#like they coulda gotten around it

[moghedien]

we all need to understand that at the end of the day, the real reason they aged up Moiraine was to make flashing back to New Spring possible

[muddlemore]

never forget when i was 13 at a garage sale and pulled the head of a ginger toy out of a box and got so upset i had to sit in the car

[spikershoyo]

ITS FINALLY HERE!!! YASHHAH!!! Finally leaving this fucking loophole dude

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be. 

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant. 

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace. 

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you. 

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?” 

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry 

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read. 

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once. 

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now. 

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time. 

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door. 

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie. 

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches. 

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door. 

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes. 

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”

[o0sleepingdead0o]

Prepared for Anything

Part 2, MasterPost

Danny stared at the ceiling, bored, as the creepy clown laughed manically at a camera. Danny hadn’t been in this dimension for two minutes, (he’d portalled directly into Joker’s hideout) before he was promptly tied to a chair. He could get out of it easily.

Thing was, there were others here, restrained more thoroughly than Danny. They wore colourful, armoured suits and were obviously the vigilantes/heroes of this. . .place—Gotham? Danny’d heard the name mentioned a few times now—This Freakshow wannabe was obviously one of their villains. 

Danny had been hoping someone would show up without having to draw attention to himself. What was this dimension’s stance on halfas? Or ghosts?

But no one had come yet, it had been an hour, and he was getting stiff from sitting here so long without being able to move his limbs.

Danny heaved a loud, exasperated sigh-groan at the ceiling. The guy, face-painted like a toddler who’d gotten into their parent’s make-up, suddenly stopped monologuing. 

Good. It was getting annoying.

“Are you done yet?” Danny complained much like the impatient teenager he was. “I’ve got crap to do, wrap it up, would you?”

Danny came here to explore. He was not exploring. He should be exploring and it was all this dude’s fault.

Danny supposed he could go all ghost on him and bounce, but he came all this way. It wasn’t much of hassle, but still. Danny was stubborn. He knew this.

The warehouse was silent. The creepo wasn’t talking, anymore, he wasn’t doing anything, and Danny deigned to lift his head from where it’d been thrown back on the chair.

The costumed people were looking at him in horror.

Danny wasn’t sure why.

The walking fashion disaster began to cackle with condescending amusement.

Yeah, okay, whatever.

Danny ignored the man’s delve into something about Danny’s impending doom, or threatening him with pain, and something, something, something. Something about broken this, burning that, yada, yada yada, when Danny got an idea.

Behind the chair where his hands were bound, knowing no one was behind him, he quietly broke the ropes on his wrists. The vigilantes—a red one with bandoliers crossing over his chest and one who wore a largely grey and black suit with an R emblem on the left side of his chest—were valiantly trying to dissuade the psycho to leave Danny alone, who now realized the said psycho was coming towards him, carrying a crowbar.

How original.

The Joker, as Danny heard someone call him at some point, he’s not sure when, leaned in close. His breath stank. 

Danny made a disgusted face. “Do you not brush your teeth at all? Gross, dude.”

“You won’t be mak—“

Danny punched him in the jaw. The guy went down pretty easily. 

Danny made an annoyed noise as he bent down to untie his ankles from the chair legs. He muttered to himself. “Stupid villains, always gotta get in the way, why can’t I just have one nice vacation, huh?”

“How did you do that?” 

Danny looked up at the red one. “Do what?” He asked, standing and stretching with satisfying pops.

“Get free.”

“Oh. . .” Danny reached into his hoodie sleeve and pulled out a small hand saw. He guessed he coulda used a knife, but it was the first thing he'd thought of.

The guy spluttered. “You just keep a saw in your sleeve?”

“Yep.” Danny popped the P. No need for them to know he can make portals. As tiny as needed. “You guys want help out of those, or what?” Danny gestured to the chains keeping the two bound on the floor.

“No, Joker’s goons outside probably has the keys, we have back-up. . . .coming. . . .where did you get that?”

Danny didn’t miss a beat as he crouched to get a grip on the chain with the large pair of bolt cutters. “Ah, ya know, never leave home without a good pair of bolt cutters.” He offered. The room they were in was pretty bare, saying he found it “lying around” wouldn’t work. It’d be pretty obvious.

“That is absurd.” The younger one said. “Where did they come from?”

Danny snapped the red one free and moved onto the angry eyebrows one. How did they still emote so well through those masks? “Just had it on hand.”

“But wh—“

“Oh look! There ya go! I gotta go, nice being held hostage with y'all.” Danny ignored their calls for him, climbing out of the nearest window and disappearing.

[ham1lton]

DO YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME ?

summary: assistant yn takes to instagram to answer some questions from her followers!

pairings: mentions of lando/reader, lewis/reader, max/reader, charles/reader, jude/reader and oscar/reader.

author’s note: thank you to everyone who sent in questions! i can’t thank you all individually, but genuinely i want to say i appreciated your asks!!! this series has only gone on as long as it has due to everyone’s interest and contributions ! <3

— part of the dream girl universe!

START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (5K WATCHING)

(the camera turns to show yn, smiling as she balances the phone against the bathroom mirror as she attempts to finish doing her hair as she faces the camera. she hums along with the song in background which is anticipating by britney spears.)

YN: hello my darlings!! i promised i’d do a ig live once i reached five million followers and here i am!

user1: HI QUEEN

user3: are you at lewis’ house?

YN: no, i’m actually at my own apartment. i do have my own apartment. i don’t live with lewis? you do know that right? it’s important to me that you know this.

user4: coulda fooled us.

user2: this song is a BOP!

user5: thought u were couch surfing.

YN: anyways, i’m gonna answer some questions.

user6: if you had to describe your aesthetic in 3 words, how would you describe it?

YN: hmmmm…. i’d like to say fun, loud and sexy. i like bright colours. my dream comparison is to the hot older sisters from those 2000s movies. y’know? love graphic tees but also form fitting dresses. best part of having a athlete as a boss is that i always get to use his home gym to work out! and i get tips from his nutritionist and personal trainer all the time.

user7: is that the best part of your job?

YN: um… obviously roscoe is the best part of my job. we’re besties. lewis hates it. you know those trends were the family stand next to each other and wait for the kid to choose who’s arms to run into? we did that with roscoe and he chose me. i don’t think lewis has gotten over the betrayal.

user8: it only happened once though right?

user9: maybe it was a fluke?

YN: he said that so we did it five times… and he chose me every time. i really can’t help it that everyone loves me!

user8: yn, what is your type in a guy?

YN: it’s so specific but it’s also not specific at all? like i’ll need to feel out vibes and chemistry before i can say yes or no? but generally i like guys who make me laugh, i feel comfortable around and who smell good. also a cute smile is a big bonus.

user2: i need your thoughts on the new f1 movie and the season so far!!

YN: lewis winning his home race was just pure perfection. he’s the GOAT. i don’t care what you twitter warriors have to say. also charles winning his home race was very emotional for me. that’s all i’ll say. lando’s race win was so much fun cause we were in the club for hours afterwards. the film is a bit much but i keep seeing damson idris everytime i walk onto the paddock and that’s a treat. he’s so fine.

user6: hey yn where and how do i bag a man like charles?? i need a play by play …. i want princess treatment too😩���

YN: babe i’ve been asking the same thing but lewis forbade me from taking roscoe out on walks to entice rich monegasque men. it’s very upsetting to me. i’ll text charles about your proposal, maybe he’ll accept?!

landonorris: HI YN 👋🏼

YN: hi lando! we still on for tonight?

landonorris: always 😁

user10: what’s happening tonight??

landoynnie: MY TIME TO SHINE 😁😁😁

landonorris: i love britney spears too!

user9: landonorris name five britney songs GO!

landonorris: slave 4 u, toxic, hit me baby one more time, anticipating (cause yn always plays it in the car) and deep in my heart.

YN: i do love anticipating. this is my pump up and get ready song!

landoynnie: WAIT…. U AND LANDO SHARE THE SAME CAR?????? U GUYS R MARRIED REALLY

user10: landoynnie ur delusional

YN: my normal apartment is close to lando’s, so he gives me a lift sometimes. no biggie.

lewishamilton: next time i’ll order you an uber yn.

landonorris: it’s better this way lewishamilton, good for the environment 😁

lewishamilton: 🙄

user11: yn, what does your daily routine look like?

YN: wake up, get breakfast. i usually make my way over to lewis’ if i’m not already there. i feed roscoe, take him out for his business if you get my drift. play with him, triple check lewis’ schedule and then lewis will meet me at around seven. he eats, then he goes for a run or a workout. i don’t join him so i sort through emails and boring paperwork. a lot of my job is basically just emails and paperwork. then i go with lewis to whatever events he has that day, do a bunch of behind the scenes work and then i come back. i eat dinner with him most days, and then i go home and sleep!

user12: sounds boring.

user13: sound sexy omg. i would DIE to be around lewis all day.

YN (laughing): it is boring! it’s a job.

user13: what are your fav tasks to do for lewis?

YN: i get to drive his cars sometimes. he has a bad habit of forgetting things so i’m the one who jumps in the car and goes back and gets it. i love doing that. the drives are so smooth and i get to blast my playlist but i always blast my playlists.

user14: do u listen to xnda’s feature?

user15: i listen to ur playlists all the time btw!

YN: pookies, i listen to xnda’s songs all the time. i get access to his unreleased stuff. i’m there when he records it sometimes.

user14: IM SO JEALOUS

user16: THAT SHOULD BE ME 😒😒😔

user17: pookie they are saying youre fucking that bald guy for diamonds, bags and trips is it true??? please say it isn’t 😭😭

YN: WHAT BALD GUY?

user18: THE WAY U DIDNT EVEN DENY IT???

YN: i have never slept with anyone for diamonds or bags or trips. i work! i have a good salary and a great boss. you can check my bank account honestly.

user19: is ur type bald men?

YN: god no! shout out to the baldies though.

user20: LMFAOOOOOO

user4: yn, i heard you were interviewed quite a few times for this season of drive to survive. can you give us a little spoiler? what was it about?

YN: omg who’s leaking this info…. but yes! i was! a lot of it was just about lewis obviously but who doesn’t love hearing new info about thee sir lewis hamilton? i don’t think i can tell you anything more than that. i’m scared i’ll get sued or that netflix have a sniper trained on me and will shoot me before i finish the sentence.

user4: thank you for what you did tell us!

user21: what is the most unexpected song u and lewis have sang at karaoke

YN: well, lewis is a better singer than me. so i like to do the rap parts but he’s also a better rapper than me. so i do like the adlibs. but we did umbrella the other day! that was fun. i usually do karaoke with lando because we both get so drunk it’s fun. also he can’t sing at all. so it makes me feel better.

user22: what do you and lando sing?

