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wickedusername · 8 months ago

Text

Apple Red

Curse!Reader x Mahito || 18+ MDNI

Synopsis:

In which our favorite shape shifting psychopath discovers the wonders of sex with someone equally fucked up in the head, all under a philosophical motif of the Knowledge Argument/Mary's Room, a thought experiment posing that certain mental states can't be known unless you experience them yourself.

A/n: Bringing this over from AO3! It was brought about in my annoyance at every Mahito fic being non-con and others yet thinking the man is illiterate. Listen, he may have been born yesterday but he's read more philosophy than you and me. This has an overarching Mary's room motif, skim it over, your enjoyment will be increased threefold. Just like your cl- Wikipedia article if you can't watch.

Tw: dead dove: do not eat, body horror, sadomaso, asphyxiation/choking, blood kink, double penetration, p in v, anal, murder kink, necrophilia mention, shapeshifting. However!! praise kink, body worship, dirty talk, consensual sex, size kink, no actual murder takes place.

Word count: 6,1k words

Epigraph:

He lowered his abs over your back again and got close to your ear. Licks, pecks and bites peppered your back, popping up in places you know mouths shouldn't be. “The pleasure of your wet, gorgeous pussy, deep and clenching for me… No dead or unwilling thing has it. You'll come for me again, won't you, dearie?

"Absolutely feral” is not enough to describe what was going on between you and Mahito. He groped every part of you, your ass, your thighs, your breasts, the fat on your hips. Arms scratched and pinched at the muscle and fat on every part of your torso with his fingers. All while his tongue licked all over your mouth and lips, swirled around yours, elongated down to your throat. His jaw took in more and more like he would gobble you up. You had your hands way up under his poncho, scratching his back to raw flesh.

This had started as a conversation. You were barely a sketch of a curse, not rivaling the strength of the other ones you knew, but shapely enough to pass as human to those who could see you. You tried your best to mind your own business and stay in hiding, fully aware the persecution of sorcerers could end you in one fell swoop. The unfinished subway station you liked to call home was where you spent most of your time. Nestled between the decaying scaffolding, the staff room was where you sat with him, the only furnished room among the many half-finished nooks of the construction site. The bare surfaces didn't bother you, and the room had remained thankfully untouched in the two or so years since construction was halted and abandoned.

You, however, neglected none of the room. Whenever you had the chance to be around humanoid curses, you made a point to invite them over. You loved to banter and befriend, but just as much as you loved to occasionally hit the jackpot for one that you could sleep with. You didn't care to investigate your origins, but you weren’t born of anything family-friendly, you knew that much.

You'd known Mahito for a while. He was introduced to you by Kenjaku, an annoying body-hijacker who'd seeked to recruit you for his revolutionary cause. You wanted none of it, especially keen on self-preservation, but the two of you had hit it off. Two curses of the psyche had plenty to commiserate about, so you often hung around each other. And you'd just now managed to have him in your nest. Of course it wasn't every time you dragged someone to your staff room that you wanted to fuck them, and you certainly wouldn't mind if it led nowhere. But he was the most human of all curses – maybe of all there were – so of course you wanted to ask him about sex. To your surprise, his opinions were less than satisfactory.

“It's not as good as murder, to be honest.” He tapped the arm of the couch he was slouched on, staring you down with conflicting feelings. It was definitely not what he was here to talk about, but it did leave him curious.

“Are you serious? You've been doing it on things that don't move, haven't you?” It was the explanation you could conoct for why he would think that.

“I can make them move, you know? I've put the parts together, it's just not all that.” He retorted.

“It's about more than the parts. It's the entirety of the person you're with.”

“I've tried full, intact humans. The first one I, uh… killed them by accident. Another one I killed beforehand and they start going cold and don't feel as nice. I kinda gave up after that, I really don't see how it's so hyped.”

“Yeah, that's not the fun way to do it. You're trying to get on the level of fragile, puny humans.” You looked to the side in pure contempt.

The disgust for human weakness nearly seeped out of you. You'd tried humans, and as good as sex was with anyone, you also boasted similar results. You had no need to kill or force, like he likely did. They flocked to you. It was easy, it was your nature. But it always ended in a body to discard. You did wonder, partly, if it was in the inherent fact of being a curse that your drive to fulfill your desire ended in human death. But killing wasn't the drive you yearned for, and you were more than happy to have something that would live to fuck another day. It was the whole reason you enjoyed other curses much more, anyway.

“Alright, I'll bite.” Mahito smiled. “What's the fun way?”

Your lips curled into a smile worth a hundred bucks. Now here you were, gripping his hair, licking his teeth and waiting eagerly for what came next.

Mahito lifted you up into his lap with what seemed like two arms wrapping around your thighs like thick belts. Two others squished and pulled on your asscheeks, torturing them, digits slipping forward to tease your clothed entrance from below. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, even though you didn't need to make much strength to be carried around. Against your belly, his hard-on pushed a tent on his leather pants. He pulled away from you with a laugh.

“This really isn't bad!”

“We haven't even started.” you leaned into his ear, scraping your lips against it before biting hard at his earlobe. “The fun part is that you can fuck me up”.

His eyes gleamed with fun and desire.

“How?” He pinned you against one of the walls. His smile was unnaturally wide, tugging at the muscles of his cheeks, pushing them up against his lower eyelids that squeezed against his fiery wide glare.

“However you want.” Your own stare burned with passion, knowing the idea of destroying you would fuel his fire to the maximum.

His dick twitched in his pants, achingly hard. A fifth arm stretched out of his stitched, toned right shoulder. His hand caressed the side of your face, combing your hair slowly back, tucking it behind your ear, before gripping your face roughly and pushing your head against the wall. He deformed it, veins and muscles bulging and pulsing in waves through your face and down your neck, while you healed up, undoing his damage and rolling your eyes back into your head. You savored his torture. His mismatched eyes burned with glee and he laughed, near maniacally, at your enjoyment.

“You-! You are too much fun!” He licked his lips and continued to cackle, like he had a front seat in the world's best joyride.

“More from the inside.” You teased. You lowered your hand to his pants and wrapped your fingers around the outline of his dick. He hissed as you stroked him, making you bite your lip at the sound.

The hand that was deforming your face stopped its transfiguring and moved to the top of your head, where it pulled your hair. He pressed your body further against the wall, giving you enough stability to bring both your hands to his pants, unzip them and allow his cock to spring free from the leather. You wrapped your hand around it and stroked him. Starting at the base, where it sprouted through the patch of brown fur that framed it, all the way to its pink round head. Your other hand caressed his abdomen, circling and clawing at the stitches in his cum gutters.

Mahito moaned and bucked his hips into your touch, squeezing your ass and thighs harder, pulling on your hair tighter. His eyes fluttered and his mouth hung open, before his sight landed on your chest, rising and falling under your tight fit shirt.

You encouraged him with a hum and the hand that was pulling your hair moved downwards, where its forearm split into halves. They promptly scrunched the cloth at the neck seam, one on each side, and ripped it apart, turning it to a cluster of circular tatters hanging from your waist and arms. His lips let out a long loud breath with the aftersound of a suppressed moan, almost like he was trying not to drool at the sight. He buried his face in your chest with nothing but nirvana in his mind.

You held the back of his head and nuzzled his hair as you kept stroking him, his pleasure-filled expression hidden between your breasts. Your breaths were heavy, and he would not stop letting out quiet grunts at your handjob. His hands roughly massaged your ass and the flesh belts around your thighs cut circulation to your feet, making them tingle. The arm that had split in two reunified, being joined by a sixth on the left side, and they both fondled your breasts. Mahito squeezed his face between the mounds and placed unrestrained bites and licks on them. When he felt himself getting close, he placed his lips against your ribs and muttered into them.

“You were right. I need the rest of it. I need to get in you.”

Mahito gripped your shoulders and slammed you against the wall once again, making you fumble the stroking rhythm you had. With the other pair of arms he gripped your asscheeks like rough dough and pulled you against him, rubbing his dick over your crotch. His nails dug in to the point of piercing cloth.

He brought his arms down from your breasts to fumble with the string of your pants. Unable to pull them or rip them away because of your legs around him, he turned around and let go of your ass, making you fall head-first into the floor. An unpleasant cracking was heard and blood splattered in a beautiful halo around your head, and you just healed the concussion shut. The only thing off the floor were your legs, still held at the sides of his hips. He stepped back and pulled your pants off with two hands at the rim and the two belts at the thighs, now sliding down to your knees and shins. When the pants were off, he tossed them to the side and recoiled the belts back into his body.

With now four arms, he crawled over you and pressed your legs apart. Mahito ripped the underwear you had like it was made of paper, throwing the pieces to the side. He held his dick in one hand, gently rubbing the head against your labia.

“God, I'm going to ruin you.” He grinned with a sing-sing tune of pure glee.

You grabbed him by the poncho and pulled him down to your level so you could talk.

“Think I'm not already rotten?” You whispered into his ear and licked your bottom lip, awaiting his response.

Instead of a witty remark, he just buried himself into you until bottoming out. He bit his lip and swallowed a big gulp, and you salivated with lascivious anticipation watching the stitches on his neck rise and fall from the movement.

“Fuck… This is good.” He muttered almost resentfully.

He threw his head back and enjoyed the feeling of your warm cunt. It was slicker than whatever he had before. Deeper. Warmer. Everything about the real thing, with the wetness and interaction of a willing participant, didn't compare to what he had done to transfigured humans, or to corpses, or to himself. Snapping back to reality, he started moving, and without much buildup he went right to pumping into you repeatedly. He was not at all mindful of still having his clothes on, of being on the cold floor, or even recalled being able to transfigure you while he was at it. All he could enjoy was the feeling.

You gripped the cloth falling over his back and started bunching it over his stitched shoulders, tucking his hair out of the way. When you got to the rim, you pulled the poncho over his head and he carelessly shoved it aside, shaking it off of the single arm that was stuck in its segmented sleeve. His hair fell forward with the movement and it now hung over you, grazing and tickling your chest. The view of his abs over you as he pounded was significantly better than a damn windowpane poncho.

Your own hands were busy as you tugged forcefully on a strand of his hair and decided to touch yourself, bringing about the familiar buildup of heat and electricity in the pit of your stomach. He noticed your hand and soon had it joined by an extra mouth, sprouting comically forward from his lower abdomen, right through his treasure trail. The mouth licked right with and over your fingers, and soon you were holding your pussy open for him, pressing down on your labia with your fingers. Their occasional twitching, your body's way to dispel some of the tension it was building.

“Do you want to feel what it's like when something comes around you? When they squeeze with you inside?” You teased, coaxing dirty talk out of him.

“I do… Come and scream my name. Fuck, I want to watch your face while you do it.”

“Then fuck me harder…” You mewled. His thrusts got stronger and he brought one of the arms sustaining his torso to grip your shoulder and push you harder against him with every pound. Your back chafed against the concrete, ripping at the skin of your scapulas. The mouth on your clit latched on and flicked its tongue around, catching the bud repeatedly.

Mahito lifted the last arm that sustained his torso from the floor, putting his weight on your thighs with the other pair. It forced them higher. It made your muscles sting. You unfolded your knees and placed your calves on his shoulders, and the position was riveting. He placed that hand on your mouth, where he pulled your lips, pinched your tongue, enjoyed the drool. Mahito straightened his back, lifting his torso away from your face. He ended up gripping your lower jaw like a handle, his knuckles under your tongue and thumb pressing into the soft spot under your chin. His nails cut the bottom of your mouth and he probably dislocated your jaw a couple of times with his thrusting, but fuck if you cared.

