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chaichaiiskai · 2 years ago

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Hello, can I request a Baki x male reader smut

Like baki was in class and they were doing a quiz and he didn't do it and never even wrote on his paper because he was staring at reader who sat in front of him, and reader is a really pretty boy and pretty thick and smol like bunny And baki kinda has a thing for him, so the teacher assigned pretty boy as bakis tutor and they go to bakis place, and baki admits his feelings and they do the dirty 👉👈

baki hanma! x pretty boy! male reader

note: i’ve never written for baki before but fuck yeah i accept this request!! (if you see repeated paragraphs, its a tumblr glitch and i cant delete them w/o fuckin’ up the actual post so im sorry in advance 😭)

warnings: amab reader, male reader, he/him pronouns, homophobes dni, anal, fingering, unprotected sex,

How can a guy be so pretty? It doesn’t make sense.

Not to Baki at least, and he’s a pretty smart guy when he wants to be, which reminds him of the empty quiz paper on his desk.

For just a split moment he looks down at the paper after tearing his eyes away from you, sitting in front of him, diligently completing your quiz like the good student you are. Baki thinks you’re cute. Fuckable, actually, but he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better…

Eventually, his mind begins to wander as he stares at you, daydreaming, and sometime after, the teacher comes by and snatches his unfinished quiz from the desk, observing it. Baki hadn’t even written his name on it, let alone fill out of any of the answers. And what’s worse, pretty much everyone had already left the classroom for break besides Baki, you, and the teacher.

With a frustrated sigh, the man rubs at his forehead with one hand as Baki turns his attention from you for the first time in an hour to stare lazily at the irritated man in front of him.

“What’s the problem, old man? You’re gonna get wrinkles if ya keep thinkin’ too hard.” Baki smugly teased, crossing his arms over his well-built chest that’s a little too built for a third year High Schooler, leaning back in his seat with the most carefree look present on his face.

The irritation on the instructor’s face only gets worse but then he sighs, shaking his head. “If it weren’t for you, the class average wouldn’t be so low. You need a tutor…” His eyes roamed around the room for a split second before they landed on you, currently tapping away at something on your phone, completely unbothered and not listening to the other men chat in the classroom. That was until your heard your name being called, causing you to look up in curiosity at your teacher who’s now standing in front of your desk, motioning to your fellow classmate who’s now shamelessly staring you down with a smirk on his face.

Somehow, you’d ended up accepting your teacher’s (pleading) request to tutor the laziest (and hottest) student in your class. Now, you were walking by his side, looking like a tiny little thing in comparison to his hulking form despite being the same age and you were pretty sure you were a couple months older than him.

As Baki suggested, you would be tutoring him at his place and so here you were, walking with him to his home. As you approached, you took note of the egregious amounts of graffiti on the walls as well as the outside of his house, which piqued your interest. This seemed to not go unnoticed by Baki whilst you began to approach his front door as he spoke up, explaining the meaning behind the vandalism.

“‘s lot of people out there that I’ve fought who’ve lost, or people who want to fight me but know they can’t win, so this is the next best thing, the only thing they can do to save face. I don’t really mind, ‘s not a big deal.” He said, shrugging his shoulders as he took out his key to slide open the door and led you inside, taking off his shoes near the front door to start walking further into his home. You nodded sheepishly at his explanation, frowning a little at the thought of people being such cowards to do such a thing instead of facing him head on.

As you followed him deeper into his home, you realized the place was a lot cleaner than you’d anticipated and before you knew it, you were in his bedroom.

Baki watched curiously as you sat down on the floor at the table beside his bed and started to slowly unpack things from your bag, setting them on top of the table. He could practically smell how nervous you were and it amused him greatly. He was also thinking about other things (like how soft and pliable you look) but he saved those thoughts for later.

Following your example, he sat down at the table right beside you, barely leaving any space between the two of you, your knees knocking together. Subconsciously, you shivered and set the last of your things down onto the table, not daring to meet his observant eyes as he stares at the side of your face, waiting for you to do something. In your peripheral you can see him with his elbow resting on the table now, his chin propped up in the palm of his hand, staring at you with amusement lingering in his gaze.

Your tongue darts out of your mouth and swipes at your lips in an attempt to wet them which doesn’t go unnoticed by Baki. In fact, he wonders what it would be like to kiss you, better yet, to get beneath your school uniform.

Before he can open his mouth to /insinuate/ these thoughts, you’re already speaking up.

“So.. I suppose we should work on homework first for class and… and you can ask me for any help i-if you need it..?” You suggested, though it sounded more like a question than a set plan of action.

Baki grinned lazily.

How cute.

He thought about it briefly but then hummed in acknowledgement, deciding to play along for now before he could put his own plans into action.

Surprisingly, to you at least, Baki had started working on his own homework beside you, what was even crazier was that he’d finished before you and now he was just staring again. Almost like he was waiting for you to finish up with your responsibilities before he’d swipe down and attack you. The thought made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but it wasn’t exactly out of fear.

Some time passed, the room filled with strangely comfortable silence aside from the sounds of your pencil and your breathing. Noticing you finish off the last question, Baki set his plan in motion.

“L/N-san… anyone ever tell you how pretty you are?” Baki nonchalantly asked, watching as you skittishly flinched at the compliment, snapping your gaze towards to him to look at him in bewilderment, reminding him of a startled animal.

Unable to help himself, he reaches towards you and cradles your chin in his hand, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip in curiosity. His eyes are studying your face as he looks down at you, once again reminding you just how easily he could snap you in half even if he barely lifted a finger. However, the hold he had on your chin was gentle and caring, he was mesmerized by the feel of your lips over the rough skin on his calloused thumb, along with your skin.

Soft. Pillowy. Moisturized. You take care of yourself. He likes that. It is a strike contrast to his skin that’s been hardened by brutality and overzealous training that’s turned his entire body into borderline stone. You were just so soft, he wanted to see what other parts were the same.

And despite not getting a verbal and coherent answer from you regarding his previous question, he continues.

“Prettier than any girl I’ve seen. I’d call ya handsome but…” He watches as you blink in surprise, your cutesy lashes kissing your cheeks as you look back up at him, slightly pouting at the start of his backhanded compliment. “— don’t think that fits you. Y’know… ya kinda remind me of a little bunny. You’re skittish like one. And you’re tiny. Bet I could pick you up with one hand.”

His sultry voice and the teasing tone makes something stir inside of you, along with an unneeded erection in your pants. Were your pants always this tight? Sure, they always fit a little snug around your hips and thighs but— What was he trying to say? It would probably be in your best interest to ask him.

“A bunny…? Is that a compliment or.. or an insult?” You softly ask, awaiting for his answer, hanging onto every word that leaves his mouth. For some reason, your gaze has dropped from his eyes to the little beauty mark above his his top lip, and then down to his lips as they move, speaking sweet things to you.

“A compliment, of course. I wouldn’t insult the guy I like, after all.”

You paused, looking back at his eyes, your nose scrunching up along with your eyebrows as you decipher his words, the shock apparent in the look you’re giving him.

Baki smiles.

You really are a little bunny. Makes him want to protect you at all costs, even though he’s sure you can take care of yourself, which is something he also likes about you.

And then you parrot his words right back at him, mainly in disbelief as you feel the heat rise in your face and the rest of your body.

“You… you like me? Like— romantically or..?”

“Pfft. Yeah, romantically. I think you’re cute, smart, adorable, pretty… I wanna get to know you better, and I think I know how to get started.” His words make you curious, eyeing him in suspicion as you may or may not have an idea at what he’s hinting at. “Is that so? Alright, well, I’m open to whatever you have in mind..” You whisper, not rejecting his advances in the slightest without directly stating that you felt the same way about him.

Truthfully, you’ve had a tiny bit of a crush on the class’s sweetheart, but who didn’t? You weren’t even sure if he liked guys, especially not with the rumors of him having a girlfriend or two. But here he was, leaning in and smashing his lips against yours like he was trying to steal the oxygen straight from your lungs and give you the oxygen from his own.

You’d never been so passionately kissed before so it was easy to get lost in it, not even minding the way he effortlessly lifts you into his lap, your fingers tangling up in his cherry red hair, scratching at his scalp, causing him to moan at the unexpected affection.

As he’s holding you in his lap and your kiss turns into a flurry of open mouthed kisses, the sound of your soft pants being swallowed up by the larger man as he kisses you, his hands move down to squeeze at the plush of your ass, enjoying the feel of it in his hands. Rarely does he get to experience such softness beneath is fingers, he was going to cherish every second of this for as long as it went on.

With a little maneuvering from the both of you, you’re both soon rid of your school uniforms and were now in nothing but your boxers, bulging tents furiously rubbing against each other. Baki continued to fondle your ass while guiding your hips, rocking them back and forth so that were dry humping his cock with your own, his lips now connected to your neck. The sweet sounds you’re making spur him own as he litters your neck in love bites and marks that display that you’re his and only his.

The impatience between the two of you steadily grows but Baki takes the first step, standing up with you in his arms as he takes you to his bed and lays you down on top of it, moving to hover his bulky and muscular frame over your small but curvaceous one. In a moment of clarity, watching as he goes into the nightstand beside his bed to pull out a bottle of lube, you speak up.

“W-wait, what about your parents…?” You worriedly ask, not wanting to be caught in the middle of your risqué behavior by the adults in Baki’s home, to which he only chuckles and tugs your boxers down, exposing your bare lower body to his eyes. “I live alone. Don’t worry.” You squeak in surprise when you feel a rush of cold air brush over your cock, your shaft twitching as a bead of precum lands on your belly.

Baki grins at your reaction, finding you even more adorable as he tugs his own boxers down but not fully off, giving you a clear view of what he’s packing.

It’s big just like the rest of him. Should you really be all that surprised?

You gulped worriedly, instinctively backing up a little further up the bed away from him. “I— woah woah woah, I don’t think that’s gonna f-fit me.. Uh.. maybe I could just—“ “Ah ah ah. C’mon Y/N-sama,” he says, purring your first name in a way that instantly turns you into butter, “I’ll prep you first. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

Wait, boyfriend? Did that mean you two were exclusive now?

You had no time to ponder the thought when you felt something thick and slippery in your hole, instantly making your back arch off of the bed, a mewl of surprise, pain, and pleasure erupting from your parted lips.

“Haah..!”

Looking down to see the culprit of this strange feeling, you see that Baki’s lubed up his right hand and had stuck one of his calloused fingers in your ass, stretching you out with the meaty digit. After giving you a little time to adjust to the intrusion, he starts to pump it in and out, purposely hitting your prostate each and every time while he watched you squirm and call his name, begging him to slow down and give you some more time to adjust.

Baki does the opposite, in fact, he doesn’t stop fucking you stupid with his fingers until he watches you spray cum all over your belly, decorating your skin in your own white sticky nectar. Then, he slowly pulls his fingers out, watching you pant and tremble on top of his bed, your eyes glossy with blissful tears. You then watch as he scoops up the cum from your belly and sucks it from the fingers he’d just finished fucking you with.

“Fuck, you’re so cute… Think you can flip over on your stomach for me or do you need some help?” He asks you, watching as you looked up at him, still trying to calm down from your first orgasm of the evening, as well as seeing him eat your cum. When he gets no response, he laughs lowly and decides for you, promptly grabbing onto your plush hips and flipping you onto your stomach, propping you up on your knees so he can get a full view of your ass.

Pumping his cock a few times, he bites down onto his lip and grabs up the forgotten bottle of lube that was dropped onto the bed a little earlier, he pops it open and squirts a generous amount onto his cock and on your hole.

Then, he leans over you, pressing the tip up against your puckering hole while pressing his hand onto the bed beside your body, caging you in as he leans over to whisper in your ear. “I’ll go slow, just relax for me, will you? I know you can, bunny. You’re my good boy after all.” He whispers, kissing between your shoulder blades. The gesture and his words make your cock harden again even after cumming and you shake a little in shock at just how easily your body responded to him.

And that’s when you felt it, the ridiculous stretch of his tip as he began to push himself into your lubed up and slightly stretched hole. Baki grits his teeth as you start to swallow him up, making him groan in delight and satisfaction, going in inch by inch until his balls are snug against your perineum. He doesn’t move once he’s fully inside you and you don’t either, crying out as he’s stuffed you full. You’ve never felt so full in your life. It burned. It tingled. It hurt. It felt amazing. There were too many sensations going on at once and it was overwhelming you to the point of becoming delirious but Baki’s calming voice reeled you back down to reality with ease.

“You alright? Doesn’t hurt too much does it?”

You have half a mind to shake your mind but you know that any little movement would make the rest of your body move so you verbally responded instead, though your lips remained shut, a hum would suffice.

“Mm… mm.”

Baki chuckled and you lurched forward at the movement, making you gasp and suddenly scratch at his bed sheets, pulling at them as you buried your face into his pillow, smothering your face in the lingering scent of the shampoo he used. Sighing, he leaned back and rested his hands onto your hips, still not moving as he observes your body in this position. Your body was just as pretty as your face, he had his suspicions but this was exceeding beyond his expectations. He wanted to move, fuck you through the mattress and maybe even break the bed frame but he refrained, wanting to give you time to adjust. He knew that once he started he probably wouldn’t be able to stop or let up any of his movements so this was a the best course of options for the both of you.

However even he had his limits. As content as he was with you cockwarming him with your sweet ass, he wanted to start moving, and so did you.

Pulling about halfway out, he slammed back in, watching as your body bounced, especially your ass, and licked his lips, hearing the muffled scream come from you at his sudden movement. Then he waited a couple seconds to see if you’d protest but when you didn’t, he pulled back and thrusted again, watching in fascination as your ass rippled in waves with the impact from his hips. This earned yet another broken moan of pleasure from you, and so, he continued, rocking his hips at a slow pace, listening to your quiet cries of pleasure as he continued to grip on your hips.

The slow pace gradually increased in speed, and before you knew it, he was fucking you hard into his bed and you were pretty sure that if he wasn’t holding onto you he would have sent you right through the wall and out onto the street in front of his house.

Your little mewls and moans were music to his ears, mixing with his own groans and moans as he continued his rapid movements, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, the tip pushing against your prostate each and every time. The rigorous movement made your own cock bounce around without any restraint and you were sure you’d ended up dirtying up his sheets soon if he kept up like this.

What you weren’t expecting was him to suddenly pull back and slap your ass with his hand, making you cry out in shock, turning your head to the side so you could breath and then look back at him over your shoulder.

Looking back at you through his half-lidded gaze, he grinned at you and picked up his pace, just to watch your eyes flutter from the pleasure, your head lolling to the side as you were overcome with ecstasy and pain.

“Haah… sure this is your first time, bunny? You’re gobblin’ me right up with this fat jiggly ass of yours. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think your body was made for my cock and my cock only.” He teased, smacking your other ass cheek to leave them raw with two matching handprints.

Good luck going home after this, he’s not letting you leave, plus, its not like you’d be able to walk properly afterwards anyways. Luckily, you’ve got a loving new boyfriend to take care of you.

#baki the grappler #baki headcanons #baki x reader #baki x male reader #x male reader #baki hanma #baki hansma smut #baki x y/n #baki x you #baki hanma smut #male reader #male reader smut #x thick reader #x curvy reader

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fridayth13 · 1 year ago

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—when they hate you (or do they?)

↳ mammon, leviathan, mephistopheles, thirteen, and raphael × gn!reader (separately)

↳ genre: fluff(?), enemies to lovers-type beat | wordcount: 1.7k | warnings: cursing, lower demon tries to eat you (mammon), kissing mention (thirteen), you get locked in a closet by solomon (raphael)

↳ notes: when i tell you i worked on this for months 🤡 hfdfjkgdgjfdgjdg

—mammon

between the demeaning remarks from mammon and the fact that you wouldn't take his shit from day one, one can probably guess there'd be a problem

but lucifer appointed him to escort you and show you how things are in the devildom, so it's not like mammon could just say no

but eventually your constant bickering seemed to create a fifth type of migraine for lucifer, so he let mammon off the hook and told you to choose another one of his brothers to escort you around rad

you, being you (and still feeling very petty about mammon's comment of you needing a babysitter. like he was one to talk) you did not listen

the freedom was thrilling, in your defense

after being constantly followed and berated by mammon everyday, being able to go around campus without anyone telling you where to go made you a bit excited

that is, until you found yourself cornered by a random lower demon looking for a snack

but before you could even consider making a run for it, the demon stiffened, their previous predatory sneer freezing into a grimace

they fell to the floor immediately after

and there stood mammon, glaring down at them, his fist positioned upwards like he was ready to land another punch

his glare rose to you

"if you're gonna run around rad all willy-nilly without an escort, at least know when you're bein' followed. idiot."

you merely blinked at him, still reeling in surprise

mammon tore his gaze away. if it were anyone else, you'd almost say he looked flustered

"oh come on, don't go lookin' at me like that! what, did ya really think i'd let some lowlife snack on ya? lucifer'd murder me on the spot!"

you didn't even notice you dropped your bag until mammon picked it up off the floor, carrying it on one shoulder. he gave you a rougher-than-intended nudge on the shoulder

he still wouldn't meet your eyes

"come on, human, let's get ya to class"

—leviathan

it all began.. with the tsl trivia quiz. and then it went downhill from there

though leviathan honored his word and gave you a pact and you began respecting his otaku expertise, on a personal level? yeah no

maybe he was still butthurt about the quiz..? you didn't want to assume the worst about him. you barely knew the guy after all

but also he tried to kill you over his hyperfixation. maybe you had the right to assume whatever you want

and honestly, you were bound to get tired of it at some point

"you're just a random normie anyway lol"

"what, you think i'll just let some normie into my room?"

"ugh, i can't believe a normie beat me at a gamee."

forget tired, honestly, you were getting sick of it

you decided you've reached your limit on a random thursday morning

"hey, normie, pass the salt, would you?"

you ought to throw it at his head at this point

your teeth ground together in irritation

you didn't even notice that you'd crossed the room and moved around the entire dining table until you had the demon's collar by the fist

"i have had it with you!"

"wH- eh?" leviathan could only sputter as your grip tightened on his shirt. "what is your problem?"

