#soft mary goore

[greenbirdtrash]

Me: *dusting off my vinyl record player almost every day*

Meanwhile 20 years old dust ball behind the washing machine:

[preqvelle]

Repugnant crumbs, or should I say crytid crumbs

[da-rulah]

The Mayor's Daughter - Mary Goore x f!Reader [Part 5]

Summary: It's the morning after the night before, and there are still things left unsaid. You find yourself asking where you go from here and quickly realise, you're both going to need to work on this a little more. Whatever 'this' is...

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 13.6k (lol I did it again...)

Warnings: Angst, more family trauma, emotional discussions, smut, cunnilingus, body worship, emotional sex, unprotected sex (birth control)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3 | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

A/N: Apologies for the delay - I ended up pretty sick for like 2 weeks after I posted part 4... still, thank you for coming back. I missed ya! Thank you again to @angellayercake & @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading 🖤

You felt like you were floating... Drifting as you walked the thin line between consciousness, aware that you were beginning to rouse from a sleep that you had so desperately needed. That floating feeling; you felt so weightless, like bobbing slowly through a place where gravity hardly existed. As you began to stir, your eyes fluttering open, you became aware that that feeling was actually the sensation of your head slowly rising and falling rhythmically, as if buoyant on a gentle ocean. 

Except, the surface of the ocean felt warm, solid. It took a few moments, but as you came to you realised – it was Mary’s chest beneath you, his soft, gentle breathing lulling you in the same way it had last night as you’d fallen asleep in this exact position. In your sleep, neither one of you had moved – a sure fire sign that you had both been so exhausted and so comfortable with one another, that you could let down your guards, and drift into a deeply restorative sleep. 

When your eyes finally fluttered open, you allowed yourself a glance around his humble little apartment; sunlight streamed in through his windows, narrowly missing the bed but highlighting the specks that floated in the air like glitter with a mind of its own. A pattern on the ceiling at the end of the bed caught your attention; little reflections of light hitting the plaster. Sunlight had hit your dress, still folded neatly atop Mary’s dresser, and the light refracted up to the ceiling from each and every little sequin and rhinestone.  

No longer wanting to look at the offensively bright material nor think of the memories attached to it, you turned your head in search of something far more comforting to look to; Mary.  

Still fast asleep, his pretty long lashes fluttered every so often as he dreamt, his features so relaxed and at peace you were terrified to disturb him. Even in his relaxation, his arms were wrapped around you snugly as they were last night after the two of you had shared possibly the most important kiss you had ever had. 

You wondered, then, if that kiss had meant as much to him as it had to you – if he’d felt, in that moment, what you had felt... For you, there was no longer any denying it. This man – this strange, dark, twisted little sweetheart of a man – had become incredibly important to you, to say the least. He was the one you called in a crisis, he was the first and only person you wanted when the world burned around you.  

And despite his anger at you, feeling like he’d never wanted to see you again, he’d come running immediately. 

You couldn’t help but watch him as your mind began working, thinking of all the reasons you liked having Mary around. For one, he was unapologetically himself; something you had always strived to be. Two, he had never once made you feel unsafe or looked at you like a piece of meat – even that night at the dive bar... He had a respect for you that men usually were void of. Three, he made you feel more beautiful and more desired every time you’d seen him than anybody ever had. Four, there was a softness he was allowing you to see, slowly peeling back the curtain you knew he kept drawn to others. And five – probably the most important to you right now – he came when you called. 

Guilt still stabbed at your chest while you lay there thinking of how this guy had showed up for you unlike anyone else. Maybe Mary had judged you, put you in the princess box like everybody else but at least he had still wanted you. Despite that, he wouldn’t have been afraid to walk hand in hand through the town centre with you, to be seen with you, to show people there was something between you. What you had done was arguably far, far worse.  

Not only had you stereotyped him – that would have left you on par, on a level playing field, at least – you had decided that your stereotype of him was that of a person you could never be seen with, that you would hide away in secret out of shame.  

Given that your father had cast you aside as quickly and easily as a candy wrapper, you wondered what you were doing that for now. ‘Daddy’s image’ had been so important to you, but why? If he was so willing to throw you out of his town rather than see you happily doing something for yourself, then why on earth did you still give any kind of shit about him? You’d sacrificed so much of yourself over the years for your father, to the point where you really didn’t know who you were beneath the facade. He’d turned you into a little version of himself, shallow enough that you had treated perhaps the only authentic person you had ever had the pleasure to meet like shit.  

No more.  

“You’re a fuckin’ creep, doll,” Mary rumbled beneath you, his chest vibrating against your cheek and startling a jump out of you. You’d thought he was asleep; he certainly looked like it, his eyes still shut, and his body still comfortably limp beneath you. You stared at him for a moment, wondering if you’d imagined it, or maybe he’d spoken in his sleep... At least, until his lips quirking up into a smug little smirk. 

“Sorry, I was just... thinking,” you mumbled, suddenly shy as you settled your head against his chest again.  

“About...?” he encouraged, the smugness in his tone completely vanishing. He sounded more concerned, with just a touch of insecurity. You turned your head back to face him, your chin now settled on his chest instead of your cheek. He was looking down at you with both eyes this time, waiting patiently for you tell him the worst case scenario; that coming here had been a mistake and you didn’t want to be around him anymore. That’s what he expected, anyway. 

“Just...” You didn’t want to ruin the moment, to bombard him with heavy thoughts first thing in the morning... “how pretty you are,” you smiled, masking the guilt and hurt you’d conjured up. Mary just smiled a goofy, ridiculous smile. His arms tightened around you, and suddenly he was rolling you from your side onto your back, the cold, neglected half of the mattress shocking you further awake as Mary’s weight pressed into you. He lay on his elbow above your head, his other hand still wrapped around your waist. 

“Tell me more,” he teased, smirking down at you. You giggled – Mary's favourite fucking sound on the planet – and pulled the blankets up a little further, a knee jerk reaction to the sudden cold of the mattress beneath you.  

“Well, I couldn’t possibly contribute to that ego of yours, Goore,” you objected, prodding a finger to his chest just below his collar bone.  

“Hmm,” he hummed, his gaze flickering across your face as he took in your smile. He noted how genuine it looked, how content you seemed to lay in his bed, wrapped up in him. His chest swelled with warmth, the desire to kiss you as he had last night overwhelming him.  

But he wouldn’t. Neither of you had really talked about what had happened between you before you’d drifted to sleep in his arms, but it had been one of the many things that crossed his mind as he struggled with his memories into the early hours.  

Just as you caught Mary gazing back down at your lips, thinking maybe he might kiss you again, longing for it... He met your eyes again, with a hint of anxiety. 

“I suppose that... two mature adults would probably talk about everything that happened last night?” he asked tentatively. He was right, they probably would.  

“Probably...” you agreed, looking down towards where your hands were fiddling with the edge of the blankets. A wave of nausea passed over you, dull fear settling in the pit of your stomach. Mary sensed your change in demeanour, immediately regretting bringing it up. He switched back to his mask immediately, putting that wall back up and fighting the feeling with comedy.  

“Good job we ain’t all that mature then, huh?” he laughed, eyes lingering on the frayed edges of the sleeves of his shirt you wore. The two of you were so hopelessly inexperienced at dealing with emotions, let alone talking about them with anybody. But after where your mind had drifted to that morning as you’d watched him sleep, you knew you had to say the things you’d missed last night. He needed to know how much you regretted treating him like that.  

“I do want to apologise to you though, Mary...” Mary’s eyes snapped to look at you then, brow furrowing in confusion. But you persisted; you hoped he’d hear you out. “I was a bitch to you.” 

“Nah, you’re fine, doll...” he began, but you cut him off gently, pressing your fingertips to his lips.  

“Please, hear me out...” you asked him. When he saw the look in your eyes, the regret on your face, he nodded against your fingertips, willing you to continue. “I know you judged me, and I don’t blame you for that at all. I was putting the act on a little too well. But I judged you too, and then I did something worse... I let my world get in my head, and I locked you out of it because you didn’t ‘fit’ in it,” you made air quotes with your hands, awkwardly wringing your fingers while you spoke, not daring to look in his eyes.  

“I’ve let my dad run my life for too long, and he got in my head. He made me feel like I should be ashamed to be around someone like you; or, y’know... the ‘you’ people think you are. I just...” You looked up at him then, his expression unreadable, but you looked him in the eye as you continued, “That’s bullshit, Mare. I don’t want that life. I don’t want people telling me I can’t be seen with someone because they don’t suit my ‘lifestyle’. I want to form my own opinions, my own relationships and... I don’t want to shut out the good people.” 

You raised your palm to his cheek, desperately hoping that he knew what you meant; that he was good people. You didn’t want to shut him out anymore.  

The arm that was wound around your waist lifted, his hand wrapping around your wrist gently as he stroked his thumb over the back of your hand.  

“I’m not wasting another second living for that man anymore,” you whimpered, your waterline blurring your vision where tears gathered. “I’m so sorry for how I treated you, Mary.”  

Mary’s features softened, his head turning in your hand to press a light kiss to your palm where he held it still. Those words meant more to him than you’d possibly know, a tension releasing from his shoulders he hadn’t known he had built up.  

“It’s okay,” he mumbled against your palm between pecks, “I’m sorry for missing the signs of control. I shoulda seen it, and I missed it. Or just ignored it, I don’t know, but... I’m sorry too.” 

Silence settled, a comfortable moment to soak in the apologies you’d owed to each other, to settle any possible lingering bad feeling. It was Mary who broke the silence with a small laugh and a shake of his head above you, hair flopping into his face. 

“It’s not like I can stay mad at you for long anyway, doll. Believe me, I tried,” he said, biting his lip cheekily as he smiled down at you.  

“Oh yeah? You just couldn’t ignore the cries of a damsel in distress,” you joked back, expecting Mary to laugh and come back with another quick-witted quip. Except... his face faltered, his smile dropping in a flash. Instantly, you knew you’d said something wrong. Why it had been wrong, you weren’t sure, but you jumped into damage control. “B-but, um... you know, just meant to say thank you... you didn’t have to do that-” 

“Yeah, I did,” he interrupted, his tone serious. “I’d never just walk away if you needed me...”  

Another silence settled as his words lay heavy on your mind. You believed him, wholeheartedly. There was no glimmer of uncertainty or comedy in his expression at all – Mary meant it. He’d never turn his back on you if you needed him. But the way his face had dropped... A flicker of sadness you hadn’t missed... You raised your hand back to his cheek, cradling his jaw as your thumb swiped gently against the stubble that was starting to rise.  

“No one ever came to save you... did they?” you asked him, hesitantly. The way his jaw clenched, the tendons in his neck tightening only confirmed your suspicions. You could feel the tightness where you held his jaw, and all you could do was continue to stroke your thumb over the skin, trying to soothe him.  

“I’d like to try,” you told him, sincerely. Oh god, you wanted to try. You’d do anything you could to save him, if he’d let you. From what, you weren’t sure, but you’d fight tooth and nail for him.  

Mary didn’t know what to say. You’d hit the nail on the head, seen him for what he truly was, and it scared him. It scared him so much, to be that transparent to you. His heart hammered inside his chest and before he knew it, he’d lurched forwards to press his lips to yours in place of words.  

He held you so gently as he kissed you, careful not to come on too strong with him laying above you but he took note of how you held him too, how you easily melted into his kiss and allowed him his vulnerability. Just as it had last night, this kiss led nowhere in particular and served only the purpose of affirming your connection; whatever that connection was at this stage.  

As you drew yourselves apart, Mary avoided your gaze and instead found himself fiddling with your hair that lay against the pillow as if suddenly very interested in your split ends. He wasn’t one to ever verbalise how he felt, never spoke up about his emotions either positive or negative. Instead, he felt awkward, like anything he’d say right now might ruin the moment in some way. He didn’t trust himself to speak, but he knew he had to say something and so he thought carefully as he played with your hair, still hovering above you with an arm wrapped around your waist.  

“I don’t know where we go from here,” he admitted honestly. “I... I don’t know what this is.” 

You understood his predicament – you weren’t sure what this was either. You weren’t someone who’d had any kind of relationship or felt this way about another person before, and you weren’t sure if Mary ever had either – of all the times you’d noticed Mary before your first night at the bar together, you’d never seen him with the same girl twice.  

“I don’t know either, Mary. But... I just know that it’s something,” you told him, “something I’m willing to fight to protect, if that’s what you want.” 

Mary’s lips curved into a smile, and without his usual face paints there was no hiding the slight hue of pink that tinted his cheeks as he looked away with a shyness you found incredibly cute on him.  

“You gonna fight for me, doll?” he asked, a cheeky smirk returning as he looked back down at you beneath him. 

“With my bare fucking hands, if I have to,” you grinned.  

“That’s my girl...” he winked, lowering himself to press another kiss to your lips, giving you no time at all to dwell on what he’d just said other than to have those two words swimming around your head on a loop as he spoilt you with the kind of kisses he felt you deserved; slow, impassioned, with feeling.  

“My girl.” Mary’s girl. His girl.  

His. 

“Try these,” Mary offered his hand to you that clasped a pair of black skinny jeans. “They’re women’s cut anyway.” 

“That can’t be comfy...” you laughed, taking the jeans from him and holding the waistband up to your own hips, surprised to find they might actually fit.  

“Wrong. They’re tighter, yes, but weirdly fit better. Give ‘em a go, and I got this tee you can wear too for now, maybe some boxers that are too small for me...” he rifled through his drawers, pulling out garments that would do just for today as you stood by the edge of his bed in the pyjamas and old shirt he’d given you last night. He turned to you with the aforementioned clothes in his arms, handing them to you.  

“You know where everything is if you wanna shower, but you gotta let the water run for like 5 minutes before you get in. Unless you like being pelted by icicles first thing in the morning,” he shrugged.  

“I do not,” you laughed. “But a shower sounds good.” Mary nodded, rubbing his hand up and down his arm as he stood awkwardly across from you, still shirtless with his shorts hanging dangerously low on his hips. You pretended you hadn’t noticed... 

“So, uh... What do you think you’re gonna do?” he asked, “I mean, you can stay here as long as you want, but-” 

“I should get some stuff from my place, yeah. My dad will be at the office all day, I could always sneak in my bedroom window. I doubt my mother would notice...” you shrugged. “Are you sure you don’t mind me crashing here?” you asked, biting at your lip. You didn’t want to impose, but truthfully you had nowhere else to go and you certainly weren’t crawling back into that house with a fake apology and diving headfirst back into that life. Not now. This was too far gone... 

“’course not, doll. Never read a fairytale where the knight sends the princess back to the dragon...” he smirked, folding his arms across his chest.  

“You can read?” you teased, earning you a playfully indignant scoff. 

“Don’t push it, doll...” He stepped towards you then, tilting your chin up with his finger curled underneath it. His eyes darkened and his voice dropped to a menacing pitch, “How can you be so sure I’m not the bad guy?”  

That shouldn’t have done something to you. But with your arms full of a bundle of clean clothes there was no hiding the blush on your cheeks, nor the way you gulped or shifted your weight from one foot to another. And Mary was observant. He raised his head proudly, taking a step back as he booped you on the nose like a good little puppy dog and chuckled to himself. 

“Go on, go shower. We’ll swing by yours and then maybe we can grab some food. I’ve got nothing in, so...” he shrugged, turning back to his dresser to pull out some clothes for himself.  

“What, like... a date?” you asked, maybe sounding a little too hopeful. Mary looked up from his drawer and squinted his eyes at you in mock suspicion. 

“You tryna get in my pants, doll?” he taunted. You rolled your eyes, kicking your bare foot against his shin.  

“No, I just... Never mind, probably not your style or something,” you shook your head, regretting mentioning a date at all. 

“Hey, I’m great at dates,” he defended, “Just don’t do ‘em very often. And I mean, I don’t think I can live up to the dates you’ve been on with the kind of guys in your circle. Don’t exactly have the cash for a fancy dinner or a helicopter ride over the city or whatever.” He waved his hand in your direction, pretending to be overly interested in rummaging through his drawer. 

You scoffed at that, shaking your head. Of course he’d jump to that conclusion, assuming your experience of dating had been like a scene out of The Bachelorette. He was stereotyping again, in an attempt to defend himself. There was a pattern here, you were noticing... Mary was a very defensive guy. But if he’d bothered to ask, maybe he’d be shocked to learn none of the guys you had ‘dated’ had ever taken you on any kind of date. Dinner at your place to be scouted by your father as being good enough for his image was not a date. 

“You’re doing it again,” you told him bluntly. Maybe he didn’t even realise he was.  

“What?” he snapped, dropping the pair of jeans in his hands back into the drawer in a move that showed he was irritated. Now it was your turn to get defensive.  

“Stereotyping me. Maybe it’d shock you to know I’ve never actually been on any kind of date,” you griped. Mary hollowed his cheeks, swallowing his pride when you called him out. You were right, and he knew you were right. He looked over at you from the corner of his eye, unable to hold eye contact as guilt burrowed its way into his chest.  

“I just thought-” he tried to make his excuses, but you were tired of hearing them. 

“Well, you thought wrong,” you snapped, heading towards the door to his bathroom.  

“Wait, doll...” he called after you, frustrated with himself and how quickly he’d managed to turn what had been an almost sweet morning with you into pissing you off.  

“Forget it, Mare,” you called back without looking, shutting the door behind you and dumping the pile of clothes in your arms to the counter in front of you. You didn’t want to fight; not with him. You’d had enough of that and while he had pissed you off, part of you knew that maybe you’d started that... ‘Not your style’, what had you even meant by that?  

Clearly, the two of you still had some clichés and stereotypes to iron out of your heads. It was easier said than done, when both of you had only ever known the world to be as it was in your bubbles. You only had your previous experience to go off, blindly following what you’d been told and staying in your own lanes. This relationship – or whatever it was – would take some work, and there were still wounds that couldn’t be healed overnight, cracks that a bit of dry wall stuck over them wouldn’t fix. Maybe you’d have to tear it down to its foundations, and rebuild instead. 

Outside the bathroom, Mary was thinking much the same thing. You were right to call him out, and he muttered a “you fucking idiot” to himself when you’d shut the door on him. Instead of getting defensive, he should have had the compassion and understanding to know you weren’t trying to be malicious. All you’d done was ask if he was suggesting a date, and his walls went right back up again. 

‘What are you protecting yourself from now, idiot?’ he thought to himself. ‘If you like her, you gotta let her in.’  

