#I need to pin him to the wall with pins and duct tape and just stare at him and study him for hours and taking notes

[mintaikk]

Analyzing Tumblr sexymen so people don't feel the need to judge someone for their "HEAR ME OUT" characters, Vox from Hazbin Hotel addition! Also, since I think this is like, the first actually terrible person that I've covered, plz note that someone liking a terrible character doesn't mean they condone their actions!

Part 1, Prev

There's probably other stuff in there as well, like how shipping him with Val probably enhanced his chances of being a popular sexyman 🤷‍♂️

[infin1ty-garden]

STILL ALIVE

ೃ⁀➷ summary: headcanons of the f1 drivers as the scream killer, ghostface ೃ⁀➷ charcters: CS55, LN4, OP81, LS2, CL16, MV1 & DR3 ೃ⁀➷ warnings: mention of murder, drugs and drinking ೃ⁀➷ word count: 1k ೃ⁀➷ author note: suppose to be a halloween special but couldn't finish it in time

masterlist.

CARLOS AND LANDO

They are kind of the Billy and Stu being ghostface for fun mostly and fame Lando was already popular but in school that couldn't compare to real fame and the fastest way to do so, be a serial killer And who better to be a accomplice then his best friend, Carlos The first victim was easy Lando found out his charm still worked even on the phone while Carlos did the killing Carlos never felt better, the thrill of kill will be something he wouldn't be able to live without That's where you come in having arrived home to find your boyfriend covered in blood

"Baby, it's not what it looks like," you were horrified understandably. You tried running but Lando stopped you from leaving. "Sweety don't leave. It's gonna be okay," you were suddenly out like a light. Only to wake up tied to a chair and duct tape covering your mouth.

You started thrashing around in order to free yourself but to no avail. "Don't worry we won't hurt you," Lando said as he slowly caressed your face. Your head jerked violently away from him. "He isn't lying. We will never harm you. I know your scared and confused."

They kept to their promise to you but the killings didn't stop But your relationship changed with Carlos. It took time to trust him again and Lando as well They treated you like a queen, it was all so confusing. They were murderers. They had killed people What will you do turn them in or be a accomplice by association?

OSCAR AND LOGAN

Oscar had been using the ghostface identity for a while now what he didn't expect was a showdown with the real ghostfaces Once Logan finally managed to take off the mask only for his friend's eye to be staring back at him Since that moment the three of you teamed up, worked together, killed together It has brought you closer and added a new partner to your and Logan's relationship Logan for a while has had some form of feelings for Oscar, only now realising that those weren't just friendship but love Oscar fit right in with the both of you like this was meant to happen

Oscar and Logan had gone out for a kill. Their victim this time, your ex. The guy decided to pop back into your life, thought he could embarrass you or coax the boys in leaving you. Whatever his plan was...

They couldn't let that slide. His blood was the one on their knives. Every stab brought a smile to their faces. Only stopping when he wasn't breathing. Logan was a bit shaken up despite everything he still wasn't used to it.

Once they'd come home the first thing Logan did was look for you. Oscar and you spent the rest of your night comforting Logan. Playing with his hair and cuddling. It was a nice finish to the day.

CHARLES LECLERC

Charles had been obsessed with you for a while but now he didn't have to hide his affection with the ghostface identity he could act anyway he wanted It would be an understatement if say ghostface bringing you roses wasn't weird Wasn't ghostface a vicious killer murdering a bunch of people on campus He would leave you different gifts every time but never appearing himself, untill...

"What's your favourite scary movie?" You rolled your eyes. "Pierre, this is so unoriginal on halloween really?" The only answer on the other side is breathing. "This isn't fucking Pierre," you walked around the apartment locking the doors just incase.

"Okay then who are you," you said, taking a knife. "There's no need for that," ghostface suddenly appeared slowly making his way towards you. "I'm not going to hurt you," you swung the knife. "Sure," then in a second the knife was flying out of your hands and you were pinned to the wall.

"I mean it, I didn't spend weeks planning the perfect gifts for you to treat me like this."

"I don't care, take them back," he held your face so you were looking at him. The mask was removed and you saw the face of your best friend staring at you. "Charles! WHAT THE FUCK! You scared the shit out of me," he moved away from you.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you so badly," you gently cradled his face. "You dumb idiot."

DANIEL AND MAX

Both of the drivers have had a crush on you and what better way to get rid off the competition then murdering them You would come crying to them about one of your friends dying. They would be all comforting, despite they're the reason for your distress Your reaction would not deter them from their actions, in fact encourage them You would become closer and more dependent on them. It made them feel like they're on cloud nine. All this attention from you like a drug they can't get enough of You were with them almost all the time

You were at a halloween party one of your friends was having. Max and Daniel stuck to you like two guard dogs. Anybody who they didn't recognize or got too close, they would stand in front of you like a wall. Daniel was dressed up as a shirtless cowboy and Max as ghostface.

You had gotten really drunk and Daniel had lost track of you. You were looking to get even more drunk but someone grabbed your waist grinding their boner into you. Without a word he started taking you to a room, one you didn't recognize.

Everything was a blur. The guy was on you and started kissing you. The same dude was suddenly thrown on the ground. Daniel was in front of you in an instant. "Hey, did he do anything to you," he asked, looking over every part of you. Max was dealing with the dude.

By dealing, killing. You stared in shock. No matter how drunk. It was still murder. Max started stabbing him and didn't stop until he was choking on his own blood. "Max?" Daniel quickly turned your face away from the scene as you hugged him. "I just wanna go home."

It took you a while to trust Max again but you did cuz you had no one else

Thanks for reading!

[sophsicle]

tw blood and violence

[let me preface this by saying it makes no sense, i just wanted james and sirius to commit murder]

"Oh fuck."

"Are you okay?"

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck."

"James? Hey, hey look at me? Look at me? Are you okay?"

A hysterical laugh bubbles from his mouth. "Sirius."

Sirius only nods, hands cradling James's face, hot and sticky and smelling of iron. "I know, I know," he pushes some of the hair off of James's forehead. "I'm gonna take care of it, I promise. But first I need to know that you're okay? He didn't - he didn't hurt you did he?" his voice strains on those last words.

There's only the smallest pause. And then, choked; "I'm okay."

A shaky smile makes its way across Sirius's face. "Good," pulling James forward and kissing the top of his head. "That's good." He lets go of him, standing up and turning towards the body on the floor, blood pooling around the back of its caved-in skull.

"He deserved it," Sirius says, and there's no doubt in his voice. His hands stained red - James wishes that was a metaphor. He feels cold all of a sudden, trembling. And like he's going to be sick. He's definitely going to be sick. Fuck.

He turns to the side, vomiting all over the hard concrete floor, heaving and shaking and covered in a feverish sweat. He squeezes his eyes shut, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

"James?"

He needs to get it together. He thinks it's the adrenaline. The shock. It's making him feel wired and jumpy and out of control. "I k-killed him."

"No," Sirius's voice is so stern that James can't help but look up. "I killed him, you understand?"

"Sirius-"

"James, this is important okay? This is very important," James is held in his eyes, caressed by them, put back together. "If anyone asks-"

"You think they're going to ask?" his voice breaks. "Oh fuck, oh fuck they are, aren't they? We can't hide this. We can't. They're going to know. They're going to find out. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh-"

"James," Sirius doesn't crouch down again, just comes over and places a hand on James's head, in his hair, tilts it up to look at him. Sirius Black is an altar to be prayed at. A god to be feared. A boy with very, very sharp teeth. "I told you I was going to take care of it and I will. But if anyone ever comes looking. If anyone asks. It was me, okay?"

James sees flashes. Thrashing limbs. An aching in his side where he'd been repeatedly beaten. A heavy body on top of him. Fingers around his throat. And then Sirius. Sirius had come. Just as his vision was starting to twitch and flicker and snuff out. Sirius had come for him.

Sirius always came.

"I killed him," Sirius repeats, and staring into his eyes, James knows Sirius wishes that was true. Wishes he could've protected James like he'd meant to.

Sirius runs his hand through James's hair for a few seconds, calming him down, before he pulls away and James resists the urge to grab his wrist and hold him still. Sirius circles the man on the floor, eyes cold, empty.

He finds a carpet in one of the other rooms and James helps him lift the body onto it, rolling it up, sealing it shut with duct tape. The blood on the floor is thick, like molasses, and dark. James tries to trick his mind into thinking it's something else. Anything else. But it doesn't work.

The moments are jumbled up in his head. Like they all happened at once. Sirius getting the man off of him. Slamming him into the wall, slamming his fist into his face. James choking and gagging on the floor, trying to catch his breath.

He's not sure what happened.

His vision had still been pins and needles.

He wasn't following the fight. All he knows is he heard Sirius make a noise. Desperate. Animal. His brain kind of switched off then. At the idea that Sirius was in pain. It all felt out of his control after that.

Sirius comes to stand beside him. "We'll douse it in bleach. Fill it with rocks. And then let the river take him, alright?"

James nods numbly, still staring at the blood.

He'd gotten the man off of Sirius. Gotten them back on the floor. This time with the body below him, thrashing and yelling. Curses turned to pleas as James took him by the hair and slammed his head into the concrete floor. Again. Again. Again.

Sirius had tried to stop him. He knows that.

But he couldn't.

Not with Sirius's voice in his head. Making that noise.

His best friend is now on his hands and knees scrubbing up the blood he spilt.

"Shit, sorry, let me-" James grabs a rag, getting down with him, the water turning the blood pink. Soaking the knees of their jeans.

They clean in silence for a moment before Sirius starts to...there's no other word for it...giggle. James abruptly stops scrubbing. Staring at him.

"Is this..." he starts slowly, "are you in shock?"

