#pushin my luck

[mulletmitsuya]

y'alls prayers and wishes did me well because i got my report back for the first term (some people call it a semester idk) and i did really great❕❕❕

[bugsinthebayou]

FATHER BY THE FRONT BOTTOMS💥💥💥💥

[awkward-walking-potato]

request for jealous remy 👀 maybe some guy is flirting with reader at a bar and how he would react? maybe pietro has been flirting with reader a little to serious for the cajuns liking? definitely maybe some nsfw reaction 👀

The neon lights of the bar flickered in a hypnotic rhythm, casting a soft, colorful glow over the dimly lit room. It was a lively night—laughter, clinking glasses, and the steady beat of music filled the air, creating an atmosphere of easygoing revelry. I leaned against the counter, nursing my drink as I chatted with Pietro, who had been playfully flirting with me all evening.

Pietro was charming, in that quick-witted, cocky way of his. He’d been dropping compliments and teasing remarks, his silver hair catching the light every time he leaned in closer. Normally, I would’ve brushed off his flirtations as just his way of having fun, but tonight, something about it felt a bit…different. His words had a sharper edge, his gaze lingering a little too long.

I didn’t think much of it, though, until I felt a familiar presence at my side.

“Y’know, cher,” a deep, smooth voice drawled from behind me, dripping with a mix of Southern charm and something darker, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think Pietro here was tryin’ to steal somethin’ that don’t belong to him.”

I turned my head, heart skipping a beat as I met Remy LeBeau’s red-on-black gaze. He was leaning against the bar, casual as ever, but there was a tension in his stance, something simmering just beneath the surface. His smirk was there, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Pietro grinned, not missing a beat. “Hey, Remy. Just having a little fun, no harm done, right?” He flashed me a wink, clearly enjoying the situation more than he should.

But Remy didn’t seem to share the sentiment. He stepped closer, his presence commanding the space between us. “Fun’s fun, Pietro, but you might be pushin’ your luck tonight.”

The playful tone in his voice couldn’t quite hide the edge of possessiveness, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. This was different. This wasn’t just Remy being his usual laid-back self—this was him staking a claim, making it clear that I was his, whether anyone else liked it or not.

Pietro’s smile faltered slightly as he glanced between us, clearly sensing the shift in the atmosphere. “Alright, alright, no need to get all territorial, LeBeau,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.”

With one last mischievous grin in my direction, Pietro zipped off, leaving me alone with Remy, who was now standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest. “Remy, you didn’t have to—”

He cut me off, his hand reaching out to gently cup my chin, tilting my face up so I had no choice but to look into those burning red eyes. “Didn’t have to what, cher? Watch some speedster make eyes at my girl?”

His voice was low, dangerously smooth, and it sent a thrill through me. Remy was always so effortlessly charming, but this side of him—the side that was possessive, almost predatory—was something else entirely. It made my pulse race, a mix of anticipation and desire curling in my stomach.

“He was just being friendly,” I managed to say, though the words felt flimsy even to me.

Remy’s thumb brushed over my bottom lip, his gaze darkening. “Friendly, huh? That what you call it?” His voice dropped even lower, barely more than a whisper now. “Ain’t no one who gets to be ‘friendly’ with you like that. Not while I’m around.”

My breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “You’re mine, cher,” he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. “Ain’t gonna let anyone forget that. Especially not you.”

Before I could respond, his mouth was on mine, claiming me with a fierce, possessive kiss that left no room for argument. His hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head back as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine with a hunger that made my knees weak.

I melted into him, my hands clutching at his jacket as I kissed him back just as fiercely, the rest of the bar fading away until there was nothing but the two of us. His other hand gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I could feel the hard lines of his body pressing against mine, the heat between us building with every passing second.

When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard, our foreheads pressed together. His eyes bore into mine, his voice a rough whisper. “Ain’t no one who’s ever gonna make you feel the way I do, cher. Don’t forget that.”

I didn’t think I could forget it if I tried. The intensity in his gaze, the way his body felt against mine—it was all-consuming, a fire that threatened to burn me alive, but one I had no desire to escape from.

“Remy…” I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of everything I felt for him.

But before I could say anything more, he was kissing me again, slower this time, but no less intense. His hands roamed over my body, claiming every inch of me as his own, and I couldn’t help but gasp as his lips trailed down my neck, leaving a searing path in their wake.

He pulled back just enough to whisper in my ear, his voice thick with desire. “Let’s get outta here, cher. I got plans for you tonight, and none of ’em involve sharing you with anyone else.”

A shiver of anticipation ran through me at his words, and I nodded, unable to form any coherent response. Remy’s lips curved into a wicked smile as he took my hand, leading me out of the bar and into the night, where the promise of what was to come hung heavy in the air between us.

As we left, I couldn’t help but glance back, catching sight of Pietro at the far end of the bar. He raised his glass in a silent toast, a knowing smirk on his face. But the moment passed, and then it was just Remy and me, the cool night air wrapping around us as we walked away.

The second we were outside, Remy pulled me close again, his lips finding mine in a kiss that was all-consuming. He didn’t stop, not even as he led me toward his motorcycle, the kiss only breaking when we reached it. He climbed on first, then pulled me on behind him, my arms wrapping around his waist as the engine roared to life.

As we sped off into the night, the wind whipping through my hair, I couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. Remy’s possessiveness, his jealousy—it had only made me want him more, and the way he had reacted to Pietro’s flirting left no doubt in my mind about how much he wanted me.

And tonight, I was more than ready to show him just how much I wanted him too.

[josephquinnswhore]

pleasure me pink - joel miller x female reader

Summary: Joel finds a sex toy you’d been hiding from him.

Word Count: 2.3k

Content Warning: (no apocalypse) dom! Joel, mentions of sexting, use of vibrator, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, overstimulation, squirting, humiliation, bondage (using a belt), swearing. Established relationship, a little bit of insecure Joel, use of nicknames (baby, angel, ma’am, sweetheart, slut.)

Note: holy fuckkkkk I would die lol can this pls happen to me. @cool-iguana

You see her, in all her glory; the bright pink bulbous head staring at you through your half-full of cotton and lace pantie drawer. Biting your lip, you half-heartedly throw a few pairs of panties over it, trying to cover it up.

You’d contemplated telling Joel; but there were too many what ifs.

What if he got mad? Annoyed? Insecure? The last one she couldn’t bare the thought. So she’d just.. kept it a secret. Not that there was anything wrong with masterbation, you’d felt more inclined to feel guilty about hiding it from Joel.

“Baby, did ya hear me? Said we’re late, c’mon get dressed ‘fore I change my mind and strip you bare and take you here.” Your legs quake at his offer, growling voice half warning; half promise.

You let a soft groan leave your lips. You and Joel had promised your parents you’d come to theirs for dinner tonight, it had been a long few weeks coming, you couldn’t just.. not show up. It would break your mommas heart.

“Just gotta brush my teeth. Two minutes, promise!” You plead and Joel raises a brow in doubt.

“Baby..” He warns.

“Two minutes Joel!” You promise, making quick work to the bathroom before brushing your teeth.

Joel had rolled his eyes and grunted as he waited in the bedroom, wondering what had your attention so intently that you hadn’t heard him calling out; till the third time he addressed you.

Quietly, he pulls out the draws, grimacing when one draw squeaks open. To his luck, the tap was running, an annoying habit of yours he seemed to be ever grateful for in that moment.

Next draw; nothing. He grunts, feeling frustrated. Why couldn’t he find anything—he was so sure that there was something.

He opens the top draw with a feeling of irritation. Why did it take you so fucking long to brush your teeth—

Oh shit.

He blinked heavily as his eyes took in the sight before him, he wanted to pinch himself to see if it was actually real.

He stares at it; the bright pink vibrator half hidden by your skimpy lace underwear, staring back at him. Daring him to touch it, to question her.

But then she would know I went through her shit. Said the tiny voice in the back of his head, that made him scared to react in that moment.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts as you turn the water off, he quietly shuts the heavy chestnut oak drawer and steps a foot away, sitting on the end of your bed, having a playfully annoyed look on his face.

“See? Two minutes.” You grin at him, hand outstretched as if to congratulate yourself. “By the way, your shirts inside out.. doofus.”

Joel didn’t actually know how long you took. He could’ve spent half an hour rummaging through your draw standing there shocked and he wouldn’t have realised.

Instead he taps his watch, a coy smile on his lips as he stands. “Only just made it. Pushin’ my damn buttons already.” He groans as he notices his shirt, pulling it over his head as he stands to fix it.

“Yeah yeah, hurry up now, we’re gonna be late.” You quip. Joel could scoff, seeing as how you’re the reason they’re nearly twenty minutes late to leave the house already.

“Yes, ma’am.” This time his shirt is on the right way before he leaves the house.

As much as you loved your mother, her house smelt stale and her cooking was always bland or over cooked. The fact alone made it difficult to show enthusiasm to being out of bed-away from your home.

The other factor was Joel’s hand had never left your body since you’d left the house. He’d always loved touching you.. anywhere his hands could manage.. but this? This was odd.

“Here hon. We forgot to give it to you last time you visited. I hope you like it.” A bright pink scarf, one you’d likely never use, one that would serve its life decorating the back of your cupboard.

Not that you were ungrateful of such a gift.. but your mother had just taken up crocheting.. and you’ve got dozens of identical ones in matching colours. The pink just seems.. a bit out there.

“I think that colour suits ya nicely darlin’. Gonna look so pretty ‘round that pretty face of yours.” Joels hand finds your inner thigh, the size of his hand meant he could grip underneath your thigh. Fingertips drawing shapes on your skin, the action had you reeling.

Fuck, not here.

You clench your thighs together to try and stop Joel’s movements, he only smirks and looks at your mother who pats his shoulder.

“I hope she’s treating you right Joel, if she’s not send her my way and I’ll make sure that changes.” Your mom had joked playfully, ruffling your hair a little, as if you were a teenager and not a grown adult.

“She treats me well, ma’am. Sometimes she could use a little opening up. But she’s perfect.” Joel’s praise goes straight to your cunt, already slick and puffed lips sliding against your dampened underwear as if they could provide some friction.

You’re too frazzled to say anything, staying out of the conversation as Joel and your mother converse. He keeps his hand on your thigh, occasionally slipping up past the hem of your dress, thumb grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Close.. too close, but also not close enough.

Your fingers pick at the wool of the scarf, trying to ground yourself in the focus of rubbing your fingertips against the softness of the pink fabric.

Every molecule in your body wants to tear Joel away from this conversation, say your farewells and take Joel in the car, have his thick fingers inside you to relieve some of the pain building in your stomach. But you’re stuck here listening to them yabber on about something you don’t understand.

It’s clear Joel’s punishing you.. but for what?

The car ride was uncomfortably silent, Joel had turned the radio down—you watch the digits found down to zero and beg for them to come back.

Minutes without sound, only the revving engine of Joel’s pickup fills your senses, the noise was overbearing and it almost causes sensory overload.

“Joel—“ You cant finish a thought, nor form one. Because he holds his hand up to silence you.

“No talking. This car ride is to be silent if you want me to fucking touch you when we get home. Do you understand that?” His voice is low, a dangerous growl in which you took seriously.

So you nod. That was not good enough for Joel.

“Speak. Yes or no.” You wanted to argue, fight back. Now was not the time.

“Yes Joel. I understand.” He grunts in response to your hushed reply.

You didn’t dare speak a word as you entered the house, not even as Joel slightly pushed you up the stairs, where your punishment? Reward? Awaits you.

“On the bed. Now.” You obey, your body lies on the bed, looking up at the ceiling as you wait for Joel to climb over you, speak to you. Anything.

You hear ruffling, but don’t dare to look, the familiar sound of your draw opening had your heart ramming so hard against your chest it felt dizzying. Your pantry draw, the vibrator.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck..

He pulls it out, inspecting it before sitting in between her legs, device in hand. It’s tiny in comparison and he wonders if it actually feels good—compared to him or at all.

“What’s this angel? Don’t fuckin’ lie to me either.” Your body involuntary trembles at how calm, yet threatening Joel could sound.

“Vibrator..” You mumble, eyes scanning the room for something to gain your attention away from Joel.

His large hand grips your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. He looks curious—unimpressed. “No, you look at me when you’re speakin’ to me.”

You have no choice but to look at him.

“I know what it is, what I don’t understand is why you have it.” His eyes scan your own, looking for any indication of reason. “Thought you said I was all you’d need. You lyin’ to me angel?” He said mockingly, urging a reaction from her.

You shake your head frantically—the humiliation of the situation was unnerving. “No, no it’s not like that.. I only use it when you’re gone days at a time for work.”

He grunts at her. “So those texts an’ videos I send ain’t enough no more? Gotta defile yourself with a toy like a slut?”

“They are enough, they are.. you are. Sometimes I just need more than my fingers.” You whine, Joel doesn’t see any dishonesty.

He decides on your reward, humiliation.

He tosses to toy at her, it lands right next to her hand.

“Show me how you use it.” You hesitate, wondering if it’s a challenge—a trick.

“Now.” Joel demands, his hands making quick work to roll the fabric of your dress up above your hips. He lets out a filthy groan when he comes face level with your soaked panties.

“Made a fuckin’ mess of yourself already, dirty girl.” He mutters, mainly to himself. A part of him is relieved that he was the one that did this to you.. not that toy.

You feel your face warm as Joel watches you, his thick fingers curling around your panties before he tears them off you, throwing them onto the floor behind him.

Under Joel’s watchful gaze, you hesitantly turn on the pink wand, positioning the rounded head of the toy at your clit, the low buzzing of the toy on your favourite setting had your hips bucking and a soft moan escaping your lips.

Joel wants to hate it, how good it’s making you feel. Practically replacing him in its minimal efforts to make you feel good.

You work the toy around your clit, the sensitive bundle working up the coil in your stomach already, the pleasure from it has you unable to form a single thought. The only thing on your mind was you wanting to cum.

You’re a whimpering mess, hair is messy and starting to form small knots from your head withering on the pillow. Hips bucking every few seconds as the vibrator hits the spot that makes your toes curl, giving Joel the show of a lifetime.

He hates the way you’re moaning. He hates the way you look so fucking beautiful with your face scrunched up. He hates the way his cock is so fucking hard he can’t bare to not be inside you anymore.

Fuck the punishment, he decided finally. He needs to be inside you. To prove his worth to you.. that he’s better.

Joel strips his jeans off, he wraps his belt around your hands that holds the vibrator in place, keeping it attached to your clit. You look up at him in surprise and groan, legs trembling around him as he positions himself in between your hips.

His thick cock is weeping with precum. The sight of your glistening pussy only entices him more. He runs a thumb down your slit, gathering the juices and he groans. “Jesus Christ.”