You’d told him you’d fight with your bare hands for him. Was he willing to do the same for you?  

‘Yes’ he thought, ‘teeth bared, and claws sharpened.’ 

The plan was simple – mostly because the air had been too awkwardly stale between the two of you to stomach a better, well-thought-out plan than the brief outline you’d concocted in the shower followed by a brief agreement from Mary.  

Mary would drive you back to your house, park up and let you sneak back into your bedroom through your always-unlocked window while he waited for you to pack up your bag and climb back out again. No fuss, no mess, no interactions.  

The drive was mostly silent, save for the music settled between a low and medium volume from Mary’s usual radio station. You didn’t mind it, the heavy mashing of guitars and drums mixed with barely intelligible screams and growls. Perhaps you were even growing to like it, for all the time you’d spent in Mary’s van. You could find rhythm to tap your foot along to, and lord knows you often felt like screaming like this too – except, you would have to into a pretty pink and frilly pillow.  

“I’ll wait here, no rush,” Mary told you as he parked a little way down the street, on the opposite side of the road.  

“I won’t be hanging around, trust me,” you mumbled, nerves eating away at your sanity as you plotted your route over the wall and up the side of the garage. You’d done this plenty of times throughout your adolescence, sneaking in and out, it wasn’t new to you. Yet, the stakes seemed higher today.  

Quickly, you rushed out of the van and across the street to avoid being seen by neighbours. Your father’s car wasn’t in the driveway when you climbed over the wall; a sure-fire sign that he was at the office today ruining somebody else’s life. With practised ease, you climbed the side of the garage and tip-toed across the roof towards your bedroom window. Just as you’d expected, it was unlocked, and you could crawl inside without detection.  

First, you swung the backpack Mary had lent you from your shoulders, unzipping it and pulling the dress and heels from the night before from it. You folded the dress and lay it on your bed, the heels neatly placed beside it. You knew they’d find them – you wanted them to find them. This was your way of telling them you were done, you’d come home and taken your things and you were gone. There was no crawling back to them.  

From your closet, you dragged a duffel bag from the top shelf and began to fill it with your clothes and shoes – at least, the things you wanted to keep. Too many pretty little dresses that weren’t your style at all, too much pink and lace and poofy things you’d dress a china doll in. No, you focussed on the clothes you’d bought with your own money, the basic shirts and sweaters, the jeans and sweatpants, a few pairs of leggings. You had an entire section of your closet you’d never touched, tags still on the items you’d bought but didn’t have the courage to wear.  

Mostly black items, things your father would have called ‘too depressing’ or ‘not pretty enough for a girl like you’. He hated black clothing on you, preferred pinks and whites and pale colours that reflected that innocent aura he wanted to get across. So, the black dresses, the ripped jeans, the tighter black tops and oversized graphic tees never saw the light of day. Now, you were stuffing them into your duffel with every intention of wearing what you wanted.  

Next, you headed to your drawers to grab your underwear and socks, stuffing them into the bag alongside your clothes. Once empty, you pulled the drawer from the dresser until it was barely hanging on, and ran your fingertips along the bottom until you found the edge of the tape you’d stuck there years ago that held an envelope to the bottom of the drawer. You ripped it off, and stuffed that in your bag too.  

As you turned your back to your room shove a handful of jewellery into a side pocket, you heard a creak behind you, near the door. Instantly you froze, waiting for another creak, praying you were hearing things in this big and old house.  

“Oh, thank God,” you heard your mother’s voice, whining like she was holding back a sob as she brought her hands to her mouth in shock behind you. You shut your eyes and breathed out a sigh; a mix of relief and regret. You’d so hoped no one would see you, and yet, you were just so glad it wasn’t your father.  

You turned to look at her, to see her in her usual put-together wife-of-a-politician attire, clutching her pearls and suppressing a sob as her made-up eyes let tears stream slowly from them. 

“Oh, honey... I’m so glad you came home, I’ve been worried sick!” she sobbed, rushing to stand in front of you. Her hands held your shoulders, then one came to cup your cheek as she looked you over for any signs of harm. Her brows creased in concern when she saw the jeans and old AC/DC shirt you’d been given by Mary to wear today. “Where did you-”  

“I haven’t come home, Mom,” you pushed her wrists from you gently and walked around her, grabbing various beauty products from your vanity. “I’m just getting my things and I’m leaving again.”  

“Leaving? But sweetie, you can’t just leave... Your father was angry, but he’ll come around. H-he... He’s just stressed at work, you know? He loves you-” 

“Mom, please!” you snapped, turning back to her. “I don’t know what he told you happened, but he wants me out. And frankly, I’ve put up with his shit for too long. I’m tired of living in his image all the damn time like he’s some fucking messiah!”  

“Darling, please,” she pleaded, stepping towards you as she held her hands out to you as if trying to cup your face in her hands again to calm you, “that language sounds so vulgar coming from such a pretty-” 

“Stop!” you pushed her hands away, “I don’t want to be daddy’s pretty little trophy, I don’t want to be forced into this life of fake people and pageantry. He doesn’t care that I’m a grown woman with my own thoughts and feelings, he doesn’t care that I went to college to find my own career, or that I want to meet people that I find interesting or that I want to dress how I want, be who I want,” you ranted, letting it spill out. “Look around you, mom. Even my bedroom belongs to a little girl. I don’t like any of this stuff, I don’t want any of this shit! This isn’t ME!” you yelled, the anger manifesting as tears of your own as your mother stared blankly at you, taking it in.  

Silence settled, and she turned on her heels to walk over to your bed, sitting herself down on the edge beside your overflowing duffel bag. She flattened her palm to the bedspread, tracing the pattern of the pink lace.  

“I told him you never liked pink,” she chuckled sadly. “God, he insisted... Said ‘every little girl likes pink’. He really was clueless.”  

You shuffled your feet awkwardly, wiping at the tears in an attempt to remain strong.  

“You always were a headstrong little thing. I loved that about you, always thinking for yourself and making your own mind up. I remember the tantrums you had when you asked to have a go-karting party for your 10th birthday instead of a garden party,” she laughed. “I understand more than you think, you know. How your father can be.” 

“And you go along with it?” you questioned, confused. She’d never said anything like this or encouraged your freedom of thought before.  

Your mother sighed, picking at her manicured fingernails as guilt overwhelmed her.  

“I suppose I thought I was doing what was best for you, or maybe just trying to make life easier for the both of us. That doesn’t make it right, I know,” her brow furrowed, still unable to look up at you in her shame, “he’s a persuasive man. That’s politicians for you...” 

When she looked up, she smiled softly at you, her eyes once again roaming over your outfit as she let her prejudices down for a moment. Her eyes settled on the shirt, her smile growing just a little more.  

“Your grandfather liked them,” she nodded towards the shirt. “Used to play their records all the time.” You looked down at the shirt, completely unaware that your Pops had liked AC/DC. You’d heard the odd song on the radio before, always seemed to like what you’d heard. You found yourself hugging yourself, awkwardly mulling over what your mother had been saying. If this was some attempt to make you stay, to talk to your father, it wasn’t going to work. He’d never let you live under his roof without going back to what he’d moulded you into... 

“Mom, I can’t come home... Not if I want to live my own life,” you told her, “I’m sorry...” 

And you were, but only for her. Your father had done to her what he did to you, just slower over the course of their 30+ year relationship. She’d been microdosed for decades, until she barely recognised herself anymore. This touch of empathy proved that. 

Your mom shook her head, taking a deep breath to steady herself.  

“Are you safe?” she asked, her only concern. “I won’t have you on the streets, I need to know you have a place to go.” You nodded at her. “Same place you got those clothes?”  

You looked down at them again, trying to figure out what to say to her. You didn’t want to tell her about Mary, you couldn’t. Instead, you just looked back at her blankly. “I’m safe, mom.” 

“Good. Well... if this is what you truly want, I won’t stop you,” she stood up, coming to stand in front of you and holding your hand in one of hers, the other tucking some of your hair behind your ear. “Go and live your life, my love. You let me handle your father.” 

“Why do you stay with him?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself. But it was too late now. “You laugh along with his bullshit jokes, you let things slide, you let him push you around and tell you how to live your life too. Why?”  

“Because it’s too late for me,” she smiled, her eyes glassing over with fresh tears. “But I’ll be okay. There’s good and there’s bad to this, but I love your father. I’ll keep doing my best to influence only the best out of him, because I know it’s in there. I remember when he started his political career, he had nothing... He wanted to help people, to make life a little easier for people. But politics has a way of moulding you into a puppet, like he has with you... All I can do is keep reminding him of where he came from too.”  

She pressed a kiss to your forehead, silent tears rolling down her cheeks before she turned away from you with a sniffle and wiped at them.  

“He’ll be home soon, you’d better hurry,” she said, picking up the folded dress and heels on your bed. You nodded wordlessly, heading into your bedroom with Mary’s empty backpack to gather the rest of your toiletries. You were in there perhaps two minutes, gathering your things and shoving them into your backpack, but by the time you came back out your mother had disappeared. Your bag was zipped up and ready to go, the dress and heels taken with her.  

Without giving yourself the chance to dwell on your decisions, to question yourself or doubt your choices, you hauled the backpack onto your shoulder, hoisted the duffel bag up by the straps and carefully climbed back out of the open window. The front door certainly would have been easier, but if your father was due home soon, you’d rather not run into him. This was safer, and the thought of coming across your mother again drove a white-hot blade straight through your chest.  

Carefully, you managed to find your way back over the garden wall, cutting across the street towards Mary’s van. When you wrenched the door open, Mary was laying further down in his seat, one foot up on the dashboard and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He sat up immediately, reaching across the two passenger seats to help drag the duffel back into the footwell while you climbed in, strapping yourself in without a word – just a deep sigh, throwing your head back against the seat.  

“You okay?” he asked hesitantly, holding his pack of smokes out to you in offering. You took one wordlessly while Mary pressed the lighter on the centre console in for you. It popped out quickly, having already been heated for his own.  

“I will be,” you mumbled, dragging a lungful of smoke in to dull the rising anxiety in your chest. “Let’s go.” 

Mary didn’t argue, nor press you for your thoughts. Instead, he switched on the engine, pulled his van away from the curb, and headed off down the street. 

At the living room window, your mother stood behind the net curtains, watching you leave. Her chest ached with the heavy sobs she kept from ripping up her throat. She clutched your dress against her, biting her lip and tasting the salt of her tears on them. While she understood why you needed to leave, your father telling her everything you had said to him and how you had ‘betrayed his trust’ by doing so, it still cut her to the core to watch her only child have to run away from her home in order to find her own happiness. 

The only comfort to her, was watching you get into a black van that you weren’t driving. You had someone with you, someone who waited for you, who had your back. You had told her you were safe, and she believed you. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see who was driving the van from here, but it was enough to know that you weren’t alone in the world.  

She trusted you enough to know you were going to be okay.  

Mary drove you straight back to his apartment at your request. When he pulled up outside, he met you at the passenger door and took the heavy duffel bag from your grasp despite your protests, and headed up to the third floor with you in tow.  

He dropped the duffel bag on his bed, immediately heading over to his dresser to empty as much space for your things as he could. He compacted his half-filled drawers, shoving jeans in with tees and socks in with underwear to give you the room to empty your duffel. He didn’t think it fair to live out of a bag for however long you might be here.  

With a few drawers emptied, he turned back to find you sat on the arm of his couch, defeated and curled in on yourself as you stared at the floor.  

“There’s uh... room now, for your stuff I mean,” he mumbled, still feeling awkward. Partially about this morning, that air never really clearing, and partially because he just didn’t know how to help you right now. He had no idea you’d spoken with your mother, no clue of the heavy feeling on your chest and what had caused it. But he noticed something was different when you got back in the van.  

“Thanks... You didn’t have to,” you shrugged. Mary ignored that last part. 

“There should be room in the bathroom cabinet for your stuff too, but anywhere is fine. This place is yours for however long you want it, so... make yourself at home.” You nodded appreciatively. "I should get some food in, fridge is empty as fuck, so...”  

He gathered his keys from the kitchen counter where he’d left them, and moved towards the door. 

“Wait, Mare...” you called to him, standing from the couch and quickly walking over to him before he had a chance to open the front door. He turned around, confused and was met with arms wrapping around his waist and your body pressing against his, head laying against his shoulder. Stunned, Mary stood still for a moment, arms raised and eyes blinking. 

“I’m sorry. For this morning...” you told him, not ready to burn another bridge over something pathetic such as that. Mary’s shoulders slumped in relief, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and holding you tightly against him.  

“S’alright, doll. I’m sorry too. But you don’t gotta panic, alright? We’re fine. We’re gonna be fine,” he assured, resting his chin on the top of your head. He held you for a few moments, feeling the tension leaving your shoulders and your body relaxing into him.  

“I’ll be back soon, alright? You unpack, relax,” he said, kissing the top of your head and pulling back from you. You nodded with a half-smile, watching as he left you alone in his apartment.  

With a sigh, you walked over to the duffel on his bed, unzipping the fully stuffed bag ready to remove your clothes and sort them into the drawers Mary had emptied for you. But as you opened the bag, your eyes fell on something you hadn’t packed for yourself.  

A photo, folded up with a note written on the back of it.  

‘Find yourself, angel. All my love, Mom. Xo' 

As if your heart wasn’t already busy shredding itself at the note, the picture you unfolded only made it harder to swallow the lump in your throat.  

It was you as a toddler, sat on your mother’s knee at a picnic table while your father, younger than you could ever remember him, sat beside you both, feeding you messily from an ice cream cone. No shirt and tie, no matching tweed sets, no pearls – your father wore a plain t-shirt and jeans, your mother dungarees and a ringer tee.  

You’d never seen them look so normal... just a sweet, young couple with their little girl on a day out at the park.  

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Your ribcage vibrated at the force of the sob you set free, forcing yourself to sit on the edge of Mary’s bed to allow yourself a moment to lose it. You needed that; just a flash of time to mourn the loss of a life stolen from all of you by the pressures of politics. The smiles on your parents faced showed a time they were truly happy, they weren’t faking for a camera or a crowd.  

You had to wonder what had changed, why your father lost sight of his own values. He hadn’t always been a cruel and stoic businessman. He had loved you, wanted to do right by you.  

What changed? 

By the time Mary came home, over an hour had passed. He carried arms full of paper grocery bags that you rushed to help him with, now calmed and collected from your earlier breakdown. Why he’d bought so much you couldn’t understand, nor how he had the money to do so. As far as you were aware, he had no day job. Guilt washed over you, wondering if he’d filled the cupboards and fridge just because he knew you were staying with him.  

“Let me get some cash, it’s not fair you paid for all this if I’m eating too,” you told him, heading for your wallet you’d stuffed into the backpack Mary had given you.  

“Nah, you’re fine, doll. I got this one,” he protested, shoving the last of the groceries into the fridge. 

“Are you sure?” you asked, worried about burning a hole in his pocket.  

“If you’re worrying about money, don’t. I get by,” he shrugged, leaning up against the kitchen counter. “I restore guitars, get ‘em back in shape and ship ‘em back to their owners. Decent enough money for rent and bills, little extra pocket money here and there since the band funds kinda go back into the band.” 

“Damn, you do? I didn’t know... I guess I never asked, huh?” You headed back into the kitchen, hopping up onto a kitchen cabinet opposite him.  

“Yeah, learned some carpentry from Mr Rogers? He had this workshop in town. I helped out as a kid, he taught me some things...”

Mr Rogers was a name you knew well, a sweet older man even when you were a child. Everybody in town knew Mr Rogers. You looked around his apartment again, seeing the electric guitars up against the wall and the battered old acoustic he’d removed from his bed. 

“Is that one you’re working on now?” you asked, pointing to the acoustic. It really was in rough shape...  

“Oh, uh... no. That’s... that’s mine. I kinda like it how it is,” he shrugged, clearing his throat. “And I don’t restore them here, I got myself a little storage unit outside of town to do all that when Mr Rogers retired. Anyway, you all unpacked?” he asked, changing the subject quickly.  

“Oh yeah, thanks. I didn’t bring much, most of it wasn’t exactly my stuff anyway.”  

“Nice. You hungry?” His eyebrow quirked up, his arms folding across his chest. As if your stomach had ears of its own, it growled at the mere thought of food. Through everything today, you’d forgotten to eat and yes... you were hungry. Mary chuckled at the sound of your growling stomach. “Sounds like a yes.” 

“Kinda,” you smiled.  

“Alright, well get dressed then. We’re going out,” he told you, smiling to himself.  

“Out? Where?” you asked.  

“Just out. Wear something you like, makes you feel good,” he pushed himself off the kitchen counter, rounding the half wall to sit himself on the couch and flicking on his TV. “Take your time.” 

You stared at him in confusion from your seat on the kitchen counter, looking at the back of his head as if he’d grown another one.  

“Alright, don’t take that much time...” he teased, “go, go!” He flapped his hand out towards the bedroom half of the apartment, snapping you into motion. You jumped down from the counter, in search of something to wear.  

Something that made you feel good, he’d said, as if that was important to him. Not something you thought he would like, not something you thought anybody in the world would like, other than you.  

A smile tugged at your lips, flicking through the garments you’d brought with you with the tags still on, the things you’d always wanted to wear, but never had the guts to.  

Finally, it was time to figure out your style. 

It felt like staring at someone you’d known your whole life, and yet, you’d never met before... Your reflection stared back at you, made up how you wanted, dressed up how you wanted. Darker eye make up, a deeper red lip shade, and a fitted black knitted dress just past your knees with some squeaky-clean black converse. This was the you you’d envisioned when you bought the damn dress, but never had the guts to become. If you’d walked downstairs at home in this outfit, your father would have made you change immediately.  

But now, as you reached behind you to rip the tag from the back, you felt like yourself for the first time. This was definitely something that made you feel good, despite it being so simple. 

With a deep breath, you stepped out of Mary’s bathroom with an audible “ta-da!” His head whipped around from where he sat on the couch, his eyes scanning over your body, lips quirking up into a smirk. 

“Not wearing that just to impress me are you, doll?” he asked, raising an eyebrow cheekily. But truthfully, he was worried you were... He didn’t want you to feel like you had to dress a certain way to be with him or be around him. If you wanted to wear pretty pink dresses, he didn’t care. But if you wanted to wear darker clothes like this? Well... he certainly wasn’t complaining.  