Your eyes rolled over as the heat built up higher and your toes curled around nothing. You thrashed your feet about in restlessness and the hands holding your thighs apart just tightened their grip, wavering with the movement of the muscles underneath them. You called out to him as promised and came around him. The pressure washed away in waves, rolling over you one by one in electric spasms. The tongue in the abdominal mouth flattened against your clit and you let it lick a trail slowly upwards. He could barely process his thoughts when the first spasm jolted your lower region.

“Ma- a- Ah!!” you fumbled your attempt to utter his name a second time.

“Ah...! Shit!” His eyes shot open and his mouth hung agape as you clenched around his dick.

He lost the regularity in his thrusting and let his sight glaze over, twitching at the feeling of your slick. The pulse brought him over the edge, and before your orgasm had fully waived he was moaning and pumping sloppily into you, spurting warm cum through your insides. His moans were even louder than yours, and his arms shook from the pleasure. Your half-lidded eyes framed by sweat met his and he had to shut them and turn his head away so he wouldn't be distracted. He moaned with the shivers that ran down his legs, his abdomen spasming and clenching. The abdominal mouth hung and drooled against your crotch, devoid of mind.

“Shit… you got so tight.” Mahito sighed, catching his breath, still coming down from his high.

“Isn't it so nice? You'll have to make me come again if you want more of that.” you giggled, partly trying to convince him to please you harder.

“Oh, I'll do so much more than make you come.” The man shook his head softly and looked down on you with a grin.

He didn't have such an issue as a refractory period. As soon as his dick went soft, he just made himself a new one and pushed that within you instead.

“Ah… More…” you cooed after his first few thrusts and it gave him a brand new idea.

Without ever pulling out, he made his cock a full double its volume. It shifted with delicious waves to the length of his foot and the thickness of a wrist. You bit your lips feeling its growth inside you, expanding your walls tighter. He pulled it out just to tease and even pushing it back took a little effort. The member stretched you open, the friction helped by all the wet and seed already inside. You felt a tinge of pride in your own pussy for taking it. He went right back to fucking. The pounding of this new dick made you feel so delightfully full, and the mild pain of his tip hitting your cervix was nothing but seasoning to your masochism. He wouldn't slide all the way in, instead he just pushed against the spongy back of your pussy until he felt too much resistance and slid back out, again and again.

The hand he once had in your mouth slithered down to your neck, where it was soon joined by the one that held your shoulder. He now had two hands on your thighs and two on your neck. He put his full weight on your trachea, and he seemed to love the feeling of wrapping his fingers around your small chunk of spine and muscle and grip it tight, with full suffocating intent. You couldn't breathe, but you didn't need to. His rhythmic slams against your cunt translated to his fingers digging harder and harder into your flesh, unrelenting as tugs on a zip tie. Pump after pump after pump, the pressure on your neck and on your cervix mixed in your head. They fought for your attention in turns with whichever felt strongest at any given second.

“Ah… I want to kill you so bad. I wanna blow you up into pieces.” Both arms pressed into your neck hard enough to scrunch it thin, folding the skin into rolls. He admired it as its color transitioned in a spotty gradient from pale to pink to red, to near grape under his fingers.

You couldn't talk, but you ran your finger under his chin and up his cheek, up to the stitches near his ear. You gripped the hair at the back of his head with both hands and held the blue-gray strands tight while he rolled repeatedly into you. He hissed in contentment at the feeling of you around him, at the sight of him around you, at the collapsing of your trachea under his hands. It made him way too aroused.

His gaze dropped slowly to your abdomen again and, with an intrusive thought, he decided to push into you until the base of his shaft. The pain stole your attention fully to your nether region. He pushed past any point of comfort into your cervix and gawked at the sight of your abdomen bulging ever so slightly to accommodate him. The sight made his dick twitch with the will to release. The feeling of pushing into your cervix past its intended size put wonderful pressure against his head. He pumped again and immediately had to stop himself because his stomach was coiling in pleasure against his will.

“Shit… I don't wanna come again already.” He let go of your neck and pulled out of you with haste, leaving with a loud sigh.

The curse panted loudly and stood up with laborious effort. He used this break to get his pants fully off. Both gasped for air, though you had much more of a reason. He wormed his legs out one after the other like boneless noodles and threw the pants in roughly the same direction where his poncho sat on the floor.

“You've made yourself such a gorgeous body.” you sat up and reached forward to grip the stitches in his thighs with admiration. You ran your digits over the raised clamps along the scar lines and resisted the urge to lean forward to kiss them. Mahito had kept human legs, even if the hairy patch around his base was still more like fur than pubes. Everything about his body was perfect to you. He snorted.

“You like it?” His smile widened. “How about this?”

With that, he split the dick mercilessly in half and reshaped both semicircles to the same girth as the first. He now had two wonderful shafts of exquisite size hanging from the soft brown fuzziness of his crotch.

“Fuck…” You whined, wordless except for the blushing in your cheeks and the glistening in your eyes. You scooted closer to him and sat up on your knees to get your mouth to the height where it could ghost over the shafts. You held them and fidgeted with their shapes, occasionally running your tongue along them, kissing their sides and cupping his balls. You looked up at him as you placed a hard lick over one of the tips and then the other in succession, tasting the precum that seeped from both. He could swear his balls ached at the sight.

“Get up and turn around for me?” Mahito grabbed both shafts and stepped back to keep you from worshiping them any longer. You bemoaned the loss, but got up and turned your back to him.

He embraced you with care and placed pecks on your neck. Mahito stretched an arm to the side and pushed the small wooden table that sat in the middle of the room against a wall. He walked forward with you until he had your legs pushing against the table’s edge and both of you faced the wall. You watched with wonder and a tinge of horror as a bramble of independent limbs split from his own and wrapped around the table.

Mahito placed a long, breathy kiss on your nape before putting his palm on your back and bending you over. You let him hold your wrists delicately and put them together above your head. He guided your forearms to lean against the wall, where he gripped them tight, making sure your hands wouldn't go anywhere. Two hands stretched from the table only to hold you by the lats, steadying you. Still carefully, the curse rubbed your shoulders and bent over you. He kissed your back and ran his other three hands down your sides, squeezing your anatomy and rubbing gentle scratches on the fats he could grip.

“You are being so wonderful, sweetheart.” Mahito placed kisses all over your back, his hair dragging ticklish paths along your sides. You looked back at him. The mood seemed to shift to something more loving than you ever expected.

“So caring all of a sudden? What's the matter, are you insecure about the b-- ahh?” He immediately shoved the top shaft inside your pussy until the base, shutting up any cocky comments coming out of you. The pain devolved your words into incoherence.

“You don't think I'm some kid, do you? I enjoy your teasing, but I'm inexperienced, not stupid. I'm being nice because I need you to relax if I want them both in.” He patted your butt and rubbed it in circles with both hands. “So you'll just enjoy it for me, yes?”

“I will… Mahito.” The line left you breathless. He was suddenly so much hotter than you'd thought. So far you thought you'd been commanding him, but it hadn't crossed your mind that he knew what he was doing. He knew what he was doing.

As he was standing behind you, he had a perfect view of your entrance dripping for him and he gripped your asscheeks and hummed while looking down at it. The way your back arched so nicely against him when he rolled his hips into you was almost as riveting and the feeling of the bottom dick rubbing against your clit with his back and forth. He pushed a few times, letting his cockhead rub on the hood of your clit, before he reached one hand around your thigh to your crotch. The man felt for your clitoris and then gave his palm a mouth to eat you out with. His fingers sprawled under your entrance, where he kept slowly rocking against you.

“Not that you don't have something I didn't know, but the missing piece was feeling it. I know plenty. It's… a Mary's room situation.” He kept talking, earnest and lost in thought while his hand sucked and licked your clit, mindlessly rubbing and patting your curves in admiration. The second shaft twitched and smeared precum on the back of his hand. “I guess it's just that… I can be too rough for humans to have any of the good stuff, I assumed I just couldn't get it.”

He placed one palm on your back and you felt the most sensitive spot of your clit peek out and expand, becoming bigger, more sensitive. Within your muscles, nerve endings branched and reached, making the pleasure increase threefold. If before you were casually enjoying his eating out, now you spasmed and lost breath as the feeling moved you dangerously up the drop of a roller-coaster. You whined incoherent.

“But you… You've shown me the pleasure in them.” He lowered his abs over your back again and got close to your ear. Licks, pecks and bites peppered your back, popping up in places you know mouths shouldn't be. “The pleasure of your wet, gorgeous pussy, deep and clenching for me… No dead or unwilling thing has it. You'll come for me again, won't you, dearie?”

“Mahito- I'm- Ah, I'm-!” Your breath hitched with the building electricity.

“That's just what I wanted to hear!” He chuckled with a genuineness that felt out of place.

The roller-coaster stopped for only a second at the peak of chilling anticipation before dropping you into a storm of pleasure, washing away. You moaned without thought, the sound echoing against the walls and bringing heat to your cheeks with the embarrassment of your pathetic noises. Your legs shook and threatened to give in, but he had more than two arms holding you tight. As you came off it your heartbeat thumped in your ears, in your chest, in your clit.

He praised you as you came, closing his eyes to enjoy your spasming velvet walls around his dick. You felt like heaven, tight, swollen to all hell, plush, malleable as a squishy toy. He couldn't believe he'd willingly discarded it as literary hyperbole. It could be as good as he'd imagined, and it was breaking him. The red of Mary's apple, sitting right in front of his eyes.

Before your mind was back to the present, he pulled out his cock dripping with slick and pressed the tip softly against your ass. With the hand that ate you out, he gathered as much wetness and he could on his fingers by rubbing them between your folds and brought that hand to your anus, where his fingers entered you to spread it all around.

He now had one hand holding your arms and one in the small of your back angling your ass up at him, another one that thrusted softly into your anus and a final one held his top shaft, preparing it to enter. You had just come off your orgasm when he pushed the shaft inside, slowly against the resistance of your ring. The burn reminded you, what you'd almost forgotten by now, that his dicks were still unpleasantly too big.

You whined and he reassured you with shushes and pats until he was in to the hilt. “You said I can fuck you up and you can't take this much? You're disappointing me…”

“It's not- a complaint.” You clarified. It really wasn't, the noises you produced were entirely reflexive.

Mahito hummed in agreement and held the bottom shaft that peeked between your thighs. He pumped it with his fist to spread the excessive precum that seeped from the tip. It had been dripping, neglected since you last licked it. He curved it towards your pussy and pushed in. You felt stuffed, entirely full, with no space left for yearning, no matter how much arousal had deepened your canal. Especially with both their sizes, it was entirely too much.

“This… is so crazy good. Even when I'm not doing anything else…” Mahito sighed as he slid leisurely back and forth into the holes, fully devoted to feeling. The pleasure of a slick recipient was doubled, occupying more of his mind than anything else had. He gripped the back of your head without looking and felt the sticky matted dirt of blood on your hair.

“Hm? What's this from?” He removed his hand in surprise.

“You… when you got my pants off.” You murmured.

“I like it.” He brought the hand to his mouth and licked the blood off it. “I think I know what I want to do…”

“I don't care what you do, just fuck me… please…” you whimpered, growing desperate at his stalling. You tried remove your hands from his grip, but they were well secured above your head. He ran that thumb over your knuckles in consolation.

“Hm, like this?” He pulled back and slammed into you in mockery.

“Yes! Please…!” you nodded vigorously.

“Is that so? I think I would rather…” He vexed and extended two of his arms forward, where they wrapped around your neck and forehead to pull your head back as far as it could bend. Your neck ached and your mouth opened wide in an effort to relieve his grip on your neck. “Even like that?”

“Anything… please-!” You begged, filling up his sadistic ego.

“Aye aye then…” he cheerfully agreed.

He held your hip with his only free hand and pounded you, over and over, without restraint. The arms that held you stretched unnaturally long to allow him to straighten his posture and pound with his full body. Grunts left his lips that sounded entirely too hot to be caused just by effort.