"what's my problem? what's your problem?"

you didn't catch the hitch in his breath, the growing red of his cheeks, too blinded by annoyance to look anywhere but the narrowed pupils of his eyes

"would it kill you to have some manners, goddammit? i haven't done a single thing but breathe near you and all i hear is normie this, normie that, do you even know my fucking name?"

levi gulped nervously, but he surprised you nonetheless

"..m....mc.. your name is mc." he mumbled.

you were silent for a moment. but even after all the shit, you decided it would have to do for now. this wasn't worth being late to class over

"i'm not done with you.. demon."

you let go (he heaves a sigh of relief below you) and pick up your bag and leave. simple

all the while, levi watched you leave with his heart hammering in his chest

—mephistopheles

let's be honest, it's not very hard to make an enemy out of mephistopheles

even if you weren't an angel, as a human, you managed to get on his nerves just fine

you'd think with his status and titles and riches that fighting with him on a near daily basis would have some serious kind of ripple effect against you

but you quickly learn that no, he was just the most dramatic bitch in the universe

we been knew

but this only served to annoy you more, really. it was clear that he didn't even take you seriously enough to fight you properly

instead, he resorted to being petty and snarky and obnoxious about literally everything and you wanted to break his stupid nose with his stupid cane

depending on who you are, you would be delighted or very irritated to know that you get on his nerves just as badly!! :D

he knew the demon brothers were a bunch of oafs from the start, but honestly, the way they tumbled over each other to kneel at your feet was just a whole new level of pathetic

you were just some random human exchange student, after all. how great could you really be?

that was what he thought until one day, when his younger brother came barreling into the newspaper club room, completely unannounced, for his first surprise visit to his older brother's school

before mephistopheles could question him, he noticed you standing awkwardly in the doorway

"meph, did you meet mc?" his brother's bright grin seemed like a slice out of the sun as his eyes darted between you and your so-called enemy

obliviously, the kid continued rambling on. "your school is really really big, and i got lost after dad dropped me, but mc found me and brought me to you!"

huh

mephistopheles raised his eyes to meet yours. he couldn't quite read the expression on your face. but he didnt push you further

"is that so?"

(as he soon learned, you were actually pretty great)

—thirteen

in thirteen's defense, you were not the target of the trap

obviously

(so clearly, it was solomon's fault right?? riiiight???)

but you didn't seem to think that way. and to her discredit, you did still get caught in it

upside down and dizzy, the rubber rope latched around your ankles and wrists bouncing with the slightest breeze, you swore you would get her back for this

and you did:

after setting you free, the day after, she reset the trap. all you needed to do was push

in your defense, being stuck upside down for hours, even if on a mere accident, was not fun in the slightest

you were even late for class :(

unfortunately for both of you, the reaper seemed to take this as an act of war

and so ensued your rivalry

unfortunately for everyone else, you were both incredibly stubborn, headstrong, and dramatic

so more often than not, other people ended up falling victim to either of your pranks

belphegor gets caught in a tickle machine intended for you, mephistopheles suffers a bucket of ink falling from the door onto his head, not to mention the time lucifer got hit face first with glitter glue

legend says you were both almost suspended

but that wasn't even taking into account how much everyone hated being there for your verbal fights

satan has had to leave so many rooms just to keep from getting irritated at your antics

it isn't until asmodeus intervened one day that some of the poor witnesses figured out how to make a little entertainment off of this predicament

"good heavens, would you two just KISS already?!"

and, well, in asmodeus's defense, it had just been a joke on his part; a way to get you both to shut up

but much to both of your discredit, neither of you were all that good at hiding your blushing

—raphael

it started with solomon, being the good, amazing, wonderful peacekeeper with no ulterior motives that he is, he hatched a plan to get you and the angel to make up

a plan that was totally not for his own entertainment whatsoever, no

he even got luke to help him out :D

and that was the story of how you and raphael got locked in a room together <3

"luke, please let us out. right now."

a muscle ticked in raphael's jaw as solomon laughed from the other side of the door

"sorry!" luke exclaimed. "we can't open it just yet! not until you talk and make up!"

"solomon....." you warned

"tsk tsk tsk. come on, mc, we're only trying to help you. both of you"

"define 'help'." raphael muttered

you snorted at his quip

"well, for one, the fact that spears rain from the heavens whenever you fight"

"that is none of your business!"

you couldn't help but laugh at his words, even as he glanced your way with incredulity. if anything, the bewildered look only made you laugh again

"guys, you know i could just summon one of the brothers to let us out right? why bother with all this?"

"i know you can, of course," replied solomon. "but. you know. we'd much rather you didn't"

"we just want you two to stop fighting.." luke said

your shoulders slumped at his voice. luke, at least, was being serious

you glanced sideways at raphael. he met your gaze, and the look on his face told you he was thinking the same thing

the angel sighed. "..okay"

"okay what?" luke asked

"we will try to get along."

"really?!"

raphael chuckled. "yes, really" the soft smile on his face faded as he saw your expression

"what."

"nothing, nothing, i just don't think i've seen you smile so nicely before" :)

"which would make sense, given that you're annoying"

"you-"

"haha," solomon chuckled. "they're getting along already"

"it doesn't sound like it.."

"guess it's our time to leave, luke"

"wait, wh- HEY. solomon, put me down!"

you and raphael exchanged glances

"who shall i call?"

"lucifer"

you shared a short, conspiratorial grin

"just what i was thinking"

dividers from @clutteredfun

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solomams · 3 months ago

Text

12. Haunting

Prompt list by @obeymetournaments !!

Mammon and my mc Paula holding each other after waking up from nightmares. That day haunts each of them.

Drabble under the cut. Spoilers for OG OM lesson 16. Mentions of death.

Can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe.

"Mammon," She tries to call out, but nothing comes out. Her vision is blurry and dark.

She can make out a cow print pattern. Fangs. Hear laughter, gleeful and loud.

Her weak attempts to claw at her attacker's arm do nothing. Her movements are getting sluggish.

Not like this, not like this.

I don't want to die. I'm afraid.

Mammon.

That's her last conscious thought before her vision gives out. In the next moment, she feels herself being cradled against someone's chest.

She feels warmth against her face and neck. Moving is impossible. Every inch of her body hurts.

She can hear someone begging, pleading, bargaining. Who..?

"Paula, Paula, please. C'mon, hold on for me, ya? Do that for Mammon. I'll fix this, I promise-"

"Mmnf..?"

"Shh, shh, I'm here, I'm here, I got ya. J-Just hold on, okay?"

Blinking is practically impossible, yet she manages. She can make out white hair, tan skin, and her favorite shade of blue. Paula smiles. Tries, at least.

Mammon hiccups, unable to hold back the sob as he brushes her hair away from her face. It's matted and clumped now. His smile back is strained.

It's hard to keep her eyes open, let alone keep them focused. The room feels like it's spinning. Is it spinning? She can't tell anymore.

Her ribs protest with every breath she takes. There's a subtle wheezing sound. Is that her?

She wonders why Mammon looks so worried now. His mouth is moving but she can't hear a thing. She can't keep her eyes open anymore.

Sorry. She tries to say. She doesn't get to find out if she was successful, because in an instant, she's scrambling to sit up in her bed.

Bed. Room. Tree. Lanterns. Blanket.

Paula grasps at her own neck as she takes in lungfuls of air. She can feel herself trembling.

"Nightmare. Not real, not real," She wheezes to herself. Table. Vines. Window. Focus, focus, focus. Bedroom. Safe.

Safe?

She rolls onto the floor in a mess of pillows and blankets, and it takes everything in her to stand up and stagger towards the door.

Door. Metal. Cold. Focus. It wasn't real.

She doesn't know when she started crying, but she can feel the tears on her cheeks. Blurring her vision as she uses the wall as a guide.

Wood. Smooth. Left foot. Right foot. Keep going. How she survives the stairs, she won't question miracles.

Once at the top, a glance up has her almost tripping over her own feet. A figure at the opposite end of the hall, frozen in place.

"Paula?" A voice croaks. Timid and in disbelief.

Mammon? Mammon Mammon Mammon. Safety.

She takes a step or two towards him, but he covers the distance between them in no time. One second she's about to collapse, the next she's being squeezed to death. Figuratively this time. She stiffens up all the same.

"M-Mammon?" Paula says, seeking confirmation for what she already knows. Hearing it helps as much. Warm. Strong. Cologne. Safe.

Safe. She's safe. She's sure she is. Relax.

"Here, I'm here, treasure," Mammon says, pressing his ear against her chest. Thumpthumpthump. Too fast, but there.

It takes her a moment, but Paula wraps her own arms around Mammon, burying her fingers in his hair. Soft. Fluffy. Shampoo that smells suspiciously like hers. She's not shaking anymore.

"Can I? P-please," Mammon fiddles with the end of her shirt. He needs to feel. Needs to check. Needs to make sure.

Paula nods after a moment. It's not the first time he's asked. Not the first time they've found each other like this. Maybe the third.

It's only the nights Lucifer makes them sleep in separate rooms. Usually if there's a quiz soon. Yet, they always end up in each other's bed by the end. More so now than ever.

Raking her shirt up once he has confirmation, he feels. Feels the lack of wounds, lack of scars, the warmth beneath his fingers. Presses his thumb into her side, making her squirm. She grips his hair tighter.

It's like a ritual at this point.

Thump, thump, thump.

"Still here..."

"Yeah, I'm still here..."

He rubs circles against her skin. She loosens her grip on his hair. Her heartbeat continues on. It doesn't stop, not for a moment.

"Real?" She murmurs, pausing to wipe away the last of her tears. Even rubbing away Mammon's.

"Real," Mammon confirms. It's as much for her as it is for him.

They stay like that for a while. Holding each other. Reminders and reassurances.

"Bed?" Paula mumbles, bringing it up first for once.

"Yeah. Let's go," Mammon says, reluctantly untangling himself. It's only temporary. By morning, it'll be hard to tell who begins here and who ends there.

Mammon blinks when she grabs his hand. Like he's her lifeline. But by the look she gives him, he might be. He wonders how much she relived tonight.

He decides not to push it. Only squeeze her hand back, and leads her back to her room. This time, they'll be together.

No more memories turned nightmares to haunt them.

But hopefully, one day they won't need each other to get past it. Hopefully, one day, that awful day will be but distant memories.

#star is drawing #star is writing #obey me #obey me mammon #om mammon #obey me month #star's om tober #mc paula #obey me mc #obey me oc #im so eepy it's almost 3 am as i post this #this is one of the ideas I've had since the beginning #lmao sorry guys i tried my best #but yeah i think this is like a nightly occurrence for them #eventually it gets better

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inthelittlewood · 1 year ago

Note

Hey Martyn! So, I got into your lore because of Grian's Life Series, and now I'm just trying to find some stuff out. Anyways, I understand most of it, though I do have a couple questions.

What actually are LOOT shards/crystals? I know that they're soke aort of corruption in games of sorta, but how do they get there, how to they affect the game, and also how to disable them. It's just something I'm wondering about since I know you have to find the one piece, of treasure, but how does it actually help?

What are CHEST agents? I know that they're something almost as evil as Cruppy, which is really saying something, but what actually are they?

Are there any extra lore bits in Rats SMP that you can't get anywhere else? I just wanna know if I should grit my teeth and watch it sometime, when I'm done catching up on the VODs of Pirates (can't make it to streams for personal reasons, alas).

If you've come up with it, is there any way that the Watchers lore from the Life Series ties into the datastream hopper lore? Those two just seem a little incompatible to me - hopping the datastream, being captured by mysterious godlike entities... Or are they just two separate universes?

Do you plan on posting the New Life streams on your vods channel?

Who in Pirates is p!Martyn closest to in each faction, overall?

Also, I think you may have mentioned it on stream, but did you take the faction quiz and if so, which faction did you get? I kid you not, when I took it I got Kestrels all three times (with changing the answers to stuff that I would still do, but different than first time, I mean). Had to change it up just to see all the different faction descriptions...

Ok, I think that's it. Sorry if I have bad formatting btw, I'm typing this out on phone. Thank you for taking the time to read my questions! Absolutely love your work and lore, while at the same time having the humour some don't. Keep on doing an amazing job. Hope you find your one piece, of treasure.

Have an ice day!

That's something I want to unveil in the next lore drop, so I'm really sorry to say SoonTM but this lore doesn't have all that many secrets atm

2. C.H.E.S.T agents work are avatars controlled by human operators working for C.H.E.S.T and its evil underbelly. They're a known and trusted public computing corporation but the public doesn't know the full extent of their goals and resources

3. I try to be pretty concise and unavoidable when I do my lore stuff, so you should be able to find the Rats segments in this playlist with ease: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3MFbfp1zo8dooC57HqfbizRoc07PdlFQ

4. Maaaaaaybe, people have noticed some parallels / links and all shall be revealed one day for sure, even if I'm like gonna quit doing videos and streaming, I'd just lore dump whatever isn't revealed so it's out there ha

5. A lot of my New Life streams are me just doing the grindy parts of the SMP and with the server being somewhat inactive I want to save the crossover / collab content for the videos - I'm not sure people would flock to a 3 hour vod of me painfully and slowly building an outpost or hollowing out a mountain to make a factory ya know?

6. Kestrels - probably Sausage, with Oli as a close second. Herons - Owen or Water. Owen has an inquisitive gene like Martyn and Water likes all things musical. Nightingales - Ros is so different to Martyn that it makes for some wholesome and chaotic interations, you never know which you'll get. Kites - Bek is basically the only one he's interacted with, he had a little banter on the seas with Kuervo but it was brief

7. I did! I surprisingly got Kestrel, or I guess, not surprisingly huh?

#itlwlore #piratessmp #pirates smp #scurvyblr #inthelittlewood

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rite4fun · 2 years ago

Text

devils’ ride

based loosely on this song,, realistically i only had a small idea of what i wanted to write but then it came out to this, it’s been sitting in my notes for weeks and i only like some of it but now i don’t know if i want to delete it all or just post it for funsies so.. here ya go (if there are errors, don’t look)

18+ content

••

blue ridge, georgia. 1998.

“here you go baby” you hear your mother softly coo as you enter the kitchen. you watch her slide pieces of bacon from a pan onto a plate that lies in front of your father who just grunts in return as he continues to read the newspaper in his hands, “morning my other baby” she sends you sweet smile that you return as she steps around the table to set a kiss on your cheek.

“morning ma” you return her kiss before making your way to your father, “morning daddy” you set a swift kiss on his cheek before settling into a chair at the table. your mother is quick to set a plate of eggs, bacon and toast infront of you.

“morning darlin’, sleep well?” your father sets the newspaper down before using his other hand to pick up his coffee, you hold his gaze as he takes a sip and sets it back on the table.

“mhm..” you nod with a hum as you shovel food quickly into your mouth. your fathers gaze returns to the newspaper in his hand.

for a few minutes, the room is filled with the sound of sizzling bacon on a pan, silverware scraping against glass plates, and the occasional rustle of paper when your father finishes reading a page.

until your mother gasps quietly, “oh! honey you will never know what i heard from janet at the grocery store” she turns around, her own plate in her hands and sits in a chair close to your father, “she was telling me she saw will’s son.. you remember will?” your father hums in acknowledgment, “well she said she saw will’s eldest down around them shady bars in the city.. said he was hanging with some gang, looked like he was on a bender”

“what in the hell is janet herself doing over there?” your father questions, finally setting the newspaper down and giving your mother his full attention.

“she wasn’t.. just drove by and he was just there, standing on the side of the building with some real silmey looking guys”

your father shakes his head in disgust, “will’s youngest? where is he nowadays since his ol’ man been locked up again?”

your mother shrugs in response before turning to you, “you ever see him ‘round school?”

you set your fork down on your plate, lifting the napkin from your lap to wipe the corners of your mouth, swallowing the food you had just shoveled into your mouth. you shake your head before opening your mouth to let one word slip through, “nah”

your father quirks an eyebrow, eyes narrowed and head tilted. you’re quick to straighten your back and correct the improper grammar that fell easily from your lips, “no.. no i have not seen him, ma.”

your mother hums and shrugs before returning to her own plate, continuing to eat but your appetite is gone as you feel your fathers gaze still on you. you meet his eyes as he shifts in his chair, straightening his back and leaning his forearms on the table, an unmannered trait that he would yell at you for. he points a finger in your direction, “you stay away from them dixons, good for nothing but trouble, the lot of them”

“oh john, that boy is nothing but a kid” your mother defends the dixons youngest.

“don’t give two shits how old that little twat is, his fathers’ a drunken asshole and his brother runs the streets for a little cooze, can’t imagine the state of tha’ boy.. destined for nothing stable, i’ll tell ya tha’”

you stand up quick, grabbing your half finished plate, “going to head out”

“you’ve still got an hour and a half until school starts honey” your mother protests as she looks up at your figure that moves around the sink, rinsing your dish and setting it in the dishwasher.

“i’m meeting mandy and kate at the library to study for the bio quiz today” you step back to your mother, pressing a goodbye kiss to her cheek. you step towards your father to do the same, it’s as swift as the first one you gave him. your body turns to leave the room but your fathers hand grips your bicep tightly, forcing your attention back on him.

“you see tha’ boy anywhere and you turn the other way, you understand?” his voice is stern, a hint of distaste in his tone as he spits the word boy out.

there’s something on the tip of your tongue, something sharp.. but you swallow it, nodding your head softly with a smile, “yes daddy”

he grunts as he lets go of your arm and you take your exit quickly before either one of them can utter another word. swiping your backpack from the doorway and stepping out the door, you take a shuddering breath of fresh air before walking down the steps of your porch and into the sun.