“Nope. Pretty much everything I brought with me still has the tags on, because this is how I always wanted to dress and just... didn’t,” you shrugged. Mary stood up then, walking over to you to lift your hand in his and twirl you like a real doll on a music box.  

“And how do you feel?” he asked, still holding your hand as you came back around to face him.  

“Like me,” you grinned. Mary’s smile widened, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead.  

“You’re missing something though...” he said, wagging his eyebrows at you as he darted off behind the outer bathroom wall that hid the front door from view. When he came back, he’d taken his leather jacket from the pegs next to the front door. When he stopped in front of you, he opened it for you. “Can’t let you get cold.”  

“Mary...” you cooed, “after what you went through to get it back?” you teased, threading your arms into the sleeves as he held it for you.

“And I'll go through that again, if that’s what it takes...” he flirted from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lowering his voice to a far more seductive tone. Naturally, you leaned into him, sighing happily wrapped in his jacket and him. “Just gimme 5, doll.” He patted your hip as he unravelled himself from around you, and disappeared into the bathroom. When he emerged, he’d styled his hair, painted his face in his usual make up and fake blood, and he smelled distinctly like that night in your bedroom... His cologne. 

“Alright, let’s go,” he draped an arm around your shoulders and led you back towards the front door, picking up his keys on the way and a distressed denim jacket that was hung up on the same pegs his leather one had been.  

You had no idea where Mary was taking you... He seemed to be driving forever, through town and out the other side, down winding roads and country lanes. Was he taking you into the city? He refused to tell you, instead turning the volume up instantly with a cheeky grin every time you whined about not knowing where you were, and only turning it down again when you stopped talking.  

It wasn’t until you found yourself surrounded by trees and on a dirt path that you started to wonder what the fuck Mary was really up to...

“Mare, seriously...” you sat up in your seat, looking out of the windows at the scenery, the sky turning orange and pink as time went on, “where the fuck are we?”  

He didn’t touch the volume dial this time, instead focussing on the road ahead with sneaky side glances to you every so often, watching you look around for some kind of clue.  

“You trust me, right doll?” he asked, smirking.  

“I did, but you’ve brought me to a secluded woodland, alone, in a van,” you joked, only the slightest hint of anxiety in your voice. After all, you hadn’t known Mary that long... “I thought we were going to dinner...?”  

“We are. Just trust me,” he assured, losing a bit of that smugness after hearing the slight nerves in your voice. He hadn’t wanted to make you genuinely anxious, and he was trying to quell that as best he could. “Almost there.” 

After a little while, the trees started to thin, the burnt orange of the sky more visible to you as you looked out over a huge expanse of water, stretching right out to the horizon where the sun was threatening to dip underneath. The dirt track you were on opened up into what looked like a turning circle, the water lapping at the edge of it. Mary slowed the van down, using the space to turn around and back up just a few feet away from the water’s edge before putting it into park and switching off the engine.  

The radio cut out, and left the two of you in silence. Mary turned to you with a smug look, and you waited for him to do something, to say something to explain how on earth you were meant to get dinner here. He said nothing.  

“If you think I’m fishing for my dinner, you got another thing coming...” you told him, folding your arms over your chest. Mary just laughed, pulling the keys out of the ignition and jumping out of his side of the van. You stayed put, scowling at him with only a half-serious air of annoyance. He came to your door, opening it for you.  

“M’lady...” He bowed and held out his arm to encourage you to step down from the van. You did so gingerly, squinting at him with suspicion.  

With the door shut behind you, he walked around to the back of the van, and opened up the double doors to the back. You heard a small click, like a switch, and peered around the doors to look inside half expecting to find a rack of various sharp objects, maybe a chainsaw and plastic sheets from an episode of Dexter...  

But instead, you were met with possibly the cutest little sight you’d ever seen.  

You’d never seen so many pillows and blankets stuffed into such a small space, the entire back of the van covered in comfort to laze about on. Battery powered fairy lights were strung up across every wall, sitting over patterned wall hangings to make the space look more cozy, almost bohemian. In the middle of the blankets, sat a disposable barbeque, and a grocery bag of burgers, buns and snacks to keep you going for the evening.  

“I don’t really do restaurants...” he shrugged, kicking at the dirt at his feet.  

Looking around at the setting you found yourself in, you almost felt like crying. He’d put effort in, he’d thought about this, he’d prepared. This felt more intimate than any restaurant could, gave you a chance to just exist with Mary in your own world for a moment, away from the judgement of others and the obvious stares and whispers from a public that knew you all too well.  

You were speechless. You had nothing smart to say, no quick wit or little quips. Instead, you were filled with an overwhelming warmth and gratitude.  

Before either he or you knew what you were doing, you stepped closer to him and grabbed fistfuls of his t-shirt, pulling him closer to press your lips to his. Words had failed you, but actions spoke louder anyway, right?  

Mary stumbled back a little, but promptly held his hands out to grip your hips as he kissed you back with a chuckle. When he pried his lips from yours after a while, he still didn’t let you go, far too comfortable holding you close to him while you still held onto his t-shirt. 

“So, you’re not mad at me?” he asked smugly. You shook your head no, biting your lip to contain the grin. “Good... I just wanted it to be us tonight. No one else shoving their noses in our business, y’know?” 

“It’s perfect, Mare. Shouldn’t have doubted you,” you told him. “But you better get that barbeque going stat, before I take a chunk out of you instead.” 

“Ooh, don’t threaten me with a good time, doll,” he teased with a wink, letting you go and reaching into the van for the supplies he’d brought. As he was setting up the barbeque, he threw his keys to you, “half-turn the key, you’ll just get the radio. Tune it to whatever you want.” You nodded, letting him get on with it while you searched through the stations for something a little less screamy, a little more old-school... You settled for a station known for its classic rock – a middle ground for you and Mary for now.  

Getting comfy amongst the pillows and blankets Mary had collected – whilst he’d been grocery shopping, so he told you – you watched him get to work, using his zippo to light the coals and throwing a couple of burger patties on the grill with some chicken skewers. Golden hour was certainly upon you, the gorgeous scenery bathed in an ethereal orange glow as the sun descended.  

The sky grew darker as Mary cooked for the two of you, both of you making your way through the burgers, skewers and snacks he’d brought just chatting, laughing, enjoying the company of one another in a way that had so far been impossible. If you had any doubts about Mary’s personality at all, this evening had squashed them completely. He was a dork, a loser, a cheeky little shit and so incredibly charming, sweet and hilarious.  

Swapping stories of your adolescence took you well into the darkness of the night, laughing at the shit he’d pulled as a teenager, the trouble he’d gotten into with his friends while you told him of the stupidity of a fake life, the tales of pettiness and girl-drama from high school and the asshole boys you’d dated through the years.  

“So, you’ve only ever dated assholes then, huh?” he asks, taking a sip from the soda can in his hand. 

“Yep, sure know how to pick ‘em... Or maybe I attract them, I don’t know. Didn’t exactly want most of their attention,” you scoffed, biting the end off a strawberry twizzler.  

“Like that asshole at the fair?” he asked, taking another sip. You made a face of disgust, remembering the way that Devon had claimed you that night.  

“Mhm. He decided I was his the second he met me. Gross. I spent all evening trying to get him away from me without causing a scene. Like I said, just attract assholes,” you shrugged, turning to face him with a sly smile, “still do.” 

Mary swallowed a large gulp of the soda, finishing his can and sat up from where he leaned on his elbow in the pillows, his eyebrow quirked upwards and chest puffed out.  

“Oh, I’m an asshole?”  

“You deny it?” you teased, taking another bite of the twizzler.  

Mary crushed the soda can in his fist and threw it behind him, keeping his eyes on you as he moved closer, practically crawling on his knuckles. You swallowed your bite, butterflies awakening in your stomach at the dark look on his face. His make up only made him look more menacing, a spark of excitement igniting inside you.  

“Well, if you only date assholes, does that mean we’re dating, doll?” he challenged, the corner of his lips twitching. Neither of you had labelled whatever this was between you, the conversation this morning only settling on it being something. Was he asking you to officially be his? You grew nervous, worried you’d scare him off with an admission that yes, you wanted to date him. Officially. 

“I-I...” you stumbled, trying desperately to think of something smart to say. You fell short.  

“I seem to remember you telling me you’d ‘fight for me’ this morning, doll...” he practically growled, continuing to crawl over you until you shuffled back, slowly leaning into the pillows behind you as he loomed over you. His body lay beside yours, and yet, he leaned on his fists either side of you, contorted to cage you in. “’With your bare fucking hands’?” 

For the second time tonight, you were speechless. All you could think about was how close he was, how menacing he looked, how your body melted under his and you seemed all too willing to submit beneath him.  

“I suppose what I’m asking you, doll, is...” he lowered his head to whisper in your ear, “Are you mine?”  

Where words failed you, the involuntary little whimper you let slip spoke for you. Mary had to bite his lip and turn his head away to look at the far wall of the van to contain the proud grin and laugh he wanted to let out. Composing himself, he looked back down at you, gaze drifting over you.  

“You just gotta say the words, doll. Easy as that.” He raised one of his fists to toy with the edges of his leather jacket you still had wrapped around you, fingertips grazing your collarbone beneath the knit of your dress. “What do you say, hm?” 

You let a beat of quiet pass between you, the low melodies of classic rock still playing from the cabin of the van. He waited patiently, still toying with the badges and spikes of his jacket, admiring how pretty they looked on you.  

“I want to be yours, Mary...” you confessed.  

Mary’s eyes instantly flicked back up to look into yours. He searched for a moment, looking for any insincerity, anything that made him think you regretted those words slipping from your tongue or you had only said that because he’d asked you to.  

Nothing of the sort.  

The kiss Mary surprised you with knocked the wind out of you, bruising and all-consuming as his body all but collapsed into you, his lips moulding to yours and smearing your lipstick in such a heated moment of need he surprised even himself. His hand slipped beneath his jacket, palm flattening against your collarbone and sliding up to hold the back of your neck, his thumb stretching to hold your jaw in place and manoeuvre your head to the perfect angle. 

He leaned his body weight into you, his elbow propping him up enough to save you from being completely crushed but the weight on your chest was welcomed. You just wanted him close, everywhere all at once.  

His lips commanded movement from you, parting them over and over to welcome his tongue into the mix as well as yours. His grip on you tightened, his body rolling into yours with a desperate need to make you his as you’d asked. Your heart hammered against your chest, pounding so hard you thought it might burst through just to get to Mary.  

The hand on your neck dragged itself down further, palm flattened against your collarbone and down between the valley of your breasts, over your stomach and quickly dipping to your hip where he squeezed the flesh he adored. With a second squeeze he pulled your hip closer, colliding with his own and earning a groan that parted his lips from yours and spread the heat of his breath against your chin where he was now mouthing recklessly, leaving sloppy kisses on your skin.  

“Can I have you now?” he pleaded, the sloppy kisses moving along your jaw to beneath your ear, and down your neck.  

“Please, Mary...” you begged, hands fisting the soft blankets beneath you.  

He sat up abruptly, pushing himself away to kneel at your feet with every ounce of willpower he could muster to be away from you. You sat yourself up on your elbows wanting to chase him, panic ensuing that he’d changed his mind but when he sat himself at your feet and lifted one to his thigh, you calmed a little, watching with intrigue.  

He pulled at your shoelace, slowly unravelling them to loosen your high tops and pull at the heel, removing it along with your sock. He gently placed it between his knees again, lifting the other to do the same except this time, he didn’t lower your foot. Instead, he raised it higher, pressing his lips gently to the inside of your ankle. He leaned forward on his knees, holding your leg to easily trail more slow, open-mouthed kisses up the inside of your calf muscle until he was dipped low enough to rest your ankle on his shoulder, yet still travelling his kisses up to your knee. With his hand now free, he could push the hem of your dress up and chase it with his lips. 

You watched him take his time, the heat in your stomach growing inescapably. You wanted to press your thighs together for some kind of friction but in this position, Mary would never allow it. All you could do was wrap your arms around your stomach, gripping onto the material of your dress in anticipation.  

 The dress bunched against the middle of your thighs, and his lips made their way up the inside of your knee, mouthing at the flesh with gentle scrapes of his teeth and puffs of hot breath as he groaned against you. He looked so lost in his worship of your body, eyes closed and eyebrows knitting together with each moan. Before he could get too close to where you needed him, he sat up again, both hands reaching underneath your dress on the outsides of your thighs and finding the hem of your panties. He dragged them down from under the skirt, pulling them off you and dropping them to one side. Before coming back to you, he stripped himself of his denim jacket and reached behind his head to pull his t-shirt off again, leaving him shirtless with his jeans belted low on his hips.  

You allowed yourself to linger on the sight of his little happy trail dipping beneath the material, the distinct ‘V’ shape your remembered from the night in your bedroom making your mouth water and your thighs press together like you’d wanted before.  

Without another word, he lowered himself to his stomach, lifting your ankle over his shoulder again and leaning on his elbows. His lips found your inner thigh where he’d left you, and began their ascension with more wet kisses and gentle bites. You helped him with your dress, finally feeling him nudging his nose against the very top of your inner thigh. Raising your hips, you pulled the dress over the swell of your ass beneath you, and exposed your core to him.  

Mary couldn’t help but to stare... How pretty you looked for him, practically sparkling with arousal already. Like a man possessed, he was drawn to your centre, his lips pressing to your mound right above where you glistened for him. Instinctively your fingers threaded in his hair, pushing that signature spike in front of his face out of the way and gripping onto the strands to ground yourself.  

Finally, he kissed your lips as he wound his arms underneath your thighs, hands flattened to your flesh and pulling your hips down to his mouth. His tongue snuck between your folds and swept across your throbbing clit, getting a taste of you that awoke something primal inside him. His fingers dug into your flesh tighter and he pushed his face deeper into your core, tongue now swishing and flicking over your nerves while you threw your head back at the pleasure.  

At the sound of your first breathy and high-pitched moan, he grinned, tongue still laving at your clit. He’d fucking missed that... And with no one around for miles, he had no need to gag you, to stop you from singing for him like a siren’s call. The two of you were finally alone, this time in no danger of being caught or found out. He could hear you tonight, completely unbound.  

One of the arms snaked around your thigh unwound, his palm pressing to your abdomen and his thumb stretching to flick over your clit as his tongue dipped lower, burrowing between your folds and finding a well of arousal to lap at where it had gathered at your entrance. You spread your legs wider for him, encouraging him as he drank you in. Mary’s tongue was like fucking magic, casting spells that had your mind dizzy and hazy.  

“Mary...” you whined, your hips lazily grinding against his tongue until he pressed further, dipping inside you while his thumb flicked over your clit. You were going to lose yourself quickly, completely drunk on pleasure. Mary didn’t care, so long as he could hear you singing his name over and over.  

Somehow, he burrowed his face deeper, groaning into you. When you looked down, you could see his ass rising and falling behind his head, grinding his cock into the makeshift bed beneath him. He was too turned on to stay still, enjoying himself too much to even notice he was humping the pillows and blankets like a horny teenager. And fuck it turned you on.  

The coil inside you was winding itself tighter and tighter by the second while Mary only intensified his movements, worshipping you so completely. When you called his name again, your fingers tightening and scratching at his scalp, he only got faster, desperate to bring you to an end like he had so many times before. Your hips bucked despite how hard his palm pressed against your stomach and his other held your thigh down, and soon enough, you were losing your mind with your first orgasm ripping through your body.  

Mary drank every drop of fresh arousal he could get, continuing to pleasure you through the waves of your orgasm. Your cries and whimpers only encouraged him to keep going, until your body started to go limp beneath him, muscles contracting in your aftershocks. He only slightly pulled back, pressing light kisses to your clit and chuckling when it had your body jolting in overstimulation.  

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to gag you again, doll... You sound too pretty,” he remarked, looking at you from between your legs with a coy smile. You giggled, blushing furiously as you combed your fingers through his hair. He crawled his way up your body, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand and pressing his lips to yours again. You cradled his cheeks in your palms, dreamily losing yourself in his kiss.  

Kissing him again allowed you some time to recover from such a strong orgasm, until you found the energy to lift your thigh to his hip and press inwards, rolling your body to force him onto his back while you straddled his waist. He allowed it, moaning involuntarily when your bare core brushed against his erection behind his tight jeans. His hands slid from your waist to your ass, squeezing the exposed flesh like fresh bread dough.  

You pulled yourself back, sitting upright and shaking his jacket from your shoulders, dropping it to the side. He joined you, rolling the dress up past your waist for you to take over, lifting it above your head and off your body. He leaned forwards, pressing his lips to your collarbone and sternum, resuming his earlier open-mouthed kissing spree across your chest while you reached behind you to unclasp your bra. He scrambled to pull it from you, never letting his kisses cease while he made his way across your breast to take a nipple into his mouth, nipping and sucking at the bud.  

You ground your hips down into him, reminding him you needed his focus there as much as you enjoyed his attention on your breasts. It was all well and good him worshipping you and making you feel good, but you were so desperate to please him too... Yes, it turned him on to make you feel good, he derived most of his pleasure from it, but you wanted to give him the same. 

“You focus too much on me,” you told him, slipping your hands between you both and reaching for his belt. “What about you, hm? Don’t I get to make you lose your mind too?” 

Mary looked up at you in total awe, “didn’t you notice? I lost my mind the second you told me you were mine, baby...” 

You grinned down at him, overwhelmed with an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint but it didn’t stop you from undoing his belt and jeans and slipping a hand beneath the layers of material separating you. When your hand wrapped around him, he threw his head back, groaning and rolling his eyes into the back of his head.  

“Help me get ‘em off, Mare,” you told him, and he didn’t have it in him to argue at all. Why would he?  

You shuffled back, pulling at the hem of his jeans and boxers while he planted his palms to the blankets beneath him and lifted his hips so you could shimmy them down. He helped to push them further, while you reached behind him to take off his boots and socks. He kicked the jeans and boxers from his legs, leaning back on his palms again as you shuffled yourself back to straddle his hips.  

“You got any idea how beautiful you are, doll?” he asked, watching his own hand dance across your thigh and up over your hip.  

“Never felt like that until you came along...” you admitted shyly. His head snapped in your direction, his eyes meeting yours.  

“That’s a fucking crime,” he told you, pressing his thumb to your chin and pinching gently. You turned your head to press a light kiss to the heel of his palm, then leaned in to steal a real kiss from him again. While his mind was preoccupied with your lips, you reached between you both again, taking him in your hand with a stroke and beaming at the praise that came in the form of a whimper. Without disconnecting your kiss, you lined your hips up with his, and slowly began to sink down on his length.  