Without warning he rams the thick head into you, the jolt of pain and pleasure has your eyes clenched shut and mouth wide open as you scream his name.

“Joel.. fuck. Joel!” In reply to your breathy voice screaming his name, his hands lift your legs and place your feet over his shoulders. His strong arms come down beside your head and he rails into you.

Hips slamming into yours as his thick head comes to the hilt inside of you, roughly nudging your cervix. The combination of his thick cock filling you, ramming your g-spot and the vibrator forced onto your clit has you reeling—you feel dizzy and you can barely hear Joel moaning.

“Fucking—hell this pussy feels so fuckin’ good baby what — what the fuck.. did you.. you just squirted all over my cock.” Joel’s voice barely registers in your head, until you hear what he says next.

“Gonna fuckin’ cum already.. fuck.” The droplets of sweat built up on his forehead drop onto your own. Animalistic grunts leave his lips and it pushes you to the edge.

Your orgasm that was tethered finally snaps, unable to hide the fact that you’d squirted for the first time ever, your legs shake around Joel’s head as they tighten around him, your cunt clenches Joel so perfectly he erupts inside of you, thick warm ropes of his cum fill you, overflowing out of your hole as he twitches and pulses inside of you.

Joel stays there for a moment and you’re trying to push him off—the vibrator still held onto your clit with the belt that had tied your hands, Joel weakly unties the belt and wipes the stray tears that had fallen down your cheek.

“You okay sweetheart?” His voice is breathy, but those deep brown eyes are full of concern.

You nod your head, a tired “mmhmm.” Is all you can muster right now, the sound of blood rushing through your body and ears ringing as you try to ride out the overstimulation of your climax.

He holds the toy in his hands, looking at you with a devilish grin, sitting it on the nightstand. “I think I might like this thing after all.”

You groan and roll into his chest, facing each other on your sides in your bed—full of each others specimen and bedsheets contaminated. That could wait for the moment.

Joel kisses the top of your head and nuzzles into your hair. “Dunno what I was so worried about.” He confesses to himself, admiring you as you feel sleepiness overcome your senses, you manage a small smile at Joel’s confession.

Joel knew now without a doubt in his mind he wasn’t competing with the toy. He was working with it, and he is good enough.

[boop-le-snoot]

masterlist

untitled

I just had this vivid scene play out in my brain. Dropped to my knees in a local chain grocery store, had to pretend I was grabbin the bootleg brand chips from the bottom shelf. I'm definitely normal about this. Yea, I'm so abso-fucking-lutely normal about this.

So what if I'm ovulatin'? It ain't me sittin' here clenching my fuckin' thighs, no ma'am, nu-uh. Even my predictive text talks like Daryl now- okay, I may have a tiny little problem. I hope I never, never ever get the chance to look Norman Reedus in the eye.

4.5k words. VERY VERY NSFW. Just sweet and a little rough monkey lovin' where Daryl enjoys something for the simple sake of it feeling good. A little undercooked plot-wise but the smut has been grilled to a perfect medium-rare, slightly juicy, collard greens and mashed potatoes on the side with the mushroom sauce. Two packs of cigarettes later (he owes my lungs an apology),

Imagine you and Daryl going out on a - run, scouting mission, whatever - and hunkering down in a secure cabin for the night. It's summer, it's hot and stuffy inside, but luckily, the cabin has running water, even if it's ice-cold. So you wash up and apply some of the essential-oils-homemade-perfume-thing that someone at the community made for you.

You change into your PJs and come downstairs to amuse yourself til the sun sets completely.

He's smoking next to a crack in the boarded up windows and you, being on friendly terms, banter a bit and bum a cigarette off him. He doesn't mind when you use one of his knees to sit down. As you two joke, you ruffle his hair slightly, not missing the way his eyes narrow in pleasure.

That sparks a conversation about letting oneself to feel good things.

You say that it's different for women because they get judged for wanting to experience pleasure just for the sake of it and Daryl says he always thought it to be stupid. You say that he's not exactly the resident expert on that, which briefly makes his natural competitiveness overshadow his shyness and self-loathing.

Petulantly, he places your hand back in his hair and stresses the purring growl of pleasure as your scratch his scalp and let his moist tresses glide through tour fingers.

You laugh and say you're gonna braid his hair one day, in jest, and he growls back "yer pushin' yer luck, pretty girl," but his smile is hidden rather badly.

In revenge, you stomp out the cigarette and straddle his lap fully, attacking his head with a massage worthy of a spa parlour professional.

He grips your waist as his head hangs forward, a low rumble coming from his mouth as his nose comes that much closer to your neck.

Daryl takes a deep breath, and sensing you unbothered by it, says "ya smell good. like apple pie."

"Oh," he doesn't miss the slight hitch in your breath, "'member when I fixed up the 'lectric in number twelve? they paid me in some essential oil perfume they made. feels nice to... not smell death all day, every day. 's a nice change."

He nods, agreeing, remembering your strong feelings about doing some things just because they feel good. Not because it's useful or to survive, but just for a surge of happy hormones in your bloodstream.

Despite his best efforts to distract his body, one wiggle from you is all it takes for his excitement to be obvious. He freezes, but you adjust simply, politely, keeping your weight off his boner. Confused by your chill attitude, he lifts his head, forcing you to brush all of his hair out of his face.

Daryl feels vulnerable and exposed.

Your eyes slide down to his lips, once, twice, but you - just as stubborn as him - pick them back up. As he parts them to run the tip of his tongue over them in hopes of finding something to say, he notices it fully.

He notices the flush of your skin. His hands move on your waist, provoking another blink-and-youll-miss-it twitch of your fingertips and toes.

Gathering his ducks in a row, Daryl leans into you - your neck, not your lips, not yet - softly running the tip of his nose along your collarbone and up to your jaw.

"That feel good?" Voice gravelly low, it sends reverb through your chest.

"Yeah," you breathe quietly, your fingers in his hair shaking slightly. You lean more into him and that is all the encouragement he needs for the time being.

"Wanna make ya feel good," he admits, dry lips and scratchy stubble gliding along the length of your jaw. His breath is hot on the shell of your ear. "Can I do that, suga'-pie?"

"Mhm," you respond, his cheek now against yours - you rub into him gently, like a cat. The affectionate headbutt makes him chuckle quietly in his throat.

He continues nosing around your neck, feeling the muscles in your back and your thighs unclench one by one. You're practically on top of him, almost right there, over the throbbing erection in his pants, and he feels your control slip away bit by bit.

The flimsy wooden chair you two are sitting on creaks; Daryl doesn't place much trust in it. Planting his feet wide, securing his position, he inadvertently lands your cunt right over his cock. Both of you shudder and hiss at the contact.

The damn chair creaks again.

He curses under his breath, hands sliding down to your ass, hoisting you up and urging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he stands up, sending the raggedy chair clattering to the floor.

Your breath catches in your throat, your hands grab at his shoulders, kneading into the meat there. A few steps later, both of you land on the couch heavily; it creaks, too, but your legs have room and your body can finally relax against Daryl as you stabilise yourself on the surface.

He's panting, open-mouthed, looking at you with those stormy blue eyes, searching for something in your earnest, open face.

The corners of your mouth tug up.

He runs his palm over your back, settling on your nape to pull you into him. Your mouths connect; the kiss is slow and unhurried as you take the time to explore each other's mouths. There is no need to rush, no risk of being caught or ambushed; it really feels good. Following someone's advice for once, Daryl lets himself become utterly lost in the sweet kiss.

Your hands are in his hair, tugging softly every now and then, tipping the cup of him ever-so-slightly for short groans to spill into the kiss. Sometimes, you let your hands traverse the hills of his shoulders, the plains of his chest, fingertips poking around the collar of it.

It's overstimulating but at the same time, it's not enough. To give you a hint, Daryl timidly strokes the single bare inch of skin between your shirt and your pants, feeling the goosebumps even through the thick, calloused skin of his working hands.

The way your hips respond: restless and fluid, pressing into him just that much closer, prompts him to slide his hands further under your shirt, mapping the bony ridges of your spine. The skin along it is sensitive on any mammal, that much he knows, so he expects the twitch, expects the breathy moan leaving your lips; he revels in it, the kiss growing humid and sloppy.

Your hands slip into his shirt, finally, your warm palms on his hot skin. He's burning up inside out and you're- you're diligently adding fuel and accelerant to the fire. Blunt nails scratching over his uneven skin, you snag his bottom lip on your teeth as moisture gathers in the corners of your mouths.

The need for oxygen is strong.

Daryl inhales deep as he rests his forehead against yours.

Both of you are panting. Necking like horny teenagers, not a care in the world, no worry for tomorrow; it's near impossible to focus on anything else but the pulsating need at the spots where your bodies are pressed together.

It's all too much but neither of you want it to stop.

"Holy shit," your awed mumble causes Daryl to smirk lightly; as you shift in place, he swears he can smell how wet you are. His jeans must've gotten ruined by now, if not by you then by the weeping of his own cock.

It feels almost regretful to proceed. This exact feeling, if someone could figure out how to bottle it, would have people sellin' their soul for it, Daryl is damn sure.

It's the moment before lightning spears open the stuffy air of a muggy, stormy day. The millisecond before a heavily pregnant cloud gives birth to a solid wall of ice-cold rain; the blink of skies as they generously cool the overheated earth, filling up its parched cracks with invigorating liquid.

"Fuck," Daryl groans, tossing his head back onto the backrest of the couch, watching you through lidded eyes, "whatchu doin' to me, girl?"

You offer him a shaky, sheepish grin before your lust takes over your senses, pushing you back up to him. Your mouth connects with his neck, suckling, licking, nipping at the caramel skin there.

Daryl tastes of cheap soap and clear sweat, that musky scent of gasoline and leather unfurling into notes of pinewood and smoke as you nose deeper; right next to his ear, tickled by his hair, he smells and tastes like the best dessert at the carnival inside the town fair.

A little greasy and drenched in spices. You can't get enough of him. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out flat and lick.

Daryl groans. It's open-mouthed and loud. His hands grab your hips firmly, dragging you over the tent in his pants.

Both of you hiss at the friction.

Your knees wobble as your stance widens in an attempt to cover more surface are, to bring the feeling closer to your clit. There's at least four layers of fabric between your skin and his and it is something that is so sweetly, arduously annoying.

He pushes down again, harder this time, offering another delicious groan that you can't help but swirl in your mouth and recreate. The noise attracts his attention; Daryl watches you, watches your face, the flush on your chest, your heaving breasts. Like many men, he licks his lips utterly unintentionally when his eyes settle on your hard nipples.

Inwardly, you find enough clarity of mind to chuckle. Men and breasts nevel fail to amuse you when placed in close proximity. You push them outwards and his mouth is immediately right there, shirt and all, rolling a stiff nipple gently between his teeth.

The soft, damp cotton adds an edge to it; you feel your underwear slide over your cunt, the fabric absolutely saturated with your arousal.

Daryl's hands knead your ass as he takes in his fill of your breasts.

"That's, fuck," you pant, needing him to know, "that's really fuckin' good."

"Yeah?" He groans wetly before taking in as much of your breast as he can fit in your mouth; there's no finesse to it, just raw, unadulterated need.

"Uh-uh," you nod: his eagerness is what takes the cake.

Daryl tugs your shirt up; up and over your head and fuck knows where it flies, forgotten the moment his lips are back on one nipple, his fingers on the other. He rolls, he bites, he sucks.

Your breasts are wet with spit and sweat.

His breath ghosts over the damp areas, pebbling the tender bud to a state almost frigid.

You moan, loudly, wetly and openly. You gasp, you squirm, anything to quell the restlessness. It's like an army of fire ants trotting their primal, tribal dance under your skin, reducing you to a disoriented mess with a one-track mind. Your fingertips are pale where you hold onto Daryl in a feeble attempt to ground yourself.

He's smirking when he surfaces up. There's spit glistening on his chin, his lips are puffy, the deepest, most delicious shade of maroon. It's obvious the state of your undress and the intensity of your want is echoed by him.

"Feel good?" He has the audacity! to ask.

"Yeah," your response is lackluster in words but the tone and the pleading expression on your face conveys it all: your desire, your desperation.

With you on top of him, the only relief to your aching cunt so far has been provided by his bulge rubbing against your clothed slit. It's not enough, it's not even nearly enough.

Daryl's biceps bulge as he effortlessly lifts you up, "c'mere," placing you back-to-his-chest.

Your legs fall open on your own accord, hanging limply over his muscular thighs. The meat of his cock digs into the cheeks of your ass; you feel it twitch along with you when Daryl's thick palm cups the mound of your pussy in a gesture both tender and possessive.

"Fuckin' shit," his low mumble travels down the shell of your ear, "this all fr'me, sugar?"

"Yes," you breathe out as he slides his middle and ring fingers up and down your slit. There is no hiding it: your cunt had soaked right through your panties and the cotton of your pajama pants.

With some more maneouvering that comes unfairly easy to him (in your opinion), your pants join your t-shirt somewhere in the deepest pits of hell (a far corner of the room). The panties stay on and for that, you're grateful - a little - as the simplest, straightest of touches on the sensitive meat of your cunt feels like clear honey being poured over a-

Daryl taps two fingers at the top of your slit, right where you outer lips part to reveal your swollen clit.

"Fuck!" You yelp.

"So responsive," he mumbles. He sounds fascinated as he spreads his fingers, the rough tips gliding along the skin and the thick meat sliding over the soaked fabric. You quiver and he can't resist running his mouth, "that feel good?" His smirk is a little mocking, a little breathless.

Your resolve hops between strangling Daryl and begging him, the rabbit of your heart leaping in your chest, doing a binky when your lover shows you mercy by moving aside the sticky fabric covering your crotch. It immediately cools and you wince as it touches the hot flesh of your thigh.

Daryl's inhale is sharp, deep and loud as he dips the same two thick fingers inside your slit.

You're swollen and so wet, its practically dripping. Your clit twtiches under his fingers.

"Jesus Christ," he exhales his disbelief, "you like that, huh? This all for me?" The question proves to be rhetoric when the arm that holds you by your waist tightens on you and Daryl grinds his hips up into the small of your back.

The pitch of his voice drops impossibly low, "bet you taste sweet," as he scoops up some of the fluid, fingers snagging on the snug ring of your entrance, before bringing them up to his lips. He noisily sucks your cunt off his fingers, slurping, "fuck yes!"

Your eyes flutter shut as you cunt pitifully clenches around nothing, no doubt making an ever bigger mess between your legs and on his jeans. Your soft whine is an earnest compliment to the man doing his best to clean up your mess.