YN: we did high school musical the other day! i was troy.

user23: HELSOSO

user24: lando: oh is this necklace ‘Y’ for yn? 😃

user16: if lando is gabrielle… who’s sharpay and stealing yn from lando….

user19: obvi oscar.

user25: i miss landoyn’s drunk ig stories.

user21: speaking of music, yn how did you feel when jessica left snsd 😔

YN: i remember exactly where i was. same thing when zayn left one direction. they both affected me personally. worst day ever. she was my bias too…. my comfort bad bitch….

user12: ZAYN LEAVING 1D OH GOD

user13: i remember that…. my school was in shambles!!!

user7: SHOUT OUT JESSICA GIRLIES … we all suffered together 😔

oscarpiastri: hi yn. what’s this.

YN: hello oscar piastri. this is my instagram live. do you have a question for me?

oscarpiastri: yes. what are you doing later?

user21: OOOP

user12: oscaryn comes up to clinch the title of couple goals.

lewisynnie: say ur busy yn <3

landoynnie: why is he asking out his teammate’s gf??

charlesynnie: landoynnie maybe because they’re not dating and you’re delusional?

landoynnie: charlesynnie says the CHARLESYN STAN ACCOUNT !!!

judeynnie: the way all of you are delusional. did you see yn like the jude tiktok edit? that’s her man.

lewisynnie: judeynnie A FLUKE! a mistake. maybe she just liked the beat. it means nothing.

maxynnie: well. this is a lot. hmm.

oscarynnie: SAY YES YN!!!! OSCARYN ENDGAME PLEASE GOD!!!!

YN: i am free this evening. what do you have planned?

oscarpiastri: i’ll text you, see you later yn!

oscarynnie: WE WON WE WONW EON WE WON

lewisynnie: oscarynnie who cares.

landoynnie: literally like… 😹

user21: YOU’RE ALL DELUSIONAL HOW ABOUT THAT !

END INSTAGRAM LIVE. (123K WATCHING)

— dream girl series taglist: @flowergirl1134 @laur20a23 @greantii @rafebun @sumlovesjude @papayadays

— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @lennnooshh @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @lavisenri @marshmummy @23victoria @ourlifeforchaos @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @tsireyasgf @landososcar @yongi-lee @maxlarens @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi

[darlingdekarios]

hibernate.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 6,152 content: Arthur Morgan x f!reader, animal hunting mentions, cannon-accurate outlaw behavior, cowboy meet cute, Arthur Morgan is a simp, snowed in, fluff, smut [v fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, cockwarming], kink(s) [spit as lube]

it was like fate insisted on the two of you colliding.

The first time you’d met Arthur Morgan was a lovely March night in New Hanover, opportunities abound as the hustle and bustle of life was at its highest point of the year, the weather the most tolerable for moving about. Returning from an evening of fishing now that the water wasn’t frozen in some areas and sketching birds by the river when he stumbled across a lone figure boarding train – well after midnight. He followed on horseback under the cover of trees in anticipation, joined by your own horse shortly after. He followed alongside with a hold of the strange horse’s reins until the train came to a stop. 

He'd strained to hear you, considered boarding after you to clean up any straggling guards – it wasn’t his business, so he didn’t – but curiosity held him close. When the sound of police approaching quickly began you emerged to the top of the train, looking around desperately for your horse. Temporarily frozen when the moonlight caught your face and confirmed to the man that you were a woman, he recovered just in time to spring into action.

It had been Arthur who had led your horse to you and instructed you to follow. It was Arthur’s path that led you away from the law and eventually far enough away to be free of their hunting.

“Are you some kinda lunatic, lady?” he questioned when the two of you slowed side-by-side under the cover of thick trees, his face hard-set and stern. “You coulda gotten yourself tossed away for a long time back there.”

“I didn’t, though,” you laughed, and despite the feeling that burned in him that he couldn’t quite place as anger or worry Arthur’s stomach flipped at the sound and the way your laugh reached your eyes. You adjusted your hat with a playful smile on your lips, keeping the reins to your horse in one hand. 

“Thanks to me,” he asserted, the stress causing him to light up a cigarette and adjust his hat. His eyes caught your gaze and you held it, appreciating his handsome features for a moment as your smile twisted wider.

“I would’ve figured it out, cowboy – you can be sure of that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ve seen your face on ‘wanted’ posters, Mr. Morgan,” you proclaimed, tone proud as you called him on his identity. He took another drag from his cigarette before leaning forward comfortably in his saddle, outstretching a hand toward you. 

“Arthur,” he offered, amusement flashing across his features when you shook his hand firmly. “And I’ve seen yours, too. What is it they call you…?”

“The Panther,” you replied, that proud tone ever-present in your voice. “A nice tribute to my best hunt.”

His poker face was too well-trained to reveal that he was impressed – that he was intrigued.

“Well next time you go thinkin’ of doing something so goddamn stupid like rob a train at midnight alone,” he began, gruff voice filled with frustration as he attempted to present his unamused façade. “You could invoke that particular nickname and be a little more subtle.”

The second time was just as circumstantial. It was July – the heat sweltering, the air sticky, the fireflies sparkling in fields at night. You’d been riding for days, hunting gators in the swamps for weeks and now headed back to a more familiar area where you felt more at home. Just past Emerald Ranch you’d spotted him on the road ahead – his hat unmistakable and burned into your mind, his horse giving away his identity to anyone who knew it. 

There was no questioning if he’d want your company – you didn’t even give it a thought. Instead, you’d hastened your own horse to catch up with him.

“Where ya headed, cowboy?” you questioned as you approached from behind, adjusting your hat back on your head to offer more of your face to him. Your voice immediately sent a shiver down his spine, the barely-there smile crossing his features unmissed by you.

Four months trying to remember your face and voice hadn’t done it any justice.

“Valentine,” he replied, slowing his horse’s stride to match yours. The two of you set a lazy pace, in no real hurry to get anywhere. “You following me now, cat?”

“Like I ain’t got better things to do, Mr. Morgan?” you joked, nose scrunching as you smiled. The Summer sun had done beautiful things for your color, he noted. “Give you $50 and shine your guns if you can beat me there.”

“Are you tryin’ to race me?” he questioned with a subtle laugh, raising an eyebrow in your direction.

“Won’t be much of a race, cowboy.”

He let out a real, genuine, albeit short laugh at that. The sound filled the air around you, made birds vacate trees. Your heart soared away alongside them.

“And what is it you want if you win?”

“A nice bottle of whisky,” you replied after a brief moment of thought, reaching your hand to rub your horse’s neck gently. Arthur had forgotten how gentle your hands were with everything they touched – the rediscovery lighting up his mind. “And a hot meal at your camp.”

“Can’t promise the gang’ll let you eat at camp without drinking, too.”

“Which is why I asked for a bottle of whisky,” you remarked, that shit-eating grin he was starting to love spreading on your face again. “Do we have a deal?”

“Hope your horse is fast enough to back up that mouth of yours,” he quipped back, intentionally antagonizing you as he started to pick up the speed slightly. “Or that you’ve got plenty of gun oil.”

You shot forward then, the dust of the road kicking up behind you as you left Arthur behind on a road you both knew well. In reality he could’ve caught you – could’ve even won if he’d pushed his horse hard enough – but the sound of your laughter in the cool evening air was reason enough to lose. 

It wasn’t a surprise when you crossed over into the town first.

“You cheated,” he argued as he approached, allowing his horse to slow to a reasonable speed for being around other people. “Got a head start. Doesn’t count.”

“You’re just a sore loser.”

“Maybe I am,” he replied, reaching up to remove his hat to resituate his wind-blown hair. You were momentarily transfixed on his fingers running through the strands that looked soft – maybe in need of a wash but soft nonetheless – but quickly wished he’d left it messy. “Weren’t mean you didn’t get a head start, cat.”

“Oh, like a couple steps mattered,” you entered an easy banter with him, just like the two of you had done in the Spring. He’d missed it – hadn’t realized how much he had until then. “Coulda given you a five-minute head start and still would’ve beat you and that slowpoke horse you ride.”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re difficult?” 

“Heard it a couple times,” there was that smile again – the nose crinkling one. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep his thoughts to himself with you smiling that way – at him. You jumped down from your stallion and hitched him with ease, feeding the massive animal a small snack in appreciation of his efforts. “I can compromise. I buy the whisky, but I still get a hot meal at your camp.”

He pondered your proposal only briefly before nodding, letting out an affirmative huff in agreeance. “I’ll meet you at the butcher when you’re done.”

You gave your horse a gentle pat and nodded, turning back to meet his gaze. “Sell that fox pelt I have up on Scratch, will ya?”

Easy. Simple. Honest. Sensible. Arthur loved having you around camp that night – and the night after when you’d been convinced to stay again by the women – though it was hardly just them that enjoyed your company. You’d made easy companions in the camp with your sharp tongue and ability to hold your alcohol. You had plenty of stories to share with Arthur’s chosen family – each one of them genuinely interesting to the gang.

Everyone knew the fact Arthur had brought you around meant you were a good person. The beauty was a bonus, he’d been informed in privacy. He’d only told Sean to shut his mouth in response. Arthur slept by the fire that night so you could sleep in his cot, and if anyone else in the gang saw the way he’d sat up for at least an hour with his eyes transfixed on your sleeping figure in his bed. 

It was Fall, October to be exact, the next time he heard from you – this time you had taken fate into your own hands to seek out his company. He was certain he’d never be able to dispose the letter you’d penned and sent to his camp.

Dear Arthur, Kinda strange to call you “dear”, huh?  Anyway, I have a job comin’ up in Saint Denis that involves me boarding a train quite late at night and remembering our conversation earlier this year I thought I may ask you to join.  Job is planned for the night of October 18, the Saturday after next. I’ll meet you the Friday before at the saloon in Van Horn if you plan on joining me.  I do hope you join me.  Hope that gang of yours isn’t being too rough on you. 

He arrived in Van Horn a day early and rented himself a room – and a bath – so he was prepared for the meeting. He was in the saloon before you, his chest clenching as you walked in through the swinging doors. 

You’d taken a page from his book and clearly bathed recently as well, and you were dressed for the first time in front of him in feminine attire. The sight of you in a skirt shouldn’t have affected him the way it did – it was embarrassing for a man his age. It didn’t prevent the pressure building at his waist, nor did it stop him from speaking his mind.