••

click

you lightly shade in the outline of a dress that you drew on a sheet of paper, you slip the end of the pencil in between your teeth as your finger smudges the ink.

click

your body shifts, adjusting the pressure on your shoulders as you lay on your stomach, upper body perched up by your elbows, knees bent as your feet sway in the air behind you.

click

you grab the pencil once more to shade the piece darker, smudging it again after. once satisfied, you move to another area on the sheet of paper to repeat the process. the shifting of the bed you lay upon disturbs your handy work and your eyes are quick to gaze upon the intruder.

the boy across from you leans back against the pillows of the bed, you watch as he shakes the box of cigarettes against his palm before taking one out, tossing the box on the nightstand next to him. shaggy brown bangs fall into his face when he settles back into the pillows but he makes no move to sweep them out the way, instead flicking open his lighter with a soft click and lighting the dart that lies between his lips delicately.

your attention no longer lingers on the work infront of you so you close the notebook and set it to the side before leaning your chin onto your palm, “my father spoke about you this morning”

blue eyes meet yours as the boys pink lips purse around the end of the cigarette, inhaling the smoke then releasing it into the open air, “yeah? wha’ sweet words did daddy dearest utter on my behalf?”

you shrug, “same old stuff..” you lift your body up and crawl closer to the boys body. his gaze watching every move as you throw a leg over his lap, “said if i ever saw you.. to turn the other way” you smirk playfully at him as you settle more heavily upon him, his free hand finding it’s rightful place on your hip, fingertips slipping under the tank top you wear and brushing over the soft skin underneath.

the boy lets out a grunt as your hips shift above his, “should listen to ‘im..”

you roll your eyes, “daryl… the day i listen to every word my father says, i’ll be a nun and wearing a shirt up to my chin”

daryls’ eyes wander to your chest revealed by your tank that has fallen enough to reveal some cleavage to his eager gaze before shooting back up to your face, “yer hot ‘nough to pull it off”

you scoff, slapping at his chest as he laughs. a smile creeping upon your lips as his body shakes with the action, in turn moving yours as you rest on his lap. he lifts the cigarette back to his lips, inhaling then exhaling shortly after. your gaze follows every movement but linger on his lips, his tongue swiping quickly over them, making them shine against the light. he reaches his arm out to stub the dart into an ashtray on the nightstand before his attention falls back on you. the hand not resting upon your hip, grips the one you lay upon his chest. he brings it up to his face and remains eye contact with you as he presses a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.

your breath hitches, hips shifting above his at the light feather feeling but he doesn’t stop there.. his mouth opens wider, pink slick tongue darting out to graze the skin of your palm before his lips close again in a gentle kiss.

in no time, you sweep the upper half of your body down to press against his chest and crash your lips upon his. you feel him smirk into the kiss, his hands moving to slip down your body, fingertips grazing the dip of your waist to caressing your ass and sliding back down your thighs with a tight grip.

a gasp escapes your mouth at the sensation, allowing him to swipe his tongue against yours, deepening the kiss. the ever familar lingering taste of nicotine in his mouth is enough to have your legs squeezing his body between them. you tilt your head to the side more and slip a hand into his soft hair, pulling softly but enough for him to release a throaty moan at the feeling.

you’ve just began to roll your hips against his when the sudden sound of an alarm goes off, forcing your lips to separate with a slick sound, your own stomach clenching and his hips twitching in reaction to such noise.

you refuse to remove yourself from the warmth of his lap, instead reaching your upper body for your phone further down the bed and turning off the alarm. you drop the phone and return your attention to the boy below you, his eyes are half lidded, lips spit slick and swollen, cheeks a rosy red, he is a sight to behold and you imagine you aren’t much better by the way his hands clench where they lay against your thighs once he gets a good glance at your state.

you let out a disappointed sigh, “time for school..”

daryl releases a grunt as you lift yourself out from his hold and off the bed completely. grabbing the sweatshirt you laid on the desk chair in the room, you pull it over yourself. a small cracked mirror sits above the messy desk where you are able to catch a glimpse of your appearance. you were right… you weren’t much better yourself, lips swollen and eyes glazed over just from a little bit of kissing. you straighten up your hair, adjusting your clothes before turning back to the bed and gathering your belongings back into your backpack.

all the while, daryl remains still in the silence save for your shuffling. he’s got one arm now bent, hand resting behind his head, the other splaying across his stomach. his blue eyes narrowing, captivated by every movement you make.

you can’t help but smile at him, knowing just what effect you had on him, similar to the one he too, had on you. you watch the corner of his mouth, twitching as it threatens to release a smile but instead he bites his lip to prevent it from actually slipping.

“come on. we leave now, we’ll make it just in time for the first late bell” you lean a hand against the bed as you glance down to slide your boots on. standing upright again, you throw your backpack over one shoulder, finally looking to where daryl still lays, his gaze now lowered, “you can’t skip again, daryl… that’s three days in a row. we even have that bio quiz third period today! we studied together all week, you’ll ace it!”

the encouragement does nothing to make him move and your shoulders drop slightly. you know he can do it.. you spent hours together going over your own notes. you even sat in his lap quzzing him on the subject as he claimed he could focus better if you were closer. kissing him after every answer he got right which was all of them. his eyes would light up at your praise, stealing extra kisses when he could, just to hear that sweet giggle of yours when you’d playfully push him away, claiming “you know the rules dixon, you only get one for each question” but you’d lean down anyway to slot your lips together because denying him- meant denying yourself.

you glance at the time, biting your lip as you realize if you don’t leave soon, you’ll be late again and your father will surely follow through with the threat to take your phone away.

“fine” you round the bed to the side daryl lays on, leaning down and pressing a quick but bruising kiss to his lips, “i’ll let miss o’donnell know you are still sick but i swear on everything if you miss the retake day of this quiz, i’ll beat your fucking ass daryl”

you turn away, his voice raspy as he finally opens his mouth, “such filthy words comin’ from daddy’s sweet southern belle, must be rubbing off on ya’ a bit too much”

you can practically see the smirk on his face from just the tone of his voice even with your back to him as you continue to walk towards his bedroom door, so you throw him a middle finger over your shoulder and you know he sees it when you hear his sweet laugh, smile spreading helplessly across your own lips at the sound.

“won’t be much rubbing off on me anymore if you don’t get your ass to school sometime this week” you threaten, it’s an empty threat but you throw it out there anyway.

you reach the door of his room, pulling it open but before your body can push through the doorway, he calls out to you. his tone gone soft and you turn to give him your full attention, leaning your body against the frame. he has sat himself up more, back leaning against the wall behind his bed, eyes casted down at his lighter that his fingers fiddle with, a nervous habit of his that you find endearing.

“we still on for tonight?” it’s a simple question but his tone is soft, vulnerable even as if you’ll reply with anything but a yes.

you wait for him to look you in the eyes, before sharing a smile, one full of reassurance that there isn’t anywhere you’d rather be than being with him, “nine o’clock on the dot dixon and not a minute late”

“yes ma’am”

••

you lay as still as possible in your bed, listening to your mothers footsteps as she begins turning the lights in the house off.

there is some quiet mumbling as she says a quick goodnight to your father who has passed out in his infamous arm chair infront of the tv. a few bottles of beer after dinner always left him in a deep slumber, you and your mother have learned it’s best to just leave him be then attempt to lift his deadweight all the way upstairs to your parents room.

there is more shuffling before you can hear her steps on the stairs, she passes the door of your room, then finally the click of your parents door shutting. you take a quick glance on your phone, checking the time 8:50, it reads. perfect timing.

you wait the extra five minutes for your mother to settle into her own bed, tv playing some soap opera she only indulges in when your father spends the night downstairs.

8:55. you carefully climb out of bed with practised ease, your following steps coming just as quietly when you gather your bag and step out onto the landing of your stairs. you chance one more look at your parents bedroom door, the obvious voices of your mothers favorite show loud enough to drown any small noise the old house may make.

years of living in this house has left you knowing every inch- stepping more to the left on the eighth step and skipping the fourth step completely. you release a soft but quiet breath when your feet finally hit the bottom floor.

you peek into the living room, a soft glow of light from the tv illumating the sleeping face of your father. his snores bounce off the walls on account of the many beers he had and the deep sleep he is encountering.

lingering no further, you step into the kitchen and taking a pit stop at the fridge to pull out the container you secretly packed. you had sent your mother and father to the living room after dinner, offering to do clean up. you’d pack the tubberware with leftovers before shoving it in the back of the fridge, hidden by the many bottles of beer and random condiments.

you reach your arm in to pull it out, the edge of the container skimming a beer bottle that teeters the edge of the shelf, your other hand is quick to grab it before it falls but not without jostling the other bottles beside it. you freeze with a pounding heart at the tinkering of the glass bouncing off one another.

you curse quietly under your breath because of course, the one night you decide to do something out of the ordinary, it goes wrong. you hear nothing else but your fathers snores and quickly decide that now, is probably not the right time to be second guessing decisions. you quietly shut the fridge before heading to the back door, opening it and slipping through.

you rush through your backyard, slipping into the dark with measured steps before you see the familiar old black cadalliac pulled up on the side of the street, door already open for you to slip in.

“yer late” 9:01, the clock reads.

you pull the car door shut as the car shifts to drive, “‘caused a big ruckus getting this” you lifted the container of food in question, “had to make sure there was no witnesses”

“wha’ is it?”

“dinner..” you look over at the boy next to you, the street lights casting a soft glow on his face, “janet saw merle in the city a few days ago and he wasn’t at the house this morning. assumed he has been m.i.a for a bit and figured it’s been even longer since you have had a home cooked meal.”

you watch daryl fight a smile, the car slows to a stop at a red light before he is turning towards you. his hand reaches out to grip your chin, pulling you to meet him halfway and crashing his lips to yours, mumbling a small “yer too damn sweet, belle”

you smile and hum against his lips, “it’s nothing…” your cheeks flare at the sentiment anyway before your pulling away and daryl is facing forward again just as the light changes to green.

the roads remain empty as the car navigates through the back roads of your small town. you share the gossip of the day at school to keep him in the loop, he really doesn’t give a shit about anyone that isn’t you but he listens anyway because he loves hearing you talk. finally, you hit the highway and you can feel your body beginning to tingle as daryls foot presses harder on the gas to match the high speeds of the road. he rolls the windows down and turns the music up.

it’s not his first rodeo, he knows you love this. the wind whipping through your hair and the music flooding your ears at a deafening height. you explained to him once that this..

just you, him, the open highway and the dirty lyrics of a rock song blaring from the radio..

this is where you belong. this is where you feel most you. free.

daryl wishes he could just stare at you as he drives but he takes the little glimpses he can get when he chances a small glance in the direction at where you sit next to him. a ghost of a smile rests on your face as you sing along to the music. your hair tangling from the wind, small pieces occasionally sticking to your lips but you pay them no mind. you hold an arm out the window, the cool air nipping at it.

you catch one of his glimpses and he is quick to face back towards the road, allowing you to take your turn in drinking him in under the moonlight.

his side profile is picture perfect. from his wind blown bangs that sweep across his forehead down to the sharp slope of his nose and his red bitten lips (thanks to his anxious lip biting habit), all the way to his even sharper jawline. god, you just want to fucking ruin him for sitting there so effortlessly, unaware that his presence alone makes you crazy.

he can feel you staring, how could he not? the lighting is dark enough to hide the color he is sure paints his cheeks but he still feels the heat of them. he tilts his head further towards the window, allowing the cold air to cool them down.

you watch his body shift, continuing to trail your eyes down. he wears a dark grey tee, the short sleeves leaving his arms naked, goosebumps spread as the night breeze flows in. his muscles flexing as he re-adjusts his hand on the steering wheel. your eyes narrow as they fall to the light wash jeans that cover his bottom half and it is then, you realize that staring is no longer enough but rather you need to feel him.

you’d endured a day in hell beginning with mandy and kate grilling you on your whereabouts this morning when you missed the study group, then miss o’donnell chose today of all days to be in a pissy mood, to finally going home, your father having a shitty day at work and taking it out on anyone who dare cross his path. the only thing that would have soothed the ever building stress under your skin was the occasional glimpses of daryl you’d catch throughout the day. the simple twitch of his lips when he catches your eyes lingering too long on him or the bravery to meet your eyes and sending you a sly wink when you pass in the halls. alas, he wasn’t there today. the beginning of the shitty day really began then.

you scoot your body to the middle seat, daryls’ eyes glancing at you in question but he says nothing as he refocuses back on the road ahead when you do nothing but stare ahead with a hidden smile.

you wait long enough that daryl no longer suspects anything, twisting half your body towards him, placing a hand on his stomach and pressing a kiss to the bicep of his outstretched arm that holds the steering wheel. your eyelashes flutter before your gazing up at him through them while your hand travels further south, settling on the zipper of his jeans.

the music still plays at the level you had originally turned it up too, talking was out of the question but you guys never needed words to communicate.

he presses his back further into the seat, hips lifting against your hand and sharing a quick glance with you before his attention is back on the road. it’s more than enough of an answer for you so you waste no time in unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down. your hand grips him through his briefs, his cock already hard and throbbing against your palm. you press your thighs together and you can’t help but bite softly at his bicep to contain a moan at the feeling of him twitching in your hand.

daryl can’t seem to keep his body still at your touch so he shifts again, both hands reaching out to grip the steering wheel now.

you press closer to his body as you pull him out of his briefs finally. his mouth drops as your thumb swipes the precum that spills from his tip before dragging it down the side. god, you wish you could hear him.

you lift your face from the side of his arm before latching onto his neck, trailing sloppy kisses anywhere you could reach. every twitch of his cock receives a squeeze as your hand drags up and down, thumbing his tip for more precum to spread to make the glide easier. the slight roughness of it all only turns daryl on more.

your kisses reach his ear and you take full advantage of his lack of control in this situation, “god, you feel so good in my hand” following your words with a quiet gasp before your back to trailing kisses down his neck.

his response is a slight jerk of the car as his foot falls heavy on the pedal along with a rough twitch of his cock in your hand that releases a larger amount of precum. you smirk against his neck, pressing one final kiss to the soft skin before leaning back.

your hand is able to move faster along his cock now, twisting your wrist everytime you your hand glides up towards his sensitive tip, something you know daryl enjoys. you glance at his face as you do the motion again, his head presses into the seat, eyelashes fluttering, threatening to shut but they stay half lidded to keep an eye on the road ahead as he chews on his bottom lip roughly.

you lean towards his ear again, “i want you in my mouth..” the car revvs as his foot drops again, “need you to focus real hard, yeah? can you do that for me?”

you lean back with a smile as he nods vigorously in response. you twist your wrist once more, a reward for being so gracious and allowing you do whatever you want to him. your next moves are quick, slipping under his arms and guiding him to your mouth. the second he feels your lips press against his tip, his foot drops again.

daryl takes a deep breath, trying to focus even more on not driving the car into a fucking ditch but it’s tough as your sweet, warm mouth envelopes his cock, sliding slowly down his shaft, your tongue flicking over a sensitive vein.

daryls releasing one hand from the steering wheel to turn the music down and you try to protest with him still in your mouth, the vibrations making his head spin, “fuck.. yer so good”

his chest heaves heavily, his free hand going to rest on the back of your head, fist only curling into your hair but not pressing. you’re so fucking perfect to him. from the kindness of your heart to even think of bringing him dinner to the sweet warmth of your mouth moving up and down his cock. he might just fucking love you. it should be a terrifying thought but it’s not the first time it came across his mind, maybe because he has always cared for you since you bounded into his life. you’re on his mind the minute he becomes conscious to the world to being his last thought as he lays in bed at night.

you are his. despite not a single soul on earth knowing what goes on between you two behind closed doors, you are it for him and he can’t imagine a life where you aren’t here with him.

“baby..” he growls the endearing term as he grips your hair tighter, “’m gonna cum… fuck” his train of thoughts are everywhere between keeping the car steady, his overwhelming desire to confess his love for you, and the need to finally cum.

now doesn’t seem like the right time to confess something that he feels so deeply as you give him head in his dads cadalliac. nevermind the fact that he actually wants to spend the rest of his life with you and he can’t do that if he crashes the fucking car, whether he dies from the accident or his father finds out and sends out a hit man for ruining his precious car. with a quick decision in mind, he slides the vehicle to the side of the road and shoves the gear stick into park.

you hum in confusion and stop the bopping of your head on his cock, lifting until just the tip lies in your mouth. you expect his hand to release your hair so you can sit up but instead, he presses you further down his cock slowly, testing the waters.. “‘s okay, just don’ want to crash the car all because yer pretty mouth wanted to suck m’ cock” he grunts as you’re quick to open your mouth wider, suctioning and swiping your tongue in agreement as he guides you with the hand on the back of your head.

“can ya’ swallow fo’ me, pretty girl?” his voice is rough, that raspy tone that lets you know just how gone he is. as if you didn’t know from the tensing of his thighs below your hands and the constant twitching of his cock in your mouth.

you reach a hand to grip the base of his cock as your mouth focuses on the tip. the swirling and flicking of your tongue matching the twists and squeezes of your hand. every sensation is different, it’s almost too much yet not enough.

daryl doesn’t even have time to question which feels better before the grip in your hair tightens and his body tenses. his head falling forward as he whines out quiet curses, “fuck, fuck, fuck”

the first bout of cum are violent spurts that make you jerk your head back a bit in shock but you’re prepared for the next, squeezing the base of his cock to milk him of every last drop and more.

his grip on your hair releases, softening instead to massage your scalp incase he pulled too hard as he was lost in bliss. you plan to clean up every last drop on his cock but the sensitivity gives way quickly as you suckle at his head, flicking your tongue over his slit and daryl releases a grunt, “tha’s enough”

you allow him to slip from your mouth but not before you can press a final kiss to his tip before fully leaning your body back and aren’t you a sight to see with your glossy eyes, swollen and slick lips, even your cheeks are flushed. you look utterly wrecked and daryl can feel himself twitch weakly when your lips stretch into a satisfied smile.

“yer fuckin’ insane, belle” he shakes his head as he carefully puts himself back into his briefs and doing his pants up again.

and just when he thinks your smile can’t get any brighter, it somehow does and you beam with that familar glint in your eye, the knowledge of what it could mean warming his heart. he can’t help reaching out to grip the side of your neck, pulling you to him and crashing his lips against yours.

your taste is mix of something you guys created together and daryl can see himself becoming addicted to it, if he isn’t already as he already regrets pulling away from your sweet mouth, “come on, buckle up. we’re almost there” he nudges his head towards the empty road and you nod before sticking close to him, laying your head against his body as he puts the car in drive again and takes off.

••

“he wants to send me to a stupid all girls boarding school, said i’ll be able to focus more on my studies there but i know he just wants to lock me away and not have to worry that i’m off somewhere doing something i shouldn’t” daryl sends a look from his seat across from you, “don’t say anything” you warn as your foot nudges his legs as you catch the meaning behind the sly look.

smoke releases from your mouth when you pull the cigarette away, tapping it against the built in ashtray of the car. normally you’d never pick up the small dart that lays between your fingers but sometimes a shitty day warrants for the burn of one.

the car sits stationed behind the familiar abandoned train station that’s roughly thirty minutes out from your house. you sit sideways in the backseat of the black cadalliac with your legs thrown over daryls own. the windows are cracked, letting the cool breeze in as music plays softly from the radio.

“wasn’t gonn’, belle” daryl replies, his feet kicks the empty container you brought him. the delicious spaghetti and meatballs your mother made was filling, sometimes he likes to visualize himself thanking her personally but then he remembers who he is and the vision dissipates into dust, leaving an ugly hollow feeling in his chest.