Daryl repeats the motion several times, scooping up the sticky droplets of your cunt juice, immediately sticking his fingers in his mouth.

You feel a little sad you can't see it, but your imagination supplements that which is lacking. You imagine his brow, furrowed; his eyes, closed; the tight 'o' of his lips around his fingers. Your cunt flexes again, spasming.

Daryl's reward for it is to circle your clit with a featherlight touch of a single finger. His breath is heavy as he reaches lower, same finger sliding to your entrance: not breaching it, just circling, like a predator circles its prey. He must have the patience of a saint.

You, however, do not. Your hips have a mind of their own as they arch into him, your cunt so empty, it practically hurts.

"Tell me whatcha need," Daryl orders, the low of his voice seasoned with a pinch of pride and a pinch of desperation, "tell me, sugar."

"Inside," you keen, out of your mind, "I want you. Inside." There's drool gathering in the corners of your mouth.

Daryl obliges, but not before lubricating the entirety of his thick finger by sliding it over the outside of your cunt, causing another loud keen to fall from your lips.

When he pushes in, you swear you could cry from the sheer relief of finally getting something for your hungry cunt to wrap around.

Experimentally, he drags his finger in and out, slowly, tense as he watches your reaction, before adding in another. To say they're big would be an understatement: long and thick and textured, it's everything your cunt has craved for the past some minutes. Daryl pumps them in and out as you pant through the new sensation, acutely aware of the loud squelches coming from your hole with every plunge.

Your swollen lips and throbbing walls attempt to keep him hostage with every pull.

Daryl curses, something completely unintelligible, his rough voice completely lost to lust. "Gonna cum for me, eh?" He breathes as the contractions of your cunt become quicker, more rhythmic.

Your neglected clit pulses, your nipples are stiff as rocks, your breathing is uneven and shallow. You couldn't find your voice even if you tried; you don't try at all, letting your body do the talking. You fuck back onto his fingers to the best of your limited ability to move as short, loud, primal noises choke their way up your throat.

The throb of his cock against the small of your back is what sends you over the edge.

Daryl's panting, whimpering himself at the unabashed state of your being; you don't think he realises it, even, his eyes set on your cunt gripping onto his fingers.

When it clenches for one last time, you arch, you paint the walls of the room with curses and whimpers that would make even a prostitute blush as more sweet slick drips out your spasming hole and onto his fingers. Your legs tremble as your entire body goes limp in Daryl's hold.

Soft lips rest on the crown of your head, hot, uneven puffs of air frizz your damp hair.

As your brain does a factory reset, you become hyperaware of the hard, thick flesh pressing into you; a stark realization comes over your being, washing your body in a new layer of shivers. Your cunt still tingles, still aches for more.

"Daryl," you mumble, feeling him go stiff and hot, his name like the sweetest honey on your lips, "I want you inside me."

He shudders, he pants, his cock twitches pitifully once again in his pants. The tight denim had provided some relief, enough to focus on you, enough to stretch the time a little bit more. But now, with your body warm and lax and fucked out of your skull, how could he resist?

He didn't want to resist. He wanted to feel good.

In your dazed state, it was easy for him to pick you up, bridal-style, and carry you towards the singular bedroom in the cabin. He grinned at the clumsy way you immediately reached out to him, tangling your fingers in his hair, placing sloppy kisses on the nearest inches of skin you could reach.

The whine you let out when dropped onto the cool comforter?

Daryl's cock twitched demandingly.

The man stood at the foot of the bed, admiring the view: you, blinking up at him, breasts moving with each shallow breath, feet on the comforer and legs bent at the knee, a hint of flushed, swollen pussy peeking out from the crooked gusset of your underwear.

This may not be heaven but it was as close to it as he'll ever get.

The buckle of his belt clinked, denim shuffled as it was left somewhere behind him- Daryl wasted no time dropping to his knees, using two strong hands to bring your cunt up and into his face. The force of his inhale made your sensitive pussy quiver, it was something that made him smile against the fabric of your panties as moved it aside once more - this time with his teeth.

"Oh, fuck!" You yelped as the broad, wide, flat expanse of Daryl's tongue licked messily up your cunt, hole-to-clit.

"Mmm," he groaned, "fuckin' candy apple pussy," taking another taste. And then another, and another until your skin was raw from the stubble of his beard and you were left in a shaking, whimpering, wet mess of a human. His face was drenched. "Messy girl," he chided in a soft mock as your cunt provided him with another gush of arousal, "ya like bein' messy for me, don't cha?"

"Uh-uh," you arched, your usually concise vernacular reduced to whimpers, groans and two-syllable words that barely made any sense to your own ears, much less anyone else's.

Daryl was like a wild animal, lapping up the liquid, uncaring of the mess he made of you and of his own face.

"Please," you fought with your tongue and finally, finally won, "I wanna- uhh," well, maybe not quite.

Momentarily, he withdrew, wiping the side of his face on the inside of your thigh, "you want what? Tell me."

In your state, he could have touched you anywhere and it would have reduced you to a mindless, blabbering mess. So you settled on the next best thing. Your hand, the one that was in his hair, tugged him up - or tried to.

Daryl's responding growl, the shift of his shoulders, the absence of a single hand on your thigh - you knew the tug had him palming himself through his boxers. Another, purposeful tug was given, another growl followed as he stood up.

You weakly pushed yourself up higher on the large bed.

In the dim twilight of the bedroom, Daryl stood, shirt soaked through and through with sweat; his chest heaved as damp strands of hair fell over his face. They were unable to conceal the glistening layer of you on his chin, neither they could hide the blown pupils of his stare. There was almost no blue visible in his eyes.

You licked your dry lips, forcing them to cooperate, "c'mere," your hands stretched out towards him.

Daryl crawled on the bed and over you, sitting between your spread legs. Obedient, he leaned into you, placing sloppy, damp kisses over your face as you wound your arms around his neck. The tent in his boxers hovered less than an inch away from your bare cunt.

"I need ya'," you breathed, tasting yourself as you licked into his mouth, hoping to convey with you body what you couldn't with your words.

"Ya sure, sugar?" Ever the gentleman, Daryl pressed his clothed cock over your bare cunt, ruining his underwear even further; his muscles flexed under your palms.

"Uh-uh," the heat, the feel of his thick cock backtracked any progress you'd made on getting your vocal cords and your brain cooperate. There was nothing but lust and saliva gathered in your mouth now, something that both of you shared during another slow, wet kiss. Your teeth clashed, your tongues ran over each other, all graceless and sloppy.

With one swift, ragged motion of his hand, Daryl shoved his boxers down and over his cock, freeing it from the tight confines; that action alone was enough for him to let out a grunt as the cool air hit his leaking, flushed tip.

The same tip that slapped against your clit, jerking your body and his.

"F-f-fuck," Daryl wheezed, fisting his cock at the base, running the tip slowly over your lips, your clit and down to your hole, "m'not gunna last for shit like this."

Just get inside me!!! You wanted to scream. Instead, you wiggled your hips, you squeezed his shoulders.

The fat head of his cock slipped in, slowly, steadily. More wet, sticky noises got lost in the growl coming from Daryl's gritted teeth.

Your cunt was sucking him in, all wet and hot and snug and constantly flexing, rippling as it adjusted to his size. The roll of your hips that followed was utterly unintentional, driven by the most primitive of instincts.

"Oh, sugar," Daryl grasped your hip tightly, holding it in place, "fuckin' shit. What're you doin' to me, woman?" His speech slurred.

All you could reply was a series of small breaths, 'ah-ah-ah's' with every inch of his cock sliding into you, until you felt his heavy balls pressed against your ass.

If your eyes weren't clenched shut, you would have seen the wild look in Daryl's eyes, the way they darted between the blissed-out look on your face and the root of his cock secured against the entrance of your cunt.

Slowly, he withdrew, hissing at the smooth pleasure of your wet pussy sliding over his cock, and then he slammed back in.

Your body curled, arched; a shriek left your lips at the sudden realization. You held onto him tightly, his shoulders, his arms; the sweet feel of his skin, slick with sweat, bombarded your senses, drowning you in that natural, masculine smell of him.

You babbled some nonsense, something about how good he felt, how he fit just right and so nicely, how he was so good to you-

"You're so good to me," Daryl objected, Daryl stated, "s'fuckin' sweet. My sweet, messy girl."

The words alone brought you closer to the edge as he hammered away inside your oversensitive cunt. In fairness, he could have flicked your clit just once, or even taken his mouth to one of your hard, throbbing nipples-

Daryl's need to feel you come, to clench and gush around his rock-hard cock was at the forefront of his mind, followed closely by awe at the way your body molded perfectly against his. The way your thighs quivered as they attempted to wrap themselves around his hips, the desperation in your grip on his shoulders.

"Fuck!" He cursed, teethering at the very edge of his orgasm, "come for me, pretty girl, c'mon," he urged, swallowing his own moans and gasps.

"I- uh," you, too were almost right there. The coil in your stomach at its most tense, it sent small tremors inside your cunt, shocks of pure, hot, liquid ecstasy-

That traveled down Daryl's cock. Like damn rings during a heated game of muckers, the spasms of your cunt collected at the root of his shaft, one on top of the other, until he could do nothing else but rut roughly, sloppily into the equally sloppy mess of your cunt.

He felt it. It began somewhere at the deepest part of you, squeezin' the head of his cock firmly and traveling all the way down his shaft, until each ring of pleasure popped, releasing his seed into you-

Throbbing, your cunt pushed and gushed, a flash of lightning zapping your clit as Daryl's pubic bone ground into it with force. A hoarse scream tore from your throat, your body curling inward with the force of your orgasm. Strong, heavy spasms of his cock shooting hot ropes into you lulled you into the aftershocks.

It made both of your bodies limp with exhaustion. The cord had snapped and tension finally leaked out, dissolving like smoke and fog into the open air.

Sweaty, sticky and hot, the two of you panted your relief onto each other's cheeks.

Your lips connected with the rough stubble on Daryl's. Hair hung over his face, obscuring your smile.

"Whatchu grinnin' at?"

Boy, did he sound fucked-out. All smoke and gravel and spice and everything nice.

"Feels good."

"Heh," he chuckled, the noise coming from somewhere deep within his chest, "sure does."

[anathemaspeaks]

Could I request number 23 and 24 with Grimmjow x reader? 💙✨

hey! here you go 🩷

check out my prompt list, and send in your own requests.

prompts #23 and #24:

"quit looking at me, you’re making me nervous."

"do you know how to knock?"

you stepped into the bath, the warm water melting away all of your troubles. you let yourself relax under the steady stream of the shower, feeling the tension leave your muscles.

after a while, you dried yourself up and stepped into your cozy hotel room. you and grimmjow had just finished a job, opting to stay at a nearby hotel for the night. you both had separate rooms, unfortunately.

exhausted from the day's exertion, you flopped onto the bed. you looked around for your phone, but you couldn't find it anywhere. you decided to go check grimmjow's room - maybe he knew where it was.

you just hoped he wouldn't get annoyed and do something stupid like break your phone. since his room was right next to yours, it wasn't much of a walk. you twisted the knob and opened-

wow.

and right in front of you was grimmjow. in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. damp, ocean blue hair sticking to his forehead, water droplets falling from his face, trailing down his neck and down to his glistening, sculpted abs.

you've never been jealous of water before.

"do you know how to knock, brat?" he huffed, face now slightly pink from you seeing him a state like this. his eyes bored straight into yours, the sheer intensity of his piercing blue eyes had you buckling at the knees.

"o-oh! right, i was going to, but i thought i'd be disturbing you- and i'm looking for my phone- and you'd be tired and - sorry!" you rambled, your voice an octave higher than normal, face heating up at the way you could see every muscle moving. you couldn't look away, god, he looked gorgeous.

"quit looking at me, you're making me nervous" he muttered, turning away from you.

you froze. he wasn't angry? you made him nervous?

you don't know if it was the deliriousness you felt after seeing his shirtless body, or the exhaustion from the day's work, but you felt a sudden surge of confidence.

you make him nervous.

"i can't" you admitted, hesitantly. you were testing the waters, it was his move now. the air crackled with unvocalized tension. his eyes met yours again, an unrecognizable emotion in the pools of his irises.

"because?" he questioned, voice deep and soft, sending goosebumps across your arms. taking a shaky breath, you inched closer, the butterflies in your stomach amplifying by the second.

"'cause you look really, really good" you managed, voice just above a whisper.

"you're playin' a dangerous game, brat. jus' look for your damn phone and go to sleep" he said, eyes avoiding yours once again, chest rising and falling along with his breaths.

now you were only a foot apart from each other.

"admit it, grimm, we work well together, as much as you'd hate to acknowledge it," you stated. that damn nickname again, why did he even let you call him that? why did he let you work with him all the time?

"'s that what you're gonna call it, brat?" he scoffed. he moved one step closer, placing a calloused hand on the side of your jaw. his touch sent shivers down your spine, he was even more ethereal up close.

"always pushin' your luck" he said softly. a challenge.

"mm, but you like it that way" you teased, sending a playful smile his way while batting your eyelashes up at him. he felt his resolve crumble - why the fuck were you so pretty?

he didn't respond, eyes intently locked onto yours, you could just drown in his. being so close to him was intoxicating, the feel of his palm on the side of your face felt so warm.

"and what if i do?" he whispered, finally accepting the truth.

he loved the pretty smile on your face when you two would bicker, sweet giggles escaping your mouth at his half-assed insults. you made his heart flutter.

you made him nervous.

fuck.

could you hear his heart beat? you were so close that he could hear you breathing. he was sweating even more now, the water dripping down his collarbones.

he looked so handsome like this, face slightly pink, nervousness in his demeanour, water still dripping off his god-like body, hair wet and clinging to his forehead.

you couldn't help it, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he shifted his down to your waist. he leaned in, his grip on you so gentle, before finally kissing you.

his lips were warm and demanding, yet surprisingly so tender. you melted into him, hands running down his shoulders, across the broad expanse of his back, feeling every muscle relax under your touch.

you tangled a hand into his soft blue hair, tugging at it, breathless gasps escaping both of your mouths. when you finally broke away, it was solely due to the lack of oxygen.

he pulled away reluctantly, his forehead resting against yours. his chest heaved with exertion, eyes searching your face, his full attention only on you.

the next morning, you woke up next to him. tangled in the sheets, his toned arms wrapped around you, you realized you forgot to find your phone. after a while of searching, you found it in his jacket pocket. right as you were about to accuse him-

"it fell on the way here, so i picked it up is all. don't think too much of it" you smiled anyways.

