— comforting the sting. He sees the start of tears collect at your waterline, but you make an effort not to let them spill over.

You swallow thickly, nodding with a tight lipped smile while still looking at your hand.

He knows he should apologize. His heart aches seeing your lost look on your face. This isn’t what he wanted, he didn’t want to hurt you. He curses at himself in his head, his hands cramping up from clenching too hard.

He doesn’t know where to start. How to explain himself— explain how he’s feeling. So he says nothing, and looks down at his feet.

You clear your throat and stand up. He watches you take the knife he had left next to his crossbow, but he continues to stay silent. He’s silent when you walk off. Doesn’t make a move to catch up with you and tell you he’s sorry. He just continues to watch you walk towards the prison with the knife in hand until you disappear inside.

Once you’re gone, only then does he bury his face in his hands, wishing that he could take what he said all back.

—

Daryl walks into the prison, searching for your cloak to bring to you for the night watch. It was cold out, and he knew how reluctant you were to ever wear more than your long sleeve, saying some shit about how “it builds your immune system.”

He plans to apologize to you. Try his best to explain his feelings. Maybe you could just look into his eyes like you always do, and understand what is bothering him. Tell him what is bothering him, because, frankly, he doesn’t know himself.

He enters the empty cell, looking into your bag for your cloak. He does his best not to invade your privacy, but when he doesn’t find it, he empties the bag entirely.

Your personal gun and cloak is gone, which was unusual. A thread of fear begins to knit its way in his chest.

He stomps out of the cell, and into the main room of the prison where he spots Carol.

“Did you see Reader anywhere?” Daryl asks, more desperately than he would’ve liked.

Carol gives him an odd look and shakes her head.

“I assumed she was with you. Last time I saw her she came in here to grab her gun around this morning, thought you two were going on one of your hunting sprees.”

His heart drops. There was no way you took him seriously. You were a smart girl, you were cautious, made careful decisions— you wouldn’t do something as reckless as leave the prison without him.

His breathing becomes uneven— he’s panicking, he realizes.

He doesn’t say anything else, he just sprints out of the prison without a second thought.

He passes by Rick who shouts at him, but he can’t make out what he’s saying. He doesn’t try to. All his thoughts are revolving around whether or not you’re okay.

He runs the direction of the forest where he usually hunts, where he has taken you to for nearly two weeks now. Taught you. Trained you. And adored your attention and company the entire time he did it.

You would’ve gone there, that’s where you’re most familiar with.

And he’s right.

He slows down, a few metres from the entrance of the forest. A figure emerges from the forest, walking towards him, a hood covering the face. But he knows, he knows it’s you and not some walker.

A walker wouldn’t be holding three squirrels by the tail. His girl wouldn’t have left that forest without a meal in her hands.

He sees your eyes peek from under your hood, an exhausted smile on your face. You hold up the squirrels above your head for him to see. Your eyes shine the same way they do when you’re looking for that praise he gives you when you do well.

His heart hurts seeing your smile. Like you had to prove something to him, that you weren’t weak. That you were nothing like he said you were.

“You fuckin’ shitty woman.” He says with no venom in his tone. He jogs up to you and embraces you tightly, thankful for the darkness to hide the tears of relief collecting in his eyes.

You cry out when he does, startling him and backing away. You're reaching for your arm, the one you injured when he had first met you.

“I think I tore the stitches.” You grunt, stumbling a bit. Daryl holds you tight and stabilizes your footing. Your hood has fallen back, and only then can he see the blood smeared across your face.

“Shit, what were you thinkin’ He says, wiping the blood off your face with his thumb.

You shake your head, trying to dismiss his worry.

“Gotta get back before the walkers smell it, right? That’s what you said.” You chuckle.

He nods, remembering when he said that those weeks ago. He crouches down and picks you up effortlessly. You gasp at his strength but he quickly ruins the way you romanticize it by commenting on something stupid.

“Fuck yer heavy, girl.”

You don’t know what you were expecting, really.

He carries you back to the prison, ignoring the concerned glances of Rick and Carol. You wave them off with a smile, but you don’t think that’s what drove them away, because when you look up at Daryl’s face, he’s glaring at the both of them— silently saying “leave us alone.”

He enters his cell, shutting the curtain to give some sense of privacy, and gently rests you on the old, single chair in front of the equally as old desk. He kneels on one leg, taking the squirrels from your hand, and stripping you of your cloak.

He doesn’t think before he begins to unbutton your shirt, all his thoughts are directed to whether or not your hurt underneath your sleeve. But he stops when he feels you tense under his fingers.

Shit, what was he thinking?

“M’sorry, uh, I should prolly fetch Carol—“ He stammers over himself.

He tries to retract his hand, but you catch it and place it back onto your chest, just above your breasts. You’re looking down at him, your chest heaving. You look so tired. There’s blood staining your teeth, dirt above your brow. But, he would be lying to himself if he said that you didn’t look sexy looking down at him like that.

“I don’t want Carol.” You say, furrowing your brows at him.

He feels dirty. He shouldn’t be allowed to see you, to touch you so intimately.

“Daryl.” You say, sensing his hesitance. He looks up, realizing that he was staring at his hands instead of you.

“For fucks sake just take off my bloody shirt.”

His eyes flicker to your lips spreading to accommodate your smile. Your beautiful smile despite being sullied with blood. He swallows when he watches your tongue dart to your lips, licking the blood that had spilled from your torn lip.

He nods, pushing away the fear and returning his work on your shirt. He slips each button out of their hole and slides it off gently by your shoulders, careful not to disturb any other injuries you may have gotten.

He tries his best not to look at your black laced bra. Tries not to flicker his eyes down to your breasts protruding from them, avoiding the beauty marks scattered amongst your skin. Instead, he forces himself to look at your wound.