Sirius shakes his head and then stops. "Maybe," the word bubbles out of his mouth. "I just, I keep thinking," he looks up at James, eyes bright. "Always knew I was gonna be hiding a dead body with you one day."

It isn't funny.

Isn't even a joke.

And yet. Somehow. James finds himself laughing too.

[h4nn4hra]

Incorrect quotes

P4?

Again family stuff with mainly Will, Gilan, Halt and Crowley

----------------------------------------------------------

Will: I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble usually

finds me first.

---

Halt: Damn, the power went out.

Will: Don't worry, I got this.

Will: *shakes rapidly and starts to light up*

Halt: What-?

Will: I swallowed a glow stick!

Halt, on the verge of tears: WHY WOULD YOU-

---

Halt: Gilan...

Gilan: I can tell by the tone of your voice that you are disappointed. Alas, must further disappoint you by affirming how little I give a f***.

---

Crowley: Who's in charge here?

Will, shrugging: Usually whoever yells the loudest.

---

Will: What would Halt think?

Gilan: Ok, that's an interesting thought, but hear me out: what if... we ran an experiment where we spent the rest of our lives finding out what happened if we never told him?

---

Halt : Yes, I'm adopting Will and you cowards can't tell me no!

---

Halt: I'm telling you, my team is competent.

Crowley, rushing in: Halt! Gilan tried to make pasta in the coffee pot and now it's broken!

---

Will: I will send my army to attack!

Will: *releases a dumpster of puppies*

---

Will: So I can either do something dumb that could very well get me injured or I can listen to Halt and not do the thing,

Will: Well there's a clear right answer here.

Will: *proceeds to throw five packs of mentos into a barrel full of diet coke*

---

Halt: GET BACK HERE!

Will: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

---

Crowley: Are you a painting?

Halt: What-?

Crowley: Because I want to pin you to a wall.

Gilan: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG THEM OR SOMETHING-

---

Crowley: Sometimes I drink milk straight from the container.

Will: The cow??

Crowley: What?

Gilan: Will, WHY?

---

Crowley: Silence is golden.

Halt: Duct tape is silver.

---

Will: When do you usually go to sleep?

Halt: Whenever I collapse is entirely up to the gods.

---

Halt: What's the most efficient way to burn calories?

Gilan: Exercise more!

Will: Set yourself on fire.

Crowley: There are two kinds of people.

---

Halt, looking through their clothes: has anyone seen my top?

Gilan: Crowley's in the kitchen

Halt:

Halt: Not what I meant

Gilan: Oh, Duncan's in the study

Halt: I was talking about my clothes

---

Crowley: I'm so tired of this life. I want to be a roomba. I want knives taped to me. And I want to be set loose.

---

Halt: We need to distract these guys.

Crowley: Leave it to me.

Crowley: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss.

Gilan & Will: *immediately begin arguing*

---

Halt: What the f*** is wrong with you??

Crowley: What? No good morning?

Halt: Good morning, what the f*** is wrong with you??

---

Will: Help! I’m drowning!

Gilan: Calm down. We’re only in six feet of water!

Will: NOT ALL OF US ARE TALL!

---

Crowley: I'm tired.

Halt: You slept for three hours last night! Why are you surprised?!

Crowley: I'm not surprised. I just wanted to complain about it.

---

Crowley: I'm tired.

Halt: You slept for three hours last night! Why are you surprised?!

Crowley: I'm not surprised. I just wanted to complain about it.

---

Gilan: Yum, thanks!

Kidnapper: *puts more tape over their mouth* I said stop eating it.

---

Gilan: You’ve got to learn to love yourself.

Will: But don't you hate yourself.

Gilan: Yeah, but this is about you. Stay focused.

---

Will: I have to say, I'm a little embarra**ed for you.

Gilan: This is a sports-related injury. It makes me look cool!

Will: Tripping over a basketball on your way to the bathroom is not cool!

---

Crowley: Wait a minute, how did this happen? We're smarter than this!

Will: Apparently, we're not.

---

Will: Why am I the bad guy?

Gilan: I don't know, why am I the pretty one? We all have our thing.

---

Will, texting Halt: *sends a voice message*

Halt, texting back: I’m a little busy, is it urgent?

Will: No, don’t worry, just listen later.

*later*

Halt: *presses play*

Will's voice message: THERE’S A FIRE-

---

Halt: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?

Gilan: *crouches down*

Crowley: *kneels down*

Horace: *sits on the floor*

Halt:

Halt: I hate all of you.

---

Gilan: What do you call a dictionary on drugs?

Will: If you say "addict-ionary" I swear I will shoot you.

Gilan: I was actually going to say "high definition", but your answer's much better.

Will: ...

---

Gilan: Do you want some tea?

Halt: What are the options?

Gilan: Yes or no.

---

Will: I wanna sleep for 40 hours.

Halt: You know that's called a coma, right?

Will:

Will: That sounds so refreshing, I could totally go for a light coma right now.

[franklyshipping]

You absolutely give off a vibe that if you were to ever quit writing tickle fics of the egos that you would send it off with a grand finale where EVERYONE gets tickled. Probably by a big viney monster.

I can see the plot being something like Marvin's magic mishaps and one of Henrik's experiements (or an experiment on Marvin's magic) going "horribly wrong" and how each character has their own little perspective of the chaos. And knowing you, you'd add small details the reference someone else's perspective (aka hearing a "manly shriek" followed by the perspective of said shriek). Each perspective of each character and what they were doing before the mishap, like Magnum tying up his boat before being scooped up by a creature similar to Gazooks from Raggedy Ann and Andy. Or Dark doing paperwork, his mind numbing as he reads over the numbers as Wilford bugs him to get up and stretch. Dark finally snaps after a playful poke and pins Wilford to the wall with a growly growl "You're about to stretch in a minute" followed by both also being grabbed by the monster.

The jims were doing brotherly twin activities with Eric, roughhousing with him. Both Jims get him pinned and are just about to get him. Eric closes his eyes, too flustered to watch but nothing happens. Surely it's an anticipation trick, but he falls for it. He peeks an eye open and reporter jim is no longer straddling his thighs. Camera jim ran off to rescue his brother and gets captured. Eric attempts to run off to get help and of course, gets captured as well.

Googles were probably in the middle of maintenance. Bing was doing a sick trick where he's doing a handstand on top of a ramp. Anti and Jamie were planning their next prank and it goes "horribly wrong" in the sense that it was rudely interrupted by the monster (they probably duct taped Chase to the wall and were just about to get him out. Poor chase doesn't even need to be scooped up!)

Robbie was being a little assistant for Shawn and in an attempt to show affection, he paints one of Robbie's cheeks to make him giggle. He goes back to work and finds something is brushing against his cheek. In a comedic turn of events Shawn thinks it's Robbie trying to get him back, only to discover it was in fact a paint brush like tendril/vine. Hijinks ensue.

Yancy was on facetime with Murderslaughter who is NOT helping the situation at all, telling the beast to aim for his ribs and teasing him about going soft if he couldn't handle one monster when he was used to 20 or.more hands grabbing him at a time. The beast proceeds to grow more appendages to get Yancy.

Jackie and Silver were probably practice sparring with each other for training as Host, Yandere, and Dr. Iplier watch. Jackie 80 percent of the time is able to pin Silver down, but Host keeps resetting their positions either way, getting a kick out of Jackie's determination and playful annoyance. Dr. Iplier is watching their vitals, superhero stamina is such an interesting thing, especially since this sparring has been going on for hours and only starting to get a little tired. Yandere is there to cheer on and shout out fighting manuevers, planning to have both heroes tuckered out before attacking themselves. They then just barely hear Host's narration murmurs, something about a monster about to interrupt their sparring. Couple of seconds later and bam, all 5 of them are captured and just their luck, the two superheroes are also captured and too weak to pry off the appendages

Illinois is the only one who almost got away. Almost. His overwhelming luck allowed him to not get captured. Until he ran into Actor who thought it'd be funny to throw him into the chaos. Actor was just about to walk away when Ben got captured. Some would say Actor would have just left him, but he was fulled by jealousy because no one messes with his butler but him!

Unus and Annus were in the middle of a séance for fun to see what would happen. They think they caused the monster to appear.

And that's all the ones I could think of. Obviously I would never ask you for such a big feat. But you defo give off the vibe that if you ever quit writing fanfics, you'd give one hell of a last hurrah!

