AO3 Mcyt Smutshots

𝐒𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐨

Like I said I didnt write this story, credits to:

Gilded_Blackstone

Skeppy ducked under a low hanging branch, fast, long strides coupled with his zooming eyes making the world around blur. The wood skimmed his cyan colored hair dangerously close to the scalp, making him greatly consider slowing down, but he knew his pursuer would do anything to get his claws on him. Hoping he didn’t bang his forehead on anything, he continued sprinting, weaving through the trees and jumping over rocks and logs.

“Oooooh, Geppyyyy!”

The voice rang out, a fresh rush of adrenaline accompanying it. He gasped, changing his direction to try and lose the other, despite knowing deep down it was futile, that Bad would find him no matter what. He received the unsurprising answer when he heard his name called out again, this time much louder regardless of the blood pounding in his ears.

His luck ran out a few minutes later into the chase, the toe of his shoe catching on a rock. Instinctively, his arms shot out in front of him, but his left leg twisted weirdly, leading his arms to pinwheel in confusion as he collapsed on his side in the grass. Rolling onto his front, he was just about to stand up when weight settled down on the small of his back.

Even though he was already captured, he persisted with the act. He screamed (mild) obscenities, thrashing around in the dirt in an attempt to buck the taller man off him.

“Hold still, you little muffin--!”

Managing to twist his body around, he shoved the black haired man back. Skeppy clambered away at least a foot before Bad yanked him back by the ankle, quickly perching on top of his stomach with either knee at his sides to avoid the wildly kicking legs.

Skeppy’s arms flew out to push Bad once more, but his wrists were seized easily, tightly held above his head. Wiggling did nothing to dissuade his captor, the noirette reaching into his pocket and retrieving a bottle. The potion’s contents spiraled in shades of purple, the hues dark.

Recognizing the brew, Skeppy struggled while he still could, pursing his lips when the uncorked potion was pressed there.

Bad forced it past, Skeppy reluctantly opening up so that he didn’t chip a tooth. “Don’t spit it out. Swallow it all or else.”

Letting it tumble to the side, the same hand clamped over his mouth, nails digging into his cheek. White eyes narrowed at the bluette, challenging him to waste the elixir.

Skeppy gave a heavy gulp, and the instant the liquid flowed down and burned his throat, he felt weak. Bad let go of his wrists to pat him condescendingly on the cheek, other hand stroking through cyan locks.

“Good job Geppy! Such a good boy, huh?” he cooed, thumbing just under his eye to catch the falling tears and taste them. “Hm, salty.”

Normally, a weakness potion wouldn’t be this effective, but Skeppy could barely lift a limb. His arms were cooked noodles, flopping uselessly where they were left raised above his head in the grass. His legs twitched, itching to get up and flee from the situation.

The bluette croaked. “B-bad…”

Bad shushed him, moving off his torso to scoop him up into his arms, carrying him bridal style. “My goodness, you’re so filthy from all that running around and playing in the dirt! Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of those clothes in a jiffy!”