chaos-in-deepspace · 2 days ago
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Hello I love your writing! Have you ever thought about writing the lads guys going into a corn maze with mc? I imagine that there would be a lot of room for chaos and mishaps
LADS: Corn Maze | SFW
This was just too fun of an idea not to write! Halloween is right around the corner and while I do have something planned for it, I still wanted to go ahead and write this little thing because it's Fall and we need to celebrate with the corn maze shenanigans.
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❧ Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. ❧ Warnings: None ❧ Pairings: All LADs x Reader (Separate)
Blog Information | Masterlist
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Xavier
The fall leaves crunched between your feet as you bumped into Xavier for the thirtieth time that night. It was dim, with only a few lanterns hanging here and there in the corn maze, “Out of everything we could’ve done for date night, you chose a haunted corn maze?” you had initially teased him when he brought you here. You thought it would be easy, nothing too scary. If anything, you thought you’d wind up getting lost, which, granted, you two were, but you hadn’t expected the eerie atmosphere to affect you this much.
Half an hour into the maze, though, you had found yourself relaxing. Xavier matched your pace as you two made turns and found yourself at dead ends several times, but so far, nothing scary had happened. “Are you certain there are scare actors in this maze?” you asked him casually, your shoulder bumping into him again.
“I’m fairly certain that’s what it was advertised as.” Xavier had muttered as he looked around. You guys had seen actors at the front of the maze, sure, but you hadn’t run into a single one the entire time. Perhaps you guys were more lost than you anticipated.
It was like fate knew you were doubting it, though; as soon as the thought had crossed your mind, you heard a noise behind you. Your head whipped over to look behind you, only to see a hulking form crossing one of the pathways. It was definitely not another person walking around the maze but an actor. The sounds of the chains dragging on the ground had you clinging to Xavier’s arm, your blood running cold as you watched, trying to be silent.
Xavier only looked down at you, noticing how hard you were holding onto his arm as you stared wide-eyed at the actor. His hand went over your own, giving it a squeeze, and when you looked up, you saw his reassuring smile.
“How are you not scared?” You asked; your voice was low as you tried not to let whatever was stalking you guys find your location. Xavier let out a small, melodic laugh, being mindful to keep silent as well as not to alert the actor.
“I find watching you to be more entertaining,” he said, leaning down so his lips brushed up against your ear. You shivered involuntarily at his proximity and showed him a small pout, squeezing him a little bit tighter at that. While you could understand it being entertaining, you felt like your heart was about to explode at just seeing that person walking around.
“That’s so mean, you-“You had planned on giving him a small lecture, but then you heard something behind you two. You ever so slowly turned your head around, hoping it wasn’t what you thought it was. You came face to face with someone in a clown mask, the fake blood splattered all over them. You swallowed thickly as your grasp on Xavier tightened, and your eyes locked onto the actor.
Then your scream rang out in the maze, the sound almost blood curdling as you tried to grab onto Xavier tighter. Xavier, in his defense, had an amazing reaction time to your panic. You didn’t even realize it until he was running away that he had scooped you up bridal style. Your hands bunched up into the fabric of his hoodie as he navigated some twists and turns in order to help lose the actor.
“Also this,” Xavier said as the wind whipped around you two, “It’s hard to be afraid when I have an excuse you carry you like this.”
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Zayne
The autumn air had been at first refreshing, if not a bit cold. Now you found a small shiver running down your spine as Zayne looked down at you from where he stood beside you, “I told you to dress warmly,” Zayne said, noticing how you were definitely not properly dressed for this weather. In your defense, you had expected the large corn maze to hide you two from the winds, but instead, it whistled through the stalks and hit your skin like a biting force.
“I didn’t think it would be this cold…” you muttered as you looked down and kicked a rock in front of you. You heard the shuffling of fabrics and looked up to see Zayne had taken his scarf off his neck. He pulled you closer and draped it around your own neck with a smile, wrapping it around you until you were a bit more bundled up.
“It’s fine, I always have solutions.” He explained calmly to you. You could feel a blush on your cheeks as you looked away from him and cleared your throat.
“T-thanks,” you finally managed to get out, his actions touching you to the point where you wondered what you did to deserve such a sweet and caring boyfriend like Zayne.
You then felt him taking your hand, and you looked up in surprise, “Come here; we don’t want to get separated in here,” he said, placing your hand right over his arm. He felt warm to the touch as you got a bit closer, wrapping your hand securely around him. You couldn’t help but get just a touch closer, your cheek resting on his shoulder now as you began making your way through the corn maze.
Honestly, you had been a bit surprised when this is what Zayne had suggested you two did with your day. You both had the day off, and you were expecting him to want to relax at home or maybe stop by a bakery. It had been a long week for him, and you had seen how weary he had been last night when he crawled into bed with you. Instead, though, once you two had woken up and had breakfast, he suggested this. He claimed it would be a shame not to enjoy the fall weather before winter came, and it would be nice to go out for a stroll. It landed you here, wandering around aimlessly as neither of you seemed to want this to end.
Then you saw the exit, where the corn seemed to end, and you frowned. Your feet carried you over to it, and you were back in an open field together, “I feel like that was so…short,” you two hadn’t even been trying to find an exit. Instead, you opted to enjoy the company of one another.
It was Zayne who took you off his arm, instead now holding onto your hand as he brought it up to his lips. The display of affection in public normally would’ve been shocking, but at the moment, you two were the only ones here. The corn maze was open to the public, but since it was the middle of the week, there weren’t any other couples in the clearing.
“How about we try our hand at another entrance,” he said, looking over to one of the many openings in the maze. There were plenty of places to start the maze, and you glanced at him, squeezing his hand.
“And why’d you want to do that?” you asked, already knowing his answer as he gave you a sweet smile.
“No reason in particular; it would just be a shame if we didn’t get the full experience, is all,” it was the only excuse you needed to drop your hands between you two, walking over to re-enter the maze with the intent on seeing how long it would take for you guys to get bored and head off to dinner.
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Rafayel
Rafayel already had a death grip on your arm as you two made your way through the maze at night. In the distance, you two could hear other people screaming as the actors chased them through the corn maze, and the sounds only made this entire thing spookier, “Why, out of every date venue, did you choose the haunted corn maze? Are normal mazes overrated now?” Rafayel said his entire being was on high alert as he looked around the area.
“Well, it looked fun…” you murmured, amused with how he seemed to be acting right now. He really was scared if his eyes scanning the area was anything to go off of. It did feel nice, though, having his warm body pressed against your own as you made your way through the maze. It was pretty chilly tonight, and even though you had thought you dressed warmly enough, having Rafayel there helped you stop shivering.
“This is the opposite of fun. What if they really try and kill us?” Rafayel asked with a pout, “As my bodyguard, it’s your legal duty to protect me,” he said, blowing some of his hair out of his face. His eyes were almost pleading with you, and it made you want to whine at how sweet he looked. He had the perfect puppy dog look whenever he was in a situation he didn’t particularly enjoy, and it tugged on your heartstrings far more than you’d like to admit.
You decided to hold onto his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze, “Alright, Raf, I promise that if any scare actors come out and try and murder you, I’ll protect you,” you assured the man.
