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The whole bank smelled strongly of smoke, the sharp metallic tang of blood and that butane like smell of the absolute piece of shit drill. You could hardly hear your own thoughts of the grinding of the drill, the shouting and gunfire of the police, and your own heartbeat thumping in your ears.
You’d grown used to seeing the others bloody, you’d been on a heist with almost everyone by now, though you’d expressed to Bain a preference in working with Dallas. He always looked kind of… wild in a heist; bloody, shouting orders, taking a crowbar to a cloaker’s skull, that kind of thing. It was a good kind of wild though, he was fully focused on doing as much damage while still being efficient.
He nearly shoved you to the ground in an effort to get to the drill and also pull you out of the way of a bullet that definitely would’ve fucked up your arm had it hit you. He gives you a quick check to make sure you’re not seriously wounded, giving a quick nod before restarting the drill. He shouted out, nearly yelling right in your ear, “Bodhi! Focus on the snipers! Nearly got the door open!” which earned a “Gotcha!” from Bodhi.
Even with his mask covering most of his face, it doesn’t hide his eyes, which are wild with adrenaline and bloodlust that basically everyone felt from a heist. The blood on his usually pristine suit was a fitting reminder of why they lived under a damn laundromat, it was pretty handy even as a coverup.
Once the drill finally finished, Dallas pulled the door open, and immediately started shoving all the cash and other miscellaneous shiny nonsense into duffel bags, any heisters not actively fending off shields and dozers made quick work in helping. And then began the relay process; grab a bag, run it to the van without losing your life warranty on existence, then get back for the next one. You were good at this, the others watched your back to make sure you weren’t hurt badly. After all, not being hurt at all was a bit much to ask in this line of work.
Tossing the last of the bags into the van, you all piled in, with Jimmy whining about Bodhi stepping on his toes and crowding him and the two otherwise acting like siblings during a roadtrip. Twitch ignored all of their bitching and got you guys out of there, ignoring basically every road safety law until you were all a good distance away and could blend with traffic more.
Even with Twitch’s rather haphazard driving, you couldn’t help looking out the back windows of the van, seeing the snow, and the lights strung up on the trees. Even with a bloody job like this that always left everyone sore, exhausted, hungry and in need of at least a few stitches, there was always time for the holidays. Dallas took notice of your gaze at the festive atmosphere outside, since you had no reason to be subtle.
“You think we should decorate the safehouse?” He asks you. There were lights stored in the garage, somewhere in Wolf’s drill equipment. You weren’t sure how the hell he knew where anything was in that mess, but it worked for him, and you weren’t in charge of the drills, so more power to him. “I wouldn’t mind, although we have to make sure we don’t put any fake snow around.” You replied, giving a pointed nod at Jimmy, which made Dallas snicker.
“Yeah, definitely no fake snow. But lights? Tinsel? A tree? I bet we could do with a tree.” He says with a thoughtful nod. He was rather fond of the holiday himself, and considered the idea clearly made you happy, he was all the more determined in making it at least a visually festive Christmas. You nodded. “Let’s at least get that legally, we can actually buy a fake tree, it’s not like we’re hurting for cash.” You said, raising a teasing brow at him.
“Alright, legal Christmas. I think we can manage that.” He says with a smirk. You went back to looking out the window, imaging what the safehouse might look like with a bit more holiday cheer. It was home, to be fair, so why not treat it like such? You were surprised the gang didn’t already have a tree or something, it wasn’t like anyone hated the holiday.
Upon returning to the safehouse, the first priority for everyone was first aid, and food. Everyone was hurting at least a bit, mild wounds or some more serious ones. You were fairly unhurt minus some compounding graze wounds, no full bullet wounds. Much to your relief as well, Dallas was much in the same boat. The two of you grabbed food from the kitchen in the main room of the safehouse, the two of you chatting idly over your respective dinners, enjoying each others company.