"you want me so bad"

i hope you liked itt <3

[princessbrunette]

bodyguard!jj pulling his gun out on someone who’s all up in your face 😳😳 It would be so hot Id probably have to change my panties

୧ ‧₊˚ 👠・₊✧

trying to be ‘respectful’ on the job could be a pain in jj’s ass — and he’s not just talking about trying to be professional around you. you were sociable, too sociable, so more times than not the weekend would come and you, millionaire kook-nepo baby turned social media whatever would come dragging your bodyguard anywhere and everywhere that you could.

but like jj always told you, you could take the man out of the cut but you couldn’t take the cut out of the man. it was often his actions would come across brutish, irrational, aggressive— but he did what he could to protect you. maybe he cared about protecting you a little too much, for selfish reasons instead of professional.

he stands a few feet back, giving you your privacy at this networking party you’d dragged him too. don’t get him wrong, he loves a party— when he gets to smoke weed and drink beer. coming to a party strictly to stand there and stare at one girl all night wasn’t exactly his mojo.

his bodyguard senses that he’d gained from working for you started to tingle as he snapped out of his thoughts, eyeing your body language. you were stiff, and whilst your back was to him he somehow knew the exact face you were making. this guy, the asshole you were speaking to was all up in your face, too touchy, a totally weird and off putting vibe. jj didn’t wanna come across as overbearing, but then again — he was doing his job.

he arrives at your side within a millisecond, staring down the guy in your face. “step back a little for me, bro.” he tries to be civil about it all whilst standing his ground, his small unblinking smile a thinly veiled threat. the guy scoffs, clearly off too many of the free champagne flutes being liberally handed out.

“babe, why is the help talking to me?” he sneers, amused and jj’s eyes flutter, taking a deep breath to not cuss him out.

“thats my bodyguard.” you frown, meekly — but you defend jj anyway. that calms him just a tad.

“thats your bodyguard?” he smirks, finally letting go of your arm to stare at jj. “what are you gonna do if i don’t step back, huh?”

the blonde bodyguard is done with the games, whipping his pistol out from its holster and holding it directly to his forehead, collecting a sea of gasps and shrieks from decorum-obsessed party goers. “i’ll light this god damn room up, that’s what i’ll do dude. you gonna step back? or am i gonna have to blow your brains out infront of a pretty girl.”

“jj!” you clutch your glittery necklace, stepping behind him nonetheless. the rich asshole has no idea what hit him, backing away and scurrying off with piss in his overpriced boxers. jj licks his lips casually as he looks around at the scene he caused, tucking the gun back into its holster as he turns to look down at you.

“we done here? think it’s time to peel, unless of course you’d rather be escorted out by the actual security guards. they look pretty mad, so…”

you nod, wordless as you process what just happened, letting him guide you away from the party by the small of your back. maybe it was the champagne talking, but seeing jj protect you like that seemed to go straight to your panties, your thunderous heart beat having nothing on the pulse through your clit. you bite your bottom lip, turning to look up at him as he walks you out the building.

“don’t give me that look. was doin’ my job, cupcake. the dude was pushin’ his luck.”

“i can’t believe you did that.” you let out in a breath, and it’s only then once you get outside into the cool evening air he slows his pace, turning to look at you. his face falls a little, wondering if you were really mad. he says nothing, awaiting his scolding. “i… can’t believe you did that.” you repeat, this time falling into a fit of giggles, covering your mouth.

his brow raises, sizing you up.

“uh, how much of that champagne did you drink?”

“you were really gonna shoot that guy just for standing too close to me?” you’re elated, approaching him with a doe eyed grin looking nothing short of a disney princess. he shrugs, not understanding the hype.

“i mean the guy was practically begging for it.”

“thats so hot.”

“what now?”

“cool, that was so cool.” you correct quickly, stepping back. “thank you.” you smile and he blinks at you at few times, knowing exactly what he heard.

“yeah, don’t sweat it… just doin’ my job, sugar.” he starts to walk you to the car — this time with a smirk on his face that you daren’t question.

୧ ‧₊˚ 👠・₊✧

[norman-fucking-reedus]

More GirlDaddy Daryl cause the love I have for him is actually not funny

I thought of a name a longgg time ago for his daughter that I think is super cute, It was gonna be Darylina but then I thought how Daryl would hate that THEN I thought how DARYL would make CAROL the grandma so obviously Carolina is the perfect name

She’d be called Lina for short, Carol as a joke and Carolina when shes in buttfuck trouble (which teenege Lina gets into a lot of but shes her mothers child)

I feel like she’d be a total badass, a good balance between Daryl badass and Y/n badass. She’s a hardcore daddys girl so by age ten she was already mastering the Dixon way of hunting.

“Ya got light steps naturally, let’s keep em tha’ way kiddo”

“Okay daddy!”

Lina would be more like Daryl as a kid, and I feel like Daryl was a rowdy kid.

She practically bounces off the walls from the assigned hours of too early in the morning to too late in the evening. Getting jumped on before he gets out of bed wasn’t exactly on Daryl’s bucket list (but he wouldn’t have it any other way)

Yes, she constantly climbs onto her father like a cat. No, there’s nothing he can do to get her squealing giggling frame off him. His only option is to accept his fate and play 21 questions directly over his shoulder.

“Lina! M’working, get offa me”

“Wha’cha workin’ on?”

“Stuff”

“Wha kinda stuff?”

“Adult stuff”

“Wha kinda adult stuff?”

Daryl uses her whenever he works on his bike, and his massive fingers can’t fit to reach something. She feels very important when her tiny fingers reach it, and she lets Daryl know how very useless he is.

“Daddy yer not gonna be able to fight if ya can’t fit yer fingers in stuff”

“Really? Damn. Good thing yer gonna protect me”

“No daddy, yer have to protect yerself because m’gon go protect mommy”

“Tha’s good idea, mommy can’t protect herself”

“But mommy can fit her fingers in stuff”

“Then why ya protectin’ her ‘nd not me?”

“Because I like mommy”

“I like mommy more”

Oh maybe I should mention they bicker over EVERYTHING. And guess who has to be the tiebreaker?

“Babe! Tell this rat tha peanut butter is indefinitely better than tha jelly!”

“Daryl she doesn’t even know either of those are and everyone knows jelly over butter”

“See mommy is always right!”

“Are ya cheatin’ one me??”

There’s a very strong love-hate relationship between him and teenage Lina, especially when hormones start to change and tempers flare.

Once again, Lina is a mini Daryl and Y/n, so when she shoots back during arguments, she’s aiming for the head.

“For tha last time, no. Too dangerous and m’not gon be able ta keep an eye on ya. End of discussion, quit pushin it”

“M’not a fucking kid anymore. I didn’t want ya keepin’ a damn eye on me in tha first place?!”

“Gettin real ballsy there little girl, I said wha’ I said”

“Ballsy? Little? Clearly I got more balls than ya since yer too fuckin’ scared to take me”

“Carolina. Wherever this is comin’ from, cut it the fuck out.”

“I’m gonna cut you the fuck out.”

“Scuse me?“

“Good luck on the battlefield when ya can’t even fuckin’ hear”

After every hard slam of her door, Daryl is left to stand in the deafening silence feeling like an utter failure.

Obviously, he gives her the time to decompress before going to apologize, this time with his crossbow in hand.

The door creaks slightly open before all the way, however there’s no little girl that comes running out into his arms. She stands tall in front of him, mirroring his expression of anxious discomfort.

“Ya stay close, no matter what. Understand?”

“Okay”

Daryl hands her the crossbow.

“Look- I know yer not a kid, but yer still my kid. Yer gon always be m’little girl an yer growin’ up scares tha livin’ shit out of me”

“Ya’ve killed people.. isn’t tha’ scary?”

“Wha’s scary tha’ if I didn’t kill ‘em they might’ve killed ya”

Lina hugs him tearfully.

“M’sorry fer arguin’ with ya”

“Nah, m’sorry fer not givin’ ya a chance”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

(Daryl’s inner child definitely gets healed each time after apologizing and talking it out. He breathes so much better and just feels so much better AUGH my baby)

[michverdun]

"Y'know, I never thought I'd give up the bandit life either. Hell, back in my day I was infamous, although it was under a different name. I mean there was nobody on earth that could stop me, until I met him."

"It was a fairly regular stickup, I just needed some money after a string of bad luck, but as soon as I left that bank there he was. The sheriff was staring me down, wearing nothing but a hat and the shiniest pair of underwear, and I mean it was sparkling in the sunlight. The sight of him made me think that I lost my damn mind!"

"He started flexing those muscles of his, and now I'm guessing he was tryin' to intimidate me so that I'd surrender. I wouldn't say I was intimidated, but I did freeze. I don't think I've ever seen someone so massive in my damn life. He was flexin' muscles I didn't even know existed, like how the hell was I supposed to know some guys could spread out their back muscles like they're wings? I thought he was tryin' to fly off!"

"So, in my shock the sheriff came over and scooped me up over his shoulder and shipped me off to a jail cell. Only jail cell in the entire damn town in fact. First time I ever been caught and it was by one sherrif in a ghost town! Ooh I was pissed. I spent a good while thinkin' up a way to get out of that cell and get my revenge, when he came back."

"I definitely wasn't the nicest man to talk to at that time, but he took every ounce of venom I spit with the patience of a saint, and soon enough I'd calmed down again. I couldn't help hit he had a way of distractin' me, although anyone who could see the crotch of my jeans could easily see why. I don't know what it was but just watching that man move made my heart beat as fast as when I was runnin' for my damn life. Without even tryin' he hit my one weakness: all of those complicated feelins' I had for the men around me."

"He had to have known at that point, but he didn't say a word about it as we talked at first. He told me about his situation, where the townsfolk pushed him into being sheriff even though he didn't have to disposition for it and could barely shoot a gun, and he was just trying to do the best he could. I started feelin sorry for him, among other things."

"It was then that he tried to get me to give up my life of crime, try to make a more honest living. Even as I was runnin' on pure instinct at that point I still refused. How could he tell me to give it all up after everything I'd been through. But he kept pushin', kept treating me like a worried friend than a stern sheriff, and... Well, do you know that saying? 'All cowboys are secretly fond of each other'? Well, turns out I wasn't the only one hiding secret affections. He showed me one night too, and his... 'affection' was pretty fuckin' big too!"

"After that, it was over. If you're the sappy type you'd probably say I did it for love or something like that, but the heart of an outlaw still beats in this chest, and he sees it as simple economics. there ain't another man like him out here, and having him is worth more than anything I could ever steal. He's priceless."

[gaycragula]

Go Fuck Yourself, Graves

Pairing: Phillip Graves x Male Reader Warning(s): 18+/NSFW under the cut

Warning(s): multiple orgasms, top reader, bottom graves, semi public sex, mentions of voyeurism, graves gets off to the though, overstimulation, friends to lovers :], confessions at the end Word Count: 4211 AO3 Link Account Navigation I need him on my dick so bad omg

“Come on, Phillip,” you groaned, rubbing at your forehead where a headache had begun to blossom. “You can’t tell me it’s not a good idea.”

“I can and I have, Lieutenant,” your dearest commander retorts back. He’s kicked back in his chair, looking at you with disdain. He had listened to your little idea, waiting for you to finish it before giving you your answer. No. It was all he had said and it irked you.

“Give me a reason,” you say, leaning forward on his desk so you were eye level with him. There was a fire he didn’t see often in your eyes as you glare at him. Were you trying to intimidate him?

You were lucky you were you Graves thought to himself, eyeing you down. You were his right hand man. His best friend even. If you’d been anyone else talking to him like this, even looking at him the way you were, he would’ve executed them on the spot. 

Graves hummed, squinting like he was thinking before shaking his head. “I said no. You’re pushin’ your luck,” he says your name with such disdain. You roll your eyes, scratching at your neck as you kick your chair away from his desk.

The huff you let out was nothing short of aggravated and annoyed as you stood straight, pushing your hair out of your face. The sly smirk Graves had on his face was proof enough that he enjoyed what he did to you. “Go fuck yourself, Graves,” you mumbled as you turned to leave,  

“Do it yourself,” he had instinctively taunted back. He caught you at a bad time it seems. Pent up with frustration and not having masturbated in almost 2 weeks.

You had stopped where you stood. “Is that a request, sir?” You ask, turning slightly to watch Graves’ reaction. 

“What?” He sat up in his chair, eyes narrowing as he looked at you. “Repeat that soldier.”

“Was it a request, commander?” You repeat, turning completely to lean forward on his desk again. “Or was it an order, sir?” You spit out the honorific and it has Graves’ cock jumping in interest.

A red blush spread across his cheeks as he sputtered on whatever he was trying to say. You kept eye contact with him for a moment before standing up. Graves swallowed as you walked around his desk.

His hands came up to grab your arms as you turned his chair around to face you. “Is it?” You ask again, pushing his chair back against his desk. 

“If it is?” His voice is barely above a whisper, his words shaky as he tried to maintain some control. He didn’t want you to have the total satisfaction of breaking him down. As if he had a chance.

“I’ve never been one to be insubordinate, sir,” you whisper in his ear. It was a lie, you both knew that. That didn’t stop Graves’ breath from hitching or his hips from jerking in his chair. He almost moaned aloud when your lips ghosted over his jaw. “Do you want me to fuck you, Commander?”

The grip on your arms tightened and the whine Graves gave you was sinful. “Please.”

He arched into you as you tilt his head back, dragging your teeth down the front of his neck. The moan he let out vibrated in his throat and you were eager to feel more. Your tongue lathed over his Adam's apple and you could barely keep in your chuckle as you felt it bob.

You turned his face away from you, following his jawline to the spot where his jaw met his neck. He was letting quiet, breathy moans out as you trailed down his neck.

He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle himself as you sank your teeth into his neck. You pulled back from his neck, admiring the mark for a moment with a smug smile. A glance to his face had you feeling even more smug. His eyes were lidded, looking at you in his peripheral. His chest heaved with each shaky breath he took. 

You turn his face back towards you, ghosting your lips over his before connecting them in a slow kiss. It drove Graves wild. He drowned in your taste, chasing your lips when you pulled back. He couldn’t hold back the whine when you turned your head just enough for him to miss your lips.

His lips pressed against the corner of your mouth before he dipped to your neck. You wrapped a hand around the back of his head, sighing quietly as you let him enjoy the momentary control he had. He nudged your jaw with his nose, pushing your head to the side to get better access before he was nipping at the tender flesh. 

You tangled your hand into his hair, almost missing the soft gasp he let out against your skin. Your fingers ran over his scalp, bringing a lovely shudder from your commander. A gentle tug on his hair got him away from your neck long enough for you to tell him to get out of his chair. 

He did so without complaint. 

You turned him around, clearing off a small area of his desk before pushing him down against it. His chest was flat against the dark wood, arms cushioning his head, his legs spread just wide enough for you to fit between them. That pretty little ass on perfect display for you.