“You had to wear that damn skirt, didn’t ya?” he questioned when you joined him, a smile spreading across your face. It was hardly a gentlemanly way to greet you, but then again, he was hardly a gentleman. “Knew what you were doin’ puttin’ that on with me coming in today…”

“You complained so much about the pants last time I figured I’d save myself the headache,” you replied, sliding into a chair next to him and crossing your legs for emphasis. “You don’t like it?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, kitten,” he’d practically purred – a new tone between the two of you. There was no denying that you wanted to hear it more, and you nearly chose to forget the real reason you were now sitting beside him. 

“I need to look the part tomorrow for the job,” you replied quickly, eager to squash the tension now building between the two of you, unwilling to allow the job to go forgotten. There was too much money at stake. “Have to board a real nice train when it leaves out of Saint Denis tomorrow night. There’s a safe onboard I’d like to get my hands into.”

“Can’t just rob it the old-fashioned way?”

“Someone didn’t like the last time I did that,” you teased, feeling pleased with the smile it earned. “Figured I’d board and crack the safe.”

“Why you need me then?”

“Need someone to play my husband and keep watch while I’m workin’ on the safe.”

“Your husband,” he huffed out with another laugh, a brief shake to his head. The term had always been silly to him, just as silly as the idea of marriage was to you as a whole, really – and yet, there was no denying the clench in both of your chests at the mere thought. The imaginary suggestion manifested in brief images of domesticity, the vision of you sleeping in his cot in July flashing in his mind. 

You didn’t miss the slight redness to his cheeks, he didn’t miss how your smile fluttered into something laced with affection. For all your joking demeanor, it was still clear that there was some secretive sincerity beneath the surface – that you cared for Arthur. And on Arthur’s part, well…he wouldn’t ride across the country to work for just anyone.

“Yes,” you replied when you’d pulled yourself from the depths of his eyes. “A woman travelling with her husband is far less likely to draw attention than if I were alone.”

You thought there would be some protest, though if you’d seen even a fraction of the thoughts Arthur had conjured up in the preceding months you’d never have to question it. To you what seemed to be him conceding was actually the outlaw taking a step he’d long considered taking with you the next chance he got. 

Arthur just wanted to spend time with you – there were probably very few things he’d say no to right now in regard to you. He wouldn’t go admitting that out loud anytime soon either. 

“Fine, I’ll go along with your little plan. Only so you don’t go gettin’ yourself arrested.”

“Great!” you exclaimed, the brightness that covered your face blinding but serving as confirmation that he was making the right choice. The money he was sure to get would be a bonus, too. “I got you a wedding ring. Looks like it’ll fit. You can sell it when the job’s done, as a thank you.”

“You get it off a dead body?”

“He didn’t need it anymore.”

There was that goddamn feeling in his chest again. 

This was the fourth time destiny had crossed your path with Arthur Morgan’s. 

Now, the ring still lay in the outside pouch of his satchel, the cool metal brushing against the tips of his calloused fingers often daily in a physical reminder of you. Today, feeling the pull of being apart from you for four months now and into the new year, he’d been clutching the metal in his gloved hands as he led his horse through the far North. Seeking the solitary bliss of being alone in the mountains for the winter, he had opted to simply ride and camp, sketching in his journal and enjoying the snow dusted scenery. Arthur’s plan was soon thwarted as a snowstorm began to roll in.

He'd been riding along the same worn path to make his way down the mountain when he noticed horse tracks leading into the thick forest – a horse, by the look of it, with no reemergence to be seen. Opting to do the honorable thing, Arthur pursued the trail, weaving through trees atop his own horse until he came to a small clearing where you were setting predator bait.

He didn’t know the kind of words to describe the way he felt seeing you right in front of him.

“Are you some kinda lunatic, cat?” 

If he had a way with words, he’d tell you that your smile was brighter than the sun itself – fleeting shooting stars, the North Star when he’s lost. 

“That’s not the first time you’ve asked me that question, Mister Morgan,” you replied, standing up and patting your horse as your gaze remained transfixed on him now. Even at this distance you could see the blue in his coat had electrified his eyes, the tone a perfect match for the world around you. You found it hard to form any further rebuttal. 

“Won’t be the last either, given you’re doing something fucking crazy every time I see you,” he teased, finally giving into the natural ease he felt with you. The light air between the two of you had finally lulled him into a sense of comfort around you – he was willing to admit he was concerned, in his own way. “There’s a storm rollin’ in. You trying to freeze to death?”

“Trying to hunt a white wolf,” you replied, glancing back at the bait you’d just set and adjusting the bow you held in your hands, an arrow already grasped between two fingers. 

Fuckin’ hell, Arthur thought. ‘Course that’s what you’re out here doing.

“You ain’t gonna be hunting much of anything when you turn into an icicle,” he replied, hopeful that you would understand his taunting was coming from a place of concern – not control. “You got Scratch nearby?”

“I suppose you’re right,” you smiled, slipping the arrow back into the quiver on your back and whistling to call your horse back to you. You mounted up on the animal easily, Arthur taking the moment to appreciate how languid your movements were – how graceful. His eyes lingered at your waist for a moment longer than was decent.

“If I remember right there’s a cabin just up the road. Been empty the last few times I rode by,” he explained, his words offering more than just a place to shield from the freeze. 

Arthur wanted to spend time with you. You’d truly have to be a lunatic to think otherwise.

“Lead the way, cowboy.”

The snow picked up as the two of you rode side-by-side, both of your horses slowing as the powder piled up, creating heavier footsteps. While Arthur spoke to his horse beside you to soothe her through the storm, you could feel his eyes consistently on you despite the painful whip of flakes against his unshielded cheeks.

What could have been a short ride in the summer extended in the weather, and by the time the cabin approached view you had begun to shiver – something Arthur took note of. When he climbed from his horse he unrolled the blanket on the back of his saddle, passing it up to you before grabbing his shotgun. 

“I’ll check inside, you try not to shiver s’much you fall off your horse.”

He disappeared into the cabin, your mind focusing on the sounds of him moving about rather the piling snow that was sure to trap you for days. Keeping yourself wrapped in his blanket provided the additional comfort of his lingering scent, and you found yourself clutching the fabric tighter and tighter as the moments passed.

“This’ll be fine ‘til the storm’s passed,” he announced as he exited through the doors, voice raised so you could hear him over the wind. “You go on in while I get some firewood and hitch the horses.”

“I can help, you know,” you offered, eyebrows pulling together to communicate your frustration. 

“Would you stop your arguing for once and go inside out of this shit?”

By the time Arthur made his way in from the storm you’d used what wood remained in the cabin to start a fire, the flames warming the air around it quickly. The mattress was considerably dirty and out of the question, so you were validated in the decision to carry in your bedrolls and blankets, having set them up comfortably in front of the fire. 

His heavy boots sounded on the floor as he approached where you sat on the floor from behind, and while you couldn’t see him, you could feel his eyes on you. 

“Already got a fire going?”

“Uh huh,” you replied, noting the subtle shake to his voice. Arthur was strong, but he was human, and he was cold. The fact that he not only was willing to but insisted on suffering for you caused a knot to form in your stomach. “Got some whisky if you need help warming up.”

He simply grunted affirmatively in reply, setting the stack of wood carefully to the side and picking out the driest pieces to tend the fire with now. You tempted to hand the bottle out to him, the liquid going ignored as he began to peel off layer by layer, tossing the soaked clothing to the side lazily with little regard for how they ended up. Normally you’d have stood to hang the clothes, but you found yourself spellbound by the way Arthur’s muscles flexed with each movement under the simple wet damp button up shirt – the last remaining layer.

When he was somewhat comfortable, he turned to face you, eyes flashing with amusement as he took the bottle from your fingers. You were certain your mouth was hanging open and he’d caught you. At the moment, you could hardly bring yourself to care.

Hours passed as the two of you got warm and caught up over the last few weeks. You sat opposite one another, both wrapped in your own blankets and full of enough whisky to ignore the storm outside – to ignore everything but one another. Arthur hadn’t missed that most of your clothes lie neatly folded atop the countertop. The thought was repeating in his mind – the heavy question of what exactly remained under the blanket haunting him. 

He couldn’t be blamed for not being a good listener. 

“Arthur, are you even listenin’ to me?”

“Not a fuckin’ word,” he replied with one more small swig of whisky from the bottle, setting it well out of the way to the side. “Stop fuckin’ doin’ that if you want me to listen.”

“Doing what?”

You knew damn well what.

“Lookin’ at me like you want me to come crawl on top of you.”

Why on Earth would you ever stop doing that? 

“No.”

Your mouth was going to drive him to insanity one day. He wasn’t going to do a single thing about it.

“Did you just tell me ‘No’?” 

“Yeah, Arthur, I surely did,” you replied, quick and agile as you were on your feet. He was beginning to think you may only talk to hm this way, and that thought alone was enough to make him want to reach out to you. “Hoping you take the hint.”

The blanket he’d been using for himself was discarded to the side, your words finally snapping the thin thread of control that remained in him. He extended one arm outward toward the floor to support himself, outstretching his legs to be situated in a more comfortable position before his eyes found yours again. 

“Come on over here,” his invitation came thick as molasses and dripping just as sweet, his free hand patting his right thigh to give his words deeper meaning. “Bring the blanket.”

Arthur had finally figured out how to get you to stop arguing and basked in the glory of the moment as you crawled to him carefully, finding a comfortable seat in his lap as you straddled his thighs. He savored the view as you wrapped your arms around his neck, encompassing you both with the blanket, your face illuminated by the golden glow of the well-tended fire – beautiful, warm, inviting. 

He was more than happy to finally accept. 

“Are you gonna kiss me, Arthur?”

He knew you were trying to sound resolute as you always did – firm and demanding and impossible to deny. While those things lingered – he doubted they could ever truly be gone from you – what really laced your words was the quietest of whines. He sat up fully, bringing his torso closer to yours and grasping your hips in both hands, all the while your heart beating faster and faster in anticipation.

When you opened your mouth to let your protest be known again, he took his opportunity to claim your lips in a long-awaited kiss, the feeling of his lips caressing yours sucking the air from your chest immediately. He opted to slide his hands to your lower back to bring you in closer, pressing your chests together as he kissed you hungrily. Touch starved and overwhelmed by the feeling of you returning his kiss with soft lips he sought more of your skin, sliding his hands up the back of the loose blouse you remained in. 

“Clothes are still wet,” he grumbled against your lips, displeased by the cool touch to your skin that remained. You scrambled to reinitiate the kiss, your lips catching his bottom lip as a whine slipped through your lips. A quiet chuckle rumbled through his chest as he nuzzled your cheek with his nose. 