YOU DAMN FUCKIN BET I WOULD HOLY SHIT THIS IDEA IS SO COOL - I'm not at the point of stopping outright yet as I still have prompts to fulfil, but you have correctly identified My Vibe for a finale 😆💜

[dnangelic]

@longerhuman asked: sneaking into the niwa’s residence was hardly a difficult task for someone as nimble as dazai , though he was admittedly faced with an onslaught of dread when he viewed his dear friend’s house up close for the first time . a mansion ? for that little pint sized twerp ? how utterly ridiculous ! though needing to get to the second story was tedious in concept , it was a piece of cake for someone who regularly kept a rope on his personal for his suicidal proclivities . once he hauls himself over the balcony’s ledge , a brown grocery bag cradled in one arm , he’s careful to approach the window as quietly as possible , steps against the pavement light &. weightless as a feather . he made quick work of unlocking the window with one of the pins he kept hidden beneath his wrist bandages , &. ushered his body into the building the moment it opened , sparing no time to observe the house’s architecture though it was of begrudging interest . ❝ niwa - saaaaan ! wake up , you’re going to be late for school . ❞ he calls out loudly from the windowsill despite it being midnight on a saturday , perched on it’s ledge in a crouch , the brown paper lowering to rest beside him . dazai tried to squint into the darkness in an attempt to see if his little companion was already awake , but with one eye covered by a perpetual bandage , his vision was greatly stunted . he waited until he could hear signs of life &. movement on the other end of the room before pulling a pistol from his waistband . it’s immediately raised towards the boy’s bed , a resounding click of the safety being turned off echoing on daisuke’s bedroom walls . ❝ i’ve prepared something to remedy a problem of yours . ❞ with dazai , this was never a good thing . in his organization , he was notorious for making devil concoction hotpots that were so despicable &. dangerous , anyone who had the misfortune of being forced ( usually held at gunpoint ) to taste test them often suffered delusions , hallucinations , or the occasional brain - bleed . ❝ get up , walk to the bag on the windowsill . unless you want to get shot . who knows , maybe niwa - san is finally feeling suicidal on this particular day ! ❞ he keeps the muzzle steady &. trained on what appeared to be the red - head’s figure . ❝ ne , niwa - san is a growing boy , right ? but i keep thinking — how come he hasn’t gotten any taller ? it’s just awful , so i used my ginormous brain to construct a hotpot that is guaranteed to extend your vertical profile . there’s just a few side effects … nausea , potential death , seizures , cramps , headaches , hallucinations , voice - cracks — but don’t worry about any of that ! ❞ inside the brown bag is indeed a metal bowl with a plastic , fog covered lid held over the top with black duct tape . next to it is a mug , purple in hue , with a removable lid that contained cold milk . ❝ it’s imperative that you drink the refreshment I supplied right after tasting the remedy . it’s a natural activation for my potion — &. if your puny , shrimp - like stature is any indication , you’re in desperate need of milk … it might just help you get bigger ! ❞ he certainly didn’t supply the milk to combat the spice infested main - course , that would be far too considerate . the hotpot isn’t actually a hotpot , though he would refer to it as such — he didn’t even make it himself . it’s mostly homemade spicy curry he got from a trusted coworker of his , with some strange , inappropriate additions such as non-poisonous mushrooms &. gummy worms mixed in to make it seem inedible &. foul . unlike his usual concoctions , it’s void of drugs or anything that could possibly be fatal . ❝ you’re going to eat it , won’t you ? i spent all this time &. effort preparing this meal for you . besides , if your eyes melt out of your head … then you must not be worthy of living another year . ❞ // sorry . this is so long . i’m so sorry . 🙏 happy bday daisuke !

it's not entirely an unfamiliar voice , but through daisuke's waking grog it's initially impossible to discern . sleep could be a precious commodity at times for the hectic niwa : every morning he was expected to dodge one of the many violent death traps his mother had no qualm sacrificing his very own bed for , complete with challenging expectations such as : get dressed within one second ! pick this lock with your right hand , and hack this security system with your left within five ! it's thus the gentle rouse of dazai's whispers that perhaps shocks him the most . eyes snap open and the red-headed boy scrambles and flusters into a sit upwards in an instant --- only to be met with the black barrel of the other's gun . ' wh ... ' he gasps and covers his mouth , both hands blocking out any of his own voice . why was his life always like this ?! if he screamed , no doubt the entirety of his family , and even dark would wake up , a dozen members rushing all at once towards the upper floor . but then what would happen to dazai ?

' u-um , ' obedient despite the tremble of woken-terror and speeding adrenaline in his legs , he stiffly marches himself towards the bag on the sill as demanded , both of his hands held haplessly upwards . frankly , spoken as someone who was meant to be a professional escape artist , there were better places to place objects of supposed threat like this . it's a surprisingly sharp comment that daisuke decides to keep to himself , dazai's own spoken words stuffing themselves into his ears instead . when he considered it , just what was anyone supposed to say in these sorts of circumstances ?! ' ... g-goodnight , hello to you too , wah --- ' his vertical profile , huh . maybe , if this had been just about anyone else , the niwa might have been dumb enough , or maybe just desperate enough , to shut his eyes and willingly guzzle anything down for just a few more inches of height . but this looked really bad .

dazai wouldn't actually go so far as to kill him , right ? in his own house , in his own bedroom , and on his very own own birthday !? even knowing that the other's sense of humor could be cruel and callous , he would have never guessed that it could truly extend this far . daisuke still isn't sure whether to flee , to turn about and beg his case to the boy behind the threatening pistol , or to , despite it all , continue to trust the other . he thinks --- even if it's a fatal poison , his entire family was still here . towa-chan , his father , his mother , each with unique specializations that could be rushed to if things truly turned fatal . so the niwa grips his fists and shuts his eyes ; nods his head . he would eat it , though --- what kind of crazy test was this really supposed to be ?! at midnight under the moonlight with the floral , vine-rose waft of azumano's breeze caressing his cheek from the open sill , it could have been as romantic a stage as romeo and juliet's balcony . alas , the tragedy was only to come : pushing through every emotion of alarm urging him not to do it , he takes his first bite .

... it tastes weird .

it's horribly sweet in a few bizarre areas , and the chewy texture of dazai's additions mingle strangely with the unmistakably strong taste and burgeoning spice of curry starting to inflame his tongue . daisuke coughs , practically collapsing onto the sill , his head flung into the center of both of his arms , as if he had just been whacked from behind . the boy's tolerance for spicy foods had always been low , despite the way he seemed to regularly suffer at the hands of it thanks to any innocent , oblivious chefs-in-training . maybe he really would die from something like this . the sentence has barely left his thoughts before he suddenly rejects it , lifting himself from the sill with a small slam and an intense look of determination in his eyes , despite the shimmering wells of tears budding up at the corner of each iris . he wouldn't give up as long as there were things left that he wanted to do on this day .

the milk comes next , and though it hardly assists in alleviating any amount of the strange , incoherent blend of tastes rampaging across his tongue , it at least soothes enough of the burning sensation to allow daisuke to speak , albeit forced through coughs and dewy tears . ' --- i did it , ' spoken as a point of challenged and triumphant pride . the sense of it slips away fast as it had arrived ; daisuke's voice softens and hushes down into a burnt and haggard whisper . ' b-but , dazai-kun , why ... ' on this particular day . his birthday ? ' was this ... ' supposed to be his birthday gift from the other ?!

without another word a hand reaches out to touch at the other boy's skin --- ' w-wait , dazai-kun , ' before the either of them might have even realized it , daisuke was already holding his friend by the wrist . ' i ... had a feeling that something like this might happen . no , what i mean is --- i was really hoping that i'd get to see you today . ' uncertain as ever as to whether or not the other would sneer at or decline any sort of invitation , leaving nothing but empty absence and still silence behind . in the shared present between them , he still doesn't know what was supposed to come next after this ; whether or not dazai had been planning to escape as swiftly as he had entered , or if the boy would find another reason to stay . daisuke clings to them before they could potentially vanish , a single plead in his voice .

' ... before you go , will you come with me to the kitchen ? please , ' gently , he takes the other out of the bedroom and down the house's steps , still dressed in nothing more than his pajamas , cheeks flushed bright red . bare feet quietly patter along the ornate tiles of the niwa's residence ; they pass by carved railings , the crystal chandelier of the main foyer , and the myriad vases , sculptures , and gold-framed portraits lining the halls until finally they arrive at the building's sole kitchen . daisuke doesn't meddle with anything inside and steps further towards the family refrigerator , quietly opening it . retrieving a single , carefully clear-wrapped slice of cake , he offers it out to the other with a small smile . this was it , precious as a fragile bird's nest in his hands . something that he had been carefully preserving for the other .

' dazai-kun . here . ' the blush across his cheeks remains visible even in the dim light of night . ' i tried ... to think about it really carefully . whether or not you would like things like parties , or what i might be able to do for you . ' yes , even on his very own birthday . ' in the end , i still don't know whether or not dazai-kun gets a lot of things like this all the time ... or if he even likes sweets . but i thought that even if we didn't get to spend time at a party together , or maybe if he was just busy or didn't like things like that , then maybe i could at least get the chance to still give him something . '

insisting upon its acceptance , placing the dessert , plastic fork , and disposable plate into the other's grasp , daisuke is fast to turn their shared direction about , practically sliding dazai across the floor in a guide of them towards the front door . ' ... you have to get out of here before somebody wakes up , okay ? ' nevermind the trouble of having to explain himself and an unexpected guest if they ended up caught . his mother , upon ever realizing that the family mansion of thieves had been so easily broken into , would no doubt turn devastated before becoming even stricter with the fatal traps set out for her son . daisuke's peaceful , unhindered night-time bathroom breaks would be completely over .

' but --- i'm really happy that i got to see you . ' there's nothing but sincerity in his voice ; a warm glow . the palms of his hands on the other's shoulders like this , it's the closest thing to the sort of tight and warm embrace that he wishes that he could have happily given to the other . any happier , and it might have been the great phantom thief dark himself bidding the mafioso farewell from the doorway . the pound of his heart wouldn't have been able to stop for hours . ' ... thank you so much , dazai-kun . ' he grins and he waves . this much was more than enough . ' for coming to visit me today . '

[klitzcore]

How would Edward Nashton react to catching reader wearing his riddler outfit and doing an impersonation of him infront of a mirror :)

Character: Edward Nashton

Prompt: Edward catching you impersonating him in the mirror!

"The vile stench of murder runs rampant through the streets of Gotham! Murders, lies! Social hierarchies made to shun those out who really need the help!"

Edward had just come back to his apartment from running to the corner store, and that's the first thing he heard.

He feels his heart race, what were you doing?

You had met Edward last year when you started going to the cafe on the corner. You had been kicked from your old apartment, so you had to start renting on this side of Gotham. and since you met Edward, the two of you had been inseparable.

You met him when he was probably in the worst time of his life. You'd known him for months before his possible personal kill-a-thon. He was about to go and kill the mayor, but you caught him when he was exiting his apartment.