It wasn’t bleeding. He releases a deep breath, relieved that the stitches hadn’t been broken after so many days of healing. You must’ve hit it though, since there’s a bruise that begins forming under his touch.

“What did yer do? Stupid girl.” He says, gnawing on his lip. He doesn’t look at you in the eye, too ashamed of his stupid mistake. He peels your sleeve down more, and spots a few scrapes down your forearm. He wipes away the blood seeping out from them— it’s not a lot, but it’s hard for him to look at knowing it’s because of him.

He feels defeated. Tired. You must have seen it on his face because you comb your fingers through his hair, which startles him. You watch how his shoulders jump at the contact, but he eventually compels himself to relax.

“Did what you told me to do. I went into the forest too far, and got lost tracking a couple of squirrels. I fell when a walker popped out at me from nowhere, but I’m fine. Your tracking skills helped me get back— even if it took me this long.” You say.

Daryl shuts his eyes closed listening to you. He starts sinking down onto the floor, and he puts his head in your lap, hugging your hips with his arms. He breathes in your scent, masked by dirt and blood, but even then, it’s still so distinctively you.

He squeezes you tight, making sure he’s not dreaming. That you’re with him, that he’s in your lap. That your touch is real.

“M’ so sorry. M’ a fuckin’ idiot. I thought that— thought that if I were to’be an ass and keep away from yer, that I wouldn’t have these terrible thoughts.”

You’re quiet, silently playing with his hair. Twisting it in your fingers, and causing chills to slither down his neck. He sighs at your touch. He never knew how good it felt to be touched so simply.

“What were your thoughts?” You whisper. One hand slides down the back of his neck, feeling where his neck meets his back muscles. Subconsciously, his grip tightens around your hips, silently begging you not to pull away.

“I- I don’t, can’t—“ He curses at himself. He’s stuttering like some pussy, overwhelmed by all of you. Your touch. Your smell. Your voice. When did he become so soft? He wishes that you could read his mind, tell him what he’s feeling, why he’s feeling this way towards you.

“M’not good at, y’know, feelin’s n shit.” He decides, hoping that you can understand.

And you do. Of course you do.

“I’m listening, take your time.” You say. Your hand that was on his back trails up to his cheek. He’s resting one side of his head on your lap, so you see how his eyelashes flutter at the soft touch. He’s unaware that you can see his lips part in a sigh.

“I neva’ wanted to make yer think I took you into the prison jus’ cuz’ you were alone and, y’know, a young pretty lady. I never had other intentions other than helpin’ someone.” He begins, often tripping over himself to find the right words. But you don’t interrupt him, you just continue to comfort him with your soft touches.

“But m’not a kind person like you. I neva’ did things out of the kindness of m’heart. So, I began wonderin’ if I actually did have secret intentions, and it fucked m’up an I got angry at m’self.” He breathes in a shaky breath and swallows down his nerves. “I couldn’t stop thinkin’ bout’ your touches, and how fuckin pretty you are. An’ I jus felt like a pervert. So I took m’ anger out on you, thinkin’ if I did, it’d stop all them stupid thoughts.”

You hum, long and deep. He can feel it vibrate his cheek, and he feels comfort knowing that you’re listening and not pushing him away in disgust.

“What if I said I have the same sort of thoughts about you?” You say.

You feel his shoulders tense and his fingers dig into your hips without knowing. He’s completely taken aback by what you said.

“Don’t say stupid shit. Yer’ jus a kid.” He scoffs, trying not to let your words get him too hopeful.

“I’m 22, Daryl. I may be half your age, but I’m still an adult.” You say as you smooth his hair away from his face.

He grimaces.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do that.”

You slither your hand under his shirt, tracing circles over his shoulder blades.

“I don’t understand what you mean, Daryl.” You whisper his name in breathier tone which has him visibly gritting his teeth.

“Yer way younger than me…” He argues weakly, shuddering when you dance your fingertips from the middle of his shoulders, all the way up his neck. He can feel himself begin to strain against his jeans.

“Yet I’m still a consenting adult, aren’t I? Don’t patronize me with your shit.” You huff.

“With some redneck like me?” He scoffs in disbelief.

“Mmm.” You agree which makes him chuckle lowly.

“Besides…” You say, urging him to lift his head from your lap. He does, and he looks at you. He has a light dusting of blush on his cheeks which was rare to see. It makes your heart flutter.

You lift your legs over Daryl’s broad shoulders. One of your hands grip onto his hair, pulling him closer to you.

He’s speechless. Your thighs are soft and warm against his cheeks, and your ankles rest where your hands hand been— right between his shoulder blades. A warm sensation builds in his abdomen. He shuffles, feeling the tightness in his jeans continue to grow.

“You have some apologizing to do don’t you?”

His mouth goes dry. You couldn’t be serious, could you? With him? His eyes dart from your face, to your exposed chest, then between your spread legs. With hesitance, he bring his hand on top of your thigh that rests on his shoulder. He looks back up to you for guidance.

“What.. whatd’ya mean?” He licks his lips, causing you to smirk. He knew what you meant, he was just too afraid of being wrong.

“Figure it out.” You urge his head forward and squeeze your thighs around his head once.

He looks at you a second longer. Searching your eyes for anything saying that this isn’t what you actually wanted. But all he finds is an almost desperate look of hunger. He feels your fingers tighten around his hair impatiently, pushing him closer to your clothed cunt.

He swallows down his nerves, and runs his hands down your thighs until he reaches the hem of your pants. He takes a nervous glance up to see your reaction, and he’s pleased to see a blush paint your cheeks.