It was as if the actors had heard you, though, heard your brave declaration because the moment you had said it, you saw someone come out of the shadows. The man was giant and holding a chainsaw that he revved as he began bolting towards you. For such a large frame, the man was fast, and it had you now grabbing onto Rafayel and letting out a shrill scream. You weren’t even sure who had the loudest scream out of you two, you or Rafayel.
The man looked absolutely terrified, and his grip on your hand tightened in response. Then he looked down at you, scared like a deer in headlights, as this actor came rushing for you. Without even thinking about it, he was scooping you up into his arms, your hands resting on his shoulders as he began booking it out of there faster than you thought. He always complained about hating running and how he wasn’t fast on land, but the way he moved was proving otherwise.
You could only grasp onto Rafayel tighter as you watched with wide eyes. You had expected to be the one to grab him; in fact, you had it all planned out. You were scooping your boyfriend up like a bride and booking it out of there. If you had a moment to recover from your initial shock, you probably would’ve, but he had managed to act faster than you. He weaved through the maze until you could no longer see the actor, and he hid you two in one of the alcoves.
“You are doing a horrible job as my bodyguard,” Rafayel said, trying to catch his breath. He was letting you slip out of his arms, and your feet were now touching the ground. Your arms were still wrapped around his shoulders, though, as you looked up at him, smiling.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” you began, standing tall enough to brush your nose against his own, “You’re doing an amazing job as my boyfriend,” you stated. You watched as Rafayel blinked owlishly at you, his cheeks and ears now growing red at your compliment.
“O-of course I am…” he murmured, but he couldn’t hide the satisfied smile on his face, knowing he got to protect you this time, even if you secretly didn’t need it all that much. You would avoid telling him that, however, as you found being carried by Rafayel to be a rather fun activity.
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Sylus
There were a few things people would never believe you, even if you told them. Even if you had photographic evidence of it, they still wouldn’t believe you. It was the fact that Sylus, the leader of Onychinus, a name that instills fear and respect from those who hear it…was damn clingy.
The man was literally draped over you at the moment, clinging onto you like his life depended on it. His body was heavy against your own as you tried walking forward in the corn maze, but you felt like your back was about to give out on you. He had his arms around your shoulders, his head resting on top of yours, and gods, did you need a break?
“You’re too biiiiiiiig!” you finally cried out after almost half an hour of his behavior. You could hear Sylus chuckle at your statement, causing you to huff, “And heavy…” you muttered the last part. You swore this man was 90% muscle at this point and 10% koala. You felt his lips on top of your head, giving you a small kiss as he began speaking to you, his voice having a calming effect on you somehow.
“You never complain about me being too heavy when we’re cuddling in bed,” Sylus said, reminding you about how he draped himself over you. Sleeping next to Sylus really meant half his body was on top of yours, his arms securely around your waist as if he was afraid you’d try to get up while you slept.
“Okay, that’s different; you’re like a literal cat when we’re cuddling in bed,” You said, trying to argue your point, “And I’m not walking around; I’m laying down. Like my personal weighted blanket.” You reasoned with him. Your feet felt like they were dragging now as he bore down more of his weight onto you in response.
“Are you telling me the big, strong hunter can’t handle this?” he teased, and you groaned. Then you remembered you were a hunter, and you were now looking for a way to escape the man. Your eyes landed on one of the thousands of corn stalks around you as you stopped walking for a moment. You reached your hand out, breaking off some of it and then whacking Sylus on the head.
That was enough to have him let out a small, unamused grunt as he stood back up. He looked down at you, the corn stalk in hand, holding it like a sword, “Unhand my, you fiend!” you said, getting ready to hit him again if he tried to drape himself over your body.
“Is this a challenge?” Sylus asked, raising an eyebrow. He always did say he liked your feisty side, but this was…almost a bit too childish. Still, he was always one to indulge your whims, and perhaps acting like a bunch of rambunctious teenagers was fine every now and again as he grabbed one of the corn stalks himself.
Your eyes drifted to his own hand, the relaxed stance he had as he looked at you with a smirk. You decided to try and hit it out of his hand, but in a swift motion, he managed to deflect you. He slapped your wrist with his weapon, and immediately, you dropped it, looking down at your poor corn stalk, then back at him.
“Seriously?” you asked, motioning to your now fallen weapon, “You can use a corn stalk as a sword…and have it be effective?” you asked, clearly unamused that he was good at everything without needing to try.
You watched as he tossed his ‘weapon’ off to the side and grabbed hold of you, dragging you closer to his body, “Improvising is simply part of life. However, I don’t think I’d try and take down a wanderer with this in hand.” He said, “However, you put up a noble fight; how about, as a reward, you can lean on me for a while?”
You flushed as you felt his warmth seeping into you, realizing for the first time that you were a little chilly. A slight shiver went down your spine as you looked up at him, almost pouting, “Fine,” you said, leaning against him, “Honestly, I should just make you carry me. I think my back is permanently damaged.”
“Is that what you want, sweetie?” Sylus asked, pulling you off for a moment, “To be carried through this maze.” You were about to protest and tell him it was a joke, but no sooner did you think of a sentence than he picked you up in one arm. You let out a small, annoyed noise as he did so but relaxed against him. You suppose there could be worse ways to spend your time in the maze, and with his height and your angle, you could see on top of the corn stalks where the exit was.
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witchyleehibernates · 3 days ago
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i know it’s probs not part of your au or plans for darry but like IMAGINE if darry was the only one of them to not make it out of his games. the gang has to watch him die in the games where the odds were never once in his favor, stacked too high from the beginning, knowing that he just paid the price for the capitol not being able to kill the others when they had the chance
and that’s what kicks off the revolution in district 12, like when rue died. because darry was one of the most respected guys in the district, someone who only ever cared for keeping his family safe. he was supposed to be spared from the games but they came for him anyway, and now no one is safe
again though these are just thoughts lol don’t take them serious🙏 i love your au it’s so amazing!!
That... I love that. I'd just been talking about yesterday how I struggle killing any of my characters off but wanting to learn how too... Oh Sodapop and Ponyboy would be leading that revolution on two different fronts...
But I also bring to you... They only think they know that Darry's dead, and instead the Capitol does what they did to Peeta to Darry, and so when they find out he's alive they are ecstatic. They want to save and rescue him and bring him home, their new home because 12 is gone now, but then... Darry thinks they are threats, they need to be killed, Darry thinks he's still in the games.
It would take months before Darry is able to separate from what the Capitol did to him, but by then, Ponyboy doesn't even recognize his brother. Physically, yes, that's his brother... mentally? No. it's not. It would crush Sodapop. The rest of the gang would be distraught, and Darry is constantly spiraling to some degree, especially when he's able to focus in on his actual memories of his brothers and realized he'd hurt them.
Just something to think about, hehe
Also, I absolutely love that Darry would be one of the most respected in the district, just something so interesting to think about 12 caring more about the Curtis's / Curtis gang than the gang thought.
'don't take them serious' haha, about that. I love any and all ideas that come through my inbox, it makes me think!! I love that!
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moonssugar · 2 years ago
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perforated circle of writers on here is like an ecosystem that keeps creating cringe fail pathetic young men with wet eyes that we all love to watch suffer but for some reason im the creature in the ecosystem thats like “best i can do is dilfs in their 30s almost 40s with some kind of trauma” and the one babygirl in his late thirties whos a sharpshooter, gay married and who changed his surname to his confirmation saint out of spite who also has curly hair and brown-grey eyes
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pandadrake · 1 year ago
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Get fridged, idiots. (affectionate)
Don’t mind me, just thinking of character parallels.
