#pt: incoherent screaming

[inquisimer]

Laying my life down at the developers' and bioware's feet, this game is everything I could have hoped for and more and I've barely scratched the surface I-

Head in my hands, heart in my throat, sobbing screeching losing my mind!!!

It's everything. Thank you 😭😭😭

[harveybwabbit92]

Grocery girl: Ken Sato x reader Pt. 2

You were a delivery girl who was frequently dispatched to the famous baseball player's Ken Sato residence, you were a nobody that anyone hardly paid attention to, until you found the legendary baseball passed out on his front steps looking like hell, being a bit of worry wart you help him inside and that things took a HUGE turn when you find yourself playing mommy for a giant baby dragon....

Part 1

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It had been almost a month since that strange incident with Sato. R/n tried bury it in the back of her mind but it always seem to find it's way back to the surface, it also didn't help that he was the main topic on every news outlet or at every water cooler gossip R/n has accidentally eavesdropped on. Apparently things weren't going very well for Mr. Sato's career.

Heck, even Meimei seems to have lost her earlier admiration for the baseball player as the younger girl had stopped asking R/n about him and switched to swooning and gushing over some K-pop group she fell in love with to anyone that would listen; R/n included, but that's teenagers for you they loose interest in things too easily, not that Meimei's uncle AKA the Boss was complaining he was just happy the kid was taking her job seriously now! So was R/n cos that meant Meimei would stop following her around asking about Mr. Sato every time she got back from a delivery.

Speaking of...

R/n pulled into Mr. Sato's driveway it seemed like the usual drop off situation until R/n got out of the van and nearly dropped the box of groceries at the sight that waited for her outside, R/n had to take a minute for her brain register what she was looking at first.

She thought it was a dummy left outside, before realizing it was person passed out on the steps and not just any old person. "Mr. Sato!" R/n put the box down and ran over to the downed baseball player she rolled him over to get look at his face and winced. Cripes! he looked like he'd been dragged through hell and back again!

R/n quickly tried to rouse the knocked out Sato by shaking him but that did little other making him mumble incoherently, R/n then through great struggle managed to lift him up off the stairs and was stunned at how heavy the baseball player was as his weight damn near sent them both tumbling backwards!

But R/n managed to steady them both as she pretty much dragged his limp body up the stairs. "This would be so easy for me if you'd just wake up." R/n grunted as she readjusted Ken so she could knock on his door; Hopefully his assistant was here and she could take care of him.

However when the front door opened on it's own there was no one there waiting. R/n stared nervously into the seemingly empty house, she heard nary a creak or breeze as she reluctantly took a step inside and tried not to yelp when the door suddenly shut behind her leaving the house in almost complete darkness.

Then the thoughts started creeping in and for brief moment R/n wondered if this was all possibly all a ruse and that Mr Sato was secret serial kill and that strange noises she heard last time was screams of his last victim...After all, who would suspect the famous baseball payer?!

But then R/n's more rational side reasoned how that ridiculous that was! if there was a killer on the loose there would've been some kind of news about it. R/n calmed herself down and dragged Mr. Sato to the first couch she found before getting his abandoned groceries from outside, R/n went against policy and opened them, grabbing a bottle of water and a Melon pan from it.

She left them on the coffee table for when he wakes up and was going to leave Mr. Sato for his assistant to find, But then R/n felt something off...did the floor just vibrate? Her brows furrowed as her eyes looked up at the ceiling and saw the boxy looking chandelier was swaying around; R/n shook her head. No, it wasn't her business... She got ready to leave, but then the thoughts about Mr. Sato possibly being a covert serial killer came back with a vengeance and she thought if he was hiding someone could that vibration them calling for help?

Checking to make sure Mr. Sato was still sleeping R/n cautiously crouched down low and pressed her ear to the floor only to jumped back with a gasp when she heard the same wailing from a month ago echoing from the floor below, R/n stood up and looked around the house for a way downstairs and found her only option was the large glass elevator cos of course the rich boy's got an elevator.... R/n stepped in and looked for a control button only for the elevator start moving on it own.

R/n tried to duck down in poor attempt to hide herself as it got closer to the bottom floor when it finally stopped and the delivery girl cautiously peeked out to see; well, she expected some kind of blood soaked torture room to be waiting for her, instead her eyes widened in awe at her futuristic surroundings if this was a basement it was like one she'd never seen before! The thoughts about Mr. Sato being a serial killer were quickly replaced with him possibly being a superhero fanboy.

This whole place screamed 'Batcave' as R/n stepped out of the elevator and began to wander around she wondered how much this place cost the baseball player to build? While R/n was gawking she failed to notice the large shadow slowly rising up behind her until it was too late.

R/n looked down and slowly turned around looking up as did her awe struck face slowly contorting into fear as she stared up at the beast behind her and shuddered.

"I never knew the harbinger of death would be so... pink!" 

*hours later*

Ken is woken up to by the baby squealing and his alarms going off like crazy! He looked at the time 11 pm...Oh, he missed her 9pm feeding, he wondered Mina didn't wake him up? when he spotted the water and Melon pan on the coffee table and ate and drank those as he made his way to the elevator but it was already downstairs causing him to pause.

Ken's mind was still hazy from juggling everything he couldn't remember if he'd gone downstairs earlier and went outside through the airlock to get back up into the house? Or maybe Mina brought something downstairs for the baby to use?

The answer was the last thing Ken expected as he descended into his base to find the baby playing Daruma-san (statues/red light green light for us yanks) with Mina and...Ken choked on his food when he saw his grocery girl standing in the middle of his base in posed like Hamlet (she holding Mina in the Alas poor Yorick pose) She nearly fell over when she saw Mr. Sato gawking. "What the heck is going-Oh, nonono!" When then the baby noticed him and she immediately run up to Ken and picked him up much to his protest.

While this was going on R/n used this as her attempt to escape to the elevator only for Ken to notice her sneaking away and changed into Ultraman and block her path with his hand... R/n gasped as she looked up at the silver giant completely flabbergasted. "Okay, So not a serial killer." Now it was Ultraman's turn to be confused. "What?"

Cut to R/n trapped in her own containment chamber sitting down bored as she watches a frustrated Mr. Sato pacing around his base. "Y'know, You'll go bald if you keep tugging at your hair like that" she said with a sigh the baseball player ignored her as the delivery girl tried to readjusted herself in a more comfortable position but the tube was to narrow for her legs to properly stretch out. "Couldn't you have given me a bigger tube? this one's too cramped." Mr. Sato shot her a seething glare that shut R/n up as he walked up to her tube.

"Oh, I'm sorry, maybe you should've called ahead before breaking into my house!" He sneered The delivery just rolled her eyes. "For that last time, I didn't break in I found you outside..." Ken snorted obviously not believing her. "Hey you, floating eye lady" R/n called out to Mina who floated over to them. "Doesn't this place have cameras or something" Show this knuckle head I'm telling the truth." She said crossing her arms, while Ken barked a Mina not to listen her and wait for the cops, who were taking their sweet time getting here.

"The police are not coming because I haven't called them." Ken looked at the orb in disbelief. "What? why not?!" Mina played the footage from a few hours ago showing Ken staggering up his front steps and then dropping like a sack of potatoes 15 minutes later R/n's van pulled up showed her jumping and quickly checking Ken over before picking him carrying him inside, and showed how she got into his base.

"Told ya, if this is the thanks I get for helping; then maybe I should've left you there for the birds to crap on!"

"Okay, okay... but that still doesn't mean you're off the hook."

"Oh? what are you gonna do? keep me in this tube forever?"

"No, You going to help me...With her."

Mr. Sato points at the baby Kaiju in the tube next to R/n's who babble happily and waved when he pointed at her, R/n meanwhile got this shell shocked look on her face, she thought he was joking until R/n was free from the tube; but by the next morning found herself in a moving van with her belongs hastily stuffed inside headed back towards Mr. Sato's house.

{Bonus, how R/n ended up playing with Emi: 

R/n tried to back away from the pink dragon thing that was staring her down when it took a step near her, She gasped and instinctively covered her face...But, nothing happened? The delivery girl curiously peeked between her fingers and saw Pinky was staring at her; she put her hands down.

The monster moves again R/n throws her hands back up and the monster did the oddest thing it smiled while chirping and clapping at her. R/n was very obviously bewildered by it's strange behavior as she repeated same action a few times before something clicked in her head; Peek-a-Boo.... It's thinks R/n was playing Peek-a-boo with it . "You're just a baby, aren't you?" The Kaiju tilted it's head at R/n bemused.

*Ken Sato has a baby Kaiju in his basement...what the crap?!*

The delivery girl screamed mentally as the baby Kaju chirped and covered it's face with it's hands; R/n knew what it was doing and played along "Oh no, where'd the baby go?" The delivery girl pretended to look around while side eyeing the elevator which the baby was currently blocking, The kaiju pulled it's hands away from it's face as R/n cheered "Oop, there you are!~" the baby squealed excitedly as this floating eye-ball robot suddenly appeared and started asking questions.

R/n explained herself and promised that she wouldn't tell anyone about this if the eye would let her leave. However, as soon as R/n took a step towards the elevator... The baby started sniffling and tearing up causing the delivery girl to panic. "No, no, I'm not leaving I'm not leaving, I promise, I'll stay here!" R/n said petting it on the leg and not realizing just how true those words would end up being in a few hours.

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Cross posted on my A03/Squidgeworld/Wattpad.

[daydreamkissesxo]

Father Charlie x reader | sinner Pt 5; Too late to repent

Mentions of birth, manipulation, dark themes, swearing?

Your mother's persistent knocking and the fear that you would shriek loud enough for her to hear left Father Charlie panicked, though his hand remained firmly over your mouth in an impossible attempt to silence you.

"Father Charlie?! Are you alright?!" Your mother called out a little louder, aware that he was home as she'd watched him enter through the front door just seconds ago.

He knew prolonging the birth could cause complications for both you and the baby, he had little to no time to plan a reasonable explanation for your mother so his only option was to spin yet another web of lies.

Given the pain you were in, he felt no need to prepare you for his next move as whatever you could possibly say to your mother would only be seen as incoherent rambling.

He dropped his hand from your mouth, allowing you to finally take sufficient breaths to aid your pain and composure before rushing over to the front door and preparing a panicked front to greet your mother with.

He exaggerated his heavy breaths, forcing his hands to tremble as if he were fearful while widening his eyes as if he'd seen something truly frightening.

Your mother's eyes widened at the state Father Charlie was in, her eyes frantically looking him over before the sound of your desperate sobs forced her attention away.

"I'm sorry I couldn't call you sooner, I found her..s-she must have used the spare key to get in. I d-don't know what to do." He said, forcing his voice to tremble like the skilful manipulator he was.

Your mother's heart sank into a bottomless pit in her chest as she watched you writhe in pain, now all too aware of why you'd not been seen, the secret that you were desperately trying to hide.

She carelessly pushed past Father charlie to kneel beside you as he once did, ridding herself of her coat as she knew given the consistent pain you were in that your child's birth was imminent.

"It's okay sweetheart, mom's here. I'm going to help you." She reassured in a gentle tone, pushing aside her true feelings towards the situation for a later time as your wellbeing was her only current concern.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" You sobbed inconsolably, your hand patting the ground beside you in search of hers before successfully taking hold of it.

Father Charlie was almost amused by the fact your mother was so trusting of him that she didn't suspect anything, even when faced with questionable circumstances.

"Should I call an ambulance? I don't know how long she's been in this pain for, we don't know what her living situation has been. The child may be malnourished." Father Charlie said as he walked over, painting a picture that would undoubtedly cause concern with your mother while attempting to appear as an equally concerned citizen.

You weren't registering anything he'd said and he knew this, the pain and fear that spread throughout your body was the only thing occupying your mind.

"I don't think an ambulance will arrive on time." Your mother simply replied, positioning herself to kneel between your parted legs while placing a hand to your knee as she looked beneath the oversized shirt you'd conveniently wore that day.

"We need towels, and an old blanket if you have one." Your mother added, she appeared calm and collected though her mind was an utter mess.

Father Charlie was thankful to be relieved of the responsibility of delivery, it awarded him more time to carefully assess his next move despite it not being entirely necessary.

In the short few minutes it had taken him to retrieve some towels from the bathroom along with a blanket from his own bedroom, your labour had progressed to the pushing stage.

Your mother held your daughter's head while you tirelessly pushed the rest of her body out, your pain filled screams echoing throughout the house.

There was a brief moment of near silence, quickly interrupted by a high pitched cry that came from the little baby your mother held.

Father Charlie had just reached the bottom of the stairs in time to witness her birth yet he froze on the bottom step, clinging to the banister with his free hand as his knees threaten to buckle at the sight of her.

You were exhausted from the pain you'd just had to endure, barely able to support your own head never-mind a baby's so your mother didn't push for you to hold her.

Once steady on his feet, Father Charlie rushed over and placed the blanket beside your mother, taking a moment as he stood above her to admire the beautiful baby girl he'd waited nine long months to see.

"We need to get them both to a hospital." Your mother said, glancing up at father Charlie before reaching for the blanket to carefully wrap around your daughter, ensuring she was both warm and comfortable.

Once you'd undergone the necessary tests by a doctor and your mother saw that you were settled in your hospital bed, she felt it necessary to finally address how you'd ended up in the situation she was presented with at Father Charlie's home.

Father Charlie simply stood beside the bassinet where your beautiful baby girl lay asleep, admiring the life that the two of you had secretly created.

Your mother didn't see his presence as suspicious, she was secretly relieved to have someone of the church around at such difficult times, desperate to seek reassurance snd guidance.

"Y/N..I don't want to push you too hard right now given what you've just gone through but, I need to know what happened. I need to know who that little girls father is." Your mother said sternly, visibly hurt and somewhat ashamed by your secrecy and recklessness.

Father Charlie's harsh words appeared at the front of your mind almost instantly, how he'd once informed you of what may happen if the truth of your sexual relationship were to ever be exposed and it brought you nothing but immediate fear, you couldn't tell the truth and risk bringing him lifelong shame.

You couldn't bear to look at your mother, aware of the unimaginable shame you were about to inflict upon her with your carefully crafted lie.

"I don't know who her father is. I don't remember where we met, I was drunk.." you replied timidly, tears beginning to flood your waterline at even the thought of how she may react.

Father Charlie was visibly stunned as he stood behind your mother, he hadn't even needed to coach you any further into lying and it earned you a great deal of respect, he was relieved of any pressure going forward.

Several minutes of silence had passed as your mother attempted to process what she'd heard, Father Charlie could see how visibly upset you were and wanted to at least alleviate some of your pain.  

"Well thankfully the church doesn't discriminate against unwed mothers and their children, Y/N needs the support and guidance of our Lord and Saviour now more than ever." He reassured, flashing your mother a warm smile.

He knew she'd be desperate for your repentance, to avoid feeling like she'd failed you somehow by allowing you to be so shameless.

In your mother's eyes, Father Charlie was the one who'd found you in your hour of need and the respect she held for him was unimaginably high.

"Father, I am forever indebted to you. I will never forget what you have done for my family, for my daughter."

Father Charlie could simply smile, the phrasing of her words leaving him internally amused. Just what had he done for her daughter?

He simply nodded, placing a reassuring hand against her arm to show that he saw her no differently despite her own self criticism.

"Could I have a moment with Y/N? Perhaps she'll be more open to sharing with someone that isn't immediate family." He asked, hopeful that he could convince her to leave the room so the two of you could finally enjoy the arrival of your baby girl.

"I have to go and start preparing for her return home, and the baby's so..Please." She replied, smiling weakly in an attempt to hide the pain she undoubtedly felt.

Father Charlie waited for her to leave before taking a seat on the bed beside you, facing both you and the bassinet as he glanced down at his little girl.

He reached into the bassinet, curving his index finger to softly caress one of her plump cheeks with the side of it.

"She has your eyes. Hopefully she won't inherit your naivety." He said softly in a condescending tone, oblivious to the sudden look of confusion on your face as you finally turned to look at him.

"Naivety?" You asked in disbelief, already vulnerable due to exposure of your secret and the mixture of postpartum hormones.

"Yes. You're incredibly naive, a trait I hope our daughter won't have inherited."

He slowly leant forward, sliding a hand beneath your daughter's back while the other gently lifted her head enough for him to place the flat of his hand beneath.

He scooped her up into his arms and held her close to his chest as he resumed his seated position.

You watched the way he cradled her and it felt almost threatening given that you were now the only one facing deep shame and disappointment, if he were to take your daughter people would only see it as an act of kindness.

"Then, would it be naive to believe that you intended for all of this to happen? That you're getting a sick little thrill out of this?" You asked confidently, frustration evident in your voice as you stared at him coldly.

"No, that would be incredibly bright of you." He replied carelessly, not bothering to look up from your daughter as he was still taken back by the fact she'd finally arrived.

"I'm glad we're on the same page in regard to the situation. As long as you remain a member of the church, I can be of great help to you and our daughter." He spoke again in that condescending tone, one that made you nauseas as his mask was beginning to slip away.

"Why did you do this? Why did you force me to have this child if you were never going to take responsibility for her? For what we did?!" You exclaimed frustratedly, a flow of tears rolling down your cheek as your body began to shake with anger and confusion.

Father Charlie placed one of his hands against your daughter's ears as he lightly pressed her head against his chest to cover the other, holding her closer as if he were shielding her from an angry monster.

"For Christ's sake, don't raise your voice Y/N." He scolded, forcing you to believe you were once again the unreasonable one.

"I did this to save you."

He raised an eyebrow as you scoffed, your sudden boldness both amusing and a little terrifying as you were quite clearly slipping from beneath his mental grasp.

"Save me?" You asked in false amusement, truly taken back by his statement as his actions proved quite the opposite to what he'd supposedly intended.

"You were going to be married to a man you'd never love. You would have had children you'd secretly resent, a life that you'd pray not to wake up in the morning for." He claimed, his angered gaze finally meeting your cold one.

"You came to me, confessing how you'd tucked your pretty little fingers into yourself at the thought of me." He added, his words crass even with your daughter held close to him.

You turned your head away in growing discomfort, embarrassed that you had ever looked at Father charlie with such admiration, that you ever believed he felt the same way about you.

"You're right. I am naive, stupid in fact. I looked up to you, I admired you. I believed you were a good man with a big heart, that you truly cared for me. I'd have done anything for your approval, your attention..and even when I questioned your methods for keeping me prisoner in your home, I still believed you were only interested in doing what was right!" You yelled, lifting both of your hands to your face to hold it for a moment, attempting to recompose yourself as you were all too aware of how entertaining Father Charlie found your frustration.

However, Father Charlie did not find your admission amusing nor entertaining as your words were both wounding and upsetting, his real intentions were never as sinister as he'd carelessly allowed them to become.

Your confession that day was more than sexually motivated, you wanted to let him know how you felt about him and he was all too glad for it given his fondness for you.

Your muffled sobs filled Father charlie with overwhelming guilt, he didn't feel it was appropriate to even attempt to comfort you given how he'd just spoken to you, how he'd been treating you.

He knew earning your trust and rectifying his mistakes would be a long term commitment, one he was willing to make to support the family he'd intended to create.

"Your mother will want the two of you to stay with her and I think that's best, lying about where you live will only cause more suspicion. You can visit me any time and I will see the two of you at church." He said softly as he stood from the bed to gently place your daughter back down in her bassinet, using his extended index finger to gently tuck the blanket beneath her chin.

He expected no response from you just as you expected no apology from him, but he was determined to prove his worth as a father by first recognising his faults.

No words were said as he left, and while it pained you to know he was prepared to be a part time father to your daughter, you couldn't help but be thankful to no longer be under his spell.

Your co-parenting with Father Charlie was oddly successful despite the secrecy, he was so gentle with your daughter whenever the two of you would meet, often at his home away from prying eyes.

He truly cared for her, and was proud both as a priest and a Father when he'd finally got to baptise her once she was just a few weeks old.

Your return to the church was met with animosity and anger, the mothers that once hounded you for marriage now stared at you with discomfort and disgust.

Your repentance was the motivation to keep consistently attending regardless of who may stare, your mother was also disgraced though she was far less resilient and often didn't want to attend.

While it may have been uncomfortable to witness, Father Charlie was at least pleased to no longer have to hear about the possibility of marriage for you, he felt he'd done something good.

On the rare occasions that your daughter did attend mass with you, the stares and whispers amongst families infuriated him, especially as he knew the shameful secrets most of them were harbouring.

Father Charlie often interacted with your daughter during mass, wanting others to look at the beautiful blessing that was gifted to the world thanks to your union.

It was during Sunday mass one morning that he'd noticed one woman in particular directing a cold stare at your daughter as she fussed in your arms, and if he hadn't of been in the middle of a prayer he'd have definitely confronted her about it.

Instead, he simply stepped down from the alter and walked down the aisle before stopping beside you to take the fussing baby from your arms, cradling her close to pacify her while continuing his prayer.