Hooking his thumbs on each side of your pants, he pulls them down slowly, revealing your underwear. He takes note of a damp spot on the fabric, feeling a bit more confident seeing your arousal seep through.

With a new boost of confidence, Daryl pulls your pants down to your knee, revealing your thighs and begins leaving gentle kisses between then. You feel the scratch of his facial hair and it makes you release a shuddering breath.

“Good.. that’s good.” You praise quietly, rewarding him by pushing his hair away from his face. You don’t know it, but Daryl’s heart flutters at your praise, and he continues kissing further until he reaches your clothed cunt.

He spreads your legs a bit more, allowing himself access to your core. He breathes in your scent, and it nearly makes him dizzy with arousal. It’s been too long.

With a final glance to your flushed face, he begins peeling away your panties.

With two fingers, he spreads your folds open, presenting all of yourself to him. You’re glistening and soaked to the touch. He mutters a ‘fuck’ under his breath before diving in.

You throw your head back, your hand quickly shooting up to your mouth to smother your moan. You find purchase in his hair to stabilize yourself and hands help keep your hips from canting up into his mouth.

Your lower stomach is showered in a warm, bubbling sensation. Just the first lick he gives to your clit has your legs trembling and your breath stuttering. His facial hair is rough and drags between your thighs, adding a tingling sensation to the heat building inside you.

His tongue begins at your entrance, and licks all the way up to your clit, moaning at the taste. He craves more of you, and starts lapping at your clit, swirling his tongue around the bud before sucking it in entirely. The sensation has your back arching off the chair, forcing Daryl to hold you down as he continues eating you out.

“Oh! It’s so good. Feels so good.” You crumble under his touch, crying out from behind your hand.

Daryl moans again into your clit, sending vibrations up your body that make your legs close onto his head, squeezing him with the meat of your thighs.

Daryl takes your legs into his hands, not once leaving your cunt, and he stands, crouching over you. He holds your ankle of one leg down, and keeps another on his shoulder. You’re bent almost in half in the new position he manhandled you in, but the new position gives him a clear view of your entrance.

Letting go of your ankle, he lets your leg drop, his one hand still keeping your leg still on his shoulder. He rubs a finger around your entrance, listening to your breath hitch and shudder. He slips it in with ease, curling it up and rubbing in long strokes against your g-spot.

“Daryl…” You drop the hand that covered your mouth and put both hands on his forearm, unsure whether you were trying to pull it away or bring him closer.

Spurred on by the sound of his name falling from your lips, he slipped in a second finger. Obscene squelching sounds carried through the room each time his fingers pounded in and out of you.

You were so close, but you couldn’t let it end here.

You push his head away from your cunt. His face is dripping with your juices, his tongue laps up the remainder of it on his lips and he tries to dip back down between your legs, eager to taste more of you, but you stop him.

“Whas’ the matter?” He says, his voice raspy and deep. His expression flickered from lust-filled to concerned in a matter of seconds. “Did I—“

“I was close.” You manage to say despite trying to catch your breath.

He relaxes knowing it wasn’t anything that he did. He scoffs and tries again to delve back into the heat of your thighs but you stop him for the second time.

“C’mon, yer’ close, weren’t ya’?” He says, nipping at your inner thigh which makes you jump.

He looked so enticing. His cheeks flushed, eyes narrowed and hungry, his tongue darting out to taste the remainder of you on his lips. It was almost too much.

“I… I wanna do the same to you.” You say, now your turn to be shy.

You watch how he sucks in a breath and you feel the way his hand squeezes your thigh.

“You… you ain’t gotta.” He says as he drops your leg from his shoulder.

“I want to, please.” You insist. You reach around your back and unclasp your bra, letting it fall and reveal your breasts to him.

His eyes instantly dart down to your freed breasts.

He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a nod and backs away to sit on the bed with his legs widespread.

It’s your turn to kneel beneath him between his legs. You lift the hem of his shirt up, kissing the warm skin of his navel. He has a dark happy trail leading down his groin. You breathe in his musky scent there, and look up at him with wide eyes.

He takes the hem of his shirt and takes it off for you to have better access. His hands then return to the edge of the bed, fiddling with the covers nervously as his eyes rake over your body.

You do the same to his.

You knew he was strong. You always had an amazing view of his biceps whenever he would chop wood for the fire, or lift his crossbow to shoot a walker. But up close, seeing his upper body completely bare made you realize how strong he really was.

Daryl became a bit antsy, unsure where to look. Your stare made him feel strange. He wasn’t used to being watched so intensely.

“Stop starin’ girl.” He flicks your forehead, making you jump back.

You pout up at him, rubbing the spot he flicked to soothe the sting. You mumble a “prick” under your breath which makes him rumble a deep chuckle. It has you squeezing your thighs together in anticipation.

You undo his jeans and yank his underwear down. His cock springs free and hits your cheek. The visual of his hard cock on your face has his cock pulsating on your cheek.

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He can’t take his eyes off you. You look stunning under him like this, kneeling before him and worshiping his cock.

You take him into one hand and you bring the other down to his balls, rolling them in your palm as you lower your head and take the head of his uncut cock into your mouth. You’re fascinated by the way his jaw drops open, and how the muscles in his abdomen flex and flutter from pleasure.

You dip your tongue under his foreskin, massaging every part of him you can reach with your tongue. You then pull back and suckle the tip, holding eye contact with him as you do. The saltiness of his precum coats your tongue, and it has you humming, sending vibrations down the shaft of his cock.

“Shit,” Daryl moans, stooping over your head. He can’t seem to restrain himself. His hand drops down to your chest, fondling and massaging your breasts. His other hand rests at the back of your head, not daring to push you past your limits. You’re grateful for that and reward his actions by pushing him deeper into your mouth.