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swordsonnet · 6 months ago
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"i have feelings for you too" "i wasn't talking about you" SAVAGE
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paperbackfable · 3 months ago
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Erend: they don't Id me at the liquor store anymore because they see the light has left my eyes
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Erend: We're playing Scrabble. It's a nightmare.
Alva: Scrabble? Scrabble's great.
Erend: Not when you're playing with Zo, it's not. They put words like "ephemeral" and I put "dog".
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Varl: You're ignoring all your problems.
Aloy: I know.
Varl: You also know it's an unhealthy coping mechanism?
Aloy: I'm ignoring that fact as well.
Varl:
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Zo: In your opinion, what's the height of stupidity?
Aloy: turning to Sylens How tall are you?
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Aloy: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!
Sylens: Oh yeah? You're the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD.
Aloy: I'm leaving you, and I'm TAKING BETA WITH ME!
Varl, picking up the strike board: I think we're gonna stop playing now.
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Aloy: Want do you want to be for "Halloween"?
Beta: Loved.
Aloy: Don't do this.
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Sylens: I will not stand to be disrespected like this!
Aloy: Then sit.
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Alva: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life...
Zo: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back.
Aloy: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this.
Beta: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years.
Erend: I knew I lost that potential somewhere.
Varl: Mental stability, my old friend!
Alva: Ancestors, could you guys lighten up a little?
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Varl: What do you think Kotallo will do for a distraction?
Aloy: Probably, like, whistle or throw a rock. That's what I would do.
Building explodes and several car alarms go off
Aloy: ...or they could do that.
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OK THAT'S ENOUGH I SHOULD PROABLY STOP NOW BYE
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dawnlotus-draws · 1 year ago
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A loneliness like morning frost.
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0rph1x · 2 years ago
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look at them look at them look at them look at them look at th
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another-clive-blog · 1 month ago
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Back to thinking about Claire and Clive and their traumas born from the same tragedy yet entirely different
You ever think about the fact that Clive's parents were (almost) never directly mentioned ? Layton mentioned them for the backstory talk and that's all, objective "they are dead" statement. And the other time we heard about them was in the flashback. In both of these cases, they're only evoked to announce their death, nothing else. We never get to hear about them in present tense, Clive himself never speaks about them. They're just... Gone. They won't come back, not thanks to revenge, not as ghosts, not even in discussions. They're dead and they'll stay dead.
On the other hand, Claire is very much alive- or at least she looks like it. Even before we get to the Claire reveal, every character keeps her memory alive. Dimitri is doing this all for Claire, Layton is a living tribute to her, Don Paolo's character is linked to her choices. She's everywhere and haunting the narrative before we ever learn that she is literally haunting the narrative. She's corporeal enough to change things yet her time is up, so really how much change can she bring ? She is stuck in this transitory state where she doesn't get to live yet can't die and disappear either. Even if she were to die once and for all, most of our characters would still have her as a driving force. She is forced to influence this story far beyond her death.
I wonder how they got along. Clive for whom death is absence, it is forgotten family and empty homes, and Claire for whom death is life persisting, loud with memories and transcending feelings.
#I think Clive fucking hated her. Yet felt close to her at the same time#He initially bonded with her as in 'she died too' but then when she actually came back he got jealous and furious#Why does she get to come back. Why her and not my parents ? Were my parents not loved enough ?#Were they not special enough is that it ? I'm sorry they didn't get a tragic enough backstory. So sorry they were collateral damage.#He resents her and she's upset too. Claire isn't furious at others like him but she's bitter that she still got her life stolen.#She's as disgusted as Clive. You wanted your parents kid ? I wanted MY kids. I wanted my fiance. I wanted my life#Of course there's something infinitely valuable and beautiful about Claire's loved ones keeping her memory alive#But there is also something deeply human and heartbreaking about it. She should have lived. She wanted to. Why is that not enough#Claire and Clive are similar in that way I think. They reek of certainty brutally ripped apart and broken pieces that won't fit anymore#Their relationship is made of intense resentment and bitterness. But it only hides the grief and loneliness killing them both#clive dove#claire foley#professor layton and the unwound future#professor layton and the lost future#unwound future spoilers#lost future spoilers#my stuff#my analysis#Time duo#Honestly I went for these two but every single character's way to deal with grief is so interesting.#I love Clive's 'My parents are dead and they're gone forever and I don't get why I should have to accept this' but they're all amazing
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siredmundchummery · 6 months ago
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Various doodles from recently XD
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kyouka-supremacy · 2 hours ago
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Well.
#(I'm back)#It was. Uhm. A chapter#First of all: I'm ENDLESSLY GRATEFUL to the person who sent me the translation basically as soon as the chapter came out.#I even did like 90% of typesetting but didn't finish it because I had to go out#(aka with my friends were literally knocking out at my room and I couldn't make it any more late lol)#Mixed feelings about it? Mostly because there's so much exposition... I'll need to reread it another three times before it sinks in#The color page is AMAZING 10000000000000/10 I love my sskks so much they're so cute I love them so much they're so cute.#Easily the best part of the chapter.#The color page was? Very very pretty too? Like a lot more than usual if you ask me! I can't wait for the volume cover 🥺🥺#It should come out soon shouldn't it? Usually color spreads / pages open the volume...#Akutagawa fake dying again is funny. Like it isssss but also. Idk it's a little lame how we're changing the pov from ss/kk again :/#I can't even tell if I'm being biased or if it's an actual storytelling critique. I don't care right now I just want to see Akutagawa–#being cool rather than. You know. Dead on the ground.#That said! It's also very funny and touches my sense of humor precisely.#Like yeah Akutagawa being like the second strongest pm member and overall one of the most powerful ability user in the world–#that everyone fears (and I know he is! He is indeed for real!)#And yet he always ends up face to the ground 😂😂😂 Like if we don't count the ss/kk fights he literally only ever won against Hawthorne.#And even then he failed to kill him and Mitchell. It's so funny to me. I love him. He's so pathetic#“Wow! Akutagawa is so cool and invincible now!” *ends up biting the dust not even two chapters later*#It's okay because I love him. He's very very powerful and he's also very very pathetic I love that for him#That said :/ I don't really care about Fukuzawa :/ Idk :/ Like :/#Don't get me wrong I LOVE Fukuzawa (I don't. I'm mostly neutral towards him) but this is the ss/kk moment man :/ Whatchu doin#That's about it. Let's see what the next chapter brings!#Everything accounted for I'm glad there wasn't like. A ss/kk kiss or any other big big ss/kk moment#(although Atsushi admiring Akutagawa and thinking about his eyes has its fair share of neatness to it!!)#Because with everything going on this evening I really would have been let down to miss it#But I keep hope for the next chapters!! Please...#random rambles#Had tons of fun typesetting! Even though I don't think there's a point in posting it now. But would love to do it again in the future!#bsd spoilers
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mqonlighting · 9 months ago
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real talk in the tags for a second because i have a crush on a girl and i. a hehe. ahehehe.