The days ticked by much the same, alternating heist crews going out while previous crews healed. You and Dallas used these “off days” to decorate. With Wolf’s help, you managed to track down the string lights, which was probably the easiest thing. Finding tinsel wasn’t really hard either, just took extra steps. Usually you and Dallas weren’t super affectionate, but Dallas had insisted on holding your hand in the store, which had actually been quite nice, since he wasn’t usually touchy. Getting a tree was a slight pain just due to the fact that everyone was decorating that time of your, so finding a decent one was harder than it had to be, as was getting the god damn box into the living room with all the other assorted stuff that you both kept tripping on.
Then it was finally time to decorate. Dallas was in a good mood; you were happy, and so was he. He could see the holiday spirit was making everyone feel a little more human, including you. Duke had even insisted on making eggnog. Not buying it, making it. A proper gentleman isn’t going to let people drink anything other than the best during the holidays. You had to admit, the store-bought stuff didn’t even hold a candle, which made Duke puff up with pride when you complimented his hard work.
Up onto the tree went the lights, which had Dallas swearing and throwing the decorative pillows Joy had found to bring some more Christmas atmosphere into the space, trying to figure out how to get the lights all connected to one another correctly. Then the shiny red baubles, which went on without trouble thankfully. Then went the tinsel. It was all fine until Dallas held the tinsel up like a mustache when you weren’t expecting it, leading to you spitting eggnog all over him. The cheeky bastard even gave you a bit of a boost in finishing the tree with the star on top.
Then Christmas rolled around. You were woken groggily by Dallas shaking you awake. He gently coaxed you out of bed despite your complaints, leading you gently despite covering your eyes. You knew it was far too early for anyone else to be awake, which had you both suspicious and kind of excited. He gently sat you on the couch, insisting you keep your eyes closed until he told you to open them. You obliged with a sleepy laugh.
“The hell are you up to, Dallas? You’re never this secretive.” You ask, unable to help a smile. He’d been weirdly secretive despite all the decorating. “Oh hush, just hold out your hands, love.” He teases. You oblige, feeling him place something familiarly heavy but wrapped in your hands. “Alright, open your eyes.”
Opening your eyes, you can immediately see his hopeful, but still smug face. He’s knelt on the floor, just so he’s not looming over you while you sit. The Christmas tree is lit, and the lights hung around the room too, which just feels kind of magical when it’s just the two of you. The heavy wrapped something in your hand is clearly a pistol, but with the wrapping on it, you obviously have no clue what it looks like. Curious, you work to unwrap it, while also being just as smug in return to his cheekiness and taking your time to unstick each piece of tape, until he gives you a look that makes you snort and finally actually tear the paper. The pistol is honestly a gorgeous piece; wood on the handle, the whole gun smooth but not flashy. You notice a stamp into the wood on both sides, subtle but noticeable if you look. Your initials on one side, his on the other. You look up at him only to be interrupted in your thanks with a kiss.
“Merry Christmas, love.” He says upon pulling away, sitting beside you with an arm around your shoulders. You lay your head on his shoulder with a quiet laugh. “Merry Christmas to you too, Dallas.” You say, as the two of you enjoy the quiet early morning on a perfect payday Christmas.
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got it? because its GOOOOOGLE-translated. Poorly betad.
have fu-cking-fun
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Here you are crawling through the pipes, tearing hair, raking branches and grease, throwing out piles of old leaflets. How does all this get here?
As you move on, you notice something white sticking out of another pile of garbage. Oh, an ad! You put it in your pocket.
Periodically ringing the pipes with the device, you have already finished raking the garbage and scaring away the Rodland and the Auger.
Rustling through the pipes further, you meet the Crail, it begins to chatter discontentedly at you, looking at your surprised face with its white dots-pupils. You are distracted by the ad, how interesting it is to read about sentences that you cannot understand! After all, you were told that in order for this bird-dog thing to go away, you just need to not look at it.
The chattering stops, but you do not hear the blows on the walls of the pipe, as usually happens. Maybe this monster moves quietly? You lift your head and bump right into the monster's long snout. It starts growling again; lower this time, as if the sound was coming from somewhere deeper than its throat, from its stomach, maybe? If this thing has one, of course. You don't see it, because its eyes are looking straight into yours, not letting go and not allowing you to look away for even a second. Even blinking was a big effort.