The muskiness of his sex has you seeing stars. It was all so arousing. His hands on you, his rough moans and heavy breathing, his quiet praise whenever you would suck him deeper into your tight heat.

You drop one hand from his balls and run it up his side, feeling the firm muscle twitch under your touch. You caress his sides, then over top of his abdomen that ripple with strong muscle. You reach his chest, and you feel his heartbeat pound fast against his rib cage.

“Shit, darlin’ m’close.” He warns, and threads his fingers into your hair, yanking you off of his cock.

You suck in a breath and lick off the mix of precum and saliva on your lips. You swallow, wiping your face on your shoulder and looking up at him expectantly.

“Dammit girl’ don’ look at me like that.” He hisses, helping you wipe off a smudge of spit on your cheek.

You smile up at him and crawl into his lap. You slither a hand around his shoulders and up to his neck, grabbing at the long strands of hair. Your breaths hover over each other’s lips, sharing the air between you.

Daryl looks conflicted. His eyes dart from your lips, then back to your gaze. He wants to kiss you, but he feels that may be too intimate.

“Do you want to kiss me, Daryl?” You ask, trailing a finger over his brow, noticing a small scar on his forehead. You trace it with your finger adoringly.

He’s too afraid to speak, knowing that his voice will most likely crack, or his pounding heart will make his words stutter. So he nods shyly instead.

You smile.

“Go ahead then.”

With hesitance, he cups your cheek in his big, calloused hand. You watches how you lean into it encouragingly.

He leans in and takes what he wants. He kisses you shyly at first, but then turns greedy once you kiss back. He slides an arm around your waist, pushing you impossibly closer to his body.

He tastes the faint remainder of your blood on your lips, a reminder of what hedid to you. It makes him angry, but he pushes down the feeling by kissing your harder, shoving his tongue into your mouth.

You moan into his mouth which he swallows. Without breaking the kiss, he lays you down onto his bed— the one you’ve stolen from him, and hovers above your body, caging you with his frame.

Your nails scrap down his back which earns a low growl from the back of his throat. He breaks the kiss to take in your naked body beneath him.

He can’t believe that you’re real. That you’re beneath him, squirming and impatient for him. Body flushed and shining with a thin slayer of perspiration. Soft moans escaping from your swollen lips, and a desperate look in your eye.

And it’s all for him.

“Daryl..” You moan his name, running your fingers through his hair.

“Mm?” He replies, returning his attention back to your face.

“I want you inside me.”

He believed that his cock couldn’t get harder, but he was wrong. He could’ve came from those words alone.

“Ya?” He says a bit hesitant. He needed to make sure this was what you wanted.

“Please Daryl!” You plead, wrapping your legs around his hips and pushing him closer to your core.

He nods, pleased with how desperate you are for his cock. He places a forearm beside your head, resting his weight. He takes the other hand and lines himself up to your entrance.

“Ready, darlin?” He asks, kissing your temple. You never imagined Daryl to be an intimate person, but you adored it. The innocent kiss had your stomach fluttering.

“Please,” You moan, canting your hips forward to try and slip his cock inside. Daryl chuckles and holds your hips in place with one hand, forcing you to be still.

Slowly, he sinks inside you. His cock being enveloped by your soft warm walls, hugging him tight like a vice. You both moan in sync, shuddering as he continues to fill you up until his balls rest at your bottom.

“Shit, darlin. You feel s’good.” He says with his face between the crook of your neck, the vibration of his deep voice tickling your skin. He lets you adjust to his girth, patiently running gentle circles along your sides.

He feels you flutter around his cock adjusting to him. He runs a hand from your side, up to your face, cradling your cheek and coaxing you to look at him.

“Does it hurt?” He asks. He wasn’t certain whether you were a virgin or if it had been a long time since you’ve had sex. He wants to make sure you feel as good as he does.

“Just a lil, just give me a sec.” You reply, pecking him on the lips. He nods and kisses you, distracting you from the pain by licking into your mouth. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers and rolls it, making you squirm and gasp under him.

You both kiss until you run out of breath, and when you break apart you nod, allowing him to move.

He hugs you into his broad chest, burying his face into the top of you head and breathing in your scent as he pulls his hips back, and sheathes himself back inside you slowly, helping you get accustomed to him.

“Faster,” You moan, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You can feel his back muscles ripple under your fingertips and the raised skin from old scars.

“Greedy girl,” He whispers in your ear, smirking. But he obeys your command and snaps his hips faster into your pussy.

You bury your face into Daryl’s shoulder, muffling your moans and sobs of pleasure. He angles his hips just right, pounding that spot deep inside you that makes you see stars. Your nails drag down his back, earning a loud growl in your ear. He goes faster, spurred on by the sharp pain.

Your pussy made obscene wet noises with each snap of his hips. He felt your wetness coat his cock and drench his balls. He looked down at where you both were connected, and the visual of his cock disappearing into your pussy made him curse.

He switched the rhythm but kept the same speed. With each thrust inside your cunt, he would grind his groin on your clit.

You released a particular loud cry into his shoulder as he did this. His pubic hair accompanied by the powerful grind on your cunt had you reaching your climax quick. It was euphoric the way he played your body.

“That’s it girl.” Daryl praises, slapping the side of your thigh just to watch the fat jiggle. He felt your walls tighten at the action, and it had him smiling deviously into your neck.

“Yer’ just a slut fer my cock, aren’t ya? Humping me like some horny bitch in heat.” He says with a sadistic chuckle. You were shocked by his dirty words, but it had you melting in his arms.

“Yes! Yes Daryl!” You reply. The euphoric feeling with each slam of his cock has your mind shut off completely. You went limp, accepting him to use your body in anyway he wanted.