“saw it on your face” you huff, leaning forward slightly to hand him the cigarette and releasing the smoke you’ve just inhaled.

when you first met, he was never a big fan of words so over the years, you had gotten better at reading every look, touch, movement.. anything that he does to determine what they all mean.. he’d argued he is just as good at reading you.

daryl places the dart between his lips, taking a few hits before stubbing it out completely. he can tell you have more to say, your day seemed to irritate you more than usual and he can’t help but think that he should have just sucked it up this morning and gone to the shitty highschool.. even if he would have been miserable, he’d be able to keep an eye out for you.

admittedly all he’d do is cover up your attempts to look or brush against him in the halls. you were never particularly good at being sly but whatever you did was enough that nobody suspected anything. plus it amused him more than anything.

“what did you end up doing on your off day?”

daryl shrugs, “went into the city”

“to see merle?” he nods in response, “he coming home?”

“nah, said he had a couple more things to do out there” his voice is indifferent but your saddened at the thought of him being home alone all the time.

“maybe..” you shift your position and daryl grips one of your legs as you settle back again, “maybe i can come over this weekend.. and stay?” your voice ends softer than it began, a hint of fear at the possibility of rejection.

daryl is taken back at the tone, when has he ever denied you for you to feel scared to ask him anything, let alone offering to keep him company?

he’s moving before he responds, pulling his body over yours as he settles between your legs. one hand rests on your hip and pulls you further down the seat until he is face to face with you, “yeah?”

one of your hands reach up to brush a strand of hair behind his ear, your eyes meet his as you shrug, “if you’ll have me..”

you are unbelievable, daryl thinks. he mumbles mockingly your words as an arm wraps around your lower back to pull you closer to his own body. a small grin spreading on his face as you let out a giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck, your noses bumping together.

‘course he’d have you. today. tonight. tomorrow. forever, if you’ll have him.

“what will ya tell yer dad?” his eyes flick from your eyes, to your lips and back.

you hum, licking your lips before responding, “i’ll figure it out”

daryl knows you will, you always do.

your faces are close, his swaying down to close the gap even more causing your lips to brush. when you lift your head up, his is pulling back; teasing you. you make for the motion again and your lips just barely press together before he is pulling back again and this time, you can’t help but whine and settle your head back against the seat.

you look at him underneath your eyelashes, your bottom lip jutted just a tiny bit more than the top one, not yet a pout but just as sweet looking.

“so pretty when yer desperate” his praise sends shivers down your spine and your eyes are fluttering shut, chest arching to brush against his.

“please..” you whisper when your eyes open, head tilted just a bit as you look up at him.

daryl is only so strong against you, he likes to tease but to ever fully deny you? he could never, especially when you beg and look at him like that, so sweet and ready for the taking.

his lips slot with yours as the kiss begins tender and slow but hot. so so hot. the heat of it making you let out a soft moan and daryl takes full advantage when your mouth drops open. swiping his tongue along yours, the tender moment gone as the kiss becomes sloppier.

he releases his hold around your back and allows his hands to roam your body as his lips stay attached to yours. they slip under the tshirt you wear, fingertips dancing over your sides making you squirm at the ticklish feeling. as his hands slip further up, your shirt does too until you lift up enough for him to slide it completely off, leaving it to fall on the floor of the car.

as you settle back, he admires the lacy white bralette that barely conceals the flesh underneath but it’s pretty, like you, he thinks.

he returns his lips to yours, a hand grazing over the thin fabric, thumb brushing over your nipple that’s already hardened underneath the lace. you push your chest further into his hand, a soft whimper releasing from your throat.

“’ve got ya’” daryls lips brush yours as he reassures you. you took care of him earlier and now, it’s his turn and he fully intends on following through with extra care as always. he trails his lips down your jaw, to your neck and finally your chest.

his teeth graze your collarbones before latching onto your skin, sucking and licking all across the expanse of your chest. some sure to bruise but you don’t care as your hands find purchase in his hair, pressing him into you more.

once satisfied, he trails kisses to the valley of your breasts, sucking another bruise to the area as his hands thumb at your nipples.

“ah..” you thrown your head back with a gasp when he finally places his mouth over your nipple through the fabric of your bralette, his tongue flicking over it, saliva soaking the lace which has you moaning out softly at the sensation.

“hmm.. tha’ feel good?” daryl mumbles around your nipple as he looks up at you from beneath his hair, always a sensitive little thing, he thinks. you bite your bottom lip from crying out more, opting to just nodding your head in response. he hums happily, “jus’ wanna make m’ girl feel good”

“you always d-do.. ah” a moan falls from your mouth as you look down to watch him and his smooth pink lips, he switches to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. your hands grip his hair tighter as his tongue swirls around your taut nipple, the sight making your hips buck against his, desperate for something to ease the throbbing between your legs.

you want to succumb to the pleasure, allow yourself to just let go and feel everything but there’s a thud that sounds like it came from outside the car. your chest pushes against daryls mouth and you fight hard to get your next words out, “w-what was tha’?”

daryl refuses to part from your breast but he does slow his movements, continuing to flick his tongue around your nipple through the spit soaked lace.

“prolly’ jus’ the wind” he finally concludes when he hears nothing but the whistle of the cool air flowing through the crack of the windows. he’s back to skimming his teeth over your sensitive breast, not wanting you to forget any pleasure that was building up from his ministrations. he shifts his body so his thigh presses to your core, allowing you to grind against it to ease the pressure that’s become so overwhelming you felt tears in your eyes at the slightest friction you gain even if there still lies so much fabric between your bodies. you can work with it until he gives you more.

as your hips ground down, daryl pushes his thigh against you and in no time, you’re both finding a rhythm that could finally release the ever building pleasure you’ve had since you gave him head earlier. your mouth opens to let out another moan, head rolling to the side and eyes falling to the back of your head at a particularly hard thrust of his thigh at the same time your own hips bare down. when your eyes flutter open, they’re half lidded in bliss and just as you feel them roll shut again, you swear you’d seen a shadow out the window over daryls shoulder.

you open your mouth to say something but all that comes out is a gasp of daryls name, your mind so utterly blank and helpless to the one person giving you so many good sensations. at the sound of your voice whimpering his name, he doubles down on his actions, wanting to see you succumb to the pleasure.

your eyes can’t help but glance to the window again expecting to see nothing but the night sky- instead you see a face. though the moonlight gives little shine to the surrounding forest of the abandoned train station, it’s enough for you to recognize the features glaring through the window and your heart stops before pounding so hard, you feel like blood might just leak from your ears to relieve the pressure.

daryl leans back when he feels your body tense and still, quick to detect the uneasiness and for a moment he thinks he has done something wrong but when he sees your face, your eyes aren’t on him but behind him, “wha’s wrong?”

you can’t reply though, well you can- could, but you don’t get the chance too before the door of the car is thrown open and daryls body is pulled roughly from yours and out the car.

“daddy!” you scramble for your top, slipping through the door as you pull it down to cover yourself. the moonlight illuminates daryls body that your father has thrown to the dirt road. “daddy, stop!” your father kneels on one knee, one hand gripping the boys tee to lift him to his face, the other pulled back in a fist.

“the hell you think your doin’ with your dirty hands on my little girl, huh?!” your father shakes him, growling the words with utter digust.

you feel a bit helpless to the scene, your eyes glancing to where your mother stands by the yellow volkswagen you nor daryl heard pull up behind you guys. she holds a hand over her heart, her wide eyes shining with tears and you want to say something to her. apologize even, not for being here with daryl, you’d never apologize for that but for making her worry. for having her out here, witnessing this.

“ya’ gonna answer me you prick or am i gon’ have to beat it out of ya?”

“just leave him alone daddy, he didn’t do anything!” you and daryl make eye contact, your eyes beginning to shine with your own tears while his remain clear and relaxed, an attempt to assure you he is okay. it does nothing to ease the pounding of your heart, reaching the point that you genuinely believe you might have a heart attack.

“you shut your month, i’ll deal with you later” your father doesn’t turn around, refusing to look at you.

“don’ talk to her like that” daryls eyes narrow at the man infront of him. your father stares him down expecting him to crumble in defeat to his heated glare but he doesn’t budge, leaving your father to laugh in faux disbelief.

“got some balls on ya’ kid” he pulls daryls face closer, voice low and reeking of alcohol, “you’d watch that mouth of yours.. don’t tell me how to handle what’s mine”

“yeah? gon’ lay your hands on ‘er like ya do her mother?”

and that’s it.. the final straw that has your father growling and pulling his fist back before colliding with daryls face.

“daryl! no!” you gasp and move to grab your fathers arm, attempting to pull him away but he shakes you off roughly, enough to have you stumbling back and falling to the dirt road.

your mother is quick to come to your aid but you brush her off as you get up, heading for the two bodies infront of you again. daryl holds a hand over his cheek as he looks up at your face which crumbles at the sight of blood that drips down from the split wound. you stumble closer wanting to help him but he holds his hand up to stop you before his attention falls back to the man infront of him.

“is that what she’s telling everyone?” your father mocks as he continues to lean over the boys body.

“’s what i know” daryl can sniff out a prick of a dad when he sees one, curtesy to having one himself. you rarely talked about your home life but bits and pieces would slip during your late night conversations. it wasn’t exactly rocket science to put together.

your father lets out another menacing laugh, “it’s what you know..” he drops his head, shoulders shaking with even more quiet mocking laughter before lifting to face daryl again, “if you know anything like she’s knows, it’d seem you both must be dumb as shit. while that fact can be hurtful, there could have been hope to fix it but her being out with you? dumb and slutty? tha’ just about makes her a downright disappointment”

you and your mother release matching gasps. you shake the initial shock off, it should bother you more to hear your father call you such shitty, degrading names but you can’t find yourself to care too much when all you want to do is diffuse the situation. in this moment, all you wanted was to get daryl as far away from your father as you possibly could.

shifting your eyes back to daryl, his chest heaves and for a second, it looks like steam may just be coming from his ears as his eyes stay locked on the older man’s figure.

call him all the names in the world, he could give two shits but calling you anything than what you are-

daryl is pulling himself from your fathers grasp, putting a good distance between them as he steadies on his feet. you watch him take a deep breath, his eyebrows drawing over his eyes as he narrows them.

you know he is gearing up for a fight, you’ve seen it plenty before at school whenever someone pushed his buttons or mouthed off some shitty comment about his family to him.

he stands there, glowering at the other person, still as ever except for the slow rise and fall of his chest. something about it left the other person bothered enough to swing first, allowing for him to finish it without strict punishment as he uses self defense as his reasoning.

“daryl.. don’t” he doesn’t even glance your way, eyes focused on the poor excuse of a man infront of him, mind filled with all the ways he’d put him down.

“now now,” your father pushes himself up, standing to full height, towering over daryls lean teenage figure, “let’s see what he’s got”

“so what? you’re just going to rough him up a bit?” your tone exasperated, “this has nothing to do with him and everything to do with me and you!” your fathers anger is misdirected. the false narrative he came up with vanished the second he saw you and daryl in that black cadalliac but the reality of the situation had him creating new ones instead of facing the facts.

you chose to be here with daryl and his mind couldn’t wrap around that.

the gravel of the dirt road crunches beneath your feet as you take slow steps towards your father. still refusing to look at you, you watch his back tense. shoulders rolling back in an attempt to make himself seem bigger although he has no need too as he continues to tower over the boy infront of him.

“has everything to do with this twat, can’t keep his hands to himself”

“he didn’t do anything i didn’t want him to do” it’s not the right words to say right now but you didn’t even know what you could to stop this.

your fathers’ head drops, a hand coming up to pinch the skin between his nose before shaking his head in disbelief? disgust? “don’t say that shit”

you’re close enough behind him that you can hear him mumbling but it’s hard to keep up with everything that tumbles out except for one thing you don’t even know what you want.

you shake your head at his words although he can’t see you, let alone know if you actually heard. he’s wrong though, you do know what you want. the minute you met daryl, you wanted him to stay but he never did. running off any chance he could to prevent you from getting too close but you waited. patient and sweet as always until one day he did stay, since then he refused to leave your side unless you’d ask him too - which is something you’d never do - and although it’d hurt his heart, he would because he just wants you happy.

more often than not these late night drives were filled with deep conversations, if the urge to feel one another didn’t overtake your mind first. you were teenagers with raging hormones, what did anyone else expect?

you remember one night that daryl actually let his feelings slip; the topic of the future was in the air, you spoke of what you wanted to see yourself doing, a smile on your face. he’s confessed before that he didn’t think about it much, truth be told he’d probably say either dead or in prison but since you came bounding into his life, that reality become less true.

“where do you think you’ll be?” he looks down at his lap where you lay your head across it, you eye him expectantly, always so eager to hear him speak as he did it so rarely.

he faces forward again before shrugging, “i don’ know.. prolly jus’ go wherever you are” he thinks nothing of it as he says it, the truth slipping through his lips easily. he doesn’t know what he plans to do or where but if he had a choice, it’d be with you.

you lift from his lap so suddenly that he is taken back as you turn to face him. his poker face has always been spot on but a lingering of worry reflects in his eyes, thinking just maybe he said the wrong thing. maybe you didn’t see him in your future the way he couldn’t see you without.

you see the moment regret flushes through him as he begins to pull away but you don’t let him get far, grabbing his face with your hands and forcing him to look you in the eyes, “…yeah?”

your gaze is overwhelming so all he can do is press his forehead to yours and nod. never to push or pull when he shows you such vulnerability, you smile and smash your lips to his before leaning back, “‘mkay.. don’t care where we end up, so long as i’m with you too”

it’s the closest thing to a love confession as daryl could give at that time and although it was said in so little context, you understood what he meant, what he felt, what he feels because you felt the same way and still do.

you’re close enough to reach out for your fathers elbow, “daddy.. i love him” your fingers just barely graze his arm before it’s swinging back aggressively, creating contact with your face whipping it to the side. the resounding smack of impact fills the empty train station.

dead silence settles into the air as you reach a hand up to cup the cheek that now throbs in pain and face your father who looks back in shock. your mother is silently crying as she stands powerless to the scene before her. and daryl…

daryl sees red.

your father reaches out to you but the contact is never made when a smaller body is pushing his away. as he staggers, daryl takes full advantage and swings a fist to his face, “ya best keep yer fucking hands off ‘er!”

your father gains his balance back quickly before he’s fighting back, throwing a punch aimed at daryls jaw then another at his eye. he leaves no room for the boy to gain any sense of control, plummeting him into the dirt road all over again.

daryls body falls to the side and you’re screaming for your father to stop, even your mother is crying out his name but both of your pleas fall on deaf ears.

“you think this little twat gives a fuck about you?!” your father asks, kicking his foot into daryls stomach making him release a grunt, “boys like him are only after one thing with girls like you, unfortunately you were dumb enough to fall for his tricks!”

you shake your head, “just stop it! you’re gonna kill him!” tears stream down your face as your father continues to kick and stomp anywhere he sees fit. daryls’ grunts and groans echo throughout the open air along with the nasty muttered words your father continues to spit at him and you.

you and your mother work together to tug at any part of your fathers body your hands can grip. grasping him tightly and pulling him roughly back, his body comes easily before he’s pushing forward again to stomp one last kick to daryls body, just to show you that he’s still in control, allowing you to move him away. he’d keep going if he could but he can’t go to prison and keep you away from that boy at the same time.

your mother continues to pull him away before she’s stumbling back, hands shaking in fear and covering her face in disbelief of everything that’s just happened.

you’ve dropped to your knees, rocks digging into them as you shuffle the short distance to daryls body. your hands hover shakingly, trying to find an exact spot you could hold that might ease the pain.

“o-oh my god daryl.. i’m sorry.. i’m so sorry..” your voice nothing but a whisper as sobs overtake your already trembling body. tears blur your vision but you make no move to wipe them, choosing instead to blink rapidly so you are able to keep an eye on the boy infront of you.

“not yer fault…” he barely gets out as he clutches his stomach, body curling in pain as he takes a shuddering deep breath. you shake your head in response, denying the sentiment before looking down at your lap as you cry because it is. his hand shakingly enters your vision as he reaches out to you, your own immediately latching onto it. he squeezes your fingers to gain your attention and when you finally meet his eyes, he gives you a stern look, “‘s not.”

you lean down to kiss the hand that lays in your grip, mumbling apologies into his skin.

“don’t you touch tha’ boy!”

“can’t you just shut up!” you whip your head around to your father who leans against the volkswagen, “please..” your voice softer as you turn back to daryl. the hand not gripped into his, goes to brush hair out of his face, revealing the damage your fathers fist had done. you feel sick to your stomach.

“it’s time to go, leave him” you shake your head at your fathers voice, “if you don’t get your ass into this car right now, i swear on everything i’ll send you to that boarding school an’ make sure they lock the keys up so you’ll never even get the chance to think about making this dumb mistake again!”

“i’m not leaving him!” you can hear your mother encouraging your father to just get in the car but he shuts her down with a sharp lip.

“you stay here with him, you better stay because if i see you enter a foot into my house..” the threat is left in the air. you make no motion to move as you cling to daryls hand, eyes closing as you release a shuddering breath.

it’s only a few moments later that you hear your father mutter a few curse words before the car door slams shut. the engine rumbling to life, shortly followed by the sound of gravel crunching under the tires as they sped away, leaving natures nightlife to fill the empty space.

daryls hand squeezes yours and your eyes open to meet his, the moon light illuminating the blue of them. you study the many spots of his face that are beginning to bloom a dark color, a small cut goes through his brow, another across his cheekbone and bottom lip. your stomach turns at the sight.

he attempts to sit up, even letting go of your hand to clutch his stomach as he uses the other to lean up on.

“careful..” still having no idea where to lay your hands, you hover them about as he unsteadily sits up. when successful, his gaze falls on you again, truly taking in your state.

he wonders if you even notice how bad your body shakes as the never ending tears slip down your face.

he lifts a hand to cup your wet cheek, thumbing gently over the cut that lies across the top of your cheekbone. his eyes flick to yours in question and you nearly shake your head in disbelief because of course he’d worry more about you even after your father just beat him into the ground.

he grips your chin firmly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. the question still reflecting in them, your hand comes up to lay over his, “‘m okay..”

you are, physically. the cut stings and your cheek throbs but nothing can compare to the stabbing ache in your chest.

he doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer but doesn’t bother pushing, he can tell you have no energy to fight him on it. instead he leans his forehead heavily against your own.

both of you sit there, basking in the sounds of nature around you and the empty railroad. your occasional sniffles and daryls soft hushes accompany the worlds natural sounds. you imagine you guys look pretty ridiculous but you can’t find it in you to care.

••

“ow!”