Graves tried to relax as much as he could, trying to ignore the shaking in his legs. He’d been so pent up as of late. Every touch you gave him fueled the fire in his stomach.

You pushed his shirt up, revealing the tanned skin of his back. A shiver racked his body when your hand ran down his spine before it branched across the expanse of his back. He let out a breath as you traced over scars he’d acquired over the years. 

Your touches were tickling, simply ghosting over his skin. You admired him, watching his muscles flex under your fingers as you brush over his lower back. 

It drove him wild, your gentle touch. He’d known you to be rougher. Your grips on the field just bordering on painful when you help someone, pulling them behind cover, helping them up. Even touching someone in passing, you were more forceful than what was necessary. He’d been on the receiving end many times.

So to have your hands on him in such a gentle manner, almost like you would hurt him if you were anything else, had him keening, his heels digging into the floor to stabilize himself. 

Your thumb pressed into his spine, traveling down the length of his back with juuust the right amount of pressure. “You’re tense, sir,” you say. Your voice is just as gentle as your touch and it has Graves jolting from his thoughts. His back twitches in response.

“I’m just pent up,” he lies through gritted teeth. He can tell you don’t believe him but you don’t push for the truth as you wrap your hands around his waist to undo his belt. You drop his belt in his chair behind you, your hands making quick work to get his pants undone and halfway down his thighs. He’s already half hard, his cock twitching as cool air meets his skin.

Graves gasped as he felt your lips press against his spine. Your kisses trailed down his back, stopping right at his tailbone. He expected you to pull away then;  what he didn’t expect was the nip to the flesh of one of his ass cheeks. 

He gasped your name as he looked over his shoulder. You’d gotten on your knees behind him, your fingers digging into the soft, pliable flesh of his thighs. Your lips drag down his thigh, leaving fire in their wake. The muscles of his thighs flex under your touch, goosebumps rising to his skin as you continue your ministrations. You take a moment to suck a hickey on his inner thigh, pressing kisses over it before you continue.

The prettiest little whimpers fell from Graves as he buried his face back into the crook of his arm. You trail back up his thigh, over his cheek before Graves feels your breath fan right over his hole. You see his back tense at the feeling and you’re running your hands over the back of his thighs.

“Relax,” you whisper, waiting until the commander does so before running your tongue over his hole. The sound that comes from his mouth is absolutely pathetic. A loud, drawn out whine falls from his lips. He feels you smile against him before you’re spreading his cheeks to gain better access. 

His boots squeak below you as he tries to steady his shaky legs. You’re of no help as you tongue at his ass, your hands gentle as they continue to run up and down his thighs. He almost shouts as you suddenly dig your nails into his skin, dragging them down his flesh. Marking him, he realized with a moan, burying his face in his arms. You pull away from him momentarily to catch your breath before you’re back on him.

Your tongue presses into him and he moans, the sound muffled by his arm. He’s startled by the way you eat him out- like a man starved. He bites into his arm to further muffle himself, absolutely embarrassed at how good having your tongue in him feels. 

One hand cups his balls and you feel him jerk above you. You hum against him, patting his thigh as you fondle his balls. He’s panting into his arm, the stimulation making his mind go blank. All he can think about is your tongue and your hands on him.

He’s embarrassed at the whine that tears from his throat as you pull your tongue away from him, kissing back up his spine as you stand up. “Lube?” You ask.

“Second drawer under the manilla folder,” he responds, glancing back at you over his shoulder as you rummage through said drawer. He hears you let out a triumphant huff and the click of a lid before the bottle comes into view. You douse your fingers with a generous amount, rubbing the stuff between your fingers to warm it up a bit before pressing one digit against Graves’ saliva slicked hole.

Your clean hand caresses his lower back as you spread the cool liquid around his hole. Graves can’t help but to relax at the touch, trying to shift his hips in a way that will get you to dip your finger inside. The chuckle you give has him shivering. “Please,” he whispers, looking at you with those gorgeous eyes of his.

The tip of your finger breaches him and he keens, eyes fluttering shut. You work your finger in slowly, fucking it into him until you’re knuckle deep in him. He reacts so pretty as you crook your finger in search of the little bundle of nerves. 

You know you’ve found it when Graves’ body tenses and his breath catches in his chest. “That feel good?” You hum, massaging the spot to see his reaction. He nods eagerly, panting as you bully his poor prostate. 

Even with your fingers inside of him, you were gentle. Your brushes against his prostate were soft, just hard enough for him to get a jolt of pleasure with each pass. You have him drooling on his sleeves with just one finger.

The second finger prods at his hole. “Ready?” You ask, smoothing your hand over his lower back. He nods, taking a deep breath as you worm the second inside. The stretch is pleasant, Graves thinks, moving his hips to grind back against your fingers. You allow him to do so, leaning down to litter his still clothed upper back with kisses.

You stretch him open slowly, taking your time so as to not hurt him. Going slow like this lets you hone in on the shaky inhales, quiet hiccups, and muffled moans Graves is gracing your ears with. You take an agonizingly slow pass over his prostate with your fingers. You swear you could’ve come in your pants as Graves draws out your name in a moan, a big glob of precum dribbling from his cock into his boxers.

A third finger was quick to join and you were watching in fascination and Graves’ ass hungrily sucked in your fingers. He stretched so nicely, you smile as you hold him open for a few seconds, simply watching the way he twitched around you. 

Soon, Graves was babbling about wanting more, needing more. “Your cock. Please.”

Who were you to deny your commander?

You remove your fingers, biting back a grin as you see him clench down on nothing. Graves is watching you over his shoulder, watching you with those pretty eyes as you undo your belt, setting it with Graves’ in his chair. You undo your pants just enough to pull your cock out. 

Graves’ eyes widen in anticipation. You’re going to fill him so nicely. His eyes never leave you as you lube yourself up, letting out quiet sighs as you finally give your neglected cock some stimulation.

You press your tip against him, watching as he gives a whole body shudder at the feeling- the thought of being filled. You tease him just a moment longer, pressing the head of your cock in for just a moment before pulling out again.

He curses you, just loud enough for you to hear. “Bastard.”

You give him an amused chuckle as you begin to slowly push into the blonde. He arches off the desk with a loud moan. He was right. You’re not even all the way in and he feels so full. You can hear him panting below you, hissing in pain when you would push in just a little too fast.

His sounds of discomfort were met with quiet apologies and a pausing of your movements until he gave you to go ahead.

Your breath shook as you finally bottomed out. Your hips pressed against his and the keening whine Graves let out was nothing short of addicting. Your body draped over his, hands planted firmly on the desk on either side of his shoulders. Your lips pressing short kisses behind his ear as you wait for him to adjust.

He’s tight, warm around you. You can’t believe this is happening. You don’t know how long you’d been crushing on the blonde. Years; you know that. You’d been working by his side for close to 6 years. Knew him before that for a few years- long enough for him to trust you to be his right hand man. 

 Each twitch of your hips has him clenching around you. “Don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this, sir,” you whisper, your voice low, barely audible over the thrum of his heart in his ears. 

If the way he tenses was any indicator, you think he heard you. You continue.

“Can’t get you out of my head.” 

His legs shift as he arches his back with a moan of your name. You press your nose into the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath in. He was wearing your favorite cologne, the scent filling your nose before you were letting a shuddering exhale out.  

“Smell so fuckin’ good.” Your hips draw out slowly and Graves groans. “Y’know the cologne you’re wearing s’my favorite?”

Graves takes a mental note as he shakes his head. He can’t find the words he wants to say, having to settle on a whine of your name and clenching around you. “Feel so good around me,” you praise, lowering to your forearms to drag your lips across his cheek, right over the scar he has.

You push back in just as slow, choking on your breath as Graves lets out a strangled moan. He stretches perfectly to accommodate your prick and you find yourself biting your lip as you watch yourself disappear into him. 

“You take me so well. Look at that,” you praise, not missing the sharp inhale Graves gives in response. His face is bright red, the flush extending to his ears and disappearing into his shirt. You litter kisses along his neck where you can reach as you begin to roll your hips into him. You start slow, letting him get used to the feeling.

His hands clench into fists as he gasps with each draw of your hips. He sounds so pretty. His mouth is open in silent gasps. Gentle. Even in his muddled state, he can hear you whispering to him, your lips pressing soft kisses against his skin. It crossed his mind once. Were you making love to him? Some of the other quick fucks he’s had had been rough, quick. Not you. You were taking your time, making sure he was comfortable- not in pain.

It took him begging for you to speed up for you to do so. You waited for him to give you the go ahead. You were desperate to please, speeding up until the quiet sound of your hips hitting his filled the small office. He could hear you letting out your own desperate, though quiet, moans.

It was a dream come true for you.

Graves raises to his forearms before reaching for one of your hands. He interlocks his fingers with yours and pulls it under him, holding it to his chest. You can feel his heartbeat like this. You flush at the action- imagine that. You’re balls deep in your commander, rutting into him like your life depends on it and this is what flusters you.

You let out a barely audible whine before you’re pressing your face into the back of Graves’ neck. A strangled chuckle rumbles in his chest as you press featherlight kisses against his neck. 

“Close,” Graves pants, eyes fluttering shut as his hand squeezes yours. You take your free hand and snake it down his body to fist his cock. He nearly shouts, his hips instinctively shooting forward into your touch. 

He fucks himself back onto your cock before his hips shoot forward, caught between the stimulation your hand granted him and the feeling your cock was giving him. “Stay still, Commander,” you whisper. 

The use of his title paired with your lovelorn? voice has him doing what you say. He fights the urge to seek his own stimulation and you grant him exactly what he needs. Your hand runs over his cock with vigor, a stark contrast to your hips. 

Graves comes in your hand with a hiss, his head lolling forward as you fuck him through his orgasm. You whisper praises against the shell of his ear, slowing the roll of your hips until you’ve stilled in him and he’s gone soft in your hand. “Stop?” You ask, biting back the chuckle as Graves shakes his head almost immediately.

“Please don’t,” he whispers, turning his head in an attempt to catch your lips. You grant them to him, the kiss sloppy as you start moving in him again. His hand squeezes yours hard as he gasps, the overstimulation racking his body with pain. The hand on his dick remains, groping him gently.

You stay slow, watching his body tremble with each draw out. He’s moaning out loud now, the pain bordering pleasure as you brush against his prostate with every other roll of your hips. “Might wanna quiet down. Don’t want everyone to hear you, right sir?” You tease, groaning as Graves tightens around you in response, his own moan giving you your answer.

“Oh? You like that idea?” You pick up the pace a little, enjoying the way Graves hiccups as tears prick at his eyes. “Want one of your shadows to come in? See you like this?”

He can only nod, eyes rolling into the back of his head at the thought. He wants them to know who he belongs to. Your breath is hot against his shoulder and he’s realized you’ve pulled the collar of his shirt away from his neck. “Can I bite you?” You ask.

Graves’ cock jumps in interest and you feel it. You can make out the quietest ‘fuck- please’ between his moans and you don’t waste any time sinking your teeth into the tender flesh of his shoulder. It brings a cry from Graves who does nothing to muffle it. You kiss around the mark apologetically before sucking accompanying marks around it. 

He curses lowly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth. His cock was hard in your grip and you gave it an experimental squeeze. Graves arched away from you, his hips jerking away from your hand, back onto your cock. “Too much?” 

He nods and you pull away from his cock. You went to wipe your hand off using a nearby towel, stopping when Graves says your name. “Give me your hand,” he whispers and you do as he says, watching intently as he licks your hand clean of his own spend. 

Your hips jerk harshly into his and he gasps. Your now clean hand rests on his hip, holding him as you pound into him. His body shakes with each thrust in, choked moans forced from his mouth. 

You groan lowly, your hips stuttering and you know you’re close. “Where do you want it?” You ask, pressing your lips against his cheek in a wet kiss.

“Inside. Fuck fuck please- Inside.”

You give a few more hard thrusts before you’re hunching over him again, burying yourself as deep as possible as you paint his insides white. Graves barely hears the ‘I love you’ you’ve murmured against his neck before he’s adding to the mess in your hands with a shout, legs finally giving out beneath him as he collapses against his desk. 

It takes a moment for you to catch your breath and even longer to come back from the muddled state your brain was in. He can feel your forehead pressed against his upper back, hear your heaved breaths. Graves didn’t seem to mind, waiting until you’d gone soft inside of him and a little longer until you finally shift behind him. 

You pull your hand from his, using it to hold his waist as you pull yourself out of him, hissing as pain shoots through you from the overstimulation. You reach for the box of tissues, trying your best to get Graves cleaned off before helping him stand upright. He leans into you, looking up at you with lidded eyes. “Think you owe me a shower.”

You weren’t going to say no to that.

—-----

“You don’t tend to be gentle like that,” Graves mentions offhandedly the next morning. You’re sitting in his office again, having brought him a coffee, your own drink sitting in front of you. 

You hum in acknowledgement, leaning back in the chair you’re seated in. “”Would you rather I be rough next time, sir?”

 It’s a genuine question he realizes. But it doesn’t stop Graves from nearly choking on his coffee, sputtering at the thought of a next time. “No no. I enjoyed it. A lot,” he assures, a faint red hue rising to his cheeks as he looks down at a report in front of him. Anything to avoid eye contact with you. “It’s just- you tend to be rougher out on the field. Surprised me is all.”

You offer him a genuine smile. “Force of habit, I suppose, sir. Never been one to get rough during sex.”

Your answer is as genuine as your smile and it brings a quiet laugh from Graves. The sound was like honey to your ears. You feel your heart jump in your chest and a flush rise to your cheeks. 

His chair rolled back from his desk and he got up and walked around to stand in front of you. A reversal of what had happened yesterday. You craned your neck to look up at, tilting your head as he told you to stand up. You did so a moment later. 

Hands found the collar of your shirt and you felt him fumble with it as he fixed it. He smoothed your shirt down before wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and pulling you close. You felt his nose brush along your cheek before his lips were on yours. 

Graves smiled against you as you returned the kiss, your hands finding purchase on his hips, your fingers looping in his belt loops, to hold him close. You traded chaste kisses, chasing each other's lips every time the other pulled away. You were breathless, laughing and smiling against each other with each kiss. 

Your foreheads pressed against his as you finally separated long enough to catch your breath. Graves had a pretty pink tint to his face, a smile worming its way across his face as he looked at you. He was so pretty.

His voice broke the silence his office had fallen into. “I love you too,” he whispers, your name following the confession. You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face as you pull him into another, longer kiss.