He glanced over at the woman once passing, smiling with amusement as she bowed her head shamelessly, aware that he saw the judgemental glare.

Once finished with his prayer, Father charlie was confronted with several pairs of watchful eyes, all confused as to why he was holding the baby of a sinner.

He knew how uncomfortable you felt each week, even more so when your mother refused to attend out of her own shame but the way people looked at your daughter unaware that she was also his made him just as uncomfortable.

"Perhaps we have all forgotten that God is the only one who can cast judgement." He said somewhat calmly, his eyes meeting those of the women who were carelessly unkind as he walked back towards the alter.

"A child is a gift, one we should nurture and guide. It is not up to us to judge the affairs of the child's mother nor should we treat them any differently." He added, facing the parishioners once he'd reached the alter.

While you appreciated his attempt to address the issue, it failed to make you feel any less uncomfortable as it now brought even more attention towards you.

Your daughter had noticeably stopped fussing as she snuggled into her father's arms, you could only wish to find such comfort in those very same arms.

Once mass had ended, you swiftly left church with your daughter and headed towards the car park, Father charlie waited for the last of the parishioners to leave before following after you.

You carefully placed your daughter into her car seat, adjusting the safety straps once you'd gently pulled her arms through.

"Y/N?" Father Charlie called out, walking over before placing a hand against the car door as he stood beside you.

"I..I have something for you."

His voice was oddly timid, he'd had time to admit his faults to himself but now he wanted to admit them to you.

You stood up from your slightly hunched position, turning to face him before glancing down at his hand as he retrieved something from his pocket, you'd stupidly believed it would be a knife.

In his palm he held a small silver necklace with a dainty cross pendant attached, he glanced up at you with hopeful eyes as he extended his hand for you to take his offering.

You admired it for a moment but remained hesitant to take it, instead closing the car door which then forced him to drop his hand from it.

"I can't do this." You coldly reply, lifting a hand to gently push his back towards him despite feeling the resistance.

"No grand speeches or gestures will undo the damage. Please, don't insult me with an insincere apology."

His eyes widened at your instant rejection, barely able to prepare a response as he watched you walk around to the drivers side of the car.

He fearfully chased after you, his hand reaching for the opened door as he watched you get in.

"Y/N please. Please! Please don't walk away from me." He begged desperately, his eyes glistening with tears as he feared the coldness in your voice, worried that you may never feel for him what you once felt.

"No, no I can't take this anymore!" You exclaimed as you turned to look at him, your cold gaze immediately meeting his fearful one.

"Everybody looks at you like a saint! You don't have to take a deep breath before walking into church, you don't have to wonder what people think when they look at you! What they think when they look at your daughter!" You add, your hands visibly shaking with anger as you take hold of your steering wheel, your waterline flooded with tears.

"I don't, I know. But a life without you and our daughter isn't a life at all! I want to make things right, please!" He pleaded once more, tightening his grip on the doorframe as you showed not an ounce of consideration for his desperate state.

Of course you were conflicted, the man you longed to be with was ready to take responsibility for the hurt he'd caused, but you just couldn't trust him enough.

One of your hands reached for the door handle, there was a struggle to close it as father Charlie fought to hold it open but somehow it had successfully closed just a few seconds later and you'd managed to lock the doors in just enough time to prevent him from opening it once more.

Father Charlie desperately beat at the window, unbothered that his fist may break through the glass from the force he was using.

"Y/N! Open the door! Open the fucking door!!" He screamed, frantically looking between you and his daughter in the backseat as he worried it may be the last time he would see her.

Your shaking hand turned the key in the ignition to start the car, attempting to drown out his voice as you were almost certain you'd cave in had you heard it for just a second longer.

Your foot pressed against the peddle, your free hand reaching for the gearstick as you put the car into reverse before speeding backwards which forced Father Charlie to stumble back at risk of being knocked over.

"Y/N! Y/N! Don't do this!! Please!!"

He pathetically ran after you as your car drove out of the car park but stopped once he'd reached the main road and your car had reached a speed limit he could no longer compete with.

He stood frozen with his hands holding his face, staring blankly down the highway as he attempted to process everything that had just happened.

Your determination to leave left him wondering whether he'd ever see his daughter again and as he'd unknowingly taught you how to live off grid during your time at his home, he wondered whether it would ever be possible to find you both.

Taglist; @targaryenswhxre @psychocitylights @yoongling (sorry if I’ve missed anyone, if you’d like to be tagged in part 6 lmk🫶🏼)

[eyesxxyou]

Backstage show

★🎸 {} .. hobie brown x groupie!reader

rating. m

word count. 5k

synopsis. you finally get to meet your favorite band and the lead vocalist takes a liking to you. He decides he shouldn't keep such a beauty to himself.

or

hobie fucks you in front of his bandmates

🍒・．❕warnings. exhibitionalism (sex in front of bandmates), p in v sex, unprotected sex not advised, clothed sex, oral (m receiving) drinking, smoking, save a horse ride a cowboy, public sex, hobie has a bit of a god complex, y/n is a group who'd do anything for her idol, bit of a power dynamic fr, this is a bit toxic but gets sweet at the end y'all so hold on

Backstage Show pt.2

This was your dream. Ever since coming across a small underground punk rock band, The Mary Janes, you've dreamed of attending one of their concerts. Now you were here, your body pressed up against the side of the stage of the small venue, so close to your idols you thought you might faint. Your body was clad in leather, from your skin-tight skirt to the oversized jacket you had draped over your shoulders. Your shirt was torn, black, lacy bra exposed, a beg for attention really.

All of the members of the band were attractive and all had their individual groupies but by far the fan favorite was Hobie-fucking-Brown. Lead singer and bass guitarist. A tall, lean fellow with the most beautiful voice you've ever heard in your life. He was a charmer, a flirt, known for giving the occasion groupie a chance and the night of their life or dating one from time to time.

Your hands grabbed at the edge of the stage as the lights dimmed and everyone in the building began to scream including you. It grew even louder when the band came on stage, the girl next to you was screaming her head off, hoping to grab the attention of Hobie as the thick soles of his boots made the very stage vibrate under your hands.

You stopped screaming when you saw him. Your breath simply stolen away from you but you supposed that might just be the people behind you pressing as they tried to get as close to Hobie as possible. He was breathtaking. All his features were so sharp, from his cheekbones to his liner-framed eyes. You liked the lean muscle of his body, the way his spiked armband pressed into the muscle, how his torn up, sleeveless crop top revealed the valley of his abs and low-waisted pants revealed his happy trail.

You obsessed over the way he smirked at the crowd and sent them absolutely buck wild. He grabbed his microphone and adjusted it, raising it to his height so he could speak into it comfortably. "'Ow's er'ryone doin' t'night?" His accent is thick but not aggressive to the ears nor incoherent. The crowd goes absolutely wild including you, you scream until your voice is raw, hoping that maybe those pretty eyes of his will land on you.

"Er'ryone lookin' good t'night." His eyes scan over the crowd, making their way back to front, side to side. Then Hobie’s eyes landed on you, in all your fishnet, leather, and spiked collar glory. He paused for a moment, his tongue dragging across his pierced lips before the corner curled into a smirk. “Some lookin’ real good.”

And from then on, he had his attention on you. Sure, he certainly had everyone in the room on a leash and the few people in the front were able to hold hands with him for a few milliseconds and get a few acknowledging glances. But he made it clear that you were the one on his mind. He bent down and caressed your face with his silver decorated fingers while singing before moving on.

You grabbed your polaroid camera you had hanging off your side like a bag, using it to snap pictures of what you could only describe as the best day of your life. Everytime Hobie neared, another picture was taken and printed out on the spot. You barely let them develop before placing them in your bag.

Hobie noticed this and came back to you, sitting down with his legs hanging off the edge of the stage, pressed against your chest. “You havin’ a good time, luv?” He asked as his band began to play the intro to the next song. You were so mesmerized, so starstruck, that you couldn’t even formulate words. You didn’t trust yourself to speak because you knew if you tried, you’d say something stupid like you’re in love with him, you’d do anything for him. So you nod like you’re completely braindead, fawning over him. 

“Might I see ya camera?” He pointed to the device in your hand and immediately, you handed it to him without thought. You melt when he grabs you by the back of the head and pulls you in. Hobie kissed you, his tongue pressed against the seam of your lips. It was a moment you never thought would ever happen to you. His lips were on yours and you knew this was your chance.

You kissed him back and let him slip his tongue past your lips. His tongue pressed against yours, a little ball piercing meeting the soft flesh of your tongue. With a little bit more confidence, you grabbed his shirt, slid your hands up his collared neck, felt his skin because you might never get to have this chance again.

He took this chance to snap a picture of the two of you kissing, letting it print out as he placed it back between your hands.

“Hobie! Stop fuckin’ around an get up here, mate!” His drummer called from across the stage with a hint of impatience. Hobie broke away from you with an annoyed sigh as he glanced back over his shoulder for just a moment. When he looked back at you, he offered one of his pearly white smiles. “You min’ stickin’ around aft’a the show fa me, luv?”

You nod, still not trusting yourself to say the right words just yet. Hobie pecks your lips, a goodbye kiss with the promise to see you again soon, before he stands and grabs ahold of his guitar to finish the show. You swore, if you weren’t in love before, you definitely are now. You were in love with the way he drew all attention to himself without even trying, so confident because he had nothing to prove. Undeniably sexy in every single way,

So once the show came to a close and the crowd slowly dispersed across the venue, most finding themselves at the bar for a drink. At first, you had no idea where Hobie was. The place was absolutely packed and the thought of anyone being able to take a single step without bumping into someone else was laughable. But it soon became clear when people began flocking in one direction, girls screaming out his name as he came around, asking for autographs on any part of their body they had to offer and he was happy to oblige. He went around signing people’s chests just above their tits and the bottom of their backs like his name was their tramp stamp.

He saw you between the swaths of people and smiled, wading himself between people to get to you. “There ya are, luv. Been lookin’ fa you.” Hobie tossed an arm over your shoulders and pulled you into the side of his body. He smelled of sweat and the musk of his cologne and you thought you might just cum from the smell alone. You looked up at his towering stature as he greeted other fans. His jawline was sharp, adam’s apple prominent in his throat, his lips thick and kissable.

Hobie looked back down at you. “You wanna go backstage wit’ me and my mates?” A long, slender finger came and wrapped around a single one of your braids. He was so charming, so easily able to persuade those around him to listen to him. He made those around him feel like they’ve known him for years, like you’ve spent your whole life together. 

Finally, you were confident enough to stop acting like you didn’t have a lick of intelligence. You slid your arm around his waist to return the same kindness of intimate closeness. “Of course.”

Hobie raised his pierced brows in slight surprise. “So you speak.” He teased you lightly, placing his hand on top of yours as you held his waist and pulled you closer. He began to lead you towards a door that led to backstage.”Wha’s ya name, doll?” He leaned in to you so he could hear you better as you say, “Y/N.”

He hummed softly. “Suits you. Pretty name fo a pretty girl.” He kicked open the door so he didn’t have to let do of you. He kicked the door closed behind him, making sure it was closed al the way before bringing you around a few short, winding halls until you reached their little hangout spot. All three others of his band were already lounging about, feet kicked up, with some bottles of whiskey and a joint being passed between them. The room smelled heavily of weed and booze but the aggressiveness of it didn’t bother you. You’ve spent your entire life in environments like this.

“Yo er’ryone, this is Y/N.” Hobie introduced you, finally letting you go once you were in an environment he was more comfortable in. They all nodded and greeted you cooly, probably already high. They were all friendly, complimenting you on your outfit or telling you they thought you were pretty in a way that didn’t make you feel uncomfortable while Hobie went to sit down in a dingy recliner next to a messy coffee table.

“Com’ere, pretty girl.” Hobie motioned you over to him and without hesitation you came, placing your things down on the table. He grabbed a bottle of liquor from the table and took a large swing of it as he grabbed your hand gently and pulled you into his lap. His hand was on your thigh, fingers slipping beneath the webbing of your fishnets. God, he was so sexy looking up at you like that. The way he gripped your thigh already had you growing wet at the thought of his fingers sliding beneath your skirt.

“Gotta be ‘bout the prettiest girl I done ever seen. Right boys?” He doesn’t look over the side of his recliner at them, just takes another swing of his bottle while staring up at you with eyes telling you exactly what he’s imagining now. You’re imagining the exact same.

They all agree with various sounds of approval, knowing not to tread too much on Hobie's obviously marked territory.

You shift in his lap, the wetness between your thighs growing evermore uncomfortable. Hobie leans forward and begins kissing along the side of your neck, his hand still possessively gripping your thigh. His lips graze your supple skin so lightly it sends shivers through every nerve in your body. "Hobie."

"This can stop. You just say the word." He made sure to let you know that you had no obligation to do anything with him. You appreciated the gesture but you would do anything short of murder for him. This was a moment you've been dreaming of for so long, you were scared that this very moment right here was a figment of your delusional imagination and you'd be waking up in your bed any second now.

But his lips kissing you was very real, his hand stroking your hip now was the realest thing in your world right now.

“You wanna drink, luv?” Hobie asked you, shaking the bottle in front of you. You were never much of a drinker but you didn’t mind a few sips here and there and you were sure you’d need some liquid courage for a moment like this. You reached out for the bottle but Hobie quickly pulled it out of your range and clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Lemme do it. Get on ya knees fa me, doll.”

You don’t even think about refusing. Not an ounce of hesitation plagues you as you slide off of his lap and onto the floor in front of him. You get on your knees, leaning forward, back arched as you positioned yourself between Hobie’s legs. You thought you were probably flashing your panties to his bandmates but you didn’t care. How could you when Hobie drabbed your chin with those beautiful fingers of his, nails painted a solid black. “Open ya mouf.”

You do so. You part your lips and let your jaw hang open as he tips the bottle against your lips and lets the bitter liquid pour down your throat. He’s sure not to give you too much so you won’t choke. You close your mouth and swallow, looking up at Hobie through hooded eyes and long lashes.

“Go’ myself a good girl, didn’t I?” Hobie pet your head as you placed it on his thigh much like a pet who worships their owner. “You’d do anythin’ fo me, wouldn’t you?” He asks because he knows that you’ll undoubtedly say yes. You love the way he pushes your hair out of your face to get a better view of you as you look up at him like he’s more than just a man.

‘You’d do anything for your god too, wouldn’t you?” You ask him, making it very clear how you saw him and that there was very little you wouldn’t do for him. He was your god, your religion, your everything. You were a devout disciple, on your knees ready to worship.

Hobie smiled at your words. He liked you, knew from the moment he saw you that you’d be entirely worth his while. “Why don’t you show me how much you love ya god then.” He relaxed into his chair, slouching as he took another sip. His hand was in your hair, pulling you closer to the growing bulge in his pants. “Would you like to be the sta’ fo a bit, put on a lil’ show fo the rest of us?”

You glance behind you at his bandmates, all of them staring at you, waiting to see where this would all go. When you look back, Hobie’s staring at you with a raise brow. A question. Do you wanna? I won’t make you, luv. You drag your tongue over your lips, wiped clean of your lipgloss from his kiss earlier. You bit your lip and reached towards his belt to undo it. How could you turn down a moment like this? The thought of them all sitting there watching as you suck off their leader made your pussy tremble. You’ve always played with the idea of people watching. Tonight had to be a dream.

You undid the buckle of his belt and pulled it from its slot before moving into his pants. Hobie assured you to take your time as you reached into his pants and pulled him out of his restraints. He was already half hard in your hand, weighing heavy against your palm as blood rushed into the appendage.

You wet your lips again as you began to stroke him. Your delicate fingers wrapping around and pulling at the smooth, satin skin of his cock. He had to have the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen, nice, long, and veiny with a Prince Albert’s piercing sitting pretty and shiny at the tip of his cock. You salivated at the sight of it as it grew harder in your hand. You bite your lip and glance up at Hobie who’s already smiling at you. “Like what ya see?” You love what you see, wanted him to shove it down your throat.

Hobie takes over for you, grabs his cock and jerks it a little harder. Little beads of pearly precum dripped from his slit and rolled down the underside of his cock before meeting his hand. He takes his time, staring at you and that pretty face of yours that caught his attention in the beginning.

He tapped his length against your cheeks in a way that was almost degrading but you leaned into it, stared into his eyes as his bottom lip caught on his teeth. You let him smear his precum across your plush lips before parting them to let him drack his tip against your tongue.

“Got yourself a proper lil’ slut, didn’t you Hobes?” One of the other band members chuckle as you part your lips further and stick out your tongue. The others laugh with him including Hobie who takes up your hair in a makeshift ponytail and presses your head down, sliding his cock into your mouth as far as you could take him. “Gotta nice lil’ wet patch on ‘er panties.”

You found a guilty pleasure in the way they talked about you like you weren’t even there, an object of pleasure. Hobie used your mouth as his own personal toy, controlling the way your head moved up and down his cock, pressing to your limit, until you’re gagging and choking on him. He slapped your cheek lightly. “Eyes up here sweet’art.” You look up at him, eyes swelling with tears each time his length slid down your throat and triggered your gag reflex.

His head hell back against the cushion of his chair as he moaned lowly, “Relax tha’ throa’, doll.” His eyes never left yours no matter how good that pretty little mouth of yours made him feel. Hobie let his own mouth fall open as you took him in down to the hilt, your nose pressed to his pelvis. “Gooood fuckin’ girl.” He holds your right where you are, watching with a sadistic smile as you gagged. Your hands gripped his thighs to brace yourself, tears streaking your cheeks.

Hobie let you go after a few seconds and you fall back, panting for air with your lips slicked with saliva. The moment you caught your breath, you had your lips wrapped around him again, bobbing your head with an eagerness to please, to put on that show he was talking about. You are your back more, the outline of your pussy revealed behind your panties for his bandmates to gaze at.

“Keep goin’ jus’ like tha’.” Hobie was practically falling apart beneath you, his breathing hitching and his eyes barely open while he watched you take him down like a champ. “Fuck…ya killin’ me, doll.” His voice was breathy yet tireless and came out like a low rumble that only made you wetter. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ mad.”

But Hobie wasn’t ready to cum just yet as pretty as you’d look swallowing his cum. “Get on up fo me.” He pulled you back by your hair and you released him with a sticky pop of your lips. He made you to stand up between his knees and held you by the waist, his hands so large it made you seem small by comparison.

“Le’s put on a real performance.” He whispered to you with a smile that could only be described as devious. His hands were suddenly hiking up your tight little skirt to circle your waist, fingers between the netting of your stockings, tearing them open enough to create a whole right at your cunt. “Turn ‘round.” And you did, following every movement of his hands as they positioned your body. Until you were sitting on Hobie’s lap with your legs spread, feet on the armrests of his chair, panties pulled to the side so everything you held so dear was on display for his bandmates to oogle at.

Hobie wrapped an arm around your waist and used his free hand to slide his saliva-soaked cock between the equally soaked lips of your puffy little pussy that’s been screaming and begging to be fucked. You tremble as his piercing dragged across your sensitive little clit. “Already nice and wet. Din’t even needa touch ya.” He chuckled into the shell of your ear before kitten-licking it.

It was easy to slip in, hardly an resistance at all. You whimpered at the way he could so easily push that thick cock of his into you, at how he stretched your walls. You turned your face in some feeble attempt to hide yourself from the prying eyes of the men sitting on the couch across from you. They all watched intently, something predatory sparkling in their eyes at the sight of you.

“Uhn-uh, luv.” Hobie hissed out as he bucked his hips up into your little cunt that so eagerly accepted him. “Look at ‘em. Look at wha’ you’re doin’ to ‘em.” You turn your head to glance and find them all palming themselves through their pants. Shameful and embarrassed, you hide your face again and attempt to close your legs but before you can, Hobie’s are already pinning them apart, keeping you just how you are.

“Start bouncin’ then.” Hobie forces you to move your hips, rocking them against his cock as your greedy little pussy takes in more of him. He slaps your exposed pussy red and raw when you take too long to move, leaving you sensitive and teary-eyed. “I said start bouncin’, or are you stupid now?” His voice bites a little with a command but just between the two of you in a hushed whisper, “Jus’ tell me to stop if you don’ wanna go on, sweet’art.”

You shake his head at your offer, bracing yourself as you begin to flex your thighs and lift yourself up before dropping right back down on his cock. You let out a broken little moan as he plunges back in, the curve of his length pressing into your walls just right. That wonderful piercing of his only amplifies the pleasure. “Hobie~” You whine his name as he soothes his the rough pads of his fingers against your aching clit as a reward. “Keep goin’.”

You ride like your very life depends on it, crying out his name like he might be your only chance at salvation. You don’t care that your thighs are burning as you push them to their limits. You’re cock-hungry and everyone in the room knows it. The sound of your creamy, wet pussy being fucked and your whiny moans mingle with Hobie’s deep, guttaral ones. He hisses out his words like he’s barely holding on to sanity. “Bes’ fuckin cunt ‘ve had in a long time.”