“Dumb slut, yer’ just drunk on my cock.” He says, slapping your thigh for a second time. “With your fucked out brains you’d do anythin’ wouldn’t ya, slut?”

You moan loud into his shoulder, rapidly nearing your orgasm. You can feel the tightness in your stomach about to snap.

“Yes! Anything! Anything for you!” You chant.

Daryl’s hips begin to stutter and he lets out a shaky moan.

“Then come on ma’ cock.”

That’s all it took. Your mouth opens in a silent scream as your body goes taut. A rush of pure euphoria clouds your mind. Daryl watches your face contort and feels your walls go impossibly tighter around his cock.

He continues thrusting, holding off his orgasm to ride out yours. He waits until your body goes limp in his arms before letting go.

With a drawn out groan, he indulges in your warm heat before pulling out and spilling his hot seed onto your stomach. His balls clench, and long stripes of white coat your abdomen and breasts. He strokes himself until his body shakes, and his orgasm fades into a dull pleasurable pulse.

He takes a look at your fucked out expression and gives you a lazy smirk. He lays beside you, hugging you into his chest— not minding his seed smearing on his stomach.

You’re both quiet for a few moments, listening to each other’s heartbeats and satisfied breaths.

“Holy fuck that was hot.” You’re first to break the silence.

Daryl snorts and smacks your ass, loving the way it jiggles from impact.

“Tell me bout’ it.” He says.

You look up at him, forcing him to open his tired eyes.

Despite all that you’ve done together, his heart seems to flutter most at the way you smile up at him. He’s about to ask you what you’re looking at him for, but before he can, your lips are already on his, kissing him short and sweet.

“You’re forgiven.” You say with a devilish smile.

He scoffs. “Yer’ a lil’ shit.” He says, and pushes your face into his chest. He rests his chin on your head and closes his eyes, ready to sleep.

Your arms wrap around him and you breathe in his smell noisily while tangling your legs around his torso.

“Jeez, woman. Go to sleep.” He huffs, a smile tugging on his lips.

“Mmmhmm.” You reply, snuggling into his chest, nearing the edge of falling asleep. “Goodnight.”

He rolls his eyes but still, he kisses your head.

“G’night darlin.”

#fanfiction #the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon #smut #twd smut #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixion imagine #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you

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teyamsgrl · 2 years ago

Note

i’m having neteyam brain rot again after like a couple months help me please

angry sex with adult neteyam is making me squeal

ANON I LOVE YOUR MIND ASK AND YOU GET IT 👏🏻

also thanks for being my first request 🫶🏻

make me forget ✧ neteyam

❗️MDNI ❗️

°˖➴ warnings: fem omatikaya reader, agedup!neteyam, dom!neteyam, kinda jealous/possessive!neteyam, ofc angry sex, spanking, sir kink, some hair pulling/choking, dirty talkkkkkkk - yawne: beloved, sevin: pretty

after adding the last bead, you tie off your braid and stand up to head out. tonight there was a special celebration with the entire clan, and you were super excited. you were extremely social and enjoyed gatherings. you were also the mate of neteyam sully, which you thought was the best thing about you. to sum it up, neteyam was your world. his mother had asked for his help earlier which is why you were headed to the celebration without your mate. even after all this time of knowing each other and being mates, your heart still fluttered knowing you would get to see him and kiss him in just minutes.

you arrive to the tree of souls and smile seeing all of your fellow omaticaya people dancing and talking. you scan the crowd, eyes landing on neteyam standing with kiri and lo’ak. you make your way over, slipping through the crowd of people. "yawne" he smiles, arms wrapping around your waist as he hugged you in tightly. you threw your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. “hi teyam”. you look over to kiri and lo’ak fake gagging, causing you to giggle and pull away from the hug. "you skxawngs" neteyam says and shakes his head before he pecks your lips. "did you have a good day?" you nod and smile, pecking his lips again. "do you want a drink?" you ask, gesturing to the group of women pouring drinks for everyone and handing them out. "sure, thanks sevin" you smile and head over to the women, asking for two drinks.

"hey there" you turn to spot ät’uk, an omaticaya man who is known for his massive crush on you. neteyam absolutely despised him and honestly you were shocked he has not gotten the hint yet. you step back a bit to add more space between you two, "hey ät’uk". you grab the drinks and thank the women, going to walk back to neteyam before you feel a hand on your shoulder. "y/n, you look really pretty tonight" you have to hold back an eye roll, “thanks, but i have a boyfriend” you smile out of spite and go to turn again. “sure, but you’ve never even given me a chance" ; this time the eye roll happens. "yeah and i’m not going to. i am happy with neteyam and i have no interest in giving you a chance. you’re a nice guy but-" you are cut off by the feeling of a familiar hand on your hip. neteyam. "ät’uk.. are we going to have a problem here?" you lean into neteyam, thankful he has saved you from this uncomfortable and honestly repetitive conversation. "no, not at all" he takes a sip of his drink nervously. "good, but next time a woman tells you she has a boyfriend and isn’t into you, maybe leave her alone" he spits as his tail swishes rapidly, pulling you away. your heart is racing at neteyam’s words. it is not often you see him angry, but it was honestly kinda hot. oops.

you reach kiri and lo'ak and neteyam snatches the drinks from your hands, passing them to his siblings. "here, be safe" he nods at them before pulling you out of the crowd and in the direction of your shared tent. "what's going on?" you ask as he drags you along, his strides very long and fast. once you reach the tent he pulls you in, instantly pressing you against the wall. "neteyam what-" he cuts you off by kissing you deeply, tongue gracefully sliding into your mouth, you hum, dragging your hands down his toned chest and abs. his hands travel to your ass, death grip on the perfectly round cheeks. he moans softly as your hands glide to the waistband of his loincloth, tugging it gently to ask for permission. you were wrapped around his finger and submitted almost immediately, especially since you knew he was angry. he pulls away, hand moving to hold your neck. "no cock sucking tonight, sevin. i need your pussy and i need it fucking now".