“Take them off, then,” you breathed out, bowing your head to press a delicate kiss to his neck. His own breath caught, arms wrapping tighter around you – almost too tight, almost too crushing. You made no move to stop him as you began to test the best places to leave your kisses, spurring him to release his hold on you to start peeling the last layers from both of you. 

Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear when all that remained were intimate coverings, a shaky groan rolling through his chest. His hands engulfed you, sliding up your torso until he cupped your breasts, dipping his head to claim your lips again. 

That kiss was hungry – starved – clumsy in ways that screamed of desperation. His thumbs rubbed over your nipples lightly, a smile evident on his lips despite the fact he continued to kiss you as a moan slipped from your throat. It spiraled from there, both of your hands exploring, your fingers the best thing he’d felt against his skin in a long time. As the pressure built heavier at your waist his hands trailed lower, one stopping to grasp your waist, the other slipping into the waistband of your underwear. 

He'd never heard music that sounded as good as the sound of the moan that left you as his thick fingers swiped through your wet folds, an appreciative hum shaking in his throat as you burrowed your face in his neck. 

“You’re already soaked for me, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice getting lower and lower with each word. He began to sink his index finger into you, grasping your hip tighter in his other hand. “Fuckin’ tight, too. Hell.”

“Arthur…”

“Aw, hush,” he cooed, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple as he curled his finger inside you, pulling a quiet whimper from you. “No point tryin’ to talk right now, darlin’ – just lemme take care of ya.”

He could take his sweet time, Arthur Morgan. He was a patient man, especially when it came to you, and never more-so than now as he began to work his finger in and out of your clenching heat. He added a second finger soon, pressing the heel of his hand to your clit to give you more pressure, which you gladly accepted by rocking your hips into it. 

As he pumped his fingers into you he began to trail kisses lower, the kisses growing heavier and wetter the further down he went. By the time he nipped at your hip with his teeth lightly you were breathless, eyes squeezed shut as you lost yourself to pleasure. He kissed across your waistline as he pulled your underwear down, smiling against your skin lightly when you kicked them free with frustrated fervor. 

Nothing up to this point compared to the feeling of Arthur sliding his tongue from his fingers to your clit, giving the sensitive bundle of nerves a soft suck. He repeated the motion as you struggled to even moan, your hands grasping at the blankets now on the floor beneath you as you tried to rock your hips into his face desperately.

“Easy, now,” Arthur reprimanded with quiet reverence behind his words, turning his head to press a kiss to your inner thigh softly. “I’m takin’ my time with you, don’t rush me.”

You finally opened your eyes, ready to give him an earful about being a tease, only to be frozen once again faced with the sight of Arthur, golden illuminated by the fire and somehow still wearing his hat tipped back on his head. You maintained eye contact with him as you reached forward with your hands, removing the hat with one hand and placing it on your own head as your fingers ran through his hair, giving a soft tug at the end. 

The growl vibrated through him and you as he connected his lips to your clit, pumping his fingers into you and connecting the tips, curling them skillfully to rub against the sensitive patch deep within you as he sucked your clit. All the while he maintained eye contact, even when he removed his mouth from you with one final flick of his tongue, just as he removed his fingers from you. 

“Arthur…” you whimpered in protest, tugging his hair again to try to bring him back to your needy core.

“Hush,” he instructed tenderly, slipping his hands under your ass and grasping firmly to lift your waist from the floor. He soaked in the view of your glistening folds at this angle and tested how it looked to watch one of his fingers slip into you before removing it, licking his lips again. “You are a pretty little thing, ain’t ya?”

Your reply was sucked from your chest and altered into a cry of pleasure as he spit on your folds, smearing the liquid around before connecting his thumb to your clit, rubbing a figure eight. Supporting your raised hips still with one hand he continued to rub your clit, now using his tongue to fuck into you rather than his fingers, tasting you how he’d wanted to for nearly a year now.

The pressure continued to build and boil, eventually reaching a point of eruption – all the usual signs there with your shaking thighs, shorter and desperate breaths, your nails scratching against his temple as you gripped whatever you could. Arthur figured it was a previously unknown bonus to him keeping his hair a little on the longer side. He groaned to encourage you, switching his movements to pump his fingers into you again, circling your clit with his tongue until you became incendiary, your first orgasm washing through you with white hot heat.

He continued to lap at your folds as you came, removing his tongue from you occasionally only to kiss your thighs and mutter tender praises as you came back down to your body. When you had some sense about yourself, he was crawling back up you, pressing kisses to your stomach and breasts before he reached your lips, offering you a taste of your own honey sweet pleasure on his tongue.

When the adoration filled amorous kiss ended so Arthur could breathe you began to trail kisses down his neck again, following a trail to his chest before his index finger caught under your chin, lifting you back up to him, cerulean eyes questioning.

“Your turn,” you offered, slipping one of your hands into the waistband of his underwear and wrapping your fingers around his throbbing cock slowly. Running your finger over the velvet head you smeared the pre-spend leaking already, biting at your swollen bottom lip when he moaned. 

“Not tonight, sweet thing,” he declined, his hesitation clear in his voice. You began to rub him gently – slowly – too damn slow – causing his eyes to roll back briefly. “You wrap these lips around me, and I won’t last long enough t’ fuck you.”

“Please.”

You didn’t truly know what you were begging for – for him to test himself and allow you to take his already throbbing cock into your mouth or for him to follow through on that promise to fuck you. Luckily, Arthur seemed to know exactly what your words were asking for – what you needed. 

He reached to remove your hand from his cock gently, freeing himself of his underwear before he gently moved you to your side, lying beside you with his back to the fire to shield you from getting too much heat, to ensure you didn’t get hurt. One arm wrapped around your waist while the other slid to cup your cheek in his hand, bringing you in closer to him as he kissed you again. 

As much fun as he’d been having teasing, he was done with the games now, and could no longer find the patience. He reached to lift your leg around his waist before grasping his cock, rubbing against your still-soaked entrance for a moment to gather some lubrication before he sank into you. Inch by inch disappeared into your velvet channel, the kiss practically halting as you gasped. He leaned his forehead against yours instead, grasping your waist gently as he continued to slip into you.

“Atta fuckin’ girl,” he breathed out. The large hand that still cupped your cheek slipped downward to rest against your neck instead, his fingertips digging into your skin in attempt to steady himself, to savor your pulse beneath his touch. “Takin’ me so good. You doin’ okay?”

You nodded as you stared into his eyes, pupils blown wide and mouth hanging open already at the feeling of him stretching you, almost too full but not something you’d be willing to give up anytime soon. When he’d fully seated himself within you, his cock buried to the hilt he released a shaky groan of his own, his eyes briefly closing as he savored the feeling of being wrapped up in you.

“Goddamn you’re tight,” he groaned out, pressing several light kisses to your lips before grinding his hips into yours slightly. “Shoulda crawled ‘tween your legs months ago.”

“Would…ah…woulda let you,” you managed to reply, pressing your lips to his in an unabashedly salacious kiss, already perfecting how to slot your lips against his in a way that left him craving more. He couldn’t hold back his movements any longer and began to pump into you repeatedly, setting a wanton and quick pace that somehow managed to remain tender and reverent.

He could only be tender for so long, desperation and months of waiting and yearning building in him. His movements began to get sloppy sooner than he’d have liked, though he felt better when your walls began to flutter and clench around him, your thigh shaking around his hip slightly. He picked up his pace to a much more relentless one, driving his cock into you and into your spongy cervix repeatedly as his grunts became more frequent, pressing kisses to your neck now.

“Want you to finish while I’m inside you,” he instructed, though there was something so subtly desperate behind his words – a quiet beg that only someone who knew him would recognize. “Think you can do that for me, darlin’?”

You nodded before leaning your head back again, quiet cries leaving your lips as he connected his thumb to your clit again, immediately choosing a relentless pace to rub in circles. You were almost certain you’d do anything he asked and soon enough you were pushed over the edge again, your walls clenching him so tight he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to remove himself. He did his best to continue pumping into you roughly now as he sought his own release, certain you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. Like you’d need to, anyway. 

“F-fill me up, Arthur,” you begged unexpectedly through your euphoria, and he didn’t need anything else to convince him. With only a few more bruising thrusts he stilled inside you as he emptied his seed in hot ropes into you, groaning loudly as he lazily leaned his forehead to yours again, his own eyes screwed shut.

He didn’t remove himself from you when you’d both ridden your orgasms, instead holding you close and reaching to cover the two of you in one of the blankets that was on the floor. He wrapped his arms around you tightly to hold you closer to him, slipping one of his legs between yours for additional comfort and warmth. Still semi-hard with plenty of stamina to offer you couldn’t ignore the feeling of him seated in you still, buried as deep as possible as he brushed his nose against yours. 

“Be a whole lot warmer this way,” he offered, giving a subtle move of his hips to emphasize the meaning behind his words. He pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose before reaching upward to kiss your forehead, leaving his lips resting there. He was right – you did finally feel warm.

“Mm,” was all you could reply, laying your head against his shoulders and closing your eyes, burrowing your face into his neck. He smiled as you managed to press lazy kisses into his neck before wrapping your arms around him as well. 

“Think I’ll keep you here all winter,” he offered after several blissful moments, his head leaning to rest on the top of yours as his own eyes closed. He pressed one final kiss to your temple before succumbing to the comfort of you fully.

“Always knew you were a big teddy bear, Arthur,” you teased. How you managed to run your mouth still after he’d fucked you right was beyond him – but it was also probably a reason he’d want to keep fucking you.

“We’ll call it hibernation, then.”

masterlist. red dead redemption masterlist.

[wolvietxt]

𝓭ay 𝓼eventeen.

daryl dixon and protective.

it was supposed to be a routine supply run. the group needed food, water, and a few extra supplies, so you, daryl, and shane headed out to a nearby town to see what you could scavenge. things had gone sideways fast when a horde of walkers had emerged from an alley, forcing everyone to split up. you’d managed to find cover and fire off a few shots to keep them at bay while daryl and shane took out the rest.

by the time the three of you regrouped, you were shaken and exhausted, but you’d made it out alive. however, it was clear from the second shane’s eyes landed on you that he was far from happy.

“what the hell were you doin’ back there?” shane’s voice cut through the air, loud and furious. he stalked towards you, his eyes blazing with anger. “you were supposed to cover our flank, not go runnin’ off on your own!”

“i didn’t - ” you started, but he cut you off before you could explain.

“yeah, you did!” he snapped, jabbing a finger in your direction. “if daryl and i hadn’t been there to pick up the slack, you’d be walker bait right now. you put us all in danger, runnin’ around like a damn headless chicken!”