[jessource]

prompts:　ttpd, the anthology by taylor swift.

your location, you forgot to turn it off.

the only thing that's left is the manuscript, one last souvenir from my trip to your shores

could it be enough to just float in your orbit?

quick, quick, tell me something awful, like you are a poet trapped inside the body of a finance guy.

i just don't understand how you don't miss me.

now and then she rereads the manuscriptof the entire torrid affair.

if you wanna tear my world apart, just say you've always wondered.

if comfort is a construct, i don't believe in good luck.

i move through the world with a broken heart.

they killed cassandra first, 'cause she feared the worst.

don't want money, just someone who wants my company.

say it once again with feeling.

even statues crumble if they're made to wait.

we here-by conduct the post portem.

what doesn't kill you makes you awake.

they tried to warn you about me.

i'm not a doner, but i'd give you my heart if you wanted.

i got cursed like eve got bitten.

i hate it here so i will go to secret gardens in my mind.

i feel so high school every time i look at you.

I look in people's windows like i'm some deranged weirdo.

there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you.

she wrotе headlines in the local paper, laughing at each baby step i'd take.

one bad seed kills the garden.

when the truth comes out, it's quiet.

you see, i was a debutante in another life.

you have a favorite spot on the swing set.

the empathetic hunger descends.

i'm addicted to the 'if only'.

he said that if the sex was half as good as the conversation was, soon they'd be pushin' strollers. soon it was over.

oh, we must stop meeting like this.

way to go, tiger.

i built a legacy that you can't undo.

you said some things that i can't unabsorb, you turned me into an idea of sorts.

i may never open up the way i did for you.

he was a cad, wanted her bad just like any good trophy hunter.

tell me about the first time you saw me.

they knew, they knew, they knew the whole time.

i don't think you've changed much.

you have no room in your dreams for regrets.

they set my life in flames.

i thought it was just goodbye for now.

i loved you the way that you were.

you're a just ruler covered in mud, you look ridiculous.

i'm there most of the year, 'cause i hate it here.

you saw my bones out with somebody new who seemed like he would've bullied you in school.

how did it end? i can't pretend like i understand.

this place made me feel worthless.

i wanna find you in a crowd, just to hide from you.

quick, quick. tell me something awful.

i won't confess that i waited, but i let the lamp burn.

i can't forgive the way you made me feel.

Buried down deep

out of your reach the secret we all vowed to keep it from you in sweetness.

splendidly selfish, charmingly helpless.

old habits die screaming.

i'm lonely, but i'm good.

in my fantasies, i rise about it.

forgive me, [name], please know that i tried.

if i sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon?

behind her back, her best mates laughed.

you needed me, but you needed drugs more, and i can't watch it happen.

she's the albatross, she is here to destroy you.

i'll tell you one thing, honey. i can tell when somebody still wants me.

were you makin' fun of me?

nostalgia is a mind's trick.

i read about it in a book when I was a precocious child.

does it feel alright to now know me?

excellent fun 'til you get to know her.

life was always easier on you.

tell me all your secrets, all you'll ever be.

it wasn't a fair fight.

if i die screaming, i hope you hear it.

i can confirm she made a curious child, ever reviled by everyone except her own father.

are you gonna marry, kiss or kill me?

i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine.

all that time you were throwin' punches, i was buildin' somethin'.

one less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen.

i'm hearing voices like a madman.

you said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

but i can't forget the way you made me heal.

they nicknamed her 'the bolter'.

wise men once said 'wild winds are death to the candle'.

now i wanna sell my house and set fire to all my clothes.

i'm gonna get you back.

push the reset button, we're becomin' something new.

i'm watchin' american pie with you on a saturday night.

i'm an aston martin that you steered straight into the ditch.

[still-breathing-au-p3r]

[continued from here] [first post for October 18th] It may be Shinji who has more of a way with words between the two of them, but Akihiko has always been the one who fills their silences. Shinji’s the kind of guy who would rather listen than talk, unless he’s really got something to say. So naturally, that means it falls on Akihiko to break the silence they’re mired in now, as well. 

But he just can’t bring himself to do it. 

It isn’t that he doesn’t know what to say– he can think of plenty of things that he should say right now. The issue is whether or not he can. He tries a few times to speak up and feels bile rise in his throat instead of his voice. 

So he chokes it down and they’re left with…nothing. Nothing besides the scorched atmosphere Akihiko left in his wake.

Maybe it would be for the best if he leaves. Maybe getting away from here and taking some time to calm himself down is the better option, even though he’s loath to think about parting ways with Shinji on such an awful note. Even if it should only be temporary, how can he be certain it will be? How can he know for sure that their luck will hold, and Shinji will still be here when Akihiko gets his shit together?

He doesn’t know how he’d live with himself if the worst came to pass, and that was the last conversation he and Shinji ever had.

Akihiko’s inability to swallow his shame and talk past it turns out not to matter, ultimately. It’s Shinji who finally breaks the arid silence with a heavy sigh. 

“Look, I’m…really no good at this sorta thing,” he starts. “You already know that. An’ I’m also kinda high on painkillers right now, ‘cause– turns out getting shot doesn’t feel great. So maybe nothin’ I say’ll make any sense.”

Despite himself, Akihiko wheezes out a small laugh, and Shinji’s mouth twitches up on one side. He wants to believe that maybe this is a step in the right direction. It’s not like he’s wrong either; Shinji’s talents with words have never extended to talking about his feelings, even before his Persona went berserk. 

“But…you’re right,” Shinji continues. “I knew what the consequences could be, but I didn’t take ‘em seriously enough– not for Amada, or for you ‘n Kirijo– because I was too caught up in my own reasons.”

Shinji’s hands clench into fists around the bedsheets, his fingers trembling. “None of it– nothing mattered to me as much as the thought that maybe… Maybe I wouldn’t have to live with the fact that I’m a murderer anymore.”

“Shinji…” Each word out of Shinji’s mouth feels as heavy as a cinderblock, and Akihiko’s chest aches under the weight of them all. 

Shinji closes his eyes and sags back against his pillow, exhaling a weighted breath through his nose. He looks utterly exhausted. “That’s all I’ve cared about these last two years. The only thing I wanted was to atone, no matter how. And my life for the one I ruined seemed like a fair trade, y’know?”

When Shinji opens his eyes again, his gaze falls on the open window. The Moonlight Bridge winks back at him, the morning sun glazed mirror-bright over its arches, forcing him to wince and look away. “But I guess that’s pretty screwed up, right? I was just pushin’ my selfishness onto a kid and takin’ the coward’s way out, like you said.” 

Akihiko doesn’t quite trust himself to speak without a sob bubbling up instead, and in any case, the glare off the bridge is starting to get to him too, so he gets up to close the curtains. He grips the stiff, plasticky fabric tightly and bites his lip. 

“And that’s…” He almost doesn’t turn back around to face Shinji, but decides at the last moment that he needs to. “That’s really how you feel?” 

Shinji holds his gaze for just a moment before looking away. “Mhm.” 

It’s the first time Akihiko has heard Shinji like this– so somber and serious– in a very long time. But if he’s being truthful (Akihiko hopes to god that he is), it only serves as a horrible reminder of just how much Akihiko has failed. 

He must be making a face, because when Shinji looks at him again his mouth twists into a rueful smile. “Still mad, huh?”

“Of course I am.” Akihiko’s answer is immediate. “I just…am I really that unreliable?”

“...What?”

Akihiko almost returns to his seat but overshoots it and ends up pacing instead. “Shinji, you helped me so much when Miki died. You were there for me, you– you never left my side. You always made sure I was okay.”

Memories flood over him like a tsunami, churned together by time and grief until they all blend into an amorphous impression of those days, individual moments of shocking clarity floating within the tide like flotsam. 

Shinji had let Akihiko cling to him for days after the fire with minimal breaks, while Akihiko had cried until he’d been sick. Shinji had held him tightly all through the funeral as he’d choked on dry sobs, all of the tears wrung out of him, his eyes throbbing and swollen almost shut. Afterwards he’d bullied Akihiko into lying down and draped washcloths soaked in cool water across the top half of his face. 

Shinji, checking in with him between classes since they didn’t have the same homeroom that year. Shinji, walking the entire way home with him after school even after the adoption had been finalized and Akihiko had gone to live with his parents, their house in the exact opposite direction as the new building that served as the orphanage.

And that was just the aftermath of Miki’s death. Shinji’s been looking after him all his life and never expected anything in return. All those memories blend together until it’s impossible to keep track of them all. 

Akihiko had certainly appreciated it at the time, but he’d still taken it for granted. It’s only now that he realizes just how much it all meant to him. His breath shakes, his voice trembles. “I don’t– I don’t think I could’ve gotten through it at all if I hadn’t had you. So– the fact that you thought I couldn’t be there for you–”

“That’s not it.” Shinji cuts him off. “You’ve got it all wrong, Aki. I knew you would’ve been.” He glares into his lap. “That was the whole problem– I didn’t want you to be. I didn’t want your help, or Kirijo’s, or anyone’s. It all goes back to me bein’ a selfish asshole.”

Oh.

That makes an unfortunate amount of sense. 

“...Was it that you didn’t want it, or–” Akihiko swallows, the sound uncomfortably loud in his ears. “Did you think you didn’t deserve it?”

Shinji shrugs. “Same thing at the end of the day, ain’t it.”

“No.” Akihiko shakes his head. “It’s not the same at all. You did deserve it. You do deserve it, Shinji.”

He doesn’t answer right away. His expression is stony and contemplative as he mulls over Akihiko’s words. 

“...If I’m honest, ‘m still not sure I can believe that,” Shinji says quietly. He looks at Akihiko again, meeting his gaze and holding it this time. “But I am sorry, Aki. Sorry for bein’ that selfish asshole.”

Despite what he’d demanded earlier, he hadn’t really been expecting any kind of apology. He wasn’t sure if he’d even really wanted one, or if all he’d really been after was the catharsis of throwing a punch. But hearing it now, with Shinji sounding so genuine, so sincere– emotion starts to swell in Akihiko’s chest again. 

He pushes it down before it can strangle his voice. Shinji isn’t the only one who needs to apologize. It’s time he stops being so self-centered.

Akihiko makes his way back to his seat, pulling it even closer to Shinji’s bedside as he sits. His knees knock against the bed frame. 

“I’m sorry too,” Akihiko murmurs. He ignores the look Shinji gives him. “I kept saying I wanted you to rely on me, but– I didn’t take your feelings into consideration at all and I forced you back into a fight you didn’t want to be a part of. 

“And because of that…” He shakes his head, glowering down at his hands. He clenches and unclenches them into fists, watching the tendons in his wrists flex. “If I’d been paying more attention, if I’d just realized what was going on when Amada joined us–”

“Hey,” Shinji interrupts him using the same tone of voice he does when he’s about to tell off one of the juniors, or when he’d scold one of the younger kids at the orphanage. “Don’t you dare start blamin’ yourself for this, alright? None of this is your fault.”

It’s nice of him to say, but Akihiko knows it isn’t true. 

“Are you sure?” he asks. “You’ve told me a thousand times how tunnel-visioned I am. How I always run off on my own without thinking because I focus on one thing and forget about everything else.” Suddenly it feels like every lecture that Shinji’s ever given him and he’d brushed off is weighing down on his shoulders, heavy and shameful. 

“I told myself I needed to be stronger, but… In reality, I was just doing the exact same thing I accused you of. I was just running away too, from any problem that I couldn’t solve by knocking it down hard enough.”

What else has Shinji lectured him about that he just passed off as nothing when he should have listened? Why had it taken him until now to realize it? Why had it taken this? 

“You were right all along. And in the end, it didn’t even do any good. It didn’t matter how strong I was. Look what happened!” He gestures at Shinji, at the bed he’s propped up in– at everything in the room. It speaks for itself. 

“You almost died, Shinji! If one thing had been different– if just one thing hadn’t happened the way it did…you wouldn’t be here.” A sob clogs his throat. He drops his head into his hands, digging the heels of his palms against his eyes in a futile effort to keep the tears at bay. 

“All that strength, and yet I still couldn’t do anything for you. Not a single goddamn thing. I couldn’t even donate blood when you needed it, did you know that?”

“Aki…” Shinji doesn’t say anything more for several long moments, and the silence between them grows so heavy. Eventually, though, Shinji reaches out and puts a hand on Akihiko’s knee. 

“Listen,” he says. “We both fucked up. But there’s nothin’ we can do about it now. And…” He gives Akihiko’s knee a soft squeeze. “If it means anything, I don’t hold any of it against you.” 

Attempting to hide how emotional he’s gotten was hopeless from the start, but he’d been holding the line so far, if only by the skin of his teeth. Now Akihiko crumbles. He’s thankful that it’s just Shinji here instead of the whole team. He’d never live it down. At least Shinji’s seen him cry a million times before, so the blow to his pride doesn’t sting that bad. 

“I-it does. It means a lot to me, Shinji,” he replies, his voice quiet and hoarse, scrubbing the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.

[fantasy-things-and-such]

OC questionnaire

Thank you for the tags Here, here and Here by @the-golden-comet, @the-ellia-west and @willtheweaver. sorry for being late >~<

My questions:

1. What is one hobby you have that may surprise others? 2. What is one possession that you would not part with under any circumstances? 3. What is one supernatural ability you wish you had? 4. Who do you trust the most? 5. Where would you like to live, if you could choose? 6. What keeps you motivated 7. How much water do you drink on average? 8. Favorite phase of the moon and why? 9.Who's your favorite person and why?

Lets get started!

1. What is one hobby you have that may surprise others?

Lilli: "I weave. People aways find that surprising 'cause my hands are soft."

Tira: "uh... I play the guitar! I don't come off very musical, though."

Camellia: "Singing." *Lilli laughs* "What?! Cheverouse likes it too."

Erain: "Hobbies? man... Its not really a hobby, but I dooo bake."

2. What is one possession that you would not part with under any circumstances?

Lilli: "this pendant. It's the only thing i have from my mother."

Tira: "hmm... oh! Probably this

Camellia: "don't be ridiculous."

Erain: "one thing? Practically, the E.S.K- but if we're talking personal belongings, this little doodle that my baby sister drew before i left. I keep it right here, in my shirt pocket. For good luck."

3. What is one supernatural ability you wish you had?

Lilli: "healing."

Tira: "Flight! well, i guess its not really a wish anymore."

Camellia: "Foresight, i guess."

Erain: "healing. by far the most useful, in my eyes."

4. Who do you trust the most?

Lilli: "...Millie, my sister."

Tira: "the most? mmm... Lilliwiess is a contender, for sure. I think she's number one, actually."

Camellia: "is 'myself' an acceptable answer? no? fine... i guess anyone in my squad, then."

Erain: "Jayson. He's a good leader."

5. Where would you like to live, if you could choose?

Lilli: "with Tira, so probably Eastern tarn."