he growls, hand moving down and yanking your top off, beads tumbling from it and bouncing on the floor. he licks his lips and pulls your loincloth off, gliding his middle finger through your wetness swiftly. "good. over the table, now" he gestures towards the table on the other side of your tent. "yes sir" you hum and move to the table, bending over and hoisting one leg up on the table, ass basically asking for a spank. neteyam saunters over to you, loincloth being dropped in the process. he hums, a hum you can tell means that he is satisfied by your obedience. his hand drags along your ass before coming down hard, causing you to whimper. "you are mine", he spanks you again. "that fucking skxawng will never have you. ever", and again. "you got it?" he spanks you once more, "yes sir.. i'm yours" you whine out. "mhm.. that's right" you feel his tip kissing your entrance, waiting patiently to push in. "i'm gonna fucking use you in a minute, you're gonna make me forget how fucking pissed off i am" he breathes, thrusting his cock fully into your begging pussy.

"o-oh" you gasp at the full feeling, hands moving to grab the edge of the table before your wrists are snatched up by neteyam's large hand. "uh-uh, you know better" he pulls your hands behind your back, holding them hostage there within his grasp. he moans as he starts to follow a pace, fucking you deeper than ever before. his tip grazes your cervix as you squeal, back arching at the jolt the touch sent through you. "fuck yes... you're my good girl, aren't you? tell me who you belong to. who is fucking you this good?" he continues pounding you like there's no tomorrow as he speaks, moans escaping his mouth. "you, sir. you own me.." you whimper, head raising from the table. "that's right... and i'm the only man who ever gets to take you like this" he brings his free hand to press your head down on the table, holding you down. you whine, lying on the table as your mate destroys your insides. you can barely think straight, you are so unbelievably turned on. he groans behind you, hand gripping your braids and yanking you up so your back is flush with his chest. you gasp, leaning into him as he never stops thrusting; he doesn't miss a beat. "fuck.." he moans into your ear, causing you to throw your head back onto his shoulder. "you're such a good girl..." he moans again, hand gripping your throat now. "sir! sir!" you whine, pussy tightening on his cock. "cum for me. do it. cum for me and show me who your fucking mate is" he tightens his grip on your throat slightly, your body beginning to shake as your orgasm rushes to it's peak. "fuck fuck fuck!" you scream, coating his cock in cum. he groans and picks up his pace, you still moaning in pure ecstasy despite cumming seconds ago. "you're gonna be so full baby, so fucking full of me" he does one last thrust before his cum spills into your pussy, his moans music to your ears. once he catches his breath, he lets go of your wrists and throat, turning you around and placing you to sit on the table.

"you good, sevin?" he kisses your forehead, brushing the braids out of your face. "of course, nete" you giggle and cup his face with your hands, admiring his features. "did i help you forget how mad you were?" he chuckles and nods, "definitely, thank you. i just couldn't take his shit anymore. and you looked unbelievable so i figured ravaging you was a good idea" he chuckles more and you giggle along with him. you run your thumb over his bottom lip, "you're extra hot when you're angry, makes me think i should get you angry more often honestly". he bites your thumb gently and smirks; "don't test me, baby"

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woovalin · 4 months ago

Text

i have since been informed that the screenshots of that conversation were fabricated. i apologize, it turns out that an english translator was used and the source was proven to be false. nonetheless, this changes nothing about the situation.

i hope we all have an understanding that this is not a kpop issue, but a women’s rights issue. as previously stated in my original post; men, no matter where they’re from, what family they come from, who their friends are, they are not immune to being misogynistic, vile human beings. the people closest to us could be hiding the worst secret imaginable. men, having mothers, sisters and daughters, does not stop them from committing heinous crimes against women. it doesn’t matter that they have a strong female presence around, they could still turn out to be anti-women and do it all wrong. it only takes another brainwashed woman hater to turn the rest into one of them.

i also would like to point out that this is not the time to start fan wars, because this is not about kpop or us fans, or who you stan or don’t stan. this isn’t a “gotcha” moment, for you to blame fans for supporting him when nobody knew. it’s not the time to promote your faves or post shit with, ‘my faves would never’. that’s what everyone says/thinks until your fave DOES. it’s insulting to the victims, making jokes out of this. and let’s not blame women for supporting bgs, bc saying things like “good thing i only stan ggs” is not making anyone look good, not you, and not your faves. the blaming women for enjoying things is crazy, bc how are we not going to assume that the people we’re supporting are decent human beings at the very least? that’s the bare minimum, for you to expect someone to be a kind, normal human being who treats people with respect, as everyone should. there will always be terrible people in this world, but we can’t blame anyone but the criminal themselves.

i would love to stop posting about this, bc it is getting to be a lot, and is very overwhelming, but i want to keep voicing the issue at hand. korean women have desperately been trying to reach out to international media and gain our attention in the states, so that we can help them spread the word about what has been going on and what they are being subjected to. it’s sickening to look at the evidence of these vile people hurting innocent women and minors of all ages, but if it means we keep this relevant for as long as possible, then i will keep posting on every social media platform to amplify their voices. please continue to share, and spread as much (credible) information for these victims as you can. they are being singled out and targeted for speaking up, and we need to be their voice from across the world.

please please take care of yourselves, take breaks if you need to. just sharing things does a lot, and supporting the people around you who at any point have been in a situation like this, does more than you know.