“shane, i was trying to help,” you protested, your voice breaking as you took a step back. “the walkers came outta nowhere, and i thought - ”

“thought what? that you’d play hero?” shane’s words dripped with venom as he took a step closer, his chest almost bumping into yours. “you ain’t got the skills to be out there tryin’ to save anyone’s ass, includin’ your own. all you did was get in the way.”

your breath hitched, and you felt your throat tighten as tears stung your eyes. you blinked rapidly, trying to keep them at bay, but the pressure kept building. “i was doing my best, shane,” you said quietly, struggling to keep your voice steady. “i didn’t mean for - ”

“oh, here we go,” shane scoffed, rolling his eyes. “gonna start cryin’ now? what are you, a damn crybaby?” his voice rose again, echoing across the deserted street. “grow up. you wanna be out here with the rest of us, you better toughen up and stop actin’ like some scared little girl.”

the harshness of his words felt like a slap, and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. they spilled over, trailing down your cheeks as you stood there, frozen and humiliated. shane’s anger didn’t waver; if anything, it seemed to flare hotter at the sight of your tears. he shook his head in disgust, his voice a low growl. “unbelievable,” he muttered, stepping even closer so that you had no choice but to back up again.

daryl’s presence was suddenly there between you and shane, pushing shane back with a firm shove to the chest. his expression was deadly calm, but there was a fire in his eyes that you’d rarely seen before. he turned his back slightly to shield you, his broad shoulders blocking shane’s line of sight.

“what’s your problem, man?” shane barked, shoving daryl right back, his jaw tightening. “this ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

“it does when you’re standin’ here screamin’ in her face and pushin’ her around,” daryl shot back, his voice a low growl. “she did what she could out there, same as the rest of us. don’t make it her fault ‘cause shit went sideways.”

shane’s face twisted in anger, and he took a step forward, pointing an accusing finger at daryl. “you think you’re some kinda hero now, huh? stickin’ up for her ‘cause she’s cryin’? she’s a damn liability, and you know it. coulda gotten us all killed out there!”

“bullshit,” daryl snapped, his voice rising as he moved closer to shane, not backing down an inch. “we all took risks, and it coulda happened to any of us. but you don’t get to stand here and blame her just ‘cause you’re pissed. now, get the hell back.”

shane’s gaze flickered between you and daryl, and for a second, it looked like he might actually swing at him. but something in daryl’s stance, the unflinching intensity in his eyes, seemed to give shane pause. he took a step back, though his expression stayed hard. “whatever,” he muttered, turning away and spitting on the ground. “just don’t come cryin’ to me when she screws up again.”

as shane stalked off, daryl turned back to you, his expression softening as he saw the tears still on your cheeks. “you alright?” he asked, his voice gentler now, but the tension in his jaw remained, his hand twitching like he was fighting the urge to go after shane again.

you nodded, but a fresh wave of tears escaped, and you quickly wiped them away with the back of your hand. “i’m fine,” you whispered, though your voice was shaky. “just didn’t expect him to… i don’t know, freak out like that.”

“ain’t your fault,” daryl said firmly, his voice steady as he took a step closer. “he’s just lookin’ for someone to blame ‘cause he’s got his own shit he don’t wanna deal with.” his gaze flicked over your face, taking in the redness around your eyes, the way you were still trembling slightly. “c’mon,” he murmured, his hand reaching out to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your collarbone in a comforting gesture. “let’s get outta here. ain’t no point stickin’ around when he’s all riled up.”

you nodded again, still processing the fact that daryl had jumped to your defense so quickly, so fiercely. “thanks,” you said, your voice small as you glanced up at him. “for stepping in like that. you didn’t have to.”

he grunted, his gaze flicking away like he was uncomfortable with the gratitude. “didn’t do it for you to thank me,” he mumbled, his hand slipping from your shoulder as he turned to lead you away. “just don’t like seein’ him treatin’ you like that.”

his protectiveness left a warm, confusing feeling in your chest. it wasn’t often daryl showed that side of himself - he usually kept his emotions locked down tight, rarely letting anyone get a glimpse of what was going on behind those stormy eyes. but in that moment, he’d been so unwavering, like there was no question that he would put himself between you and shane’s anger.

“still,” you murmured as you fell into step beside him, “it means a lot. i don’t know what i would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.”

he huffed, a faint smirk pulling at his lips. “woulda been just fine,” he said, glancing over at you. “you’re tougher than you think.”

“well, guess you’re my knight in shining armor now,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

daryl shook his head with a gruff chuckle. “don’t start with that shit,” he grumbled, but the small, rare smile on his lips took the edge off his words. “just lookin’ out for ya, that’s all.”

“well, whatever the reason, i’m glad you did,” you replied, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “because i sure wasn’t winning that argument.”

he glanced down at your hand on his arm, then back up to meet your gaze. “don’t worry ‘bout him,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. “he’ll get over it. and if he don’t, i’ll make sure he does.”

the quiet promise in his words sent a shiver down your spine, but not from fear. it was a different kind of feeling entirely, a mix of gratitude and something deeper, something you hadn’t quite let yourself acknowledge before now.

as you continued walking together, you realized that shane’s words, harsh as they’d been, were fading into the background. all that mattered was the man beside you. the one who had stood up for you without hesitation, who had shown you a side of himself you hadn’t expected but were grateful for all the same.

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[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

A Village Raising (1) | Yandere Platonic Twisted Wonderland

“(Y/n) do you know why I called you in here today?”

“...no.”

You knew why you were here that’s why you wouldn’t look up from your sparkly loafers Vil had gifted you. You knew after that look Deuce gave you when Grim told him your secret that you’d get in trouble. 

Crowley rubbed at his chin in frustration, debating if he should summon the entire staff for a manner such as this. Or perhaps enlist the assistance of the fae in Diasomnia but that came with its own problems. Particularly the problem of their recurring petition for guardianship; saying that they were more fit guardians for you. 

“(Y/n), do you remember the fire faeries that keep the school warm in the winter?”

A smile spread on your face as you recalled giving the sticks to the warm faeries.

“Mmmmh!”

“Well there are many other types of faeries that like to live near the school. Like forest faeries, water faeries…princess faeries.”

He watched as your chubby hands wrung together behind your back. Rocking on your feet while looking side to side.

“...Yeah?”

“Yes. And did you know that the faeries will get really upset if their princess is stolen?”

An obviously guilty pout made its way to your face as you sucked on the inside of your cheek. 

“...I didn’t know that…”

“Yes…they cry and then they’ll start attacking students…so if you do see the princess fairy you’ll bring her to me first okay?”

“...But shouldn’t I give her to the faeries? Why you?”

“Just bring her to me, okay (Y/n)?”

“O-okay.”

“You can leave now.”

He cringed at your immediate departure, not oblivious to the hug he would have usually gotten. Resigning to sadly watch as you trotting out of the office on little legs to your monster companion. 

“That kid’s going to be the death of me.”

___________________________________________

“So how’d it go mini-henchman?”

You crossed your arms and puffed your cheeks.

“Horrible! And it's all your fault!”

“Nyeh?! How’s it my fault that you’re keeping-”

Grim was stopped by your pudgy hands on his snout as you looked suspiciously around the courtyard.

“Shhhh don’t tell anyone else! Meeeek!” 

You pulled your hand away wiping the slobber on your uniform as the monster cat stepped away. Pouting with his head away from you, he flicked his tail disapprovingly.

“Nyah! Release me!”

Glaring at him, you turned your head away as you marched to Ramshackle. Grim let his eye follow you before scampering to meet your steps, looking apologetic as you continued to ignore him. 

“Y-you’re not going to keep it are you?”

Continuing to ignore him you dramatically turned your head away, blindly walking until you bumped into somebody’s legs. Wobbling a little a pair of hands kept you steady to look up at your obstacle. Towering and, for many, intimidating was Malleus Draconia or to you and Yuuka: 

“Tsuno-taro?”

“Horns? Here? In the daytime? That’s awfully weird for you.”

“Hello, little one. For your information, Grim, I do exist outside of the night. I am no vampire.”

“Nyeh!? Coulda fooled me.”

“Tsuno-taro!  You have to let me go I have something to do!” 

Emerald eyes glinted with amusement as he lifted you up into his embrace. 

“Oh, you do now?”

“Yes. So you have to let me go.”

“How about I walk you there, I doubt you’ll feel comfortable walking in those.”

“Mmmm okay.” 

Leaning into his hold you relaxed against his shoulder, yawning as quietly as you could. Noticing, the dragon couldn’t help chuckling to himself.

“Are you perhaps tired little one?”

Snapping up you gave him a stern look, scrunching your face up. 

“No.”

“No? Not even a little bit?”

“Not even a little bit!”

“Ah, I see. Then it won’t mean anything if I–”

The prince brought a finger up to the bridge of your little nose bringing it down slowly, repeating the action a few times. Entranced by the way you leaned into his touch and closed your eyes in tandem, he fought the urge to keep tease you more. He only stopped when your hands swatted at him and slapped your own cheeks.

“No! No! I am’nt tired!”

Malleus let out a rumbling laugh which had you puffing your cheeks once more. 

“I am not. If I was tired I wouldn’t be going to play right now.”

“You are? What will you play?”

“It’s w-ah uh a secret! Yeah, it's a secret so I can’t tell you.”

“Oh?”

“Nope. So don’t bother asking me! Oh or uh-Grim either.”

The monster snorted running ahead to no doubt raid the fridge while Yuu was distracted with their guest. Malleus on the other hand was reluctantly setting you down, further intrigued by this secret of yours.

“Are you sure this secret is safe to play with all by yourself?” 

“Yup! I promised Yuu I wouldn’t interrupt your date this time.”

“Date? I was under the impression this was just ‘a hang out’.” You gave a sly smile as you put your hand on your hips. 

“Mmmh-mmmh that’s what you say now. But on the wedding day, I’ll say this is it.” 

Without another word you skipped into the forest, giggling to yourself as you imagined how cool you’d look on their wedding day. Malleus watched you leave turning to Yuu who was wrestling the cat-monster near the open door. 

“Be back before dinner!”

“Okay!” 

Malleus turned sending another glance over his shoulder. Perhaps you’d need someone to watch over you. Someone so innocent and small couldn’t possibly be expected not to attract unwanted attention. 

___________________________________________

 An orange hue decorated the leaves around you as you crawled into your special place. Going deeper into the dark cave you went into the darkness knowing full-well of the light emitted at the end of it.

“Hello, Sparkle-Fairy!” 

Just as you left her the princess fairy you had dubbed Sparkle-fairy was reclining on the makeshift abode you had made. With only the clear glass bowl you borrowed from Trey completing your ensemble. 