He looked horrified when he saw you, and tried to run the other direction. You pinned him in the corner and demanded an explanation, so you drug him to his apartment. There, you were drug into something you promptly couldn't understand.

There were photos and newspapers pinned to his walls, and contraptions you could never understand. He hated the way you looked him at that day, terror reigning in your eyes. He explained his motives and plans, trying to bargain with him. And all Edward recieved was a "You really need help, Edward."

With a lot of convincing, he got a therapist that he saw 3 times a week. Since you caught him, you wouldn't let him go back to his apartment for around a month until he could face it. He lived with you for a month, you'd monitor him always and made sure his therapy would go good.

It was hard for him to go back to his apartment, but you stood with him the entire time. And for the next two days after that, you two cleaned it. You both scrubbed it clean. Got rid of all the papers on the walls, his ledgers that he now hated, his equipment and contraptions, etc. You had gotten rid of all of it for him.

But he didn't get rid of his costume, there was just too much of an attachment to it.

And as Edward peeked around the corner, he understood what was happening. You stood infront of the full body mirror, adorning the olive green outfit. Your hair peeked out from the straps of the mask.

You held a roll of duct tape in your hands. Your finger curls under one of the edges, then you pull it open. The sound of the tape stretches through the room.

"What are you doing?" Edward asks, now stepping into the room. He leans on the doorframe, looking you up and down.

You freeze, then you drop the tape that was in your hands. You turn around in a slow fashion.

"Um.. I just.. okay, let me- okay. It looks cool, and I wanted to get to see something.. maybe understand the intention better?" You said. It was meant like a statement, but came out as a question instead.

Edward feels a smile curl onto his face.

"You're wearing it wrong." He draws closer to you.

"Come here, if you're gonna impersonate me, at least make the outfit fit together correct." He smiles.

[diamond-coral]

Bargaining Chip

Hello! This is my first time posting on Tumblr ever:) I pulled this one-shot from a fic I posted on AO3 a few months ago but the plot is irrelavent and I changed it from first person to second as well as some details so it can be read as a stand alone. There’s some plot from the actual story but you really don’t need to know it at all.

There might be a few errors, especially because I changed the entire point of view and converted it to present tense from past tense so sorry:) 

Loki manages to get his hands on you and exchanges you and your body for his ticket to independence from the Avengers. Bucky gets to go first.

Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters included: Loki, and a little bit of Tony, Steve, and Thor

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY!!! SMUT (NON-CON TOUCHING, FORCED ORAL SEX (m receiving), KNIFE THREATS, DARK! AVENGERS, BUCKY’S AN ASSHOLE IN THIS, DEGRADATION, BASICALLY FORCED PROSTITUTION) READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

You awake in the passenger seat of your own car with only foggy memories of you and your partner before everything had gone dark. Your mission from the CIA...breaking and entering the motherfucking Avenger’s facility and managing to escape...you were so close. If it weren’t for him. In your haze, you look to see who could possibly have the audacity to be driving your car, and there sits Loki, the God of Mischief, who you had only scene on the news, driving one hand and inspecting something in his other.

“Good evening my lady. Sleep well?” he mocks without taking his eyes off the item in his hand which upon further inspection from you looks to be... a red leash?

What the hell?

“I do hope you like your outfit,” he continues. “I think I assembled quite the get up for you.”

Looking down, you let out a muffled scream that was cut off by a strip of duct tape. Your hands are bound in your lap, but that isn’t what horrifies you. It’s what’s underneath them. You take into account your bare legs, fully on display, with a black dress leaving little to the imagination. The top half is just as horrifying with it’s plunging neckline. Your legs end with a pair of strappy gold heels that ensures any chances of running away to be futile while your upper arms are adorned in golden bracelets accented with emeralds. Whether the emeralds were real or fake, you could care less. You have bigger problems to worry about.

“What the fuck?!”

Is what you try to say, but the gag only makes it come out as a mangled ball of muffled murmurs. Though the chuckle Loki lets out implies he understands your enraged speaking attempt.

“You, my dear, are going to be a bargaining chip. I heard about your little escapade at the Avenger’s facility last night. Impressive, I must say, but my brother and his little hero posse had been looking for you relentlessly after that. They are practically obsessed with catching the women that managed to break into their high security building.”

Loki takes a sharp turn into a parking garage, narrowly missing the wall. You squeal as your precious car runs over the curb.

“I forgot how much I hate mortal transportation devices. But Stark had to build this tower in the middle of New York to feed his ever-growing ego and now I’m the one that has to rely on a car to get me there,” he grumbles while pulling into a parking space. He takes a deep breath once the car is parked. “Now, I’m going to remove that gag out of your mouth, and if you scream, I will peel your skin off of your body in the slowest, most painful way imaginable. Understood?”

You nod frantically and he rips the tape off, extracting a whimper from your now stinging mouth. You open your mouth for him to take the wad of cloth out that was under the duct tape. As he extracts it, you snap your mouth shut in an attempt to bite him, but he’s quick to evade and grabs your jaw harshly.

“What did I say before?” he seethes. 

“You said not to scream. I didn’t scream. Now let go of my face.”

Loki roughly throughs your face to the side, letting go, and looks around the surroundings of the car, probably checking for any unwanted onlookers.

“Out of the car. Now,” he orders and you hastily oblige using your bound hands to open the door.

As you shut the door, you catch a glimpse of your own reflection and grimace. You look like a hooker. Aside from the skimpy outfit, your hair was pinned up and intertwined with gold strands. Your makeup is done as well. Sultry eye shadow and dark red lipstick.

“I didn’t know the God of Mischief was a makeup guru,” you jab.

He ignores you and harshly pushes you forward. “Walk.”

“Where’s my partner?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Loki replies. “She has other uses than the one I currently need you for.”

“And what use am I needed for?”

“I already told you. By the gods, you mortals are stupid. You are to be a bargaining chip, (Y/N).”

Your blood runs cold. “How do you know my name?” you ask.

“I know everything about you. Including your peculiar abilities.”

You stop dead in your tracks.

“Now, don’t worry,” he adds. “As amusing to me as it would be, I have no interest in enlightening the Avengers to your secret identity. As far as they will know, I am simply giving them the criminal that broke into their compound.”

“And what’s in it for you?” you ask as he guidesyou into an elevator.

After pushing a button, he goes to fix his dark green tie. “Clever girl now aren’t you?”

“Answer the question.”

“How about-no?” he muses and a soft ding resonates through the elevator.

The doors opened and, for a moment, you forget the predicament your in. Inside was the most beautiful penthouse you had ever seen. The opposite wall was made entirely out of glass allowing a view of the New York City night skyline. Everything little piece of furniture each looks as expensive as your car, but your focus becomes drawn to the minibar. The Avengers were all sitting there, laughing, and most were obviously drunk.

“Here James, try some of this,” Thor booms.

Bucky makes a face. “Why would I drink something from another planet meant for Gods?”

“Jeez Buck it’s the only thing that can get you and I drunk,” Steve slurs and claps Bucky on the shoulder. “It’s your birthday. Live it up a little.”

Bucky hesitates before grabbing the flask Thor offers him and throwing his head back, downing the flask in one go.

Loki seems to have enough of the party scene as he clears his throat to interrupt them.

“Gentlemen-”

Before Loki uttered another word all the Avengers clambered from their seats to grab their weapons, but their intoxicated state just makes it a comical sight. Captain America falls over in an attempt to reach for his shield below the table. Tony Stark’s iron man mask smacks him over the head as he fails to turn in time to catch it on his face. Sam Wilson chokes on his drink and falls backwards off his barstool in shock.

“I come bearing no ill tidings.” Loki spread his arms.

“Then why bother coming at all?” Thor growls, shifting his hammer to his right hand.

“I’ve come to make an offer.”

With that, Loki snatches your wrist and throws you towards him and the other men. You stumbled in you stilettos and let out a yelp as you land on the floor looking up at the 5 present Avengers: Thor, the Winter Soldier, Captain America, Iron Man, and the Falcon. They all look down on you with perplexed looks etched onto their faces.

“You guys have been so caught up and stressed about finding your security breaches that I was generous enough to do some finding myself,” Loki explains.

“And how do we know you didn’t just pluck some prostitute off the street?” Caps eyes rake up and down your body.

Loki scoffs. “Always the skeptic captain. Does this answer your question?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flash-drive.

Tony snatches it from his hands. “Jarvis, what’s on this drive?” he asks, holding the drive up to a scanner in the glasses he’s wearing.

“It appears to be the files you have been collecting the 2 vigilantes you have been tracking and-.”

“Okay thanks J!” Tony interrupts quickly before Jarvis could spill any more information. He proceeds to storm up to your cowering and kneeling form that hadn’t dared move and harshly grabs your jaw.

Jesus, what was with these men and your poor, bruised jaw?

“Why would you possibly need this information?” he asks calmly, but his eyes are feral. He studies you and his brows furrow. Did he manage to piece it all together that you were the alleged vigilante they had been hunting? He lets go of your jaw and throws you back on the floor. “What business do you have looking for them?”

Looking for them? You let out a sigh of relief.

“None of your business,” you spit.

“Anyways,” Loki continues, and the drive suddenly disintegrated in Tony’s hand while reappearing in Loki’s. “I will happily hand over this seemingly important information along with the girl for you to do with her as you please, but…” He pauses. “Only if you stop tracking my current whereabouts.”

“And why would we do that, Loki? You’re dangerous,” Steve notes.

“I was dangerous,” Loki interjects. “I have been a good boy haven’t I? I would like to lead a normal life without you imbeciles tailing my every move. If I slip, Thor here will know within the second if I’m involved with anyone wrong doings, won’t you brother dear?”

Thor grunts at that statement.