“stop it” you roll your eyes, the cotton ball you hold between your fingers hadn’t even touched his eyebrow yet when he jerks his head away playfully.

he sits on the closed toilet seat as you stand between his legs. his hands gently rest on the back of your thighs as you tend to his physical wounds the best you could after you made sure he popped a couple painkillers for his aching body.

“if ya keep frowning like tha’, yer pretty face is gonn’ get stuck” daryls been trying to make you laugh since you’ve left the abandoned train station and drove to his home. you barely spoke in the car, mind constantly wandering elsewhere and eventually he gave up trying to keep any conversation going.

you focus on cleaning up what areas of damage you could on his skin as you mentally feared what lay underneath his tshirt, it looked like your father did not hold back when he laid those kicks against him. you shiver as you remember the scene again, daryls grunts of pains still echoing in your ears.

his hands rise to hold your hips instead, shaking your figure lightly until he gains your attention, “hey… we’re okay”

“why do you do that?” you sigh in frustration, hands dropping to your sides.

“do what?”

“disregard your pain like that.. daryl, we should go to the hospital to get you checked out” he shakes his head, it’s not the first time you suggested to go. it was actually the first place you thought of when you got behind the wheel of the black cadalliac but he talked you out of it. you’re regretting it now, he could have serious internal injuries.

“‘m okay” you’re not convinced, “promise belle.”

you wanna press more, somehow convince him to go but instead you go back to wiping his face and disinfecting his open cuts. with the dirt cleaned up and better lighting, you’re able to see his injuries more clearly. the cuts aren’t deep, rather it seems that the bruising will get the better of his handsome face but nothing as threatening as what he keeps hidden, you imagine.

sighing again, you throw the cotton ball into the trash, “can i check on your stomach now?”

daryl shakes his head, “‘m good, told ya’.. have had worse, let me check on ya” he stands up, hands still holding your hips as he switches positions. his face screws up in a slight wince as he does but drops it once you have settled onto the closed toilet lid.

the cut on your cheek is small, similar to the one he has. in different circumstances, you’d probably make a joke about the matching wounds but your mind is struggling to keep up with anything solid so it passes as every other thought you have. silence fills the air between you two, you lost in your own thoughts and daryl wondering where your mind is.

“he’s never hit me before..” your voice is a soft but the emotion it holds is enough to have daryls hand stilling before he goes back to dabbing an alcohol soaked cotton ball at your injury. it’s really nothing.. something small that will be swollen for a couple days then be gone, leaving a faded scar behind but that too will disappear with time. “maybe.. i-i don’t think he meant too..”

you’re a bit stunned still. the first time you saw him raise his hands at your mother, you were five. you remember trying to push him away, squirming in his hands as they gripped your small arms tightly against the sides of your body, holding you in front of him as he spoke, sometimes women need to be put back into their place. it made sense to your five year old self back then when you had no idea what being in love was like. as you got older, the reality of it became more apparent. he never did it infront of you again after you caught him slapping her when your mother accidentally broke a dish.

at the age of thirteen, you had rushed at him. pushing him away as you once did when you were smaller. fear covered your body but you stood strong infront of your father. maybe he knew he couldn’t manipulate your mind anymore, instead choosing to walk away and never speak on the subject again. since then, you’d never seen it happen but the evidence was there. the random new bruises or scratches that would appear on your mother became more obvious than ever.

confronting her was impossible. she chose to lie, claiming she bumped into something, oh you know me, clumsy as can be. it was bullshit and when you told her so, she sent you to your room with your so called foul mouth.

so you lived with it. you had too. where else would you go? you never saw or heard it so maybe that was the price to be paid for your innocence?

“prick shouldn’t hav’ to put his hands on anyone for anythin’.. meant to or not, he still hurt you” daryls voice is rough, a ring of anger still lingering in his words.

humming in acknowledgment, you close your eyes as your head tilts up in daryls hands, allowing him to care for you in the only way he does. always so soft and gentle.. just how you should always been handled, he thinks.

your eyes stay closed even as he releases you and shuffles about. his hands cup your face, thumb tracing around the wound tenderly before he leans down and presses a kiss near it.

the corner of your mouth quirks up at the small gesture, not yet a smile but something. you hum again before opening your eyes, blinking to adjust to the light again. daryls eyes linger over your face, leaving not an inch uncovered from his gaze, sometimes he thinks you aren’t real. some perfect figment of his imagination he conjured up to keep him company when he got lonely.

“c’mon” daryl holds a hand out, yours falling easily into his as he leads you to his bedroom. the warmth emitting from your body behind him is enough for him to believe you are infact real and willingly choosing be here with him.. it’s something he will never be able to wrap his head around.

he maneuvers around his room as you sit on the edge of the bed. he lays a shirt next to you but you make no move to put it on. your head hangs down so he can’t see the pitiful face you make, “hey.. hey, wha’s wrong?” he sits next to you, his arms reaching out to pull your body close but you push him away.

“will you stop that?” your voice is watery, “how.. how could you sit here with me after what just happened?”

daryls really fucking confused. he fish mouths for a bit, trying to find the words to say to calm your sudden emotional outburst.

“my father could have killed you..” you shake your head, “i stood there and did nothing..” a sob escapes your mouth, “after everything.. we’re here and you’re trying to take care of me when you can barely walk..” you heave deeply, “it never should have happened.. it’s my fault, daryl.. i’m so sorry”

daryl feels a bit tossed around at how you got here but there is one thing he knows for sure, “this ain’t yer fault” his tone is stern, “what yer father did.. tha’s on him, not you, got it?”

your shoulders shake as tears fall from your eyes, your head turning into your shoulder as you refuse to look at daryl. the act is childish but you can’t help it as you feel so small, so upset, so…. dumb for thinking that you could keep this hidden. that one day you would just up and leave with daryl without a trace. a stupid pipe dream, that’s all you had for your future.

“ya’ not getting it. listen to me.” daryl huffs, chewing on his lips roughly as he considers his next words before gripping your chin to face him, “… i love you” you let out a soft gasp but he continues, “i’d take as many beatings as it took to keep doing so”

“i wouldn’t ask of that from you” you lean your forehead against his, aching heart warm at his words. ones you never thought you’d hear before.

“don’ matter.. would do it all over again if it meant saving you from being hurt” his thumb brushes over the wound you suffer, his own stomach clenching at not being able to stop your father before letting it happen.

you notice the slight grimace on his face, the hurt he holds at the smallest fact that you were hurting. he is unreal, you think.

“i love you too, ya know that?” that familar glint is back in your eyes as you gaze into his. daryl is transfixed at the confirmation and all he can do is nod numbly, because.. he knows. maybe he has always known but his use of denial was always stronger. in this moment though, it’s powerless to the way you look at him and not a single doubt that you feel the same way towards him- fill him.

you chose to stay with him after your fathers threat, you cleaned him up, you worried about him.. how could he think any different when you have showed him in every way you could tonight and every other moment you had together? deserving of your love? that’s a different story but right now, daryl would rather bask in the love you have for one another than worry about such things.

you press a kiss to his lips, one full of your emotions towards him but it doesn’t go further than that, both of you exhausted and still hurting. your bodies separate to change as you grab the shirt daryl laid out for you, stripping down and slipping into it. it’s soft, hangs just below your butt and smells so much like him- earthly with a hint of nicotine.

you’re quicker at changing compared to daryl who stands a few feet away, wincing as he bends over to remove his jeans. he jumps when he feels your hands graze his, he didn’t even hear you sneak up on him. when your eyes meet, a quick shared conversation between them, he lets his hands go and allows yours to take their place. you help slide his jeans down and he kicks the rest off as you rise back up.

your fingers fiddle with the end of his shirt before you begin lifting it. when it’s fully off, you hold his gaze, afraid to look down but soon your eyes betray you as they fall to his midsection. massive red and purple bruises scatter across his stomach, going as high as his ribs and trailing as low as his hips.

“god… daryl” your fingers barely graze the bruises, in fear of hurting him more as they look so painful.

“told ya ’m fine..”

“it doesn’t look fine, you’re clearly in pain”

“i’ve had worse.. can we jus’ rest? jus’ wanna lay down with ya.. please” his voice is tired but soft and when he asks like that, how could you refuse?

he slips into bed first with the help of you before he scoots back and holds an arm out. you shuffle to turn the lights off before crawling in, facing him as you lie down. it’s silent as you study each others faces with the only light coming from the moon through the open window.

“so pretty..” the glow of the moonlight is just enough for you catch the pink that spreads on daryls cheeks after he lets his inner thoughts slip. you shake your head, a smile finally slipping onto your lips.

“you’re ridiculous” daryl just hums, the corner of his mouth quirking up. his hand cups your jaw, thumb tracing the grin upon your lips and you can’t help but let out a small giggle at the ticklish feeling. a certain playfulness in his touch that has you quirking an eyebrow in question, “thought you wanted to rest..”

daryl lets out a soft scoffed laugh, his fingers playfully pinching your nose, “alrigh’ smart ass”

you turn your head to the hand on your face, kissing his palm, “i love you..”

daryl hums, leaning in so he can kiss your forehead, then your nose, and then a bruising one full of love onto your lips. i love you too. your bodies shuffle about the bed until your back is pressed to daryls naked chest, him closing the distance you had originally set in fear of hurting him but he simply wrapped an arm around you and pulled you back until your bodies laid flushed together. a breath of relief released from you at the contact.

“ya gonn’ go home?” daryl questions quietly.

you shrug, “maybe.. eventually i’ll have to, right?”

it’s silent for a bit, “could jus’ shack it up in ‘ere with me”

you let out a small laugh, daryl hiding his own amusement into your neck.

“we’ll figure it out, yeah? me and you?” your voice is unsure, something you have never been about when it came to you and him but the unknown of what’s next terrifies you as you lay there in the silence.

daryl squeezes your body, pressing a reassuring kiss to the back of your shoulder, “we’ll figure ‘t out.. now go to sleep.”

the reality is you’ll have to go back, you know that. daryl too. you both were only in highschool, graduation just a couple months out.. you weren’t sure what the plan was after but as you lay wrapped in daryls arms, it didn’t matter so long as you had him by your side.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd fic #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon imagine #rite4fun #romantic #non-apocalyptic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years ago

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Nightlife 6

Warnings: touching, coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note: I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you doing this? Well, you wanted bouncer Lee and I did too. Also, short!reader, not sorry.

Your heart wrenches violently as you stare at the grade beside your last quiz. You sink down in the seat of the lecture hall, suppressing a sob as you bite your knuckle. It's not just Developmental Psych, its Cognitive Processes and Social Psych too. You’re barely passing anything.

The rest of the class is already packing up. As usual, you're behind. You close your laptop and fold away the desk. You zip up your bag and sling it from your shoulder, the weight bouncing with your heavy steps.

You traipse out behind a pair of guys talking about some party. You never know. You're not smart or popular. College is just an extension of high school. You're still as lame as ever.

What are you going to do? Your dad's going lose it. If your scholarship falls through, you're in real trouble.

Your feet carry you without thought. You're going to go home and curl into a ball. You want to shrink and hide from everyone.

As you come out to the main row of campus, you wipe your cheek, realising only then that you're crying. You sniff and swipe away more tears as you tell yourself to suck it up. You're just a mess.

A honk makes you wince and you spin as tires scuff up against the curb. You recognize the unique colour of the car and think of running in the other direction. Not him again. Not right now.

"Hey, darlin', y’all done for the day?"

You peer around. The only people who notice give you a dirty look as they pass by, while others walk by without an ounce of concern. You sigh and drag your feet over the patch of grass, bending look through the window.

"Um, hi," you eke out, "I'm just… heading to the library."

He considers you as the engine rumbles and he keeps his hand on the wheel. Your mind flashes with the memory of the night before. His hand on his...

"You cryin', sweet thing? Who's gone and done that?" His brow arches as his jaw sharpens.

"N-no one," you wipe your nose with the back of your hand, "sorry, I was just… I'm okay."

"You aren't, look at ya. And you want me to let you go off on your own? You gotta study, you come over," he insists.

"Sir, really, I–"

"Now I drove all the way down here so don't you be arguin'. Get in, darlin'."

You blink and furrow your brow. How did he even know you'd be on campus at this very moment. You mentioned you had early classes but was he just waiting around to find you?

"You're starting to make me feel bad here, sweetheart," he grips the shifter, "I done nothing but good for ya, so you climb on in. I'll set you up a nice little study nook, how about that?"

You look from side to side. No one cares. They just go on in their lives, as if it's all so normal. You can't say it isn't and you can't argue with him. He hasn't asked for anything really.

The locks slide up and the noise breaks the last of your resistance. Your lie doesn't hold up. No point in going to the library when it doesn't seem to help.

You open the door and drop into the seat in defeat. You bring your bag around to your lap and pout. Lee lifts his hand to the back of your seat as he looms.

"Now, don't be doin' all that. Gimme a kiss, little blossom."

You hug your bag and lean over, turning to kiss his cheek. He moves so your lips meet his and you squeak in surprise. His tongue glides along the creases of your mouth and you quickly pull away.

"Whatsa matter?" He snarls, "I ain't done nothin' so whatever has got ya all upset, don't be taking it out on me."

"No, sir, it's just… I just… never done much kissing."

"Well, we can work on that, huh?"

You nod and pull the seatbelt across. You just want to go. You can't even look up at the college buildings. To think you were so excited for school and it's all gone so poorly.

He's quiet as he shifts into gear and presses down on the gas, following the slow draw of traffic. He clears his throat and pushes his shoulders back. You slump down lower and lower.

"So you gonna tell me what's goin' on?"

"It's nothing," you play with the zipper tab on your bag, "just school."

"Got something important comin' up? I'm sure you'll do just fine, smart girl like yourself."

You shake your head and slouch even further. Another swell of despair overwhelms you. You bury your face in your hands and sniffle.

"Aw, don't cry," he reaches to squeeze your shoulder, "now, you can't do that, darlin', I don't like to see you so torn up."

You suck in air and flick another wave of tears away. You make yourself sit up and clutch your hands over the front pocket of your bag. His thumb rubs your arm firmly as he keeps the wheels in motion.

"I'm not doing good. In anything," you confess, "my dad is gonna hate me. I know it and… and I don't know what to do." You heave and lean into the door, "it's dumb. Childish. You probably don't care."

"Oh, sweet thing, I do care," he drops his hand down to your leg, "it's gonna be okay. It's early, isn't it? You got time to bring your marks up, huh?"

"No," you swallow, "no, just finals and… and I can't…"

"Don't go sinking in the mud just yet," he pats your thigh then squeezes, "anything happens, I'll be here. I'll take care of ya, you know that."

"Hmmm?" You glance over at him as you cradle your cheek.

"Course I will, so don't you worry about your daddy. He can't be mad if you're trying your best."

You scratch your nose and nod. You don't know what to say. You don't expect him to be so nice. You expect a lecture but he isn't your father. He's… well, you don't know quite what to call him.

"So how about, we go back to my place, you get your stuff sorted out, we'll have some dinner and maybe, well, you could stay the night, if you're too tired. Know I don't mind at all."

"Well, I don't… I don't know. Tomorrow…"

"I gotta work, ya see, and I uh was hoping for a favour," he draws spirals on your thigh, "I found this little kitten, was all filthy and hungry. I don't wanna leave him too long, sweet little thing, so, uh you think you could stay and watch him? You like cats?"

"Oh, a kitten?" You wonder.

"Ah, yeah, I couldn't just leave it down in the alley," he tuts, "who would do something like that to a sweet little animal?" He stops at a light and looks over at you, lifting his hand to your face, "you seem like the doting type. Like you could take good care of him." He tickles your cheek softly, "'sides, he needs a name."

You can't help but smile. You never had a pet before. Your dad didn't let you. And you won't feel so bad with the distraction.

"Okay," you agree, "I guess I can stay a bit."

#lee bodecker x reader #dark lee bodecker #lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #nightlife #the devil all the time #au #drabble #series

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lululandd · 2 years ago

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being john ‘soap’ mactavish’s significant other would include:

had a little power outage today and legit had nothing to do so i wrote these

♡ babysitting his nieces and nephews.

this man has hella extended family and he loves them so so so so so much so he visits them fairly often and ofc they all flock to him when he does. you two would take them out on walks and does playtimes and cute little sleepovers. (mans has onesies and jammies that matches with them its so heartwarming)

♡ funny post-it notes around the place.

you would be looking for something in a cupboard and he’d leave a note saying ‘i put it on the top shelf’ and when you rummage around the top shelf there’d be a note saying ‘made ya look lol (im just kidding its right here)’. there would also be sweet notes hidden in jacket pockets🥺💖 like the true romantic prankster he is.

♡ night screaming.

he seems nonchalant and doesnt need to decompress after work like his teammates does, but he does suffer night terrors and he screams in his sleep. his teammates names, or just a loud ‘NO’ and a myriad other things. sleeping medicine makes this a lot worse because you cant wake him up from whatever nightmare he is having quick enough and he screams for much longer so he doesnt take sleeping meds or anything that could induce drowsiness. it's terrible when he has a cold because on one hand he needs the sleep and the medicine but on the other it would make the nightmares last longer.

♡ ice.

soap loves sucking and chewing on ice. is it is it in the middle of winter? he does not care he still will be doing it. sometimes he kisses you after and holds you in place as you laugh and try to squirm away.

♡ inadvertently picking up his accent.

especially if you're not scottish but lives in scotland. you’re not mocking him you swear!

♡ big fat quiz of the year.

he loves watching these and play along. he misses so much civilian things and would love to know what events he missed during the year. he found out gaz also watches these and they legit spent 15 minutes giggling about the mitchell brook primary school children, repeating their little “oh nooo!”

♡ helping him shave his mohawk.

mans love it when you touch his head gently and begs you to cut his hair every couple weeks as the sides grow out. he pretends as if he ‘cant get the back part right’ on his own.

♡ endless spongebob quotes.

it started because you accidentally said escalators three times in a row and he automatically replies with “EELS” in a deep voice, and you two just lost it. nowadays one of you could point at meatballs in the supermarket, and both would chant “meatballs meatballs spaghetti underneath!” and later if you two happen to pass by the pasta section, “ravioli ravioli great barrier reef!”

#john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing

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writer-komaru · 2 years ago

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₊˚ପ⊹ Prey of the Snake Eyes (*❦ω❦)/‘˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

✧Rating: Smut + Slight NonCon

✧Characters: Thirteen

✧Word Count: 2.4k

✧Summary: Your decision to wear matching costumes with Mammon to the Devildom annual Halloween party was the last straw for a certain snake-eyed reaper. One moment you’re playing classic carnival games and winning prizes, the next you’re pulled into a secluded spot in the eerie haired house and shown who you really belong to. Try to keep quiet all you want, she��s not stopping till you’re sobbing loud enough to rattle the walls of the celestial realm.