But the Crail doesn't leave, on the contrary, it seems to get as comfortable as possible and...
He bites your head.
He doesn't clench his jaws, he holds you with his teeth while you look into his empty throat. It's scary, of course, you're in a closed space anyway and then there's this thing, you open your mouth to scream, but nothing comes out. You feel your breathing quicken, your vision darkens. But he still hasn't killed you. What is he waiting for? That you'd rather die of horror?
Under the dim light of your lamp, you look into his mouth, quickly moving your gaze over sharp teeth and his tongue, into his open throat. A long, sticky and extremely unpleasant journey. And you can't move.
A few long seconds passed, which seemed to you not minutes, but hours, when the monster's tongue moved. First at the base, covering the throat, as if he swallow his saliva. Then the free end, the part closest to your head, rose up, running along your face and leaving behind a wet and cool, slightly tickling trail of saliva. The sensation of the suddenly soft tongue sent a wave of goosebumps through your entire body, you involuntarily moan from all this. The Crail growled again, but this time it sounded more like laughter than the threatening chattering earlier.
- Let me go.. - finally finding your voice, you say, trying to lift the monster's upper jaw with your hands, but it doesn't give in, on the contrary, he clenched them a little tighter, forcing his teeth to bite into your scalp harder and you took your hands away from him.
Tears flowed down your cheeks from helplessness, you closed your mouth and pursed your lips. The monster, although he didn't see what you were doing, licked your face again, stopping at your lips. He pressed on them with the tip of his tongue, trying to penetrate. It didn't work. The Crail growled, sharply and loudly, forcing you to scream and thereby open your mouth. The monster didn't waste a second, immediately penetrating with a wet muscle right into the opened cavity and touching your teeth and your own tongue.
He seems to know what to do, because he stops when he touches the back of your mouth. The monster's cool, large tongue, coated in thick, slippery saliva, moves further, towards your throat.
It's a shame you have problems with reflexes, because in that case the monster would have met no obstacle, descending further down your throat and esophagus. But before he could let you choke, he abruptly pulls his tongue out.
You cough, try to pull away and try to breathe. All at once.
The Crail decided that he had enough and squeezed his tongue into your mouth again, this time more gently, did not go too deep and decided to be content with what he had.
The thought flashed through your mind that it would be nice to bite him, but unfortunately; as quickly as it came, the thought disappeared. It seems you wanted more from this monster? You're not sure about that, you don't even understand why that thought came to your mind.
Yeah, the big monster's big tongue having your throat definitely doesn't help. Maybe something in his saliva? Which runs like a sponge from his tongue into your mouth and flows out of it down your chin and neck, dripping onto the dirty floor and soaking into the fabric of your suit.
It's not just your neck that's getting wet, but between your legs as well, you're fidgeting and grinding your thighs together.
Damn underground monsters, were they molded from and for what purpose!?
Slowly your eyes closed and a moan came from your throat again, more relaxed than the last time. You enjoy the sensations in your mouth, the fact that this monster is using your mouth like that. Moreover, he sped up his movements, already making you choke from penetration into your throat and from the fact that every breath you took was used to moan, your head was starting to spin. You didn’t have the opportunity to lower even one hand to touch yourself, from any movement of yours, The Crail started to growl, there was not even a chance to explain something to him.
Growl, saliva, hot breath in your face and just the fact that such a creature really made your head spin. His saliva penetrated your throat, involuntary contractions of your throat when swallowing touched the monster’s tongue that was in your throat, he growled contentedly from this.
Soon your loud moan was heard through all the pipes, reflecting and hitting others, the stain on your pants became bigger, and the monster laughed again and finally pulled out his tongue, licked your face and let go of your head. Without support, she, along with your body, fell to the floor of the pipe and the only sounds coming from you were loud breaths and coughs. Your body was shaking slightly.
It seemed like the strongest orgasm in a long time and from what? Because of this monster who was just using you? Maybe.
Преды: хз лол. Возможная смерть? Немного прон. Ты-бесполая чмоня.