will be burying this in reblogs and never touching on it again
#so random disclaimer this girl is like a year older than me and in high school it’s like a nono for older and younger batch to like be#a thing so i know i generally have no chance but i like to live in my own insanity and the progression of my crush on her has been absolute#ly cuckoo bananas. so like it started out as ‘i wanna be your friend’ and progressed into ‘shit they’re really pretty’ to ‘wow ur so??’ to#‘fuck i like them’ and then it died down and then by all golly it came back but more of a hallway crush now which is bearable bc i’m#not really a part of their life?? like we know each other but we don’t wave and shit and we don’t like ever interact that much so i was lik#ok this is fine bc they literally never think of me so i’m just admiring from afar. and the FIRST inciting incident was i request them onig#and i expect to not get accepted because according to their friends they onyl accept close friends and i’m like k this is a bad idea probs#but the worst that could happen is i get left in their follow requests right?? RIGHT?? but then within like two hours of reqing. lord.#i got. ACCEPTED. and they requested back. and suddenly it’s +1 tangibility like ok?? maybe we’re not as strangers as i thought we were#i later discovered i was not that special for this but also?? cool?? anyways for a while it kind of laid dead and we never spoke at all eve#tho i was in their acc now (at this time they barely posted but whenever they did it was so?? funny like they would slap the randomest shit#on that acc) and it was still a hallway crush altho my friends r awful (/pos) people who would always make me pass their hallway and i#would run into them so often but at this point we only ever like exchanged glances and they would walk right past me like i wasnt even ther#but THEN the second incident happened which was basically we had to play instruments for this christmas event thing and bc they’re literall#y amazing they played for it and i was roped into it and. i was so gay the whole time. bc who wears a leather jacket to school and gets the#prettiest haircut ever right on the last day before a long break?? and the worst part is whenevr something confusing happened they would#turn to me and this one other person and we’d b laughing together. like we r friends. and they’re so fucking nice they were checking up on#us the whole time i was literally dying i kept dropping my pick and stealing looks AURURUGH and they’re so gen funny and interesting i just#and the first few days of holiday break i just couldn’t stop thinking abt them it was so bad? like that was the moment where i was genuinel#like is this more than a hallway crush… eventually it died back down until the next event we had to play together where they were being SO#SO much more comf w me? like exchanging knowing looks when smt funny happens and that stuff.. at this point i didnt even know what to like#think of my crush on them so i just let it be yk. atp they’re not even waving at me in the hallways at all still so maybe they’re just bein#nice! BUT NO. THAT IS UNTIL I AUDITIONED FOR A BAND (theyr in charge of accepting) AND THEY ACCEPTED ME WHICH COOL BUT LIKE A DAY LATER I#HEARD FROM OUR MUTUAL FRIEND THAT THEY SAID ‘yeaa im so happy i got (my name)’ AS IN IN THE BAND. LIKE. HELLO?? HI U THIUGHT ABT ME?? and#during the first band mtg where everyone’s all awk they kept making eye contact w me and asking if i was good and making sure i got to say#smt before anyone made a decision and it. murdered. me. i’m sorry maybe it’s the fanfic writer in me or this shit is literally nothing and#think they’re just nice to everyone but who cares bc it means they’re nice to ME too. and then last week happened. which was like the nail#in the coffin. INTERACTION ACTIVITY. I IMPULSIVELY ASK IF THEY WANNA B GROUPMATES AND THEY SAY YES. THEY ONLY TALK TO ME AND THEIR FRIENDS.#I ACT STUPID. THEY ALUGH AND TOUCH MY SHOULDER. I ASK ABT THEIR CAMERA AND THEY GO ON A LONG-ISH (cute) RANT ABT SMTH. THEY ASK WHY I HAVE#BIG ASS STACK OF POST ITS. WE TALK. THEY LAUGH AT MY JOKES. SUDDENLY. THEY SAY A FULL HELLO IN THE HALLS. THEY WAVE AT ME A DAY LATER. FUCK
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hedgehog-moss · 25 days ago
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I usually buy one stere of firewood per year, one and a half at most, but this year I saw an ad at the farm store promising a discount if you ordered 5 or 10 steres and I thought, well, I have a brand new wood shed, so let's go, five steres, why not!
Then a big truck came to my house and threw up this lava flow of wood in front of my shed and I realised that my mental representation of 5 steres, in terms of volume, was a bit off.
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But that's okay! My friend D. was coming to visit. She's very convenient to have around in early autumn because she enjoys the real-life Tetris aspect of stacking wood—not only that, but she's uncannily talented at spotting blackberries, and September is blackberry season. (I do also invite her in other seasons so she doesn't feel exploited for her gifts.)
I was a bit concerned about the wood-stacking part of her visit though, partly because of the truckload of wood awaiting us and partly because this year's wood is completely shapeless and looks like whimsically sea-sculpted debris from an ancient shipwreck.
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(On the left: the pretty logs that /I/ cut, which are shaped and easy to stack. On the right: the nonsensical wood that I bought.)
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(My friend saw this and almost went on strike. She was like, "Not a single log has a shape that makes sense with the others... it sucks. That's not Tetris 😠") (Me: "Think of it as having reached a higher, more challenging level of Tetris." Her: "😠")
On top of that, because of the cold and rainy summer we've had, blackberries were very scarce this year, like everything else. Brambles are so ubiquitous in my woods I used to think I would always get more blackberries than I know what to do with, but last month I actually had to go look for them which I'm not used to doing. Every fence is usually covered with blackberries in September, and in some parts of the woods there are hazel trees taken over by brambles so that blackberries are dangling in front of your face temptingly and you don't even need to bend down to pick them. But not this year.
I feared this visit would be quite disappointing for D. if the wood stacking and the berry picking were less fun than usual—but the fact that blackberries were much harder to find than the previous years made her amazing berry-dar all the more necessary and appreciated, and she enjoyed our blackberry hunt. We'd get lost in mazes of giant broom bushes and I'd be like, let's go somewhere else there are no blackberries to be found here, and she'd stop dead and go, "Here!" And here they were!
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I don't know how she does it.
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One fun thing that happened is that at one point, while D. was somehow finding kilos of blackberries in a field I'd already searched two days before and which had seemed empty of berries, I wandered away into the forest to photograph some pretty mushrooms. Then I heard a strange bird call which, when I looked up and paid more attention to it, sounded more like my friend calling my name from afar. I figured I was being called out for getting distracted from the berry harvest, so I returned to the field. She was crouching down at the other end of the field with her back turned on me and didn't look like she'd just called me.
Half an hour later, when it was getting dark and we were about to go home, she told me, "Hey, did you have something to show me earlier? When you were in the woods." Me: "No, why?" Her: "You called my name."
...
Me: "I didn't call your name. You called MY name." On second thought, she said that it sounded quite shaky and high-pitched, not like my voice, more birdlike. Me: "I initially thought it was a bird too!" Problem: our names sound nothing alike.
We stood there mystified for a minute, wondering if there could be a bird capable of articulating both of our names, or if it was some other animal or thing that somehow knows our names. (We were quite sure there were no humans in the area, because Pandolf is very good at sensing nearby people and always wants to go say hi to them.)