“This was such a cute idea! But how in the world did you get Levi to help make these for us?” You asked Mammon while happily twirling around in front of the mirror.

“My amazing persuasive skills and a little bit of bribery never hurt anyone,” Mammon chuckled to himself as he rested his arm on your shoulder and joined you in front of the mirror.

“You didn’t hear it from me but you look smokin’ hot as Yoimiya,” he playfully nudges you with his elbow, “Everyone’s gunna be so jealous.”

“Yeah, so very jealous that I'm going with The Arataki Itto, that’s what,” you nudge him back and put your hands on your hips.

“Haha, now that’s a given,” he smirks and combs his fingers through his hair. After a quick laugh at his antics you both rush out of the door to make it to the location on time. This wasn’t your first time going to Devildom’s annual Halloween party, but it was the first time you were not only going with someone but dressing up with them too. Usually you and the rest of the demon brothers go as a group, but this year RAD decided it was a great idea to give out a heavily weighted quiz the day after the party so everyone’s held up in their rooms studying. The only reason you and Mammon are going is because he never really cared about his studies and says ‘he could do it with his eyes closed’ and you completed your studies early. You were honestly very happy you didn’t have to go alone because parties are always more fun with friends. But there's just one thing you feel like you’re forgetting…

“Are you sure we brought everything?” You remarked, looking through your purse as you walked.

“What would we need to bring to a Halloween party besides ourselves?” He laughed it off, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze.

“Well I don’t know, maybe things like money, keys to the house, our phones, our tickets-“

“Yeah yeah yeah I get it, I’d be lost without you, what else are ya tryin’ to prove, huh?” He snickered and squeezed your hand again.

“I’m glad you realize it,” you laugh with him and eventually reach the entrance to the event. It’s decorated with vines, fake bats, and cutouts of ghosts and other monsters. It looks a little more cute than scary, though. But the interior is a lot more appealing as you two enter. There’s tons of mini games, other demons in costumes, a corn maze, a haunted house, and even a fountain filled with smoking purple water. This might have just been your imagination but you could have sworn Mammon’s eyes sparkled like bright fireworks at the idea of getting to experience all these attractions with you.

“They fuckin’ got apple bobbin’ too! Come on, we gotta go see!” He excitedly pulled your arm, causing you to yelp as he dragged you towards the buckets of apples. That was until both of you suddenly stopped.

“Huh? What gives?!” Mammon narrows his eyes, ready to square with any insignificant demon pleb that dared to interrupt his private time with you. Instead, he realized he was face to face with a bubbly, smiling face and a pair of sharp, snake-like eyes.

“Why hello again Sheepy and… company?” Thirteen waved to you and gave a curious look to Mammon, “Ohhh, you’re that funny guy who tried using a fishing rod while on the roof to snatch things out of people’s bags! Hahaha, that had me in tears!”

His face lit up in an embarrassed and angry blush, “It was one fucking ti- I mean, HOW DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?!”

“Wait mammon you actually tried something like that…?” You raised your eyebrow. You knew he would do anything for some quick Grimm but that seems way too cartoony, even for him.

Thirteen continued giggling, playfully slapping him on the back, “Could have used a better escape plan though! Falling off the roof and into the bushes wasn't the best idea.”

“J-just shut up, would ya?! It’s none of your business!!” He snapped back, pulling you closer to him by the arm.

“Alright fine, I’ve had my fun. And I don’t just come here to embarrass you or something, I came here for the little sheepy over here!~” She flashed you a smirk, causing Mammon’s blood to boil. She caught a glimpse at the hand tucked behind his back and the glimmering gold chains swirling around his fingertips and looked away from you, “But it seems you’re a little occupied at the moment, what a bummer. Guess I’ll just have to wait my turn, Cya around, sheepy!” As she bounded away, she drifted a teasing nail across your chest.

“That reaper girl… ugh, whatever, let’s just ignore her,” Mammon huffed as he motioned you back towards the apple buckets.

Throughout the whole night you couldn’t stop thinking about her, over and over, especially how she touched your chest. Was she trying to hint at something?

“Hey, earth to MC, pay attention! It’s no fun winnin’ if you’re just gonna count every star in the sky all night!” Mammon snapped his fingers in front of your face.

“Huh? What? Oh, sorry my bad. It’s uh, just a beautiful night tonight, I got distracted,” you laughed it off, picking your water gun back up and aiming it right at the target ahead of you.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, sore loser- Hey, quit that, you might actually beat me!” He exclaims, trying to fire twice as fast. After a very close match, you managed to come out on top by only a few points, being rewarded with a cute plushie bat with devil horns.

“Ughhh no fair, I shouldn’t have snapped your attention back and taken the free win instead,” he groaned to himself as you two walked away from the booth, hanging his head low dramatically.

“Look who’s the sore loser now?” You smirked, jabbing him in the shoulder.

“Shut it, I’m not a sore loser! Uh- there! See that game over there? First one to get a prize is the real winner! I’m totally going to wipe that shit eating grin off your face!” He points at the high striker game in the distance and sprints over to it. Excited by the challenge, you begin to follow him, only to feel a familiar pair of hands grace your shoulders.

“Huh? What the-!” You gasp as you're suddenly yanked into the haunted house, a mischievous giggle leading the way to a dark, secluded hallway.

“Was the little sheepy surprised?” A pair of bright green snake-like eyes illuminated the darkness. It was… thirteen?

“Huh? Thirteen? What’s this about? Mammon and I were-“ She presses her pointer finger against your lips.

“Shhhhh~ just forget all about that greedy crow. I’m way more fun than he or anyone in all of Devildom, I thought you knew that by now~” she smirks and once again traces a nail down the middle of your chest. You gulp nervously as the thoughts of your… previous encounters imprint themselves back into your mind.

“B-but we… I’m…” Your heart rate and breathing accelerate more and more as the mischievous reaper leans over you, caging you against the wall.

“Don’t be scared, little sheepy. I'm just here to talk, that’s it!~ Then I’ll let ya go, sounds good?” Her sweet voice becomes a low whisper right against your ear, causing a shiver to run straight down your spine. She smirks at your reaction but doesn’t mention it.

“Whenever I see you nowadays, you’re always hanging around those demon brothers. What’s the deal, huh? I know you’re roommates or whatever but come on, don’t tell me you’d rather get pulled around like their dog on a leash than have some fun with little old me,” she pouts playfully, nudging her thigh between your legs, “And don’t think I can’t see the way they look at you. I can tell they want you, they want you more than just roommates or even friends for that matter. It’s almost amusing. Because no matter how much they want you,” she smirks once more and rubs her thigh against your twitching heat, making you release a whine, “You’re aaaaaall mine~”

“T-thirteen, w-we are in public someone will-“ Your heart skips a beat as she chuckles devilishly, an evil smile stretching across her face.

“Someone will see? Is that it? And so what? Just means more demons will finally realize who you belong too. And I’d guess you like that too, huh?” Her eyes narrow as she grabs your hips and slides them harder against his plush thigh. It’s almost humiliating how good she’s making you feel. You bite your lip, turning away from her, doing your best to hold on to your last shreds of dignity in the face of this flirtatious reaper. But you should have already known fighting back against her is pointless.

“Trying to hold back? Think your cute little body can resist? How silly~ You may be a very special and important human but you’re still just a human with normal human weaknesses~” She laughs at your feeble attempts and doubles down, rubbing your poor, twitching sex harder against her thigh and leaning down to litter rushed hickeys down your neck. If you shunted just a bit it wouldn’t take much to confuse her for a succubus.

“Come on little sheepy, just give in so I can show you a better time than that Mammon guy~” She rolled her eyes at the mere mention of his name, “Playing fun carnival games, wearing matching costume, holding hands, Ughh it’s just insufferable… but I’m getting off topic, I can already tell your body has given up~”

You look down at your hips and watch helplessly as you hump against her leg, small pants and gasps leaving your mouth. She was right.

“What will it be? Want me to continue this or do you wanna peace right back over to the demon that isn’t even looking for you? Who will you choose, the pesky little demon boys or your gorgeous and powerful reaper of souls?~” she waited expectedly for your response, her fingertips snaking under your outfit and teasing the edge of your shorts.

You knew leaving Mammon wasn't a very good idea. If he found you like this it might ignite a second war. But the longer she had you pinned against the wall, grinding your aroused sex in just the right ways to make you lose your mind.

“Agh…damn it… I g-give up…” you finally relented, causing an excited giggle to leave her glossy lips.

“Good little sheepy, I knew you’d tap out eventually. You’ve never been able to resist me and you ever will~” she smirks happily before pulling your shorts down to your knees, making you hiss as the cold, musky air of the creepy hallway greets your dripping, clenching pussy.

“Oh my, look at how damn wet you are from just my thigh, it’s so adorable~” she whispers as she traces small patterns over your pulsing clit, sliding down to your fluttering cunt. Her strokes from your twitching hole to your sensitive clit sends your body into a frenzy, shivering and whimpering like a virgin.

“It feels good doesn’t it? I bet those ignorant demon boys could only dream of touching you like this. Hehehe almost makes me wanna snap a pretty picture of your sweet little pussy taking my fingers and slip a copy under each of their doors, just so they know what they're missing~” Her threats fall on deaf ears as she carefully punges two fingers into your cunt, making sure her thumb doesn’t stop massaging your clit. Your hips buck up into her fingers as they prod against your g spot, almost immediately making your head tilt back to release a surprised moan.

“T-thirteeeeennnnghhh, shit, this feels so good…” You whine and arch your back.

“Oh, I can tell~ I’m only using two fingers but you’re acting like I’m splitting you open. Are you close? Ready to cum already?~” she snickered and gave your g spot a firm rub before thrusting her fingers even faster.

“Mmm, fuck, gunna cum, I need to cu-“ Your half lidded eyes flew open as the sounds of echoed footsteps rung out from some here in the haunted house, “S-someone’s her- AGh?!~”

You looked down in fear as three skilled fingers pounded into your pussy and Thirteen’s lips wrapped around your throbbing bud. You knew damn well she could hear those footsteps just as well as you did. Such a troublemaker, through and through. Your orgasm was quickly approaching as the warmth built up more and more in your abdomen, showing no signs of stopping.

“MC?! Damn it, where are you?! Answer me!” Mammon’s worried voice grew closer and closer, footsteps rushing down the opposing hall. All it would take is one turn at the corner and one more thrust against your sweet spot and he would get to witness the sight of his crush cumming all over someone else’s fingers. The image of that lewd scene was both terrifying and hot at the same time, making your stimulated cunt squeeze even tighter.

“Oh?~ Don’t tell me… does the little pure sheepy like the thought of being found with their pussy being fucked? Hehehe, I’ll take your twitches as a yes,” An almost sadistic expression spread across her face from in between your legs. If that look means what you think it means, you were really in for it. A stream of moans rip from your throat as she sucked harshly on your clit, finger fucking you so hard your pussy’s squelching could probably be heard from all the way at the fucking entrance of the haunted house.

“Aaagghh, s-slow do- f-faster… fuckkk, slow D-DOWNNNGHH!~~’” Your body shook pathetically as the dreaded footsteps picked up speed.

“Yeah, keep crying out like a good little sheepy. You’re mine, and no one else’s. Now cum, cum all over my tongue and show Mammon how much better I make you feel~”

The boiling heat in your pussy was far too impossible to hold back any longer, exploding into a spasm of muscles and loud moans as your hot slick spilled into Thirteen’s eager mouth. The horrified look of betrayal on Mammon’s face you caught the glimpse of before your dazed eyes blinked closed is one that will stay permanently engraved in your mind the next time you try to go out with another demon.

Reblog + Comment + Like if you’d like to see more obey me or Thirteen in specific writing!

(I took a small break cuz of burn out and I’m ready to keep on writing! Sorry this is a bit short, I had more of a smaller idea going in than I did the other ones. Expect more writing soon <3)

#obey me mc #obey me #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me thirteen #thirteen x river #obey me thirteen x reader #thirteen x mc #obey me nightbringer #afab reader #gn pronouns

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sanerontheinside · 3 months ago

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I Work in an Institution, part 1

—teacher's notes

I started teaching in 2020—during covid lockdowns—which of course was nothing anyone could have prepared us for. One of the things that migrated into the skillset fairly quickly was the ability to adapt, on a dime, to whatever bullshit wasn't working that day. Frequently you'd do this within the first 5 minutes of your first class, when you discovered a new Google Meet update wasn't up to snuff.

First attempts were shaky, sure, but by the end of the day you had a decent idea of what was missing and how to make it better next time. A lot of times, you just made do: ok, so this isn't perfect, but everyone can actually see what I'm doing, so—yeah, it'll be fine.

And ideally, you'd end up with a good idea for what you actually needed (ex: document camera so the kids could see you writing notes by hand). You pretty much figured out how to bring the situation under your control, and then you went from there.

Now, whenever the internet isn't working in school, or I can't print anymore for some reason, the MO is just to look for a way out. Is there another device that prints? Can you get on a hotspot? Who do you know with a desktop printer, and doesn't mind you occasionally begging a favour? (and isn't clear across the building, while we're at it)

The upside of it being 2024 is—theoretically—a lot less stuff is outside of your control. We don't rely on Google Meet anymore, and aren't inconvenienced by an unexpected rollout. When I do example lessons during interviews, I don't have to figure out how to use Zoom while teaching a demo class of real live childen (a painful experience).

You'd like to think we wouldn't have unexpected issues in the bagging area, only now the devils are inside the building: our IT department has decided to make the system more secure, in the name of making their lives easier. Which would be fantastic, actually! —If it weren't also happening in ways that frequently and actively hamper our efforts to get anything done.

For instance, if you're logged in on device A, turns out you frequently have to wait about half an hour before you can log in on device B. For me, this results in a pretty much daily occurrence of 1) logging onto the smartboard, 2) attempting to log in on my work laptop, 3) waiting for 20-30 minutes before the work laptop discovers it can connect to the in-house network.

Mind you, during this time I can't make it connect to the guest network either, because the SSL certificate for that is expired. Even on my personal device I have to acknowledge that the certificate's expired, so I could be signing in to get my info stolen—but on the work device I can't enter it at all. On my personal, I have to enter credentials again, register, log in... not a lot in the grand scheme of things, but I get booted off this network every time my personal device powersaves. This adds up to a lot of clicks and seconds, and if it doesn't take a lot of physical time I can promise you it shaves off soul-minutes.

(there's a workaround: just play a 10 hour youtube video. run down your battery a little, what'll it cost ya)

But the problem, ultimately, isn't any of these one things. It's that if you throw on another hiccup, suddenly all your little glitches and troubles become death by a thousand cuts. If you're rushing through creating 3 versions of a quiz for 5th period, suddenly you're swatting down these problems from every corner.

Today, my work laptop stopped printing (smartboard was fine), the printing rooms were out of paper (I have a stash), and because I logged in in too many places too fast, I got locked out of work accounts on my personal device, where I was editing my quiz (I logged into a work-related personal google account on the work laptop and went from there). All of these added whole minutes to my workflow. Felt like eons.

I'm tired of having 50 workarounds and having to come up with 100 more, experimenting with them as I go. I want the equivalent of my old document camera: a system under my control, almost entirely non-reliant on school networks.

Well, if nothing else, the search should be interesting.

#i work in an institution #wouldn't it be nice if we had to change passwords for powerschool and the laptops at the same time?#(ok fine theoretically forcing us to have 2 different passwords that don't sync up is safer)#wouldn't be cool if we didn't get logged out of our google acct in the middle of the day‚ between classes?#wouldn't it be great if we supported robust excellent software and weren't looking for a way to kill it—#—because we're 'not a microsoft forward district'‚ whatever that means?

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avatarmerida · 2 years ago

Text

Um idk what to say about this except Hunter deserves to receive more compliments and Amity has never known how to process Willow’s taste in men

“Okay guys, just gimme like 10 minutes, okay?” Willow said, running eagerly ahead. “I just wanna check on my plants real quick. I’m sure they’re okay but I just wanna be totally sure because I-.”

“Go on, we’ll be fine!” Said Amity, seeing Willow was slowing herself down for their sake but desperately wanted to run ahead. Willow didn’t need to be told twice as she darted full speed up the stairs to her room. From the sound of it, her plants were just fine and delighted to see her. As they headed back to the Owl House, Willow’s house was on the way and when she had asked if they could make a quick pit stop Camila saw nothing wrong so long as they were quick and stayed together.

Hunter smiled at the distant sound of Willow happily greeting her plants as he looked around the living room, suddenly aware that it looked stuck in time. A few months ago it was brimming with life and light, and now it was dark and cold without Willow and her dads gracing the rooms with their love and laughter.

“Hey, what are these?” Hunter asked, turning to the dining room table which was covered in glossy brightly colored books.

“Oh, those are just some silly magazines Willow and I used to read when we’d do our homework,” said Amity as she walked in from the kitchen, the vibrant colors reminding her of a less chaotic time. “We would fill out the quizzes inside and gush about these bard coven bands and argue over who our favorite was.”

“Really? Heh.” Hunter flipped through the pages with a quizzical smirk, remembering Willow had once mentioned listening to a band once while they were messaging on penstagram back when they had first met. “Who was Willow’s favorite?”

“Take a guess.”

“Probably the most handsome one, right?” He said pointing to the obvious front man whose face was featured much more than the other members in the collection of mini posters that occupied the series of pages.

“Uh, not exactly,” said Amity, pointing to the corner to the “mysterious loner” of the group. His smile was more reserved than the others and his overall demeanor carried something... familiar.

“Him? Really?” Hunter chuckled, swearing he saw imprints of faded green lipstick stains near his photo. He wondered just how long they had been fading.

“I dunno, Willow has... unique taste.” Amity said with a shrug and slightly soured look. “We very rarely agree on things like that. I mean, she does not get Azura like at all, which just doesn’t make sense if I’m being honest, because I think...”

As Amity continued ranting, Hunter flipped through the pages and read the silly answers written in Willow’s bubbly handwriting, each ‘I’ dotted with a flower and the words twirling at the end as though they were carefully arranged vines. He treated her circled answers like a treasured artifact, admiring the little hearts and daisies she doodled in the corner of the pages. He also couldn’t help but want to take the silly quiz himself and see if their answers matched.