Можно перевести для себя/You can translate it for yourself.
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Вот ты ползешь по трубам, рвешь волосы, разгребаешь ветки и жир, раскидываешь залежи старых листовок. Как это все сюда вообще попадает?
Пробираясь дальше ты замечаешь что-то белое, торчащее из очередной горы мусора. О, рекламка! Ты убираешь ее в карман.
Периодиччески прозванивая трубы с помощью устройства ты уже закончил разгребать мусор и отпугивать от себя Родлэнда и Огера.
Шурша по трубам дальше ты встречаешься с Крилем, оно начинает недовольно стрекотать на тебя, смотря на твое удивленное лицо своими белыми точками-зрачками. Ты отвлекаешься на рекламу, как интересно читать про предложения, которые ты не можешь разобрать! Ведь тебе сказали, что чтобы эта птице-псина свалило нужно просто не смотреть на него.
Стрекот прекращается, но ты не слышишь ударов о стенки трубы, как бывает обычно. Может, это чудище передвигается тихо? Ты поднимаешь голову и утыкаешься прямо в длинную морду монстра. Он снова начинает рычать, низко на этот раз, словно звук исходил откуда-то глубже, чем из горла, из живота, может быть? Если он у этой твари, конечно, есть. Ты не видишь этого, ведь его глаза смотрят прямо в твои, не отпуская и не позволяя отвести их хоть на секунду. Даже моргнуть составило большой труд.
Но Криль не уходит, наоборот он, кажется, устраивается поудобнее, насколько это возможно и...
Кусает тебя за голову.
Он не сжимает челюсти, держит зубами, пока ты смотришь в его пустую глотку. Страшно, конечно, ты итак в закрытом пространстве а тут ещё и эта хрень ты открываешь рот, чтобы закричать, но ничего не выходит. Ты чувствтуешь, как твое дыхание ускоряется, в глазах темнеет. Но он тебя все ещё не убил. Чего он ждет? Что ты скорее умрешь от ужаса?
Под слабым светом твоей лампы ты смотришь в его пасть, быстро водя взглядом по острым зубам и его языку, в его открытое горло. Долгий, липкий и крайне неприятный путь. И ты не можешь пошевелиться.
Прошло несколько долгих секунд, которые казались для тебя не минутами, часами, когда язык монстра пошевелился. Сначала у основания, закрывая глотку, словно бы он хотел сглотнуть. Затем и свободный конец, ближняя часть к твоей голове, поднялся, проводя по твоему лицу и оставляя за собой влажный и прохладный, слегка щекочащий след слюны. Ощущения от внезапно мягкого языка заставили волну мурашек пройти по всему твоему телу, ты невольно стонешь от этого всего. Криль же снова рычит, но на этот раз это больше похоже на смех, нежели на угрожающий стрекот ранее.
-Отпусти меня.. -наконец найдя свой голос произносишь ты руками стараясь поднять верхнюю челюсть монстра, но так не поддается, даже наоборот, он чуть крепче сжал их, заставляя его зубы сильнее впиться в твой скальп и ты убрал от него руки.
От беспомощности по твоим щекам потекли слезы, ты закрыл рот и поджал губы. Монстр, хоть и не видел, что ты делаешь, снова облизнул твое лицо, останавливаясь на твоих губах. Надавил на них концом языка, стараясь проникнуть. Не вышло. Криль рыкнул, резко и громко, заставляя тебя вскрикнуть и этим открыть свой рот. Чудовище не теряло ни секунды, тут же проникаявлажным мускулом прямо в открывшуюся полость и касаясь твоих зубов и твоего собственного языка.
Он, кажется, знает, что делать, так как остановился, когда коснулся задней части твоего рта. Прохладный, крупный язык монстра, покрытый густой и скользкой слюной стал двигаться дальше, к твоему горлу.
Как же жаль, что у тебя проблемы с рефлексом, ведь в таком случае монстр не встретил никакой преграды, опускаясь все ниже по твоей глотке и пищеводу. Но прежде чем позволить тебе задохнуться он резко вынул язык.