Tira: "With Lilli! ...she said with me, didn't she."

Camellia: "er... i dunno. home? I've never thought about it."

Erain: "Northern or eastern tarn. actually, Kjerag might not be too bad...hmmm."

6. What keeps you motivated?

Lilli: "my squadmates."

Tira: "My unborn sister. or brother, i don't know, actually. I'll get to see them once I graduate here... I cant wait."

Camellia: "spite." *Tira and Lilli both laugh.* "of these two fuckers. i swear."

Erain: "Family. gotta keep pushin' for them, y'know? its the least i can do after everything they've done for me."

How much water do you drink on average?

Lilli: "uh... alot. im not sure. I drink when I'm thirsty and after sparring, so..."

Tira: "oh, probably... 4 liters? rough estimate? that feels like alot, is that a lot? I'm probably totally wrong."

Camellia: "fuck if i know."

Erain: "based on the amount of excercise we do as knights, probably alot. i'd say alot, though, mabye somewhere in the ballpark of 3-ish liters."

Favorite phase of the moon and why?

Lilli: "mmm... Full. its majestic."

Tira: "...I dont like the moon, actually. it.. has some bad memories. so New moon, i guess?"

Camellia: "probably half moon. I was born under a half moon."

Erain: "Half moon, mostly for practical reasons... it gives light on a good night. Plus, it's damn pretty to admire."

Who's your favorite person and why?

Lilli: "Tira. why is this a question?"

Tira: "...Why is this a question...? my answer's obviously Lilliwiess, but..."

Camellia: "favorite person? fuck me... Cheverouse isnt too bad."

Erain: "uhhhh.... My baby sister. she's just... so cute."

Your questions:

What's your favorite letter? do you read? if so, what's your favorite book? Who's your favorite Least-favorite person?

Tagging(gently):

@wyked-ao3 @aesthetic-writer18 @emilynotfound @agirlandherquill +open tag

[shewasverynice]

Karlach/AMAB!Reader (FemDom/Light Bratting)

Fandom: Baldurs Gate 3

Rating: Explicit

Content: Consensual Sex, Female dominant, vaginal sex, fingering, bratting

"D'you enjoy pissin' me off or somethin'?" Karlach snapped. 

Her skin was flaring hot, fingers sizzling on your armor still after pushing you against the cold stone of the cave wall. You shrugged nonchalantly, a lazy half-smile on your lips.

"y/n?" She narrowed her eyes, snapping her fingers in front of your face, "C'mon now, love, focus on me."

"Mm?" You hummed, tilting your head. Karlach sure was lovely. Especially with her lips parted like that and her yellow eyes all sparkling and--

The smack across your cheek shook you right out of the Charm spell that still lingered. Now the only thing that lingered was the residual heat from her skin and the sting of the handprint that would surely welt. Her brows knit together, the air sucking through her teeth and the grimace was a sure sign of that.

"Sorry..." She murmured, "You alright?"

“Maybe."

“y/n!" She huffed, "Really? You're just tryin' to rile me up now, aren't you?”

"... Maybe."

"Is that how it's going to be?" Karlach said, leaning in close, "I watched you kiss that pretty little wizard and I nearly tore your head off. You're lucky I recognized it was a charm spell."

"I kissed her?" You asked, surprised that a charm spell was strong enough to make you do something like that. But then again, something in your head said you failed resisting it worse than you had in a long time. Like some kind of incredibly bad luck, in a way. Like if you rolled a dice and--

"Yeah," Karlach murmured, "D'you remember it? Was it good?"

Something about the way she asked that made your stomach twist. Heat rushed through you, flooding your entire body. It made the mouthy retort you had saved up stick in your throat. It didn’t come out. You stared ahead at the rest of the group as they discussed the recent combat, but you weren’t really watching; your eyes had sort of glazed over, focused instead on the husky challenge in Karlach's voice.

You didn’t answer. She wanted one. Her chest pressed to your armor, and she absolutely towered over you.

“Answer me, y/n," She insisted in a whisper, her breath hot on your ear, "You think you can get away with all this, yeah? Just because you were charmed? I've half a mind to take you right here and wipe the taste of her right out of your mouth.”

A heavy gloved hand came to your hip. She squeezed a little, the leather shifting beneath her powerful grip. You continued staring ahead, suddenly starting to regret riling up your girlfriend whilst you were still a ways from camp and in some shit cave. Definitely not one of the smartest things you had done. Karlach didn’t seem actually angry, and yet, there was a small sense of fear thrumming in your body like a weak electrical pulse, lightly tickling through your veins. She could do anything she wanted to you.

Anything. 

“You ever considered actually just answering my questions for once?” She challenged, gripping at your hip a little more tightly, widening her stance, planting her feet a little further apart, pushing you firmly  against the wall. “You ever think about, oh, I don’t know… keepin’ your mouth shut? Not pushin’ every single one of my buttons when I've just seen you kiss another woman?”

"Well, I didn't choose to--"

Karlach's lips burned on the shell of your ear as she whispered, "Need me to remind you who you belong to?”

The way she murmured it against your skin sent a lightning-hot flush straight down to your cock. A small sound escaped your lips, a kind of weak little groaning sound that was definitely uncharacteristic. The Charm had definitely worn off by now, but damn if Karlach wasn't just the most amazing thing you'd ever seen.

Karlach chuckled lowly, "Yeah, you wouldn't forget, but you liked that didn't you?”

She pressed herself against you, pressing her hips right up against yours. You were pretty damned sure the heat between her legs could have melted the Sea of Moving Ice. Shit, maybe even set the damn thing boiling.

“You like it when I'm taking over, don't you y/n,” she hummed as if she were in thought, keeping her face close to yours, her brushing against your cheek, "Maybe we ought to do this kind of thing more often.”

Damn, she was good. You did like it. A lot. Right on the fucking money.

“Karlach, everyone else is—”

“Everyone else can read the room, yeah? They saw us. They're already outside," she whispered.

The words didn’t want to come out – couldn’t come out. Your throat was tight, and her body was way too hot against yours, even with the multitude of layers between you with your armor, leathers, shirt, and gear.

“Sweetheart… you want it too yeah?” 

This abrupt change, this was what always set your head spinning about Karlach. She was so passionate, so wild and exciting, but she could make that quick change into the sweetest thing you'd ever tasted. Your already flustered heart skipped a beat, your expression softening to one of affection. For just a moment, hers did as well.

Your fingers reached up to intertwine with hers, “Yes. I absolutely do.”

“Good, I just wanted to be sure.” 

“You're so beautiful.”

You prayed that your voice wasn’t quivering when you let go of her hand. Karlach was still pressing insistently against you, grinding forward, pulling you closer ever so slightly; a movement so small you might not have been able to feel it were it not for your cock straining itself against your pants. Her fingers were already working on the clasps of your breastplate.

“I'm gonna wipe the taste of her right out of your mouth,” Karlach repeated, breathing on your neck, her hot tongue slipping out after her words and dragging up your throat, “That’s what you really want to hear, isn't it? You want me to be the jealous lover that's got something to prove.”

Why couldn't paladins be one of those classes where you didn't need to put on armor for like an hour? You were already dying to have her body pressed against yours. It was one of those times you deeply considered using a knife to cut the straps off your breastplate. But then you'd need to get it repaired and all that mess. Then again... It was only the straps right?

“If you do as you’re told, I’ll make sure you'll never need to look at another person again,” Karlach hummed, that hand on your breastplate strap moving forward, around the front of your body to flick at the buckles just above your hips, then sliding down further between your legs. “Keep still for me, baby. Don’t look away. Answer me when I ask a question and otherwise stay quiet. I'll take good care of you, right here right now. You just do as you're told, and you'll get everything you want, y/n.”

Well. Who'd say no to that?

Her gloved hand pressed between your thighs and stroked her fingers along your cock. She didn’t wear the heavy-duty gauntlets and thick leather like some of your other companions did. She wore tight cloth gloves, thin and delicate ones, where she had precise control over her fingers. Where she had precise control over where exactly to stroke your cock through your leathers and small clothes. This wasn't intentional of course, it was just that she didn't want to overheat, but it sure was an interesting situation to find yourself praising Dammon's work.

Your breath hitched in your throat. Fuck. Karlach teased you through your clothes, but you kept your eyes forward on her and attempted to follow her rules. She rubbed two of her fingers along your body, along your shaft, stirring the heat in your stomach. The mental struggle to keep your hips still was both torture and incredibly fun.

“You're doing so well, my darling.”

Karlach's fingers finally released the last buckle on your breastplate, carefully removing it from your front and letting it land gently on the ground beside your feet. As you sat up to let the back fall as well, she continued to stroke your cock, her lips on your neck and teeth grazing softly on your skin. 

“You're doing so good, baby," she purred.

You hummed approvingly and she chuckled. Her hand still danced up between your thighs, caressing your balls and gliding along your shaft. Expertly, as if she had done it a thousand times, she tugged the buckle of your belt undone.

“Ooh, look at you! You're so hard for me, aren't you y/n?”

Oh, fucking fuck. That went straight down your body and into your cock. Your eyes fluttered and Karlach must’ve caught the edge of your eyelashes moving as she spoke, and she smirked as she sat up to look into your eyes. You felt her fingers move as she grinned with satisfaction. She undid your belt and pushed it open, undoing your button, buckle, and ties on your trousers.

Karlach's fingers pushed beneath the waistband of your trousers and your small clothes, and her glove stroked along your cock in a slow steady motion. She made a small sound in your ear – you were already leaking and dripping over her hand. She had barely touched you and only whispered a few sweet little praises into your ear and she already had you making a mess of yourself.

“I’ve barely touched you, y/n,” she murmured to you and your eyes fluttered again. The thought of your companions momentarily entered your mind as your focus became blurry. Kinda made it hotter, if you were being honest. “You’re enjoyin’ this, aren’t you, hmm? This whole day, even before the charm hit you, you were playing around and teasing me when really… you just needed a reason to behave.”

“Karlach—”

“Quiet.”

Your mouth fell shut as her hand stroked your cock and she dragged her other hand up along your thigh.  The pad of her finger swirled along the head and rubbed up and down steadily. Your knees weakened slightly, and you sagged against the wall, your fingers digging into the stone to steady yourself. Karlach chuckled. She let you fall forward and just pressed herself closer, lifting her thigh and grinding it up between your legs. She guided one of your hands beneath the waist of her own leathers, letting your fingers explore so that you were damn well aware of exactly what kind of effect you were having on her.

Your fingers pressed into her clit and a small sound of appreciation came from her throat. She smiled at you as your fingers glided along her labia, dipping between to smear the slick and swirl around her entrance. You swallowed thickly as her teeth nipped at your neck.

“Everything okay, y/n?” She asked playfully, as if she didn't already know the answer. You wanted to answer, give her a little sass maybe, but with her hand on your cock like that and your fingers nearly in her cunt it didn't seem like the best time.

“Y-Yeah… of course I’m alright.”

“Got me worried there," She teased, flicking at the bite mark she'd left with her tongue. 

Her free hand slipped beneath to massage your balls and your breath caught. Before you could make a sound her lips were on yours and her tongue was stuffed inside against yours. Tasting and testing what she could get away with, she pulled back and smirked at you.

“Careful now! Wouldn't want to get caught now, hmm?” she whispered.

Slowly, that single finger on your cock head moved in slow circles. She stirred the heat in your stomach slowly, like a cauldron bubbling and boiling. She rocked her hips forward, suffocating you with her entire being; her hot breath against your ear, her pussy against your fingers, your finger on her clit… you were drowning in her. It was difficult to breathe in the cool and damp cave air.

There was a particularly loud laugh from someone in the group outside of the cave and you heard Gale trying to shush Astarion. Were they joking about the two of you? Maybe they were jealous? That would certainly make this whole thing more fun.

“They're right outside,” Karlach whispered with a giggle, "I bet you think they're jealous too, hmm?"

“Y-yeah, I was thinkin' that," you murmured through a gasp for air.

“Just wait until they hear the noises I rip out of you.”

The thought made your cock twitch and Karlach cooed appreciatively. It felt good, almost as good as Karlach teasing you. The sigh that left you was tell-tale and self-explanatory. Karlach chuckled again.

“Too much teasing, baby?”

"I'll tell you when it's too much," you hissed back with a smirk, your head tipping back against the stone wall, "C'mon, let's get this going.

Karlach clicked her tongue disapprovingly, “And here I thought you were goin’ to actually behave.”

Her hand that had snuck up your shirt withdrew from your chest and she yanked down on the front of your leathers, ripping your trousers and underwear down in one quick move to show off your whole front. You couldn’t stop her, and her heavy hand clapped loudly against the bare skin of your upper thigh. A gasp came from your mouth, her fingers and palm both massaging and sinking into the flesh of your ass.

“You just can’t help yourself. Mouthy little bitch.”

The venom she spat on that last word made you shiver.

“You want me to fix your shitty attitude, don’t you? Want someone to put you in your fuckin’ place.”

The hand on your ass slid to the small of your back and she pushed you forward. It was the perfect angle  for her to back up onto your cock– if she'd ever give it to you that is. Karlach kept you there with her powerful arms and you stayed there, her hand returning to your ass.

“You want to behave don't you, but you don’t want to act right at all,” Karlach muttered, more to herself than to you… but she was right. It was far more fun to be mouthy and to disobey than to swallow your pride and actually do as you were told. Especially when it was her.

Her hand spread over your ass and the hand on your cock moved down to tease your balls again. She stroked over them, gently cupping and moving them between her fingers. She leaned down, breathing a huff of hot breath onto your tip.

"Mmnn!"

“I bet I could make you cum in about twenty seconds, right darling?" She purred before pointing her tongue and flicking around the crown of your dick.

Your eyes were trained on hers, the light in them practically lighting your heart on fire. Was she wrong? Probably not. Your cheeks were flushed, your breath coming in ragged gasps. She'd been teasing you so long at this point. She was smirking to herself too, her tongue swirling on your cock head.

Her lips parted, sliding over your tip just enough. Oh shit. A moan left your mouth, something soft and quiet but it felt so loud in your ears. Your expression softening, the weakness showing in your face, and Karlach didn't miss it at all. She watched you slowly crumble, softly rubbing her lips all over your head. Your hips bucked reflexively as she flicked her tongue along the sensitive slit, her free hand unbuckling her belt.

Your head was swimming as you watched her undo her belt and shimmy her pants down around her thighs. Her tongue slid across her teeth, a wicked smirk on her face as your eyes soaked her in. She knew you wouldn't look away any time soon.

“Look at your fuckin’ face.”

You lifted your eyes from her pussy to her face and her eyes were watching you the entire time. She stepped back up to you, one hand on either one of your thighs, and her growl rumbled in her chest. God, the smile on her face was killer.