“Besides, Stark’s satellite can track any magical energy if I use it. Which I won’t.”

“Fine. Now hand over the drive,” Tony snaps and holds his hand out.

After Loki drops the small gadget into Tony’s hand, he hauls you up and spins you around to face him.

His voice is quiet and low. “Be glad I didn’t tell them about my plans for you friend. It would be a shame if they found out about her abilities...and yours.”

He spins you back around to face the 5 men whose eyes were now raking up and down your body. “Easy on the eyes isn’t she?” Loki mentions, hands falling on your waist making you squirm. “You know, I almost considered keeping her for myself. Her exotic beauty is that of a pleasure maiden on Asgard.” Your struggles are invigorated at his implications. “Enjoy your whore.” And with that, he gives you one final shove before vanishing.

It’s silent for half a minute before one of the men speak up.

“Alright who wants to take her for a spin?” Tony asks, clapping his hands together. “I vote the birthday boy gets first dibs. Huh, Buckaroo?”

You blanch at the idea. Were they really going to go through with what Loki wanted? What happened to the valiant heroes you saw on your screen?

“Wait Tony, you can’t be seriously considering Loki’s suggestion?” Sam Wilson sounds surprised.

Tony shrugs. “Why not, Birdie? It’s either this or high security prison and I don’t think she wants to rot in a cell.”

“She is standing right here and would rather rot in hell than do what Loki had in mind,” you hiss.

“Well it’s a good thing we weren’t asking for her opinion,” Tony says.

“Tony’s right, Sam,” Steve adds slowly. “We bust our asses out there. We deserve something nice.”

“Day after day we save this pathetic world, and no thanks are given. Just everyone saying what we did wrong. We should’ve left the world to fend for itself after they tried shoving those ridiculous accords down our throats,” Thor murmurs

Sam raises both of his hands up in defense. “Fine. Do what you want with her. I’m gonna head out.” And with that he leaves. Your heart sinks, watching the only glimmer of hope, your knight in shining armor, walk out the door. Your self-pity party is cut short by an arm snaking around your waist.

Bucky Barnes, trained assassin, mass murderer, and now current Avenger, puts his face in the crook of your neck and inhales deeply, sending shivers down your spine while you stand frozen like a deer in headlights. “What do you say, doll? Wanna finish what we started the other night?” His hand on your waist slowly drifts down to your ass.

You stomp your heel down on his foot eliciting a groan of pain. “Last time I checked, you were in the dirt, and I was driving away that night after a successful robbery. There’s nothing to finish.”

He moves quickly as he rips your hair out of what’s securing it up, using the opportunity to tangle his hand into the roots and drag you away to a separate room. He wrenches open and throws you in, leaving you to stumble and trip. A searing pain on your forehead signaled that you hit your head.

“How about we use that snarky mouth of yours for something better hmm?” His voice is ice cold with malice as he grips your hair and yanks you up.

You cry out in pain, tears pooling in your eyes.

“Not so tough now, are you?” he sneers down at you. Hearing the sound of a belt unbuckling and pants unzipping, you shut your eyes.

A tear escapes, cascading down your face, but his thumb gently wipes it away.

“Open your eyes, doll,” he coos.

You shake your head and screw them shut even tighter.

“I said...OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES!” he roars and your eyes fly open only to see his member sticking out of his slacks right in front of your face. He’s almost fully hard as precum dribbles out of the tip. “Good girl,” he praises. “Now, since you can’t seem to keep your snarky mouth shut, let’s put it to better use. How bout that?”

You don’t move, and he sighed as you look down to the floor. You hear some shuffling, a small click, and suddenly something cold and sharp is pressing under your chin, tilting your gaze to his steel blue eyes.

“Let’s try this again.” He pushes the knife harder, digging it a little deeper, but not enough to draw blood. A knife. This dirty bastard has a knife. “Suck. My. Cock.”

Pushing all your pride aside, you direct your gaze to the task in front of you. Bucky lets out an approving hum and the knife is removed from your throat. You swallow before opening your mouth and dragging your tongue from his base to the tip before wrapping your lips around him and sucking lightly.

Bucky was no slacker down there, you had to give him that. You ease your mouth down his shaft and his head tilts back.

“Oh fuck that’s it,” he moans. “Take my dick down your throat.” He grunts. His metal hand fists your hair to push your head down, sliding a few more inches into your throat. “Oh-that’s a good whore,” he breathes.

A gag is torn from you and you slap your hands against his thighs to imply you couldn’t take much more. Bucky’s only response is another grunt as he jams the rest of his length down your throat leaving your only intake of oxygen to come from your nose which was now mashed right above the base of his thick cock. As quickly as he pushed you down before, he pulls you back off by your hair, letting you go to wretch, gasping for air and freedom. A strand of saliva still connects from his tip to my lips.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He snags your hair again. “Open wide, slut.”

You do just that and he begins to fuck your throat at his own pace, sliding his entire length down every time. Tears brim at your eyes, not just from the lack of oxygen, but the humiliation of the moment as well. The time passes much too slowly for your liking, minutes dragging on for eternity, before he begins to reach his climax.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” His cock twitches in your mouth.He holds your head with both hands as he releases straight into your mouth, warm thick strands of his release coating the back of your throat. He pulls out  with a pop and smirks down at you. “Good little sluts swallow” he orders.

You glare up at him, making a show of not doing anything.

“Well?” he demands and raises a dark brow.

You spit his own climax onto his expensive shoes.

“Why you-!” He raises his hand, getting ready to send a smack to your face.

“Barnes!” A female voice comes from the doorway as the door flies open. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

There stood none other than the Black Widow.

[l4verq]

boats🎣 | b.b

bucky barnes x reader

in which you’re supposed to be helping repair sam’s old boat but your boyfriend keeps distracting you :(

tags : 18+ minors pls DNI , bucky’s a horn dog and so is reader, sam doesn’t know bucky has his hand right on reader’s 🐱 and reader is TRYING to keep it that way lol, no plot, just a little porn 😼

fic : one shot

stern - the back part of a ship |

gangway - a flat board or metal structure that can be put in place between a ship and land to let people get off or on the ship |

cabin - a private room on a ship for a passenger or one of the people working on the ship |

masterlist

you know he’s not doing it intentionally.

the slight grunts as his vibranium arm effortlessly rips off rusty, rotting pieces of wood hastily hammered over cracks and gaps.

you’re scratching off stringy residue of duct tape slapped on holes in the stern, standing a few feet away from him, taking in the view.

not the one overlooking the wide stretch of blue water.

but the one where your boyfriend’s wiping the sheen of sweat off his face with his shirt and it’s not just any shirt, it’s the light grey one that’s one size too small but fits so right on his sculpted body.

he lets it drop, panting as his eyes trail over to you and smirks.

ok, so maybe he does know what he’s doing.

you go back to vigorously scraping off the grimy, faded string- how does duct tape turn to these stubborn, ugly strings that just refuses to come off?

and to top it all off, sam’s parents - god rest their souls - used the tapes in places you’re having to bend over, stretch your arms down as much as you can and hopefully are actually scraping the residue off.

“i got it.”

you jump a little, startled by his voice.

that sweet, sweet voice that brings you to your knees [literally] everytime.

he’s right behind you - you’ll never get used to his super soldier thing where he can sneak up on literally anyone - his crotch pressed right onto your ass as he bends down as well, arm sneaking down yours.

oh, he definitely knows what he’s doing.

his hand grabs the handle of the metal scraper in your hand, taking it from you.

the boat sways a little, just a little.

shouldn’t make him thrust right on your denim shorts clad ass, making miss kitty down there all flustered.

bucky’s a lot of things and being an insatiably annoying tease is just one of them.

he gets back up, vibranium around your waist pulling you up too, “sarah said she needs help with the pipes.”

you could use some help with piping too, you think.

“oh, okay.” you say breezily before getting out of his way.

getting out of his way as in sliding your ass across his crotch, a small groan leaving his mouth right into your ear.

he’s played this game with you way too many times and always won.

it was time for a new victor.

and so the rest of the day is just relentless teasing, lingering touches, strokes and a lot of “oh silly me, i dropped something. let me just pick it up.” and slowly raising your ass up his legs, feeling his jeans constrict just as you lift it away.

at one point, he’d pressed you against the wall, pinned your wrists above your head, i know what you’re doing.

cue innocent batting of your eyes, with a what?

you were the clear winner, until now.

until now when you’re in the cockpit, on your tippy toes, straining to hold up the glass pane.

“i don’t know how to break it to you that you’re not tall.” sam yells from the other side of the glass, voice all muffled.

you roll your eyes, practically unsticking your sweaty front from the majestic helm that’s been poking your belly for five minutes now. to say your tank top is just drenched in sweat is not an exaggeration.

totally not the hot girl summer aesthetic you were hoping for this year.

“need a hand?” bucky pokes his head in from the door, eyebrow quirked.

how does he get to look that good all sweaty and grubby?

“yeah, sam’s screaming at me cause i’m short.” you pull your lip, turning to face him.

he chuckles, lowering his head at the doorway and enters the cabin which suddenly looks even smaller because of his towering presence.

“i’ll lift you up, c’mon.” he extends his arms, the slightest smirk tugging at his lips, a playful glint in his eyes.

you turn around warily as he hops around the heap of boxes, screws, wrenches, crocks cluttered around the floor and he’s right behind you, hands tinkering around your waist.

but he slides his right palm right between your legs, other hand on your.... fuck, does it matter?

the only thing on your mind right now is him hiking you up, palm basically cupping your denim clad pussy.

you shakily hold up the glass while sam begins applying window sealant from the other side, completely oblivious to your boyfriend groping you.

his cool, metal arm rests under your thigh, a stark contrast to the burning ache between your legs.