Mahito kept a steady rhythm and pulled your head back with his hands, forcing every muscle in the front of your neck to stretch taut. Your sight was confined to your forearms rubbing against the unpainted cement wall. His grip on your wrists turned your skin white, outlined by a flurry of red streaks. You spread your pinkies apart, trying to place your fingers on the wall, but barely achieved it, still restrained by his fist.

The hand on your neck twisted your anatomy, sending bulges of vein and muscle through you like shivers, pulsing your entire body with gross transfiguration. Not only that, but it sharpened, the web of this thumb thinning into a blade's edge and piercing into skin with his grip. You gasped in desperation as it started to dig into muscle and tried to heal the cut shut against his hand. He tightened his grip and shook your neck, back and forth, to dispel your effort.

“No.” His hand pierced further. “Let it run.”

Blood dripped down your torso, tickling your chest in its path and leaving sticky ruby trails in its wake. Drips ran down his arm and over your collarbones, contouring the mounds of your breasts, until they could reach your belly and fall to the ground, heavy with accumulated volume, unable to reach any further down and losing their grip on skin from the shaking of his pounds.

The cut burned like fire, stealing your attention from anything else. To get your focus back down, Mahito slammed into you hard and started sliding the shafts in alternating paces. He didn't need to thrust his hips: they pumped autonomously. The feeling was like nothing you'd ever had, either. You attempted to force words out of the hyperstimulating cacophony of sensations he was putting you through, shaking your attention away just to call his name. You bucked your hips backward into his thrusts, helping his movement in the only way you could.

He wrapped two more arms around your waist, gluing his body to yours again, and gripped the softness right below your ribs. You lost count of how many he had. He curved his fingers inward into the middle of your abdomen, sharpening his fingertips into precise blades, piercing at the skin and gripping as if he were going to pull out chunks with his bare hands. He gripped your fat and rammed his hips deliciously as blood ran piping hot down his forearms. The curse moaned and let his mouth hang agape, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, as the inherent eroticism of entering flesh turned him on so bad he thought he might come immediately. The pained cry that left your mouth went from his ears straight to his dick.

“Fuuuuck.” He leaned down and breathed hard against your back. The shaft in your ass twitched, bringing too much tension to his lower belly, relaying the message that with another second his balls would turn blue. You clenched your hole around it, milking it for release, and he couldn’t hold anything back. It pumped your ass full of seed, spewing jets of white inside you. Mahito placed his forehead against your spine and whined, his mouth ghosting over you with a small string of drool below. His fringe caught on beaded sweat and stuck to your back, but still he never stopped pumping. It was all only from the dick on top, the one that had been in you the longest. The one in your pussy still hurt for release, winding a fiery coil in his stomach.

His palms distorted you, shifting your insides so your flesh would compress and release against him. He was using you, making you a flesh toy, providing squeeze in his own terms. It peeved him for being too little effort from you, too close to what he already knew, but just the puffiness of your cunt against him was novelty enough. He didn't care now that he was in despair, pining for a second orgasm that didn't delay much further.

He came for the second time with cries that seemed almost painful and whipped his spine straight, carelessly forgetting himself and pulling on your head enough to snap it backwards. He moaned pathetically with the shakes of every muscle and attempted to rock his hips with faltering success. He let go of the grip in every hand and dropped his sweat-covered frame over you, pushing your body down into the table.

“Ah… ah… are you- alive?” He asked meekly at your limp, unmoving frame. He'd done things that would kill a human a few times, but he wondered if this had been too much.

“I told you I would be.” You replied with equally breathless lilt from underneath.

Happiness painted his perspective in pink and he recoiled all but two arms back while the main pair slithered underneath to hug you tenderly. The sticky layer of blood made his hug that much warmer in the literal sense, giving tangibility to the figurative warmth of his thanks. He pulled you tight into his embrace, and you folded your arms over your shoulders to pat his head on your nape, both waiting for their breaths to settle.

“I know it's been dragging out for long, but still… I don't want it to stop.” Mahito turned to nuzzle the side of your head. “I still wish I had more… more of the things only you can give.”

You pushed yourself off the table, forcing him to slip out of your holes and lift himself off as well. You turned to him and cuffed his chin to bring his lips down on yours, kissing him with sloppy nods, which one could almost mistake for a loving trade of affection. He wrapped his bloodied hands on your back, dragging trails that mixed with sweat to smear more than they should. Your lips separated and your eyes met his mismatched pair, half-lidded and full of wonder.

“Tell me…” you whispered into his lips with confidence he had expected to have snuffed out after all this.

“I want to experience your body more…” He licked his bottom lip, unable to divert his eyes from yours. “Let me find out how much I can dismantle you before you break”.

“If you still have the vigor, I'll give you something that you really never had from your attempts.”

You pushed him backwards, making him stumble with crooked steps and fall on his ass. His smile spread further than humanly possible when you got down and crawled over him, dressed in a stained scarf of blood that licked your entire torso in red.

You kneeled at the sides of his hips and reached down to ride him.

#mahito x reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk x reader #mahito #mahito smut #fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut #dead dove do not eat

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thgfanfictionlibrary · 7 months ago

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Never Hijacked!Peeta Fics Masterlist

Created: April 25th, 2024

Checked:---

A Cool Kiss-endlessnightlock (ao3)

Summary: When Peeta is rescued from the Capitol and brought to D13, he’s forgotten everything related to Katniss. The Capitol has erased his memories: no Valley Song, no bread, no games, nothing. It’s the perfect opportunity for Katniss to let it go. It’s what everyone tells her, but she still kisses his pearl goodnight.

A Fading Bruise-VanillaCottonCandy (ao3)

Summary: "We shouldn't be here," he suddenly states, as if we're not in a room surrounded by doctors and workers of District 13. And Haymitch. When my expression contorts to confusion, he clarifies. "I don't think we're safe here, Katniss." Alternate Universe in which Peeta was never hijacked in Mockingjay.

Accepting What's Real-Anna_Dandelion (ao3) Summary: Peeta gets rescued from the capitol, he is not hijacked. I am bad at summaries, not sure where I am going with it. Peeta's POV. If I could hold you for a minute-wendywobbles2016 (ao3) Summary: Little what-if piece. What if the Capitol hijacking didn’t go as planned?

Kingdom Come-bellablue27 (ao3)

Summary: I throw myself into his arms with so much force I’m surprised it doesn’t knock us both over. Luckily, Peeta has always been strong and stable, so he grips onto me with equal intensity, holding me steady. I look up at him, and find him glancing down at me, blue eyes swimming with tears. “Are you real?” he asks. “I’m real." Canon-adjacent Mockingjay AU where Peeta was never hijacked.

no cameras-orangecranscones (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta reunite in District 13, and she realizes a thing or two.

Reunion-Mollywog (ao3)

Summary: A kidnapped but not hijacked District 13 Everlark reunion

The Only One-thesweetnessofspring (ao3)

Summary: A non-hijacked Peeta is rescued, but he's not being affectionate with Katniss like she wants. He thinks she's now dating Gale. She thinks he doesn't want her. They're both desperate for each other.

Underground-oh_wellau (ao3) Summary: No hijacking. No chocking her to death. But Peeta doesn't need to wear a 'Mentally disoriented' bracelet on his wrist for her to know that they match. we’ll fill our mouths with cinnamon-petruchio (ao3) Summary: Mockingjay AU. A non-hijacked Peeta is brought back to Thirteen from the Capitol.

#masterlist #thg fanfiction #everlark fanfiction #thg #everlark #neverhijacked

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just-another-author-i-guess · 2 years ago

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Judd smut in Y/n's car? 😈

JUDD SMUT IN Y/N’S CAR !!!

Tags: fem! Reader, porn without plot, well I mean they talk like a little before they fuck, driving under the influence?, okay literally don’t do that pls idk why they did it in this fic, being low key inappropriate in front of kids, more weed smoking 🫶, judd has a HUGE HORSE COCK, he also degrades Y/n quite a bit, also like semi public sex??, it’s literally in a car, and once again very unprotected sex, PLEASE WRAP IT!!

Summary: they fuck in Y/n’s car after Judd got his taken away lmfao

Author’s note: SORRY this took me so long to write for some reason,, I hate school so much oml 😡 I was originally going to finish and post this yesterday but like then I got a bunch of unsolicited dick pics and I got scared and didn’t feel like writing smut anymore 🧍🏻🏃🏻‍♀️ anyways,, I’m back today and I’m fine, just traumatized. I love being a woman fr 💩

Judd smut in Y/n’s car

Word count; 3,9K

(smut under the cut)

Judd took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling most of it through his nose but having the decency to turn his head slightly and exhaling the rest through the barely opened window.

He flicked the burned tip out the window as well; cinder falling down and gathering in the cracks of where the window sat in the door.

“You drive like a fucking grandma— drive faster,” He instructed.

You didn’t turn your head from the road. “I’m actually driving exactly what the speed limit allows. Fuck off. “ You grumbled.

The two of you were on the way back from one of Judd’s deals, which you were almost late to because Judd decided to leave 10 minutes behind schedule, forgetting you had to drive and refused to go too far over the speed limit. The deal itself had been pretty uninteresting; you sat in the car and watched as Judd handed the guy a plastic back and he handed your boyfriend the money.

He got his car hijacked (parentsjacked) two weeks ago, because he got caught lighting an old building on fire. You were there too, actually, too drunk and stoned to care in the moment; but because Judd could be a pretty good boyfriend at times he covered up for you.

“Yeah. Whatever. I need at least one of us to have a car.” He said, when you asked him about it.

Immediately after, you had been prompted to Judd’s personal Uber. Not to mention he had to hide most of his,, not legal substances in the trunk of your car, hence why you were now even more adamant on following traffic rules as to not get pulled over by the cops.

(Or found out by your mom, who already wasn’t a very big fan of your boyfriend)

His raccoons had also made themselves at home in your backseat, at the moment the two of you were alone in the car but often there would be a couple of them napping in the back.

Judd grumbled something in response that you didn’t quite hear, but you retorted; “Shut the fuck up. Why can’t you just act like a passenger princess, or something,”

He opened and closed his mouth, cigarette hanging on his lips. “What the fuck did you just call me?”

You smiled a little. “That’s what you are, babe. You’re my passenger princess,”

Blinking slowly, he put the cigarette out in the ashtray he had placed between the front seats and stared at you blankly. “What the hell are you talking about? You think I look like a princess?” He was baffled.

You suppressed a chuckle, and turned your head quickly to gauge his reaction. “I forgot you’re too edgy to use tiktok,” You murmured. When you opened it on your phone, he would sometimes stand behind you and glare at the screen over your shoulder, but that was all the exposure he’d had to the app.

Judd frowned. “Why don’t you pull over and I’ll show you who the real fucking princess is.” It was half a threat, but none that you took too seriously.

“Oh, yeah? You’d have to pay extra for that, Uber drivers don’t normally fuck their costumers.” You answered coyly, but he didn’t find your quip nearly as funny as you did. You turned back to the road, making sure you weren’t about to run into any middle schoolers as you neared Bridgeton Middle School. Judd didn’t say anything– but you felt his large hand slither up your leg, enclosing around your thigh and squeezing the fat there softly.

He looked out the window to his side, refusing to grant you attention while he continued to massage your thigh; and glaring as you pulled into the parking lot. Judd had convinced you to skip school that day, so you could drive him to his stupid deal and you could smoke and get McDonald’s after. The first part of his plan went without a hitch, until you got incredibly high-horny and you ended up fucking in the bathroom at McDonald’s as well. Unfortunately, you had to leave sooner than intended; in a daze and desperate to sober up before you went and picked Jessi up from school. Coincidentally Nick as well, since, you know, Judd's parents took his car.