“...but I guess disagreeing can inspire debates. I mean, like the other day I was telling her how when I first met you I called you scrawny and that practically set her off because when she first met you she thought you were sooo cute, so obviously we don’t-.”

“She thought I was cute?” Hunter repeated, tuning back into Amity's rambling.

“Huh? Oh.” Amity’s hand sprang to her mouth, quickly realizing she should not have said that. “Uh maybe? Ya know, ha, it was so long ago, I might be misremembering. Actually, she might have been talking about a wet cat she saw on her way to school so actually-.”

“You just said you were talking about it yesterday.”

“Did I say that? You know, it was so long ago who can really remember what I said, we should-.”

“Amity, if you’re gonna make fun of me could you at least not use Willow? I don’t know why you’d think-.”

“I’m not making fun of you! I just, uh...” Amity insisted, quickly looking back at the staircase to make sure Willow wasn’t coming back yet. She changed her voice to a harsh whisper. “Ugh, okay listen, Willow would kill me if she knew I told you this but... do you remember before Halloween when I told you to change out of your costume?”

“Yeah?”

“She was actually really upset that I said that because she thought that you looked... handsome.”

Now THAT is a look

“Me?” Hunter asked as though there was someone else she could’ve been referring to.

DON’T listen to her.

“Yeah?” Amity replied, still unable to give a reason. “I mean, she was so mad at me for telling you to change, she threatened to summon a cactus to my bus seat before I sat down.” Amity laughed at the memory, knowing Willow was only a little serious about following through. “And she stared at the photo she took of you like the entire ride, like you were a magazine model or something.”

“She thought I looked... handsome? In my costume? Like the costume I’m wearing right now?”

“Shh! Yes, but you can’t tell her I told you,” said Amity, looking around paranoid. “I wouldn’t lie about that though, I promise.”

Hunter made his way into the living room, finding his reflection for the first time in a hall mirror. It was dusty but still he could see the difference from the last time he had seen his own face. There was a lot to process. Days ago he looked completely different and now it was though he had suddenly aged, he was tired and dirty and covered with scars.

“Do you think... she still thinks I look handsome in it?” He said, his hand tracing his newest scar. “Ya know, with how... different I look?”

“Well,” Amity started, knowing there was more within the inquiry. “She also talked about how much she liked you, ya know? The way you talk, what you talk about-

“She never mentioned my voice being... annoying?”

“No, actually,” Amity said, realizing Willow was probably the only person she had never heard refer to it in such a way, even as a joke. “Which is saying something because she used to always say that having bad eyesight made her hearing better,” Amity recalled. “I don’t know if that’s true or not but Even when you wore those hideous shoes with the holes all over them she still thought you were so cool... for some reason.”

Handsome AND cool? It seemed too good to be true.

“Does she... talk about me a lot?”

“Ya know, if you really wanna know what Willow thinks about you then you should ask her,” said Amity softly, putting her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “But don’t tell her you talked to me, otherwise she’ll get suspicious.”

“But has she said anything about... the way I look now?”

“Oh no, you’re not getting any more information from me!” said Amity dramatically, walking back to the kitchen table. “I’ve said too much already, if she ever found out that I said any of this I’d have more than a cactus to worry about.”

“But why wouldn’t she want me to know? Is she embarrassed?”

“Well I dunno, do you tell Willow you think she looks nice every time you think she looks nice?”

Hunter opened his mouth to offer a smug response before he realized that while he did in fact let Willow know she looked nice it was usually agreeing with someone. She would walk down to the basement to show off a new dress she had found while thrift shopping with Vee and wanted to show how nicely it complimented the cardigan Hunter had repaired for her and Hunter would be in awe of how she always managed to pick colors that brought out her eyes. He would think how lovely, how stunning, how utterly beautiful she looked but he never said these words.

Instead, Gus would usually deliver the compliment. He’d say “Wow, Willow you look great!” and then nudge Hunter in the ribs with his elbow as he’d raise an eyebrow and say “Doesn’t she Hunter?” Willow would look at him with anticipating eyes for his thoughts, but the sparkle that found her eyes with her expectations only increased the things to say, and Hunter would end up only being able to nod in agreement or mumble a simple “yes.”

Is that how he made Willow feel? How could he ever...?

“Fair point,” He cleared his throat and tried not to convey the journey his mind was on and hoping he seemed like he was totally normal about the question. “Thank you for your clarification, I shall keep the matter between us.”

“You’re not gonna act... weird about this are you?” Amity asked, fairly certain she already knew the answer.

“Me? Weird? No! W-w-why would I be weird about this?” Hunter sputtered nervously.

Oh, she definitely already knew the answer.

“Okay, well I hear her coming back so zip it,” ordered Amity. “If I wake up with a cactus in my sleeping bag, I’m taking you down with me, spaceman.”

Hunter wouldn't know how to bring it up even if he wanted to.

“Sorry it took so long,” said Willow, entering the room on a vine. “But they’re doing great, luckily the automatic water system I instilled has been working perfectly.”

“That’s great, Willow.” said Amity with a smile.

“Yeah that’s totally great!” agreed Hunter, his voice sounding panicked for no apparent reason. “Awesome! Cool! Yeah...”

“Yeah,” agreed Willow, confused by the room’s vibe. “But uh, we should probably get back to the others. I don’t want Camila to worry.”

“Oh yeah, good idea,” agreed Hunter.

“Oh, before I forget,” said Willow, pulling something off her wrist. “I found this yellow scrunchie in my room and I thought since your hair is longer again, you could use it to keep your hair out of your eyes.”

“Really?” he said, as she slipped the hair tie onto his wrist. “Thanks, Willow.”

“’Course,” she said with a smile. “It’s your color, after all. Plus we gotta make sure we can see that pretty face of yours.” She added with a wink.

“Haha yeah o-o-okay,” he said with a gulp. “I should uh, g-g-go check if the coast is clear.”

He ran ahead as Willow chucked to herself, clearly pleased with his reaction. She watched as he ran to the doorway and pulled his hair back into a ponytail and secured it with Willow’s scrunchie.

“Woah, did it just get hotter in here?” Willow whispered to Amity, a faint crimson gracing her cheeks as she watched fondly as he scanned the outside area, his pulled back hair making it easier for her to see his defined jawline. Before Amity could offer her comment on the change in temperature, Willow cut her off as she continued in a dreamy tone. “Never mind, I think it’s just Hunter. If ya know what I mean.” she added playfully, bumping Amity’s arm with her elbow.

“I really, reeeally don't,” groaned Amity as though she was in physical pain, having endured this talk for months in the human realm and now realizing that there was no end in sight. “You have got to stop saying things that to me I am begging you!” Amity pleaded.

“I’ll stop when he stops,” said Willow with a shrug, fanning herself with her hand for emphasis (half to upset Amity further and half because she was truly grateful she had found that scrunchie).

#huntlow #winter toh #willow park #hunter toh #toh #huntlow fanfiction #the owl house #amity blight

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idontplaytrack · 9 months ago

Note

Your fics are so good!!! I was wondering if I could request some top!Jos Cleary-Lopez smut, where reader lets Jos take out her stress and anger out on her because Jos had an awful day

✧ Stress Eating

Jos Cleary-Lopez x fem! reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut. Masturbation(Jos), oral, fingering, spanking(reader receiving). Reader gets sick from a migraine attack.

In which Jos gets pissed off after a serious of unfortunate events happening in school. Reader lets Jos let out some steam.

I couldn’t think of a title, but I guess it fits🫣 lmao

You stayed home from school due to a particularly severe migraine attack. Throughout the day, Jos’ texts to you and responding to you progressively got colder and colder. Until she practically just left you on read. As concerned as you were, with the continuous ache you were feeling in the left side of your head, you couldn’t even focus on worrying but instead in sleeping the pain away. Jos asked you were you were since the school day started this morning but you avoided her question all the way.

You were tossing and turning in bed for a good while before falling into a restless sleep. How’d you wake up? A thud did. You practically jolted awake. “Jos? What the fuck-”

“What the hell, y/n? You couldn’t answer my question? Just had to avoid me, did ya?” She snarked.

Ouch. You didn’t mean to.

“You weren’t any better. I asked you if something happened then you just ignored me?” You scoffed, rubbing the bottom of your palm on your forehead. Jos shot you a look of bewilderment which you didn’t see because your eyes were screwed shut.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, annoyed.

“God, stop.” You groaned, lying back down on your mattress. “If you’re gonna be mad at me, save it for later. I don’t know what happened because you wouldn’t tell me, all I know is my head is fucking hurting and I’m gonna throw up any second.”

Silence fell between the two of you. The only sound cutting through the tense silence was Jos’ heavy breathing which- somehow, was aggravating your migraine. You sat up, exhausted, your feet on the ground by your bed. You were crouched over as you held your head in your hands. “Don’t yell at me, not know. I really can’t-”

“y/n.” You feel her hand barely on your shoulder but you shrug it off and hobbled to the bathroom.

That did it. It snaps her out of her little mood, barely making it in time to hold back your hair to save it from getting in the puke.

“Do you think you’re done?” She asks quietly, rubbing your back.

“With what?” You sat back down. Her hand quickly retracts. “Doesn’t feel nice, does it?” You chuckled wryly.

“I’m sorry.” She apologises, “I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I’ve just had a terrible day at school today.”

“Okay, we talked about this- you gotta talk about it otherwise it’s just gonna build up and up.” You took her hand in your own.

“The lock on my locker? Kept acting up. Fine, at lunch some new kid got shoved by a bully and spilt their lunch all over me. Not their fault- I helped her out, got her away from the bully. I got shoved to the ground. I got called into the principal’s office because some people insisted it was my fault” Jos sighs, “Whatever, y’know? I got changed- luckily I had clothes in my locker. And then in Social Studies, we had a pop quiz so that was great because no one knew where the hell you were- including me. So the teacher kinda gave me shit for it because I wasn’t sure.” “I’m sorry. About everything and that last part- I should’ve at least sucked it up and sent you a text.”

“It’s fine.” She took some deep breaths, “I know how you are with bright lights when you get migraines. It hurts you even more. We’ve both had a bad day.”

You reached out to give her hand a squeeze.

“Do you feel better? After throwing up?” Jos asks softly.

“Luckily, yeah.” You carefully laid back down as she watches you, “You?”

“Pretty much. Now that it’s mostly out of my system.” Jos shrugged, “Get back to sleep, ‘kay? I’m sorry for waking you up.” Jos scooted into the empty spot beside you and rubbed your back till you fell asleep again. “What time is it?” You ask her groggily. “4:06.”

“Oh. Okay.”

————

When you eventually awoken from your nap, it was only because of what you were hearing practically even in your sleep. Jos was whining and whimpering right beside you doing god-knows-what — well, you had a clue but you were too out of it to care until the noises she were making started to make you feel all hot and bothered.

“Jos. What the hell are you doing.” You grumbled.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about all that shit and got myself all stressed out again.” She tells you. And it was so obvious that she was still touching herself because you could hear it and you were right next to her. Has she ever done this before? Absolutely- when you weren’t in the mood. She got that. But not right in front of you. Well…right now? It was really freaking turning you on. You laid on your back, turning your head to look at her.

Jos was unbothered, glancing back at you like she wasn’t doing anything. She raised a brow seeing you biting on your lower lip, a chuckle escapes her mouth. You gulped, there was no doubt she didn’t see the needy gaze of yours as you watched her rubbing her clit. You averted your eyes, trying to get those thoughts out of your head but there was no use fighting it- seeing that your migraine’s pretty much gone anyway after you threw up earlier. Her free hand reaches over and caressed your cheek, “What’s the matter, baby?”

“Um…” You squirmed slightly. “You can take it all out on me if you want.”

“What?” She stopped moving.

“I said.” You sighed, “You can take your stress and anger out on me.” Jos immediately laid down beside you and attacked you with kisses, pushing the blanket off your body then sliding your shorts and underwear down and off your feet. You held onto your calf and put your leg on her hip. Next, her hand rubbed slow circles on your clit to work you up as her mouth continues to busy itself with the task of kissing you. The progression of the kisses from sweet to rough was quick- her teeth grazes your lower lip and bit down on it, you moan into the kiss, reciprocating in a similar fashion. Your hand blindly reaches out find her clit and give it the same stimulation that she was giving yours. Only, she got more aggressive, now hovering over you before you even had the time to process what was going on. Her hungry kisses trails down south from your mouth to your chest. She takes a break there, capturing your nipple in her mouth, giving them a good lick and suck.

You whimpered, hand getting tangled in her hair, “Oh, fuck- Jos.” Upon hearing that, she picks up her pace while kneading your other breast with her free hand and pinching its tip. “Jos~”

She laughs, the warmth of her breath makes you flinch and whine once more before she attacks your other breast similarly. You were already a mess under her touch, the heat and ache in between your legs growing rapidly. You were frustrated and in pain- in need of more of her. Jos just kept going shamelessly groping one breast and sucking the other as though it was her job. You were a noisy fucking mess, yelping, whine and moaning...you tried to keep quiet, but with the way she was playing with you like there was no tomorrow had you thinking about nothing. Nothing but her. Her kisses, her touch, her fingers roaming your body...ghosting the area where you needed her the most- however she decided to do so. Jos firmly grabbed your hips after she detaches from you and yanked you down to the edge of the mattress. Her left forearm presses down on your inner thigh, her right fingers spread your lower lips open and gathered some of your wetness. She was looking at you, you could sense it but you just couldn't look at her. Jos on the other hand, she was ogling at you, planning her next move and observing how your body reacts, how your face contorts and most importantly, the noise you were making for her- because of her. The ache was making you extremely, extremely frustrated. But she was holding back, she didn't want you to give it to you yet.

Jos' thumb brushes over your clit, over and over- it wasn't anywhere near sufficient. Rubbing your cunt, she proceeded to give you a smack. You yelped and the tears that you were holding back just got let loose. You body quivers as you sobbed as she repeatedly smacked you ass and cunt, then rubbed them to draw out sounds of pleasure from your mouth that she was clearly getting off on. But you know what was spurring her on most of all? The fact that you were crying. You needed her so badly that you were in tears.

"Please, Jos- please." You pleaded, "Please, I need you."

She laughs, her breath tickles your cunt seeing how close she was to you, "You need me, baby? Oh, you're such a good girl for me, y/n. I honestly can't thank you enough for letting me fuck you as I please..." Slowly, she began licking your clit in small circles, then her finger dips into your entrance- going in and out, hitting your g-spot without fail each time. It wasn't long before all your thoughts were gone and Jos, she was practically fucking you dumb. You hear her voice and just followed her command each time. "Ass in the air, baby." She detaches from you with an obscene 'pop' sound, flipping you over. You barely stayed on your hands long enough for her to attach her mouth onto your cunt from behind before your top half fell flat.

————

She massages your ass, burying her face deeper into you while you stayed put letting her eat her fill of you. You couldn't hold it any longer...the urge to come was strong and you were having a hard time trying to keep it together because whatever sounds you were making? You had no control over them- Jos had complete control over you, like putty in her hands. Or her mouth, in this case. Your moaning and whining filled the enclosed space- and it was loud. That, you were sure of. And Jos was not done with you- she was devouring you like it was her last chance. But you were so, so desperate to let go and you weren't sure if she wanted that yet.

Nothing coherent has been coming out from your mouth for the last 20 or so minutes, so how were you going to ask her anything at all? Jos picks up her pace again, much to your surprise and you couldn't take it anymore- you unraveled as her tongue was still lapping and she happily ate that up, earning you a hard smack on your ass. "I'm surprised you lasted this long, love." You heard her voice behind you. Your knees started to give way but she had a tight grip on you, forcing you to stay up so she could carry on.

You were fully in tears when she chased after your second orgasm, but it just felt too good for you to want her to stop. With each flick of her tongue, out came her name and a needy sound. Jos'd never felt this turned on, hearing you under her control like this? Doing whatever she pleases to your tight, pulsing cunt. "Jos, I can't- I can't stay up- I-" You managed. Unfazed, she flips you back over, pushing your thighs open as you squirmed and sobbed, overwhelming pleasure building up in your body. If you shifted up, she follows, if you'd somehow ended up moving to the side, there she was. Jos was latched onto like a hungry animal trying to feed...and you were so fucked out your brain'd turned to mush, complying with her ministrations. With each spark that she literally sent down your spine, the tighter the coil in your core got. It was so severe- the need to get that second high, as much as it was starting to hurt a little. It also kinda made you even wetter.

"Think you can squirt for me, hm?" Her mouth barely leaves you enough to speak, "Wanna give that a try, my baby?" You obediently nodded as if on reflex as you feel her fingers slide into your cunt smoothly. They worked together with her mouth and pushed you over the edge just how she'd asked for you to. Your back arches, pushing her even closer to you as you cried her name repeatedly while she assisted you in coming down from your forceful climax.

Jos soon snaps out of her mood quickly, as she clambered back up to meet your face when she heard your cries. "Are you alright, baby?" She brushes the hair out of your eyes, tucking them behind your ear, "Do you feel okay? Don't cry, baby. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." It made her a little flustered to see you in this much tears- just from the sheer intensity of the pleasure. You weren't hurt, but she was scared that she hurt you. "'m- I'm okay, we've just never went this hard before. I didn't expect myself to cry. Don't be sor-"

She smiles, caressing your face, "You took me so well, baby. So well. I love you."

You gave her a giddy smile as she hugs you tighter, letting you rest your head on her chest, "I love you, too."

"I love you more, sweetheart. You're alright, I got you. Just close your eyes and rest. I'll clean you up while you do, alright?" She whispers, kissing the top of your head.

You nodded, "Jos?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Do you feel better?" You ask, your breathing hitches unexpectedly.

"Sure do, baby." She confirms, licking her lips, "Thank you."

#auli’i cravalho #i don't play track answers #the power #the power amazon prime #jos cleary-lopez #reader insert #x reader #female reader #lgbtqia #queer fiction #wlw smut #wlw ns/fw

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sparkles-rule-4eva · 2 years ago

Text

(no I'm not waiting for the real morning-)

HAPPY WHOLESOME SONIC AND TAILS WEDNESDAY!!!!!

@skimmingmilk got me curious about AoStH so I started watching it, and yes Sonic & Tails in it are ADORABLE 🥹

I also loved the little "Sonic Sez/Says" at the end of every episode, and seeing Sonic correct Tails' faulty 4-year-old spelling gave me an idea so I drew it and then wrote a fic to go with it.

Enjoy!!