Mary’s jaw swung open with a loud moan, one of the hands he was leaning on shooting to your thigh and digging into the flesh as if it would stop the world imploding around him. You understood, your own body reacting much the same with your arms latching around his neck to keep you stable as he filled you. You felt so tight around him, walls already contracting as you derived your pleasure from the intrusion.  

You had to take a moment when he had nothing more to fill you with, stretched around him and overwhelmed. His grip on your thigh never lessened, the two of you pressing your foreheads together with parted lips and hot, uneven breaths fanning each other’s face. It felt so incredibly intimate; whatever this connection with Mary was, it was all-consuming. If it weren’t for the throb of need between your legs, you’d have been content to stay like this for as long as he’d allow. 

But now accustomed to his size and the depths to which he filled you, you couldn't help yourself. Slowly, you began to roll your hips against his, your fingers snaking into the hair at the base of his neck as you brushed your nose against his. The hand on your thigh slid to your hips, his nails biting at your curves.  

As you found a rhythm, moans dripped from his lips like the sweetest syrup. You taking control, needing him so close you could practically swallow each other whole was driving Mary wild. In his head, he was battling between begging you to ride him faster and wanting to keep you like this as long as possible, prolonging both of your pleasure. All either of you cared about was how the other was feeling – your own pleasures were simply a bonus. 

“Take what you need from me, baby,” he panted as your pace picked up a little, your hips rocking into him and body rolling against him. “I’m yours just... just as much as you’re mine.” 

Hearing that, you lost yourself. Your head fell back, hair cascading down your shoulders and body rolling faster into him. He shifted his weight beneath you to relieve the need to hold himself up with one hand, instead wrapping his arms around your back and digging his fingernails in there too. Feeling him clawing at your flesh, you felt so wanted it drove you insane.  

Mary’s lips collided with your chest again, mouthing at the skin as he groaned and whimpered into you. His hands were all over you, feeling every inch of you surrounding him, guiding you in your mission to capture bliss with every roll of your hips. You felt Mary everywhere, and it was fucking perfect. 

Unbridled moans filled the van, spilling out into the night and across the still waters of the lake under the moonlight. In such a picturesque snapshot of Mother Nature’s work, nothing felt more natural than this moment with him. No insecurities, no doubts, nothing to be unsure about.  

The way you rode him had his cock reaching every spot inside you, the control allowing you to pinpoint what felt the best and demand more of it. Mary could feel you squeezing him, massaging every inch of him as he sunk further and further into madness. The spell you were casting on him was a welcomed hex, and he was a willing victim. 

“M-Mary?” you called out to him, your eyes shut so tight; you were afraid to open them in case everything you were feeling disappeared. 

“I’m here... Fuck, I’m here, doll. Not goin’ nowhere,” he vowed, his grip tightening, his promises muffled by the swell of your breast.  

You became almost frantic, chasing both of your highs. It was the only thing that mattered to you; that bond, that simultaneous desire to prove to each other how vital this attachment was. Mary let one of his hands slither between you both, giving you his palm to rut yourself against while you took him deeper with each thrust against him. The direct contact with your clit had you fluttering around him, and he couldn’t help but bite down on your breast and send a brief flash of welcomed pain through your body.  

The yelp you let out snapped his head up to look at you, finding your face contorted into an expression of euphoria. His free hand gripped your neck, his thumb curling around your jaw to hold your face tightly.  

“Look at me,” he demanded, growling through grit teeth, his orgasm hurtling towards him like a runaway train. He needed to see you. “Baby look at me, c-come on, please...” he begged. 

Your eyes shot open at his request and the blissful tears in your eyes were all it took to send him over the edge. He pulled your face to his and smashed his lips to yours, rocking underneath you to match your thrusts while his cock pulsated and kicked inside you, spilling everything he had deep inside you. The lewd sounds of his cum and your slick mixing and were so intoxicating, and the warmth of his release had you whimpering into his mouth.  

His didn’t remove his hand from between you, nor from your neck. If anything, his palm pressed harder against your clit, and there really was no hope of containing your orgasm if you had wanted to. A powerful wave of ecstasy sucked you under the surface, tumbling you until you couldn’t discern which way was up or down. You gasped, the air being punched out of your lungs to separate your last desperate kiss.  

Mary cried out as if he was in pain, overstimulated by the way your core sucked him inside and refused to let go. The hand at your clit shot to your back to stop you from falling backwards, your balance long lost. Instead, you fell forwards, Mary powerless to stop your weight from sending him flying back into the pillows.  

Now laying in a heap of limbs, you convulsed and whimpered while your climax ebbed away. Mary too, the shockwaves jolting him every time your walls contracted on his still semi-hard length. Neither of you could speak, simply exhausted and almost catatonic. It took all of his energy to wrap his arms around you. 

Minutes passed as you caught your breaths, like astronauts floating through space and finding a safe place to land. This felt different to any other time with Mary... It wasn’t dirty, it wasn’t rushed, you weren’t in danger of being discovered and you weren’t suppressed. You were simply so drunk on each other, so completely enamoured that words weren’t enough anymore.  

You’d never had this before. Neither had Mary. Both of you were just as clueless as to what to do with these feelings – and you were both as terrified as each other for whatever were to come next.  

You lifted your head to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked back down at you too, and before either of you knew what you were doing, you both erupted into laughter.  

You couldn’t pinpoint why; was it relief? Was it at the absurdity of how you got here? Was it just noise to fill the after-bliss void? Perhaps all of the above, but as Mary cuddled you into his side and wrapped you both in a blanket to stave of the chill of the night seeping into the space around you now you’d stilled, neither of you could stop the laughter.  

“What the fuck are we doing, doll?” he laughed, running his palm down his face as his laughter calmed to a chuckle.  

“Being young and dumb...” you gleamed, pressing a kiss to his chest and grinning up at him.  

“...and full of cum,” he teased, earning a loud slap to his bare chest and more laughter erupting from the two of you.  

“You had to ruin it!” you accused. 

“That’s me, doll. Ruin everything,” he winked, pulling you to lay higher next to him so you were face to face. “Certainly ruined your life.” 

“Wouldn’t change a second of it.”  

Mary’s smirk turned into a genuine smile, his fingers tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear. 

“Nah, me neither,” he declared, before cradling your cheek and leaning into you for another kiss; this time, one that had butterflies dancing in your stomach to a different tune – a more mellow, contented melody. 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3 | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

TAG LIST: @writingjourney @anamelessfool @astro-ghoul99 @sodoswitchimage @through-thebrokenglass @ghoulette-knell @thylacourt @onlyhereforghost @mikathemushroom @jaymechaos @gardenghoul22 @mustluvecho @mlioravanfleet @tobbesdiscordkitten @the-did-i-ask @love-is-all-you-need-13 @fishwithtitz @xshadyladyx @redthefieryginger @preqvelle @arhiannababe @namelessdrool @jokerofthepack52 @popialover @alonso123 @copias-sewer-rat @kadedoesthings @popiaswife @thew0man @siouxbauhaus @copias-juicebox @ghostfangirlsweden @rainstorms-library

[her-satanic-wiles]

Kinktober Day 15 - Dryfucking

Mary Goore x Reader

It’s festival season, and Mary is too busy for you. But when you both find yourselves alone in his van with five minutes to spare, you both get a little creative.

Masterlist ⛧ Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 3k.

Reading Time: 12 min.

Warnings: cum eating, cum in pants, dryfucking, dry humping, fellatio, mild exhibitionism, public

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @hauntedharmonic-ghoulishhaunter @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sister-of-sin-claudia @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

The cramped space of Mary’s van felt electric, the chaos of the festival fading into the background as you straddled his lap in the driver’s seat, your heart racing. The door was closed, leaving only the faint sounds of distant music and laughter as a backdrop to this stolen moment.

“Guess we finally have some time to ourselves,” Mary smirked, his hands resting on your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer. The heat radiated from his body, and you could feel the tension between you both simmering beneath the surface.

“You know,” you teased, leaning in slightly, letting your breath ghost over his ear, “I could get used to this kind of break.”

He chuckled, low and rumbling, his eyes darkening with mischief. “You’ve got five minutes. What are you gonna do with it?”

With a coy smile, you ground down against him, relishing the way he tensed beneath you.

Mary’s breath hitched at the sudden friction, his hands tightening around your waist as you rocked your hips against him. You could feel the unmistakable hardness pressing against you, and it ignited a thrill deep within.

“Damn, you’re bold,” he murmured, a grin spreading across his lips. His playful demeanor masked the raw desire simmering just beneath the surface. “I like it.”

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his neck as you continued to move, feeling the tension coiling tighter with every grind. “You’re the one who’s been too busy for me,” you teased, your voice low and sultry. “Now I have you all to myself.”

His chuckle vibrated against your body, sending delicious shivers down your spine. “Just wait until I get my hands on you for real. Five minutes can feel like a lifetime when you’re doing it right.”

With that, he shifted his grip, fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the warm skin of your lower back. You gasped softly, the sensation igniting sparks of heat that danced between you. You began to rub against him a little more, getting faster and more desperate with each stroke over his clothed cock. Your hole was screaming for it, begging him to free himself and bury his dick deep inside you, to rail you in his van like your lives depended on it. But you simply didn’t have the time for a proper fuck. This would have to do.

It was as if Mary knew what you were thinking, because he certainly felt it, too. His cock was painfully hard and desperate to get inside you - so much so that he was practically growling with frustration. You looked like a deity on top of him, so pliant, red-faced and damn near insane. And he was so angry at the fact he couldn’t just ruin you completely. Not in the way you deserved.

With a feral grin, he tilted his head back slightly, exposing the strong line of his throat, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to plant soft kisses along his collarbone. His breath hitched again, a mix of surprise and pleasure fueling the fire between you.

“Just like that,” he encouraged, his voice thick with desire. “You’re driving me crazy.”

You pressed your body against him, the sensation of his warmth igniting the electricity in the air, creating an intoxicating atmosphere that was just for the two of you. As you continued to grind against him, you felt the rhythm build, each movement drawing you both closer to the edge.

“Fuck, if only we had more time…” he breathed, but you could see the spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. “But let’s make the most of this.”

The fabric of his jeans felt both rough and exhilarating against your core, amplifying every tantalizing grind. Each movement sent a delicious friction through you, sending waves of pleasure radiating outwards, and you couldn’t help but let out soft moans that filled the confined space of the van.

“God, I love how you feel,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper as he watched you move, eyes dark with desire. The way he looked at you made your heart race even faster, igniting a sense of boldness you didn’t know you had.

But there was an undeniable thrill in the risk of it all—the knowledge that just outside those doors, festival-goers bustled by, completely unaware of what was unfolding within the van. The thought of being discovered only heightened your arousal, each thrust against his jeans a reminder of how close you were to being caught.

“Anyone could walk by and see us,” you teased, biting your lip as you continued to grind down, feeling the heat of his body against yours. “Do you think they would be shocked?”

Mary chuckled, his hands gripping your hips tighter as if to anchor you both in this fleeting moment. “Let them watch. It’s not like they could do anything about it.” His confidence was intoxicating, sending a thrill coursing through your veins. If Mary had his way, he’d pull you out of the van, bend you over the hood and rail you with whoever decided to watch. He didn’t care - as long as he was showing everyone who could make you feel fucking incredible.

As if on cue, a loud cheer erupted from the festival crowd, making you both jump slightly. Your heart raced, a mixture of excitement and trepidation flooding your senses. “We really shouldn’t be doing this,” you said, half-heartedly.

“Who cares?” he shot back, his voice low and fervent. “This is ours, just for now. I don’t want to stop.”

His hands roamed beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing your skin, and you gasped at the sensation. The contrast of his rough hands against your soft skin made every nerve ending stand on end, deepening your need for him. You could feel your pulse quicken, every subtle movement igniting the fire inside you.

“Mary,” you breathed, tilting your head back, giving him a better angle as he began to plant kisses along your collarbone. “You’re going to make me lose it.”

“Good,” he replied, his breath hot against your skin, “because I want to feel you fall apart right here, right now.”

You couldn’t help but increase the rhythm of your movements, the urgency building between you as the tension spiraled tighter and tighter. Each grind against his jeans felt so good, the fabric becoming a delicious barrier between you and what you truly wanted.

“Just a little more,” he encouraged, his voice rough and thick with need. You could sense he was holding back, trying to savor the moment as much as you were.

With each thrust, the world outside faded further away, leaving just the two of you in this stolen oasis. The thrill of being so close to being discovered, mixed with the warmth of his body beneath you, propelled you closer to the edge. Every sound, every whisper became magnified, heightening your senses and pulling you deeper into this shared moment of reckless abandon.

Mary’s eyes darkened with desire as he watched you move above him, the tension palpable in the air. “If I had more time,” he began, his voice low and gravelly, “I’d take my time with you. I’d make sure you felt every inch of me, every sensation.”

His hands gripped your hips, urging you to move faster, and you could feel the desperate need in his words as he continued. “I’d have you on your back, legs spread wide, and I’d worship every part of you. I’d start at your thighs, kissing my way up until I reached that sweet spot I know you love.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the thought, the image of him taking his time sending waves of pleasure through you. “Mary,” you breathed, losing yourself in the moment as you pushed your hips against him, the heat building between you both.

“And once I had you all worked up,” he continued, his breath hitching as you pressed down harder against him, “I’d tease you until you were begging for release. I want to hear you cry my name, feel you squirm beneath me.”

You couldn’t help but moan at his words, the thought of his mouth on you sending another rush of heat through your body. “That sounds so good…”

“Doesn’t it?” he replied, his voice thick with need. “And when you’re finally ready, I’d bury myself inside you, filling you up until you can’t take it anymore. I want to feel you around me, holding me tight as you come undone.”

The imagery painted a vivid picture in your mind, and you felt yourself getting closer to the edge with every thrust. “Mary, I—”

“And I’d keep going,” he said, his voice rising in pitch, urgency dripping from his words. “I wouldn’t stop until I made you scream. I want everyone to know how good you feel, how much you mean to me. I want to claim you in the best way possible.”

You whimpered at his admission, the idea of being so utterly his causing a wave of pleasure to crash over you. The way he spoke, so raw and passionate, made you feel alive in a way you never had before. “Just a few more minutes,” you urged, desperate to reach that peak with him.

“Just a few more,” he echoed, the heat between you building to a fever pitch as you ground down harder, the sensation of his jeans against your core pushing you closer to the edge. “And then… I’ll make sure you feel every second of what’s to come.”

The tension coiling within you reached its breaking point, each grind against Mary igniting sparks of pleasure that overwhelmed your senses. You could feel the warmth pooling deep inside, the tight knot in your core pulling tauter with each desperate thrust.

“Mary, I’m so close,” you gasped, your breath hitching as the world outside faded completely.

“Me too,” he panted, his hands gripping you tighter, as if he feared you might slip away. “Just let go.”

With a final, intense thrust, you surrendered to the wave crashing over you, the world around you dissolving as pleasure washed over your entire body. Your vision blurred, and a soft cry escaped your lips as you came, feeling every sensation magnified, every pulse of pleasure radiating from your core.

“Fuck!” Mary exclaimed, his voice hoarse as he watched you unravel, eyes glued to your expression of bliss. The sight of you losing yourself sent him spiraling closer to the edge, his own body responding to your climax with urgent need.

You felt the heat of your release envelop you, the last remnants of your pleasure radiating outward as you collapsed against him, breathless and overwhelmed.

“Damn,” he breathed, the frustration lacing his tone. “I was right behind you.”

Just as you caught your breath, you felt him twitch beneath you, his own climax surging forth with surprising intensity. “Oh, no…!” he groaned, his head tipping back against the seat as he released, frustration mingling with pleasure as he came in his pants.

“Mary!” you laughed, a mixture of surprise and delight at the sight of him losing control beneath you. “You really couldn’t wait?”

“I didn’t want to!” he groaned, shaking his head in disbelief as he caught his breath. “Now I’m going to have to deal with this mess in my jeans.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, your heart swelling at the sight of him, disheveled and utterly undone. “Well, I guess that’s what you get for being so distracted.”

“Yeah, well…” he said, a sheepish grin creeping onto his face as he ran a hand through his hair, “it was worth it.”

“Definitely,” you replied, your voice playful as you leaned in to steal a quick kiss, feeling a warm blush creeping up your cheeks. The thrill of the moment lingered in the air, leaving both of you breathless and exhilarated as you shared a knowing look.

“Wanna use that cheeky tongue of yours and clean up this mess you made?” he teased, using his thumb to pull at your bottom lip. There was still hunger in his eyes.

“What, and have you get hard again before you go on stage?” you asked, but the thought made you laugh - it would torment him so much having his guitar in front of him, bashing against his hardness every time he played. He’d come off stage so angry at you. You reached for his jeans and began unbuttoning them. “Alright,” you agreed.

Mary’s eyes widened. “No, I was joking!”

You continued to pull his jeans open, still teasing him. “No, you’re right, I should clean up my mess.”

With a playful smirk, you leaned closer, your breath warm against his skin. The air was thick with anticipation, the thrill of the moment making your heart race even faster. You could see the hunger still burning in his eyes, and you reveled in the power you held over him.

“Alright,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye as you settled back down, your fingers brushing against his skin as you moved closer. “Let’s help you out.”

“Wait, are you serious?” he stammered, half-excited, half-terrified. “I was kidding, really! You don’t have to—”

“Are you using your safe word?” you asked, removing your hands entirely just in case.

“No.” He said it with no hesitation, despite the fact he knew he’d suffer when he got on stage.

You smirked, taking in his expression as you pulled his boxers down just enough to expose him fully. “Good to know,” you teased, your voice a sultry whisper as you leaned in closer. You could see the conflict in his eyes—part of him was still reeling from what had just happened, while the other part craved more. You got down on your knees in the foot well, the tight squeeze making you physically uncomfortable, but you knew that teasing him like this would make up for it.

With a playful flick of your tongue, you leaned in to taste him, licking up the remnants of his climax. The salty sweetness sent a rush of heat through you, and you could feel your own arousal stirring again. The thrill of the moment, mixed with the taste of him on your tongue, was intoxicating.

“Shit,” he gasped, his body reacting to your boldness as he instinctively thrust forward, chasing the feeling of your warm mouth. You could see the desire flaring back to life in his eyes, the way he was getting turned on again making your heart race even faster.