Ты кашляешь, стараешься отстраниться и пытаешься вдохнуть. Все одновременно.
Криль решил, что достаточно и снова протиснулся в твой рот языком, на этот раз более щадяще, не стал опускаться слишком глубоко и решил довольствоваться тем, что есть.
В твоей голове пронеслась мысль, что было бы неплохо его укусить, но вот незадача; так же быстро как пришла эта мысль улетучилась. Кажется, тебе захотелось большего от этого монстра? У тебя нет никакой уверенности в этом, ты даже не понимаешь, почему эта мысль посетила твою голову.
Да, большой язык большого монстра, имеющий твое горло определенно не помогает. Может, что-то в его слюне? Которая словно из губки стекает с его языка в твой рот и вытекает из него по твоему побородку и шее, капая на грязный пол и впитываясь в ткань твоего костюма.
Влажно становится не только на твоей шее, но и между твоих ног, ты ерзаешь на месте и трешь бедрами друг о друга.
Чертовы подземные монстры, из чего их лепили и для какой цели!?
Медленно твои глаза закрылись, а из твоего горла снова раздался стон, более расслабленный, чем в последний раз. Тебе приятно от ощущений в твоем рту, от того, что это чудовище использует твой рот в таком ключе. Более того, он ускорил движения, уже заставляя тебя задыхаться от проникновения в твое горло и от того, что каждый твой вздох был использован для стона твоя голова начинала кружиться. У тебя не было возможности опустить хотя бы одну руку, чтобы потрогать себя, от любого твоего движения Криль начинал рычать, даже возможности объяснить ему что-то нельзя было.
Рык, слюна, горячее дыхание в твое лицо и просто факт того, что такое существо реально кружило твою голову. Его слюна проникала в твое горло, невольные сокращения твоего горла при глотании задевали находившийся глотке язык монстра, он довольно рычал от этого.
Вскоре твой громкий стон раздался по всем трубам, отражаясь и ударяясь о другие, пятно на тввоих штанах стало больше, а монстр снова рассмеялся и наконец вытащил язык, облизнул твое лицо и отпустил твою голову. Без поддержки она, вместе с твоим телом, упали на пол трубы и единственные звуки, исходящиее от тебя, были громкие вдохи и кашель. Твое тело била мелкая дрожь.
Кажется, это был сильнейший оргазм за последнее время и от чего? Из-за этого монстра, который просто использовал тебя? Возможно.
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Send one of the following symbols and one of my OC’s names and I’ll doodle:
👀 OC in their typical underwear
💤 OC in their sleep attire
🔞 OC in something sexy
🏄 OC in what they would wear to the beach/pool
👔 OC in what they would wear to a formal event (such as a wedding)
☠ OC in what they would wear to a funeral
👖 OC in what they would wear to a casual event (such as a birthday party)
👑 OC dressed as royalty
🚪 OC in what they wear when lounging around at home
💕 OC in what they would wear on a first date
❌ OC in something they would absolutely never wear
🎃 OC in a costume they’d wear for Halloween
🎄 OC in an ugly Christmas sweater
🚓 OC in a prison uniform
🚲 OC in athletic gear
🐰 OC in a kigurumi of their favourite animal
❄ OC in what they’d wear on a very cold day
🔥 OC in what they’d wear on a very hot day
👕 OC in a T-shirt with something stupid printed on it (think Zazzle)
🎭 OC in another OC’s typical attire
📦 OC wearing something that isn’t clothes (such as a fig leaf, a barrel, etc.)
👻 OC in a really bad disguise
📷 OC in a stereotypical tourist getup
🙎 OC in something embarrassing
👗 OC in something from the 50’s
💀 OC in goth/emo/scene attire
💃 OC in some radical 90’s clothes
🌁 OC in a hoodie
🌋 OC in camping or adventuring gear
♠️ OC in their armor (or in some sort of fantasy armor if not applicable to their story)
🎨 OC in a cartoon character’s outfit
🏨 OC in a maid outfit
🏥 OC in a nurse uniform
🐑 OC in farmer wear
👍 OC in a crop top
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