“such a tight spot here.” he comments, palm squeezing slightly and it takes everything in you to stifle a moan.

he was crammed up against the helm, legs bumping into empty jars and canisters. you can only hope sam thought he meant that.

and it’s just torture, the next three minutes perched under his palm, desperate for some friction, to just rub it out all the while maintaining a poker face right at sam in front of you.

not helping that he’s having a casual conversation with sam, knowing full well that you’re absolutely just falling apart under his touch right now.

and the waves, the stupid waves that rock the boat so now bucky has to ‘adjust’ you, bouncing you up on his palm, squeezing your thigh with his other hand.

“sam!” a distant voice calls out.

you silently thank the lord for answering to your prayer.

“i’m working!” sam yells back, eyebrows furrowed, applying a line of translucent paste on the lower frame.

“SAM!”

sam huffs, screwing the cap on the tube of sealant back on, “i’ll be back. you can let go now.”

your sore arms cry out in pain as you retract them back, shaky legs because of a certain blue eyed 106 year old whose hand is shoved between them.

“i got you.”

bucky easily bounces you around, gripping your waist, your legs wrapping around his torso.

“you good?”

his right hand rests on your lower back to support you, eyes raking over your arms.

bucky’s a lot of things and being a caring, doting absolute annoyance of a boyfriend might just be the best one.

you just wait for the familiar creak and slight tilt of the boat confirming sam’s waddled across the gangway before crashing your lips into bucky’s, nearly tipping him over.

it’s almost animalistic, his lips part, letting your tongue slip in and delve in his taste that’s just so.. bucky.

it’s sweet, minty, tangy and you’d figure out the rest if only you both didn’t have to pull away, gasping for air.

“you’re so annoying.” you breathe out, panting right into his mouth.

jars tip over like dominoes as he backs you to the wall, shielded from the many windows but if someone so much as just craned their neck a little to look in, they’d have a front row seat to your snog fest.

“you know what these shorts do to me.”

his vibranium arm snakes around your waist, locking in, making that mechanical sound that’s just so sexy to you for some reason.

the evening sun is a little more merciful than the blistering beams of the morning but crammed up in that tiny area, sweaty bodies clinging to each other, you might just have a heatstroke.

if you didn’t pass out from the throbbing down there first.

“i need you to keep that pretty mouth shut, can you do that for me?” he cooes, forehead resting on yours, fingers reaching down to rub back and forth between your shorts.

you nod feverishly, unable to form words, hands grasping at the wall behind, his biceps, his back, everywhere, the long awaited friction sending sparks up your body.

“can’t let nobody hear us, now can we?” his lips trail to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, a dull pain overpowered by pleasure coursing through out.

your hand tugs at his hair, soliciting a low moan from him.

“teasing me with your ass all out in these shorts,” he drawls, “such a bad girl.”

you’re hyperaware of the wide open cabin door and how someone could just walk right in, those two kids are always running around ever- fuck, the kids.

god, you’d never be able to face sam’s family ever again.

but it’s somehow the least of your worries when he lifts his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them with soft groans.

and he shoves them in the front of your shorts, “so tight,” he growls, hand barely fitting in.

you gasp as his finger finally make contact, run up and down your sopping slits.

“hmm, always so wet for me.” he groans, sloppy kisses down your neck, along your collarbone.

you whimper as he teases two fingers at the entrance, making you jolt when his thumb starts circling your swollen nub, the bundle of nerves coming undone.

his name’s a strangled, wanton noise deep from your chest but he gets the message.

that you need him to put a baby in you... y’know something along the lines of that.

but like aforementioned, he’s a tease.

so his fingers slowly push in, only the tips greeted by your walls.

“just as tight as i remember.”

back arching when he finally slips them all the way in, palm slightly tapping against your clit and you’re certain you see stars.

and he does the thing where his fingers hook, curl, twist, your legs squirming, his name falling out of your mouth like a chant.

your legs buckle, his fingers moving at an ungodly pace and the only thing holding you up right now is his iron grip round your waist as you shakily find your footing on the floor.

“fuck, you’re clenching so hard, baby.” he rasps, your head lulling into his neck, legs jerking against your own control.

you’re almost there. the familiar tightening of the twisted spring in your lower abdomen, toes curling against the rough surface of your slippers, almost..

creak.

-

a/n : 🤔🤨😳💤🏃🏻‍♀️💨 dk how i feel about this one bestie💭

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

The Coal Shed - Teddy

A thing! A thing I like! Huzzah!

[Teddy's Masterlist]

CW: Captivity, parental whumper, failed escape attempt, pushed down the stairs, duct tape restraints, isolation

Teddy stood behind the haphazard stack, breathing shallowly. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he wasn’t going to stay in this attic a single moment more. He was going home, back to school, back to his life. He had scoured the attic, gathering the heaviest things he could find - mostly just boxes of books and a TV as thick as the mini fridge. The pile was next to the trapdoor, primed to be pushed over onto the creep as soon as he came up.

There was creaking from below him and Teddy nearly stopped breathing. His palms were sweaty against the plastic, poised and ready to push and then run. He had no clue where he was, how he would get home, but everything would work out if he could just get out of the house.

The trapdoor opened and Teddy shoved the tower of junk as hard as he could at the figure. When the man cried out and fell backwards, the boy saw his opportunity. He dashed past him, catching himself on his hands and knees. He barely had time to look back, no time to look around as he scrambled to his feet and ran for his life.

He clambered down the hall, ramming into the wall and knocking a picture frame off. Didn’t look down, didn’t have time - the man was cursing up a storm behind him. Following him.

“Help!” Teddy screamed, sneakers squeaking on the parquet wood floors. He saw the glossy wooden banister of the stairs and his heart leapt.

From the landing, he could see the front door. It was right there.

Just as he reached the top of the stairs, hands landed on his shoulders and pushed. Before he could grab onto the railing, before he could even imagine catching his balance, he fell forward.

The ledges of the stairs slammed into his sides and arms, knocking the breath out of him and surely leaving long, straight bruises. At the bottom, he coughed and groaned, head still spinning from the tumble. His glasses were gone somewhere, making the world blurry and unfocused. Even then, Teddy could see the door in front of him. There was frosted glass on either side, bright light streaming through and the moving shadows of bushes and landscaping only barely visible.

He got up onto his elbows before a shoe planted in his back and pinned him to the ground. Teddy cried out weakly, but the man simply pressed the air out of his lungs.

“You little shit!” the man shouted, lifting his boot to stomp down on the boy’s back. Teddy cried out, feeling one of his ribs snap. Tears dripped down his cheeks onto the tile as his fingers searched for traction. He wheezed and coughed, breathing now feeling utterly impossible.

“You are going to learn your place,” the man growled, finally taking the weight off his back and lifting him by his shirt collar. Teddy whimpered, struggling to find his footing.

“P-pleas,e, ple-ease” he tried, one arm curled around his ribs and the other over the man’s hand. He was being dragged back through the house, farther and farther from the door. Farther from freedom, from home, from everything. He choked on a sob, only being shoved forward when he tried to pull away.

The man didn’t speak to him again, instead flinging the garage door open and throwing Teddy bodily to the ground. He curled up on the cold concrete, beginning to sob in earnest. He could hear his captor grumble and curse as he collected something, but he couldn’t pay attention to what.

There was the screech of duct tape being unwound, then the man’s hand roughly grabbing his hair. Teddy looked up at him blearily, breath hitching as he cried. “Pl-”

Emotionlessly, the man pressed the tape over Teddy’s mouth and circled it around his head once before he ripped it off. Teddy’s shoulders shook as he cried, eyes growing wide with panic. His muffled cries were ignored, instead the back of his neck pushed forward until he was nearly folded in half. The position was agony on his ribs, one in particular sharp with pain.

More tape secured his wrists to his ankles, then the ankles together. He was now an awkward shape to pick up, but that made the man’s brute strength simply all the scarier. Teddy wished desperately for his glasses, at least so he could know where he was going.

The man kicked open another door, a smaller one, leading into a small, dark room. He dropped the boy carelessly, shoving him farther into the shed with his foot. Teddy looked up at him to try and beg with his eyes, but the door was slammed in his face.

More tears dripped down his face as he laid his head on his knees.

~

It was cold in the shed. Cold, dark, uncomfortable. Thick, black coal dust floated around his head, finding its way into this nose, his eyes. It would tickle and build up, but without the use of his hands all Teddy had to rely on was his knees to try and wipe the horrible feeling away.

His rib hurt. Lines of bruises on his arms and legs hurt. His chest hurt.

~

Eventually he was able to pull himself upright, even shoot closer to the door. With a shiver, Teddy leaned his head against the side of the shed and whimpered. He doubted anyone would be able to hear him, but he could try. He somehow fell asleep like that.

~

Teddy thought things would be better when he woke up. He’d be home in his room, all of this a terrible dream. Or even still just back in that attic, trapped and kept but at least able to stretch out his legs. Able to get some water or a little food.

In some ways, the darkness was kind like that. He could imagine - ignoring the dust and cold of course - that he was home. That things weren’t so bleak. That he’d be found.

He felt like he could taste the coal in his mouth by now.

~

He woke and slept and cried and wriggled in his bonds all he could, but nothing changed there in the dark. He curled on his side until he was numb, tried to work the tape off his mouth. Useless useless useless.

When the door did finally open, all Teddy could do was whimper shakily. He had leaned up against the wall at one point, and could no longer find the strength to change his position. The man’s shape was a dark figure only barely lit by the low light outside.

The first thing Teddy noticed was that his hand was warm as it cut away the tape.