We looked at the woods, then at my car parked nearby, then went, "Okay! Time to go home and never investigate this further 😊"
My friends are a good influence on me—there were people a bit concerned about my sanity in the notes of that post where I talked about going out into the woods at night because something was screaming, and I think they'll be happy with the moral of this story! We went home and sat by the fire eating blackberry tart and talked about what a great decision it was, all things considered, to not try to figure out what sort of creature wanted us to wander deeper into the forest at dusk. The end.
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thinkinonsense · 27 days ago
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WICKED
old man!logan howlett x young fem!reader
cw: cheating, heavy flirting, smut, kinda dark
authors note: i have no idea what came over me and i cannot explain it. also! gif credit to the amazing n talented @silverskyeline <333
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he never should've gone to the bar. never should've let you run your pretty mouth. most definitely never should've bought you that martini. every weekend he watches you seduce the men at the bar until one of them falls into your trap.
logan would scoff, mumbling something under his breath about how stupid that bastard must be. despite the fact that the only thing holding him back from your advances was the thick gold band on his finger, reminding him of where his loyalty should be.
"lovely seeing you here again, logan."
he loathed your wicked smile and how your voice sounded like rain fall. trying his best to avoid staring into the eye of the storm but your presence demanded to be seen. practically ripping his hazel gaze off the wooden table and over to that tiny dress you were wearing. dark navy tight against your skin in a way that could make any man sin.
"missed ya' last weekend." you purr. "where were you at?"
"home." he states, gruffly.
"that's boring. why were you at home?"
"wedding anniversary."
the words made your tummy flip with excitement. you didn’t know much about logan outside of his favorite brands of alcohol, but you did know that he had a wife at home. he never mentioned her by name. sometimes, she would call the bar if it was “too late” for him to be out but other than that, she was a ghost.
“cute. you should bring her here one weekend.” you propose, almost making logan choke on his whisky. “bet she would love to see where you run and hide at night.”
“it’s not her kinda scene.” he responds.
“aw, i’m sure we would be friends.”
“doubtful.”
“and why’s that?” you fake pout.
logan leans in close before whispering, “don’t think she would appreciate you beggin’ for her husband to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom every weekend.”
“i didn’t say we would stay friends.” you giggle, making his cock stir in his work pants. “also, the invite is still open if you miss fuckin’ someone younger.”
the second you are out of sight, off in the pool room next door annoying some other asshole, he groans under his breath. logan hated how well you read him. you knew he wanted you but you were smart enough to make him come crawling to you if he wanted to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him.
after a couple minutes, a few men left the room and logan got up to take their place. when he walked inside he saw it was empty except for you sitting in one of the chairs on your phone.
“glad you decided to join me.” you smile up at him.
logan ignores you instead going over to get a stick and start playing. you finish your martini and join him as he sets up the balls. catching you off guard, he tosses you a stick too.
“if i win, you leave me alone for good.” he huffs in your face.
“sure but what do i get when i win?” you smirk.
logan ignores your question and growls, “ladies first.”
it's dead silent as you bend over the pool table to line your stick up to the diamond. logan's far too busy staring at the wet spot on your light blue panties. he never admit it, even if you knew for sure that's where his eyes were. it wasn't until he lost sight of the spot that he realized you already took your shot.
"your turn, old man." you tease, moving out of his way.
the two of you go back and forth for a bit but you were growing tired of this game. instead you decided to make things even more interesting.
"so when i win, are you going to finally fuck me?" your bluntness always left logan speechless.
"you already know the answer to that, sweetheart." he replies, trying to focus before shooting.
"sure, blah, blah, blah, something wife." you mock with an eye roll that almost made logan chuckle. "but seriously? when was the last time you two had sex? you probably got cobwebs in there."
that got a small smirk out of him. one that you count as a win.
"it's just a band. it comes off, see?" you lean over and take the ring off of his finger, placing it on the table.
logan stared at it for too long. feeling the distance of his commitments. you turn his head towards you with a light hook on his grey bearded chin. the lust in his eyes told you that you had won.
"you know what else comes off that easily?" you whisper, lips inches from his. "my panties."
a good man would've walked away. a good man would've returned home to his wife. but logan wasn't a good man. never had been and never would be.
an animalistic urge fell over him, grabbing you with the ease of a rag doll and bending you over the pool table. the wedding band was inches from your parted lips, moaning prettily as logan spread you open with his thumbs and licked a wide strip up your cunt, burying his face in your arousal and letting it coat his beard until he could only taste you.
"f-fuck me." logan groans, pulling back to catch his breath. "taste better than i imagined."
"knew you wanted me." you smirk, feeling his middle finger circle your entrance before pushing in. a loud moan is pulled from your throat as he hits that spongey spot with ease.
"weren't lying 'bout being tight." logan marvels, watching the way you suck in his finger.
he attempts to push in his ring finger as well and you wish you could've seen his face while he struggle to get it in. quickly, you reach for the wedding ring next to you then grab his hand from inside you. fumbling to get the ring back on him before he questions you.
"what are you—"
"go on." you coax, looking back at him with dark eyes. "try it now."
logan shouldn't have been so turned on from the image of his wedding ring coated in your slick; but here he was watching it disappear and reappear inside of you.
"right—fuck! r-right there..." you pant, arching farther back to meet his thrusts.
"does it turn you on being a homewreaker?" logan asks, back up on his feet and nibbling at your ear. "knowing that you have a old married man fucking you with his wedding band on?"
"mhm..." you mumble against the table. he takes the opportunity to pick up his pace, feeling you clench down. "d-don't stop..."
within seconds, your gushing around his fingers and dripping down his hand. right when he pulled out of you, you turn around and push him back into one of the plush chairs to undo his belt. falling to your knees, you begin to stroke him, tracing his veins with your tongue and tapping the tip on it.
"always knew you had quite the mouth on ya', princess." he grunts with a fist full of your hair.
you smile, taking him all the way until his tip hit the back of your throat and the hairs at his base tickled your nose. logan was finding it harder and harder to control his animalistic urge while your gagging and drooling all over his lap. quickly, you release him with a pop and stand up to straddle him, lining him up to your entrance and sinking down slowly.
"shit, you're so fucking tight." he says, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises.
"only for you, logan." you whine, grinding down on him, rocking back and forth.
roughly, logan pulls the rest of your dress off of you, throwing it on the floor somewhere behind you. large hands touching you all over in ways you've only dreamt of. meanwhile, your attacking his neck like a madwoman. biting and marking him up like he's yours.
desperately, logan fucks up into you, needing more. his tip nudges that sweet spot within you, making you moan loudly in his ear, encouraging him to go faster. so focused on the squealing of your soaked pussy. he captures your lips, kissing you tenderly. you can feel his high approaching, twitching inside of you, and you needed to do one last thing before it hit him.
carefully you pull away, gripping his chin and pulling him face to face with you. his eyes are blown out with desire as he stares at you.
"tell me your mine, lo." you whisper against his lips.
logan can feel you clench tightly around him, waiting for him to give into you completely. he presses his thumb down on your button, moving in fast circles to get you there with him.
"f-fuck, i'm yours, baby." he moans, coating your walls with spurts of his release. "i'm yours."
"t-that's right." you moan, kissing him roughly as your high washes over you.
"you look so pretty like this." he coos, watching the pleasure run over you.
for a moment the two of you sit still, trying to catch your breath. logan's mind races, not meaning to cum inside of you but it's far too late now.