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

"Tails, that's not how you spell 'telephone.' It's 'p-h-o-n-e,' not 'f-o-n-e.'"

5-year-old Tails stared at his older brother in bewilderment as Sonic took the pencil from him and wrote out the proper spelling beside Tails' attempt. "What? That doesn't make sense."

"Nothing in English makes sense," Sonic replied without missing a beat, his eyes still fixed on the paper as he set the pencil down. "But it somehow works. I figure it's better not to question it."

Tails frowned at the words on the paper. Sonic's handwriting wasn't neat, but it was more legible than Tails' big, spaced-out letters.

"Sonic?"

"Yep?"

"Did you ever go to school?"

Sonic shifted his gaze to meet his little brother's. "For a little bit, yeah," he answered, turning to wander back over to the tree stump he'd been sitting on before Tails had asked him to read the list of words he'd written out.

"Is that where you learned to read and write?"

"That was the start." Sonic flashed him a little smirk. "I figured the rest out myself."

Tails blinked. "How?"

"I dunno how to explain it," his brother protested, waving his arms a little. "I said words. I saw words. I put two and two together. And now I can do it."

The fox glanced back at the paper, comparing his writing to Sonic's. "So how come 'p' sounds one way, and 'h' sounds another way, but when you put them together they sound like 'f'? Why don't people just use the letter that already does that sound?"

Sonic groaned and leaned backwards over the tree stump, sounding frustrated. "I dunno what to tell ya, kid. I didn't invent these stupid spelling rules."

Tails sighed. With all the amazing things he'd seen Sonic do, between destroying robots and beating a middle-aged mad genius over and over again, he kept having to remind himself that his older brother didn't know everything. Sonic was . . . 13. That seemed so much older to him, but . . . he supposed that wasn't that old, compared to how long Mobians normally lived.

Still lying backwards over the tree stump, Sonic stretched his arm up and held out his hand against the sky, like he was trying to touch the clouds. "'Kay, kiddo, pop quiz. Let's see how stupid English really is. What's the plural of goose?"

"That's easy. Geese."

Sonic turned his head away a little, but failed to hide a mischievous smile. "Good. What's the plural of moose?"

Tails hesitated. He hadn't actually thought of that before, and this felt like a trap.

". . . Meese?"

Sonic snickered. "Nope. It's just 'moose.'"

There was a moment of silence, then an exclaimed "What?!" from Tails. Sonic immediately rolled over and started laughing.

"I told you English is stupid!"

The little fox started grumbling quietly to himself, something about wishing he'd been alive when English had been invented, then buried his face into one of his tails and let out a muffled scream of frustration.

"Hey, hey, take a chill pill, lil bro." Sonic sat up and faced him, still grinning. "It's not a big deal. You'll figure this out."

"I can see it all perfect in my head," Tails complained, lifting his head a little. "Why can't I just make what's in my head be on paper and be real?"

Sonic gave him finger guns. "That'd be an awesome invention. Do it."

Tails shot him a look, but his brother continued to smile back unwaveringly.

He took a deep breath, risking another critical glance at the words on the paper. "You know what, you're right. I'll figure it out. Can I just take a break?"

"Sounds good to me!" Sonic flipped to his feet (because why would he get up the normal way?) and strolled over to him. "I coulda sworn I saw a chili dog stand in the last town we ran through. Let's go grab a few."

"I'm sure I would've noticed that. You were probably hallucinating." Tails jumped up and hovered in the air, ready for Sonic to take off at his trademark speed. "Do we even have enough rings for that?"

"Of course we do." Sonic blasted off running back down the highway, and Tails followed close behind.

"I thought you spent almost half of them on a picture frame at the other place."

"Please, that was just a hundred."

"Why do we even need a frame? It's not like we have a camera."

"Maybe I'll buy one of those next. Sentiments, Tails, sentiments."

"Since when were you a sentimental guy?"

"Shut up, Tails."

BONUS: the drawing I made of this (before writing it and remembering they were homeless and outside 🤣)

Also, both this and last week's fic are now posted on Wattpad! I'll leave the link to it here :) more fics and art to come!

#happy wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #art #miles tails prower #sonic and tails #theyre brothers your honor #sonic and tails fic #fic #sonic and tails are brothers #unbreakable bond #aosth #adventures of sonic the hedgehog #sonic teaches tails to spell #btw the Sonic Says lessons are actually super good #i missed slapstick honestly lol #but no tails and sonic are precious 🥹🥹#it's 1 am #I've waited five days for this I'm not waiting till the real morning to post this #sonic and tails Wednesday #wholesome fluff #brothers fluff #the rings part was inspired by my own playing of Sonic Unleashed and spending 50 rings on a picture frame #idk maybe I'm just new to using rings as currency but it seemed weirdly expensive #anyway i think this is my favorite holiday #sibling things #sibling banter

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cannedcrow · 5 months ago

Text

Arbitrary Darkness (HC Monster Hunter AU) Part VII

A/N ~ Hiya all! Been working on this chapter for a little while. I do about a thousand edits of each draft. Anyway, here's some vaguely spicy content and Scott being an asshole for you :D

~ reblog if ya enjoy! <3 ~

Part VI - AO3

Grian and Mumbo sat in a booth in the Hermiton Arms waiting for Pearl, whom Mumbo had been so good as to introduce only by name. Grian had initially been surprised when they passed by The Foxhole, the little pub he and Mumbo usually frequented, but Mumbo insisted that it was in bad taste to bring a work friend to such a scrappy place. Grian was of the mind that the Hermiton Arms was far too posh - more of a cocktail lounge than their usual pub-quiz-live-music-house-beer haunt, but acquiesced to the change of scenery without too much whining.

“Shall we wait for Pearl or get a drink?” Mumbo asked, evidently rather lost in the etiquette of it all.

“Suit yourself, but as third wheel I’m going to get a drink,” Grian replied rather petulantly.

Mumbo rolled his eyes and sat back as Grian made his way to the bar. It was quite full, though the patrons here had a more delicate, quiet manner to them than those of The Foxhole. Shame, really. Grian always rather enjoyed watching a good bar tussle. Dark mahogany paneled the walls and furniture, dimly lit by oil lamps and candles. Cigarette smoke curled lazily in the air with dim chatter. Very posh indeed - though perhaps a little too reminiscent of the Eighth Circle.

He became aware that the bartender had asked what he wanted - “Er, Negroni please,”

The bartender nodded and moved into swift, practiced action.

“Negroni, eh? You didn’t strike me as the type.”

The voice was lightly teasing, and Grian turned to see a woman leaning on the bar next to him, touselled chestnut hair curling around her smiling face. She wore a simple open shirt and skirt and watched him with inviting grey-blue eyes, ink stained fingertips tapping distractedly on the counter. Undoubtedly very pretty.

“That’s your opener at the bar? Insulting people’s drink choice?” Grian replied amusedly.

“Well, I don’t really see the point of empty flattery. You can make a lotta assumptions about people based on their drink choice.”

She spoke in a soft Australian accent. The type of voice and temperament that invites friendship openly, and Grian appreciated it.

Grian raised an eyebrow. “Right. And what does a Negroni say about me?”

“Usually signifies a manly type with a touch of class. Less brusque than an old fashioned, less girly than a whisky sour, only a tiny bit pretentious.”

The bartender presented his drink just then.

“So, you think I’m manly huh?” Grian replied teasingly, “I’ll take it, but unfortunately for you it just means I like marmalade,” Grian retorted smoothly, sipping his drink. It was a good Negroni.

“Marmalade?” She laughed, “You’re off your rocker! Anyway, I did say you didn’t look like the type didn’t I?”

“I’ll have you know I’ve manned with the manliest of men,” Grian replied with mock grandiosity.

Pearl laughed again, “Not gonna touch that one.”

“So, can I buy you a manly drink with a touch of class?”

“Never. If you’re buying though …” she tipped her head thoughtfully, “French 75.”

“Girly drink,” Grian muttered slyly as the bartender went off again.

Before Pearl had a chance to reply, Mumbo appeared.

“Thought you’d gotten lost mate! See you’ve found Pearl though,”

Grian coughed on his drink rather indelicately. “I - what?”

Pearl blushed faintly, giving Mumbo a little wave, “We hadn’t got to names yet actually,” she laughed, “You’re Grian then eh? I shoulda known!”

Grian sighed with a slightly embarrassed smile, offering his hand. “Yep, monster hunter extraordinaire. Told you, manliest of men.”

The bartender appeared again with Pearl’s drink.

“5 diamonds for them two then,” he grinned.

Grian paid with a quick, “Cheers mate.”

“What, I don’t get a free drink?” Mumbo mocked.

“Shut it,” Grian growled.

They stayed at the bar while Mumbo ordered and returned as a trio to their table, settling down in the plush seats.

“It is nice here Mumbo, I’ll give you that,” Grian conceded.

“Right? Papa K took me here once, early on. Thought I was about to get fired, turns out it was a promotion!”

“Naw, he’s a softie,” Pearl said, “I reckon he’d let anyone stay on if he liked chatting to em. Hard to be intimidated by a guy who calls you ‘sweet-face’.”

“I’ll have you know I can be intimidated by anyone,” Mumbo replied sternly.

“That’s a point on your resume, is it?”

“Right between ‘am nice’ and ‘write good’.”

Grian snorted. “So, what’s the story you two are working on? With creds like that, I mean.”

“All business eh? That’s a change,” Pearl winked at him and he felt his cheeks warm slightly as he grinned sheepishly.

“Article on the dead guy they found in Hogshyde Park,"

"What happened to him?" Grian asked warily.

"Not sure really," Pearl replied, "We've been looking into it - funny thing is, cops don't think it was a monster - not that they have much idea - but usually the body would be a bit more ripped up, half-eaten, you know?"

"We saw the body," Mumbo added, "looks like a drug overdose if anything. Maybe he had a weird reaction or something, because it doesn't really look like the usual. His veins were almost black, and the mortician who autopsied him said his blood had basically turned to ash.”

Grian made a face. “Ew.”

“Right?” Pearl looked rather delighted by the whole thing. “We’re planning on doing a little poking around, see if anyone has any useful details. Could make for a proper interesting story.”

“Ought to ask some of the more unsavory group that hangs around there,” Mumbo pondered.

“You reckon they’ll talk to us?”

Grian zoned out of the conversation as it started involving a litany of names he didn’t know, entertaining himself by examining the other bar patrons vaguely. His gaze was drawn suddenly to a man with unmistakable aquamarine hair, a pale, sharp face he’d hoped not to see again.

It had to be him though. Scott sat at the end of the bar, in smiling conversation with a girl whose back was to Grian. He was dressed differently tonight - an elegant, tailed waistcoat of navy blue, draped over a pale shirt that lay open, lazily revealing a v of pale chest.

What the hell is he doing here? Who is that? Perhaps she was a monster of some sort too, but Grian had a nasty suspicion she wasn’t. As he watched, Scott slid a suggestive hand along her thigh. He didn’t like the look of it one bit. Temptation to intervene crept under his skin, but … it was too much of a risk to make a scene. He’d keep an eye on him, hopefully not be noticed. If -

“Grian?”

Mumbo’s voice took his gaze back - it seemed he’d missed a cue.

“Sorry, what?”

“Trying to find someone to go home with tonight?” Mumbo teased.

“Hardly,” Grian retorted. Not that I'd be opposed ... if he weren't a bloodthirsty murderer. That drink was definitely hitting.

Mumbo laughed, “Pearl asked if you knew any monster with venom that'd do that."

Grian thought carefully, shaking his head slowly. "No, doesn't ring a bell. Wonder if it’s a hybrid or infection we don’t know about.”

He wondered silently to himself if he ought to ask Joel. He’d know more than anyone about the shady underbelly of the city, but somehow he didn’t think Joel would want to help him with anything.

“I reckon I could ask about, see if I can glean any useful info,” Grian ventured.

“That’d be great. Shame about Tango, really. He’d have had some insight I bet.”

“Tango?” Pearl asked.

Mumbo met Grian’s stern gaze. “Ex-business partner of Grian’s.”

“I wouldn’t worry," Grian sighed heavily, "He wouldn’t have told me anything. We weren’t exactly confidants.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Grian saw Scott stand, offering an inviting hand to his companion. The two began to make their way towards the door, and Grian made a split decision, downing the rest of his drink.

“Going for another drink,” he muttered, pushing up from the table to follow.

The night air was cool and fresh, in stark contrast to the warm, smoky air of the Hermiton Arms. He lit a cigarette as he leant on the doorway, taking a long drag and letting his quarry get a fair distance in front of him before following quietly.

They walked along the canal, brightly lit by lanterns and dotted with cafes and bars, patrons enjoying the evening air and chatting. Their quiet conversation was too muted for Grian to hear, skulking along a good 20 feet behind. He couldn't help but feel like the monster in this situation, stalking after them in the shadows like a cat. They walked for about five minutes, reaching a slightly darker, quieter part of the road, and the pair sat on the canal's edge. The moonlight glinted silver on the water, soft chatter wended its way down the breeze, and a nightingale was singing softly somewhere.

Quite the romantic, aren’t you?

He watched, fairly close behind them but enveloped in the shadow of the buildings, as they talked and laughed like any other young couple. Before long though, Scott cast a surreptitious glance around, evidently missing Grian in the shadowed doorway. He returned his attention to the girl, tenderly brushing her hair aside, and she looked up and him with a smile as he bent his head to meet his lips with hers, traveling a hand down her back to brace securely on her waist.

Grian predicted the next 30 seconds quickly and made his decision, taking another deep drag before stepping out.

“Ma’am?”

He made as though he’d just reached them, and she looked up, blushing furiously.

“Sorry to interrupt,” He started casually, tapping ash from his cigarette, “only I work at the Hermiton Arms - a bartender said you left your wallet at the bar.”

Please don’t tell me he bought all your drinks. And please don’t check.

Thankfully, it appeared she was too flustered (and tipsy, probably) to give it much thought, and she stood quickly.

“Did I? I’m sorry! Thanks for letting me know.”

Scott watched the encounter intently, standing, and Grian turned his back on him.

Stay away from him. Trust me, he mouthed to her inconspicuously.

It appeared she’d succumbed to his illusion of authority, and her face went from quizzical to a look of horror that glanced her face only briefly, and she nodded imperceptibly.

Thank you, Grian thought.

“I’d better be off then, I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly to Scott.

“No worries,” he replied in that melodious, easy tone, “I expect I rather distracted you.”

She blushed again, turning to walk down the street in the direction of the Hermiton Arms, glancing back nervously.

Now I’m the one alone with the psycho monster. Just what I wanted.

“The benevolent hero steps in again,” Scott commented idly, strolling towards Grian, who stepped back towards the building walls behind them, “Surely even monsters have a right to a quiet date. If you wanted a three-way, you only had to ask.”

“I think we both know that’s not what you had in mind,” Grian replied sharply, “and I prefer my threeways not to end with two of us being ripped apart at the bottom of a canal.”

Scott shrugged, seemingly unperturbed by Grian spoiling his plans, “don’t knock it til you try it.”

“I don’t think I will, thanks,” Grian replied cuttingly, “Don’t insult my intelligence by trying this game with me.”

A smile played on Scott’s pale face, and he moved directly in front of Grian, leaning one forearm against the bricks and caging Grian slightly. In these quarters, Grian could smell the floral gin on his breath, the slight scent of freshwater.

"Don't you like me?" He murmured, brushing a thumb along Grian's cheek and travelling his fingertips salaciously down his neck and chest. Grian's breath hitched unwittingly, and he was annoyed at the way his heart quickened. That damned drink.

He squirmed out of the contact, scowling. "I don't think you need me to tell you what I think of you."

The moonlight glittered on Scott's cyan hair in an ethereal way as he gazed down at Grian piercingly from beneath spiked lashes, smiling slightly. God, he was beautiful. No human could look like that. He was consoled only by the hand resting on the handle of his knife, concealed behind him in his waistband. With the other, he calmly continued with his cigarette.

“You know,” Scott breathed conspiratorially in his ear, “You could always join in on the ripping apart bit of my nights out.”

Grian scowled and shoved him away, hard, burning him with the cigarette end. Scott stumbled slightly and didn’t approach again, only cocking his head and surveying Grian sardonically.

“Thanks for the invite,“ Grian spat, “But keep your bloodthirsty exploits to yourself. I'll be there as much as I can to spoil your night."

"You really haven't got it yet," Scott mused gently, "We're on the same side. If you keep forcing yourself to be this ... farce, you'll only become an obscenity to all sides."

Grian bristled, striding towards Scott menacingly. "How many times do I have to say," he snarled, "I'm not like you. I've never -- I'd die before becoming anything like you."

He hated how the words stuck in his throat. Even here, even now, his tongue betrayed him.

“Why don’t you kill me then?” Scott asked sweetly, not waiting for a reply, “Oh, right, I remember.”

With that last jab, he turned, strolling away as though they’d just said a heartfelt goodbye, and called over his shoulder, “there’ll always be more bloodthirsty exploits if you want to have some fun!”

Grian watched Scott's graceful silhouette recede, hand curled into a fist around his knife handle. He threw his cigarette end to the ground, spinning around to return to the bar.

"Get lost?" Mumbo asked cheerfully when he returned, frowning when he saw Grian's face, "What happened?"

"Doesn't matter," Grian sighed, "I'm gonna get that drink I promised myself. Want anything?"

"Round of Montenegro?" Mumbo suggested, looking to Pearl.

"Go on then," She acquiesced cheerfully.

Grian grinned and navigated his way through the crowd to the bar, leaning his back to the wood after ordering.

The scene and his position reminded me of his night at The Eighth Circle. The last time he'd been in a place like this, he'd been offered a concoction of blood and liquor.

Can't they just drink a Manhattan like the rest of us?

...Us. The word was steadily becoming more uncomfortable for him. He hated letting them affect his mentality in this way. Blessedly, the bartender arrived then.

"A vodka, neat, too. Thanks."

The bartender acquiesced as he paid and threw back the shot, giving his head a slight shake. Enough of all that, let's have a normal night.

When he brought the tray of drinks back, Mumbo and Pearl gave a little cheer.

"Man, no one's ever that excited to see me unless I have a tray of alcohol," Grian grinned.

"Well, you're a bit broody. Puts people off I reckon," Mumbo contributed helpfully, taking his glass of Montenegro delicately.

"Thanks, I can always count on you to ease my sorrows."

"You're welcome. Cheers then, to friendship and drinks and business. And all three at once."

"You're a natural wordsmith," Pearl laughed, raising her glass to clink it to the others as they drank.

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