You parked and turned to Judd, crawling half over to his seat and forcing him to look at you. His glare lessened as he stared at your grinning face so close to his; leaning in. You kissed him softly once, then twice, then three times, giggling and pulling away whenever he chased you. He growled and the hand on your thigh went to your waist, he pulled you in and was just about to kiss you properly, forcefully and roughly when a series of knocks came to your window.

It was Jessi and Nick. You averted your head and let Judd kiss your cheek instead, gently pushing him back as you sat back down in your seat. You motioned for the two to come in.

Jessi opened the door, and allowed Nick to crawl inside first. “It smells like weed and junkfood in here.” She commented, a slight question in her statement as she crawled in, too, and closed the door behind her.

You turned your body halfway in your seat, coming to face her. “Sure.” You ignored her comment. “Had a good day at school?”

Both her and Nick nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. Can you help me with some maths-stuff later?” She asked and you wrinkled your nose; Maths was not something you were particularly good at, but you nodded and agreed to help her anyways.

Judd’s hand returned to your thigh and you glanced at him– he was staring blankly at the kids, but he met your eyes with raised eyebrows, indicating he wanted something from you. You hummed. “Hey, Jessi, how about hanging out at Nick’s house for a while?” You looked to Nick, who flushed slightly and nodded in agreement.

Jessi’s mouth tightened as she looked at Nick, and then you. She new that when you asked her that, you really meant; “Hey, Jessi, it would be more convenient for me to drive straight to Judd’s house so we can fuck.”

“C’mon Jessi, we can watch a movie or something,” Nick added hopefully. You smiled, a bit tightly as you looked at Jessi and she reluctantly uncrossed her arms and agreed. “Okay, fine. But can we do that stupid biology assignment together then, instead?”

Nick agreed happily, and the two quickly got a rather animated conversation started. You drove out of the parking lot, Judd’s hand increasing in height on your thigh till he was toying with the hem of your skirt. You flushed, gently pushing his hand down a couple times so Jessi and Nick wouldn’t see, but it ultimately was a losing battle.

The two’s conversation turned to background noise as you drove towards your destination, as fast as you could; now way faster than the speed limit allowed. Judd’s incessant caress of your thigh made your heart beat so much faster and your finger’s grip the steering wheel so much tighter— you could feel him staring hungrily at you the whole time too, seizing you up with that small twitch of his lips that meant he was going to fuck you till your legs were jelly.

‘Step on that goddamn speeder, sugar! Look how he’s eyeing you.. like a big, hungry wolf,’ Connie’s claws locked around the back of your seat, and she moaned when his nails slightly scratched at your fishnets; lifting them and making them slap against your thigh.

You gasped, and sent him a glare that bordered on a sultry pout. “I can’t,” you muttered to Connie. “I’ll actually run someone over if I go any faster,”

Your monstress shook the seat harder. ‘They won’t mind giving up their life for some sweet, sweet lovemaking baby~’ She purred and you glanced at her briefly, with a scandalised expression.

“I really don’t think you should be saying stuff like that,” You retorted, focused on evening out your breathing from the slow teasing of Judd’s warm hand. Then he leaned in, squeezing your thigh in a death grip and placed a long, slow kiss under your jaw

“You changed your mind about fucking your Uber costumer yet?” He drawled, deep voice dragging a whispering growl all the way up your spine.

You shivered. “I think I have,” you breathed back and felt him smile triumphantly against your neck.

He cackled darkly. “Good. You better drop the fucking attitude,” Then, he snapped your fishnets again, watching as thin, red lines appeared on your thigh.

Connie moaned loudly again, fanning her hands in front of her face before dramatically laying down on the floor of the car, between the front and back seats.

“Ew. Can you two not?” That time it was Nick speaking, arms crossed over his chest.

Jessi nodded in agreement; her gaze was locked on where Judd was touching your thigh, burning into you. Your boyfriend in question slowly retreated his hand, half turning in his seat to glare dissatisfied at your two passengers.

Nick shifted uncomfortably and whatever insult he had died on his tongue. “What? Are you fucking jealous or something?” He sneered.

The younger shrugged and looked away. “No.”

Judd grunted, gravely and deeply. “It’s not my fault you can’t get your little prick wet,” He wiggled his pinky finger for emphasis.

You failed to hold back a giggle and gently slapped his arm. “Don’t tell thirteen-year-olds to have sex, you ass,” You scolded, halfheartedly through and smiled as you came to a stop in front of the birch house.

“Okay, get out you two!” You called over your shoulder. “We’ll be right in— I’m just gonna park.” You bluffed, and didn’t miss the way Jessi rolled her eyes at you as she slammed the car door behind her.

Connie rose from the floor to sit in the middle seat in the back. ‘Yeah, park Judd’s dick right in your pussy!’ She drawled, making obscene gestures with her hands.

Judd was quick to point you to a nearby parking spot, concealed a bit by a willow tree with low-hanging branches. As soon as you were parked, you unbuckled your seatbelt and Judd was reaching for you.

He pulled you to him by your waist— settling you down over his lap, straddling him. You whimpered as you felt him against you, already straining in his pants. He grabbed greedy handfuls of your ass with one hand, having the other settle on the back of your neck and pulling your hair. He held your head in an iron grip, making sure you wouldn’t avoid his kiss this time around.

Then, he kissed you. Roughly, deeply, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly. You mewled as he bit your lower lip, arms wrapped around his neck and fingers gently pulling on the short hairs at the back of his head.

You were already moving your hips, without thinking about it and he wasted no time in aiding you; thrusting upwards while holding your hips down and helping you rock back and forth.

You were already quite sensitive from your earlier rough fuck in the McDonald’s bathroom, your clit swelled and started twitching almost instantly. The rough drag of denim on your panties was almost too much, but the sloshing of warmth in your lower belly kept you going— rutting yourself harder against him.

He moved from your lips, you let out a soft, whiny sigh. “You wanted it that bad, huh? You’re already so fuck-drunk,” He commented, that wicked smile pulling at his lips. He squeezed your asscheek hard. “Up.” He instructed, and shakily, you lifted yourself up to stand on your knees instead of sitting on him.

You held his shoulders for support, definitely not expecting him to bring both his hands under your skirt and roughly ripping your fishnets apart right under your pussy. He let them rip all the way down your thighs and you looked at him wide-eyed.

“I’ll get you new ones, baby.” He grinned, a bit coyly as he pushed your panties aside. His cold fingers gently brushed your folds and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about your ruined tights. Your breathing hitched and you desperately bucked your hips, trying to get him to touch you further.

His other hand returned to your hip, to hold it in place and keep you from rutting yourself against his fingers. He gave a warning growl, brows drawing together as he concentrated on the task at hand. He teased your folds apart with his pointer, feeling how warm and wet you already were. You were pulsing, almost, starting to clench before his fingers even entered.

“Judd—“ You moaned. “Do— do something.” You pleaded with him.

Connie was going crazy behind you as well, both her and Maury were sitting in the backseat contributing to an animated conversation. Your monstress shook Maury by the shoulders, yelling at him to get Judd to do anything.

‘C’mon! Fist her already!’ Maury roared, kicking the seat you and Judd were sitting on.

Your boyfriend inhaled sharply, pressing his thumb to your swollen bud— forcing a breathy, drawn out whine out of you. He retaliated by pressing down harder, slowly moving his thumb in a circle that had you desperately bucking into his hand.

He could feel your warmth leaking, wetness gathering and threatening to fall before he finally, finally gave in and shoved a finger into you. He looked at you, drinking in your expression as he burrowed one, long finger into your cunt.

Connie cheered and you cried out Judd’s name. He made a ‘come hither’ motion, slightly scratching deep within your walls right where you needed him. He chuckled, darkly as you clenched around his finger.

“Want one more?” He asked— pressing down on your clit deliberately right as you were about to answer.

You nodded your head, burying your face in his shoulder. “Mhm! Judd— please!” You wiggled your hips in emphasis.

“Good girl.” He praised you, adding a second finger as promised. He pumped them for a little while, relishing in the moans you tried to conceal in his neck and grunting at the occasional bites you left.

Then, he suddenly stopped moving, but not withdrawing his fingers. You whined pathetically in protest. “Relax, slut.” He said. “Fuck yourself on my fingers,”

You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately you were bouncing up and down on his hand; trying to bring them as far into your pussy as possible. You clawed at Judd’s shirt, pulling the neckline down so you could properly bite him and conceal most of your whiny moans.

He groaned, ripping his head back and allowing you more access to ravage his neck. You could feel yourself dripping, warm liquid gathering in Judd’s palm and running down his forearm. He pressed your clit harder, feeling your cunt clench tightly around his fingers— his cock ached at the thought of feeling your little pussy around him again.

The car filled with loud squelching sounds, every time you rose and fell back on his fingers. Your pace fastened in time with Judd’s assault on your clit and you cried out; “Please—please, more! Judd, please!”

“Yeah?” He drawled and you lifted your head from his neck slightly to nod your head. Then, he curled his fingers and touched a spot that had you seeing stars. You cried out, loudly, as his fingers began thrusting into you violently. Along with your combined forces, you moving your hips frantically and him rolling your clit with his thumb and scissoring his long fingers inside your pussy, you reached the edge quickly.

Judd sneered. “You gonna cum?” He knew the answer already, could feel it in the way your little pussy throbbed and clenched around his fingers.

Your thighs burned from your rapid movement, shaking as liquid flames consumed your belly. “S’good, s’good— yes,” you breathed, clawing at Judd’s chest.

He bend his fingers inside you again, breathing into your ear in his nice, deep voice. “Come on my fingers, pretty girl. C’mon.”

Again, you definitely did not need to be told twice. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you fell apart with a loud cry of your boyfriends name. He continued finger fucking you through your orgasm, until you were even puffier and so sensitive that you were shying away from his hands.

He grinned gleefully. “Good fucking girl,” he praised you, rubbing your clit in slow circles again, before finally pulling out and allowing you to rest on his knees.

You sat, feeling your own wetness drip underneath you as you tried to catch your breath— Judd however, wasted no time, unbuckling his pants and pulling his fat cock out.

You swallowed at the sight, how fucking hard he was and your pussy clenched again— as if it wasn’t already sore and abused. Subconsciously, you rutted your hips a bit forward, grinding on his knee as you watched him stroke himself. He hissed, hand tightly fisting the base of his cock and making its way to his leaking head; you timed your movements with his stroking.

“C’mere.” He grunted, hands leaving his swollen cock in favour of grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him.

On instinct, you reached forwards and grabbed his dick, standing on your knees again so you could sink down on him. You only managed to get the head in, before one of his large hands wrapped around your wrists; stopping you.

“You take what I give you, slut. Pull shit like that again and I’ll have you on your knees instead, got it?” He growled, his other hand restraining your hip in a death grip that was sure to leave marks on your after— long, purple finger prints.

Though the thought of sucking him off wasn’t terrible, your pussy ached so pathetically and you knew the only thing that would satisfy you was Judd’s cock rearranging your guts. So you whined, but nodded and let him guide you back.

He leaned the seat back a little, Maury yelped and moved away from his place behind you to make space as Judd leaned back. He lifted his hips up, emphasising what he wanted from you.

You reached out a shaky hand, closing it around his base and moving up and down just like he had before. He groaned, teeth clenching as you smeared his pre-cum from top to bottom, massaging him to the best of your ability. Still, you couldn’t ignore the harsh clenching of your hole as he kept you empty. You slowly started grinding against his thigh again, hoping he’d let you.

“Judd..” You sniffled, eyes close to filling with tears. “I need your cock inside me, please.”

You could almost feel Judd’s dick hardened in your grip, and he growled and sat up a little straighter. “Jeez. You whine like a bitch in heat,” He commented, rather smugly.

He beckoned you with his fingers again, and you raised yourself right over his cock but waited to sit down. Judd hummed in approval, guiding his cock with one hand and you with the other, till the head was making its way inside you.