And when you simply couldn’t keep going as you were, your legs exhausted from carrying up and down and back up again, Hobie grabbed you, held you up, and fucked you just like that. The way he fucked you was borderline cruel, abusive even. He bullied his cock into your pussy and played with your clit like the strings of his guitar, leaving you so wet that your thighs were slick with it. Skin clapped against skin, your faces’ shimmering with sweat.

“Pull up ya shirt… let’ em see your tits.” Hobie let out between breathless pants. You did just that, pulling up your shirt enough to let your breast free. They bounced with his harsh thrusts, the peaks of your nipples pebbling at the cold air coming in contact with them. You could tell they were all trying to restrain themselves, swallowing harshly at the sight of your near defiled body.

“H-Hobie…I’m– cumming!” You could feel it falling upon you much like a tsunami. It seized your body and held you, drowned you. Your pussy clamped down around him and trembled with it as Hobie played with your pussy and dragged you through it. It had no mercy on you, left you feeling dizzy and your mind foggy. Your back arched, muscles twitching against your will, and your pussy left white streaks of cream against his cock.

Hobie wasn’t done with you though. “Turn ‘round, doll.” You hardly even removed yourself from his cock as you turned around on his cock, now facing him. Instinctively, you began to ride him, your hands grasping his shirt for leverage as he leaned back and enjoyed the show for himself. 

“Lookin’ all pretty and fucked out, aren’t ya luv?” He reached across you towards the table for a joint. He placed it between his lips and grabbed a lighter to light it, still watching you as he took his first drag and tossed the lighter to the side. He loved the way your tits bounced in his face, the way there wasn’t a single thought in that pretty, empty head of yours. Like his mates said, a proper slut for him.

He blew the smoke into your face and slapped your ass before grabbing your waist. “Should keep ya ‘round. Nice way to relax after a show, yeah men?” Hobie looked at his mates already rubbing one out themselves, too sexually frustrated not to do anything. He took another drag and let out the smoke in a breathy moan. “Fuckin’ me up here, doll.” He gritted out while grinding his hips into you. “Migh’ haveta keep ya ‘round. Can’t get good pussy like this nowhere else.”

Hobie pulled you in to kiss you, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. You could still taste the remainder of your cherry lipgloss mingling with the alcohol and weed in his breath. You wondered if it was possible to sew two people’s lips together because you never wanted to stop kissing him ever again.

He began to smile into your kiss, a wicked idea coming to mind. “Lemme give you a autograph, luv. Get up and get on ya knees again.” You didn’t understand at first until you felt his cock twitch with the telltale signs of an orgasm on the horizon. So you got up, a string of cum leaving you two connected before breaking. You got on your knees again.

“Gotta nice pair o’ tits there.” Hobie wrapped his ringed fingers around his length and began violently jerking himself. You look at him, slick lips parting to speak. “Can you sign them for me?” You ask like one of his fangirls only hoping to get a moment like this one.

He held his joint between his fingers and sat up a bit more as his stomach tightened, abs revealing themselves even more. “How can I refuse a fan?” His brows furrowed with concentration as you push your chest forward in front of him, pressing them together with your hands.

Then his face relaxed all at once, his lips falling open with a single moan as he came. His cum came out in ribbons of white, landing on your chest in intervals as he twitched. Hobie was the prettiest when he came, every muscle in his face relaxing except his brows that seem to tense. You like how he coated your chest, how his cum rolled between the valley of your breasts as down your naval.

You felt owned now, possessed, marked. And you swore you’d never be able to have sex with another man again after tonight. You watched Hobie in utter admiration as he placed his joint back between his lips and reached back to the table to grab your camera. He snapped a picture of you. Your defiled body, your owned body, immortalized in a picture.

Hobie grabbed the picture as it printed out and waved it about through the air until it developed then placed it down on the table. “Come on, less get you cleaned up, doll.” He made himself decent before helping you up onto your shaky feet. He glanced at his mates as you two passed them, them all still wanking off, and he scoffed. “Pervs.”

“Fuck you, Hobes!”

He took you to the bathroom, used some wet paper towels to clean his come from your body and fix up your outfit as best as he could. “Sorry ‘bout the stockin’s, luv. I’ll buy ya new ones.” You didn’t expect him to be so sweet, no one has ever cleaned you up afterwards. Your face was hot as you looked at him. “Can I… have a second?” You asked softly.

“Yeah, ‘course.” Hobie shrugged, leaned down and kissed your cheek right at the corner of your lips. He offered a sly smile before leaving you to yourself to go back and joins his friends. You could hear him behind the door, “Could you wankas put ya…well…wankas away?”

You turn on the faucet and splash your face with cold water. You tell yourself that this isn’t real. You tell yourself you didn’t just have the best sex of your life with your idol. The more you splash your face, trying to wake yourself from thai dream that can only end in disappointment, the more you realize this isn’t some pathetic figment of your imagination.

When you come out of the bathroom, everyone’s hanging around. Hobie’s back in his chair with his joint and the polaroid he took in between his fingers. Your things were in his lap meaning you’d have to go to him to grab them.

He stands for you, putting out his joint in the ashtray much to the dismay of the others. He takes your things and brings them to you. “There ya go, sweet’art.” Your fingers brush when you grab them from him and he gives you the picture too. His eyes sparkle as he looks at you. “Hope to see you at our next gig.”

You think he must say that to all the fangirls he hooks up with. You’re nothing special you tell yourself. You glance at the other members wearily. “It was nice meeting you all.”

“You too, darlin’.” They’re all sweet despite watching you get fucked by their friend and jerking off to it. Do they do that kind of stuff often? Was this not an uncommon occurrence for them?

You’re almost humiliated as you leave, stalking towards the nearest exit to take a cab home. You look at the polaroid of yourself, on your knees with cum on your chest. You rub your thumb over it and when you shift it into your other hand to put it in your bag, you see ink smeared on your fingers.

Your brows furrowed and you flipped the photo to find a number scribbled down on the back. Your fingers smeared the ink but not enough to make it incomprehensible. All the numbers were clearly readable, carefully placed like he wanted to ensure you’d be able to read it.

You almost had a heart attack right then and there. There was absolutely no way he was just giving out his number to anyone who came across his path. This meant you were special, something out of his ordinary. You squealed, jumping right there on the cracked sidewalk, gaining the attention of those around you.

Holy Shit.

[livingddeadgirlrl]

nate jacobs smut pt 2 :>

(HELP JACOB IS SO FUCKING HOT I CANT DO THIS!!!!)

then, you heard a slight tinkling. it was his belt, he was taking it off. you started to get a little excited, your chest tightening slightly. he got on the bed right behind you, grabbed your forearms, placing them behind you on the small of your back, and started to wrap his belt around your wrists tightly. “nate stop- what’re you doing” you mumbled softly. he leaned his chest against your back, pressing his body weight into yours and leaning in close to your ear to whisper, “here’s what you’re gonna do. you’re gonna lay here and take my cock like the good little slut you are, got it?” you let out a soft little grunt and shifted slightly under his weight. “i said, got it?” he repeated, pulling on the belt now tightly wrapped around your wrists, pulling your back closer to his chest. you nodded very gently, leaning your head forward slightly, your hair draping over your face. nate was always very forceful with any girl he’d fuck. he always loved to be extremely dominant and always went after the pretty and dainty girls, which was why he was so interested in you. he pushed your front back down into your bed, pulled your hips up again, and pulled you closer to him. he gripped onto the belt around your wrists tightly to control you. in the time that he was doing god knows what when he got off of your bed, apparently he took off his pants and boxers. you wanted to turn around so badly to get just a glimpse of his perfect body, but he had you pressed face first into your sheets. he lined his cock up with your slick slit, tapped the head against your puffy clit a few times, and plunged his cock so deep inside of you, bottoming out. you let out a slight scream, trying to grip onto literally anything to stabilize yourself, but the belt was preventing you from doing just that. “slutty pussy’s so tight..” he mumbled out through a low grunt. he began to rock into you, his hips slapping your soft ass. you let out a soft whimper. his dick was even more than you ever imagined. it was so thick, visibly stretching your pretty pink pussy, and so long, you could feel it in your fucking stomach. all of a sudden, you saw a flash. you turned your head slightly to the side, your cheek still pressed against your sheets, pretty mouth opened wide, and saw. he was fucking filming this. you jerked your hands slightly in the belt, whining out softly. “come on doll, lemme have my fun. i need to save this for later, gonna look at it all the time,” he whispered out. you were already so fucked out, your eyes half lidded and lips slightly glossy with your drool, you couldn’t protest. he quickened the pace, his dick slamming into you with crazy strength. you let out another moan, pressing your face back into the sheets to muffle your sounds, hoping your brother and his other friends wouldn’t hear. wouldn’t hear the grunts coming from one of his best friends, the sound of your squelching and sopping wet cunt being pounded right now. in an instant, he pulled you up by your confined wrists, pulling your back into his chest. he moved his hand to now hold the phone in front of you, capturing all of your expressions. your now tear stained and mascara streaked cheeks, your dazed eyes- he used his other hand to forcefully pull down the top of your dress, freeing your tits. they bounced with the force of his thrusts, making a pretty scene. he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, letting out a low and breathy chuckle. then, he noticed something. “my my… wouldya look at this…” he trailed his free hand between your tits, down your stomach, and pressed softly. you let out a loud whimper at the feeling. you could feel him pressing against the outline of his thick cock, visible through your small stomach. “god… this is too good.. no way i can’t show the boys this,” he whispered in your ear.

you tried to object, only being able to let out a small mutter of a ‘no,’ mixed between your incoherent babbles. he took one last long glance at the sight, and then pushed you back into the sheets, reverting back into his old filming position. he gave your ass a firm slap, watching the faint red outline of his palm appear on your delicate skin. he gripped the skin, spreading it out so he could get a good look at your drenched cunt and cream, a white milky ring forming around the base of his cock. the sound of your sloppy pussy alone was making him go insane. with every stroke, he made sure to press into you as deep as he could, resulting in a loud and pretty moan from you along with a few more tears being squeezed out of your eyes. the coil in your stomach was so unbearably tight, the pressure was making your head spin. your body twitched a few times, jerking forward slightly each time you felt his tip hitting your cervix. you couldn’t take it anymore. your legs shook as you cried out, only making him chuckle more. you muttered his name through pleads, hoping he would let up on his pace slightly, but to no avail. he kept pounding his hips into your ass, moving the camera closer to capture your pussy covered in all your juices, still sucking in his cock. “fuck- i’m gonna cum” he muttered out, his eyes glued to your pussy. he pumped his length into you a few more times, his hips jerking forward and finally shooting his hot and thick load into you. he gave a few more slow and languid strokes, making sure he was filling you all the way up, not letting a single drop slip out. after a few moments, he pulled his cock out, his cum slowly dripping out of your slit in an extremely explicit manner. he put the camera back up to your pussy, scooping his cum with his index and middle finger, and pushing it back inside your sensitive pussy. you let out a little mewl at this, knowing you were not on birth control and of course he didn’t use a condom, but you let him do it anyway. he pulled his fingers out after he was satisfied with the result, and gave your ass another hard slap. he finally stopped videoing, the flash quickly turning off and holding it in his hand. he unbuckled the belt that was fastened so tightly on your wrists, revealing the soft marks on your skin. you stayed on the bed, slowly catching your breath, laying there, fully fucked out and feeling hazy. he pulled you up from your waist, having you sit up to face him. he turned on his phone again and pulled up the video, playing a short clip of it. you took a quick glance at it, looking away with flushed cheeks. “now, see this here? if you don’t want it getting leaked or mysteriously shared in the groupchat.. you’re gonna let me fuck you every time i’m over here, and imma be over here a lot. got it?” he stated matter of factly. your eyes widened slightly, but you knew he wasn’t kidding around. “i wanna hear you say you understand,” he added sternly. you nodded your head gently and let out a soft ‘mhm’ sound. he held your chin gently with his fingers, placing a light kiss on your cheek. “thanks for this, doll. see ya again tomorrow.” he then got up, quickly slid his pants back on and fastening his belt again, and walked out, phone in hand. he left his boxers on your floor. that bitch. he probably did that purposefully. a small reminder of him. something you could look at while you touched yourself to remind yourself of him. you knew you were in for one hell of an experience. your poor pussy was gonna be so tired.

[hunnylagoon]

Take Me to War

PT1 Friendly Fire

Streamer! Ellie Williams x reader

A writer, I think is someone who pays attention to the world. We are observers, it is in our nature to be off-putting and turn shallow things deep.

Premise: Your neighbour is becoming increasingly loud and you decide to do something about it.

PT 2 Here!

Two things I hate the most?

My neighbour and New York City.

They shared something in common, they never rest. I liked my quiet life in my small town until I was convinced that all of the greatest writers lived in the city, what a joke. I sold my virtue to move to New York and now my body burned with the shame of not belonging.

I worked as a journalist and in advertisement but it didn't fill the gaping mass that consumed me, I felt like a sellout so I quit to do freelance, and now I feel like even more of a sellout. Freelance is making me think that I hate ghostwriting more than I hate my neighbour and New York City.

It's like you do all of the work and get zero reward but I'm desperate to pay the bills and all that stuff I've been telling myself all my life 'I may never be a rich man but the rich man will never have me' well, the rich man most certainly had me. I was paid an almost criminal amount of money to pour my soul into art just for it to get stamped beneath a new name and make a gross income six times the size of what I sold it for.

I look for happiness everywhere but I do not find it. I search for it in things everyone seems to pry joy from; I go clubbing, walk in Central Park, and date around, but happiness doesn't seem to exist there for me.

I plead for it in my morning cups of tea with a spoonful of honey, the sunshine glittering in a puddle after a rainstorm, for a brief moment, it flickers in the light of my cinnamon-scented candle. The truth is I am almost comforted by my sadness and it is in my lowest moments that my creations are the most beautiful, it is like I am dead and I despise those who aren't for I enjoy the company of my silence more than anyone I have ever met.

It was my dream for my name to be above 'New York Times Best Selling Author' but instead, it is just my work beneath it and maybe that's why I'm so bitter.

Right now as I am trying to salvage the bits and pieces I was given by a washed-up pop star for her memoir my neighbour is screaming and laughing incoherently in their apartment, it makes me miss living in an actual house.

The noise usually started up when I would finish up my writing and get ready for bed, then it would go all the way through the night. The dumb fucker probably threw parties every single night; my roommate never faced an issue with this as she worked at a club and was usually working when the deafening noises would begin.

I on the other hand who lived in that apartment and worked from that apartment was always cursed to listen to the random thumps and spats of laughter that sounded all through the night. At least once a night when I'm sound asleep, I hear a bang against the wall and each time without fail, I'm brought awake with my heart thumping.

Trust me, I have retaliated.

On occasion when I'm sleep-deprived and at my absolute limit I'll bang on the walls, that only stops the noise for a minute. I've even complained to my landlord and that one week was heaven until it eased back to the clamour that I've almost grown used to.

Almost.

I still hate it.

I'm broken from my thoughts when my phone rings, it vibrates till it's almost at the edge of my desk and I feel for it; don't worry buddy, I wanna jump too. I read the caller ID and I almost wanted to gag, it was a woman from the publishing company who reached out to me and asked me to write Nicole Elliot's novel. Despite wanting to throw my phone against the wall to stop Noemi's constant checkups and get back at my neighbour while I'm at it, I answer the phone "Hey, Noemi!" I glance out the window where the winter sun has long set, leaving nothing but billboards, street lamps and neon signs to light up the New York night. Under the unforgiving lights I can barely make out the gentle snowfall.

"Hey," She draws it out and I can hear in her voice that she is smiling "I know it's a little late, just checking in, how is the draft coming along?" A loud thump sounds against my wall along with intolerant cackling "What's that?"

"Just some street noise," I dismiss "Anyways, the draft is coming along great, I'm a couple thousand words away from finishing it. I will of course send it to you and I would really love it if you could reach out to Nicole and ask for her opinion on it before I carry on with the final copy," I give a middle finger to my wall, even if my neighbour can't see me, it makes me feel a little bit more formidable "I did follow her outline, which was difficult but I think I salvaged it pretty well."

This time there is a yelp from my neighbour and what sounds like someone slamming their hands down onto a table, Noemi thankfully ignores it "You haven't been in touch with Nicole?"

My eyebrows furrow "She hasn't responded to any of my emails and she's been turning down all of our scheduled Zoom calls, so no, I have not been in touch with her."

"Weird," Noemi comments and there is a brief break of silence between us "She's been M.I.A on our end too," I could hear her scribble something down. "So can you get the draft to me by Friday?"

Two days? If I lock myself inside and don't see the sun then I totally can "Absolutely!" I do work better under a deadline.

"Great," She sounds almost relieved "We will hunt down Nicole, it would be nice to get her greenlight with this but whether or not she approves it, she has already signed off and it will be going to print."

"Okay," I fight the urge to respond with 'sick' or 'aight' because I'm an adult now and someone who is masquerading as a professional.

"Sorry, what was that you mentioned about an outline?" Noemi asks, she sounds more confused with each word "I wasn't aware Nicole made any-

She is swiftly cut off by a crash from the other side of my wall, when I say crash I mean it. It sounded like someone just bodied their car into drywall. My eyes went wide as I saw a crack splitting up my once pristine white wall. I hold my phone against my collarbone as I get up and pound my fist against the wall, giving it a kick for extra measure.

"Is everything alright?"

"Certainly," The nice thing about phone calls is that the person on the other end can't see your awkward habits or subtle outbursts (Or neighbours breaking through your shared wall). After I hit the wall, everything went silent for just a second before laughter sounded heavily from multiple people. "Noemi, thank you for sourcing me out to write this, I am really grateful for this opportunity I will send you that draft on Friday." I try to wrap up the call but she speaks up.

"Well, I've read your work and I was very impressed, I trust you will do well with this. Sorry to have called you so late-

"Thanks, have a nice night now!" I'm talking faster than I can even think, the only thing in my head is the fact that my neighbour is slowly deteriorating my wall.

"Wait-

Before Noemi can finish her sentence, I've hung up the phone. I'm leaning back in my cushy office chair, hands gripping my hair as I stare down the newly formed crack in the wall. I don't entirely like to be confrontational, even in school I hated drama, but I was beginning to think it was necessary.

I saved the progress I had made on the memoir and pushed myself up from my desk. I was clad in nothing more than a t-shirt and some plaid pants, it was my writing attire and in the moment I didn't care much to make a good first impression. It was fucking freezing the second I got up from my desk.

The moulding on my bedroom window was broken which allowed the frigid New York air to slip into my room and make me shiver with each breath. At my desk, I would usually have a throw blanket to shroud my freezing body but the moment I discarded it, I felt regret. I almost wanted to wrap myself in it to confront my neighbour but the pyjamas alone didn't help me look tough.

I did however shove my feet into some cow slippers and march right up to their apartment.

Apartment 2D stood in front of me, the pastel blue door making me angrier with every second that I looked at it. I rapped my knuckles on the wood and crossed my arms to stop me from shuddering.

My nerves built up as I slowly heard a door within the apartment shut followed by footsteps leading to the door. I would just ask them politely to quiet down and calmly work on a way to fix the shared wall that they are slowly ruining.

The door opens and staring me down is a woman. I had expected it to be a man to be truthful. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the colour teetered on the verge of auburn and brown. The woman is clad in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, it's almost parallel to my outfit.

"You need to be quiet," I say the first words that come to mind "And stop assaulting my fucking wall."

She sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "Are you apartment 3D?" She asks to which I nod "I knew you would be stopping by soon." She has this sheepish and almost sardonic smile on her face and despite the amusement she's portraying I can see sadness brewing in her green eyes like a storm.

"I don't know what you're doing in there where you are up all night, I don't even have a clue how you sleep and work with all this time to spare to be a nuisance." I say and then swiftly feel the urge to backtrack "I'm sorry, that was a little rude, but mate, I can't sleep or work when you're being loud doing whatever you do."

"Fuck," She mutters looking back into her apartment and then at me "I'm sorry, I'll keep it down."

"What about the wall?"

Her eyes look me up and down, settling on my cow slippers "I'll find someone to fix the wall."

I press my lips tight together, looking dead into her eyes, scraping my brain for something else to say. It was almost like I wanted to fight. I had expected this to be a full-out conversation that ended in yelling but god she was pretty and she was telling me just what I wanted. "Okay."

"Okay?"

I regard her once more with what I assume is a cold glare before ushering back into my apartment and slamming the door behind me, the whole time, my neighbour watches me from her doorway.

That was the first night of uninterrupted sleep I'd had in a month.

-

I woke up earlier than I would've liked when my roommate Margot came home from work at 4:56 on the dot. She made sure to slam every single door and cupboard before throwing herself onto her bed in all of her makeup and musty clothes that had to endure whatever happens at a nightclub between the hours of 8 pm and 4 am, which I can't imagine is very clean.