Bernard sighed, picking the limp boy up in his arms. He better be more well behaved by now - this had not been how Bernard had hoped to spend his weekend. Regardless, the attic was freshly combed through and cleaned, a new chain installed to keep him secure until he could be trusted more.

He was filthy, soot covering his entire body and Bernard’s clothes by proxy. Not wanting to dirty his bathroom, he used the hose outside to get most of the dust off. While it wasn’t his main intent, seeing the boy shiver so violently from the cold was satisfying. He deserved it.

“Shh, shh,” he cooed, coiling the garden hose away and wrapping a beach towel around the boy’s shoulders. “All done. You’re all done now, son. Let’s get you inside and nice and warm, hmm? I might even put on the game for you while you warm up.”

He sat the boy up at the table and closed the door, confident he wouldn’t be going anywhere in this state. When he turned back, he chuckled at how the young man had slumped down onto the table.

“Hey now, no need for that,” he chided, propping him back up. “You know you’ll feel better when you warm up.”

Teddy’s head lulled to face him, soft brown eyes dull with confusion and hurt. Bernard smiled and stroked his hair, not worrying how they’d get the duct tape out later.

“You know I don’t like to do this to you, Slugger, but you have to obey. Remember that, and things will be much easier.” He ruffled the young man’s wet hair and stood, checking his watch. He needed to get to sleep if he was going to make his meeting tomorrow morning.

Just as easily as before, he carried the boy out of the kitchen and back up to the attic. He was still a bit damp, but Bernard laid him down on the cot anyway. The boy’s eyes were closed almost immediately, drifting softly to sleep.

He reached over to the shackle he had installed earlier and secured it around the sleeping boy’s ankle. He wouldn’t be going anywhere.

~

@whump-me-all-night-long @starnight-whump @highwaywhump @panic-and-chaos @as-a-matter-of-whump @cowboy-anon @just-a-raccoon-in-a-dapper-hat @milk-carton-whump @whump-it @abitefullofwhump @insanitywishes @mylifeofcalculatedchaos

[ashintheairlikesnow]

"I don't fucking need you. I don't fucking need anyone."

(ideally said to reinforce an angry, apathetic façade)

CW: Panicked whumpee, trauma response, discussion of stabbing/murder, defiant/angry whumpee, referenced prostitution/dubcon, brief internal dehumanization reference

Jake Gets Stabbed: First Second Third Fourth

Also includes @nonsensicalwhump’s prompt ‘don’t fucking touch me’

There was an old backpack already in the closet when he moved into this place. It was worn around the edges, with safety pins all along the top because the zipper had long since broken, an olive green that might have been brighter, once upon a time. The bottom’s duct-taped in layers to hold it together. There are more safety pins holding seams together along the side, another strip of tape where there’s smeared permanent marker, too destroyed for Jameson to even read it.

The backpack looks like Jameson feels, wrecked and ruined and trying valiantly to stay together at the seams, only to come apart anyway.

He stuffs a package of goldfish crackers into the backpack on top of the three pairs of boxers and two shirts and one pair of pants he’s already put inside. Then he adds the bit of beef jerky he keeps up on the top shelf in the closet, where he has to climb onto a box to even reach it. 

His heart hammers in his chest, and when Allyn’s fingertips brush along his shoulder blades through his shirt he jerks away from them, shoving some granola bars in, too. “Don’t fucking touch me!” He snaps, but all he wants is to collapse back into their arms, let them tell him it’ll be okay again, and believe it.

But he can’t believe it.

Their rainshower voice is a lie, the taste of ozone and the relieved wash of cool water is a lie, it’s all a fucking lie and it always fucking was.

“Jameson, no one is asking you to leave,” They say, voice low and soothing, their hands out but not quite touching him now. He glances over his shoulder at those long, long fingers, graceful elegant hands made for gesturing at the parties they tell him about. Fingers entirely unlike his own, the pinky that won’t quite close all the way anymore, the scars layered over them from every time they were hit until they bled, until he begged for more.

“No one has to,” Jameson says, staring down at the empty space in the top of the backpack. Does he own so little? Does he even own any of this? He can’t take the carvings in the closet wall, and that’s most of what he even wants to take. His proof to himself that he was a person, however briefly, before he goes back out to lose it all over again. “I killed m-my fucking-... the person who believed I c-c-ould be better, I killed him-”

“He’s not dead,” They say softly, and their hair hangs over their face. It’s all mussed and frizzy, and he thinks they look even prettier and more handsome somehow, like they’ve rolled out of bed, even though he knows it’s because they’re worried, too worried to pull it back, too worried to care. “I, I heard them call a doctor. Someone’s going to sew it up and he’ll b-be-”

“He’ll bleed to fucking death because of me,” Jameson says, and the weight of it hits him now. He sits down on his bed but it’s more like he falls into it. It’s not his bed anymore, anyway. It’ll be some other rescue’s, someone more deserving than he’s ever been of regaining humanity.

Some other rescue will arrive and lay down here across from Allyn and maybe watch the moonlight move over their face while they look outside and think that no one in the world has ever been as lovely in silvery light as them, and Jameson will be out on the street fucking for cash or food or for ten minutes of safety from himself.

Unless he kills them.

He might.

He might do that, if he-... if he sees Robert in their faces, or Brute, or if he gets lost in himself again he could keep killing people and then he’s not any different, and it wasn’t just to escape and it wasn’t worth it, and from the second he walked away from Nanda’s house he was just going to turn into a killer, wasn’t he? And now he is one.

Now he’s-

Jameson leans over himself, pressing his forehead to his knees, feeling all the scars along his back stretch uncomfortably as he moves. He takes in slow, even breaths, fighting the despair that overwhelms him, buries, drowns him in what he’s done.

He’s just a hand, reaching out, but he’d thought he was reaching out for help. Instead he was holding a knife.

“I won’t let them kick you out,” Allyn says softly, but insistently, dropping to a crouch in front of him. Their hands still hover, wanting so badly to touch him, respecting that he doesn’t want them to. He can feel the warmth of them even so. Their hands are so close. “I promise. I’ll, I’ll convince them somehow to let you stay. We can figure this out, Jameson, you don’t have to be all by yourself.”

“It’s fine, I d-did it before, I can do it again. It’s fine.” Jameson talks into the fabric of his jeans, lets it muffle the emotion and flatten his words. His shoulders shake with a sob he catches before it ever leaves his throat. 

“Jameson, you know we don’t do well alone, you need-”

“I don’t fucking need anyone!” His head jerks up, meeting their gray eyes with his own dark brown. He can feel air move against his skin and realizes with some dull surprise he’s crying again. “I don’t-... I don’t fucking need a keeper, I don’t need... I don’t n-need anybody, I don’t need y-y... I don’t-”

He can’t tell that lie.

“Please don’t leave,” Allyn says, and their hands come to rest gently on either side of his face now, cool dry palms against his flushed damp skin. “Jameson. Please don’t leave me.”

“I tried to kill the first person to help me,” Jameson whispers. “The first person who didn’t ask for anything back. I tried to kill him.”

Allyn shakes their head. “You tried to kill R-... Robert, whoever that was. You tried to kill someone who hurt you. You didn’t know. If you leave, I-I’ll go with you, I can... I can go with you.”

“No you can’t. You don’t know how t-to handle shit out there, Allyn, it’d-...” He looks over their faces, the tears in their eyes, tears he caused, it’s his fault they want to cry. It’s his fault everyone in this house wants to cry, now, it’s his fault they bleed in every possible way. It’s his fault, for thinking he was ever more than just another rabid dog. 

“I’ll go anyway,” Allyn says, fiercely. Their voice pours on his tongue, it’s the taste of a raging rush of river, a flood in the middle of the night, washing out the dry earth. “I’ll go with you anyway, we’ll figure it out, Jameson, you and I. I won’t lose anyone else-... I won’t lose you.”

Jameson hitches in a breath that burns all the way down to his lungs, and his own hands rise, slowly, to rest over theirs. “But... it could happen again, Allyn. What if-... what if it happens again?”

“What if it does? So what? It’ll just be us, we can just run, we can do it.” Allyn just looks at him, with those tears starting to well up and run down their cheeks like the water he tastes when they speak.

He licks at his lips, forcing the words out with every ounce of strength he has left. “What if... what if n-next time it’s you?”

Allyn opens their mouth to respond only for there to be a soft rap at the doorframe, both of them turning to look. 

Jake’s boyfriend, the one who used to be like them, stands there. His wide blue eyes are nearly red from crying, and his face is as flushed as Jameson’s. To Jameson, his eyes seem cold and glittering, shattered glass. 

His voice tastes like pears when he speaks, and Jameson shudders wondering if there’s a needle slipped into the soft skin of the fruit. 

“Jameson?”

The two of them don’t move, except that Jameson curls his scarred, rough fingers over Allyn’s smooth hands and holds on as they drift down. He only looks at Kauri and says, his hoarse voice still thick with his own dread and guilt and fear, “Yeah?”

Kauri rakes a hand back through half-controlled black curls and takes a breath. “He’s all sewn up, and there’s some... someone Nat knows downstairs now, with Dr. Masood. They think-... I don’t know. Probably not going to, uh, to d-die.”

Jameson nods, his grip tightening on Allyn’s fingers, but the other rescue doesn’t pull away or flinch, only holds right back, just as tightly. “That’s-... good. Kauri, I, I didn’t know-”

“Yeah, I get it.” Kauri’s voice sharpens, and Jameson closes his eyes. Pear and razor blades, blood on his tongue, not like Nanda. This blood doesn’t taste like pleasure but guilt and regret. “I know-... I get it. Chris more... more or less explained it to me. But we need to talk.”