You sighed, relieved, trying to relax your throbbing pussy so Judd could fit. He groaned. “You’re so.. fucking tight, relax.” He said, as he forced his way further inside you.

When he finally bottomed out, you moaned, loudly. He didn’t move right away, so again you took matters into your own hands and started softly rocking your hips.

He grabbed your hand, placing it over your belly to feel the bulge his cock had created inside you. “Feel that, baby? You’re so full, aren’t you?”

You barely registered the question, burying your face in his neck again to hide the way your whole expression screwed up in pleasure. “Mhm.. s’big, s’full.” You slurred.

Then, Judd started moving, bouncing you in his lap like a cocksleeve while you wailed into his shoulder. The stretch was almost unbearable, you felt him bruising your cervix each time he moved— the fit was so snug you could feel every ridge and vain on him.

He lost himself in the feeling of your warm, soft pussy, having tuned Maury out a long time ago he fucked you mercilessly, entirely focused on reaching his own end. He lifted his hips off the seat to pound into you from below— you could feel him in your belly, your clit scraping over his lower stomach every time he moved.

It was too much— you were already close to reaching your end, clenching so tightly around Judd that he cursed and could barely move.

“Feel good, you little slut?” He grunted, blunt nails digging into your sides.

You nodded desperately. “Good.” He said. “Then cum for me again, you’re so close, right? I can feel your little pussy clenching around my dick so tightly, god, you’re such a fucking whore.”

You kinda wanted to say something back, but with his rough thrusts and the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head and crossed; you couldn’t really deny him.

The air in the car felt electric as you came for a second time, bursting and feeling a flush of warm liquid spill from you and cover Judd’s cock. He groaned as you creamed, warm little hole sucking him in and fighting to keep him there. His breathing went erratic, and he bounced you harder, faster, to chase his own orgasm.

“Fuck! Shit, you’re so tight,” He growled through clenched teeth, fucking you so hard the car shook and he was sure to leave bruises. Your legs had gone numb by the time he took your hand again, placing it back on your belly right in time with his release.

His cock throbbed and he came. Hard. Thick ropes of warm cum filled you, stuffing you so full you could feel your belly swell even further under yours and Judd’s combined hands.

He leaned in and bit down on your neck, keeping his own noises as quiet as possible but making sure to leave your neck swollen and blue. You moaned softly as he bit you, not having the energy to shy away from the borderline painful overstimulation.

When he came down, you collapsed into his chest— breathing heavily. You sat like that for a while, the car’s windows had been fogged up and the only thing you could hear were your combined breathing.

‘Atta girl!’ Connie slithered around you, patting you on the head. You just mumbled incoherently in response, still too sex drunk to function.

Maury did the same, ruffling Judd’s hair as he leaned his head back against the seat and praising him— all of which Judd ignored.

“You’ll have to carry me back.” You muttered, after a long while.

Judd chuckled hoarsely, moving you a bit to pull out of you and tug himself back in his jeans. “Fuck no.”

You slapped his chest, gently, and pulled yourself up to look at him directly. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Then I did a good fucking job.” He snarked, leaning in and kissing your temple.

Well. It wasn’t like the two of you needed to be somewhere, relaxing in your car for a bit actually did seem like a pretty good option— and so that’s what you did.

God,, why am I horny for a fucking cartoon character wth 💀✋

Tags: @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)

#big mouth #judd birch #judd birch x reader #headcannons #big mouth x reader #judd birch smut #smut #Judd is so pretty omg

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sashi-ya · 9 months ago

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𝑻𝑶 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑨𝑳 𝑨 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻. Trafalgar Law x F! Reader

🌨 a/n: so I recently been to Austria, a country I often visit since it's literally like a dream. (plus, my mom knew she was pregnant with me there, so I was used to come back to Innsbruck as much as I could with her). But in any case I got inspired there to write this little fic, that might -or not- be a multi chapter one if you all like it. The place exists and the scam part, happened to me -kinda, the airbnb existed, but not as it was listed :P- but in any case, please enjoy and don't forget to leave some feedback if you want more~ ❄ tw: a very sfw story, that might evolve into something else if you want me to keep writing about their trip 😏 ☃ wc: 2.6k

Hijacking for the first time, what could go wrong? Maybe everything, maybe nothing.

A two-month long trip all around Europe has found you on a little village of Austria. Your boots are cold, but luckily they are snow proof ones. Your skin all bumpy, your cheeks irritated. It’s been snowing all night, and despite the sun rising for now, some clouds in the sky menace with more white blessing to fall upon your shoulders very soon.

Those little mountain streets around the Alps are wonderful, they surround mountains going up and down and in a spiral way. But those are wonderful, as long as you can drive a car with heating. And you don’t have one right now.

The crunchy sound of the snow beneath your boots mix with the melody of a glacial river running in between the mountain and the road. It is certainly beautiful, the little rocks and stones being bathed by such pure and cold water, the rests of dry leaves and some moss growing on an everlasting shadow casted by tall, enormous peaks. Everything is worth taking a picture, but you should prioritize your battery life this time around. The GPS is sometimes wonky, being that high can affect the service.

Many cars have passed by, but none of them have stopped. Little lorries carrying logs pass, cars completely drenched in dirty snow and that mix of salt that roads have during winters.

However, just when your hopes for finding someone to at least give you a ride to the next village were about to run out, the yellow shine of an old VW ban flashes before your eyes.

There, behind a curve -a very dangerous one if you ever went to the mountains- something smells like smoke and a tall man of white furry hat swears up to the skies.

You walk towards him, carefully. Who knows what is happening? Who knows who that man is capable of? There is one thing you are sure, however, and it is that this man is absolutely mad at his old van.

When peaking behind a dark wooden tree that’s now covered in spots of white snow, you discover the annoyed man is a young -handsome- one.

His van, a little rusty but still cute, seems to be having problems to keep going and the smoke coming from it shows it very well.

“Sir? Sir! Your van is catching fire!” you announce, realizing the smoke is indeed a very serious issue.

The guy of chocolate skin and tattooed hands turns around to look immediately at you and then to the back of the van. Those 70’s vehicles had actually their engines right in the back instead of the front.

And Indeed, you were right. Apparently the climb had been too tough for the poor old VW and its engine couldn’t take it any longer.

He quickly opens the back door, maybe searching for a fire extinguisher while you grab fistfuls of snow in an attempt to put down the incipient flames. Quickly enough, and with not many damages to count, the fire stops, and the only thing left is a big black spot on the back of the caravan.

“Thank you” he says, as dry as hopefully your socks. “No problem. What happened? Did the engine over heat?” you ask, curious despite his “I don’t want friends” face. “Yes; these hills are no joke. This never happened to my Polar, but there is always a first time…” he sighs, assessing the damage with a sad expression.

Apparently his van has a name; “Polar”. That’s very cute, and his eyes too. A golden shine in them looks even beautiful with the pristine white around. His tattoos do as well. You wonder about his name, and what is he doing on the road, but you are not sure if it’s proper to ask. However, he asks first.

“What are you doing here? do you have a car?” he mumbles, his voice is as attractive as he is. His eyes scan the place, but nothing catches his attention.

“No, I am actually hijacking. No one stopped so I started walking before the sun starts going down. I definitely got scammed; the Airbnb I was supposed to stay in didn’t, in fact, exist.

He grunts, almost silently. Apparently he is not happy with what happened to you but that’s it.

“Well, that’s so unsafe. I am sorry I can’t give you a ride right now. Apparently none of us have been blessed with good luck today” he says, walking around his vehicle with long legs covered in spotted jeans.

You nod. Your tongue is aching to ask about him, but you clearly catch the hint… he doesn’t want you there.

“Yep. Well, I wish you luck! I must keep going” “Same to you, be careful”

He doesn’t even look at you, something that makes you -somehow- very sad. In any case, you start walking away. There is no point in staying there… even if you have great mechanical skills that could help.

And as you do, you also have a very, very loud consciousness voice screaming at you on how could you leave him with no solution if you know it…

“Sir, you should check your water level…” you shout, a few meters away from him. The sound of your voice echoes in the huge natural immensity of the Alps and his golden eyes finally fall upon you.

He stops moving for some seconds, lost in you. You, as well, wait for him to say something else. Something like “stay with me” or “don’t go”. A total stranger you want to hang up with. A total unknown woman he wants to protect.

“You know how to fix this?” “I do…”

Or so that was what you thought.

No more than a couple of minutes took you to help him out. VW vans are noble machines; they are durable and easy to fix despite their particular design. And soon, as a part of your payment, the man that you learned is called Law and you drove away through intricate roads and huge snowflakes.

“Where are you going, (Name)-ya?” he asks, handing you an old cover from an old comic, Germa 66.

“I was supposed to stay for a couple of days in Bad Goisern, and then I thought of visiting Salzburg. I am on a long trip through Europe. What about you?” you ask, cuddling with the blanket. A certain blessing for your freezing hands.

He nods, checking the breaks before going down the hill.

“I am too. I just graduated medical school and I thought of taking a little vacation before my residency starts. I’m going to be a surgeon. A cardiac surgeon” he tells, full of dreams he fails to cover up behind a tough guy expression.

You celebrate his success, and the next couple of hours become a ping pong of questions and answers. A smile on your face that leaves your cheeks hurting accompanies you until the sun hides and the little lights on the mountains start to scatter.

You didn’t want to go down in the first village, nor the second, nor the third. Law, didn’t want you to go down his van either. You named Salzburg, and he promised you to take you there.

But the night found both of you, and apparently your mechanical skills weren’t as good as you thought the would… Polar decided to stop, in the middle of nowhere during a dark, very dark winter night.

You close your eyes as the sound of rusty gears fail and Law’s annoyance grows stronger than ever. When Polar finally loses all of the power, Law manages to agonizingly park on the side of the road and a huge sighs escapes his lips.

You peak through your left eye; his DEATH tattooed fingers squeeze the wheel, and you know he will snap at any moment. But he doesn’t…

“I’m sorry. I thought- I-“ you try to give a plausible apologize, even though you had nothing to do with it.

“No. It is not your fault… it is mine- As we didn’t stop, I have completely forgotten to fuel Polar up” Law says, absolutely mortified for such stupid mistake. Apparently you were enough distraction to keep him from the basics of road tripping.

You breath alleviated and try to stop your upcoming laughter. Your grimacing did nothing to hide it, and a big burst of laughter took over the van and everything around.

Law looks at you pissed, but a soft smirk garnishes his lips. You can’t stop, perhaps it isn’t that funny… but you feel so happy right now. And you have no idea why, since you are literally stranded in a very dark wood with temperatures below 0C and snow pooling on top of that van.

“Welp, it’s ok. We should wait until tomorrow, then” you say, knowing the risks. “You- you prefer spending the night in here? aren’t you afraid of dying?” he asks, surprised.

“I am, in fact, scared of dying. That’s why I know very well I can’t walk during a snowstorm in the middle of the night in the Alps. Plus, you are too sweet to be considered a threat” you joke, searching for some chocolate inside your backpack.

Law narrows his eyes, deepening his frown. Apparently being called “sweet” and “not a threat” is not something he enjoys.

“I could cut you open and took all of your organs out during the night” he says, serious as hell. “Go for it. Don’t forget to steal my heart, doctor” you laugh, taking your jacket off.

Law is flabbergasted; he has never confronted someone like you before… but he is beginning to like it now.

A bar of chocolate that you had kept in your backpack for too long lays too close to his nose. You shake it, offering its sweetness to him.

He takes it but doesn’t eat it. Instead, his hand gets pressed against the window behind you. Law has pinned you against the door of your side. He is not a very muscular man, but he is indeed very tall and lean… if he wanted, he could do anything to you.