Still, even though I was a little ahead of schedule I fell into my morning routine. It started with ignoring my phone, this was followed by a mug of Bengal spice tea with a teaspoon of honey and a splash of cream.

Sometimes I would curl up on the couch, though it snowed last night and I loved fresh snow. Freshly fallen snow absorbed sound, it was like soundproofing for the earth. There wasn't anything like the rare peace you could find in New York. I figured I would have my morning tea on the fire escape.

My peaceful image was destroyed the second I pried my window open and crawled through I was hit with the intense smell of pot. "Shit," I mutter, instinctively wafting the scent away from my nose.

"Sorry, man," I see my neighbour leaning against the railing of the fire escape, nursing a joint. It hadn't crossed my mind that I shared a level of the fire escape with her, I had never seen her out here but now the smell of weed that drifted through the damaged moulding on my window made sense, I had always assumed it to be Margot.

"Joint for breakfast?" I ask, half-joking. A dusting of powdery snow adorns each step and railing, creating a delicate layer of white that contrasts with the industrial gray of the metal though it looks like my neighbour has pushed all of the snow off the platform.

"Nah, for dinner I guess, it helps me sleep," She's in the same outfit from last night, except her hair is now loose around her face and she threw a hoodie over her tanktop.

I furrow my eyebrows "You've been up all night?" The slight tension from the previous night has dissolved completely.

"Yeah," She says it like it was a stupid question and it partially was but I hadn't stayed up that late since New Year only because I was the designated driver and was in charge of getting everyone home safe. "I don't sleep much, that's probably why I keep you up all night."

I mean, I'd let her keep me up in other ways "Honestly, I've gotten used to it, it's almost like white noise." I try to sympathize even if it isn’t necessarily true.

"Next time I'm loud, you have every right to bang on my door and chew me out." She takes a drag from her joint and I watch as the smoke escapes her lips, her cheeks tinted pink from the cold.

"Good to know," I glance behind her at the open window and all I see are purple LED lights cutting through the darkness of her apartment. "Now I know that we share a fire escape I'll just crawl through your window and yell at you that way," I joke, taking a sip from my snoopy mug.

This makes her laugh in the slightest, she crushes what remains of her joint on the cold railing and tosses the bud into the pot of a dead plant that's covered in snow and has lived on this fire escape long before I moved in; one time I just about removed it but I felt bad, it's like I was evicting it from its rightful home "Feel free."

"Am I allowed to ask why you're up all night breaking the sound barriers?" I ask, pulling my fuzzy robe tighter around my body to fight the bitter air. "Are you the leader of a cult? Would it be better for the world in the long run if I push you right now?"

The corners of her lips curl up into a smile once again "You've figured me out, just know I've got some big plans with Koolaid," She plays into my teasing.

"It was flavour-aid, actually." I don't know why I said that.

"What the fuck is flavour-aid?"

"Koolaid basically," Silence stretches between us "So what do you actually do all night?"

"It's a bit complicated," She says, of course, it was complicated. "I work from home," She couldn't do something normal, she probably did voice acting or ran a podcast or some weird shit like that.

"Sick," Don't worry, I made myself cringe when I said that too "I work from home too."

"Yeah, you said something about work last night, are you in marketing?"

I shake my head "I'm a writer," every time I tell someone that, I feel a twinge of embarrassment. I know it wasn't a noble career like my parents had hounded me over, but it felt noble to me. I had two absent parents and was raised by a pack of wolves, I would devour as much food as fast as I could because I didn't know when I would be eating next. I was far too emotional to be around all of the narcissists who preferred their own faces to my company, the only friend I had was the written word.

Since then I have been serving my soul up to strangers through word documents.

The thought makes me homesick for the arms that did not hold me and I truly expect my neighbour to make a mockery of me, the way others have. The way they've told me 'It's a tough industry but hang in there!' and pat me on the back like I'm a hopeful child clinging to her mother's skirts.

"That's really cool," She smiles while she gazes out to the skyline, I can see her perfect side profile and ski-slope nose "I wanted to be a writer, I thought myself to be a poet, and then I thought myself to be a scientist and wanted to be an astronaut. Now, I'm here."

"Where's here exactly?"

"Working things out, figure it out as I go," She shrugs like she is unsure of her answer.

I think it's beautiful how everything around me has been touched by human hands and carries so much history. For a quick moment, my mind wonders to those who built this building, the calloused hands that crafted the iron railing and now my neighbour who was leaning against it. "What's the end goal with this whole freefall thing?"

"To make it out alive."

"And your name?"

"It's Ellie."

-

That night Ellie stuck to being quiet as she promised. The next night was a different story. I was so close to finishing the draft of Nicole Elliot's memoir and was praying that the deadline would pass with no issue.

However, the noise began again. I was coming around to like Ellie and I didn't want to go yell at her again so I shoved my headphones in and turned up my playlist as loud as I could. There is no song I can blast in my headphones to drown it out.

She did say that the next time I was loud I could come and chew her out, I wouldn't do that; I would just knock on her door and quickly tell her that she was being too loud, and then we would both carry on with our respective work.

I stopped in front of the smooth door and raised my hand to knock. Ellie slips the door open just a crack, when she sees that it's me she opens the door. "Hey, Ellie."

"Hello," She smiles "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had a very nice smile.

We both know the circumstances of my visit but I spell it out anyway "Dude, you're way too loud, it's disruptive and I'm working under a deadline."

"I know, I'm sorry." She looks genuinely apologetic.

"I don't know any office job that needs you to scream for hours on end," Alright, that blows what could've been a simple visit where she apologizes and I leave, I always had to add on.

"Right, sorry," She carries herself with so much confidence that it is like she is wearing armour made of gold though she has these subtle awkward tendencies of someone who has never been loved and was forced to improvise. "It's hard to explain,"

"Yeah, you've said-

"Do you wanna come and see?"

I'm taken a little aback and for a minute I think this is all a ploy for Ellie to lock me in her her apartment and kill me because she is sick of her neighbour banging on her door "What?"

"Well, you've asked a couple of times and if you have a minute I can show you."

I pause, mauling over her proposal. I think of my laptop on my spruce desk, open to the final pages of the memoir and I make up my mind "Alright, just not too long."

"If you say so," Ellie opens the door wider for me to move past her and then shuts it behind us.

Ellie's apartment is what I had expected from her even though it is surprisingly nice. She has a large L-shaped sofa in the living room adorned with throw blankets and pillows and a huge flatscreen with a coffee table in front of it. The layout is exactly like mine but inverted, her open kitchen has some odd knick-knacks that looked like they belonged on an Amazon must-haves list.

I don't go into her bathroom and the door leading to one of the rooms (What is equivalent to Margot's bedroom) is shut. The apartment itself is pretty sparse aside from little bits and pieces as she only moved in a month prior.

On the left side, I see that purple LED spilling out of what I assume to be her bedroom.

She walks in ahead of me and the second I follow in after her there is one question I have to ask "Ellie, are you a porn-star?" There are entirely too many computers in here. Her desk is set up with one of those fancy triple-screen PCs and she has a laptop placed seemingly randomly on a white loveseat that's pressed against the right wall.

There is one of those galaxy lamps that projects that trippy shit onto your walls and ceiling. The screen of her PC is facing our shared wall and I can see a huge hole where I assume that a loud crash from the other night occurred. Plastered all over the walls are posters from video games and movies, many of which I hadn't seen.

"What?" She sounds nearly offended "No," she grabs a folding chair from the corner of the room and unfolds it beside her black florid office chair. She sits on the folding chair and motions for me to sit in the office chair. "Come, sit."

I hesitantly sit in the chair "Are you going to attack me now?" I ask, getting defensive for no particular reason other than it was in my nature "Because I've read The Outsiders and I'm pretty sure I can fight."

She chuckles "I'm not gonna fight you."

"Because I'd win?"

She furrows her eyebrows but has this look of amusement on her face "Yeah, definitely."

"So what is this?" I motion around at all of her equipment.

Ellie puts one earbud in then hand me the other "Chat," She says, looking dead at the camera clipped onto her PC "This is my neighbour who came to yell at me for being annoying, she has every right."

"Who are you talking to?"

"I'm streaming," She said, clicking something on the screen so it changed, instead showing Ellie and I in front of the camera, I looked absolutely lost next to a rolling chat bar full of jokes that I didn't understand and people saying hello to me.

"So I was right," I turn my attention to Ellie "You are an internet person."

"Yeah, I'm an internet person but you weren't right, I don't do porn."

"Not yet," I shrug "Times are desperate," To this, the chats come in even faster than before. "So do you just sit here all night and scream at people?"

"I play video games and do challenges, sometimes I do just sit here and scream at them."

"That makes so much sense," I say "If there's any job that needs you to be obnoxiously loud and annoying, it's a youtube personality."

"Okay, well-

"So you're like Logan Paul?"

Her eyes go wide "No-

"What explains why your eyes are so bloodshot."

"You are a writer," She says it like it's a fact I wasn't aware of "You are in no place to judge, you probably spend as much time in front of a screen as me."

I nod "I hate to say you're right," My attention shifts to the hole behind me "Can you explain how playing video games put a hole through the wall?"

Ellie looks almost embarrassed, she doesn't say anything in response, instead, she just clicks something to screen share with us in a little box in the corner and then goes into YouTube. She types in 'Ellie Williams falls through wall' My eyebrows furrow as I read it, and she clicks the first video that pops up.

The video starts off strong; Ellie is cackling at something that her friend off-camera is saying, her friend then makes a comment that makes her laugh even harder and she throws herself back in her chair. This act breaks it, you can hear the chair snap beneath the pressure and Ellie just lets it happen as the chair crashes against the wall. Her eyes go wide when she realizes she's just put a massive hole into the wall and seconds later you can hear me on the other side banging my hands on the wall. Her eyes go wide and she stares at her friend off-camera, all of the laughter stops abruptly before her friend can't hold it in anymore and erupts in chortles, and the video cuts off.

My hand flies over my mouth to fight back the laughter I so badly want to let out. Ellie and I sit wordlessly, the only sound being donations on the screen and my giggles slipping through. Eventually, I manage to compose myself and look to Ellie, I don't have much to say except for "Oh my god."

A/N: Streamer! Ellie won the poll so here we are. As I was drafting out the other chapters for When I Was Your Girl, I decided that it is most likely to be discontinued unless I do a rewrite which will not be in the near future. I’m not rocking with the plot and there was a lot of mixed feedback, sorry if you were invested I guess, but you have this series to be invested in now!

[amor-ad-nauseam]

Somethin’ Stupid (Pt. 3)

Pairings: Sam X fem!reader

Summary: Pent up feelings have a way of boiling over…

word count: 1.8k

Tags: Reader and Sam are in love, sloppy make out, kissing, sex, intercourse in the impala, PiV, slight softdom!Sam, praising, reader has female anatomy, reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, can be read as porn w/o plot but feel free to check out the other parts

Notes: With that, this series comes to a close! Honestly i really love writing Sam, y'all might just see more of him soon. Also, had my first day of school friday!

Part 1 Part 2

Requests are open

Sam’s hand slips to the underside of your knee. He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to. You know what he wants and you’re more than willing to oblige. You rise to your knees and with his help you swing your leg over his lap in one swift motion.

His hands rest on your hips while you sink into him. As your hips go flush with his, even through pants you both feel the sensitivity building within both of you.

Neither of you waste any time. Your hands slide up the back of his neck, fingers tangling into his hair. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your lips meet in a hungry kiss, tongues licking at each other, saliva wet on your lips, the occasional clash of teeth.

One of his hands slips beneath your shirt, sending shivers through your whole body. Sam’s hand slides up your back, long, delicate fingers trailing every vertebrae of your spine. His tongue runs along the inside of your teeth, licking at the roof of your mouth, anywhere he can get, really.

His free hand reaches down to his pants, pinching and adjusting the fabric near the tightening crotch. This action doesn’t escape you. You roll your hips, grinding into the growing bulge in his jeans. He involuntarily breaks the kiss, throwing his head back and driving his hips into you with a groan.

“Fuck,” He says in a breathy murmur.

He was so beautiful in this moment, the strands of hair fallen in front of his face, the curvature of his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. You could feel your body growing hotter and with it your desire. You kiss your way up his neck, jaw, and collar bones, leaving lipstick stains in your wake.

Every movement, every breath coming from you sends more blood away from his head and straight to his dick. He wanted to take this slow- make this extra good for you. But every action executed by his fuzzy mind was done with the end goal of making you scream like you did in his every fantasy.

Sam’s hand falls from beneath your shirt and lands on your ass. He gives a gentle squeeze, causing your breath to hitch in your throat and a momentary pause in your kissing. Proud of himself, having evoked that reaction from you he squeezes harder, this time urging your hips in an up and down motion against his cock.

He was going to take it slow.

The friction provides a bit of release from the growing heat between your thighs.

“Sam- mfg,” You moan against his neck, sending vibrations across his skin. Your voice was like honey and he couldn’t get enough.

Sam did want to take this slow.

But he needed you.

badly.

Fuck it.

“backseatbackseatbackseat,” The words come tumbling from his mouth, breathy and filled with titillation. He’s slightly incoherent but you get the message.

…

“sssam,” you whimper out as your breasts slap against the hood of the trunk.

You did attempt the backseat but belts are complicated and it was damn near impossible to get your boots off in the dark. Either way, you both were far too turned on and impatient to wait a second longer.

“Mmm good girl, just like that, baby,” Sam cooed.

He slid in and out of you with slow deliberate motion. His hands gently rake up and down your back, stopping just before reaching your breasts and his thumbs kneading your ass cheeks as you adjust to his size.

Your fingers outstretched in front of you, ball into fists as ripples of painful pleasure spread throughout your body. You whine, your hips writhing as Sam fully buries himself within you. You never did expect Sam to be so large. In retrospect, it does only make sense for a man with a stature such as his.

“I know, baby, I know.” Sam says softly. He leans down, serving only to push himself further inside of you, for which he profusely apologizes for by planting loving kisses across your back and shoulders.

“Are you okay, love?” Sam says in between kisses. “We can stop if you want.”

“No, mmf, don’t stop,” You whimper, lifting your head in attempt to look at him. “Plleeeass, don’t stop.” You beg, your voice needy and filled with air.

“Okay, hon,” Sam replies with a small chuckle. He presses a kiss to your lips before straightening himself and picking up right where he left off.

His hands firmly grip your hips. Sam slowly pulls out as if you were made of delicate glass. Then, you feel the warm tip of his length teasing at the entrance of your pussy, as if debating whether or not he should.

“Sam, plea-

Without warning you feel yourself being completely filled by every inch of him. You gasp, your body rocking forward and your senses reeling.

From behind you hear Sam groan at the feeling of your pussy around him. His grip tightens on your hips, the indents of his fingers sure to bruise.

“God, you feel good,” he murmurs.

Before you have a chance to catch your breath he thrusts inside again and again, picking up a steady rhythm.

You moan and cry out breathless repetitions of his name. “F-fhuck, oh god, Samsamsam, fuuuuck, don’t mmfg stop.” Your hands desperately grasp at nothing. You suck in your bottom lip and bite down hard as you attempt to quiet yourself.

Sam immediately takes notice of how your once enthusiastic moans become high pitched squeaks and sharp breaths.

“Mm, c’mon baby, be a good girl for me, lemme hear you.” He lets out a groan, his thrusts fluctuating as you clench around him. “You like that, being called a good girl?”

His voice is low and raspy as he speaks, sending your stomach (and vagina, honestly) fluttering. You could hear the almost pride in his voice- having found out what makes you tick. You nod a mousy yes, raising to your tiptoes so your hips are aligned with his.

Sam groans again, your tight pussy fitting him perfectly. “Good girl,” He murmurs as he makes you moan again and again - music to his ears. He sings your praises in drunken murmurs as he fucks you till you see stars, not the ones overhead.

The night air, warm and thick around the two of you, felt as though it were heating up. Every inch of his body buzzed, his heartbeat raced, and his breaths came out in short pants. You were so beautiful before him- bent over, hair splayed across your back and the sweat on your skin illuminated by the moon. It was almost involuntary as his body moved.

Sam’s arm reached beneath you, wrapping around your waist. You gasp, he lifts you to him, your back flush with his chest.

“God you’re beautiful,” Sam mumbles into your skin. His other hand slides down your torso, landing on the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs.

You throw your head back in a crying moan. You reach behind you, your hand tangling into his mess of hair. Sam growls into your ear in response. His thrusts become more sporadic, his cock entering and exiting you in rapid needy thrusts. His fingers match that same desperate rhythm , or lack thereof, working your clit in jagged circles at the slowest pace he can manage. The extra stimulation provided drives you so close to the edge. Your pussy spasms around him, your awareness threatening to fade as a white hot pleasure spreads through you.

“Fuck, baby i’m close where do you want it?” Sam says through barred teeth as he struggles to hold himself back.

“Inside,” You pant through moans.

“You sure?” He grunts out, his hips stalling.

“Yes! i’m on the pill, please just cum inside me!” You cry out.

Without another word, you both let yourselves go. The entire world around you seems to fade out of existence as firey waves of ecstasy roll through your body. Your back arches and your legs shake while the climax washes over you.

Once you come down from your high you find Sam behind you, panting just as hard as you were. He was still inside of you, along with something warm and sticky.

“That was…” He breaths.

“Wow.”

“Yeah… you okay?”

“Mhm, you?”

“Better.” Sam chuckles.

…

After a maddening search for your missing clothing and some difficulty getting dressed, Sam helps you into the backseat of the car since your legs had given out. He just stands there in the space of the open door, smiling down at you.

“What?” You smile softly.

“You’re beautiful.” Sam says simply.

“Thank you, I think you are as well.”

“Thanks,” He smiles.

Bzz Bzz

“Hm?” You both go curiously.

You peer around to the front seat only to see your phone just how you left it- dead.

“Not me.” You shrug.

“Shit,” Sam begins patting his pockets before pulling his phone from his back pocket. “it’s Dean.”

“Is he okay?” You question, watching Sam’s face as he skims the messages.

>Hey so i may or may not have accidentally sent you to the wrong spot. oops.

> One image attached: A selfie of Dean and Garth’s smiling faces, both holding up blood-stained machetes.

> Walked back to the car and i think i saw you two kissing?

> Nicee, knew you could do it ;)

> You’re not responding so i can only assume you’re either dead, or getting some

> i did buy two motel rooms for a reason, samuel.

“Oof.” Sam says aloud.

“What is it?” You rise to your feet and peer over his arm to look.

>Dude, i swear if you’re screwing in baby rn

>Sam DO NOT FUCK IJ MY CAR!

>IN*

“Technically we didn’t do it in the car.” You giggle.

“Don’t think that matters much.”

“Yeah… well, if he asks let’s just say your phone died.”

“Good idea, but let’s not think about that night now.” Sam tosses his phone to the backseat and turns all of his attention back on you. “Cause right now,” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “All I wanna think about is how I have the most amazing girl in the world, right in front of me.”

You blush, hard. “Oh really?” You smirk, playing coy. “Dunno if i can belive you on that one.”

“Then how can I prove it to you?” Sam replies in an equally playful manner.

“Hmm, i’ve got a few ideas.” You crane your neck upward toward him, biting down on your lower lip.

Without a second thought Sam cups your face in his hands and pulls you in for a soft and sweet kiss.

When you pull apart he smiles at you dumbly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And with that he pulls you in for another kiss. Sam would be happy to prove just how amazing you are forever.

Taglist: @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillies444lola @n0va25 @wowzabowza69

[rainbowangel110]

*bangs fists on table* MANNY WAS ALSO IN THE IN-BETWEEN WATCHING OVER LUZ PLEASE I BEG PLEASE-

I don’t have time to draw nice and clean so take these doodles

Anyways they were friends and also very sad

Based on this drawing I made

[yayakoishii]

can we get some drunk love confessions from sanji?

Sober (Pt. 1) | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x GN! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Genre/Tags: Light Angst, Fluff, Insecure Sanji; there's a scene that might feel like dub-con to some but it's consensual from both sides– please read at your own discretion! ♡

A/n: thank you so much for this prompt anon,, I love drunk confessions myself so I was excited to write this!! I wasn't sure if you wanted the reader to be confessing or Sanji, so I decided to make it Sanji this time since I already wrote a fic where reader drunk confessed. I hope you enjoy this ♡

Part 2

also available on ao3!

The shouting on the ship got your attention from where you were playing cards with Usopp. Across the deck, Zoro and Sanji were fighting again. Even in the dark cloak of nighttime, they sure had the energy to fight without missing a beat. You sighed to yourself then decided that it would be better if you went over and distracted Sanji so the fight would end.

Except, before you had even stood up, the screaming stopped and the two were now stomping towards Zoro's stash of sake. You raised an eyebrow as you saw them sit down across each other, still glaring. You hurried over to them after telling Usopp that you'll be back in a while.

"What's going on?" You asked quietly to Nami and Chopper who had been watching over the two.