"You want this, right?" She asked again, damn well knowing what your answer would be.

"Absolutely." You huffed.

She canted her hips forward, taking your cock between her thighs, making sure you felt her slide against every inch of your cock. Goosebumps raced over your body, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were cold or hot.

“Say what you want, y/n," she commanded, biting her lip as her eyes fluttered shut. The sensation was clearly getting to her just as much as you.

You turned your face away, trying not to grin. She'd give up first.

“Y-Yes, please," you said, more a whimper than you meant.

“… are you alright, sweetheart?” she asked with a smirk.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine," you lied.

“Well, well, darlin’. I must say I’m surprised you’re holdin’ it together so well," She praised, making sure to press your cockhead just enough against her entrance to get some of that intoxicating pressure.

In truth, you were barely clinging on. You gripped onto the wall behind you with your hand, fingers digging into the hard stone. All of your focus was on Karlach's pussy pressing up against your cock, teasing back and forth, her hand moving to slide right between your thighs to cup your balls, coating the top of your length with how slick she was.

“Tell me what you want, and I’ll let you fill my pretty little cunt," she whispered.

You choked a groan back. You hung your head. You couldn’t. You couldn’t. Well, you could, but what fun would that be? How long could she keep this up, right?  Eventually she'd give in. Definitely before you would, right? You weren't even sure you were convincing yourself.

“Come on," she chuckled.

You whimpered and your nails crumbled some of the stone again. You hissed through your teeth, resolve crumbling. Karlach leaned closer, pressing her body down against yours. Her skin was so hot, the fire burning in her heart nearly lighting up the cave more than the single lantern nearby. It was like she was surrounding you with her heat as the crown of your cock lined up with her pussy. So damn close. You probably could have just lifted onto your toes and done it yourself, but then again... 

“Say you want me," she demanded, a playful lilt in her voice.

Fuck it. You broke, and gasped out, "Karlach, please. I want you.”

She positively growled against your neck and the rumble vibrated through you too. She stood back up to her full height and lifted one thigh to brace her knee in the wall beside you, one hand guiding your cock into her, the other finding purchase on the wall beside your head. Gently, she pushed you inside her. She was met with resistance only for a moment, but when the head of your dick popped into her, you groaned with relief. Feeling her finally clench around you felt so divine, it was exactly what you needed. 

Exactly what she needed too. You couldn't miss that gasping breath. Her eyes were half-lidded, lips parted and cheeks flushed darker.

This was it. It was too late to go back now.

“Gods be damned, y/n," she breathed.

For a second, Karlach just held herself still, relishing in the warmth of your cock in her pussy. It became uncomfortable for you. You ached for more, needed her to move on you more. There was an itch burning in the pit of your stomach that only she could sate.

Moving one hand to your shoulder, Karlach steadied herself and then pushed down deeper and deeper. Slowly, you filled her, and fuck, she purposely clenched down. As if it wasn't already enough. She was holding back her moan, soft broken gasps landing on your face as she tried to look into your eyes. You glanced down, looked at your connection, and closed your eyes.

“Eyes on me, darlin’," she huffed.

Regrettably, you raised your head, blinking through the dizzying haze to keep your eyes on the darked haired woman currently toying with you. But really, it was almost as much torture for her than you. Delayed gratification or something, right? Something like that.

Once she had you sunken halfway into her, Karlach stayed still again. Her pussy clung onto you, stretched just enough. Well maybe more than usual, it had been a few days. You weren't even all the way in yet, but you could tell she'd already noticed the difference. The wall behind you on your back hurt a little as she pressed against you… but of course it did. Didn't matter though. Sex with her wasn't right if it didn’t hurt at least a little bit whether that was from her roughness or the heat coming off of her. You were only surprised that it wasn’t rougher already. She was usually so much more eager.

“Feelin' good yet, baby?” she asked softly, "Need me to move, don't you?"

“Y-Yes," you stammered, your hands finally giving up on keeping to yourself. They glided up her ribs and she let her head tip back just a little, her teeth clenching onto her lip with a hiss.

She growled again. And then she began to move. Karlach dragged her pussy back, all the way to the tip and then sank back onto you. You immediately arched beneath her and her chest rumbled with deep satisfaction. You did as you were told. You stared at her through the haze as your fingers slipped beneath her top. Your palms swirled gently on her nipples, your fingers splayed out over her breasts and earned yourself a moan of approval. 

Leaning forward, you nudged her face up with your nose to kiss her deeply. You were sure she'd deny you, but instead she gratefully accepted it, her tongue meeting yours like it was going to wrestle yours into submission.

You both gasped and moaned as she pulled back, fucking herself on your cock steadily but roughly. She wasn’t gentle, just consistent with her speed. Her fingers gripped at your shoulders and she pulled you forward to meet her thrusts down, pushing in deeper with each thrust of your cock.

“Karlach, is everything alright?” Shadowheart's voice broke through the gasps from the cave entrance.

“Oh, absolutely," Her voice was steady as if she wasn’t currently holding her lover buried balls deep inside her. How on earth was she this good?

“Are you going to join us soon?” Shadowheart called, although you could certainly hear the others insisting she not keep talking to Karlach.

Karlach hummed, “Not yet.”

“Well, alright,” Shadowheart called with more than a hint of frustration.

Karlach didn’t reply and instead just laughed, slowing her thrusts to give you a chance to breathe. Your hand was gripping at the wall again, trying to push yourself up into a better position. It almost crumbled beneath you with the way that Karlach was dragging you back and forth and jolting your body up against it..

“She has no idea,” she said, with a breathless chuckle, “She has no fuckin’ idea… what we're doing in here. Innocent little thing.”

She slammed forward to take you to the hilt and a near-scream tore from you. You clamped a hand over your own mouth to silence yourself. You were determined not to disobey at least that much, just because you did feel a little bad about apparently kissing that wizard. You didn't remember it, but it still felt bad that it hurt Karlach's feelings.

Karlach began a faster pace, slamming into you, the buckle of her belt bruising through your trousers into your thighs from where she pounded into you again and again and again. The head of your cock met her cervix over and over and you knew she was feeling that dull ache she loved so much. 

She hadn't fucked you like this before. Rough and fast wasn't unusual, but it was as if you were just a thing to be toyed with. That was exactly what she was doing to you. She was toying with you.

“God I love your cock,” she moaned, the praise going straight to your brain. Your eyes fluttered again and you struggled to keep them on the woman grinding on your body. “Never done it in a cave before, yeah? And look at you… you were made to be fucked, weren't you?”

You whimpered.

Heat built in your stomach, that familiar feeling of an orgasm building. But it had never come this fast before. Usually it took far longer to get you to this point – you were usually dripping in sweat, hair in your face, lips against hers. But this was far more raw. She didn’t kiss you, didn’t hold your body lovingly, or worship you. No. She was just fucking you this time.

“So good… so good for me," she breathed against your neck.

Karlach was losing herself in her own selfish pleasure, gripping onto your body so tightly that if she squeezed anymore, she might have crushed your shoulders. She tipped her head back and let out a throaty groan, letting the heat and satisfaction of taking control wash over her. Her eyes flickered between your face, her pussy taking your cock, and her tits bouncing against your chest.

“Make yourself cum. Cum on my cock," You couldn't help but groan out the words, your fingers lacing together and pushing back your hair to the top of your head and holding there.

One of your arms slid from the wall, pressing between your bodies, and circled her clit. It didn’t matter anymore. There was no going back now, and she wasn't pressing the rules anymore. And so, why not just enjoy it?

Your hips drove your cock into her, rough and fast, slamming against her cervix. She yelped, a smile spreading on her face.

“Fuck yes, y/n!” 

“Mmhmm, damn Karlach...”

Your fingers quickened even faster around her clit. There was something so fucking hot about Karlach forgetting about everything else, even everyone else, all so that she could fuck you. Your knees buckled and you sagged, almost falling to the ground but Karlach’s grip on you was relentless – she wasn’t going to let you fall. Her pace doubled and you felt your balls start to squeeze threateningly.

“That’s it, that’s it, oh god baby… You like it when I clench down on your cock? Ohh, fuck, you’re getting so loud… hah, they might hear you,” she chuckled. You couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer and your head dropped to lean against her shoulder, chasing your orgasm desperately, almost there, just almost, almost—

Stars danced behind your closed eyelids as she came around your cock. Her pussy squeezed tight, and you slammed all the way into her. Her howl was animal-like, feral, absolutely visceral as she milked you for all that you were worth. In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to feel your hot cum filling her up, pumping into her. You could deal with the guilt later.

“Oh my god, good girl, you… you’re squeezin’ my fuckin’ cock… fuckin’ fuck, come here," You gasped out.

You gripped onto her and even as she was still cumming, you fucked her. You didn’t care about her cries anymore, didn’t care about her pleading with you to ‘stop’ because it was ‘too sensitive’. You fucked her through her orgasm, pushing you both beyond pleasure and into sheer ecstasy. Her knees buckled beneath completely and you caught her in your arms to keep it up.

“y/n—” 

“Almost—” 

You groaned openly, close to your own orgasm. When she sobbed one last time, trying to pull away from you, you yanked her back, shoved the crown of your cock right up against her cervix and spilled yourself into her. You felt her pussy throb around you, jumping as rope after hot rope painted her insides white, your seed spilling as deep as possible inside of her. You didn’t let go, making sure she was completely flush to you the entire time as you came inside of her.

You felt like you were melting. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you for anyone else,” you groaned, panting for breath. “Make your body remember my cock.”

Your cum was all the way inside, the last few judders and thrusts of your hips making sure that none of it was going to leak out of her.

The sound of blazing fire struck both of your ears.

It was roaringly loud, and it startled you. It almost deafened you, eardrums ringing, head bolting up to chase the source of the sound.

You heard Gale shout something, followed by Wyll calling for everyone to grab their weapons. Something drastic had clearly happened outside and Karlach was on the same page as you, already hopping down off you to shimmy her pants up. She steadied her trembling legs as you both quickly began to buckle your armor back on and slip on your gauntlets.

"Shit," she mumbled, her fingers fumbling over one by your side, "Stupid armor..."

Belts back on, ties fastened, gloves back on, a frenzy of dressing before you rushed out towards the daylight again with your weapons in hand. But just before you burst out though the opening, Karlach gripped your shoulder. She turned you to face her and kissed you deeply, a smirk on her lips as she parted from you and leapt into the battle with her war cry. You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your sweat-damp hair out off your forehead.

"Shit... Are there any casters this time?" You asked with a grin, looking over at Gale who only rolled his eyes.

Interested in your own custom fic? Check it out here!

[meetcuteturtles-official]

When will you estimate this to be running? (No pressure I’m just invested sorry 🫶🏼) and are you staying to the original ROTTMNT plot or is this an AU?

Much love 🫶🏼

I am hoping, I really don't wanna end up being completely wrong here, Hoping to get the Leo routes out in a year tops. Six months if we're really pushin' my luck. Again, I don't want to give myself strict due dates because I tend to shut down once I do, so you'll have to be patient.

For the second question, sticking to the canon! Including that tidbit that was shared on twitter that after the events of the movie, the turtles and mutants/yokai would be public knowledge. Turtles doing every day things! I was thinking I may add some personal headcanon extra markings to display them being older, and ofc as seen with Leo they'll be in their own outfits, but aside from that; canon.

Tysm for the ask <33 !!!

[aspecpplarebeautiful]

I hope you don't mind me coming to babble in your inbox, I'm not sure who else to talk to who might understand?

I've known I'm a-spec [specifically ace-spec, more specifically gray-ace] for years now, and I'm comfortable and settled with that part of my identity.

But now I'm starting to question if I may be aro-spec as well, which is really strange for me because I'm so like... based in love. I'm very loving. Like I know loving aros are a thing, and just as valid as loveless aros, but I've never considered I may be aro-spec because I'm truly a [hopeless] romantic, it's a deep part of who I am as a person.

I know I mix up platonic and romantic attraction *a lot,* it's very difficult for me to differentiate between the two, and that isn't helped by the fact that I'm a very sensual and touch-affectionate (is that a term? is now) person to begin with. It's cost me a few relationships in the past, where I start out thinking I'm romantically attracted to someone, so we start a relationship, only for me to gradually realize that I don't really feel that kind of attraction to them at all. Because of this, I heavily favor the idea of a queerplatonic relationship(s).

Only now I'm struggling even more because I've realized I love someone - which usually isn't a problem, I love just about everyone, but this is *different.* I've specified that though I love them and it's more than just a platonic love, I'm not "in love" with them. Yet when I explain [to the best of my ability] exactly how I feel for them to others [my therapist], I'm told that it sounds a lot like I'm simply in denial of being "in love." Which, valid, I guess, but that just doesn't... sound or *feel* right to me. I don't think I'm in love, in the sense that it's usually meant, but I honestly wouldn't know, because I don't know what that feels like, or is supposed to feel like, or even if that's something that I experience. It's all been quite confusing and a bit distressing, honestly.

I'm not sure what I'm hoping for by telling you all this. I think I just needed to get it out. If you've read all of this, thanks for listening, please don't feel obligated to respond or anything. I hope you're having a good day [or night? afternoon? morning? idk]. I hope that whatever good news, or stroke of luck you may be waiting on arrives soon. <3

I hope you don't mind me giving a response, because I do have a couple thoughts I think you might find helpful. A lot of people have trouble differentiating between romantic and platonic attractions, and there's a few labels for it you can explore if you're interested:

Idemromantic: Someone who categorizes relationships as romantic or platonic but experiences no internal differences.

Platoniromantic: When someone experiences no difference between romantic and platonic attraction.

There's also alterous attraction, which is a type of attraction like romantic, sexual, sensual, etc. If you look at romantic and platonic as a binary, alterous is a non-binary option and it's a whole spectrum. So if what you're currently feeling doesn't feel right to call either platonic or romantic, this might be worth looking into to see if it feels right.

Another option to look into might be quoiromantic, which is going in another direction and it's not understanding or disidentifying with romance/romantic attraction/romantic orientation, or finding it inapplicable, inaccessible, nonsensical, etc. (This is a great page on the quoiromantic label).

That probably seems like a lot, don't be afraid to take your time looking through it and exploring. And hopefully it gives you some direction to look into and helps you figure things out.

Sometimes people do fall in love but are in denial about it, but I'm always surprised how quickly people are to jump to that conclusion, and usually based off very little. At the end of the day you're the only one who truly knows what you're experiencing, and you're the final authority on interpreting those feelings. If your gut is pushing you in a certain direction that's worth listening to.

I'm sorry you've been dealing with some distress, but hopefully this is helpful.

And thank you for the kind words! All the best, Anon, good luck!