Your eyes widen, big as the moon. You swallow, thinking maybe walking through the forest might be a safer option.

“L-Law… I- didn’t mean to-“ you tremble, asking yourself where did you put the Victorinox blade you bought in Switzerland… it should be enough to defend yourself, right?

You notice his chest is also tattooed as his clothes open just a little. His arms, are too. His scent, despite the danger, smells deliciously tempting…

“Don’t trust strangers that easily, (Name)-ya” he whispers, a few centimetres from your lips. Letting you go after and biting the chocolate bar as if nothing has just happened.

You remain there, frozen up with your eyes widen and your lips softly trembling. He is, in fact, very right. Law is indeed a stranger, after all.

When oxygen finally begins to reach your lungs and brain again, you move and blink the dry eyes away. Silently you sit back, properly. You aren’t able to say anything, somehow you have run out of words.

You squeeze the blanket he gave you, covering you as much as you could, making yourself as tiny as possible on that old leather seat.

“Are you ok?” he asks, so nonchalantly.

“Ye-yes, I’m… ok” you mumble back, almost sticking yourself to the passenger door. “Is it ok if I go to sleep? I’m tired”

Law nods, confused. Maybe he was just joking around, but it did scare you big time. He goes down the van and opens the back doors. You look at him disappearing in the darkness until a very little glimpse of silver light coming from the moon filters through the doors.

But, soon after, fairy lights illuminate the back allowing you to discover a very cozy space behind the front seats.

“I am glad I installed this independently from the fuel tank. I have a little power generator for the back. It’s not a hotel bed, but it does the job” he says, showing you a precarious mattress covering the entire floor of the vehicle.

You smile softly, it looks cozy and pretty. The walls are full of random posters and maps, and there is even an old picture of a younger Law with three more guys wearing fancy hats with something written in the snow. You take a closer look at it, to discover it says, “Pirates of Heart” and you giggle. What a peculiar gang name.

“Law, this is really cute. You even have a lot of blankets and cushions!” you chime, easing a little bit.

“My best friend Bepo decorated it for me, I only helped him with the lights” he says, a little embarrassed.

You jump right back, leaving your backpack in the front seat and forgetting everything for the moment. What a reckless lover girl.

“I am going to sleep in the front seat, don’t worry. Use as many blankets as you need” he informs you, closing the back doors and leaving you there. You most probably were to say “no, stay here” but you simply couldn’t.

After all, this tattooed doctor is a gentleman. Right?

You let yourself rest for a bit on that improvised bed, with your sight blurring while looking at the fairy lights. The scent of the blankets and pillows is the same as him, something you secretly enjoy without even knowing. You catch a glimpse of the reflection of him sitting in the front through the back windows, at how he takes his hat off revealing a dark shade of onyx spiky hair.

For the next half an hour, or maybe less, you both become silent. The only sounds are the huge slaps of snow falling from the sky against the van and the subtle whistle of the wind filtering through the doors.

It is cold, but it’s probably colder in the front as Law is only using his Germa 66 blanket to cover up…

“Law? Are you awake?” you ask, shyly.

“Mh? Yes... why?” he asks back, with not much emotion but a soft tremble on his voice. He is probably cold, very cold.

“I feel bad for you; you must be freezing. There is plenty of room back here, you could sleep here. It’s ok with me” you say, taking advantage of not being in front of him.

Law takes a few minutes to move, but he ultimately does. He hops to where you are and sits there crossing his long legs. He is not wearing his black leather boots, so you can see Sora’s socks.

“Cool socks” you say, sitting right in front of him watching his cheeks go blushed. “Here, cover up. You are freezing, doc”

Both of you cover up with heavy blankets and fall into the mattress at the same time, facing each other.

Maybe, it is too strong to deny it. The attraction is natural, and you both can’t stop it… Exactly like the wind and cold reaching your skins.

“I am still cold” you mumble.

“I read in one of my books that the best way to keep the warmth of our bodies is to share it… skin to skin” he whispers, unable to take his eyes away from your lips.

“Is that so?” you breathe, coming closer to his embrace, allowing his arms to surround your frame and your hips to join with the other’s.

His forehead slowly touches yours, the bridge of your noses do as well. Your fingers, playfully but slowly, crawl to the crook of his neck. While his, squeeze your waist with delicate dominance. A leg that snake into the other’s, crossing, tangling…

Lips coming closer, so close. Breaths warming up, going faster and bumpy. Hearts that indeed had been stolen, the first kiss of two strangers, meeting for the very first time like two snowflakes join while falling from an endless sky

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWill they continue their journey together? 🦢

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mmhcs · 5 months ago

Text

They've Got Chemistry!

Miguel O'Hara x Science-Lover!Reader

A/N: Big hearts and big brains.

Warnings: Long fic, Miguel is (sort of) bad/rusty at science, and, while I tried to make this as accurate as possible, I must admit that I'm not as well-versed in the sciences as I'd like to be (I'm trying, though!) and so some information may be incorrect (I apologize to any science lovers/studiers in advance!)

As a geneticist, Miguel is obviously well-versed in all branches of science. But he loves biology. He loves all branches but that's where it's at for him. There's just something so interesting about what two organisms can create and how certain things can be moved around for better or worse. He likes the foresight that comes with the study, how one can predict and prevent.

Due to his role within the Spider Society, Miguel has taken a special interest in molecular biology. His favorite part is seeing how a Spider-person's DNA structure changes after being bitten. His least favorite part is seeing the damage that can be done when a person who doesn't belong travels to another universe. From what he's concluded, DNA becomes damaged following exposure to another universe. He wishes he would have known that sooner.

When Miguel first sees you, it's at one of the many labs within the Spider Society. You're sitting at a table with Miles, helping him with his Physics homework. The first thing that comes to Miguel's mind is wow. Because you mean to tell him that you're pretty and smart? And you're a science fanatic like him? Most Spiders he works with a smart (even Peter B.), yes, but whenever he starts going into the specific details of what makes up the Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse, their eyes start to glaze over.

But you - you explain everything to Miles with evident eagerness. It makes Miguel want to go up and say something, pick your brain and have his own conversation with you.

"...Now, Miles, when you want to find the density, it's mass divided by volume—" "Could you please keep it down in here? I'm feeling the reverberation of your soundwaves in the next room," Miguel says as he casually strolls up to you and Miles. "Excuse me?" You watch as this big man saunters over to the two of you. "If we're being factual, the frequency that we're speaking at right now wouldn't even be enough to be picked up from behind the door of this room." Though almost unnoticeable, Miguel's false irritated demeanor falters at your words. It was a joke. He was joking. Nonetheless, he continues walking towards the table, stealing a chair and plopping down opposite to you. "Hey!" Miles yells, almost knocked out of his chair by Miguel's hasty actions. "Relax, kid, you're fine," he hisses before turning back to you. "Miguel O'Hara" —he extends his hand, hoping that his eagerness isn't evident—"and you are?"

He basically hijacks Miles's study session with you. And, while annoyed (because physics is way harder than it sounds), Miles finds great amusement in seeing Miguel get fact-checked back-to-back.

Following your "conversation", Miguel makes more of an effort to brush up on his knowledge of science. You made him realize that he's been neglecting so much of the scientific world in favor of work.

He totally doesn't use this as an excuse to spend more time around you, though. The reason why Miguel silently observes you as you work in the lab is because he has to make sure that you don't accidentally screw something up, not because he wants to get to know you more but he's nervous and afraid that he'll say something stupid.

Oddly enough, you also bring Miguel and Miles closer together. After noticing his behavior around you, Miles goes to him, hoping that he can offer some advice.

"Look, it's a crush—no biggie!" Miles says, lackadaisically waving a hand. "I get them all the time!" Miguel doesn't say anything, only looks down at Miles from his platform. "Hey, my Uncle Aaron always used to tell me that when you like someone, you go up to them, put your hand on their shoulder and say 'Hey' really smoothly. Gotta make your voice come out like mantequilla, y'know? Makes 'em go crazy—" "Get out." "Huh? What? But tío, I'm just trying to offer some advice man-to-man—" "Get. Out." Slightly defeated, Miles turns to head for the door, mouth scrunched into a tight knob. "And that's what you're having trouble with in Physics?" Miguel adds. "A baby could do those problems!" "Hey, you got three of them wrong!" Miles calls back.

When you two finally start dating, Miguel tries his best to be the smartest, most educated version of himself. He's constantly spitting out random scientific facts or calling you to do experiments with him. He wants to impress you.

As the leader of the Spider Society, it's very rare that Miguel asks for help. He doesn't even like calling for backup when he needs it. But whenever he's working on something or needs to be reminded of what correct term to use, he calls you. You're the only one allowed in the lab with him while he's working and you're the only one allowed to pitch and test new ideas. It's a great display of trust and vulnerability on Miguel's part, given out of his trust and love for you.

He even allows you to make jokes when he messes up.

Carefully, Miguel picks up a piece of potassium with a pair of tweezers. In front of him is a row of beakers, filled with everything from water to new, colorful concoctions that he'd mixed together. He studies the potassium and then eyes the row of beakers, deciding on which one to drop the sucker in. "Cariño, come look at this, porfa," Miguel says once he's decided. You swivel around in your chair to look back at him just as he drops the potassium into the beaker of water. Before you can say anything, sparks fizzle within the glass followed by two loud pops. Miguel remains frozen in place, both in embarrassment and disbelief. He meant to drop it in the beaker next to the water. It's only when you come up and peck him on his ear does Miguel finally snap out of his thoughts. "Was that deliberate or are you just excited to see me?" you ask with a chuckle.

While you're not a fan of Miguel staying late and overworking himself, sometimes you plan dates in the lab where you two do fun, non-work-related experiments. While it's not as good as having him home and resting, you take solace in the fact that he's taking a break from work to do something fun.

Miguel dedicates himself to learning more about your favorite branch of science. Whether it's chemistry, physics, or a subfield such as acoustics, you best believe that he's going to read every book, do every experiment with you, and make sure that he understands how to better relate to you.

Likewise, you and Miguel also do a lot of biology experiments together. Even if it's something as plain as extracting and comparing DNA from different fruits, he likes to hear you prattle off facts and make observations and hypotheses.

You also use "research experiments" such as "the effects of sleep and relaxation" in order to coax Miguel into taking care of himself.

Miguel's favorite cheesy joke to make is that you two are like protons and electrons because you're a beam of positivity in his life and he, like an electron, is insanely attracted to you.

Your late-night talks are both existential and logical as you discuss how the Web of Life and Destiny bought you two together and whether or not it's a canon event, you two were meant to be.

Overall, Miguel loves you. Not just how easy it is to get lost doing something he loves but just you in general. Your brain, knowledge, face, body, how you keep him on his toes and constantly inspire him to learn and relearn—he loves all of it. And he forever cherishes you.

A/N: Once again, so sorry about the length of this! If any science aficionados would be so kind as to share some links to videos, websites, etc. that help them to better understand science, that would be much appreciated! Hope y'all enjoyed!

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five-rivers · 5 months ago

Text

I wrote some more of On Obsession and Free Will, my fic where a ghost's Obsession is absolute and Danny's has been hijacked by Clockwork.

Enjoy!

#danny phantom #fic #my fic

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lloydskywalkers · 12 days ago

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Quick question, if you don't mind me asking, will there ever be more fics with Lloyd, Rachel and Brad? You don't have to answer if you don't want too. :)

ASDFG I do not mind at all omg my silly oc :'D I have...tentative plans for them depending on how november goes, but in the meantime i did have this one floating around?? reworked it a bit to fit the timeline but here's some shenanigans

(working title is "Lloyd and Brad clown-to-clown communicating: He’s the biggest mess of parental issues I’ve ever seen. Not me, though. I can fix him.")

also somewhat necessary reference for this fic:

There are probably better places to hang out than fifteen stories up the Ninjago City municipal building — or whatever this one is — and definitely better places to hang out than outside said building on a tiny wooden platform suspended by wires.