"They're having a drinking contest," the navigator replied matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows shot up in shock. Why would Sanji challenge Zoro to a drinking challenge of all things? "Zoro challenged him. And of course your lover boy couldn't back down."

"Nami!" You hissed at her, cheeks flushing. "Don't say that so close to him!"

Nami gave you a deadpan look. She still lowered her voice for your sake, "Sanji is dense as fuck. I bet all my money he wouldn't figure out your feelings from such a simple term."

"I'd still rather not risk it," you muttered underneath your breath before turning your attention to the drinking challenge in front of you. The two of them had already managed to down more than half of the first bottle. Illuminated by the lights on the deck, you could see the slight flush starting to rise on Sanji's cheeks.

The blonde chef could hold his liquor well but going against Zoro was probably equivalent to digging his own grave.

"This is not gonna end well," you sighed. "I'll just go finish my card game with Usopp. Are you gonna watch over these two or…?"

"They're paying me to play referee," she shrugged. You rolled your eyes and bit down the smile trying to come up. Chopper announced that he was going to sleep and to call him if something happened. You both waved him goodnight. Giving Nami a thumbs up, you went back to your seat too. Usopp was staring intensely at his own cards. You stared at him for a few seconds.

"You looked at my cards, didn't you?" You said flatly. Usopp's eyes widened and he started denying but gave up when you started shuffling the deck again. "Let's play one short game before turning in for the night."

You could still hear Zoro and Sanji fighting in the background, the noise just incoherent enough that you couldn't quite make out the words. You could tell Sanji was steadily getting more and more drunk as his voice started getting a little higher and shrill as he shouted. Even in the dead of the night, the Thousand Sunny was as lively as ever. The thought made you smile to yourself as you triumphantly showed your card sets to Usopp, finishing the game.

"You're suspiciously good at this," Usopp complained as he started packing up the cards.

"Be happy I didn't bet money on this," you grinned and leaned back in your chair. "You'd be a penniless beggar otherwise."

Usopp muttered something under his breath that you didn't quite catch. The day's exhaustion was starting to catch up and you decided that it was a good time to go to sleep. You had the early morning lookout shift anyway.

"Goodnight," Usopp called out as he left. You tilted your head up and down to acknowledge his words but stayed in your seat for a few more minutes. The shouting had ceased sometime ago and the low murmurs of conversation washed over you like a lullaby.

"(Y/n)!" Nami's shout of your name startled you awake from your half-asleep state.

"What is it?" You asked with a yawn as you made your way over. "Is their match over?"

"I had to stop them cause I don't think either of them plans to stop," she frowned. "I don't know about Zoro but Sanji would definitely die of alcohol poisoning if this goes on."

You laughed for a second but froze when you realised that Sanji was staring intensely at you. It made you self conscious and you automatically carded a hand through your hair to ensure it wasn't sticking out awkwardly.

"You should take him back while I squeeze my money out of Zoro," Nami winked at you and ran after the swordsman who had already wandered off somewhere. She was gone before you had even finished nodding.

"Alright, Sanji, come on," you smiled down at him, holding your hands out so he could stand up with the support. The chef stopped staring at your face and switched to staring at your hands instead. From your angle, you couldn't quite see his full face but the red splotches on his ears and cheeks were enough indication of how drunk he was. You waited for a few seconds. After a few beats of silence, Sanji placed his own cold hands into yours. You immediately covered them, trying to warm them as you pulled him up. The blonde must have been more drunk than you had thought because he lost his footing and nearly crashed into you.

Thankfully, you realised just in time and instead of the two of you falling on the deck, Sanji had crashed into your arms. Chests pressing, now he was the one looking down at you with a half-lidded gaze. The proximity resulted in Sanji's smell enclosing you, and you flushed at how one of his hands had sneaked around your waist in the confusion somehow.

"So beautiful," he whispered. Your heart was thudding faster, almost like it was trying to escape the confines of your ribcage. You nervously laughed it off.

"Alright, you've had too much to drink," you joked and tried to separate but Sanji's grip did not loosen. He always fought with his legs so you tended to forget that his arms were just as strong. Fingers spreading apart, his hand splayed across the small of your back. The cold touch over your shirt made goosebumps rise on your skin but you were distracted by the way Sanji's tongue was lightly grazing over his lips. The soft pink seemed to be shining in the light.

"This must be a dream," he spoke quietly, seemingly more to himself than you. You stayed still, praying that Sanji couldn't hear your crazy heart rate and that he would forget this tomorrow. (Or well, maybe he shouldn't forget this. You didn't know which option was more appealing at the moment.) "You smell divine, my love."

"Y- You too?" You squeaked out in panic, wanting to hide your face but your hands were trapped between your bodies, resting on his shoulders. Sanji laughed at your words– a soft, genuine, relaxed laugh that you didn't often get to hear. It made your embarrassment quell down and your heart felt warm. Sanji wasn't wrong. Something about this whole night seemed to feel hazy and distant, like a dream. He would only say such words and smile like that around you in a dream, right?

"I wish this wasn't a dream," his words sent something cold down your insides. "If only this was real…"

You paused and looked up at him. Pushing your body on the tip of your toes, you leaned into his ear and asked quietly, "What if it wasn't a dream? What would you do?"

You didn't know what had possessed you but it felt like the right thing to do, the only natural question to ask after his previous words.

"So many things I've wanted to do for so long," his words were still quiet, almost like he was afraid to break the tranquillity of the night. You stepped back and Sanji let you this time. His expression seemed broken and his eyes looked glassy.

You had never actually seen Sanji drunk. He had a high tolerance for alcohol and he usually didn't drink much to ensure he could take care of anyone else who was. (He always said it was just for the ladies but you knew he was secretly looking out for everyone even though he wouldn't admit it.) He never really cried in front of you either. The fact that a drunk Sanji was sad and broken was news to you.

"Sanji," you didn't realise you had cupped his cheeks until you had already done it. Something about that desperate look on his face had spiked an intense urge in you to hold him close. "Is everything alright?"

"If this was reality," his voice wavered, unconfident and so unlike the usual him, "you wouldn't look at me like you're doing right now. If this was real, you wouldn't be in my arms right now. You would never love me the way I love you and you would never see me as something beyond a crewmate."

Your breath hitched at the words, fingers accidentally pressing harder into Sanji's jaws. He didn't seem to feel it because a tear slipped down his cheek and onto your hand, the liquid trailing between your touch.

"That's okay," he blinked, a few more droplets falling down or getting stuck in his eyelashes. "As long as I can hold you like this in a dream… that's enough for me. I won't ask more of you if this was real. All that you give me is already more than I deserve. After all, for someone like me… There's no way you would fall for someone like me. And that's okay. Because you deserve someone better. But I'm so selfish. I wish I could keep you all to myself. I wish I could hold you like this in reality, and tell you how much you mean to me. I wish I could make you smile all the time and be a shoulder for you to cry upon on your bad days. I wish I could k- kiss you and tell you over and over… how much I love you."

It felt like a swarm of butterflies had suddenly erupted in your chest. The fluttering feeling was ticklish and you couldn't quite form words and you could only gape at Sanji. He still seemed to believe this was a dream because his other hand cupped your cheek. His thumb brushed against it, gentle and warm, no longer cold after all the proximity in you two. Before you could say anything, he dipped down and captured your lower lip in between his own, gently caressing it with his tongue. The sudden sensation made you erupt in flames, the blush reaching the tips of your extremities.

"S- Sanji," you breathed out shakily when he let your lip go to slip his tongue into your mouth. You wanted this. You had wanted it for so, so long– but not like this. You drew your head away before he could successfully infiltrate the warm, wet cavern of your mouth and instead gave him a flushed smile. His eyes still looked glossy but there was an unmistakable softness in them.

You would normally have told yourself that he was just drunk and didn't mean it. But there was a part of you that knew it wasn't the effect of the alcohol. Sanji was unbearably honest when he was drunk. His true feelings were what's making him sad. Denying them would be both idiotic and disrespectful, but you couldn't accept them either. The words he spoke weren't ones he had decided to say himself. He thought this was a dream.

"Tell me this tomorrow morning," you whispered, pressing a gentle and slightly wet kiss on his cheek. "Tell me you love me when you're sober. Tell it to me, when this is real and no longer a dream. I'll wait for you to tell me when you feel ready for it."

Sanji stared down at you, his eyes starstruck and in an expression of awe. The sight made your heart clench but you told yourself that he will do it. He will tell you his feelings again, when he is in full consciousness. For that, you had to let him go right now.

"And then we'll do everything that we have wanted to do for so long, yeah?"

°•❀•°

All likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

★ Taglist:

@phantasmagoricalzenith | @secretlife028 | @100520s | @toertchen | @suga-tofu | @theluckyplaces | @luvfzw | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki | @yuninha2004

Part 2 now available!

[liveontelevision]

Suffer Pt. 6 | Lucifer x Reader

(This series is complete! All parts are listed on my master list and are linked below!)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

A single anon request and a 56-page Google doc later, this is the last part, my friends. Thanks to everyone who's been so invested in this, this turned into a bigger project than I thought it would lol But! I'm so glad everyone's been enjoying it, and I hope y'all like the ending! I'm sorry for all the cliffhangers along the way haha (not really)

An extra thank you to the anon who requested a simple babysitter fic and ended up inspiring this whole deal!

♡♡♡

It’s almost been a year since you arrived to the hotel. You arrived when the building was in less than pristine condition, and just a few new guests had arrived. It was a few days after you saw Charlie’s interview on the news, that being what brought you in, despite it’s failure. You were just happy to see her face after all that time. Yet, above the cluttered space and the holes in the walls, there was a more malevolent scheme being hatched.

Any soul who might pass the princess’s room would be bombarded by curses, screams, and growls that sounded less than human. So, most the hotel residents decide it best to avoid that corridor. But not our trusty hotelier. His hand reached for the handle, after deciding that making a bold entrance might not be the best idea. His motion was put to a quick halt by a flurry of curses coming from the other side of the door. Alastor didn’t realize Charlie held such a..colorful vocabulary. Despite that, he went on.

He was greeted with a sight that, unfortunately, wasn’t new to him. An intricate web of red thread connected to pins, all scattered across a once pristine wall. It all connects a collage of images, some that he recognized, some that looked like nonsensical scribbles. The view is obstructed by a furiously pacing princess of Hell. Mumbling completely incoherent complaints, she doesn't notice the opening and closing of her bedroom door.

Alastor, being the sadist he is, props his stance with his microphone, his forced smile unmoving. He enjoys the view for a moment before finally clearing his throat to bring her attention to him. She nearly stumbles over her own feet, ready to scold him for materializing into her room, despite the fact that she was just too out of it to see him walk straight in.

“Al! Good! I need another pair of eyes, come here, come here, look!” She approaches him faster than he expects, and he’s ready to reel away, but is unfortunately hooked around the neck with Charlie’s disturbing strength. With an arm around his shoulders, she drags him forward to examine the wall, as if it made sense to anyone other than her. She starts talking nonsense, again. Something about friendship and Heaven, things he never really cared about. Things he usually tuned out whenever they came up. He only seems to partake in the conversation once he heard your name.

“Alastor.. She’s one of our first guests. I honestly can’t believe anyone showed up after that terrible interview I had earlier, I’m worried i’ll mess things up, again! I mean, all of Hell already thinks i’m a joke.. I just- really need this to go well.” Her mood seems to calm, but to a state of despair. Alastor let’s out a symphahetic awe, patting the top of her head.

“Aw, our poor princess. I understand your concern, my dear, this hotel must mean quite a lot to you.” He faines a sympathy that only convinces Charlie because of her state of disarray.

“Of course it does! And she’s already so kind, I’m sure she’s close to redemption! Maybe this will be a quick one! A-and we don’t even know it, right? That has to be it!” She seems to be reassuring herself, only to be met with an unresponsive radio demon. She groans. Dragging her feet as she walks to the edge of bed, She sits down and lets her head fall into her hands. 

“I really need this to work. I’ll do anything for this to work..” It was a quiet mumble, muffled into her palms, but Alastor heard exactly what he wanted to hear. His grin twisted, something Charlie didn’t see, as he sits at her side. He gives her a quick pat to her back, in some form of comfort.

“Charlie, dear, I understand how much this little project means to you.. I do. And I want nothing more than to witness you trying as hard as you can to keep it up.” Even if it fails. Charlie looks up to him, the bags under her eyes suddenly very apparent. “How would you feel about a little deal? Just a small one, no souls on the line, I guarantee.” 

She’s been warned by Vaggie in the past. Actually, his entire reputation is enough to make her uneasy by the idea. but… 

“I-I don’t know. What did you have in mind..?” She asks reluctantly. He let’s out a chuckle that almost sounds sinister.

“Believe it or not, our little guest and I have a bit of a history.” You can barely call it a history. You served him and Rosie on occasion when you were working in cannibal town. “I’d be delighted to oversee her safety and process to redemption! It’s just as you said, she’s already a gem, Heaven is waiting for her, I can feel it. This will be a breeze for the both of us.” His offer comes off as sincere and touching to Charlie. It wasn’t like him to openly mention his relationships with other demons yet, the idea of you having a close friend throughout this process might just be what you’re missing.

“That’s so sweet of you, Alastor, but.. What do you want from me?” She has to ponder a moment before even considering letting this go on any further.

“Well, you’ve given me a roof over my head and.. A tower for my broadcasts.. Hmm..” He taps his chin, as if he’s in thought. “I’m not quite sure I’ll need from you at the moment, since you’ve just been so hospitable already.” He places a hand to her shoulder, the kind words causing her eyes to well with tears a bit in her weakened state.

“There has to be something.. Well, maybe we can both think this over, once I have a clear head.” She sighs her words, standing from the bedside. Alastor takes her hand and brings her to a halt.

“Oh, but I’d love to get to work as soon as possible, if I may be so bold.. I’m not quite sure what you could offer me in this moment… How about we work out the details, later?” He speaks as if he’s coming up with these words on the spot. He’s had this planned since day one, though. Any chance to get a favor from the princess, he’ll take. Charlie turns to him and sees the strange green glow surrounding their hands. She attempts to pull away, but his grasp is tight.

“Well.. I mean…” She’s still hesitant. He watches her rub her eyes. The still relevant exhaustion gives him a bit of hope.

“It’s simple. I’ll do everything in my power to keep our little guest comfortable and on the path to redemption, no acception. In return, I’ll ask of you one single favor when the time comes.” The glow only continues to swell with his words, and it's clearly making her reconsider. “It’s not as serious as you may think, Charlie. Just a favor between friends, really.” Friendship seemed to strike the right tone.

“I guess.. If it’s for the hotel… Okay, Alastor. It’s a deal.”

-

Back to the dreaded fight just a few months later. You're seeing red.

“Charlie! You made a deal with Alastor?? What were you thinking?” You’re scolding her at this point. The situation barely had time to cool down before your worries began to kick in. Her horns and ruby eyes are still present, she hasn’t even had time to calm herself from the previous display. Lucifer is essentially holding you back, a hand across your front as you try to approach her. It hurts you a bit. Does he think you’re some kind of danger to her?

..Are you putting her in danger?

Alastor is still propped on the ground. He holds a hand around his neck, in hopes of soothing the aggressive collar that had materialized around it just moments ago. You’re all keeping your distance from eachother.

“I-I wasn’t! I wasn’t thinking! It was after the interview! You saw it, you know didn’t go well! I-I had all of Hell laughing at me, laughing at the hotel- He was offering help, I have no idea why he’s acting this way, I swear..! I.. I-” Charlie’s demonic features start to recede when she feels a hand on her back. With heavy breaths, she looks over to Lucifer, who was standing by her side now, ready to comfort her. With a small hiccup, she falls into his arms, gripping his shirt tightly as she did. Her head fell to his shoulder, thoroughly staining his vest with her tears.

The room is uncomfortably filled with her silent sobs. Your heart aches too much looking at the touching display between father and daughter, and your guilt from snapping at her is making you fidget. That’s when you got to thinking.

The deal was for Alastor watch over you until you got to Heaven. For him to do anything in his power to keep you on the path to redemption. To prevent any behavior that might stunt that process..

“Oh.. oh, my god. You’ve been buttering me up this whole time.” You turn to face a still recovering Alastor. The realization grabs the attention of both Morningstars, they raise their heads to look towards the commotion. “The gifts, all the time we spent together.. Was because of this deal? Did.. did you ever actually care about me?” You grip at your heart, ready to rip it straight from your chest. He stands, brushing debris from his entirety.

“I doubt you’ll believe me after such a display of violence, but.. Yes. I did enjoy our time together, despite the requisite of being under my protection. It was quite entertaining before it was… tainted.” His hisses out his final words, contrasting the sweetness of it all. Tainted?

He was kind to you as soon as you arrived in the hotel. Despite the drama, you’ve been inseparable since. Things only got convoluted after.. 

“Under your protection..? Is that why you’ve been turning me away from Lucifer?! Fuck- it is! You’ve been playing games with me for months! Getting in my head..! H-How could you..” He hasn’t just been physically keeping the two of you apart. From day one, your mind was manipulated into thinking Lucifer never wanted you.

“Well.. not to defend myself, dear, but I was merely considering your redemption. I believe there’s some sort of sin in worshipping the Devil.” Oh, now he’s just trying to make more trouble.

“Oh, fuck you Al, I don’t worship him, I love him!” Your comical response seems to drive a shocked expression or two towards you. But you’re too upset to elaborate. You want to tear him apart. You want to see him experience as much pain as you’re feeling now. Luckily, you weren’t the only one. In a blur of a movement, Alastor was brought back to the ground with a thud.

A foot to his chest, Charlie has him pinned to the ground. Her fists are clenched, the aura surrounding her creates a suffocating heat.

“You took advantage of me, Alastor. You betrayed my friends, my family.. My trust.” Despite the demonic tones underlying her voice, it still sounds pained. You didn’t know she could do this, but her clenched fists become encased in fire. Just like her fathers’.

You’re surprised to see him lurking behind, but not attacking. After all you’ve seen, you were sure he’d have ripped Alastor’s head off at this point. His eyes widen, a display of fear you werent expecting. You follow his gaze to see Charlie holding a familiar angelic spear to his neck.

You hear an unearthly growl come from her chest, and before you can think, your arm is wrapped around hers. You can feel the resistance, realizing you had stopped her right as she was about to put an end to it all. Put an end to him.

“Charlie! Stop!” You yell out. You have to do it once or twice more, your words not quite reaching her yet. Once she turns to you, her eyes are still dripping with tears. “Charlie, don’t. This isn’t you. You’ll regret it, I know you will.. I know you.” You’re begging her to stop. As you feel the muscles in her arm start to relax, you reach for the spear and pull it gently from her hands. She releases her grasp without a fight.

You usher her off, glancing back to Alastor for a moment to see his wound had reopened from that. He had an obvious slash across his neck. You gulped, realizing how close she was to actually killing him. She places her hand over yours, where your arms are still linked.

Charlie let’s out a sigh, looking to her shaking hands, then clenching her fists. She looks to you, then back to Alastor.

“But.. everything he’s done to you… It’s not right, I’m not sure I can forgive him..” She’s speaking quietly to you.

“Well.. You don’t have to forgive him. But he doesn't deserve to die, Charlie.” You state the obvious and it makes her flinch. “And.. you should let him stay.” You hear a collective What? from the room.

“I know I know.. but… this whole place is about second chances. I.. think he can change. And even though, he is being such a dick right now-” Your voice is cracking, as if you can hardly believe your own words. “-I still believe it. You taught me that.” You smile up to Charlie. After a moment you turn your head to Lucifer, meeting his eyes. He looks more in shock than anyone, almost hurt by your act of mercy. You’re surprised by his expression, not realizing Charlie had slipped from your side to approach Alastor.

“She’s right, you know. I can’t forgive you, Alastor. Not yet, at least.. But you’re welcome to stay here, considering all the help you’ve done for the hotel.” She sounds stern, still not entirely convinced this is the right call.

“Yeah, some help you’ve been, you prick..” Those are the first words Lucifer has muttered in awhile. You approach his side to jab him with your elbow and shush him. Despite your scolding action, your presence only reminds him of your previous confession. He crosses his arms and continues to curse quietly, despite his flushed cheeks. Charlie steps closer to Alastor.

“You’re still here, because of her.” Charlie’s voice goes dark as she gestures to you. “That favor I owe you? Is letting you live. This deal is done, Alastor.” She hisses her words out. The intensity and anger radiating from two of the most powerful creatures in Hell is enough to leave even Alastor a bit weary. He nods, still gripping his wound that has been repeatedly opened these past few days. Other than that, he slinks away with barely a scratch. Lucky him. 

Once he’s out of sight, Charlie let’s out a groan and falls to her knees. With a unison call of her name both you and Lucifer rush to her side. You place a hand on her back, attempting to keep any displaced hair from her face. She leans into Lucifer’s chest, a heartaching sight of sniffles and apologies.