❗️EDIT: if you would like to learn more about the situation in general on what goes on in sk involving these chat rooms, i recommend watching stephanie soo’s videos on her ‘rotten mango’ youtube channel about this. i will warn you, topics are very heavy and can be triggering, so watch at your own discretion. and listen to her trigger warnings. here is a screenshot of what you can search to find them.

#nct #nct 127 #moon taeil #taeil #south korea #korea #women’s rights #tw sex assault #tw sex abuse

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jesterjaxx · 9 months ago

Text

Halloween AU lore dump!!!

❗️WARNING❗️

so much infodumping world buidling and headcannons

DJ- Robot

Originally built to be a robo cop type deal. But when given free will refused to hurt anyone and got scrapped

Was found and repurposed by "Momma" to be a son

Really fuckin loves animals. Nature in general but mostly animals.

They get spooked by him a lot though

Hes kinda sad about this but gets it.

Momma is a scraper/engineer and outfitted him with everything a "good human boy" would need, like touch receptors and an ability to taste

Nothing to be done about majorly changing how he looks tho

The ability to feel is a bit too much sometimes

Sometimes all he can feel is cold

Goes to Duncan to see if he can do something about helping communicate to animals that he is a friend. Ala magic.

Machinery and Magic don't mix well typically, you gotta be crazy specific, which isn't really Duncan's styel

Duncan likes DJ tho, and proceeds to steal some of Harolds spellbooks

Side plot of them being wayyyy to hard for him to read, in both way too high level and shitty handwritten chickenscratch that fucks with his dyslexia, so he has to ask Harold for help

Maybe they learn to better understand eachother idk

Maybe they kill eachother

Harold and Duncan team up 6 dead 9 injured every single person is fucking baffled

Anyways DJ is like iron giant up in this bitch

His Momma is kinda worried that one day he'll learn enough mechanics to fix himself up and wont need her anymore

Tyler - Harpy

Ok the chicken fear makes sense now

He gets the uncanny valley feeling looking at chickens

I would too

He would fly into a window

Can he fly?

Hes like a turkey

Or a seagull

Wait im an idiot hes a chicken

Duh

Eva - Gargoyle

Her carver loved buff women thank god almighty for that

Punches like a brick wall

Living Stone

lion paws for feet

Did you guys know sound resonates the best through solids??

Her music listening experience is legit i just know it

Noah - The Blob/ slime monster

Oh god that poor guy

Hes gonna get slime all over his books

Harold - Witch

He's the type of witch to have seperate waters for different kinds of spells

A pretty dorky Witch, even by witch standards

Wears proper witch PPE (robes and hat)

Has his sheldon Big Bang Theory style shirts on underneath tho

Uses incantations and written spells in magical languages mainly

Uses the starlight, paper, ink, historical artifacts and an assortment of magical ingredients as fuels

Has a large collection of quality spellbooks for references

Not those shitty amazon spellbooks that are just a list of pre written spells, these ones were written by some old hag 80 years ago and through flowery rambleing language tell you how write spells yourself. They go into spell syntax.

Harolds books for writing incantations and spells are spiral notebooks

If he uses smbols will typically craft a custom sygil for it

Uses alot of number magic and latin

Uses his confidence in his skills with writing spells to harness magic

Is better at doing spells for other people, when doing spells for himself he tends to overcomplicate things

Actually went to magic camps and magic summer schools

"I was trained for this!" and it's Mostly true

Can make the most specific fucking spell work for him

I cannot stress he is good at this type of casting.

Duncan's way of doing magic pisses him off. Both are convinced their way is better

Harold to Duncan ->"What the fuck do you mean you increased your strength with a posca marker, bare knuckles and a dream. How are you not dead yet >:[ "

He has a lot of respect for magic itself, Duncan's almost disrespectful way of using magic makes him mad.

Whats worse is that it works.

How Harold casts a spell

Writes down a goal -> outlines different methods to achieve it (incantations, scrolls, potions) -> writes out the spelleork with alot of detail accounting for almost every outcome -> it takes very long -> outwardly or inwardly recites writes spell to activate it -> profit

Alejandro - Siren

(I give up with organization here no more bullet points)

Mermaids and Sirens are almost identical, with few overt physical differences

Sirens will typically have colored iris', 2 finned gills, longer tounges, boned ears and uniformly sharp teeth

Mermaids have colored scalera, 3 smooth gills, finned ears and sharp canines

This isn't a rule, and in modern times there are few families of sirens or mermaids that havent mixed with other monsters at some point

Both species have shape-shifting abilities.

Mermaids have two forms, and can switch between them at will, though the process takes hours and the mermaid will have to stay in either aquatic or land form for a couple weeks before changing again. though this wait time can be speed up with tailsmen, it's can cause health problems.

Siren can shift their features at will, including shifting from aquatic to non aquatic with no wait time, some families of Siren encourage "good breeding" and fostering shifting abilities to the point of shifting bone structure, hair, colors and gender at will. This level of shifting controll is a very desirable trait, and cannot be learned.

Alejandro is one of these few families who try to stay purely Siren

Hes a 100% Siren, but unlike his brothers he lacks any shape-shifting abilities, a flaw that has brought him great shame (this is just a genetic fluke, it's like a birth defect)

but he has both a very powerful ability to enchant his words and natural charisma. Dangerous combo.

Because of the well known knowledge that Sirens can manipulate people with ease, Alejandro semi pretends that he is a Mermaid, using his long hair to obscure his gills

He more just lets people assume hes a Mermaid and does not correct them rather than actually lying

He lies about many things but outright lying about species is a bit much

Siren Speech doesn't work as good if someone's also using magic at the same time or knows what's up about it

It doesn't work that great on Heather, Duncan or Harold point blank, or Lindsay, Beth Trent and Justin if they're shifting or shifted

Good thing hes manipulative on his own!