You kneeled down, scooting close as rested your head on your arms no doubt caked with mud and dirt. You tilted your head watching as the fairy did the same before turning away from you. Crowley’s words rang in your head and you did what Yuu had told you to do when you messed up. 

“I sorry for keeping you like this…” The fairy perked up. “I just wanted to be friends.”

You removed the glass from around the makeshift enclosure expecting to see the glowing creature fly right away. But instead, the fairy hovered moving closer to your face. The tinkling sound of the fairy’s native tongue rang in your ears, keeping your attention from the other tinkling voices entering the cave. 

“I don’t know what you’re saying…but I’d love to see your home!”

The princess fairy twinkled happily before blowing a glittery dust in your face. You sneezed and rubbed your nose before involuntarily yawning again. 

Of course with as small and as young as you are it’d take a small amount of fairy dust to put you to sleep. Making you perfectly pliable for what the fairies planned to do. Already snoozing, the fairies would have no trouble carrying off on their princess’ orders. That is if it weren’t for Malleus’ trusted guardian. 

“Now now where are you running off to with our little pup?”

Meat Cleaver in hand the retired general was smiling without reaching his eyes. He hoped that with his weapon unsheathed the fairies would have released you in an instant but it seems the princess was insistent on taking you. Who could blame them? A kiddie as sweet as you would have been a lovely find but he wouldn’t let his pup be taken from him.

Some chopped wings should be a good warning. 

He did just that and they settled you on the ground before his feet, twinkling apologizes all the while. In an instant, they were on their way carrying their injured companion along with them. Lilia smiled at your sleeping form cradling you despite your dirt-covered state, he couldn’t help but smirk at the distant glow of green. 

Young fae nowadays don’t seem to know not to mess with a dragon’s treasure. Let alone Night Raven’s as a whole.

“Yahoo, guess who fell fast asleep while making mud pies?”

“Aww thank goodness. It got so dark out I was so worried if it weren’t for you guys—”

“All in a day's work, prefect.”

“Yes, it was no trouble.”

Ah, Malleus has returned. And so soon. He figured he must have been merciful. Or maybe unusually giving.

_______________________________________

“So these are the fairies who tried to take them?”

“Master Malleus said so! You dare doubt him?!”

“Of course not I just figured the lizard would be so worked up he wouldn’t leave any for the rest of us.”

“You were lucky his mood has been immaculate since he’s fulfilling an invitation from the Ramshackle Prefect.”

“Whatever. Now should we pluck their wings or break their legs.”

“Only this once I’ll be following your lead.”

“Hmm alright then, Eyebrows. Let’s get to work.”

[brbzonedout]

-Movie Night

Pairing: E!42 Miles x Spider-person!reader

Warnings: Protectiveness…if that triggers you.

Outside of Miles’s window the streets buzzed with noise, from cars honking their horns to people yelling for their kids to come inside.

It was late at night as usual and Miles was sitting at his desk listening to music as he sketched out ideas for a creative writing paper that he couldn’t visualize properly.

knock knock…

That was unexpected.

Miles turned toward his bedroom window to see you standing out there with a excited smile. The boy smirked subconsciously wondering what you were doing here this late, especially without texting him first.

He opened the window and helping you crawl through.

“Don’t worry your mom knows i’m here,” you said landing on the hard wood floor of his bedroom.

“ho-”

“I texted her..anyways look!” you lifted your phone to his face showing him the disney plus app.

Miles squinted his eyes shielding them from the phones aggressive brightness, “What am I looking at?” he stifled a laugh.

You turned the phone back to your view, eye brows furrowed, “Are we not looking at the same thing? Little mermaid is on disney plus now so we can watch it!”

“You ran all the way here just to watch The little mermaid?”

The boy closed the window behind you and took your jacket off your back to hang in his closet.

“With you…” you stated with a smile kicking off your shoes.

With a sound understanding he turned back around to face you, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I coulda gotten snacks and shit.” the question came with a concern glare.

“Number one…” You held up a book bag full of both your favorite snacks.

“And two you wouldn’t have let me walk over here myself,” you grumbled, sounding slightly annoyed, seated on his edge of his bed in your hello kitty pajama pants. “then I would’ve had to wait for you to get me…then walk here….then have you walk me back home, then wait for you to get back home and you like to take stops so-”

He rolled his eyes and joined you on the bed. “Well yeah ima walk wit you, you know where we live right?”

“You realize i’m the Spinner right?” said in a whisper, matter of factly.

Miles sighed not wanting to have this conversation for the 3rd time this month. “Yeah ok y/n…lemme see the bag….please.”

You snorted getting ready to chew the boy out for his lack of manners, “I was bout to say- here.” after digging into the bag you handed over a platter of caribbean food from the place down the block.

“Wha- this is food food…”

“I may have also stopped at Mrs. Kiyana’s shop…allegedly.”

Miles stifled a laugh and took the platter. As he opened it he noticed you got everything exactly the way he liked it, jerk chicken with Jamaican cabbage, and plantains.

He held back a smile, “Thank you..” said in a soft whisper like tone as he reached his hand into the platter.

“Of course,” you reached back in the bag pulling out two forks. “I know you not about to eat that with your hands-”

The boy stopped in his tracks and awkwardly took one of them out of your hand. “Right, my bad..”

I might make a part two to this one as well. BUT I KIND OF LIKE THE WAY THIS CAME OUT!! YAY! Anyways thank you for reading<3

©brbzonedout

[alieinthemorning]

How’s It Hanging, Beautiful? [Ace Trappola]

Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Remaster of: “You’re so beautiful.” | Ace Trappola [400 Follower Event]

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Ace wouldn’t say that he wasn’t a morning person, but instead a deep sleeper. Usually, it’d take a lot to rouse him from sleep. However, there was one thing that could always get him up, no matter what. 

And that was the smell of Sunday morning breakfast. 

Saliva was pooled in his mouth before he even opened his eyes. He swallowed it as the rest of his body followed the lead of his taste buds. He stretched (carefully, he didn’t want to get a cramp), letting out a satisfying groan. Then he sat up, eyes finally opening to the dimly lit room. 

You were not there beside him or lingering in the room, but that made sense since you had to be the one cooking. What was odd was that Grim was nowhere to be found, but maybe today was his lucky day, and you’d give him some extras (when would he learn that he’d only get anything if he’d actually help). Shaking his head, he grabbed his phone, and headed for the bathroom. 

After fixing his rough bed head and rinsing his mouth out, Ace made his way downstairs to join you and Grim in the kitchen. You must have gotten up earlier than usual today because breakfast was almost done.

“Come on! Lemme just have a little—” Grim’s paw was reaching toward the bowl of strawberries, but you quickly swatted it. 

“Let it alone. Go take your seat.” You didn’t even bat an eye.

Grim huffed, hopped off the stool, and retreating to the dining room. 

Ace didn’t bother with teasing him, and instead honed in on you. 

“Morning.” His arms wrapped around your waist. 

You turned in his arms, “Morning, sleeping beauty.” You pecked the underside of his chin. 

He returned your kiss with one on your forehead. “You coulda woke me up, you know…” 

“Yeah, but I like watching you drool.” 

Ace pulled back, “I do not drool.” 

You simply smiled as you picked up the plate of pancakes. “Time to set the the table.” 

Sundays were lazy days, most of the time the three of you would just stay huddled up in bed all day after breakfast. Today was no different, except for Grim leaving to follow the sun (he was an expert sunbather, after all).  

Ace was a deep sleeper, but for some reason something pulled him from his sleep. And he was forever thankful for it. 

You were turned toward him (you were facing away from him when you fell asleep, you’re such a wild sleeper), mouth slightly open (no drool, damn it), lashing gently resting against dark circles. His thumb brushed against your lower lid. He should talk to Crowley about lessening your load. 

“How’s it hanging, beautiful?” 

Ace jolted, not expecting you to speak, let alone be awake. 

But then he smiled, “Not much, what’s going on with you, beautiful?”

“Just admiring you.”

“Crazy, me too.” 

You both laughed at yourselves,

and the beauty of your relationship.

Happy Birthday, Ace!

And now that I've said that, time for a serious end note lol

Sooooooo on the 9/1/24, I had emergency gallbladder surgery! And now I'm having an emergency hysterectomy (Tomorrow lol)! Originally, my appointment was in November, but after another trip to the ER they finally realized that bleeding for 6 months straight actually isn't normal, and something should be done about it!

So, yeah, I'm gonna be out of commission (again)! Which, I've barely been posting anyway, but I've also been in excruciating pain for the past six months, sooo yeah!

I'll see yeah when I see y'all!

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

[mrsshabana]

“𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮?"

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟐: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Your village is attacked by a man-eating demon, killing everyone in his path. And unfortunately for you, your marechi blood attracts his attention. But instead of killing you, he has other ideas. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, violence, blood, oral sex, reader is on her period. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.2k words

✧:･ﾟ→ Kinktober Masterlist

Gyutaro had spent the evening taking out his frustration on a small village not too far from the district. Having gotten into an argument with his sister earlier, he was in a sour mood and needed to destress. And what better way than to completely decimate a village of humans.

He had almost killed everything in sight when he smelt it. The smell of blood. There was blood all around him, but this blood was different. It was special. 

“There’s a marechi here…” 

His lips curl into a devious grin as he identifies the scent, immediately following it to the source. Marechi are no easy thing to come by, so Gyutaro counts himself quite lucky to have stumbled upon one. 

The delicious scent leads him to your huddled form. Hiding behind the rubble of a destroyed building. 

Your heart drops when you see him. The demon that killed everyone in your village is here to finish you off. You’re so afraid that you can’t even manage to speak, all you can do is let out pathetic whimpers as tears flood your vision. 

He creeps towards you, enjoying the fearful look in your eyes. But he suddenly stops, glaring down at you with a raised brow. 

“Where’s all the blood?” he thinks to himself. The scent of marechi blood is so strong, yet you don’t appear to be bleeding. A few bruises here and there but no cuts are visible from what he can see. 

With a frown, Gyutaro crouches beside you and looks you up and down. His eyes trail down before a smirk creeps onto his face. Now he understands. 

“Human,” he rasps, “what’s your name?”

His question catches you completely off guard. You aren’t sure if you’re more shocked that he bothered to ask for your name, or the fact that he hasn’t killed you yet. 

“My-my n-name is Y/N,” you say through hiccups and sobs. 

“Y/N? How cute…” he grins and grabs your face, “I’m Gyutaro.” His grip on your face tightens as he leans in closer to you, his breath reeks of blood. “Today’s your lucky day, I’m not going to kill you. So you can stop that pathetic crying now.”