Before long, she seemed to exhaust herself. Curled up to his chest, Lucifer smiles, despite the circumstances of their closeness. He lifts his eyes just slightly to see yours. You look embarrassed. Before he has a chance to question you, you rise from the ground.

“You should take her to bed.” You say in a hushed tone, gripping your arms and making some distance. “She needs some rest after.. all that.”

“Sure, but.. are you-” He speaks just as softly, opening a portal behind him silently.

“I’m fine. I’m-” You let out a sigh, beginning to move towards the stairs. “She needs to rest, Lucifer.” You remind him.

“Oh- Oh.. Right, yeah.” He rises to his feet, effortlessly lifting Charlie into his arms and stepping through the portal. You try to keep moving. You try to not meet his eyes as the portal shuts, but you find yourself unable to go on. Once they’re gone, you cover your mouth, only making your labored breaths worse, but you’re desperate to muffle any cries. You feel yourself wobble in place, before seeing a portal open to your side. It leads to your room.

After stepping through, you silently approach your bed. Your legs suddenly turn led, and you're hitting your bed with a gasp. Your exhaustion is enough to keep your sobs to a minimum at least.

-

The feeling you have when you wake up is worse than any hangover you’ve had. With alcohol you can at least forget your troubles. But on this morning, you can vividly remember the previous night. You sit up, your body aching. You only wonder why for a moment, before realizing you had fallen asleep sideways across your bed, your legs still dangling off the side. You still need sleep.

You remove any uncomfortable clothing or accessories that had pressed marks into your body and return to bed. The right way, this time. Your pillows feel like heaven after all that’s happened. Heaven..

You try your best to sleep, you really do. Your body is essentially begging you to empty your thoughts just for a few more minutes. But your mind is sending you tossing and turning, any times you close your eyes, all you can imagine is everything you've done wrong. Your eyes drift open after trying to force them shut, and your eyes spot the radio on your nightstand. You sit silently for a moment, maybe try to close your eyes again..

Nope.

Before you have a chance to process every movement, you’re opening your door and thoughtlessly throwing the radio outside. You don’t care where it ends up, clearly. You were waiting to hear it break, into multiple pieces hopefully, before shutting your door. You’re met with a startled groan instead. Taking a moment to process that you had thrown an old-timey radio at someone, you stand at your door with a yawn.

The panic hits you. It could’ve been Alastor, assuming he stayed. It could’ve been Charlie, who doesn’t need any more conflict. You could’ve taken out Niffty as far as you know. Swinging the door open, your eyes see the radio first. They’re wrapped in your victim’s arms.

“Good catch.” You let out hoarsly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes to clearly see Lucifer.. It could've been worse. He let’s out a breathless thanks, clearly having the air knocked out of him. You definitely didn’t hold back with that throw. And it wasn’t exactly a lightweight radio.

“Er.. Sorry. I meant to say sorry.” You try to recover, your words are followed by another yawn. You watch him drop the radio into a small portal he conjured below his grip.

“Good morning to you, too. I was, uh.. about to check on charlie, but-” He’s ready for a conversation that you aren’t. You quickly shake your head, pulling your door in.

“Nono, I need some time.. To wake up. I’ll see you around, though.” You didn’t expect him to perk up from his words, but he does. His smile is infectious. You watch him give you a little wave before shutting your door. You lean against it, your smile that you had been presenting to him, leaves you almost immediately.

There’s so much on your mind. You scan your room, memories of Alastor popping up no matter where you looked. Every chat you’ve had in here, every moment you’d call him in for advice for clothes or accessories, all the nights you’d fall asleep listening to his voice. Your eyes stopped at your vanity seat. Draped across the back is a bittersweet sight, your gifted red sweater. You finally rise to your feet, quickly reaching for it and holding it tightly in your hands. You hesitate before bringing it to your nose. You’re not sure why. Why would you want to remind yourself of anything involving him? Did you think that same scent that’s brought you comfort so many times would have the same affect? You give it a shot.

Hesitantly breathing in, you’re immediately reeling back, throwing the sweater down to your ground. Your hand covers your nose, that sickenlingly sweet honey scent now smells like rotten flesh. Like road kill. You need some air. Digging out a different sweater, one you haven’t had to use in months, you decide you just need to walk around for a bit. The hotel was big enough that you could safely avoid any unwanted attention. Plus, you were sure Alastor’s pride was too wounded to freely roam the hotel. And his other wound.. You hope he’s okay.

You groan out loud, mentally cursing yourself for your sympathetic thoughts. You make your way down to the lobby, and are met with a surprisingly clean lounge. You scan the walls that were previously cracked, the carpets that should be stained with blood, then wonder where Vaggie’s suddenly conjured spear might have gone. What would have possessed Charlie to choose such a weapon.. an angelic spear? She didnt really want him dead, did she? She's emotional. And extreme. Like her father. You decide not to question it any further. It’s not like you were upset by the erasure of the previous night's events.

-

A day or two passed. Your mind seemed unwilling to accept the reality you're currently in. You're anxious, and paranoid to any sentence thrown your way. You're constantly looking around corners, checking all parts if your room before locking it for the night. Yet, if someone were to ask what was making you so nervous, you wouldn’t have an answer.

You found yourself taking those little strolls often, though. Keeping your body in motion, with only the sounds of your breathing keeping you company, seemed to clear your mind. It never helped come to terms with any seething pain you felt, but it cleared your mind at the least.

You'd pieced together a few things in the meantime. After passing the bar, where Angel and Husk were chatting, they would smile and wave, ask you join them form a drink, but you’d decline. Neither of them seemed to know about anything. Maybe Niffty cleaned the mess. Maybe Alastor asked her to. Before anyone could see the outcome of his mistakes.

You passed Vaggie in a hall, and she immediately looked concerned. She opened her mouth, an Are you okay? sits on the tip of her tongue. But then she looked at you. Your body only mirrored the fog of your mind, baggy eyed and wrapped in some blanket as you roamed the halls like a damned ghost.

“Hey, um- it's.. it's gonna be-" you held your hand up to her.

“I know. Thank you.” You smile, the action stiff, considering you hadn't used those muscles in awhile. Vaggie knew. That was fair, though. You were glad Charlie had someone to confide with. You walked on after she gave a hesitant goodbye wave.

One night, when your body had taken over and you were wandering aimlessly, you realized where you ended up. Not only were you standing in front of Lucifer's workshop, he had already spotted you through the window on the door. He opened it before you could fully take in your surroundings.

“Hey..” You let out softly. What else are you supposed to say? You didn’t come prepared. You feel embarrassed standing in front of him, realizing how much of a mess you must look. You're not even sure what part of your mind made you end up here.

He doesn't respond at first, another speechless moment letting your mind wander. He opens the door more, offering his space to you. You look at him and he smiles before you shuffle inside. You take in the sight. You haven't actually seen it, considering your circumstances after the hotel was renovated.

“It looks nice in here.” You say quietly, your voice cracking just a bit. You walk through, tracing your fingers along desks and tables, stopping and looking at family photos on occasion. You looked to Lucifer’s smiling face in a picture where he was lovingly holding his wife and daughter. How did you end up like this?

“Oh- um.. thank you, it's more than enough space for me, but, uh.. it's nice.” His voice sounds unfamiliar as it snaps you from your mindset. He moves to his main bench, which is slightly elevated by a platform that connects to the windowed wall. You eventually make your way around, standing near him.

“Are.. you… How are you..?” You listen to him struggle to form such a simple question, and yet you have an equally hard time trying to respond. Obviously, you were crushed. devastated by the betrayal and overwhelmed by everything else.

“I'm okay.” You reply thoughtlessly. It was your go-to answer. You hear a muffled chuckle and look over to him. He's blocking the laughter with his fist in front of his lips. Is he laughing at you?

“Sorry sorry, I just.. know that you're lying. You've done this before, don't forget how much time I've actually spent with you.” You want to scold him for acting so bold, for saying he knows you better than yourself, but..

You're leaning against the table in one moment, and before you know it, you're hoisted to sit on its top. You felt like a relief you didn't realize. Your feet were aching. How long were you walking the in the halls today? The sensation of his hands planted on your waist. to steadily bring you to the counter, lingered after he had removed them.

“I used to see you wandering around back home- at the mansion, I mean. usually after a tough day. But it's been a few days, so I just thought you might be-”

“Why are you so calm?” Your sudden question made him visibly finch. "You were tricked, too, you know. He tore us apart. How can you be handling this so well?” Your voice starts to turn agitated. You weren't sure why you were taking it out on himm, but you both knew in the moment that this was the first time you’ve let any emotion out since the fight.

“It's like some.. malevolent force is constantly tearing us apart. One moment I'm happy, I'm in love, I'm smiling- then the next, you're just gone. and everything else that keeps me sane goes with it.” You feel a flood of tears beginning to well. Tears that you should've been letting out days ago. “Is this some kind of fucking curse? Why can’t things just be easy..? A-Are we just doomed?” You're wiping your face clear, your words becoming sloppy and hoarse.

“Maybe.” Your head lifts to see him, still calm as before, but with a solemn look on his face. “But, we keep finding eachother, right? And all the good times.. they'll stay good, won’t they?” You nod your head reluctantly.

He approaches you, with a hand on your shoulder, he's wiping away tears with the other.

“Honestly? I'm not handling this well at all. You're right, the universe has done nothing but tear us apart and hurt both of us. And I’m just about ready to tear Alastor limb by limb. I want Charlie to be okay.. I want to keep you by my side and never let you out of my sight this time.” You see his emotions range throughout his words, his eyes flashing red for a moment. He calms himself down, running his hand down your arm to hold your hand. You don't resist.

“But, you made some good points back there. And I just thought.. if you're strong enough to let that prick live, after everything, then.. Maybe I-I.. I'm trying to be strong.” He sounds almost embarrassed to admit it, and the comment on your strength leaves you a bit red in the cheeks. “You've always been so strong, darling. I just wish you'd tell me how you're really feeling.. I miss talking to you. Not this.. empty shell.” His words stung and he knew it as soon as they slipped from his lips.

“W-wait, no, I mean..”

“It’s fine, you're not wrong.. Jerk.” You share a little laugh with him, the mood lightening for just a moment. “Lucifer, I'm.. I'm so tired.” You let out weakly. That barely scratches the surface of everything. It's as if your mind was boiling over, with all the thoughts of Alastor turning sour, and the thoughts of redemption suddenly in question, not to mention all those feelings of Lucifer that were repressed until just recently. You want Charlie to be okay. You want things to be normal, but.. you're not quite sure what normal looks like. You wish you could say all this to him.. it’s hard to put it to words. But you're trying. He makes you want to try harder.

You feel a gentle hand holding your cheek, bringing your blurred thoughts to clarity and meeting eyes that left you breathless. When was the last time you've looked in his eyes? A blush forms across his cheeks, your gaze seems to fluster him. He clears his throat, getting his mind back.

“You're not okay. But.. You will be. I promise.” With a wry smile, you let the weight of your head fall into his palm.

Your eyes meet. He leans in and you feel his arms snake around yout waist. Looking back, you're almost embarrassed by the way you leaned towards him, eyes shut, head tilted, your lips just slightly parted. You were startled by the feeling of his head resting on your shoulder. He only pulls you closer after he feels your breath start to deepen, his hands gentle across your back. You finally return his touch, digging your nose into the crook of his neck and gripping tightly at his shirt.

It used to feel like, if you let go, you'll never hold him again. God, how the possibility scares you. But.. it feels a little different this time. You weren’t worried about him disappearing, this time.

You’re so comforted by his presence, you let yourself fully relax to him. You open your eyes just slightly, blinking out some tears that still remained, thoroughly ruining his top. You pull away, meeting his eyes again.

You feel as if you were close to forgetting this side of him, but you recognize this face. You saw it the night you first kissed him. You saw it after seeing him at the hotel for the first time, then when he decided to sweep you off your feet for a little date. You saw it after every little date that followed. You realize he's never stopped looking at you this way.

“I love you, too.”

-

I had to put that worship the devil in there it just made me laugh so sorry if that seemed out of place lol

And not to fear my friends,

I plan on making a little epilogue about how everyone's recovering, and some sweet, yummy, fluffy goodness to top it off.

Again, Thank you all so much for your support! :)

I'll be working on some requests next, and some more vamp Luci! Kind of in love with that guy ngl

Taglist! (good lord I hope I got everybody )

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness

@misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @the-maladaptivedaydreamer / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest / @wendigonamecaller / @chirimeimei / @sapphireravensworld / @sillywormtrixareforkids

[crystalflygeo]

Sinful voice pt.2 ft “Morax”/Prof!Zhongli + fem!reader (modern AU)

cw/tags: Voice kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, female masturbation, oral and fingering implied but like it's just fantasizing?? petnames (sweetheart, babygirl, dear) Reader is DOWN BAD LMAO and suffers second hand embarrasment.

notes: EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU @localplaguenurse!!They gave me a F A N T A S T I C idea that just inspired me to continue this wip and ended up not even being featured here yet but HEY... future p3!! //winkwink. That said I did NOT expect how much this would blow up and how ppl loved it and wanted more, y'all gonna make me giddy and/or cry pls (consider checking some of my other stuff too mayhaps? <3) Anyway I REALLY hope this delivers bc boi am I afraid of not meeting expectations vcgvhjbnjnmklal

Weeks had passed since your ‘big discovery’ and you still weren’t quite sure what to do with this information.

At first you chalked it up to just your imagination because… there was no way, right? Your new professor could just have a… similar voice… yeah… that was it.

Except the more you listened to his long-winded explanations the more you picked up certain words and intonations here and there and you knew you were just fooling yourself.

A lot had happened in these last few weeks, from organizing your new living space, to meeting your roommates, to grocery shopping, classes, and you had even considered the idea of maybe getting a part time job somewhere close by. There were plenty of small shops and places around the college campus neighborhood that not only offered valuable services to poor college students but also the opportunity to make a bit of money to help them out.

It had all been rather exhausting and stressing, exams, essays and projects were already starting too…

Lying back in bed you sigh and roll over, feeling the familiar faint throb of desire pooling between your legs, one you’d never really managed to sate with a person so much as with fantasies. But tonight, as you lay awake in bed aching for your usual touch, you feel conflicted.

Ever since that very first day you just couldn’t bring yourself to open up Morax’s website again. Hell, a new month had rolled over and you’d dutifully paid the subscription along with your other usual bills.

Part of you was itching for it, curious, frustrated.

And very very horny.

Thing is, your fantasies had often featured a faceless man, strong, imposing and dominating, taking you like a blushing maiden and making you beg for the pleasure he’d give, allowing him to do anything he wanted with your heated body. Now that man had a face… your history professor Mr. Zhongli.

You used to get off to imaginings of Morax tying you up and having his way with you, teasing you, fucking you into the mattress and making you cum over and over. Now it was Mr. Zhongli. Polite and courteous Mr. Zhongli with his refined gestures and well-mannered demeanor.

You wanted to cum, to reach that high and come undone and let out all the pent-up stress and frustration until you melted into a puddle and didn’t have to think about classes or money or life anymore, but the second your fingers began to rub at your clit, Mr. Zhongli’s voice would hit you with that even tone he used when scolding someone for gossiping during his lecture.

“Disgraceful behavior…”

A hot flash of shame burned at your face but for whatever reason it just turned you on more. You wanted to get fucked so bad you felt like you were going insane. You wanted that man to pin you up against a wall and thrust inside you until you turned into an incoherent moaning mess. You wanted to get bent over at his desk and filled up with cum until you were left gaping and oozing and told what a good girl you are. You wanted to get fucked on your hands and knees squirming and crying from overstimulation.

Lying in bed, you squeezed a pillow against your face and screamed.

You wanted to fuck your handsome history professor Mr. Zhongli.

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

It’s barely first period and you couldn’t concentrate.

You were sleepy, hungry and overall, in a bad mood. Standing in line at the cafeteria for a much-needed morning coffee and some snack you yawn and browse around your phone. Math. Gods you hated math.

At least you didn’t have history today. That was a whole other can of worms.

You figured you’d eventually have to get over it but it was just… so bizarre. Mr. Zhongli was quite the popular teacher, you’d learned. Extremely knowledgeable in various topics, a strict but kind and just teacher and good looking on top of all.

No wonder the upperclassmen flocked around him, probably half the campus lowkey had a crush on him, male and female students alike. It was genuinely a miracle he was not married or even had a significant other apparently.

And he was also Morax. Sensual dominating Morax who would just not leave your head-

“Good morning, how may I help you?” The cashier called out cheerfully and you pulled out of your thoughts.

“Morn-”

“Good morning.”

You gasp so sharply you almost launch into a coughing fit; your eyes widen and whole body tenses and oh shit-

Somehow you manage to trip and fall in the clumsiest, stupidest way possible.

“Woah-!”

“Miss?!”

Except you don’t actually fall, but someone manages to hold you, a hand grabbing your arm and the other pressed against your back steadying you as your poor brain goes into overdrive.

That voice!

It’s him!

Too close!

What is he doing here?!

Way too close!!

The seconds it takes for you to react feel like ages as you stare up at Mr. Zhongli like a deer caught in the headlights.

His hands are warm…

His cologne smells soooo good.

His eyes are gorgeous!

He’s so hot!!

“Are you alright Miss l/n?”

“I’M FINE! I-I’m fine!” You yelp, way louder than intended (or normal) and quickly scoot back to put some distance between yourself and the handsome professor. He picks up his dropped bag and dusts it a little, as well as his clothes, still pristine as ever. “I… think I got a little dizzy s-sorry I haven’t eaten yet and… yeah…” You chuckle nervously.

You see him frown slightly. “Going without food for long periods of time can be quite dangerous.” He states, obviously concerned. “Maybe you should head to the infirmary see Dr Baizhu, you look quite pale and the dizziness could be a symptom of low blood pressure. Do you have anything sugary to eat or drink?”

“I w-was about to buy something…”

“It might be best for you to sit down for the moment.” He nods, resolute. “Allow me.”

…And that’s how you end up sitting at one of the nearby small tables with a little glazed donut and a bottle of water, courtesy of your dear history professor.

You stare at the little treat in your hands, half eaten already as he insisted, at least your hands stopped shaking and some color returned to your face. Mr. Zhongli seemed content enough, sitting across from you.

“T-Thank you.” You mumble, refusing to meet his gaze. “How much was it? I’ll pay you back I have som-”

He sees you rummaging through you bag and raises a hand. “None of that, you needed it. I’m glad to see you’re looking a little better, please take care of yourself, health is very important.”

“Um, ok.”

Then he smiles, and it’s gentle, soft. “You’re Miss l/n, right? One of the new students from my history class?”

Huh?   

“You didn’t do very well on the essay assignment…”

Ack. You sigh and take another bite of the small donut. “History is just… not my strong suit. Too many dates and names to remember.”

He chuckles and oh God who gave him the right to make that sound? Your skin tingles.

“Fair enough. I know my classes can be a little daunting, I’m very particular about certain topics and tend to ramble sometimes. But I can tell you really put effort into classes and pay attention to my lectures.” He looks pensive for a moment. “Let me propose something. I usually impart some private tutoring sessions to students on more advanced levels, but I could make an exception for you. If you have time available it could help lift your grades.”

You stare up at him in surprise, grateful to not have a mouthful of donut or you would have probably choked again like an idiot. Did you hear that right? A private tutoring session after hours at his office?!

Now that sounded like a title for one of Morax’s audios: Hot professor bangs his stu-NOPE.    

“I-I’ll think about it! Sure.”

He nods and gets up, sparing a glance at his watch. “I have to leave now, please do consider it. And do try to eat at more regular intervals and take better care of yourself, you look quite tired.”

A polite way of saying you had marked eyebags, yep.

“I’ll try.” You mumble. Suddenly a little sad to see him go. “Professor… thank you.”

There’s that smile again, you could melt. “You’re welcome, my dear.”

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

And yet that night, you’re once again rolling in bed unable to sleep.

My dear.

You couldn’t stop thinking on the whole incident, you’d certainly made a fool of yourself but the memory of his strong arms holding you, touch firm but gentle. The scent of his cologne that you wish had clung more on your clothes.

You really were down bad, this is ridiculous…

You bite your lip.

You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t.

Oh but you will, just one wouldn’t hurt.

Quite the opposite actually…

Unable to contain yourself (or your horniness) you take no time to pop in your earbuds and start scrolling. Hmm… there had been a couple new additions in these last weeks.

You can’t help but wonder why he does these. When. How. You never really considered or thought on it before, Morax has quite a lot of patrons (not a surprise) and thought you know nothing about sound and video recording or editing technically he’s making money just by using that honeyed velvet voice of his. That had to bring in some cash, right?

But then again, if you knew anything about these types of subscriptions it was that they required constancy and that meant hard work and dedication. Did he enjoy these? He really puts in the effort given the amazing quality…

You can’t help but picture your handsome professor unwinding a little after a long day, casual clothes, a cup of that tea he loves and setting up to record those dirty words and sinful moans.