Beth - Mermaid

Yeah sure why not

I don't know enough about Beth yet i need a moot whose obsessed with her

Ezekiel - Ghost

Lmao hes invisible

Poor dude probably gets looked over all the time

Hes just clothes and a transparent person

Justin - Werewolf

The twilight girls would go crazy over him i know it

Cody - Puppet

Oh poor dude

Itll look cool tho

Hed make knock on wood jokes all the time

Trent - Werecat

The trustin girls would go crazy over this i know it

But real like hes chillin

Would use claws as a pick

Geoff - Frankenstein

A man of the people

Literally

Looses limbs easily

Wakes up after a party like "wheres my leg lmao"

Heather - Zombie

Oh this is good

Shes vegan

Would insult people like "i can tell you have a brain why the hell don't you use it"

Very concerned over phsyical appearance

Uses so so many products

Pretty alive looking for a zombie cuz of it

It's kinda creepy

Her eyes got no eyeshine tho

Like a shark.

Gwen - Skeleton/Ghost

Ok this was an accidental double Gwen got both Skeleton and ghost

Since Ezekiel is already a ghost i'm Gonna lean into the Skeleton bit more but throw a transparent silhouette over all of her for the ghost bit

Ghost vs Zombie rivalry

She'd do all sorts of cool drawings and markings on her bones

Gwen, drawing a bat on her femur with sharpie: tattoo moment

Her eyeliner is also sharpie

Who the fuck cares about skincare when you don't have skin

Lindsay: you shouldn't put permanent marker on your face! It can hurt you 🥺

Gwen, floating bones:

LeShawna - Chimera

YES I LOVE MONSTER COMBOS

LIKE COMBINATIONS OF MULTIPLE ANIMALS

lets do classic chimera but with one head

Lean into the Lioness bit cuz Leshawna is a boss bitch and Lionesses are so fucking cool

I might give her a scorpion tail

Duncan - Witch

Another double whoops lol

He's a "fuck it we ball" typa witch

lmao he and Harold are beefing like crazy i know it Harold has 12 spellbooks hes memorized with their specific ways of casting and Duncan is writing runes on his knuckles with sharpie

Duncan to Harold ->"Why are you using 2 pages of latin for a fire spell??"

"Because i need only this bit of wood to light on fire a little bit and nothing else and if i dont i could loose control of it or blow it up or it might not even start"

*stares in did finger guns at a branch and cremated it for fun*

Harold to Duncan ->"Why are you writing runes on your nailpolish??"

"i'm tired of being the only scary bitch here without claws"

*stares in once accidentally rubbed spell notes off of his spellbook and onto his face while passed out on his desk and gave himself acid burns for 3 weeks"

They go crazy they go stupid

Hes self taught

The Duncan and Harold bullying arc turned Street smart vs actually Smart but make it witches

Mostly just picking shit up as he goes

"Stole" (it was free) a pamphlet on different types of magical symbols and has managed to make the symbols illustrated in it work for almost every spell he wants

Fueled by raw unrelenting audacity

Real lore tho- magic is created with belief and harnessed with confidence, you can either go the intellectual route and control every variable and have trust in your control of those variables to harness the magic like Harold, or like Duncan, have enough semi-unearned confidence in yourself to harness magic with little need for more than a few variables.

Basically as a general rule, it has as much meaning as you truthfully believe it does

Doesn't explain what hes casting or how hes doing it

"Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"what are you a cop?"

(learned from illustrations, word of mouth, and other witches on the street)

Has a couple stick n poke magical symbols, several other scribbled on symbols that are temporary

Biggest one is a glyph for fire on his hand, he doens most of his spells using it

Has burns around his glyph tattoos from spells backfiring cuz he got distracted

Uses sharpies, spraypaint, eyeliner and the insides of firecrackers for drawing symbols

If he needs a magical material he'll typically substitute whatever he has on him, belief goes a long way.

"Pure Holy Silver?... this earring looks silver enough

This doesn't work for potions cuz potions are only a little left to normal chemistry.

Has alot of talisman he wears

Carries extra ingredients on him ala accessories cuz fuck it it looks cool

Mains his spells with symbols, uses potions or material fuels if he cant make a good connection between what he wants and one of 10 symbols he remembers at any given time

Uses moonlight, bones, rocks, and personal artifacts as fuels

How duncan casts a spell

Draws glyph -> creates a mental connection between what the glyph means and what he wants to do (this is mostly subconscious with Duncan he doenst know what hes doing he just knows he does it well)-> activates glyph physically (ie hitting, tapping, lighting, punching, tracing with finger)

Example: draws fire glyph on Chris's camper -> wants to set it on fire but not the surrounding grass and trees -> smacks the side of the camper that has the glyph on it -> profit

Duncan, to Harold: You make magic math, i make magic my bitch

Bridgette - Alien

Aww she could be so cute

Surfer girl from planet nine

Owen - Plant Monster

This could visually look really cool

Big carnivorous plant

Izzy - Angel

kaleidoscope = biblically accurate form, cuz she "Looks like a kaleidoscope! Duh!"

Lindsay - Selkie

If you steal her coat ill fucking kill you

Sadie - Vampire

Ough thats cute

I'm Gonna make her pigtails batwings

Katie - Zombie

undead girlfriends

Sadie thinks Katie is so pretty it doesn't matter her eye just fell out

Courtney - Demon

Oh this bitch looooves contracts

Is also upset about Duncan but she just doesn't like witches in general

Whats the point of making deals with humans for magical powers of some humans give themselves magical powers

Demon of what?? Pride maybe?? Or envy??

Shes a sweetheart tho

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