“Like that, huh?” you teased, looking up at him through your lashes as you continued to explore, your tongue dancing over him in slow, tantalizing movements.

“God, yes,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper as he gripped the edge of the seat, struggling to keep his composure. “I can’t believe you’re really doing this…”

“Why not?” you replied, the thrill of teasing him making you bolder. “You said you wanted me to help. Besides, you’re the one who left me with a mess to clean up.”

He let out a low groan, the sound echoing off the walls of the van, and you reveled in the way you were making him feel. The way he squirmed beneath you, his body responding to your every touch, only added to the delicious tension between you.

“Just… just don’t stop,” he urged, his voice thick with need as he watched you, eyes dark with desire. “I don’t know how long I can hold out like this before I get hard again.”

You grinned, knowing you had him exactly where you wanted him. With each flick of your tongue and gentle caress, you could feel him getting closer, the heat radiating from him undeniable. “You’re going to have to deal with it,” you replied playfully, your voice teasingly sweet as you continued to work your magic.

His breath hitched, and he thrust his hips forward again, losing himself in the moment as he surrendered to the sensations. “You’re killing me,” he gasped, a mix of pleasure and desperation lacing his tone.

“Maybe that’s the point,” you replied, enjoying the power you held over him as you took him deeper into your mouth, savouring every moment, every gasp that escaped his lips.

You relished the taste as you cleaned him up completely, swallowing every last drop. The thrill of it sent a jolt of satisfaction through you, and you couldn’t help but suck him a few more times, coaxing him back to hardness. Each movement was deliberate, teasing, as you reveled in the power you held over him.

“Fucking hell,” he gasped, his voice a mixture of awe and desperation as he felt himself respond to your touch. “You’re incredible.”

But just as you felt him begin to swell beneath your lips, you suddenly pulled away, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. You licked your lips, savouring the taste one last time as you glanced up at him, the bewilderment written all over his face.

“Wait, what?!” he exclaimed, the realisation hitting him as you drew back, leaving him hanging on the edge of pleasure. “You can’t just stop now!”

You laughed, the sound light and teasing as you straightened your clothes. “We’ve run out of time, baby.”

With that, you slipped out of the van, leaving him there, half-hard and utterly bewildered. The excitement of what had just happened lingered in the air, a charged reminder of the intimacy you’d shared.

As you stepped out into the festival grounds, the music thumped in the distance, a stark contrast to the heated moment you’d just shared. You could still feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the thrill of your little escapade bringing a wide grin to your face.

Behind you, you could hear Mary calling after you, his voice a mixture of frustration and amusement. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

You turned to look back at him, the sight of him still flustered and trying to compose himself only made you laugh harder. “See you from the crowd!” you called back, waving cheekily as you made your way into the crowd, excitement bubbling in your chest as you mingled with the festival-goers.

Prev./Next

[gravehags]

smitten by the blackest force

Pairing: Mary Goore x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: witch reader, cemetery sex, deals with the devil, rough sex, devil's marks, mary goore being some kind of supernatural being...?

Words: 2,861

Summary: If this is your Mephistopheles well...just call you Doctor Faustus.