Did he sometimes get worked up about these too? Did he also touch himself during or after recording a particular scenario? Sitting back slightly sprawled on the chair, brow slightly furrowed, stroking his co-   

Aaahhhh you needed to stop thinking on him.

…

Yeah right.

“Daddy eats you out and prepares you for his big cock.”

Well, this looks promising.   

The audio starts like many others, with some dialogue from him and setting the scene and oh… you had kind of missed the playful teasing tilt of Morax’s voice. You can’t help but chuckle lightly, this scene is so domestic. He calls you “sweetheart”, “babygirl” and there are the kissy noises.

You wish you could kiss him…

“Hmmm… daddy’s gonna get you nice and ready. Spread your legs for me.” Oh, you certainly do. “Daddy’s gonna get down here between them.”

You rub at your tights slowly, sensual, remembering his larger hands.

“Oh your little pussy is already so wet and swollen.” Morax coos, voice soft and airy. “You think it’s already ready I know.” He chuckles. “But you know daddy’s cock is big, yeah, your little pussy’s gonna need to stretch a little bit hm?” A kiss.

You whine.

“Shhh daddy’s gonna make you feel so good sweetheart.”

Lewd wet noises invade your ears and you waste no time starting to stroke yourself, slow and tender. He groans and sighs and you whimper, hips jolting from the bed.

Gods how was he so…

“Yeah… nice and gentle hmm, we’re gonna have so much fun.”

His words were a complete 180 from the long lectures about politics and wars, and yet, his voice…

“D-Daddy…” You sigh. “Please!”

“Oh I love how sensitive your little clit is… you like that babygirl?”

You rub and stroke at the little bundle of nerves and see stars already.

You were so pent up, so needy. Your orgasm was already building too quickly, mewling and whining at his words, his noises, trying to match the pace and follow his instructions.

“That’s a good girl.”

“F-Fuck-”

Your eyebrows furrow, your body trembles and you bit your lip to contain your noises. Morax warns you when he adds a finger, and after a few seconds another, chuckling low at how you clench, praising you, coaxing out your pleasure.

You can only picture him at the end of the bed, licking and sucking obscenely at your juices, pumping those slender fingers in and out, in and out…

That tantalizing voice teasing you, your fingers knotting that dark brown hair tipped amber, golden eyes staring up at you half-lidded but feral and fascinated. Focusing on you. Only you.

“A-Ah! Mhmm…”

“Now I want you to cum babygirl come on, in five… four…”

You stroke and pump faster, frantic, lost in that rapidly approaching high.

“Three… two…”   

You cry out, a spark cursing through your veins.

“One… hmmm that’s it my dear.”

“Z-Zhongli…!”

He ushers you out of your release with soft words before saying something else, but your mind is floating and hazy. Your take off the earbuds and place them away catching your breath for a moment, arm draped over your face, the audio still has a long way to go but you’re drowsy and sleepy so you decide to call it a night.

It is only a little later, once you’re done with a quick cleaning and putting everything away, curled up under the covers and dozing off that you realize…

Shit.

You’d called not for Morax but Zhongli.

[inquisimer]

Achievement Unlocked: Played Dragon Age: The Veilguard for 17 hours straight

[daryldixonfanfiction]

What you fight for! pt.13 - the white-tailed deer (*18+)

Masterlist

Summary: The love grows but so does the fear of what it would cost if it was lost…

Warnings: *18+, SMUT!, age gap, unprotected p in v, manhandling, protective!Daryl, stranger!danger, unaliving, fluff, nightmares, pregnancy symptoms, anxiety attack, angst

wc. 5.8k

Illinois, a state in the midwest was how far they had traveled on foot.

They had found a car but november's dropping temperatures made the roads slippery and dangerous, so instead they used it as shelter for the night.

The temperature was just above freezing inside the car, making them depend on each other for warmth, or more so Julia. Daryl was like a compatible heater beneath the blanket, his body radiating a warmth that kept her feet from freezing and her hands from turning numb. Daryl breathed into her hair mumbling incoherently as he often did when he was sleeping. The sound of rain softly hitting the car framed them inside and she didn't know if that was the reason she hadn't been able to fall asleep or just the overall restlessness in her body? She laid there in the backseat with Daryl spooning her and a few walkers had bumped into the car but Daryl stayed dead asleep which surprised her, he usually woke to such sounds. But the protection the car provides and the fact that he had trouble sleeping nowadays she knew he was exhausted. And she herself was so exhausted she couldn't keep her eyes closed for long before she would wake.

His body expands with each breath and shrunk with each exhale. Her head rests on top of his arm and his other is draped above her waist where she protects her growing stomach with her own.

If Daryl saw, Julia knew that he would know and that it would be over. Along their travels the paranoia had grown significantly, always in the back of her mind and some days she just decided to pretend to herself that she wasn't. But she was showing too much to ignore the little one growing inside of her and she was very self aware she was showing, even if it was still in that awkward stage where someone could mistake her as fat, but they were not eating enough to gain weight, which also would be the reason he would know.

Dressing in warmer clothes was the best way to conceal her pregnancy, the puffer jacket hiding the bump completely giving her a little more time to figure out how she was going to continue hiding it as she grew.

Daryl never spoke of his fears but it was obvious they existed loudly in his mind and body. Notesting most of the times his fears exhibited themselves as protectiveness, anger or when he would scold her...But she could tell that it was affecting his sleep and dreams.

Daryl twitched in his sleep as if startled and she was suspecting he was experiencing recurring nightmares. Each night was the same but lately it had worsened. It would start with mumbling, then the twitching and his grip would grow so tight, and he would continue holding her like that until she whispered softly, hushing him and stroking his head until he was soothed enuff to sleep peacefully. First she had thought it was episodes of night terrors, like small children had, but it's rare to remember a night terror. Nightmares you remembered when you woke and he seemed to remember them, though he never spoke of it.

His body twitched once more, his mumbling growing more desperate as he held onto her. Julia turned to lay on her back so she could properly soothe him. Daryl was clearly someone that had been deprived of physical touch, his body screaming to be held and comforted in her embrace. Stroking his head she listened closely and for the first time in his sleep he said her name, repeating it over and over. Julia stroked his face, shushing softly like one did when putting a baby to sleep, but nothing seemed to soothe, making her worry what made him so terribly frightened.

“Daryl,” she whispered. “Daryl, you need to wake up.”

To her command his grip losende, it was too dark to see if his eyes were open, but she could feel his eyes there and the way his breathing changed.

“Julia?” His deep voice spoke into the dark.

“I’m here,” she reassured, her hand returning to stroke his head. “It was just a dream.”

His hand found her face, thick fingers brushing along the apple of her cheek, softly feeling her there. They were already so close, the backseat not ideal for sleeping. His forehead was pressed to hers and she shut her eyes mirroring his hands caressing her face, her fingers brushing against stubble and she whispered,

“It’s okay, you can tell me.”

His breathing became heavy and she could feel him shake his head as if in an inner battle was preventing him from expressing his mind.

“Don’t fight it, just tell me.” she encouraged. “I’m here for you.”

Without warning he leaned into her lips, his tongue eager to feel her. She made a startled sound into his mouth before she could react and kiss him back. This was new, he had never kissed her like this before, but she recognized the way she could feel him searching for something within her. Pulling away, her breath now as heavy as his - she maneshed a breathy,

“Okay.”

She moved from lying on her back to lying on her side. Daryl's mouth found her neck, sucking and leaving kisses all over. Leaning into it, her hand reached back to pull him closer by the neck. He pushed his clothed front against the curve off her lower back, she automatically arched herself against him, grinding in sync to his movements as he grew harder.

“Julia,” Daryl said almost pleadingly.

Julia had never heard him so desperate, so vulnerable and she reached behind herself, her hand finding his erection and began to slowly rub it before she set him free. Daryl made a sound into her hair when she grasped his length and began stroking it up and down. His hips began to trust, eager for that friction her hand provides a few times before he stopped and began pulling at her jeans. Julia instinctively guided his hand away from getting too close to her stomach and placed it on to her hip where she knew he liked to be. She unbuckled her belt, he assisted in pulling them all the way off, discarding it onto the floor along with her underwear. Julia reached bind once more and took his length, guided him against her warmth between her slick folds back and forth as she grew wetter, lobbing him in with her arousal. Daryl was gripping onto the meat of her hip, assisting in the back and forth motion but she could hear him struggling, holding himself from pushing himself inside of her. Pressing him against her entrance in the final stroke he slips inside slowly and they bothe gasp at the feeling. He fitted her perfectly, filling her up and stretching her out.

He begins to move inside of her as he takes her face and kisses her more gently this time, then pulls away and breaths against the chell of her ear,

“You feel so good.”

Julia's heart fluttered to his admission, he always was the most verbal and emotionally connected when making love. And this was truly making love. The way the intimacy between them was far beyond having sex. There were so many feelings pot into the way he pushed himself in and out, the way he spoke and kissed her so passionately. There was so much trust and honesty when their bodies were connected it felt like they were making love on a sole bonding level.

The glas of the car is fogged and the temperature has risen by the energy their bodies provide. Daryl’s calloused fingers drags along her thigh, squeezing and grabbing as he grunts softly into her neck. Thick fingers grab her thigh, holding her leg up where it bends, allowing him to push himself deeper. Julia whined in pleasure and Daryl swore under his breath. The car rocks softly, there wasn't enough space for trusting but the slow pace was just as pleasurable, even more so. She paid attention to how he felt inside of her, his breathing and the sounds he made. There was something beautiful in the way he sounded so vulnerable and free, enhancing that pressure between her legs. Julia held onto his wrist as he rocks into her, and she said out of breath,

“I love how you feel inside of me.”

“Yah?” His voice was laced with pleasure.

“Yes..I always feel the safest when you're inside of me.”

Daryl pulled almost all the way out, before he entered fully to the hilt. He stayed like that for a few seconds before placing her leg back down, his grip returning to the meat of her hip. Agonizingly slow his hips rock into her delicately, turning her head to cash his lips, kissing him tenderly. He made a low sound into her mouth and when he did a particularly firm push she had to break the kiss, her body's senses having become significantly heightened the more she grew in her pregnancy. A lot of the times the pleasure consumed her so completely she could hardly find the words she wanted to say in their moments of intimacy. He always expressed how good she felt and she wanted him to know how good he made her feel in return.

Julia loved how attentive he was, his mindfulness of her pleasure, though she had noticed his focus was significantly more focused on her which she struggled to understand, until she realized his source of pleasure depended on her own. When she made sounds he would make her do it again until she fell apart..and only then would he allow himself to chase his own high. And that she loved. She loved…

Him.

A part of her new he liked her far more than he let on. But still she needed to hear him say it, though she could feel that he did, making her heart flutter every time he would look at her. She had learned along their journey that his primary love language was physical affection, his arms always holding her close at night, his hands always finding a reason to touch her, when he guided her with a hand on the small of her back during the day. They had danced around their clear affection for each other, never verbalizing it. And she wondered if it was due to whatever relationship they were in the process of. It was a titleless thing that didn't have much of an explanation behind it. It had just naturally grown to life which she herself thought was the most beautiful kind of love. A love that was not forced or planned, but just happened.

Daryl forced her mouth back onto his, the kiss growing as desperate as his hips pushing into her. The overwhelming pleasure of his accelerated pace builds the coil in her lower stomach, the pressure between her legs almost overwhelming as she begins to reach that point. The thumping pulse in her ears grows louder, her face and body flushing with the warmth that sends true her. She can barely breath as the coil finely brakes and the warm wave of pleasure washes over her as it crashes down, wave after wave. Daryl's movements didn't stop, they never did when he knew she had reached her peak, overstimulating her but it was a pleasurable pain. It had her body shaking and her eyes seeing stars.

With a final deep push, he buried himself inside, pulsating as he spilled his warmth. His sound of release was the most vulnerable she had ever heard him before. Instead of his primal growl, he whimpered into her mouth, his body shuddering against hers as he stills inside. The feeling of his warmth filling her as they catch their breath Julia couldn't help but to wonder if he finished inside of her on purpose? Often at times it felt like he did. His pullout game was inconsistent and sometimes it feels like he intended to make her pregnant, like he didn't care for the repercussions or like he had forgotten they exist.

Daryl snuggled closer, her hand returning to protect her growing stomach, it had grown into a habit now, never letting him get too close.

He felt completely calm against her now as if all he needed was to be comforted, like a child trapped in a man's body. He was sound asleep once more, his nightmare forgotten and his breath against her neck. Sleep was beckoning her as well and she guest he was so tired to the point he stayed inside of her even though he had turned soft.

In a white dust, farmlands stretch out as far as the eye can see.

The ground had become frozen, the frost covered grass crunching beneath their feet as they stride true the field. Daryl looked to the clouds above,

“I think it’s gonna snow,” he said knowingly.

“Yah,” Julia agreed, tilting her gaze towards the sky. “Looks like it.”

Her nose and cheeks were rosy, she looked pale, but he had grown used to it by now. Though his worry for her health pulled at his heart and very much so when he had failed in providing medication. He watched as she adjusted the hood back down, having slipped off when she looked to the sky. Her hands looked cold, the tip of her fingers a little red, she dug them back into her pockets, probably searching for some warmth there.

A pack of canada goose flies in formation, their distant honks cashing his attention. Just when they flew out of eye sight Julia slipped but he was quick to grab her arm, preventing her from falling to the ground. And even though she was clearly fine he couldn't help the burning irritation flaming inside of him, she was so clumsy and unaware of her surroundings it wouldn't be long before she really did hurt herself.

“Damnit, would you at least watch where ya going?” He scolds, his heart beating loudly in his chest. But as she stares at him, exposition hurt - the anger dissipates just as fast as it came. “I’m sorry,” he apologized.

Daryl hadn't known how to tell her the truth. How he needed her far, far more than she needed him, how the mere thought of losing her, the best fucking thing that could ever have happened to him, made him feel like his heart was going to stop.

Because as his love for her grew, so did the fear. And he found it very…discomforting. He felt as if it covered his eyes, made him make irrational decisions, say irrational things..Hurt people when they threatened it, threatened her. It overran many other thoughts and it wasn't warm and cozy as some people made it out to be. It was downright painful at times and he didn't know how to properly cope, nor where to put those feelings of fear bleeding into his dreams, haunting him in the middle of the day, creeping up on him when he least expected it. Like a cruel reminder love was never meant for someone as broken as him. So he suppressed it, in hope hiding from it could somehow make it go away. But it only made his dreams about Julia grow so much more unpleasant. Images of her in his arms, lifeless and cold, and when he wakes the feeling is still there. And maybe he was beginning to believe that something was gonna take her from him this time, that he was gonna lose her. The mere thought of it coming true was unbearable, it felt like he was falling, like he couldn't breathe properly.

“Daryl, Daryl?” Julia's muffled voice echoed. “Daryl, are you okay?”

He leaned against the railing of the wooden fence holding his chest. It felt like his body was going numb without his control and no matter how much he tried to breathe the heart pounding feeling in his chest wouldn't allow it.

"Daryl?” Her gentle hands took his face, her touch as grounding as her voice. “Can you hear me?” he nods. “I need you to take a deep breath for me.” And he does, his chest expanding with the frigid aire. “And out." He exhales, feeling how the ringing in his ears subsides to only her soft voice, the voice that pulled him out of nightmares, the voice that he woke to each morning. “And again,” she says. “In and out.” And he followed her voice out of the darkness.

Opening his eyes he realized he had kept them closed meeting warm pools of brown.

“There you are,” Julia’s face etched in consurne, brushing hair away from his eyes. ”What happened?”

He could really feel it now - and maybe for the first time he acknowledged how truly terrified he was, but he wasn't about to tell her that…so he lied. “Nothing. It’s just the…could air all of a sudden.”

“Daryl…

“I promise, it’s nothing,” he ensures, pulling her hands gently away from his face, taking her by the hand to continue walking. Because he could not face his fears and he didn't want her to worry, it was enuff she knew about his dreams.

As they continue past the fence Julia halts, pointing out a pack of white-tailed deer up ahead.

“Yah, never seen dear before?” He questions.

“Not one like that,” she said in awe, pointing to the snow wight dear amongst the others. “Have you ever seen one before?”

“Can’t say I have,” he said, finding himself watching with the same awe as she and for a moment the distress of fear was forgotten.

In all his years of hunting he had never come across a white stag. It didn't look real, its striking color standing out from its pack like a celestial being amongst the living. He couldn't help his eyes as they fell on her and found himself recognising that same beauty.

In this bleach world filled with death and decay, Julia was the white-tailed deer, in his eyes she was.

“It’s a good omen,” Julia said.

Though he never believed in such things he found himself intrigued. “What does the omen say? ”

“A sign of good things to come.” Julia said with a spark in her eyes.

A snowflake landed on her cheek, he washed it melt as the world around them seemed to hold its breath. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but yet again he couldn't seem to say the words as his thumb subconsciously reached her cheek.

Julia couldn't help but feel anxious.

The great fear for Daryl's reaction, what he would say, his temper, to be abandoned in the most vulnerable state she had ever been in was downright terrifying, and the future felt so terribly uncertain. There was an immense amount of guilt about the situation, a guilt her state of stress was affecting the little one was stressing her out even more. And she hoped her attempt of hiding the much profound 13 week bump with the elastic wrap around her stomach was not affecting its development negatively, she was just trying to buy some time.

Julia's heart rate would pick up every time Daryl would look at her and often at times it was due to her feelings but now it was mostly caused by the fear of being found in a lie that would ruin everything they had bild so far. So once again when she would feel his eyes on her she simply pretended nothing was different. That the baby isn't making her physically ill, scared to death of everything that it would mean to bring an innocent life into the world that she yet had saved. Or if it even was possible to do so? But what she was gonna do was try.

She wondered how long it would last, how long before the world would crumble beneath her feet and she would be all alone with a baby. What was she to do then, she didn't know, she hadn't thought that far. But what she did know was she truly wanted it, would love and protect it with all that she was until her last breath.

His touch is warm and soft against her cheek. Staring back at him into his deep watercolor eyes there was no such intent the irrational fear had made her mind believe. All she saw was a man with a heart full of love, a softness she had always yearned for. There wasn't any reason for her to be so afraid but she was, and maybe it was more due to the baby then the relationship itself?

The landscape was turning wight, snow covering everything it touched, draping nature in its winter coat. She had always thought of winter as a dreadful thing and she felt naive having romanticized that pregnancies would be the most wonderful thing to ever experience when every day was more about survival than anything, to endure the intense hunger, stress, exhaustion and all the things that went inside her head. So when they took shelter inside the barn for the night all she did was curl into herself and sleep, but when she woke in the morning it felt like no amount of rest could make the exhaustion go away - and when Daryl went out hunting she was left fighting the urge to not close her eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep” Daryl had said and she answered, “I won’t.”

Waking up she was still alone, and she knew Daryl wouldn't come back empty handed. He was persistent, stubborn but most of all he was scared. A part of her new way he didn't allow her to come with, that it had to do with yesterday's panic attack. She recognised it instantly, though for a split second she had thought he was having a heart attack when he was hunched over, clutching his heart and leaning against the fence as if he was going to pass out.

There was something in his eyes that made her heart ache. It felt like whatever he was avoiding, hiding from so desperately was slowly destroying him. Daryl had this deep need to be the strong one, always proving he wasn't weak, that he wasn't scared of anything. But that mindset was his poison. It made her feel helpless in her attempts of soothing him when it gradually was getting worse to the point she had to help him breathe. She had tried but he didn't want to talk about it, just brushed it off like it was nothing.

Stepping out just outside the barn, squatting down to pee for what felt like the hundredths time she stared off into the horizon wondering if it would be squirrel or rabbit for lunch, then pulled up her pants and tried to suck in her stomach. But it was impossible to button them at this point, making her secure it with the belt instead. She was definitely running out of time and it surprised her that Daryl hadn't figured it out, he noticed everything. Maybe she was a terrible person to be doing this to him when he hadn't done anything wrong? Daryl would be absolutely livid when he figured out how long she had known without saying anything or he would just abandon her, which was most likely to happen and what scared her the most.

Picking up sticks that were dry enough for cocking whatever Daryl would bring back, or if he would bring back anything by the time he had been gone. The pit of her stomach sank of the thought if he had just left, but she pushed the intrusive thought down knowing it was just irrational fear playing tricks on her. Cradling the pile of sticks in her arm as she keeps close to the barn like Daryl had told her to, picking up whatever she could find hoping it was not too wet by the snow. Her eyes kept looking to the direction he had headed out hoping to see his familiar figure heading her way. And when the familiar sound of footsteps from behind Julia felt instant relief. But turning around she was met with an unfamiliar face.

A wounded man stumbled her way.

“Stop!” Julia ponts her gun at the man and he stops, putting his hands up in surrender. “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll shoot!”

"Please,” the man pleaded with his hands shaking. “My foot is broken and I haven’t eaten in days. I don’t want to die out here, please.”