“Wh-what? You’re sparing me?!” your eyes widen and you can’t help but smile knowing that your life won’t be ended tonight. “Th-thank you! Thank you so much!”

“You’re going to be my personal blood bank.”

Your smile immediately disappears, “B-blood bank?”

“Yeah,” he draws out the word, moving his body on top of you - caging you beneath him. “You see, you’re real special. Your blood is valuable to demons like me, makes us stronger,” he growls, “I coulda just killed you now and devoured every last drop. But I’d be able to get more outta you if I just drank from you every month…”

“Drink from me every month?” your face suddenly feels hot, “L-like my…”

“Your period, doll,” he smirks and licks his lips, “You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you? Or do I have to force you to open those pretty legs for me?”

A combination of terror and embarrassment washes over you. All of the things he is saying to you are so foreign, but you don’t have any other choice than to agree. Even though you really don’t want him to touch you like that, is it really worth dying over? After seeing so many people get brutally killed by him you’ll do anything to not suffer the same fate. 

“Ok,” you nod, “You can… d-drink my blood.” Your voice shakes as you slowly open your legs. 

“Good girl,” he coos - lowering himself down to your core and placing a hand on your thigh. He wastes no time lifting your skirt and tearing your panties off of you before tossing them aside. Your soaked pussy exposed to his hungry gaze. You’re so ashamed right now. Having grown up being taught that your menstruation was something to hide, especially around men, it’s hard for you to expose yourself like this to him. But he isn’t phased by it at all. And he most certainly isn’t disgusted. Just looking at the blood between your legs makes his stomach growl and his cock grow hard.

“So pretty,” he mumbles as he inches closer. So close that you can feel his warm breath hitting you while his hands have a firm grip on your thighs. 

Gyutaro can already see the blood coating your lips and it’s driving him crazy. He has to taste you.

He moves his face closer and licks your folds. When the taste hits his lips he can’t help but groan, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. It’s been so long since he’s had marechi blood, it’s taking all of his willpower to not devour you right now. 

“Taste so good,” he goes in for another taste. Eagerly lapping his tongue between your folds and along your slit. 

“Ah!” You gasp as he continues feasting on you. Right now you feel so sensitive, so his actions feel even more pleasurable. So much so that your fear gets pushed aside and you completely submit to him. Moaning beneath him as he has his fill. 

His cock twitches in his pants as he eats you out. The heavenly combination of your pretty pussy and the taste of your sweet blood sends him to cloud nine. Not only is your blood the tastiest he’s ever had, but you’re also one of the most stunningly beautiful women he’s ever seen. He can’t help but slowly rock his hips into the ground as he eats you out. Not able to tear himself away from your addicting taste, but also seeking any friction he can get. 

He wants to fuck you so badly, but he knows he’ll have time for that later. Besides, you’re going to be his little human pet after this. Your taste is so addicting that it’s able to distract him from the aching in his cock for the time being. 

Once he’s licked you clean he delves his tongue inside of you, eager for more. His tongue is not like any you’ve seen before, it’s long and thick. Able to reach spots inside of you that even your fingers have never touched. 

Continuously he burrows his tongue inside of you, then slides it back into his mouth to consume every drop you have to offer him. He quickly loses control, eating you like an animal. 

And his ministrations leave you squirming and moaning in pleasure. When he slides his tongue into you again and feels your walls tighten around him, he moves his thumb over your clit and starts rubbing tight circles. 

“That’s it, be a good girl and gimme more.”

His tongue and his fingers become too much for you, and quickly push you over the edge. Your orgasm hits you harder than ever before. Toes curling, back arching, and nails digging into the dirt. “Ahhh~ Gyu-Gyutaro!!” You yelp as your body shakes beneath him.

He holds your thighs still and continues to slurp away at your sweet nectar. Your orgasm causing more to flow onto his tongue. 

“So makin’ you cum makes you bleed more?” he grins, showing off his blood covered fangs. “Then we’re gonna be busy all night.”

[chaosandmarigolds]

cztery 🤍 of EMS Au thingy!! (I seriously need a name)

summary: Simon Riley is finding himself utterly in love with the newest paramedic on base, unfortunately he had the social skills of a five year old. fem reader!

Mary pats your shoulder as you stand in the briefing room, sure you had to give speeches and pathetic ice breaker introductions but this felt so…odd. Wearing what you assumed would be your new uniform, your home country patch on your arm along with the Star of Life proudly above it. Your blue EMS pants traded in for black tactical pants- not all that different, but much heavier. Beside you Mary stood, wearing a set of scrubs that looked oh so comfortable.

“And that’s Captain Price, he…well they’re all your boss but you can boss them around- it’s great.” She whispered in your ear with a little laugh.

The meeting you had with the Captain had been brief, short but you assumed he was kind. However that may be a flaw within yourself, as you always thought everyone was kind until proven not. So you nods, “Is he kind?”

Mary shrugs, “As long he’s gotten his cup of joe and a cigar.”

“that’s awful for him.”

“You can fight him if you want, waste of time and breath though-“ her words faltered off as he motioned for you to come forward and she gives you a little shove.

Your steps were calculated, slow, the boots they had given you were a half a size big and they weighed about the same as your EMS ones- as they were military grade, however at the least those fit. The reason you chose this profession is that you didn’t freeze, you didn’t get scared, but in that moment you felt everything in your crawling. By the time you were able to adjust you were already up front and apparently the captain had already given his whole spew on how amazing of a medic you were, all eyes were on you.

His eyes were on you.

And what the fuck was he-

if your face blinking suddenly to the man who rightfully looked terrifying wasn’t a good message that you were confused, you’re stammered response to the captain asking if you had anything to say would. “Uh, yeah, um, l-like,” you couldn’t tare your eyes away, it was like a weeping angel, look away and it would ruin you, however with a shuddered breath you go on, “like the captain said, I’ve been in this profession since I was 18 and I am immensely grateful for the opportunity to aid you.” —

Mary spun around in the chair, looking over the charts, watching you as you laid face down on one of the cots. “Gonna suffocate, Stitch.”

With a sniffle you turn your face to look at Mary, “I made a fool of myself, I ought to suffocate- death is kinder.”

“ought?” Mary laughs and then stands, grabbing your wrists to stand, “Jesus go back to bridgerton you drama queen, cmon, up she goes.”

A snarky remark was on the tip of your tongue when the door opened, the commotion of the hangar was hidden behind the steel doors, so as they opened the roaring noise came inside, and only for a moment behind they slid back shut. However you wished they hadn’t opened in the first place, because there stood the monstrous thing that caused your humiliation. Black gear, towering above any normal human and there sat on his face was a skull mask, as if it were some holiday.

Mary, however, seemed unfazed, “Jesus Christ, knock first! We coulda been indecent.”

The thing made a grunting noise in response walking forward and lightly nudging her to the side until it was just you and him, he was human. You assumed. As he did have eyes, eyes that looked like they were tearing you apart.

“Didn’t have the chance to have a proper meeting, Lieutenant Simon Riley,” he took your hand, forcibly at that- as you as it squeezing your wrist (bad habit, you would check your pulse when stressed), “At your service.”

If you could see Mary’s face it would be utterly flabbergasted and shock.

“Lieutenant….Riley?” You echo the name again, not bothering to pull your hand away because A- you didn’t think he would let you. That thing was the awkward man you had picked up last night? “Oh! I am so sorry, I um…” you let out a breath, “I didn’t recognize-“

“ T’s normal. Have a Good day.” Just as quickly as he left he had spun on his heel and left, leaving you standing perfectly still and Mary in some shock.

She lets out a laugh and looks to you, “Maybe we are in Bridgerton.”

You give her a look, a frown evident on your face.

(annnd that’s it :) )

[rhinestonz]

☆ CAN WE GO HOME ? ☆

Honestly you barely understood that you were in this position. What did you do ? Well it wasn’t what you did, it was what others did. Or maybe , according to Gojo it was your fault for being so damn hot.

Bully!Satosugu x poc!reader. Double penetration. Dirty talk. Degradation. Overstim. Humiliation (?). Recording. 

You’d gotten used to these two tagging along with you anywhere. Just to make sure you weren’t acknowledging anyone other than them. You went to the mall today, your favorite place on earth maybe. At Least they played some purpose, holding your abundance of bags. You knew how they rolled, terrorizing anyone to even look your way, belittling your feelings towards anyone other than them. You knew how they rolled… and they definitely knew how you did.

A fucking attention whore, that’s what you were. I mean why would you wear pink miniskirts that barely covered anything. Or low cut tops ,and over cropped crop tops. Why would you wear anything that showed off that gorgeous body of yours to anyone other than them. It pissed them off , the way you shamelessly flirted with the store clerks as though they weren’t there. The way you bent over in front of everyone to check the price tag on some shoes. How much more of a slut could you be? 

You plopped down in the back of the car after checking your makeup in your compact mirror. Geto and Gojo packing your things in the truck before getting in the front seats. “ so you wanna fucking explain yourself? “ geto cursed , scowling at you through the rear view mirror. You popped your lips together , spreading your coating of pink gloss. “ Whatever do you mean ?” You exaggerated faux innocence. You saw the two tense up at your words. You were used to pissing them off, you loved to do so to get back at them fir how they tormented you in daily life. All it would amount to would be getting fucked when you got home… yeah not this time. 

 “ C-cmon, m’ sorry , just let me go home~' ' you pleaded. Your cheek rested against the leather of the seat. Geto’s nose runs along your pink folds. Face buried in your cunt from behind. His tongue overstimulating you beyond belief. Gojo sat in front of you. Dick slapping against your cheeks as a way to get your eyes to look into his phone camera. “Cmon~ smile“ he said, motioning his fingers to push his cheeks up. This fucking bastard. “ You wanna look pretty for the guys I show this to right ?“. Tears fell from your stinging eyes, “ n-no please ~ don’t… show anyone~” you managed to choke out between moans as Geto’s tongue explored every grove of your pussy. Your eyes rolled at the camera , tongue lolling out of your mouth releasing strings if drool. “ aww why not baby ? We might have to show it to the next loser you flirt with” Gojo teased, hands grabbing a fistful of your hair. 

Your ass stained red from Satoru’s relentless thrusts. Your eyes puffy , tears falling as they fell onto Geto’s cock. Maybe you did go too far today , he’d usually wipe them as you cried but not this time. He looked down on you with a smile as he pushed your head down, making your nose touch his v-line. “ awww~ too much baby?” he coed at you. You heard a low laugh from Satoru, “You think the store clerk coulda fucked tears outta ya?” He asked, slapping your ass , watching the fat if it ripple. Your whines resounded through the car  as well as small sobs when Satoru rubbed his finger along your clit. You cried, shaking your head no on Geto’s cock. “oh no but you must have thought he was better! , wouldn’t have acted like we don’t fuck your brains out every night infront if him then , slut” Satoru sassed as he watched you writhe around as he placed frequent harsh slaps to your clit . 