a/n: mary please return my calls i desperately need to get fucked in a cemetery. mary are you there? mary?

~~~

You like this cemetery.

It’s old. Quiet. Set back in the oak trees off the dirt road with ivy entwined in the wrought-iron fencing. You liked to come here often - even on the occasions where you weren’t conducting rituals - sometimes packing a sandwich and an Arizona tea and just sitting on the grass - keeping the spirits whose names have long worn off the headstones company. You’ve never seen anyone else visit but somehow the grass is always trimmed back, never overgrown. Even the local teenagers don’t fuck with this place, your little hideout, and for that you’re extremely grateful. There are some rumors among the townspeople about devil worshippers in the area but considering the questionable nature of your own practice, you aren’t too worried about them (if they even exist at all.) 

Right now you’ve got a blanket spread out to sit on, a knitted shawl around your shoulders, and your various bottles and crystals surrounding you. You hauled out a few camping lanterns from your car to keep the spot well-lit as the sun dips down below the forested horizon. Sighing you lay back against the blanket beneath you, breathing in the evening air and the quiet.

Snap.

The sound has you shooting up, clutching your shawl and eyes darting. The only thing you can hear is the sound of nature around you - crickets and cicadas. You open your mouth with the intention of asking if anyone is there before you promptly close it, thinking better of it. You’ve been out here at night before - countless times - and never encountered anything sinister but you’re not stupid and inviting anything in. Besides, you think as your shoulders sag, it was probably an animal. You scoot back on your blanket until your back is flush with the tall mossy headstone behind you, feeling more secure with its protection. A few minutes pass and you yawn, watching the blink of fireflies in the distance. You slump against the stone, and you feel so cozy and content as your eyelids slide close you only vaguely register the low chuckle coming from somewhere behind you. You’re in the beginning stages of drifting off when a teasing whistle winds its way through the gravestones. You jolt upwards, head whipping around but neither seeing nor hearing anything. That is, until a soft tsk-ing sound comes from behind you and you watch as thick, beat-up boot soles stroll into your line of vision. You crawl away from the person, heart thundering in your chest and your anxiety thrumming through your veins reminding you that you’re probably going to die. When the figure stops at a nearby tall headstone and leans back against it, crossing their legs at the ankles, they speak.

“Kind of a shitty witch who falls asleep in a fucking cemetery,” they smirk, crossing their arms. Thanks to a nearby lantern you’re able to get a better look at them - skinny, but not tall, wearing torn up jeans and a ratty band shirt with the sleeves cut off. Most of their face is hidden by the messy black lock of hair that hangs down over their forehead but you swear they’re wearing some kind of face paint and was that…blood?

“Who the fuck are you?” you snap, eyes darting around for anything you can use as a weapon.

“Oh she’s a mean little thing,” they crow, pushing off the headstone and stepping towards you. The panic is really starting to set in and you wonder if you’d be able to make it to one of the lanterns and hit them in th–

“Relax, sweetheart,” they say, crouching into a squat a few feet from you, “if I wanted you dead you’d be dead one of the other dozen times I’ve seen you alone out here.”

Your blood runs cold as you remind yourself there are things worse than death.

“You’ve been watching me? W-where there’s never anyone around–”

“Forest is big,” they say casually, dropping to their knees and sitting back on their haunches. “Lots of spots between the trees. And I’m real quiet.”

All of this is…troubling information to say the least but their first words stand out to you.

“How did you know I’m a witch?”

They nod, large pale hands resting on their thighs.

“We’ve been watching you for a while. Kind of a…local weirdo in this area, aren’t you? Small town shit seems a little beneath someone like you.”

You snort.

“I like the quiet. And most people mind their fucking business out here. Sorry, did you say ‘we’ve’ been watching?”

“Oh yeah, y’know, the uh,” they bring their hands up to their head and make horns with their fingers, “devil worshippers.”

Huh.

Intriguing.

You scoot a little closer to them and notice the way their full lips twitch in a minute smile.

“The old folk of the town talk about you guys but I never gave it any credence. Thought it was just leftover Satanic panic horseshit from the eighties.”

“Mmm well,” they begin, “we’re not your typical uh…Satan worshippers. It’s kind of more of a big deal than that. Actually, a lot of a big deal.”

“Oh yeah?” There's something magnetic about this slender creature whose green eyes glint in the lantern light. While you’re not necessarily soothed by their presence you cannot deny that you are drawn in.

“Yeah,” they confirm, “I’ll tell you more about it later but uh, let’s talk about you, huh?”

“What about me?” you ask, some of your caution returning.

“Well we’ve seen what you do. Got eyes on you. And we’d like to offer you a place at the Ministry. Our practices aren’t so different, are they?”

No, you think to yourself, no they’re not. You’re no stranger to demon work and after all what is Lucifer but the demon to end all demons? And all your dealings with them have always led to successful rituals and outcomes.

“So what do I get out of it? And why didn’t you just come to my house or my work to ask me all this?”

The slightly sinister chuckle that comes out of them stirs something within you.

“Protection. Power. The ability to do whatever you want, whenever you want to. A home.”

That last one hits you hard but you stay silent.

“Are you interested?”

A moment passes.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I want to live deliciously or whatever?”

They tilt their head back and laugh, slapping their thighs with their palms.

“Haven’t told you how we seal the deal yet, sweetheart.”

“Oh? And that would be…?”

“A surprise. Which you’ll find out about when you answer my question. Are you in?”

You were supposed to be charging your crystals in the moonlight and collecting cemetery dirt tonight, not making a fucking deal with the Devil. But, you think as you look at the figure eyeing you intently, everything happens for a reason.

“Yes. Yes I’m in.”

They give you a wide, sharp grin.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down, gorgeous. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”

Before you can ask what they mean, they’re crawling towards you like some kind of spindly cryptid. You’d be lying if it didn’t arouse you even as you back up against a headstone with nowhere else to go.

“C’mon sweetheart,” they purr, wrapping their fingers around your ankle. “Time to give the Devil his due.”

You yelp as they yank your body towards them, their hand sliding along the curve of your calf and up to your knee. 

“And you’re the Devil are you?” you breathe, watching them slither up your body and settle between your legs.

“Me? Nah. I’m just the poster guy who gets to reap all the rewards.”

“And what do I call you?”

They lean in to inhale deep at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and you have to bite back a moan.

“Wanna know what name you’ll be screaming out tonight, huh?”

“Think pretty highly of yourself,” you murmur, bringing a hand up to drag your fingernails along their back. When they growl and grind their denim-covered cock against you, you grin.

“You’re awfully mouthy, aren’t you?”

“Thought you wanted to hear my voice?”

They’ve got their hands on the hem of your shirt, fingers grazing the skin of your belly, when they look at you with a wicked smile.

“Take this off before I rip it off,” they growl, raising the fabric insistently. You gleefully acquiesce, watching their eyes boggle as your bare breasts sway in front of them. Leaning back on your elbows you blink innocently up at them, watching their tongue dart out to smear the paint near their lips.

“Fucking finally,” they grouse before falling upon you and taking your pebbled nipple in their mouth. 

“You–ah–never answered my question.”

They slide off your breast and grin up at you.

“Call me Mary.”

There’s no softness in their attentions, all hard sucking and teeth nipping but fuck if it isn’t exactly what you need. It’s been a while - much longer than you’d like to admit - ever since you moved to this podunk little town. The selection wasn’t exactly uh, bountiful. You’ve got your head tilted back as they suck pretty dark bruises into your flesh but when they give your unattended nipple a sharp pinch your eyes fly to theirs.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart. Want you to remember exactly who fucked you this good.”

You laugh.

“Haven’t done any fucking yet, have you? I’m withholding my judgment.”

Instantly, they pull away and sit back on their haunches.

“You little bitch,” they crow with a crooked grin, “Oh you’re gonna be fun to have around.”

You’ve propped yourself up once more, watching Mary as they rub the bulge in their jeans.

“Drooling a little, huh baby?”

Maybe. But you’ll be damned if they know it.

“Yeah, out of boredom. Are you gonna sit there rubbing one out all night?”

They squeeze their cock, grinning down at you.

“Maybe I should fill your mouth instead of your cunt? Stuff you so full of me you’ll really be drooling. I’ll shut you up then, huh?”

You’re not totally opposed to the idea but the ache between your thighs needs attention before any other extracurricular activities occur.

“I’ll be good–” you say, reaching down to wiggle your joggers and underwear off your hips. When the heat of you is exposed to their gaze, you slide your fingers between your folds to gather the slick that has accumulated. Satisfied, you raise your hand to your mouth and slowly slide the digits between your lips onto your tongue, “--I promise.”

Mary’s panting now, the heavy rise and fall of their chest hypnotic as they drink you in. They’ve still got their hand to their bulge, lazily squeezing their cock through the fabric. Suddenly their fingers are viciously unbuttoning and unzipping their pants and you both sigh as they take their cock out. It’s a pretty thing, all red and swollen and dripping, and you know it’s going to look even prettier inside you. They stroke it, smearing the pre down the shaft with their lips curled into a grin.

“That’s all it takes to make you pipe down? A nice dick?”

“Who said anything about it being nice?” you say, but your breathy tone gives away your true feelings. They look altogether too pleased with themselves as they scoot forward and drag the tip through your wet folds. When they nudge your clit with the head your hips buck up and you whine.

“Now that’s more like it,” they smirk, pressing against your entrance. “Beg for it,” they snarl, pushing in the tip.

“Fuck Mary, please. I need it, need your fucking cock to fill me up, please, please, please.”

They laugh, the sound jarring in the near darkness.

“Damn, could’ve stopped at the first ‘please’ but you sounded so pretty doing it, think I’ll give you an extra good ride tonight.”

You’re about to say something caustic but before the words can even leave your mouth, they slam their cock into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. True to their word, they set a brutal pace, gripping your thighs and eyes flicking between your bouncing breasts and where they disappear inside of you.

“B-been awhile, huh?” they pant, hips snapping into yours. “Almost like you’ve been w-waiting for me. Saving it up.”

You don’t have it in you to be snarky anymore, too stuffed dumb. So you nod frantically.

“Mmhmm,” you whimper, “all for you Mare, fuck right there.”

“Shoulda done this weeks ago,” they growl, “Instead of jerking off in the–augh–fucking woods. Never–fuck–never thought you’d be so easy.”

You’re not sure if they mean your deal with the Devil or the fucking but honestly you can’t bring yourself to care about anything right now that isn’t their cock pounding into you at a furious rate. They’re relentless, wrenching noises out of you you didn’t even know you could make. When they drag their hand to where you’re joined and dip a thumb in to rub at your clit your body arches off the grass.

“Fuck, Mary!”

“Know you’re close,” they grunt, “can f-feel you. Come on baby, let go. Give yourself to me. Give yourself to Him.”

The entire situation - the damp slide of the grass under your fingertips, the thick night air, the deal you just made, the cock currently hammering inside you - hits you all at once and your hips spasm.

“Don’t stop, Mare, please holy fuck yes, right there.”

Your hands fly to your breasts, cupping the weight of them and viciously pinching at the taut buds, making your lover groan and their hips stutter against you.

“C’mon yeah, play with those pretty fuckin’ tits, sweetheart. Oh fuck.”

You’re clenching around them now as they frantically rub at your clit and piston in and out of you, your moans increasing in volume and pitch. You feel as if you’re levitating, mouth hung open in a silent scream as you come undone, chanting their name.

“That’s it baby,” they snarl, gritting their teeth, “Cum for me, cum all over this cock–ah!”

You’re still riding your own high when you feel their cock twitch inside of you, flooding you with their seed. Their hoarse moans nearly send you into your second orgasm and your eyes slide shut, enjoying the feeling of them emptying inside you when–

They’re gone.

You heave a gasp as if taking a breath after being held underwater, hands flying to the ground beneath you. Mary’s gone–just fucking…gone. The only remnant of them currently dripping out of your used cunt onto the grass. You’re trembling while simultaneously being flooded with warmth as if you’ve been overcome by an awful fever. You ease yourself onto your side and curl into a fetal position, watching a ladybug crawl over the stone next to you. You’re not sure how long you lie there, shivering in the dark, but when your mind finally comes to you see the rosy planes of dawn stretching out through the trees. With great effort you push yourself off the ground - using the headstone for stabilization - your knees nearly giving way when you finally manage to stand. Sluggishly, you pull your underwear and pants up and spot your t-shirt a couple feet away crumpled in a pile. All your little vials and crystals stand as silent witnesses to the depravity that occurred last night and you hastily snatch them up and pile them into your tote bag. Your mind is a haze - too much of a haze to gather the blanket and lanterns - so you stumble out of the gate and head towards your car.

You don’t remember driving home but when you push the door open to the old house you rent, you feel…filthy. You’re not sure if it’s from your encounter with Mary or something else but you know one thing - you desperately need a shower. Your bags get dropped in the living room and you mechanically strip as you head to your bathroom. The shower is just what you needed - the firm stream of scalding hot water on your hair and body rejuvenating. When you step out into your steamy bathroom, you let out a deep sigh. The further you got from the events of last night the more they felt like some kind of wild dream, and you would be content to convince yourself of this were it not for the purple bruises peppered across your breasts that you spotted in the shower. You drop your towel and pad out into your bedroom to look for something clean and comfy to wear when you walk past your full-length mirror and stop dead in your tracks. There’s something on you - you think maybe it’s a tick or mud - so you turn the bedroom light on. High on your thigh, right in the center is a perfectly round mark, the size of a pencil eraser.

You don’t have any birthmarks.

Your stomach floods with panic and you fall to your knees on the rug, still naked and damp.

There’s a knock at your door.

[kissingghouls]

Last X-mas (Part One)

Mary Goore x f!Reader

Summary: A shitty xmas party brings you and Mary a little closer. (900 words)(Part One takes place before Winter Chill and Part Two takes place after the other More Goore stories ♥) tags: prequel kinda?, more Goore '24 universe, he/they Mary. warnings: Mary's a little depressed, Reader's boyfriend is an asshole, manipulative behavior. (These things are barely there, but I want everyone to be safe ♥)

Note: Mary anon, your prompt is also included in part 2. I got carried away tbh. ♥ soft Mary forever.

There was nothing worse than a bad party. Scratch that. There was nothing worse than being stuck at a bad party. But there Mary was leaning against a wall at Chaos House, stuck and not having any fun. The living room was full of people in ugly sweaters despite the intense heat being created by said idiots writhing in the tiny space. A poorly decorated artificial tree stood in the corner bent at an odd angle because no one ever properly stored the thing, they just tossed it down the basement stairs when its time was up. Around him, people were having a great time laughing and dancing. But his beer was warm, his mood was sour, and he couldn’t help thinking he wasn’t supposed to be here. 

As much as he loved his friends, watching them all dance to blast beats over that George Michael song wasn’t enough to distract him from all the shit that had gone wrong that year. That shitty relationship. The even shittier breakup afterward. That driver’s test mishap. That job offer in the city that fell through—the one that was supposed to get him out of this shitty little town. Part of him knows this was for the better somehow—that relationship was already beyond doomed, that job would have fucking sucked and he didn’t have a car anyway. But his mind still wandered through all the ways the next year could’ve been different if he wasn’t such a spectacular fuck up. 

They dragged themselves away from the party and slipped through the back door undetected. It was a moonless night and the light on the back porch had burned out at least a year ago, but Chaos House didn’t earn its name ironically and Mary didn’t really mind sulking in the dark alone. They dropped into a chair in a shadowy corner, lit a cigarette, and stared up at the sky. The universe carried on spinning and whatever momentary calm that and the nicotine had brought them was quickly undone by the sudden appearance of you. In all their pathetic self-loathing they hadn’t even realized you were at this party and that, for some unknown reason, made them feel ten times worse.

But there you were, adorable as ever, with sparkles in your hair and a weird Krampus on your shirt.

They sat up and opened their mouth to speak as you passed, not wanting to scare you by being a creep in the shadows. But you marched straight past, heavy boots stomping like you were on an angry mission. Like you were escaping and you couldn’t get away fast enough. You were halfway down the steps before the door flew open and your shitty boyfriend appeared. He crossed the deck without noticing Mary and quickly caught up to you.

“Why are you being like this?” he hissed as he caught your arm to stop you. “It’s not a big deal!”

You whipped around with fire in your eyes and pried yourself free of his grip. It was obvious now that you’d been crying and the more you tried to get away from the guy, the more Mary could tell you were drunk. On unsteady feet, you managed to back out of his reach, mumbling as you swiped at your face and smeared your makeup even more. 

“Not a big deal?” you asked through gritted teeth. “You’re such a fucking asshole.”

Mary’s stomach sank. He leaned further into the shadows, embarrassed about overhearing such an intense and clearly private conversation. He never liked the guy and couldn’t give a fuck less about what happened to him, but you—god, you deserved so much better than this dipshit. 

“C’mon don’t be like that,” he groaned and reached for you.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you warned, stumbling back a few steps.

“God, you’re really going to act like this? It’s not a big deal—”

“If you say that one more time I’m going to kick you in the dick.”

“Whatever. You’re just mad because you’re drunk. Let’s go,” he ordered in an annoyed tone and tried to wrangle you back up the steps.

“Don’t touch me—”

“Hey!” Mary shouted as he stood. He rushed from his spot in the dark and leaned hard into your boyfriend, shoving him away from you. “She said don’t touch her.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, not you,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “Mind your own fucking business, Goore.”

“Nah, this is my business now, so why don’t you fuck off?”

“You know what? Fine. Why don’t you take her home since you love her so much. I’m fucking done,” he huffed and stormed off.

Mary stood silently, watching as the hulking shadow of your asshat boyfriend made his way around the outside of the house. Seconds later a car door slammed and tires spun, leaving you and him awkwardly alone outside.

He turned toward you and cleared his throat. “I…uh— “

“Don’t,” you begged quietly.

“Wasn’t gonna. You ok?”

“No,” you admitted shaking your head. “Why is he so…”

“I don’t know. Probably because he’s a dick.”

You sniffed hard and wiped the tears away with the back of your hand. “I wanna go home.”

His chest grew tight. The only thing you wanted at that moment was something he couldn’t really give you himself. “You want me to help you find a ride?”

“Nah, I’ll be ok.” You looked up at him with big, sad eyes. “Thank you, Mary.”

He shrugged. “It’s nothin’.”

“It’s something, Goore. Accept it.”

“Okay.”

You gave him a soft smile and a tiny wave before making your way back up to the house.

“Hey, uh…Merry Christmas or whatever,” he called after you.

You snorted and turned back to him. “It’s July.”

[ramblingoak]

Napping With An Outlaw

~ A special edition of Naps With Copia ~

For @da-rulah 💙 who requested a special nap with cowboy!Mary Goore

Mary Goore x Reader

While obviously not Copia this is similar to the Naps With Copia series. Just a nice soft nap with the cowboy!Mary Goore from my fic The Cardinal's Bride. You do not need to read that at all to enjoy this!

Warnings: Brief descriptions of blood and stitches, Mary is a terrible patient (and a tease), sfw, 1,400 words (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers!)

“What the hell, Goore?!”

You had finally finished with your shift in the saloon.  A long day of filling drinks and slapping hands away when they got too close.  All you wanted was to wash off and crawl into bed.  A bed that you had been daydreaming about for most of the day.  Except right now your bed was occupied with the last person you wanted to see.

Especially since they were bleeding everywhere.

“Hey there, sweetheart.”

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, Goore.  Why are you here?”  You took a few steps closer, your eyes widening a bit when you saw the gash on their head.  “And what the fuck happened?”

“Ran into an old friend.”  When you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him Mary sighed,  “We had a little disagreement.”

“I can tell.  So, why are you here ruining my sheets?”  Mary looked a little sheepish then, picking at a tear on their pants before looking back up at you.  “The pout isn’t gonna work on me, Goore.”

“What will?”

“Nothing.  I am tired.  Too tired to deal with you bleeding all over my things.  Get out.”

“Oh come on!  You owe me!”

“Like hell I do, remember a few months ago when you came crawling back here after running into that Cardinal guy again?”  Mary winced and became very interested in the hole in his pants again.  “You’re kidding me.”

“This time wasn’t my fault.”

“Uh huh.”  You sighed and took a few steps closer, reaching out to prod at the wound on Mary’s head.  They hissed and tried to jerk away but you grabbed their chin to keep them still.  “Stop being a baby.”

“Stop poking me!”

“Do you want my help or not?”  Mary finally relented, staying still and leaning into you a little bit.  “Thank you.  Geez Mary, did you get hit by a rock or something?”

“A frying pan.”

“A fry–you know what, I don’t wanna know.  Alright, lean back ok?  I’m going to go get some clean water and the sewing kit from the Doc.”  

You ignored Mary’s groan, quickly leaving your room and heading down the hall.  The Doc would be down at the tables this time of the night so it was easy to slip into his room and grab his kit.  After getting a job here it wasn’t long before you were helping out all over the place.  While the town was relatively quiet there still was the odd bar fight or even a random shoot out from time to time.  Enough action to warrant hiring someone just in case.

When you made it back to your room Mary was still on your bed.  For a moment you were frozen, worried that they had been hurt a lot worse than you had thought.  You dropped the kit and rushed over to your bed, your hands landing on Mary’s chest and shaking him.  Mary wasn’t yours by any means, you had no doubt Mary never had trouble finding a warm bed no matter where they were.  But that didn’t stop your heart from plummeting when you thought they might be gone.

It didn’t stop you from wishing things were different.

“Ow, ow, ow!  What the shit?!”  Mary shook themselves awake, immediately swatting at your hands to get you to stop shaking him.  “I am injured here!  You’re supposed to be fixing me, not making things worse!”

Pinching their nipple wasn’t something the Doc would recommend but hearing Mary’s indignant squawk was worth it.

“Just making sure you’re alive.”  

You smiled when Mary groaned and dropped back against the bed.  They had definitely been through the ringer, whatever had happened.  You couldn’t imagine an outlaw such as The Cardinal using a frying pan of all things, but you supposed anything could be a weapon in the right hands.  Mary was thankfully still when you began cleaning the wound on their forehead.  The blood was caked in their hair so you did your best to clean it without having a tub to dunk them in.

Maybe you could talk them into a bath tomorrow.

“That feels nice.”  They were practically purring as you let your fingers rub against their scalp, trying to avoid the gash.  It would definitely need at least a few stitches.  “I knew I came to the right place.”

“I’m glad you came here too.”  That got you a lazy smile, the one that had lured you into Mary’s orbit to begin with.  “Time for the stitches.”

Mary whimpered, clenching their eyes shut as you got to work.  The gash wasn’t that bad but you knew how vain Mary could be.  It would look a lot better after this and they’d certainly whine about it a lot less.  The whole thing was over in a few minutes and after tugging Mary into a sitting position you helped them out of their shirt to clean up the rest of them as best you could.

“Mmm, I knew you’d try to get me out of my clothes.”

“You caught me, Goore.  That’s what I wanted to do the minute I saw you in my bed.”

“Anything else?”  Mary grunted when you tugged on their boots, chucking them across the room so you wouldn’t trip on them in the morning.  Their pants were next and you groaned with the effort it took to tug the stupidly tight things off their legs.  “Well, sweetheart?”