And yet here Rachel is, sitting on a hijacked window cleaner platform that Lloyd’s insisted is perfectly safe, while Brad goes out for awkward lunch with his awkward mom one awkward building over.

It’s not stalking if they’re doing their own thing. Which they are, thank you very much.

“Fat pink blob.”

“Close,” Rachel snorts.

“Kirby knock-off?”

“Hey, rude, Jigglypuff is unique,” she retorts.

“Jigglypuff,” Lloyd repeats, delighted. “That’s even better.”

Rachel waves the Pokémon card with an air of superiority. “Jigglypuff is a balloon Pokémon, normal and fairy type. It can lull enemies to sleep with its singing.”

“Is it related to the Clefairy one?” Lloyd asks, one leg swinging over the edge of the platform, as if there’s not a good fifteen stories of empty air beneath him.

“No, Pokémon aren’t related,” Rachel rolls her eyes. She pauses. “Well, I mean…I don’t know?”

“I thought you were the expert here.”

“I never said I was an expert on Pokémon genetics, cut me some slack.”

“Betrayed,” Lloyd sighs. “Next you’ll be telling me that Pikachu is a rat.”

“He’s not a rat, he’s a mouse, and I did tell you!”

“Pikachu is Pikachu! How can he be a mouse!”

“I can’t believe you’re still worked up about that,” Rachel huffs, propping her chin on her hands.

“It’s the principle of things,” Lloyd says. “I’m uneducated, or whatever you said. Cut me some slack.”

Rachel rolls her eyes. As offended as Lloyd’s been by Pikachu the mouse, distracting themselves with Pokémon education — which is necessary, Lloyd’s such an obvious Pokémon target audience — has been a decent success, if she says so herself.

So far, Lloyd’s been particularly fond of Charmander, his mouth quirking at the little fire-tailed creature. Rachel went ahead and gave him a Charmander and Squirtle pair, which successfully got a laugh from him. He’s also gone for Mimikyu—

“You would like that one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

And Greninja, of course—

“I’m legally obligated to, look at the name—”

“Basic, loser—”

But she hadn’t seen Skiploom or Misdreavus coming.

“They’re cute,” Lloyd says. “And Misdreavus looks like you. When you have bad ideas.”

“When I have bad ideas — hey!” Rachel sputters. “Well, that makes sense then, ‘cause Skiploom looks like you.”

“Why, ‘cause it’s green?” Lloyd scoffs. “You can do better than that.”

“Fine,” she huffs, shuffling through her binder. “You would be…Dragonair. Or — ooh, wait, here—”

“Wooper?!” Lloyd stares at the cartoony blue blob and its oversized head in consternation.

“It looks just like you,” she says, lips twitching. “Look at its happy little airhead smile—”

“It looks nothing like me!”

Lloyd’s laughing now though, his leg swinging back and forth enough to rock the platform. Rachel’s not normally one to be scared of heights, but her knuckles do turn somewhat white as she grips the cables.

The whole window-washer thing does make a little more sense, now, seeing how at ease he is up here.

Lloyd’s told her he took the window job because it was the only place in Ninjago he hasn’t caused enough significant structural damage to that would still hire him. The way he’d pulled them up this high without hesitating, though, she can’t help but wonder if there was more to it than that.

Lloyd’s the opposite of people scared of heights. Where others might shrink back in fear at the looming distance between them and the ground, Lloyd seems to come alive at it. Every gust of wind, the clear blue of the sky unfolding behind him, Lloyd breathes a little different — a little easier, a little lighter.

“He’s not really human, remember?” Brad had reminded her, once. “Well, okay, he’s part-human — but there’s the whole Oni and dragon thing, you know?”

Which makes sense, she guesses. If Lloyd’s part dragon, it’s no wonder he misses the sky.

“There are so many,” Lloyd says, as they flip through her collection. “And you don’t even have ‘em all?”

“Not nearly,” Rachel says. “There are a lot of rare cards, or ones that are super hard to get, rainbow versions and shiny versions and stuff.”

“Like Starfarer collector’s comics.”

“Yeah, pretty much, I guess. Make something shiny and it’s worth more.”

“You’re telling me,” Lloyd murmurs beneath his breath.

Rachel tilts her head, studying him. She’s been getting better at clocking those little remarks, now that she knows to look for them. Self-sabotaging slash self-deprecating moments, something him and Brad share in common.

“You can’t just like the basics, though,” she says. She’s not sure the story behind this one, so distraction’ll have to work, this time. “C’mon, pick a poison type or something.”

“I don’t even know what half the types are,” Lloyd huffs, but his expression eases as he flips through the plastic-sheathed pages. He pauses over her collection of ground types, tapping a card. “This one’s cool.”

“Oh,” Rachel says. “That’s Cubone. It’s one of my favorites, even though it’s a sad one.”

Lloyd stares at the pudgy, dinosaur-like creature. “Sad how? It’s cute.”

“Well, the skull it’s got on its head is, uh, its mom’s,” Rachel said. Lloyd’s head snaps up, expression wounded.

“What.”

“I said it was sad!” Rachel says. “It’s a lonely Pokémon.”

“They literally named it lonely?” Lloyd’s looking heartbroken by the second.

“Yeah, see, here—” In a totally smart and well thought-out move, Rachel hands him Cubone’s description.

“When the memory of its departed mother brings it to tears, its cries echo mournfully within the skull it wears on its head,” Lloyd reads. His voice grows quieter as he does, his eyes fixed on the tiny creature embossed on the card.

Stupid, thoughtless move, Rachel curses herself. Bad timing queen of the century—

There’s a reason they’re stalking Brad. There’s a reason they’re up this high, too.

It isn’t like she knows what went on at Darkley’s, not all of it. But it doesn’t take a genius to guess that whatever kind of parents decided to leave their kids there weren’t the best. Or the most present.

And she’d have to be really, really blind to miss the way Lloyd had gone stiff when Brad mentioned meeting up with his mother.

Lloyd looks down, to where Brad disappeared into the restaurant below.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” she murmurs, uselessly.

Lloyd looks away. He’s drawn a knee up to his chest now, his cheek squashed up against it as he draws little circles over Cubone’s picture.

“Brad said they get along, now,” he mutters. “That’s why they’re meeting up every month. To try and reconnect, or something.”

Rachel draws her own knees up to her chest, mimicking him. “That’s a good thing, right?”

Lloyd shrugs. He quickly shakes his head, amending, “No, you’re right. It’s a good thing. I’m being—”

He cuts off, looking out over the skyline.

“Selfish,” he murmurs. “Paranoid,” he adds, after a beat. “And unfair.”

“That’s a lot of lies to tell yourself.”

“Except they’re true.”

“Stoppit,” Rachel scowls. “Now you’re calling me a liar—”

“Brad’s getting to reconnect with his mom and it isn’t about me.”

“Okay, well—” Rachel huffs. “Brad’s not here. It’s you and me and a bunch of Pokémon cards, and you didn’t even know what Pokémon was, which is a crime, because your mom left you at hell school as a kid—”

“Wow, okay, she didn’t — look, it’s—”

“You’re allowed to be hurt.”

“Am I?” Lloyd throws his hands up in the air. “I’ve already made things a mess with my dad, I don’t need to go and ruin stuff with my mom of top of everything,” he says in a rush. “I mean, she tries her best, too. People should get second chances, obviously, and like — she had a good reason, and — and it’s stupid that I’m even feeling this way in the first place, just ‘cause Brad’s having a great time with his mom and actually managing to talk to his parents without blowing up and — and oh my god I need to learn how to filter.”

Rachel closes her mouth.

She’d figured that was coming. She might not be a Lloyd expert, but ever since the world ended in Ninjago City for the billionth time — growing purple crystals all over yourself out of nowhere sucked, by the way — he’s clearly been off. And when Brad had mentioned hanging out in the city after meeting up with his mom, Rachel had known very well she was kicking a hornet’s nest by inviting Lloyd.

Sometimes you gotta risk getting stung, though. To, uh…okay, turning into a bad metaphor here, but there’s a point.

Lloyd buries his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry,” he says, muffled. “I wanted to hang out, and have fun, and — I’m terrible at being friends.”

“Three lies, you’re out,” is all Rachel manages at first. She shakes her head, reorienting. “Well, okay, you went over like, six sentences ago, but besides the point.”

She shifts her leg free, so she can gently kick his own. “You’re not a bad friend,” she says. “We are having fun. Sometimes you talk about the heavy stuff with your friends, too. That’s all.”

“It’s also all I’ve been doing. We should, uh, talk about your day now, or something—”

“You listened to me talk about Pokémon for an hour straight,” she says, gently. “That was really cool. Brad only lets me get like, ten minutes of rambling in.”

“I liked listening to you,” Lloyd says, glancing at up at her. “Except for the part where you said I’m a Wooper.”

Rachel breathes a laugh. “You are. Look at his dumb little smile.”

Lloyd’s lips twitch, a pale imitation of the smile she knows, but it’s a win she’ll take.

“Have you ever thought about it?” she asks, hesitantly. “Talking to your…mom about things. How you feel. Actually feel.”

Lloyd’s face falls again, and he looks down to the tiny street below them.

“I dunno,” he mutters. “I’m not sure what I’d say.”

Rachel chews on the inside on her cheek. She thinks of her own mother, of her frightened eyes always watching doors. Thinks of old books hidden beneath her bed, well-worn pages her uncle had read before the shouting matches had started. Thinks of the sting of people who don’t come back, while you’re left spending every day hoping more than anything—

“Brad’s out.”

Rachel’s head snaps to follow Lloyd’s gaze down — way, way down — to where the tiny blob that’s Brad is stepping out of the restaurant.

Dragon eyes, she thinks.

Or Oni? Which would have the better eyesight, in theory—

“You ready?”

She glances up. It’s as if Lloyd’s taken a pencil and erased the heaviness from his expression by force — she’d never be able to tell, if she hadn’t seen it herself.

She has a thing or two to say about that, but they’re interrupted as her stomach drops at the wild grin that suddenly spreads across Lloyd’s face.

“You know, we could just go down the normal way.”

“And be boring?”

“How’d you even keep this job,” Rachel mutters, sitting square on the platform with her binder between her legs, wrapping her arms tight around the railing.

“I didn’t,” Lloyd grins. “Three-two-one-go—”

Half of Ninjago City probably hears Rachel’s screaming. The other half gets to hear Lloyd’s wild laughter as he lets the platform plummet, speeding toward the ground in a free-fall, just to grab the cables and slide them to a stop at the last minute.

“I hate you,” Rachel spits through mouthfuls of hair. Her fingers feel forever fused to the railings. “Hate. You.”

“It’s like a roller coaster,” Lloyd says happily, stepping down from the platform. He holds a hand out for her with a lopsided grin. “It was kinda fun, right?”

Rachel pushes herself up on shaky legs, grabbing his hand as she staggers off the platform.

“Kinda,” she manages. “Kinda fun. In a crazy, maniac, sort of—”

“I thought that screaming sounded familiar.”

Brad, who’s somehow gotten across the block in the time it took to plummet fifteen stories down the building, shakes his head at them both. He’s still dressed in his nerdy blazer, his hair all gelled back, but thankfully his mom’s nowhere to be seen.

“What screaming?” Rachel wheezes. “I didn’t hear any screaming.”

“She almost passed out,” Lloyd says, grinning at Brad.

For that complete and utter betrayal, Rachel kicks him in the shin. “Traitor, what the heck!”

“Ow, ow, I mean she was totally chill the whole time—”

“It’s too late now, you already tossed me under the bus!”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they could hear you seven streets over, anyways,” Brad says.