Just when you thought it was too much. It got worse. Your body was flipped around. Back flush against Geto. His hands around your wrist, holding your arms back. “ Are we not enough, baby ? We can give you more you know” he feigned concern. You let out a strained moan as you felt his cock ease into your cunt. But then you relaxed why he was holding you back. Your eyes widened as Satoru spread your legs, rough hands gripping your thighs apart. “ Wait,wait no~ no ~ Toru , Sugu-!'' your plea was cut by a shrill moan as your cunt was stretched to the brim. Two cocks filling up the small pink hole. Your tears ran from your eyes like droplets of rain on windows.  “Fuckkkkk~ that's enough for ya baby~” Gojo hissed out as he bottomed out. Your mouth hung open , strained moans spilling from your mouth. Your face burned in embarrassment as people walked by the windows. You knew the windows were tinted but Gosh did it make your face sting to know that a thin sheet of tint was stopping people from seeing how absolutely fucked you were. Two cocks showing in you at once. Geto kissing your cervix as Gojo pulled back for another harsh thrust. They work so fucking well together.

“ Fucking slut~ you thought we’d wait till we got home to put you in your place? ” Geto spat at you. His breath heavy as he thrusted up into you. You did think they’d wait, maybe that’s why you weren’t prepared. Or maybe it was the fact that your cunt was painfully full. Stretched out to fit both of their lengths. Tears fell from your eyes as you came. Squirting everywhere. Almost disgusted as some of the liquid landed on your face. Even more embarrassed as Gojo licked some of the fluid off of his face.  “F-fuc, you guys, cmon can we go home~?” you whimpered out, you’d been insisting this the whole time. Suddenly becoming aware that people could hear your pathetic moans and the sound of them smashing into you. Your arms strained against Geto’s grip. reaching to turn on the stereo to drown out your cries , however you couldn’t pull away from him.” Nah let em’ hear you baby ~!” he teased, chuckling as your body began to convulse. Your tummy caving in as your legs shook violently. Feet arching in the air. A scream ripped from your glossed lips that pierced the sound of their pounding. 

Your body went limp, chest heaving up and down. A small whine left you as Satoru’s dick pushed deeper against your cervix as he put his weight on you. Arms wrapping around you and Geto. The car filled with the sounds of your collective pants.  “Fuckk..” you huffed out, “ .. can we go home now?” You sighed. They chuckled as they kissed you. “ Yeah , maybe the store clerk will take you home,” Geto sassed. Somehow you felt a lil guilty now.“ M’ sorrryyyy, I don’t like him ,only want you guys~' ' You pouted. “ yeah we know '' they yawned , pulling away to cleft themselves before driving off. 

[1-800-be-my-baby]

How do you think jj and Routledge!reader would get together?

i feel like jj would just be such a perv and constantly tease reader to the point where she eventually begins to crave it, getting jealous when she sees him with another girl.

the air is warm, doing nothing to help with the sheen layer of sweat glistening against your skin. you were past tipsy at this point, the bonfire in full swing.

you hear a low wolf whistle come from behind you. you roll your eyes, immediately knowing who it came from. you turn around coming face to face with no other than jj maybank.

“you know for someone acts like he’s alllll that, you’re actually just a pussy” the liquid courage running through your veins has you saying things that would cause sober you to drop dead on the scene.

“now w’dya mean by that princess?” jj places a hand over his heart, a faux look of heartbreak dancing across his features.

“nothin, just thought you would’ve gotten bored of just being a perv and would’ve made a move by now but i guess not.” you cross your arms, silently challenging him.

“if ya wanted me so bad you coulda just said so mama” you let out a laugh at his cockiness.

“whatever. later maybank.” you sing out, turning around, attempting to walk away.

“uh uh.” he wraps his arm around your wrist. “not so fast sugar. i believe there’s something m’ supposed to do.” before you can mutter out a response his lips are on yours. you guys were inseparable ever since then. except for when he went into hiding after johnb found out.

[boop-le-snoot]

rickyl x reader blurb for @sinsandsweetness

cw: facesitting, human disaster rick grimes, teasing. 18+

without further ado,

Daryl's groan echoes throughout his room in the basement and bounces off the bare walls. The next noise is identical, but muffled. The fabric of her skirt rustles as he pushes it out of the way, tucking it sloppily into the waistband of her underwear- those, he doesn't bother removing. Just pushes the damp gusset to the side, fingers twitching from the hiss she releases as cool air meets the flushed lips of her cunt.

He doesn't waste precious seconds, just dives in. Nose smushed into the short tuft of her pubic hair, mouth enveloping both of her fat outer lips, nursing the essence off her like he would be sucking at the flesh of an overripe peach. Daryl hates those things - he's from Georgia, for fuck's sake, where everything is fucking peach flavoured - but she is just so sweet, so soft and sticky, he has problems with keeping his mouth off her most days. The meat of her ass plump under his rough palms.

He pushes at it, dragging her inner labia and clit along the seam of his mouth and she keens. The field of view is narrow - he can just about see the folded fabric of her top and the mounds of her heaving breasts, nipples poking through the cotton - but he can imagine. Her head thrown back, her bottom lip between her teeth. They've got the mostest privacy in the apocalypse in his basement but she is still so conscious of the noises she makes.

The noises he makes her make. Daryl flattens his tongue against her hard nub, flicking it with intent and precision. He wants, no, he needs to hear what she has been forced to hold back. His grip on her hips is bruising but it only eggs her on; experimentally, she rolls her hips over his mouth. Once, twice... he isn't sure who makes the low humming noise. Coulda be both of them, feeding off each other's desire.

“Baby, fuck, don't stop,” she pants through shallow breaths, the roll of her hips becoming a purposeful grind.

Daryl feels her skin protest to the drag of his coarse stubble. He'd gotten back from a long run just yesterday, had barely enough energy to rinse off the blood and grime and scarf down whatever stew that she had made with the Grimes' kids before he crashed down, hard. He is fully intent on making up for it, starting now.

Her hips stutter above him as more weight presses down on his chin; sticky cunt juice is pooling deep in his throat. He's drinking her straight from the source, swallowing her cunt with eager, too eager, gulps. If it sticks to the roof of his mouth, he'll suck it off his teeth just fine later. She grinds on him and he growls straight into her cunt, wraps his lips around her clit and sucks. Sweat gathers under his palms and in the spaces between her cunt and legs.

Her face must be flushed. Sweat dripping from her hair, clear droplets running down her face that he would stick out his tongue and lick, like a parched dog, whenever he gets to fuck her. The thought of her snug cunt enveloping his aching cock makes it pitifully twitch and release a dribble of precum into his boxers.

She's close. Daryl knows it because that's just who he is. Attentive, a hunter, a tracker. He tracks her upcoming release through the fluttering of the entrance to her cunt, through the pulsing blood rushing to her clit. The nub is hard in his mouth, he flicks it easily and with abandon. His neglected cock twitches in sympathy.

Suddenly, there is a creak. There are footsteps, wide, unhurried. Daryl knows those footsteps, is deeply familiar with them, and their sudden presence makes him pause. Somewhat stupidly - his nose is brushing her clit with every single inhale as quiet tremors run through her body. Made that much more obvious by how still he'd gotten under her.

“Listen, Dar-” Rick ends his speech as soon as it begins.

She shuffles in place, leaning on the back of the couch. From Rick's position near the entrance, she knows Rick can't see Daryl face-deep in her cunt. Rick can't see anything at all in the near-darkness, just her still-clothed chest and her stiff nipples.

“Where's Daryl?” Rick, while frowning, seems incredulous.

A silent chuff wafts over her cunt; Daryl's exasperation makes out in the form of a muted chuckle.

“Busy,” she replies without thinking, aware of the hoarseness of her own voice.

“Well I need 'em for a thing,” Rick shrugs and looks around again, as if Daryl would suddenly appear from one of the dark corners in the single, wide room. No luck for Rick, though: the object of his inquiry stays still and doesn't even try to hide his smile as he presses his wet mouth into the inside of her thigh.

She frowns. “Is it urgent?”

“Sorta,” Rick begins to eye her with suspicion. The cogs are turning in his head but the picture doesn't seem to be adding up. It is comical to see his eyebrows draw tight over his eyes. “So where is he?”

Before she has the chance to react, Daryl's strong hands make quick work of dragging her down his chest. He sits up, just enough to poke his head from behind the couch, his face shining wet even in the settling twilight. There is a wet spot lower now, too, on his stomach, where he so ungracefully dragged her sensitive cunt.

Rick's eyes bulge.

“Wha?” Daryl makes an attempt to wipe his mouth and unstick some of the unruly bangs from the mess but it just ends up making him look even more fucked. “Wha's so urgent dat ya had ta barge in here like dat?”

“Uh,” Rick replies eloquently, eyes stuck to the sheen on Daryl's face. Unconsciously, the sheriff licks his lips, and immediately looks away. “S'nothin', it can wait,” he finally says, yet makes no moves to leave.

She snorts. Quietly, under her breath, but the two men are just that good. Both are looking at her now, one embarrassed, one incredulous.

“Well then go or join in, I was just about to cum,” she rolls her eyes, letting the annoyance bubble up and pop on the surface. She was close, until someone so rudely interrupted her beeline for pleasure. She didn't push down and get on Daryl's face for nothin', after all.

It's Daryl's turn to snort. He does so as he's laying back down and adjusting his grip on her hips, ready to pull her back in. “Naw, Rick ain't like dat. He's ol-fashioned,” and it's just friendly banter, all bark and no bite in Daryl's voice, but Rick begins to walk before Daryl's even through with it. In his defense, Daryl seems only mildly perplexed.

Mostly, he's amused. And then his expression is obscured by her body as he drags her cunt back up to his face and begins slurping. Noisily. On fucking purpose.

“Oh,” she gasps, at nothing in particular. At the feel of Daryl's wet hot tongue gathering what's left of her arousal. At Rick's red lips tilting into a haughty smirk. At Rick's finger dragging along her lips.

His hands taste of motor oil, metal and gunpowder. She wraps her tongue around, applies gentle suction to the tip of his thumb. The flavour combination is known to her, by Daryl's own hand, but current configuration is vastly unfamiliar. She meets Rick's eyes and grinds down on Daryl's mouth, her weeping cunt doing exactly nada to silence his satisfied groan.