Mary was grinning at you, the only thing covering them the sheet they had pulled over their lap.  It was an attempt at modesty you weren’t used to, typically Mary spent most of their time in your room naked.  Not that you minded but it was pretty obvious by the way Mary was squinting and the yawn they just let out that Mary was in no condition for anything but a thorough cuddle.

“Actually yeah, there’s one other thing I’d like to do with you.”  Mary kept the grin as you moved closer, their hands going to your waist when you got onto the bed next to them.  You leaned forward and pressed a kiss over the stitches before dropping a few more across their face.  The strength seemed to leave Mary’s body then and you wrapped your arms around their shoulders and tugged them back down onto the bed.  “Let’s take a nap.”

“That’s not very sexy.”

“Neither is having you bleed everywhere.”

“Not bleeding any more.”

“Yeah but it’s hard to kiss you when you’re yawning constantly.”

“Other things besides my mouth you cou–ow!  Fine!  Ok, ok I’m sorry.”  Mary let out a pained groan when you pulled your fingers away.  “Pinching an injured man, does Doc do that?”

“No, but he also doesn’t kiss his patients either.”  You reached down and pulled the blanket up over you both, your eyes trailing over Mary’s body as it disappeared underneath the fabric.  They had some new scars since you saw them last and you made a note to ask about them whenever Mary was feeling better.  For right now rest was the most important thing.  “Go to sleep Mary.”

“Hmm, I guess.”  They wiggled around in your bed, wrapping their arms around you and tugging you so your back was against their chest.  Mary’s breath ruffled the hair next to your ear making you shiver.  Their arms tightened around you in response and you couldn’t help but smile, letting yourself relax and enjoy the feeling.  “Will you be here when I wake up?”

Mary’s voice was muffled against so you turned your head to try and catch their eyes.  

“What?”  

Those gorgeous green eyes of his sluggishly opened and they gave you a lazy smile before repeating themselves.

“When I wake up?  You still gonna be here?”

“Of course, Mary.”  They let out a soft hum, tugging you back against their chest.  You felt their breath evening out as they began to fall asleep and while you were tired yourself you couldn’t help but tease them one last time.  “It’s my bed anyway.”

It was Mary’s turn to pinch you, quickly followed by his fingers digging into your sides and tickling you.  After you screeched trying to get away an unfortunately aimed elbow had him groaning and demanding mercy.  You turned in Mary’s arms, humming as you brushed their hair out of their face.  

“Terrible bedside manner.”

“My sincerest apologies, Mr. Goore.”  You kissed their pouting lips, their cheeks and their forehead until Mary settled down again, their breath evening out once more.  Right when you were on the edge of sleep yourself you smiled against Mary’s chest, murmuring a promise into their skin before sleep took you,  “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

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[ghulehunknown]

Hey everyone! I’m Elizabeth (:

My blog is strictly 18+! I write adult themes and I will always tag my posts accordingly. Sometimes it’s just fluff.

Requests are open! - fanfics, drabbles, headcanons, etc. I love hearing from you! Just a few things to note:

Typically I write Papa x Reader (either GN or F reader), but I am open to changing it up

I’ll write any of the Papas or Ghouls/Ghoulettes, but am most comfortable w/ Terzo x Reader or Copia x Reader

Topics I will NOT write include the following, but are not limited to: incest, beastiality, underage, non-con - I will update this list if I need to

DM me anytime! If I’m taking a while to respond or post, please be patient as I’m probably thinking of the best way to write the request.

I reserve the right to deny any request but please do not take it personally. Certain topics I may not write if I can’t find the inspiration or I’m uncomfortable, but generally I’m open to just about anything.

Enjoy!

🔞 The following list contains NSFW content. Minors DNI 🔞

Wintertime Smut Collection

XXXmas At The Ministry, a collaboration with @copias-sewer-rat, @molly-ghuleh, and @bupia

Naughty Presents (Primo) by @copias-sewer-rat

Ungrumpify Your Papa (Secondo) by @molly-ghuleh

Mistletoe’d (Terzo) by @ghulehunknown

Treasure Hunt (Copia) by @bupia

Papa Holiday Headcanons

Papa Valentine’s Day Headcanons

Vacation Full Length Smut and “The Note” (a continuation of Mistletoe’d) - coming soon!

“A Holiday Tail”

“A Rainy Winter”

Kinktober 2023

Day 1 - masturbation • Day 2 - Terzomega • Day 3 - blowjob • Day 4 - cunnilingus, fingering, worship • Day 5 - miniskirt rough sex, dom • Day 6 - soft dom, sweet sex • Day 7 - teacher/student, inexperience, praise • Day 8 - rimming • Day 9 - public sex, exhibitionism • Day 10 - spanking, fishnets • Day 11 - group sex • Day 12 - sub Copia, degradation • Day 13 - kissing HCs • Day 14 - period sex HCs • Day 15 - lovemaking HCs • Halloween - Vamperzo, period sex

Kinktober 2024

Day 1 - Mirror Sex

Papa Emeritus IV

“Do You Deserve It?” • “You Earned It” • Random Drabble • “Creature Comforts” • Undressing Copia Drabble • Mirror Sex

Cardinal Copia

“Cardi Confessions”

Terzo

“I Wanna Be Yours” (Terzomega) • “Preparation is Key” • “Papa’s Worship” • “Movie ’n Chill” • “Let’s Have a Satanic Orgy” • “La Notte del Vampiro” • “La Lezione di Lucifero” • “And He Sees Nothing Wrong With That” • “Mistletoe’d” • “One Missed Text”

Secondo

“Papa’s Punishment”

Primo

“Teach Me Tonight”

Papa Headcanons

Kissing/Cuddling • Period Sex/Comforting • Romantic Sex/Lovemaking • Sick Days • Mary Goore NSFW • Positions • Going Down (F Receiving) • Jealousy • Thanksgiving • Showering Together • Holidays • Valentine’s Day • Proposals • Waking Up Together • Aftercare

Ghouls

“A Holiday Tail” (Mountain) • “A Rainy Winter” (Rain)

Papa of Choice

“Caught by Papa” • “Tangled Sheets”

Gender Neutral

“I Wanna Be Yours” (Terzomega) • “Tangled Sheets” • “Papa’s Punishment” • Random Copia Drabble • “A Rainy Winter” • “Creature Comforts” • Undressing Copia Drabble

F!Reader

“Caught by Papa” • “Preparation is Key” • “Papa’s Worship” • “Do You Deserve It?” • “You Earned It” • “Teach Me Tonight” • “Movie ’n Chill” • “Let’s Have a Satanic Orgy” • “Cardi Confessions” • “La Notte del Vampiro” * “La Lezione di Lucifero” • “And He Sees Nothing Wrong With That” • “Mistletoe’d” • “A Holiday Tail” (Mountain x AFAB) • “One Missed Text” • Mirror Sex

[emeritus-fuckers]

OH WAIT!

Hear me out... Repugnant and letting reader top/dom for the first time??? What do they like when the roles are switched?

Repugnant being topped by their s/o for the first time

Mary Goore (they/them)

Bottom in denial.

It's not so much that they think they're a top, they're just convinced they're much more top leaning than they actually are, while they're much better at bottoming.

Basically, this bitch lets you do pretty much anything you please.

They like it rough. Actually, they love it rough. You can literally abuse them and they'll love it.

Honestly, do absolutely anything to them, but the meaner you are, the better.

They'll thrive in it. They're a complete fucking masochist.

In denial about their need for aftercare, but they'll go with it if that's what you want.

DD Sars (he/him; fwb, not s/o)

You either took him by surprise, managed to turn a situation around completely when he was teasing you or managed to get him really needy.

Either way, this bitch will be so in denial it's frustrating.

He's so unnecessarily aggressive it doesn't make sense, honestly.

Even meaner than he is when he tops.

Either rail him stupid or be painfully soft and sweet, and you'll get him in tears.

He's very clingy for an hour or so afterwards.

Will deny it if you even dare bring it up. Will also get very pissy if you try to leave too soon.

G. Grotesque (he/him)

Honestly, he prefers it this way.

He likes feeling loved and cared for.

Soft dom this man. He will melt completely.

And tear up, muttering about how much he loves you with the cutest pouts and whimpers.

Hold his pretty face and tell him how well he's doing.

He's the sweetest sub imaginable.

Be nice to him. Give him all the kisses.

He's gonna be so adorably clingy afterwards, you'd have to be a heartless monster to not love him.

G.'s the type of person you can never really get enough of. You always end up coming back, even if just to hang out.

E. Forcas (he/him)

He really trusts you for this to happen.

He likes in gentle. He's only not gentle when it comes to his drums. He's a beast when it comes to his instrument.

But in bed and in a relationship, he's a complete softie. He's awkward, but a sweetheart.

He won't admit it, but he'd love it if you were gentle and maybe... just maybe, possibly dabble in body worship just a tiny little bit...?

He likes being kissed all over, it's something that G. does when he notices that E.'s tired.

This man is the softest service top usually. Give him the same treatment he gives you.

He deserves the love. Give him all the love.

Yes, I have a favorite.

~

Written by Nosferatu.

Taglist: @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @callmeicaro @thecuriouss @thermodynamic-comedian @vampyrolesbos

[angellayercake]

Ghost Fandom Fic Recs

This is such a great idea @ghuleh-recs thank you so much tagging me in yours and saying such lovely things about Banchetto!

I must say this is by no means an exhaustive list of the writers I admire but on digging through my tags and my AO3 bookmarks these are the ones that had my giggling and kicking my feet all over again

And this is getting really long so I'm am going to try to limit myself to one fic per amazing person 💜 haha I failed so hard at that you are all too talented.

@ghostchems I actually gobble up everything chems writes like a greedy little gremlin and I love her OCs as much as I love the Papas. But as I recently admitted I have been fangirling about her since before I was lucky enough to be her friend so Black Light Guides You is my go to for many reasons. It's got the signature horny/horror Chems blend as well as our boy getting resurrected and taking back his rightful position. I love how Terzo and Marion's relationship develops and I am so excited about where they are headed in the ongoing sequel A Perpetual Rise. And then Burn with me!!!! I came for Dracopia and stayed for Mia.

@ramblingoak The Queen of AUs if you want a Papa in any kind of situation Oak is the person you need. If I start talking about The Cardinal's Bride I will actually never shut up and Oak suffers enough word vomit about it from me so I will stop there. But I will say Oak is an incredible all rounder. Every thing she writes it is great and there is something fantastic for everyone. Sexy Cardinals, Mary Goore, Vibrating Pants, Ghaseball, Rat Birthday Parties or Zombies have at it!!

@the-hole-in-terzos-shoe No matter what the scenario Shoe writes the most romantic, charming Terzo you will ever read. I was going to rec the incredible My Dirty Little Secret and Let's get these heels off... which was inspired by our mutual love of Vita deVoid's Terzo but then she dropped Intro to Romantic Literature yesterday and I haven't been able to stop thinking about Professor Terzo so just go read both.

@sucharide If you want to read about some of the darkest depravity written in the most beautiful poetic way you could ever imagine then Roach is the writer for you and A Problem of Mind and Body is the perfect example. But my personal favourite and the first I read I think is Ritual and Ruination a silly and sexy look at the consequences of rituals gone wrong. And who am I kidding I can't not put Poor Beast in the Catacombs on here.

@zombiequeenblog I tell everyone who will listen to me about Cardinal Copia: A Sadistic and Glorious Bastard. It was my first Dark Copia fic and still to this day my favourite Copia characterisation. He is such a well rounded full character in this and I can't get enough. It's hot, it's emotional, it's scary at times but I can count on my hand how many couples I am as invested in and these two are at the top of my list. The world building is incredible, this version of The Abbey is so vibrant and all the side characters are so fleshed out. I have an especially large soft spot for Terzo in this fic he is the perfect dramatic flirt and I would give anything to be one of his girls.

@honeyynymphh Reading anything by Missy is like reading a gothic horror classic. The way she builds atmosphere is second to none a little nightmarish, a little maudlin (good golly go get this kid some laudanum!) is such a great example. And another one of my favourite Copia characterizations especially in The Mark of the Beast, Freshly Squeezed and my personal favourite there’s total depravity (standing right in front of me) he is so mean and I love it so much.

@kissingghouls SUCK CLUB!! I can't possibly decide which one of these is my favourite. I love this whole universe. There is so much going on and I can't wait to get to the bottom of the ongoing vampire mystery. I love how they all interact and I love that the all read The Cardinal's Bride! The Count, The King, and The Prince and I just love them all!

@xfilesinamajor With Wandering Steps and Slow This Terzo!!! This one right here is my favourite, god this fic breaks my heart but it is so so so perfect. His self esteem, his natural charm as a defense mechanism god I am obsessed with it. Also The Peach is one of the hottest ghost fics I have ever read. The ghoullettes really need to get more action, especially if it's like this

@writingjourney Everything Ibi writes is just so perfect. The slow burn of Honey and Venom and Unprecedented have me on the edge of my seat. But I have to especially urge everyone to read Friday Nights at the Cinema Club because if you aren't a Primo fan you are wrong and this will show you exactly why. Like I said, perfect!

@sweatandwoe I am always impressed with the ideas that sweaty comes up with. Really fun and original and hot. These assorted drabbles and headcanons are an excellent place to start. Study Break is so incredibly hot and The Sacrifice was a real highlight from petrifying papas. I also can't rec sweaty without mentioning the Saren fics because WOW. If you have any interest in Mass Effect and Turians then you have to read Overflow and Melting Point

@inkstainedrat Lacrimis et Memorias This fic broke my heart and put it back together again. It is the definition of bittersweet and yeah. I have a lot of feelings about Terzo and this story pokes every single one of them and is another one that stays with me.

@violet-lazer Another one of my favourite Terzo writers, in Pride, Incumbent and Astronomy he is so charming and lovely. Also Terms of Engagement Copia is such a cutie

@whatawonderfulexistence--blog Distractions is a lovely first date with Terzo and then Strawberries because i do love when he is being all seductive. Also I'm not fully caught up with Powerwolf yet but Atone was so HOT

@hallowed-be-thy-username Kissing the Obscene was the Terzo fic I ever read and Please Papa was the second and I just keep going back to them. I had started to fall in love with Terzo already but reading these and all the others really sealed the deal. And also coincidentally one of my favourite papa cosplayers!!

[inkrabbit]

Mary Goore

You're almost surprised when she calls out their name. You knew Mary. Hell, you know their band and had even joined them for a tour, helping move equipment.

Your heart raced as you watched him sit up, a mischievous grin on his face. They said goodbye to their bandmates and sauntered over to you, playfully taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips, lightly kissing your knuckles.

"Shall we?" You hold his hand, following him to the storage closet. Mary's always been a flirt, especially to you. You wrote it off as harmless, friendly fun in the past but now that you're alone with them, in such a small, cramped room, you can't help but feel anxious. Your heart refused to slow down as the door shut, engulfing you both in darkness, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks when Mary's breath wafted against your skin. He smells like the bar and cigarettes. That's not too surprising since you're sure their shift had just ended before they came to the party. What was surprising was the hint of cologne. It wasn't strong and you can only assume they put it on to try and mask the smell of alcohol. In fact, if you remembered correctly, this was the same cologne DD wore.

"Sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable?" Mary's soft voice cuts through the silence, pulling you out of your thoughts. You notice how he shuffles back, letting out a soft grunt when you hear the unmistakable sound of him bumping into the metal shelves.

"It's okay," The words tumble out of your mouth and while you would never verbally admit it, you miss them being so close to you. "I just... didn't think we would get paired."

"Is that a bad thing?" Mary's voice is playful but there's an underlying sound of hurt to it. Of course it's not a bad thing. You had liked him ever since you met him.

"Of course it's not. I was worried I would get paired with someone I didn't like," you explain. Even though it's dark in the storage room, you can practically see the grin that spreads across their face.

"Well, I've never played this before," he tells you, taking his time to explain, like he's worried about pushing any potential boundaries. "but I've heard what happens in here. Is that... something you'd be interested in?"

You hesitate, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You give a shy nod, only to stammer out a verbal response when you remember Mary can't see in the darkness. "Y-yeah. I am."

It takes a few seconds but you feel lithe fingers on you, a hand cupping your cheek as the other gently holds onto your shoulder as you're pulled in. Their plush and chapped lips brush against yours, almost hesitant, and you lean in further, kissing him fully. Their hands stay where they are and you move yours to gently cup their face as well, feeling the prickle of stubble beneath your touch.

The kiss isn't what most people would expect from a punk like Mary. It's not hungry or aggressive. There's no knocking of teeth or their tongue shoving past your lips to get inside your mouth. In fact, the kiss is slow and gentle, both of you taking this time to get used to each other. You're surprised with how sweet Mary is being. Even when his arm circles your waist and pulls you closer, he leaves some room between you two so you're not pressed against him. You take initiative and press your body against theirs, feeling the warmth of their body against yours.

When the door opens and light floods in, Mary is reluctant to pull away, their signature scowl cementing itself on his face.

"Times up." Of course it is. Surprisingly, Mary keeps a firm hold on your hand, pushing past the woman and escorting you back over to his bandmates. They just give you a smile, softly greeting you as you take a seat in Mary's lap, feeling their arms embrace you. They're still being gentle but it's clear you won't be leaving their side anytime soon.

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

𝐈 𝐒𝐚𝐰 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐬

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 After you fall ill, Mary takes on the role of being the Ministry Santa for this year. What you don't expect, however, is to find yourself kissing Santa at the end of it 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩(𝐬) Mary Goore x M!Reader 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 Suggestive content (18+ only, MINORS DNI!!!), kissing, making out, grinding, Mary dressed up as Santa Claus, Santa's Grotto, mentions of Copia dressing up as Santa 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1443 words 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 I once again have Mary brainrot. This was written more for me than anyone else because mental health is a bitch and I just need some Mary content for comfort 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 𝐓𝐢𝐩 𝐉𝐚𝐫

Every year, for as long as you’ve been living at the abbey, you’ve volunteered to play Santa for all the Ministry children. Each year, you and your fellow siblings of sin would band together to buy the kids soft toys and treats that you would hand out all while dressed as Santa and giving the role your all. Seeing the children’s eyes lit up as they gazed up at you with excitement in your red suit and scratchy white beard made not taking part in the other festivities around the abbey worth it, especially when you’d give them a small gift supplied by one of the Papas. This year, however, is going to be different, though not out of choice.

Mary Goore is taking on the role.

Had either of you had the choice, you would still be playing Santa and bringing joy to the kids in the ministry’s care. Unfortunately, this would not be the case this year thanks to the current sickness making the rounds. Mary, thankfully, tended to never get sick because of their… unusual nature. You, on the other hand, were currently nursing mug after mug of hot lemon tea with honey in an attempt to soothe your throat and try to get your voice back. Instead of the deep, booming voice you had perfected over the years for your Santa act, you could only manage to get a few words out before painful coughing fits took over. As such, Sister Imperator had decided that it would be better for your health to rest your voice and hand the responsibility of playing Santa to a sibling of your choice.

Finding someone to replace you who you trusted to do the role justice had been difficult. Everyone that you thought would be ideal to stand in for you already had plans or were busy organising other festive events for the Ministry. Even Copia, who would normally jump at the chance to entertain the children and bring them some happiness, had too much work to do that he couldn’t put off or relegate to someone else. There was only one person left that you could ask that you actually trusted could do a good job. Unfortunately, in a cruel twist of fate, that person also turned out to be your crush who you had been hoping to ask out on a Christmassy date seeing as you were being forced into taking a break from the Santa job.

“You think the kids will figure out it’s me?”

You glance up from your fifth mug of tea of the day and fight to keep your expression neutral. Who would have thought that seeing Mary Goore clad head to toe in the iconic Saint Nick outfit and fake, fluffy white beard would ignite various thoughts about letting him bend you over his knee? A few stray strands of inky black hair poke out from beneath the crooked hat on his head, piercing pea-green eyes cast down as he picks at the hem of the jacket. Without thinking, you move closer and straighten his hat, tucking the hair back in.

“I think they’ll be too excited to look too closely.”

“Really?”

Smiling, you begin to smooth down the crimson jacket. “They’ve never guessed that it was me when I’ve done it. You’ll do great.”

Mary hums. “Yeah, but you’ve always done it. You’ve had practice. I won’t be as convincing as you are.”

“True,” you reply, adjusting their beard. “But I wasn’t always such a Santa expert.” Hacking coughs cut off the rest of what you want to say and you turn your head to the side just in time. It’s only when the metalhead retrieves your tea from your table that you realise how close the two of you were just now and your face grows hot. If Mary notices, they don’t make any mention of it as they press the mug into your hands and encourage you to drink.

“Just promise me that if I do a bad job you won’t hold it against me.” Mary looks uncharacteristically self-conscious as they speak. “And maybe don’t tell Imperator if the kids figure out it’s me and start crying because the real Santa isn’t there.”

Chuckling, you nod in agreement. “Promise. Although honestly, Mare, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Those kids are going to be too preoccupied with the fact you’re giving them presents and talking to them.”

“Wait, I have to actually hold conversations with them too? This wasn’t part of the job description, I’m going to do so bad.”

***

As it turns out, Mary is doing amazing as the Ministry’s Santa.

Sure, the first day they’d been a little shaky as they got used to the role and figured out their own Santa voice. After that, however, they seemed to be a natural. They spoke to each child that engaged them in conversation like an adult and didn’t talk down to or patronise them once. Time was taken with each child so that they could get to know them as well as they could in one short conversation before handing them their gift, making each kid beam with joy and give them an experience they wouldn’t forget. Mary had even managed to get the iconic Santa laugh down and it seemed to just spill from their lips as if it were their own laugh and not one that had been practised and perfected specifically for the role.

It’s kind of hot seeing them so at ease with entertaining children.

On the third and final evening of playing Santa, the two of you find yourselves sat in the little grotto Copia and his ghouls had set up. The last of the children have already made their way back to their dorms, leaving you and Mary to start packing up and getting ready to retreat to your own room for a night of movies and pizza. That had been your idea as a way to thank the metalhead for stepping in and making the kids so happy and of course Mary wasn’t going to turn down the chance of a free meal and movies.

You’re the one to break the silence. “Thanks again for doing all of this. I know I kind of threw you in at the deep end.”

Mary shrugs. “It was actually a lot of fun. I can see why you do it every year, especially after seeing how excited all the kids were.”

The two of you stand up and start to tidy up the grotto ready for the ghouls to start packing it up at a later date.

“They weren’t the only ones who were excited. I heard a few of the siblings of sin gushing over how attractive they thought you were in that costume,” you tease, plucking a stray bauble from beneath the tree.

“Oh yeah?” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Maybe I should wear it more often.”

“Careful now. If you wear it too often I might have to wrestle it off you and take my job back.” You don’t realise what you’ve said until it’s too late, immediately turning to glance at him and gauge his reaction.

Mary smirks and steps closer, entering your personal space. “Think about wrestling me often, do you? I can’t say I’d be opposed to that.”

“R-really?”

“Mm.” You swallow as Mary’s gloved hands grasp your hips. “You don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me. I never wait, and yet here I am waiting for you.”

“Oh.”

Mary’s breath tickles your skin as they lean in closer. “Is this okay?”

You swallow, nodding silently.

“Use your words.”

“Kiss me, Mary.”

A groan rumbles in his chest as his lips finally meet yours, your mouths sliding against one another’s as your eyes flutter closed. Your hands rest on their shoulders, pulling them in closer before shifting to hold their neck and keep them in place. Bodies move closer until there’s no space between you, their bergamot and ambroxan scent invading your senses as their hands begin to crawl down to squeeze your ass. There’s a whimper as they push you up against the grotto wall that you realise a moment later came from Mary. You bite their bottom lip and suck it into your mouth, hips jolting and rubbing against theirs when they whine once again. You can feel the two of you growing excited, their clothed length hard against your own.