"lets keep this a secret between the two of us, huh?" he says while you play with his hand, mischievously. before he can notice, you pocket the ring.
"sure thing, baby." you reply. "i'll gladly be your little secret but have fun explaining those marks to the old ball and chain."
logan looks down at you and that wicked smile of yours, only to realize just how fucked he is.
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angelbarelywrites · 8 months ago
Text
♡ slashers scenarios | sharing a bed
♡ fandoms; The Boy, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)
♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡ cw; very suggestive content, implied smut
♡note; swapped out billy in this one bc i can’t imagine him sharing a bed with someone and not getting literally pornographic
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Brahms Heelshire
> Once he decides he wants to share the bed, he finds the biggest guest room bed and brings all of the comfiest pillows and blankets he can to make it perfect
> For you more than him, but he doesn’t feel too hurt when you push half of them to the foot of the bed
> It was a lot even for a king bed
> You’re reluctant at first, not used to sharing a bed
> But you find he’s very hard to say no to once you’re in that deep
> He tries to give you space, but it’s not long before he’s wrapped around you, clinging for dear life
> And he almost immediately falls asleep like that, head tucked into your chest
> You sigh and try and relax, petting his hair
> And you fall asleep with your hand still tangled in his black locks, holding him close to you
> You wake up to him nuzzling your neck and practically whining
> “Baby…wake up…”
> You’d ask him what the problem was…if you couldn’t feel it against your leg
> You spend most of the morning still in bed, lazily fixing his predicament
Micheal Myers
> He doesn’t get why you want him to do this
> You know he doesn’t cuddle
> You know he usually gets restless and wanders at night
> But there’s no reason to say no, and even he can’t stand how sad your pout is
> You hum and stretch, tucking yourself in and look at him expectantly
> He takes off his boots and lays on top of the covers beside you, stiff as a board
> You have to coax him to even take the mask off, but he still won’t relax
> You quickly realize he’s used to high security psych ward bunks, not big comfy queen beds full of stuffed animals
> “…do you…wanna sleep on the floor?”
> He pauses.
> Shakes his head and closes his eyes.
> After you finally fall sleep, he sits up, intending on leaving
> But you look so peaceful…he can’t help to stay and watch you. Just for a little while.
> When he touches your cheek, you press into his hand. Maybe a while longer.
> When you wake up he’s still staring at you, hand long gone from your cheek
> But once you blink awake, it creeps somewhere else..
Thomas Hewitt
> He’s almost nervous of the idea
> Y’all are certainly intimate with each other - just as intimate as you would be if you were married like his mama was planning
> But what if the family noticed you were in there? He’d kill Hoyt for calling you anything nasty-
> When he sees you in skimpy PJs, he immediately forgets his worries
> He has a huge bed because he’s a huge guy, so when you curl up in it alone, it’s almost comical
> He’s staring at you as he climbs in after you, cautiously removing his mask
> His shoulders relax a little when you smile up at him, still so amazed you can stand to look at him
>“Hold me?”
> He grunts and takes no time in pulling you flush, spooning you. He’s more relaxed than he’s been in a while, sure he’ll fall asleep in no time
> Until you give a tiny sigh and shift your hips, innocently adjusting
> It doesn’t take much for you to set him off- he’s touch starved and obsessed with you.
> Along with feeling him against your ass, you can literally hear his breathing change.
> “…Tommy baby? Want me to take care of that?”
> It takes another two hours before you fall asleep, both sticky with sweat and sated, your head laying on his broad chest.
Bubba Sawyer
> He’s so happy to have a sleepover- even if you live right down the hall in the same house (I cannot imagine you dating him and being allowed to leave the farm tbh)
> He gives you an updated tour of his room- he’s very happy to show you the collection of polaroids of you he hung up.
> You were wondering where those went
> Finally he drops you on the bed, giggling quietly
> It’s old but comfy, and he has plenty of stolen pillows and blankets, and even some stuffed bears
> He strips right on down to his heart boxers, leaving his mask on for last
> He takes it off slowly, giving you that shy look he always does
> You grin and open your arms and he’s more than happy to scoop you up with a coo.
> By the time you’re settled, you’re curled around his back
> He loves being the little spoon, even if he’s a big brute
> When you wake up he’s bursting back into the room with some slightly burnt toast for breakfast
> It’s a sudden wake up call, but a welcome one
> And you repay him in tons of kisses, all over
Vincent Sinclair
> Like some of the others he’s hesitant
> But you want him to relax, he’s been working so hard- so you take him away from the studio, and into your room
> You’re not even letting him so much as sketch until he sleeps
> He tilts his head and is almost pouting, trying to guilt you - even more so once you help him remove his wax
> Until you coax him into his stomach so you can massage his back, that is
> You’re clumsy and certainly not a professional, but your hands on him is enough to melt away the stress
> He suddenly rolls over and grabs your hips as he hears you yawn
> It’s your turn to pout down at him
> But eventually you relent and let him cradle you close to his chest as he hums a nonsense lullaby
> You keep him trapped in bed the next morning as revenge, again straddling him before he can get up to leave
> But this time, you’re most certainly not yawning
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sundrop-writes · 2 months ago
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Need
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Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Summary:
Daryl comes back from a run acting strangely needy, and you find out that Zach made him jealous. (You may have to thank Zach later.)
Or - Daryl fucks your brains out to prove to himself that you're his.
Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during early Season 4/The Prison Era.
Word Count: 3,000
The Walking Dead Masterlist | AO3 Link
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: this is mainly a smut fic - the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader and Daryl have a sexual relationship that skews slightly romantic; the reader's age is not at all specified; Daryl being very needy (hence the title); Daryl is more dominant the reader is more submissive, but there is no laid out rigid roles; Daryl is jealous and trying to 'claim' the reader after someone else makes sexual comments about her (when she is not around to hear those comments); mentions of Daryl drinking alcohol and smoking (does not take place during the fic, just a background element); some manhandling - from Daryl towards the reader (nothing unrealistic or beyond Daryl's known strength); oral sex - reader receiving (Daryl certified pussy eater); references to hunting/killing animals for food (come on, this is a Daryl fic); Daryl is slightly mean in this (he tells the reader to shut up) - but he's not vengeful or mean on purpose, he's just in a mood; spit kink - Daryl spits on the reader's pussy; pussy spanking (this was such a last minute addition and I am so glad I did); Daryl calls the reader 'woman'; overstimulation - towards reader; mention of the reader crying/having tears in her eyes (due to overstimulation); Daryl being very possessive due to his jealousy; hair-pulling - Daryl receiving; very slight anal play (Daryl tongues the reader's asshole - juust a bit); penis in vagina sex; unprotected sex - they don't use a condom and there are no mentions of other forms of birth control (don't be like them); there is no mention of Daryl cumming inside the reader, though because the fic ends before we get to his orgasm (sorry, Daryl); slight cockwarming; the sex gets rough toward the end; I believe that's it for this fic?
A/N: No, this was not the winner of the poll. But right now I am in a mindset for TWD fics because I have been watching the show and I think it's a good opportunity to get this one out of my drafts - especially because it's shorter and easier to edit. If it's not your thing, feel free to ignore it. Also, I am not doing a taglist for this one because a lot of people on the taglist last time did not follow my taglist rules (basically, they were tagged and they didn't show up to read the fic, so it feels like a 'why bother' type of situation). So I'm gonna clean out the taglist and after such a short time, I am considering quitting taglists altogether. Anyway, if you do read it, I hope you enjoy the fic.