The man looked weak, neither did he feel like a threat and didn't seem to be violent more desperate than anything and she wanted to help him. So she lowered her gun, feeling compassion more than fear and put away her weapon back into her pocket leading him inside the barn to offer one of their last canned foods. Knowing Daryl was a skilled hunter she knew they would be fine and the man needed it more then they did.

“We don’t have much I’m afraid,” she said walking inside with the man behind her.

He was quiet but she figured it was due to exhaustion and hunger. She looked back at him and gave him a reassuring smile before turning her back to grab the canned food in her pack. When she kneeled down to open her pack there was a hit to her head and everything turned black.

Waking up with a distinct ache in the back of head she sat up slowly, her mind trying to make sense of where she was and why she was on the floor. She wasn’t sure how much time passed as she sat there confused, staring at the wide open barn door until Daryl's broad frame emerged with two cottontails strapped at his hip.

“Where’s our stuff?”

“Stuff?” she echoes.

Daryl moved closer to kneel in front of where she sat and asked, “Julia, did anything happen while I was gone?” and she just stared up at him as her memory began coming back.

“Julia?” he repeats when she doesn't respond.

“I was outside collecting firewood,” she began. “I was helping someone…”

“Somone?” he repeats.

“He had hurt his leg and I was gonna give him some of our food…I thought..I didn't think he would…that he…

“Julia, I need ya to tell me exactly what happened, okay?”

“Okay,” she swallowed anxiously as her heart rate sped up, notesting the difference in his tone, a warning of something dangerous.”

“Did he touch ya?”

“No.”

“Did he hurt ya?”

There was silence on her part. The way he said hurt made her fear for what he would do to the man.

“I’m gonna ask ya one more time and you’re gonna answer me…Did he hurt ya?”

“I don’t know, I had my back turned from him and the next thing I knew I felt this pain in the back of my head.”

“So he hit ya.”

“I think so, yes.”

He reached to where it hurt, his touch a gentle contrast from his unforgiving frown as if examining the damage along her scalp. She couldn't lie, it hurt. It really did but she tried to not show it. Not give him more reason for his anger to boil over.

Closing her eyes to take a breath, hoping to relive some of that pain she then opened them and was horrified to meet the eyes she feared the most, the eyes that screamed destruction. It was a very scary thing to see the mental switch happening right before her very eyes.

“Daryl..” she took his hand as if to keep him from losing it. “I’m fine, okay..You don’t have too-

But he was too far gone, too consumed by rage to hear what she was saying as he gathered his crossbow off the floor, heading straight for the door. There was this sinking feeling in her stomach - she pushed herself to her berings just in time to grab him by the hand,

“Wait! Where are you going?!” He was tense and boiling hot, anger radiating off of him. “wat- wat are you gonna do?”

“Get our stuff back.” He announced.

“No you're not. Listen to me, I'm fine okay. I- I probelully just passed out and hit my head or something.”

“We both know that’s bulshit. He hit ya so hard ya passed out. And if he had hit ya hard enuff he could've killed ya.”

“But he didn't, he didn't and I promise I’m f-”

“Don’t,” Daryl warned, his voice edging on something murderous and cold. And even if the anger was not aimed towards her she felt a deep fear hearing it, much like that time in Pittsburg.

Daryl gave one simpele order of, “stay inside.” and he slipped from her grasp.

She moved forward quickly, but before she could get to him - Daryl shut the door in her face. Pushing the door it didn't budge,

“Did you just lock me in?”

There was no response. She felt panic rise and she called out, voice desperate,

“Daryl no!”

There was nothing, onely his footsteps crunching in the snow, growing further and further away and she knew she had failed to stop him and all she could do was wait for his return.

Morning turned to midday. Daryl unlocked the door, letting himself inside - as if nothing had happened and Julia was quick to move towards him but still kept herself at a distance. Watching him place there bags down her heart hammered in her throat, she broke there silence and asked hesitantly,

“Is he dead?”

There was no response, no explanation. Daryl began to tend to the rabbits to cook for lunch, her eyes burned because she knew, of course she knew, the man was dead. Only, only if she never helped him he maybe would still be alive.

Swallowing her tears Julia walked past him to the outside and began to pick up the pile of sticks that she had gathered before to start the fire.

Eating was a quiet thing.

She didn't want to talk, not even look at him. Daryl had refused to listen to her words, had ignored her completely and locked her inside the barn where she had cried until his return, and atop of it all there was no explanation, nothing and that hurt. His actions had cut deep but at the same time she loved him. So..she rather say nothing than to say things that she knew could hurt him. Neither did she want to give him any reason to be justified in what he had done.

In her eyes the world had always been divided in good and evil. Right and wrong. She didn't know how hands that killed could touch her so lovingly, how she could have shared such intimate moment’s with someone who could switch in a second. She knew he wasn't evil -or a bad man - she knew it deep within and felt it just as strongly.

After eating and the bones in the fire she could feel Daryl stare a hole into her from across.

“Why don’t ya say what's on year’ mind?” Daryl questions.

“Why?” Julia was quick to shoot him an incredulous look. “I told you not to, I told you no and you just went ahead and-

"I did what I had to.” Daryl cut her off, as if it explained his actions.

“How can you even justify that?” she countered. “You - you shouldn’t-”

"Shouldn't what?” Daryl paused, looking at her. His body leaning forward from where he sat on the log.

Julia opened her mouth to explain, but she couldn't find words quickly enough and Daryl went on, pointing towards her injury briefly, “What do ya think should have happened to him then?”

Julia blinked, several times trying to find her words. He could be intimidating when things got heated and he was so straightforward compared to herself that was more the conflict evodent type.

“Huh?” Daryl demands.

“It’s wrong,” Julia whispered, expression hurt, “To kill someone who’s already hurt.”

Daryl questioned, “And what about when he recovers and goes out and does the same thing to some other survivor? Ya ever think about that?”

She felt a bit naive to not have thought that far, but it didn't justify it either.

Julia shook her head, ”I don’t think it’s for anyone to decide if a person deserves to live or die. Fear and hunger can make one do irrational things. He was-”

“He was going to die either way,” Daryl answered coldly, “Now get your stuff so we can get going before we waste more daylight.”

Her brows were pulled down, he sounded greatly annoyed and she didn't understand how little of a meaning of what he had done meant to him. How could he kill without feeling anything? Was there really no moral compassion in his heart - just this anger that fueled his actions?

“Fine.” Julia snapped, stomping inside and grabbed her pack to then quickly storm off to who knows where, she could just not stand the thought that he didn't care.

“Where ya going?!” Daryl questioned but she didn't answer, “Hey! Were you going?!”

“Away from you!” she shouted back.

She started to run.

And she knew that this was a tantrum of some kind, she didn't even know why she was running, her mind could just not seem to calm down from the turmoil that was making her behave this way.

“The hell you ain’t!”

A hand grabbed her wrist and with a heavy pull she was lifted and slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, sending her feet kicking uselessly into the air as he began to walk in a different direction. Her instant reaction was surprised by the sudan movement, the other reaction was pure panic, struggling to push herself off of him to not suffocate the baby between their bodies.

"Put me down!" Her voice cracked, "You're hurting me!”

His grip loosened and in the same moment he put her down, the turmoil exchanged into fear of not knowing if accidents could happen. He reached out to hold her in place, as if he was worried she would run again.

“Don’t ever do that!” she swatted his hand away. “I’m not a doll!”

She felt herself trembling as she stood there before him, he stepped closer and she stepped back, his gaze searching hers. He reached out once more, gently and took her upper arm, pulling her towards himself without a word into his chest - his beating heart thumps loudly against her ear.

“I’m sorry,” his deep voice rumbled from his chest, yet it sounded so small. “Don’t run from me, please.”

Pt.14 masterlist

[petbrain]

there was a 2000s themed party at our college yesterday and i didnt go. three friends sent me random incoherent screaming as an audio message.

later i receive a video with context: they were screaming "WHERE ARE YOU" "IT'S YOUR SONG" "WE LOVE YOU" as the pt version of Who Let the Dogs Out played in the background

[thisfanisgonesorry]

please make a part2 to ironhead where he actually ties up a vibrator to her…….pretty please….

thank you for the req cutie pie!! i have another hobie fic coming out in a few days and then probs going to a diff fandom until i get possessed again (aka ill get halfway through my carlos drabble and then ill end up coming up w/ another hobie fic)

tags: overstim YEAHH, touch denial, bondage, shibari but less than before, dom/sub, i mean v heavy dom/sub. cums in pants.

my beta reader thinks i lace these fics with crack

pt 1 >> IRONHEAD listening to let me hear you scream - ozzy osbourne

✰ “Y’re doing great, love.” He purred me through my orgasm. 

I kept my eyes harshly closed, wrists tied above my head and legs tied together with a magic wand held nicely in place by firm ropes. I writhed helplessly against the restraints, the sensitivity getting worse with each moment.

“Calm down, baby.” He whispered, pressing his large hand on my stomach to push me against the mattress in hopes to ease the movement.

“Hobie, please.” I cried.

“Tell me that wit’ y’r eyes open.”

I opened my eyes lazily, trying desperately to look up at him. He was knelt next to me with wide legs, hovering over me. All I could focus on was his aching cock, stuck in the confines of his tight jeans. He was so hard that a wet patch was forming through the fabric, yet he was in complete control.

I let out a pathetic whine at the sight, knowing there was nothing more appealing to my lust-addled mind than to touch him and get him off.

“Love.. Are you cryin’?” He cooed softly.

“It’s too much.” I pleaded with him.

“Y’re only 5 in.”

A choked cry clawed its way from my throat at his words. The stickiness on my body was driving me crazy, covered in sweat, spiderwebs and cum; the view to him was nothing short of immaculate but he simply sat there like the world’s most self controlled man.

“Let me touch you.” I whined. “Please, Hobie.”

“No.”

“Please! You’re so hard, ‘s cryin’ for me, wants me so bad.” I sobbed. “Gonna twitch under my fingers.. Twitch on my tongue, gonna—”

“You’re riling yourself up.”

“Hobes, ‘m gonna cum, please, please, please.” I helplessly begged.

He took in a sharp inhale, steadying his breathing as he watched carefully, running his hand up and down my thigh. “Go on, love. Make it real pretty. Let m’hear you.” He spoke, attempting to speak clearly to show just how restrained he was.

I let out an incoherent mess of cries and begs, cumming all over the wand and squirming against the restraints again. His other hand began to brush my sweaty hair out of my face, watching the way his torture made me unwind.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” He gritted his teeth, trying to contain a groan.

“Mhmphf— Hobie.” I whimpered, the orgasm dying down and the burning overstimulation returning.

I used all the strength in my body to stop squirming enough to push myself onto my side, pressing my face into his strong thigh, the position was uncomfortable due to my wrists being tied to the headboard but it was the price to pay to feel him against my skin.

“Darlin’..” He laughed nervously.

“I need it.” I moaned, looking up at him through hazed, cock-drunk eyes. I nuzzled my face pathetically against his jeans. “Need you, need you so, so, so bad.” I rambled.

“You have me.” He answered, his voice shaking slightly.

A loud moan, followed by a loud ‘ah, fuck’ filled the air. I brought my knees to my chest as comfortably as I could with my legs tied together. Small whines, gasps and pants filled the air as I desperately tried to get closer to the handsome man watching every move I made.

“Y’re so desperate, ain’t ya?” He teased lightly, keeping his hands to himself, knowing otherwise he would probably break his iron will.

“Please.” I sobbed, 6 orgasms in and completely ruined beyond belief.

The squirming, thrashing, writhing, tugging, awkward angle and general length of the entire evening meant all 3 of us were worn down. The third, loud as day, snapped. Hobie perked up when he heard the sound of the webbing breaking, freeing my wrists from its hold. He was kind of impressed briefly; my hands quickly wrapped around his waist in a hug, pulling him closer to me.

“I should punish y’for that.” He spoke softly, stroking my sweaty hair once again. Though the fact I simply pulled him into a hug instead of going for his hardness was what convinced him otherwise.

I shook my head to say ‘nuh-uh’ as I pressed open mouth kisses on his jeans. “Close again.” I warned. “So close. I can’t—”

“Y’can do it, love.” He spoke sweetly, his hand gripping the back of my thigh to keep me in place as his other left my face to harshly grip the bed sheets. He leaned back slightly for a better view and that’s when he wrecked himself.

My hips jerked and spasmed, simultaneously grinding into and away from the vibrator. My breathing was racing and the sounds eliciting from my body only raised more and more in volume.

“Right there..” I pleaded.

“Let me hear you scream.” He groaned.

There was not much else I could do but abide by his request, though in the mindless state (despite the fact it was quite intentional), I reached to palm him through his jeans, crying his name out in several moans. 

I could feel him switch under me as the sounds left my throat and hung heavy in the air. His hips jerked to the movement before he grabbed my hand harshly.

“Don’t..” He whispered, halting the movements though the pressure of it pressed against his dick was still enough.

“Please.. Need you.” I tried to whisper back, though it definitely didn’t come out like that. I continued pressing open mouth kisses on his jeans and trying to move my hand from under his. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, breathing heavily and trying to gauge what the correct thing to do was as my hips continued to stutter against the wand, he kept a keen eye on me, his grip letting up just enough that I could stroke him at the speed he chose, limiting the movements.

“Y’re filthy.” He groaned, watching me lick a stripe up the fabric. His hips jerked at the sight and his composure was falling slowly.

He found himself giving in to my touches as I squirmed at my own pleasure. “Fuck, so much.” I breathed, mouthing his pants. “Ain’t 7 enough?”

“But y’re making m’feel s’good.” He panted.

“Can’t stop cumming.” I whined, feeling it get closer again as I desperately palmed at his cock; silently waiting for the permission to pull it out of his pants, the fact he was even letting me do this much was kind of a miracle.

HIs hips kept moving against my hand as he praised me quietly, watching me squirm into him, taking the punishment like a champ. He let out small moans and groans as he watched me palm him, nuzzling into him, pressing small kisses onto him, doing whatever I could in my goddamn right to worship him.

“Ngh— Fuck, ‘m cummin’ again—” I moaned, the downtime between each one was getting shorter and shorter and there’d either peak when I reached a moment of constant orgasm, or I believe I’d simply go numb and feel nothing but overstimulation and be a whining, crying mess, unable to orgasm any more.

His breathing hitched in his throat, he watched me writhe with that stupid lopsided grin, his jaw slack in awe as he desperately tried to fill his lungs with air. He felt that warm feeling in his stomach, noticing the telltale signs. “Shit, wait, y/n—”

His eyes closed, his jaw fell open and he gasped for air, small groans leaving his throat and his hips stuttering in place. His large hand forced me to stroke him through it, as he quickly accepted his fate.

“Fuck.” He hissed. “Let’s get y’fixed up, pretty baby.” He spoke quickly, pushing me off him, trying to be gentle despite his speed. He turned off the vibrator and let me relax, my tense body finally slump down into comatose limpness.

“Did you..?” I panted mindlessly.

“Shut up.” He mumbled, grabbing his pocket knife and slicing the webbing again, careful enough to not damage the wand, but quick enough to lay me down.

“Mhm, need’a washcloth.” I sighed, finally given a moment to sit back and catch my breath, finally able to relax after the considerate torture he put me through. “Feels gross.. All sweaty 'nd sticky.”

“I can see that.” He responded. 

I laid on my back, watching him through heavy eyes, he scrambled to discard the webbing that was tight on my legs and waist, collecting the loose web still stuck to the headboard, to put the wand away and then to get the damp cloth I needed to clean up.

He tried to stifle a laugh when he saw the wet patch on the bed. He knew, in this moment, he wasn’t one to laugh, but he found the view slightly impressive. He ran the damp cloth over anywhere that looked particularly gross, starting with my face for obvious reasons.

 “Anythin’ else y’need, love?”

“Dunno.” I hummed, he sat over me, removing his t-shirt and helping me put it on my body. It was worn, but it smelt like him. “You gonna let me see the mess you made?” I commented as he held my body upright.

“I.. No.” He spoke. “Y’look tired, darlin’.” 

“You embarrassed?” I asked softly.

“No..” He shook his head again, “A little. Just.. Fuckin’.. Gotta wash these now.”

I sighed, rolling onto my stomach and taking the pile of pillows in my arms, knowing that Hobie would come take his place underneath me soon enough, he just has to rid himself from his excitement.

He ran his hand smoothly down my spine, feeling the muscles relax under his fingertips.

“Go to sleep, darl’, ‘m gonna be a minute.”

“Wash ‘em tomorrow, I want you now.”

He took a sharp inhale, before finally giving in. “If I can’t get the stains out, you’re on clean up duty.” He threatened, though it was clear to tell it wasn’t genuine. He quickly slid into clean pj shorts before snaking his way into bed and pulling me away from the wetpatch and onto his chest.

“Hobes, missing somethin’.” I mumbled the reminder, being taken by sleep as I felt the warmth of his arms wrap around me.

“Mhm? What’s that?” 

“Where’s my ‘y’did so good’?”

“Y’did so good.” He huffed in amusement, placing a soft lingering kiss on my neck. “Y’took that real well, jus’ took everythin’ I gave ya’, ‘nd y’looked so pretty doin’ it, too. Wasn’t too much, was it?”

I shook my head weakly. “Was good.” I sighed, nuzzling into his neck and letting myself give into the exhaustion.

“I love ya’, darlin’.” He said finally, continuing his whispers of praise.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt XIV good omens season 2 (still not traumatic) episode 2

Here we go. It might not have been traumatic, but it has made me utterly in love with a fictional character. Great.

While everyone runs around between episode 1 and 2 to use the loo or fetch emotional support fruit, in preparation for my inevitable gay panic for Crowley, I eat an emotional support banana as the intro sequence plays.

I realise too late that bananas remind me of fellatio.

The episode begins. There are incoherent screams of BILDADDY through the chat. The phrase religious fervour and ecstasy comes to mind. I do not say it.

God and Satan are betting on a poor bloke so his goats and kids are going to be dead, Crowley has a permit to wreak havoc, Aziraphale is scandalised.

Gabriel's angel hair is very Lord Farquaad. Everyone agrees.

Jimbriel is determined to make his new dad proud, and rearranges all the books in alphabetical order of the first letter of the first sentence. Aziraphale struggles to compliment him.

CROWLEY LIVES IN THE BENTLEY. I'M READY TO RIP THROUGH REALITY'S FABRIC TO GIVE THAT IMMORTAL SOME LOVE AND AFFECTION. AND OF COURSE HE STILL KEEPS ALL HIS PLANTS AND HAS THEM IN THE BACK. @neil-gaiman WHY MUST YOU CAREFULLY CRAFT BEAUTY THAT BREAKS ME.

Anyway.

NO NOT ANYWAY I'M STILL RAGING BUT WE HAVE A SUMMARY TO DO AND I'M A FUCKING PROFESSIONAL GODDAMN IT.

Angels are assholes. Jimbriel is very supportive bookseller's son.

The shit-job subtlety attempt last episode was very powerful because TOGETHER THEY ARE STRONGER! *unicorn music*

Aziraphale strokes Crowley's chest. The fandom sobs.

Crowley suggests getting humans wet to make them 'vavoom' and the apple falls from my slack jaw mid bite.

Aziraphale and Crowley are shit at interpreting human media.

Job storyline. If I open my mouth I'll start scream-crying about how Crowley didn't even kill the goats. He had both heaven and hell's permission, orders from God and Satan, and he didn't even kill the goats. Anyway no we're not doing this now thanks.

Crowley introduces Aziraphale to food. Aziraphale goes ham on the ox rib while Crowley has a little spring awakening about his kinks. I eat my other emotional support banana in honour of the blowjob angles.

Crowley didn't even want to reveal that he'd saved the goats to Aziraphale even though Aziraphale was looking at him with betrayal, because it was for the goats and he wanted to-

Sorry. I'm so fucking normal about goats.

David Tennant and his son are having a HECK of a time.

All Crowley wanted to do was ask questions and christ if he isn't angelic who is he put goats' safety over his-

Bildaddy is the best cobbler and obstetrician. Gabriel is an idiot.

Back in actual time, Crowley gives up on Aziraphale mid-flashback and they saunter off to facilitate some lesbian romancing.

OUR BOOKSHOP. OUR CAR. PLENTY OF USE.

Boundaries, Aziraphale, please. Someone reminds us that the Bentley is all Crowley has left. I fill with preternatural RAGE again.

Aziraphale poor baby has a crisis over betraying heaven. Crowley comforts him even though Crowley fell so every defence of heaven is an attack to himself. I'm totally normal and start eating my emotional support kiwi.

Still eating my emotional support kiwi when the episode ends. Crowley says Aziraphale is too pure and angelic looking to be a demon which means that she doesn't see how pure and angelic she was while making the stars, she thinks she was marked in some way, imperfect. It is okay for her to fall, not Aziraphale.

Anyway yes summary all done.

BUT THE GOATS. CROWLEY DEFIED HEAVEN AND HELL FOR GOATS. AND-

END END THE SUMMARY NOW.