Rachel deflates. Lloyd pats her gingerly on the shoulder, then turns back to Brad. He hesitates, for a beat — as if scrambling for words — then asks, “How did things with your mother go?”

Brad barely manages to hide the face he makes. He’s lucky — it could pass as discomfort with the question, more so than who the question’s coming from.

“It was, uh,” Brad scratches the back of his head. “It was okay? Actually, I need to go say bye, so if you guys want to wait like, right here—”

The clacking sound of heels against the sidewalk draws near, and Brad stiffens.

“Brad, dear, I hadn’t finished — oh!”

Brad’s mother stops just behind him, her eyes wide. Brad’s expression twists, his arm halfway outstretched in an aborted attempt to hide Lloyd from her view.

A very failed attempt, unfortunately.

“You must be Lloyd Garmadon!” Brad’s mother says brightly. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long, your father’s diabolical work is simply exemplary—”

“Mom!” Brad hisses.

“O-oh, that is to say—” Mrs. Tudabone waves her hand. “I admire, how you’ve, ah, turned your life around for the greater good?”

“Um,” Lloyd says eloquently. He looks kind of like he does when a reporter corners him on the news, except like six times worse, because reporters usually know better than to bring up your father’s diabolical work right to his face — unless they want Nya to murder them on primetime television, or something.

“Hi, Mrs. Tudabone,” Rachel steps in. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Ah. Rachel.” Mrs. Tudabone’s smile grows tight. “Always a pleasure, being subjected to the one who got my son to stop achieving detention.”

“Which is a good thing,” Brad stresses.

“Mm-hm.” Mrs. Tudabone looks unconvinced. “What have you got there, dear? A binder full of disgustingly charitable ideas? More of that toxic—”

“Mom, please.” Brad looks as if he wants to throw himself from a bridge.

Rachel clutches her binder to her chest. “Nope! Just, uh, Pokémon.”

“I’m sure.” Mrs. Tudabone turns away from her, back to face Lloyd again. “I can’t believe Brad never introduced us, after all this time. You two were always so close, back at Darkley’s.”

The expressions on Lloyd and Brad’s faces would be comically hilarious, if they didn’t both look excruciatingly awkward.

“Between you and me,” Mrs. Tudabone leans in conspiratorially. “I think it’s ridiculous they expelled you. The son of Garmadon, kicked out? Unbelievable.”

Uh-oh. Rachel feels a little bit like she’s been landed in a soap opera, in the worst possible way.

“I mean, it was pretty believable,” Lloyd says, sounding a bit breathless. “It ended up being the best thing that ever happened to me, so. Uh.”

“Because we’re both good, upstanding people,” Brad grinds out. “Okay, mom? We’ve talked about this, like, a thousand times—”

“And I told you, Brad, you should have introduced Lloyd to us earlier,” she shakes her head. “I don’t believe a word of those headmasters, look what happened to them! I could’ve given you much better advice.”

“Well, that would’ve meant you had to show up once a year,” Brad’s mouth is set tightly. “Since, you know, I never really saw you, at all? Remember that part?”

“Oh, Brad, don’t do this again,” Mrs. Tudabone sighs. “You’re always overreacting about these things. Could you be a little less emotional? You did say you were old enough to make your own decisions now, after all.”

Brad flinches, just barely visible. Rachel’s opening her mouth, but Lloyd beats her to it.

“He’s not overreacting, are you serious?” Lloyd’s eyes are just a bit too wide, his breathing just a bit too fast. “You don’t get to tell him that when you abandoned him—”

Lloyd cuts off abruptly, the color sliding from his face like water. Brad gapes at him. Rachel, catching the way Lloyd’s breathing starts hitching and Brad’s mom seems to be faring little better, takes one for the team.

“It was great talking with you, Mrs. Tudabone,” she says brightly, grabbing Lloyd’s hand in her own. “Unfortunately I just dropped fifteen stories down a building and I’m about to throw up everywhere. Please excuse us.”

Tugging Lloyd with her, she proceeds to book it.

The harried voice and following footsteps let her know that Brad’s following, but Rachel’s too focused to catch what he’s saying.

Get rid of the people, get rid of the noise, cut environmental triggers—

She drags Lloyd into the back alley and releases his hand. Lloyd’s already sliding down, crouched over as he breathes raggedly, head held between his hands.

“Lloyd! Lloyd, where’d you—”

“Shh,” she hisses at Brad, crouching down next to Lloyd. “Yelling’s bad. Hey, Lloyd, you with us?”

He gives a reedy, whistling exhale.

“Had…better moments.”

“What are you talking about, this is a great moment,” Brad giggles half-hysterically, joining them on the aging concrete. “We’re just hanging out. On the ground, in an alleyway, where we’ll probably all get tetanus—”

“Zip it.”

Lloyd squeezes his eyes shut. “M’sorry,” he rasps.

Rachel makes a noise of not-quite-hidden exasperation, but Brad’s the one to speak up.

“Don’t do that,” he sighs. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

Lloyd makes a sound that could be a laugh, if it was the saddest, fakest laugh ever.

“I yelled at your mom.”

“That wasn’t even yelling,” Brad says. “I’ve said way worse. She’s said way worse, actually.”

Lloyd shakes his head, disappearing beneath his hair again. Like coaxing out a stubborn cat, Rachel holds her hand out, and Lloyd’s the one to grab it this time. Brad brings his hand down on top.

She stares at him. He winces.

“It’s only awkward if you say something.”

“Then why’d you say something,” Lloyd mutters.

“I didn’t wanna be left out.”

“Of the group panic attack?” Rachel says.

“Not a panic attack,” Lloyd says. “I’m fine.”

“You are so not fine,” Brad breathes out a laugh. Lloyd makes a muffled sound into his hands.

Shifting in place, Brad continues, his voice softer. “Hey, for what it’s worth,” he murmurs. “Thanks. For…saying something to her. That meant a lot.”

Lloyd looks up at him from between his fingers. His cheeks turn a dusty shade of pink — which is way better than the ashy grey color he’s been, so he’ll probably be fine, Rachel notes — before he abruptly stands up, shaking his head.

“Don’t thank me,” Lloyd says, looking a bit like a kicked dog. “I just — I didn’t help, really.”

“Lloyd—”

“Let’s get outta here, huh? This is kinda — kinda lame. Sorry.”

Brad stares at his back as Lloyd power-walks to the edge of the alleyway, his shoulders set in a rigid line. Rachel rises to her feet, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she tucks her binder beneath her elbow.

“You wanna bulldoze into this one, or should I?” she finally says.

Brad turns to her, his expression scrunching up. Upset, Rachel recognizes. At her.

“Why’d you invite him today?” Brad murmurs beneath his breath. “I didn’t want — I told you about the mom thing. I knew it was gonna end up hurting him and you invited him anyways."

Rachel looks down. “He wanted to come. Maybe he wants to work through his mom stuff like you are.”

“He never said anything like that.”

“No,” she says. “He didn’t say it, maybe. But his face did.”

Brad stares, from the lines of Lloyd’s back where he stands ahead of them, then to her again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means,” she glares. “Lloyd’s never gonna say what he wants. You gotta start reading between the lies.”

“You mean the lines?”

“I mean the lies. Start listening to what I say more too, huh?”

Brad’s expression grows muddled, and Rachel feels a pang of guilt. Lloyd’s not the only one with a mangled social radar, she reminds herself. Lloyd’s not the only one with a childhood of bad lessons and broken connections.

But oh, it’s frustrating sometimes, being friends with two people so hopelessly tangled up in their own emotions, while hopelessly denying those emotions exist in the first place.

She ignores the part of her that likes how easy that makes it, for her to slip by when she needs to.

Well, Lloyd might catch her. Like recognizing like, and all that.

In the meantime—

She draws up to Lloyd where he’s standing frozen, just where the shadow of the alleyway meets the bright sunlight of the street.

“Hey, knock knock,” she says. “Wanna come out of your brain, now?”

Lloyd jolts, coloring. “I’m not in my brain, I - I was just waiting for you guys, we can get going now that—”

“It’s okay to be mad at your mom,” she says.

Lloyd makes a wheezing sound. “I told you—”

“And being mad at Brad’s mom because you understand why it hurts doesn’t make defending him any less of a nice gesture,” she continues.

“Wha— what are you, my therapist?”

“No, you’re just stupid,” Rachel huffs. She shoots a glare at Brad as he trudges up next to them. “Both of you are.”

“You’re the biggest hypocrite I know,” Brad mutters.

“And you’re a dummy who should talk about your feelings!” She elbows Lloyd in the side. “Both of you! Please go off like that more often, you’re like two - two - bottle rockets, or something—”

“Bottle rockets?!”

“It’s okay to feel stuff, just feel it before you explode!”

“We’re getting weird looks,” Lloyd whispers.

“Oh no, you are not getting out of this just because of social norms—”

“Okay, okay, alright!” Brad throws his hands in the air. “Lloyd. You’re fine. I get mad too, so next time, let’s just — punch a wall, or something.”

“No,” Rachel glares at him. “That’s so bad for you! You’ll split your knuckles open and damage your fingers, and—”

“Okay, geez, we’ll punch a pillow or something, then.”

Lloyd gives a shaky laugh. Brad draws up closer, his outstretched hand freezing halfway there.

“Hey,” he finally says. “We…we got out, still. Nothing’s gonna change that. We made it that far. So if we just keep moving—”

He cuts off. Lloyd looks up, his expression softening, and Brad meets his eyes with something indecipherable written across his face.

Lloyd seems to get it, though.

“One awkward step at a time, huh,” he says.

Brad huffs. “Awkward about sums it up. Do you know how lunch went? I told my mom I liked escargot because I panicked and couldn’t think of anything else. Do you know what escargot is?”

“How do you know what that is?” Rachel blinks.

“Ditto?”

“It’s snails,” Brad grimaces. “It’s gross. I ate six snails while my mom asked me what I’d burned down for fun lately. Then she remembered I’m supposed to be good, and she panicked, and we sat there in silence for thirty minutes with six. Stupid. Snails.”

Lloyd’s hand is pressed over his mouth. Rachel bites the inside of her cheek desperately.

“Please laugh,” Brad says raggedly. “It’s funny.”

Rachel lets out a breath of laughter as Lloyd snickers quietly.

“Another awkward step down, I guess?”

“And it was terrible,” Brad complains. “Next time we hang out, let’s just go bowling or something, okay?”

“Can we do karaoke?”

“Absolutely not. I refuse to get humiliated like that again.”

“I think we should all go to group therapy together,” Rachel says.

This leaves both Lloyd and Brad sputtering, but the heavy weight hanging over their conversation has lifted, and Rachel will take what she can get.

But she’s also a bit petty, and would like the last word, so before Lloyd leaves for the monastery, she darts forward to tuck both the Cubone card and an accompanying Marowak card into the pocket of his gi.

Lloyd frowns, staring at the second card as he reads the description. A small smile breaks across his face, and he holds the card out to her.

“Call for Friend is an attack?”

“Fully redeemable, any time,” Rachel presses the card back into his hand.

“You got him into Pokémon?” Brad says. “Don’t do it, Lloyd, she’s blown half her savings hunting down those dumb shiny cards.”

Rachel elbows him. “The point being,” she says. “That you should call us more often. ‘Cause we wanna hang out with you.”

Lloyd looks up at them both, the card clutched tightly in his hands. He smiles, a bit crooked, but more genuine.

“You got it,” he murmurs.

“And next time, we won’t talk about moms at all,” Brad says.

“And we’ll all go get escargot and watch Brad cry.”

“Why do I tell you anything, I swear—”

Lloyd’s laughter is well-worth any dirty looks Brad sends her the entire way home.

#answered #my fic #oc posting #me and my 9000 thoughts about darkley's kids and their trauma #rachel is just here for fun. and pokemon

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