...
Need. 
That was the only word you could use to describe Daryl in those moments as he threw you down onto the cot and ripped your pants off with record speed. The air was absolutely ripe with need, the likes of which you had never felt or seen from Daryl before. Especially not in this magnitude. 
Daryl Dixon was someone who rarely came off as needy. 
Since the two of you had started this relationship (it was strange to call it a ‘relationship’ when there was so little conventional romance to it, and so few words) - Daryl was never someone you would have described as ‘needy’. He was always the definition of calm. He was level-headed, quiet, reserved - even more so in the face of your intense needs. The more you became a puddle of melded need, when you boiled over into pure want, especially in his presence, the more he turned into a stone wall of uncrackable cold hardness that you wanted so desperately to see crack. 
It was a game the two of you had been playing since day one. And he hadn’t lost yet, not once. 
Of course, the sex was amazing - even if he never let that facade down. He made sure that your overwhelming, unhidden need always came first. He made sure that you had cum first - usually more than once - before he even considered sticking his cock inside of you or letting you drop to your knees in order to serve him. He was never selfish - a man that lived to serve, in fact. 
That was why it surprised you when he came back from a run that day and grabbed you by your arm, practically dragging you out to the admin block. It was a place that you and Daryl had set up a little nest for personal privacy in the old warden’s office. Daryl had chosen the location both for its privacy, and for the wonderful irony. 
He found it downright hilarious that he was someone who had been reprimanded by cops before the total collapse of society and had been nearly arrested half a dozen times (he liked to put the emphasis on nearly, because he was a fast runner and often disappeared into the woods where they didn’t care to chase him, in contrast to someone like Merle, who was a known drug dealer was of far more interest to them - and much slower). Daryl was someone who could have easily ended up in prison, and now he could sit behind a warden’s desk and smoke a stash of fancy cigars that he had found hidden, and he had polished off the fancy whiskey in between fucking you. 
And he took an even greater enjoyment in fucking you pinned against the warden’s desk - but for practical purposes, he had lugged a cot into the office and set up a more comfortable space for the two of you there. The two of you even slept there sometimes because he still refused to sleep ‘in a cage’ - as he put it. Everyone else in the prison liked to fake that they didn’t know where the two of you went, but really - they were just glad that your love nest was far enough away from everyone else that they didn’t have to be subjected to the sounds you and Daryl made. 
And you were glad that you didn’t have to pretend to go hunting in order to escape to the woods for some privacy. Especially because, even as capable as Daryl was, the threat of Walkers looming over your head while he fucked you did make it a bit difficult to get fully lost in the sensations. 
But all of that was far at the back of your mind while he shucked off his crossbow and tossed it aside carelessly (usually he was someone who was careful to put away his weapon, not wanting to damage it so that he wouldn’t have to waste precious time on repairs) - but today, there was something simply rabid about him. Something itching and impatient. 
You couldn’t deny that it turned you on, but you had to question what had caused the shift in him. Especially when all of your little games - your teasing, your flirting, your dirty words - hadn’t been able to crack him for months. 
“Daryl, what’s gotten into-?” 
You couldn’t even finish posing the question before he began ripping on the waistband of your pants once again. That tense irritability became potent in the air once again when the fabric got caught up in your boots, Daryl letting out a deep grunt and glaring at the obstacle. 
You reached for the laces in order to get everything off, thinking this was what he wanted, but he simply put two large, commanding, calloused hands on the backs of your thighs and shoved down - hard. He pinned you down to the cot with a tough force, something that made the metal of the supposedly temporary furniture squeal with a worrying sound. You almost didn’t hear it over the pitiful, whorish gasp that escaped your lips. 
He was never like this. He was never so desperate. 
You loved it. Your body was flooded by heat, equally as desperate within seconds. 
“Daryl!” You cried out, half confused, half hot red and turned on. 
Your cunt ached fiercely and clenched around nothing and Daryl locked eyes with that pulsing gash, letting out a pleased hum. There was barely a blink before he dove between his own hands, digging in his fingers in tightly where they held onto your quivering muscles and immediately he licked a long, hard stripe up the center of your pussy. 
Hungry. 
That was a word you would have used to describe Daryl many times before.
He was messy and shameless when he ate meals. You had seen him dig into game bloody and raw when he had taken you out hunting, when he was starving and impatient and truly treasured a fresh kill. 
Currently, that’s exactly what you felt like - a fresh kill, recently captured by him, a true prey animal under his grasp being absolutely devoured while you could do nothing more but lay there and take it. 
It felt utterly amazing. 
It felt like where you belonged. 
The room soon became filled with sounds - loud, adamant slurping as his tongue furiously worked over your cunt, creating the same kind of shameless slobber that he did when he was thoroughly enjoying a meal. Your gasps and moans shuddering through your lungs as the sensations rocked your body, the pitiful squeaking protests of the cot as Daryl leaned against you more, putting more weight on those rusting springs. 
He began moaning against your heated flesh while he continued to hold you down by your trembling thighs, and while your ears rang with blood and your face bloomed with heat, you soon realized that the distant, repeated keening sound you could hear - almost like a dying cat - was you. 
You were having difficulty catching your breath and you quickly became dizzy from the hot, heavy pleasure vibrating up your body from his tongue. Made even better by the feeling of his coarse beard rubbing against your sensitive pussy lips, and the deep vibrations of his moans against you. 
All you could do was tightly clutch onto the blanket you had used to make up the cot and buck your face against him, hoping for him to shove his tongue deep inside of you or put some more persistent attention on your needy, throbbing clit, rather than simply grazing against the sensitive organ with each pass, making you more and more needy - 
Daryl groaned into your cunt and then, much to your frustration, he pulled away completely. 
“Stop squirmin’.” He grunted at you, his voice a whole new shade of dark and lustful thick that you had never heard from him - one that made your whole body quiver. 
You let out a pathetic moan, more wetness gushing out of you. 
“Daryl, please-” 
“Shut up.” 
Somehow, him barking this rudely at you made you even wetter. 
You squeaked out another pathetic little sound, expecting that he would get back to devouring you like you were his last meal, seemingly for his own pleasure - but then, he managed to surprise you yet again. 
He used his hold on your thighs to spread your legs (as much as he could with your pants still tangling your ankles together). And then he pursed his lips and heaved a thick, heavy glob of spit onto you - aiming perfectly and causing it to land right on your sensitive, swollen clit. 
Just like his perfect mouth, it was hot and slick, and simply seeing the shiny bead come from his lips to land on you caused you to scream and buck against him like a cow being branded. Which is exactly what he had intended - for you to be branded by him, marked as his, fully owned by him. 
Hot tears of pleasure escaped your eyes and he locked right onto your gaze - even through the choppy dark curtain of his too-long bangs, his steel blue eyes pierced into your soul and the burning lust you saw there punched you in the gut. When he took one of his hands off your thigh, you didn’t have a moment to think about what he was going to do before he brought the heavy pads of his tough, well-worked fingers down onto your already sore clit and spanked you. 
Once, twice, three times - something he had done to you before, knowing exactly how hard to hit you without making it painful, just enough to jolt shocking pleasure through your body and make you sob. 