“Still want to wrestle this costume off me?”

“You know I do.”

Grinning, Mary takes your hand and eagerly pulls you in the direction of your room.

[da-rulah]

hey!! hope you’re doing well :) your writing always makes my day better and you are so immensely talented, i mean it!! 🥺❤️

if you’re feeling up to it i would love to hear your headcanons on mary goore with an insecure s/o regarding their looks/body. no rush or pressure:)

Hi lovely! Thank you, I'm doing alright. Could be better, could be worse, but that's neither here nor there. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Thank you so much, I'm so glad I can have a positive impact on someone's day 🥹

So Mary with an insecure reader, hm? Let's see what the brain rot builds...

NSFW 18+ MDNI!

TW/ No pronouns used but female genitalia referenced, blindfolding, talk of insecurities, body worship, fingering

You trusted Mary. Explicitly.

That's why you'd told him about your insecurities, told him you didn't mind if he wanted you to hide parts of yourself, to disguise your least favourite parts if he found them as repulsive as you.

What you hadn't expected, was to find yourself spread out in your underwear and the baggy shirt you'd thrown on that morning, blindfolded...

But still, you trusted him...

"You don't have to look at yourself if you don't want to..." he whispered into your ear, hovering above you, "but please... don't deny me the pleasure."

Your skin broke out into goosebumps, and if he hadn't been laying between them, your thighs would have pressed together in an attempt to find some friction.

Mary noticed your heart rate and knew he had to take this steady, to show you nothing but love - and of course, how fucking hot you made him...

He started by your ankles, planting kisses along the inside of both of your calves, your knees, reaching your thighs where his hands kneaded and squeezed at the flesh while his mouth worked to leave wet trails all over.

"Love these thighs... Fucking love that you could suffocate me between them if you wanted to..."

He avoided your core and instead brought his hands under the hem of the shirt you wore, roaming the bare skin underneath while his lips searched out any stretch marks you had, any moles or freckles, any scars, and marked them with a kiss.

He continued his ascent, his lips and hands roaming the soft expanse of your chest, paying close attention to your nipples as they stiffened under his touch.

Every sense was heightened with your vision hindered... his touch felt sensational.

You couldn't help the whimper that tumbled from your lips, and you felt Mary smirk against you.

He pushes your shirt higher, suckling at your collarbone while he reaches for your hairs, only to tangle them in his hair for you.

Involuntarily your hips rolled underneath him, pressing against him only to feel a familiar stiffness in his jeans...

"Feel that, baby? Feel what you fucking do to me?" he groaned against your neck. "Love every inch of you..."

Any hint of insecurity you had about your body had been wiped clean with the flick of his tongue.

"Mary, please..." you begged, for nothing in particular. He just chuckled beneath your ear, catching your lobe with his teeth.

"Tell me something you like about yourself..." he commanded, his voice low and yet somehow soft.

When you told him you didn't mind your thighs, he was between them in a flash.

"These thighs?" he asked, diving in again to leave open mouthed kisses to the soft flesh, casually nipping with his teeth every so often.

With an affirmative hum, he asked you for another, and subsequently focussed his kisses to wherever you told him you loved until you couldn't stand it any longer.

You told him you loved your core, hoping he might finally give you the attention you wanted.

Instead, he sat up onto his knees, his hands grabbing at your thighs. Suddenly, he dove his hand into your underwear, immediately shoving two long fingers inside you. All his teasing had you prepped and ready to take him.

"Oh, right here?"

The pleasure knocked the wind out of you and had your back arching off the bed.

"Mhm, right there..."

The way Mary worshipped you for the rest of the night, had you coming undone for him multiple times on his fingers, his tongue, toys and finally... finally... his cock...

Well, you'd never doubt how much Mary adored you and your body ever again.

[copiousloverofcopia]

HERE IT IS FINALLY! An update I know some of you have been waiting for, the next chapter of Under the Spell with Mary Goore and OC Piper!

I am trying my best to get back to regular posting with my fics since the holidays are now over and I appreciate everyone's patience and support!

Also once again, please be nice I am SO not used to writing for Mary, so I hope its ok!

Piper and Mary have been best friends since they first met as children. When Mary and her boyfriend Sid asked her to come along on gigs, Piper thought it was a no-brainer. But as the excitement of the buzzing amps dies down, she realizes she wants more—now if only she can get him to agree.

Chapter 3: Biting the Bullet

Also available HERE on AO3! Haven't started yet? Start from the beginning HERE!

Definitely NSFW below the cut

“Wait... what?” Mary said, grimacing as he flicked the fluids from his hand. The look of utter confusion, washing over him. Tilted his head like a puppy, waiting for Piper’s response. She took in a deep breath, trying her best to calm herself back down. Pacing around the floor a moment before finally bringing herself to sit down beside him. 

“I just…” she began, closing her eyes and trying her best to not lose her nerve before she continued. Facing out into the quiet unease of the hotel room. She was unable to look Mary in the eye. As the silence between them grew, so did the anxiety. Mary, hardly able to take it much longer. Deciding inside to break the silence himself, assuring Piper he was game regardless of what she might think.

“Listen, I am only doing this cause you asked me to. I want you to be happy. If that means we do this—then we do this. But if not… it really doesn't matter to me.” he explained. Piper still appeared unconvinced, the look on her face telling Mary that she was panicking on the inside. A look he had seen many times before when Piper was on the verge of a panic attack. 

Without even thinking he placed his hand over hers. Piper, trying to breathe through it when the gesture of kindness—gentleness allowed her to relax. Touched by this side of Mary, one she had rarely seen before.

“I know you say that but—” she began when Mary cut her off. 

“But what Pipes?” he asked. Piper turned to face him head on. Pulling her hand away as she snuffled back. Unsure if she wanted him to know how truly vulnerable she felt. 

“I just don’t want this to change things between us. You mean so much to me. I don’t want you to feel like this is something you have to do. I don’t want you resenting me over this if you change your mind Mare.”she admitted, the tears that had been beading up in her eyes, falling down her face. She and Mary were like family, it would kill her to have had this child but lose Mary in the process. 

“Pff…not gonna happen.” Mary laughed, “You're stuck with me.” 

“Yeah…” Piper laughed back through her tears. Mary, wiping them away. Streaking her cheek in black mascara. The two of them, locking eyes as Mary paused. He slowly pulled her towards him. Piper’s body became languid in his arms as he pulled her close. Bringing his lips to kiss her.   

The press of them felt different than the one before. Soft and intentioned in a way Piper had never experienced. Realizing in the moment that this was truly what she wanted. A baby—a baby with her best friend.

“Now, jump on baby girl and make me a daddy.” Mary said, smiling against her lips. Lifting her up and onto his lap. Never parting as the metal from Piper’s tongue ring teased and thrilled him. Sliding across Mary’s tongue as it danced in and out of their mouths.  

He allowed himself to grip a handful of her ass. Relishing the way his touch made her squirm—urged her to rock her hips against the swell of his groin. His cock twitching with the anticipation of stretching her out around him. 

“Mmm…” Piper moaned, feeling him beneath his jeans as the friction drove her crazy. Gliding herself against him and teasing her folds. Mary ran his hands up and over her thighs. Dimpling them as he allowed her to grind against him. Hot and heavy, longing for them to take it further. 

“Mmm.. fuck yeah.” Mary purred. His encouragement heated against her lips. His hands, leaving her waist to pull off her shirt. Undoing her bra with a surprising ease before kneading her breasts in his hands. Mary unable to control the impulse to drop his head to her pert pink tinged nipple. Wrapping his tongue around it before pulling it gently into his mouth. Satisfied to hear Piper’s wanton moans that resulted. 

Her body felt like it was set on fire. Piper, moving fast while she still had the nerve to pull his  cock out from his jeans. Mary, jolting up against her as her fingers made contact with his bare skin. Piper, stroking him gently and marveling at his girth. 

“Oh Mare.” she sighed, imagining him already inside her. Mary smiled smugly as she allowed him to slip into her hand.  

“That's right baby. I’m gonna use that to stuff your needy little pussy so full of my jizz.” he groaned, licking his lips in anticipation of her.  

“Mare!” Piper called out, the words sending a heat of embarrassment across her cheeks. While she knew he talked that way before. With or without being in the middle of sex, she had never been on the receiving end of it till now. 

“Just go with it.” He said, bringing his fingers between them. Moving back her hands to slip under her panties. Massaging her wet heat over and over with his touch as she continued to work him. “Cum for me baby.” He purred, feeling her dripping for him, “Show me how much you wanna ride this cock.”

“Mmmm…ah!” Piper cried out as his thumb made its way to her clit. Mary, swirling circles over the little nub with ease. Continuing to suck and lick on her nipples. Piper's head, falling back in pleasure.   

“Mmm… that's right baby.” He moaned, bringing his fingers back inside her, fucking her more fervently with his hand. Her juices, freely dripping from within her folds as Mary found her g-spot. Pressing into the sponge sensitive tissue with fingers, wishing so badly it was his cock. Within moments Piper began clamping down on his fingers, so tightly he could barely move. Her hips rolling with his movements—sending her over the threshold and cumming hard on his hand. 

“Oh fuck Mare…take me.” Piper moaned, her body tingling all over with the crest of her orgasm. Mary quickly pulled his fingers out, sucking them dry of her fluids. 

“Gladly.” he told her. Lifting himself up off the couch just enough to wiggle out of his pants. Piper, still straddling him as he used the remaining slick on his hand and precum to fully wet his cock. Pushing Piper’s panties off to the side before nudging her folds with the head of his cock.

“Ah! Yes!” Piper yelped as she felt him begin to push inside her having gathered up a generous amount of her slick before he reached her entrance. Mary, smiling widely as he shoved his full length of his aching cock inside her. 

“Ah…Pipes… Your pussy feels so good.” he groaned as she started to move on him. Riding him slowly. Rising and falling along his length. Her breast hovering in his face as he licked and nipped at them. 

“Mmm…” Mary cooed, bringing her nipple back into his mouth. There was nothing like the feel of Piper surrounding him. Her walls, pulling against him as he tried to withdraw. Holding tightly onto her hips now to steady her. Mary closed, overwhelmed by the feeling as he pushed inside her over and over. 

Already drunk in the warmth from inside her. His cock, pressing so deliciously against her delicate flesh. It was then that Mary wondered why he had never tired to fuck Piper before. Becoming slack-jawed and starting to pant the harder he thrusted up inside her. 

Piper had found her stride, bouncing gleefully in his lap. Her hands held tightly onto his shoulders as she stared into his eyes. Fuck, he is so incredibly sexy , she thought. Asking herself if she realized before today just how handsome he was? Her crazy, handsome childhood best friend. 

She could hardly believe she was there, in this moment with him. Feeling the euphoric high from being with him like this. So perfectly feeling together as her body began to shake. Piper, knowing instantly what was happening. Though it had never happened before with Sid, it had certainly happened when she was on her own. 

“Mare… I think I'm going to….” Piper cried, feeling her insides begin to buckle down on him. Her body flooded with emotion and pleasure as her orgasm came tearing through her full force. 

“Ah fuck!” Mary growled, her cunt squeezed him tightly all around. Forcing him to burst inside her. Spilling ropes and ropes of cum. Mary filling her full of everything he had to give. 

It had felt like It was over so fast that Piper could hardly believe it had happened at all. Both of them, so blown away by the sensations between them that neither could sustain the momentum for long. Mary laid back on the couch. Pants still at his ankles and his spent cock, covered in the efforts between them, unabashedly on display. 

“Hey… what do you think about us splurging a bit more for a hotel room with a bigger bed next stop? Or at least a bigger sofa?” Mary chuckled as he slipped himself back beneath his jeans.

“I mean if you wanna spend the money, I wouldn’t say no. But It was kinda your fault we didn’t even make it back to the bed—” Piper yawned, smiling as her eyelids only grew more heavy. Curling up next to Mary on the opposite end of the couch. She was utterly exhausted. Finding herself unable to help the closing of her eyes and waking to having missed little bits of conversation between. 

Finally Piper succumbed to it, falling asleep so soundly that she had even begun to snore. Mary found it endearing. Allowing her to sleep while he went up to take a much needed shower. When he emerged from the bathroom sometime later, Piper was still sleeping away. Her face looking A gentle, relaxed look now on the most relaxed and peaceful Mary though it had ever seen. 

He smiled at her as he continued drying his hair. Grateful to see her looking so serene, even if it was in her unconscious state. They had both been through a lot in their lives. So much heartache and struggle. Mary could help but think, as he stared down at her, that if anyone deserves to get what they want it was Piper. 

Though he knew she would likely be mad, he decided against waking her. Instead, allowing her some much needed sleep. Ever the night owl and the insomniac, Piper was chronically tired and wore her raccoon-like dark circles like a badge of honor. Mary, smiling once again thinking about the future. 

If Piper had it her way, it would be many nights before she'd get a full 8-hours sleep again he thought. Mary planted himself on the recliner, opposite her in the room, and cracked open a cold one. Kicking up his feet on the coffee table and thinking about what might come of things. Watching her sleep with that smile still on his face.

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ.” Piper groaned, pissed at the abrupt loud car alarm. Blaring from somewhere outside and waking her from some incredible sleep. Reluctantly she decided to take a shower, scratching her head before trying to climb off the couch. Realizing that she was covered, unexpectedly, in the sheet from the bed. 

Mary was nowhere to be found as she scanned the room. “Mare?” she called out to him, but got nothing in response. Her eyes darted around in the darkness until she caught sight of a shining red light of an analog clock on the desk—a red 8:30pm on its face. 

“Oh fuck!” She shouted, darted upright. Running to the bedroom to get dressed. The show had more than likely already started and Piper couldn’t believe that Mary had just left her sleeping on the couch. She was angry, how could he leave her like that and not even say goodbye? Or at least come wake her up before they headed out? 

She began to wonder, if in his post nut clarity, he had regretted his decision. Sneaking out to leave her to go about his business without a second thought. Though Piper knew it was potentially too late now. Feeling the evidence of their tryst, leaking out on the inside of her thighs as he rushed around to grab her things.

Piper had left the room disheveled and upset. Rushing over to the venue without the courtesy of a shower, or even a ride over. Pissed that the rest of the band had agreed to leave her behind. Not that any of them would know what they had done—the only saving grace.

When she arrived, the smoke screen was ungodly. Piper opened the doors that led to a long walkway to the underground club. Hidden away like the dive bar that it was. The walls, covered in spray paint, remnants of band flyers, and god know what else. 

“Excuse me.” Piper said, trying to dodge through groups of half drunken clubbers who were just hanging out in the hall. Following the sound of the music, growing louder as she moved ahead.  Still fuming with Mary leaving her behind. His motive, still unclear.  

She thought, If Mary wanted to fuck and run, he could have at least done her the courtesy of telling. Explaining to her that this would be a one time thing. They weren’t in a relationship after all. It was only meant to be a favor, but damn if she wasn’t pissed that he had “wham, bam, thank you ma’am’d” her. Piper, beginning to feel silly—and stupid for having even considered it. 

By the time she had made it inside the club, Repugnant was already on stage. The whole band thrashing about as Mary howled and screamed out the lyrics. The sounds of the guitar and the bass, heavy and harsh as they rushed from the speakers and over the crowd. Patrons, moshing and headbanging with full gusto. Crowd surfers, racing high above all the heads in the pit. 

Piper doing her best to get as close as she could to the stage. Watching Mary as he played his guitar, knowing personally just how talented those fingers really were. Mary too could see her. His Piper, standing out looking a bit mad as she tried making her way closer. Stuck in the limbo of the middle of the crowd. 

Mary, gazing at her through the hair sticking to his face. HIs locks, already drenched in sweat and blood. She was trying to navigate through towards the stage. Mary, feeling a bit nervous as he watched. Wondering to himself for the first time if it was even safe for her to be there. Shaking it all off after realizing how crazy it was to be concerned about a possible crotch goblin when they had only just fucked. Continuing the show without a second thought. 

“Hey Piper! Over here!” Annie called out, catching her attention. A small spot, just before the barrier, was saved for her. Annie was great and Piper was grateful to her. Though she was relatively new to their crew, it was great just to have another woman on the road with them as far as Piper was concerned. 

Annie and Tom had only been together for a short time, but already things seemed to be moving quickly between them. Piper, wondering if they would end up married before the end of the tour dates. Feeling a bit jealous at Annie and Tom’s happiness—long before her decision to try with Mary. Their behavior around one another, opening her eyes to the serious and irreconcilable differences between Sid and herself. 

Annie was also so beautiful, which didn’t help Piper’s jealous streak. Having long blonde hair that was not natural of course, but perfectly bleached and styled on the regular. Her aesthetics, like Debbie Harry—the quintessential 80s bombshell with the perfect ruby red lips. Quite different from Piper’s style. Her goth, grunge vibes and nerdy cat eyeglasses made Piper a bit self conscious sometimes about her appearance. 

She felt at times like she couldn’t even compare. Still, despite her superficial jealousy, Piper had come to adore Annie. Hoping that nothing bad would ever tear her and Tom apart or she might really be on her own. 

“Thanks chick!” Piper yelled back so that Annie could hear her. Annie, holding up a thumbs up as Piper continued to move towards her. Finally, she was able to make it beside her, the two of them watching the band perform. Annie hollering and screaming anytime Tom went off on his drums. Normally a behavior Piper would have done the same, but tonight the mood just hadn’t hit her. Her mind was too hung up on the situation between her and Mary to think of anything else. Only the worry about unsaid things and the fear of answers to questions she hadn’t yet thought to ask. Hoping that what had happened between them wasn’t a mistake. 

[shesinshambles]

If you are taking requests I would love a story with Mary Goore involving some road head and them returning the favor. :-]

Hello anon! Sorry how long this one took, But here you are! 18+ under the cut!

“Told you we should have left earlier.” Mary grumbles something under their breath in response, the steering wheel squeaking as they tighten their grip on it, knuckles going white. “What?”

“I said you were right,” they muttered. You sigh, peering out the window. You’re barely crawling along, stuck in a tight bottleneck. The one time you and Mary have a break that lines up—you a full weekend, they no band obligations—and decide to get out of the city for a bit, of course it couldn’t go right. You’d told Mary that you ought to wake up early to pick up the car rental, get a head start on the way out the city, and of course it took them forever to get out of bed, mumbling that it would be fine. That you were worrying too much when it was supposed to be a fun weekend. Mary groaned, dropping their head against the steering wheel.

“We haven’t moved in fucking ages.”

“I know,” you sigh, offering your partner a pitiful hand on their shoulder. You feel how tense their muscle is beneath your hand, how stressed they are. Mary was never patient, never good at waiting, this would practically be torture for them.

“Babe,” they whine. “We’re gonna fuckin’ expire out here.” You roll your eyes.

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m not! They’re gonna find our fuckin’ bones in this car.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do,” you murmur, your hand sliding up to massage their neck gently. “Just try to relax.” Mary’s eyes flutter shut, and they let out a deep emptying sigh, rolling their shoulders under your ministrations.

“Yeah okay,” they mumble.

“It’s not that bad,” you muse, and they creak their eyes open and frown at you. “At least you’re stuck with me?”

“Touché.”

“Mmm,” you hum, and lean in to press a soft kiss to Mary’s lips. You feel your partner melt into it, moaning deeply against your mouth. A large hand wraps around the nape of your neck, digging into you hair, pulling you closer as Mary deepens the kiss, their tongue exploring your mouth, dancing across yours. You unbuckle your seatbelt, and as you wrap your arms around their neck, pressing yourself as close as you can get to your partner, you can’t help but feel grateful for the rental’s partially tinted windows. You break apart for breath, and Mary’s lips chase after you, your foreheads bumping softly against one another.

And then a thought pops into your head, and you offer Mary a wry smile. They furrow their brow in confusion. But your hands are already on the move, sliding down the plains of their chest, their stomach, and you get to work; unbuckling their heavy belt, unbuttoning their pants and tugging down the zipper.

“Babe—” Mary’s breath hitches as you run a hand over their growing bulge, and you press a kiss to their jaw.

“Just wanna make you feel good,” you murmur against their skin. “Don’t want you to be stressed.” You kiss down their neck, your hand sliding under the waistband of their boxers. Mary’s already hard, and they let out a long hiss, their chest heaving as you pump up and down on their length.

“Fuck.”

“Feels good?” you whisper, nuzzling the crook of their neck.

“Yeah,” Mary groans, their head falling back against the headrest.

“Good.” And then you’re pulling Mary’s leaking cock out, running your thumb over the head. Their hips jerk and you slide back in your seat, settling your knees on the floor of the car.

“Fuck yes,” Mary hisses as they realize what you’re doing, their hand finding its way to the back of your head. You bristle in delight at the slight sting as Mary’s nails dig into your scalp.

You start slowly, licking a long, languid stripe up the underside of their length, swirling your tongue around their head as your hand wraps around the base. You stay like that for a while, kitten-licking the pre-cum from Mary’s cockhead, revelling in the huffs and moans from above, until Mary’s impatience catches up to them, and with a snarl, bucks their hips, their fist tightening its grip on your hair, pushing your head down gently.

You take the hint, hollowing your cheeks and taking their length in your mouth, and start bobbing up and down in earnest. Mary groans loudly above you.

“Fuck doll, mouth so fucking good.” You suck on Mary’s head, a harsh fuck! Muttered under their breath. You let go with a pop, running your tongue down to their base, sucking at the sensitive flesh on the underside.

“Love sucking your cock Mary,” you moan, taking them all again, you fight your gag reflex, tears running down your cheeks, drool spilling down your chin as Mary ruts into your mouth.

“Fuck I’m close.” You breathe deeply through your nose, letting Mary fuck your throat as hard as they can, hollowing your cheeks, digging your fingers into their hips. “So good,” they groan. “Yes, y-yes, yes, yes, Fuck!” The salt of Mary’s cum hits your tongue and you groan, sucking on their head, licking every drop, following them through their high, their hips twitching with the aftershocks. “Fuck,” Mary sighs, running a hand over their face. You pop your mouth of their cock, wiping away your spit from your chin with a mischievous grin.

“Feel better?” Mary nods.

“yeaaah, yeah that was—fuck that was good.” You huff, laughing under your breath. “C’mere.” Mary pulls you into a deep kiss, and you moan against their lips, their hands burying themselves in your hair. And then a loud honk! Coming from behind breaks the moment, and you startle, jumping off Mary.

“Fuck! We’re moving!” Mary scrambles to tuck themselves back into their jeans and you buckle your seat. The car behind you honks again, and Mary flips them off through the rearview mirror. “Yeah I’m going, on going,” they mutter, giving you a bewildered smile. “Good fuckin’ way to kill time, babe.” You bite your lip as Mary puts the car in drive, smiling to yourself.

It’s a few hours later when you finally pull into the driveway of the rental cabin. You’re stiff and itching to get out of the car, but just as you go to open your door, Mary pushes you back into the seat.

“Mary—” You’re cut off as Mary presses their lips to you, their hands sliding down, unbuttoning your jeans.

“Think I’d let you out of the car without returning the favour?” they growl, crawling over to the passenger seat and settling down on their knees before you.

“There’s a whole bed in the cabin.”

“Nuh-uh sweetheart,” Mary answers, a devilish grin on their face, “Only when I’m through with you here.”

[kissingghouls]

Is anyone gonna be mad at me if I post more soft Mary Goore…