“Listen, woman.” 
He ground his voice again, lowly, making you shiver when he leaned in and gripped your face with that now wet hand, forcing you to face forward and pay attention to him. You stared at him through tear-misty eyes, absolutely enraptured and lustful, wanting nothing more than him. 
“This is mine.” He growled these words with quiet power, driving his point home with another smack to your cunt that had you crying out and seizing against the touch. 
“Yours.” You chirped back, eager to affirm it, your brain filled with nothing but him. “Yours, all yours. Daryl-” 
Before you could babble out any more affirmations, he took an even tighter, possessive, bruising death grip on you once again. One hand on your hip and the other on your thigh - trying to keep you right where he wanted you as he dove back in, just as hungry. This time he gave into exactly what you wanted, seemingly because your words had been what he wanted. He knew you all too well even without words, and he latched his mouth around your mound with intent, laving his tongue furiously across your clit without relenting. 
You weren’t sure which was worse - the teasing, or him tongue-fucking your clit like he was trying to drive you insane. 
Your hand flew to his hair with the intention of shoving him off as white hot sparks of overstimulated pleasure-pain flew up through your gut, but your muscles curled instinctively and you wove a tight grip into his locks without thinking. Unintentionally drawing him closer and locking him in place as you gurgled out cries of wounded pleasure and he continued to moan against you, almost making your poor clit numb. 
But of course, being as perfect at this as he was with everything else, he drew an orgasm out of you just as he wanted to. 
“Daryl! Fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m - ah!” 
He moaned against you in pure pleasure as it happened, and then he retreated down your pulsing hole to lick up every single bit of your wetness as it freshly flowed out of you. He continued to moan, slurping and flexing his tongue so he wouldn’t miss a drop, eating you like the finest delicacy he had ever experienced. His tongue even strayed down your perineum, dipping into your other hole a bit, clearly unafraid and never shy, not wanting to miss a single bit of your taste. 
You were left panting, desperate to catch your breath, and with your brain still completely out of commission, he stood up, his mind already on an entirely new track. You couldn’t contain your whine of disappointment when all of his warmth was suddenly gone, even his hands losing contact with your thrumming skin. 
“Daryl-?” 
You didn’t have long to question it before you heard the sound of a zipper. 
Not even knowing when you had closed your eyes, you whipped them open to see him shoving his pants down to mid-thigh and pumping his cock in hand a few stray times before he stepped toward you. You weren’t the biggest fan of the ‘bent in half like a pretzel’ position, as your back was starting to ache slightly, but he took the look of pure hunger in your eyes was all the consent he needed (especially with the way your gaze was focused on his cock, the slight glisten of precum beading at the tip). 
He was secure in knowing that you would stop him or tell him no if you needed to. 
And there were absolutely no thoughts of stopping on your mind when he put a hand back on your hip and used the other hand to guide his cock into you, sinking deep inside of your slicked, hot cunt in one smooth movement. 
Fuck - he always filled you up so fucking good. 
“Dar-” 
“All fuckin’ day.” Daryl growled out, tight through his teeth, taking only a single moment before he began to pump his hips forward, fucking into you. 
He wasn’t quite as furious as before, his pace slower now. Seemingly, he had gotten some of that pure need out of his system by eating your pussy. He began to thrust in and out of you at a leisurely pace, making you feel comfortably, pleasantly full. 
“All fuckin’ day, I had to listen to Zach’s goddamn yappin’.” 
Your brain was slowly coming back into function. 
He had gone on the run with Zach and Sasha. 
You thought Daryl liked Zach? 
Surprisingly, Daryl then reached for your shoes and began undoing the laces - perhaps now finally interested in getting your pants and shoes out of the way. You just laid back and let him do whatever he pleased, your cunt flashing with a warm, pleasant feeling - simply enjoying that it was Daryl fucking you. 
“Had to listen to that little smart-mouthed fuckin’ asshole-” 
Daryl let out another grunt, smacking his hips into yours particularly hard, causing you to let out a gasp. He took off one of your shoes and dropped it to the ground. 
“Had to listen to him go on and on about you.” 
What? 
Then went the other shoe. 
Your jeans followed soon after, easily untangled from your legs by Daryl’s deft fingers, making your legs free up to spread widely, inviting him in further - he laid himself down against your body, and you found your muscles much less stiff with your knees bracketing around his waist. There was another moment of comfortable fullness - stillness, as he laid there, nosing at your neck, seemingly enjoying your scent with deep breaths. 
You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp in a way you knew he liked, boiling over with curiosity until the question leapt out of you. 
“What happened with Zach?” You had to ask, still slightly fuck-dumb and confused. 
You didn’t know it, but hearing the name come off your lips was enough to trigger another intense wave of that feeling in Daryl. The jealousy, the neediness, the urge to claim you. 
Daryl let out another harsh growl - a sound coming from him that made your pussy leak around him and clench down hard on his cock. He grabbed both your hands and entwined your fingers with his - a fierce, demanding grip rather than a romantic one. He kept you pinned in place, right where he wanted you, and he began fucking his hips into you at a fast, hard pace that was enough to push a scream right from your lungs. 
“He - would-n’t - shut - the - fuck - up.” Daryl grunted in your ear, emphasizing each sharp syllable with a deep, harsh pounding of his hips into your pussy. “About you.” He whispered those words lowly, dangerously into your ear. 
“Daryl-” You gasped, your whole body dizzy and vibrating with that electricity once again. 
“About your ass-” 
He reached down and grabbed your ass - harsh, digging his fingers into the flesh with a possessive touch that made you cry out. He hammered his hips forward and used that touch to drag you toward his cock, fucking you onto him like a fleshlight for a few moments before he continued speaking. 
“About your tits-” 
He reached up and groped your breasts aggressively through your shirt, popping one of the tiny decorative buttons. A wreckage that would only serve to show off more cleavage in the end. Your nipples instantly became stiff under his touch and you arched into his hands - only for the rough, wonderful feeling to be gone too soon. 
“Daryl,” 
“He wouldn’t stop talkin’ bout what you might look like when you cum.” He growled out. “When he ain’t never gonna get to know.” 
It was thrilling, him being so possessive of you now. But you knew that it was so Daryl. Him being angry at Zach for speaking about you in a vulgar way, but holding his tongue - not speaking up then because he wanted to keep your relationship private, didn’t want to claim you in front of someone publicly. 
Or he simply kept his mouth shut because he didn’t want to lose his temper when they had a job to do. 
“He wouldn’t stop-” 
“Please, I’m yours.” You moaned out, grinding your hips into him desperately, needy for his full and focused attention. 
As much as you enjoyed the jealousy streak that had started this heated encountered, you needed Daryl to focus on you now - not on the words of some petty boy who had either been trying to rile Daryl up or didn’t even know the two of you were together because of the lack of PDA in your relationship. 
“Daryl, please. I’m yours.” 
“Tha’s right,” Daryl growled out, his voice dangerously low. “You’re mine.” 
He leaned tightly over you once again, and when his hips picked up speed - you were done for.
...
A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and there will not be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has already been written. If you like this and you want to see more of my fics in my style, you can check out my most recent fic Heaven's Gate, which is also a Daryl Dixon x Reader fic, or you can check out my other TWD works on AO3.
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