Allyn squares their shoulders, jaw settling. “It’s not his fault. You can’t blame him, he didn’t know-”

“I need to talk,” Kauri says with effort, “to Jameson.” His eyes go to the backpack packed on the bed, not yet closed up, the symbol of Jameson’s intent to run. Something changes in his expression, but Jameson can’t read it. “I need to talk to Jameson alone.”

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @moose-teeth @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @newandfiguringitout @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary @endless-whump @burtlederp

[blackberry-bloody]

so I haven't done much original whump in quite a while, but I really felt the need to fill my own prompt (even though technically this turned into waaaaaaay more than I intended, and the tail whump is kind of an after though in this it seems.), and I really wanted to introduce my boi Dayzel officially. So Here's two birds with one stone.

@darkwarfy, @icyheart-and-friends, @seagullsausage

Contains: creepy whumper, retrained whumpee, non human/demon whumpee, angel/non-human whumper, implied prior whump, torture, choking, broken bones, loss of limbs (not graphic/ not described), humiliation (if you squint, so just in case), stress position, snarky whumpee that doesn't know how to shut up, whumpee reaching their breaking point

Dayzel's breathing came wheezy and strained from where he was unhappily seated. The ropes pinning his wrists to each if the chair's arms were starting to cut bloody red lines from his tugging, and his vision was just a little hazy from the repeated blunt force injuries to his head. Still… He looked up at the man glowering over him, a smug grin plastered quite firmly from ear to ear. He was Dayzel Infernos, and he was not about to be bested by some punk angel trying to get all high and mighty on his ass. "Look, chicken wing-" a resounding slap echoed in the room as his head snapped to the side. He clenched his jaw and slowly turned his head back to glare at the very narrowed purple eyes that had gotten much closer. "Oh wow, don't like nicknames huh? I'll keep it noted." His voice was practically dripping with a toxic mixture of venom and sarcasm as he chuckled in the man's face and spit a globule of blood at him.

The look of disgust on his face made his smirk that much more smug as he leaned forward as much as he could with his wings tied to the back of the chair. Just needing enough to close the gap. He was not impressed. "Hey bird brain, I don't know what you, or your buddies that dragged me here are thinking you're doing, but whatever it is… It's pretty fucking pathetic." His tail twitched from it's position around his leg, swaying from side to side like a snake judging the creature before it. "You're not the first person to try and "teach the evil demon a lesson", hell you're not even the first angel. I've had humans do worse than you. All you've done is smack me around a bit and glare at me." A slightly manic giggle escaped, but soon turned into a coughing fit as he had to pull back to catch his breath and relieve tension on his wings. Once he opened his eyes again, he noticed the angel's expression had changed from one of anger and disgust, to something more unreadable…

Dayzel paid the change no mind however, and continued with his taunting."I've been here many times before and not a single person… Human, angel, or otherwise has yet to make me break. None of you have any creativity. You're all so dull."

"Is that so?" The man before him finally spoke. His voice was deep and commanding, but also incredibly soft. But in the otherwise quiet room… It was practically booming.

Dayzel's eyes snapped up once more and processed the moment, his grin faltering for only a split second, and only due to the surprise. "Ah, so he can speak. Wonderful. I was starting to get tired of my own voice. Oh wait, no, that's impossible." He laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls and making them echo. However, he was abruptly cut off as a hand shot out and grabbed one of his horns. It didn't hurt, but it was just jarring enough to make him wince. He let out a low growl and tried to tug it out of the angel's grip. Only for the man to laugh in return, and guide Dayzel's head into an uncomfortable position looking straight up at the ceiling. "For the record. Yes. It is so. And of all the times I've been caught, this doesn't even make the top ten." He bit out. He tried to jerk his head again to make eye contact… But his head was held firmly in place.

"I see. Then perhaps it's time I showed you some of my… Creativity… Hm?" Delicate and utterly cold fingers found their way to Dayzel's fully exposed neck, and ever so gently wrapped around the skin… Before the grip became crushing hard, cutting off his airflow entirely.

Dayzel gasped and, although he tried his best to hide it… He did start to panic… As he tugged on the ropes trying to reach up and claw his hands off him. Or even shift his head so he could bite him. But neither were really options, so he was just left to slowly choke on nothingness until his vision went black.

~~~ Eventually, and ever so slowly, Dayzel could feel himself being pulled from the black void of unconsciousness. The first thing he noticed was that he was no longer seated in an uncomfortable chair, but instead was laying face down on an uncomfortable floor. The second thing he discovered was that he was indeed still restrained, despite the new position… His arms twitched behind him to try and push himself up, but was only met with stiff and sticky resistance of boring duct tape around his wrists. He had yet to open his eyes, but he still rolled them behind his eyelids. “I thought you were going to show me creative, not cliche, pigeon,” he growled out, despite the somewhat still smug tone in his voice. “Oh, don’t worry your fake red haired head, I’m getting to it. Try not to pass out before I can, ok?” The same voice as before spoke somewhere directly above him. Monotone, flat, and utterly condescending.

Dayzel’s eyes finally snapped open and he tilted his head to try and see where the angel was, “What the fuck is that-?!” He was abruptly cut off as a boot was placed securely at the base of where his wings met and weight was steadily applied. “Oh” was the only thing he could wheeze out as he struggled to take in air with his rib cage being crushed. He attempted to seem nonchalant as he felt the angel shift his weight behind him… But that was quickly thrown out the wind as he felt soft hands carefully take hold of his tail, lifting it up to get a better look. Immediately Dayzel started thrashing under him, letting out curses and threats that could put a trucker to shame.

"Oh hush, no need to get so worked up yet." Was the only reply given. Well, the only verbal reply… The twist and added pressure on the tender muscle between his wings were his other reply all it's own. The motion itself was enough to stun Dayzel beneath him, reeling from the pain. The angel, of course, took advantage of this moment and swiftly tied a cord around the man's tail before releasing him. "See? Now, up you come."

Delicate hands corded through Dayzel's blood matted hair and yanked, startling Dayzel from his daze, guiding him to be standing upright.

Dayzel gasped and heaved for breath as he stood up, wobbling ever so slightly as he did so. Although, he'd deny it with the same vigor and venom as he would anything else that might bruise his ego. His eyes were ablaze with fury. "What the actual fuck is wrong with you?! As soon as I can, I promise I'm going to pluck you like a chicken!"

The angel's expression remained neutral as his hand made its way up to wipe the spit off his face. "Yes… I'm quite certain you'd like to. But do please remember you brought this upon yourself sweetheart." There was no warmth, nor malice for that matter as he reached up and patted Dayzel's cheek. "Don't worry, though, I'm almost ready to leave you alone."

"Don't you dare touch me like that!" Was all he could manage to growl as he snapped his face to the side and bit down hard on the man's hand. However, instead of pulling away, or even acknowledging the red lifeblood dripping down his hand… The angel simply tsked and gave Dayzel a look of… What he could only describe as disappointment… Which was enough to startle Dayzel enough to let go.

The angel's uninjured hand shot out so fast he actually flinched as his horn was once again grabbed and his head tilted back. The angel carefully and slowly maneuvered behind him once again, and as he was still held in place, Dayzel had no idea what he was doing. "Such a shame. Your wings are actually quite beautiful you know? I was hoping to merely pin them for this… But seeing as how you want to resort to such. Brutality. I shall return the favor in kind. They should make a nice mantle piece."

Dayzel felt his stomach drop. All tough guy act and threats thrown away as fear took over his face. Actual, genuine, raw fear… "Wait, please don't-!" But he didn't even get the finish as the angel gripped tightly at the base of his wing and twisted and wrenched until the limb fell to the floor. And before he could so much as gather his thoughts… He immediately started on Dayzel's other wing, doing the exact same. That too fell with a soft thud to the floor. Dayzel never cried… And that much held up… No, through his screams, instead he was sobbing. And once his horn was released from it's crushing grip, he too fell to the floor in a heap of himself.

"See? Now we're getting somewhere. Lesson one. Fighting only ends in pain." The shifting of the voice told Dayzel that the man was once again in front of him. He didn't respond. "If you don't acknowledge me, I'll cut off your horns next."

"Fuck you." Dayzel lifted his head ever so slightly to get a look at him… Splattered with his blood across his white uniform…

The man crouched down to be closer in view. "Ah, out of threats I see. That's good. That's progress. There may be hope for you yet." He reached down and delicately pet the tufts of Dayzel's hair and the fuzz of the back of his neck. And Dayzel hated himself for being grateful for the gentle touch as opposed to pain. He merely clenched his jaw. "Unfortunately for you, lesson number two is that hope is meaningless." His hand withdraws and he stands back up to his full height, before fishing around in his pocket for something. Once found, he pulls out a tiny two button remote, one up arrow and one down arrow. He presses the up arrow.

Confused, Dayzel looked up as he heard some sort of mechanical noise, like a motor. And that's when he noticed the cord going up, that was attached to his tail… Which was seemingly being lifted by said motor.

Again, panic rushed through him as he scrambled to stand up and tried to reach the cord just below the tip of his tail… But he was still far too dazed and in pain to grab hold and undo the knot, let alone with his hands tied. He watched as the angel started walking towards the door out of the room, meanwhile his feet finally couldn't touch the ground and he lurched forward with a hiss of pain. The motor stopped, leaving the wingless demon dangling from the cord and the tip of his tail. When he looked back… The angel was gone, leaving him to his own misery. "FUCK YOU!!!" He screamed again, this time raw and full of hate, so loud that it left him once again panting for air.

~~~

It started as a sharp pain, every muscle and joint screaming at him to get down. To ease the pressure. To stop what was happening. And it lasted like that for the first little while as he struggled against the tape and spun in the air. He even tried being upside down and climbing backwards up his own tail to reach the cord. It didn't work of course, but he was desperate enough to try.

Eventually, he figured he'd try staying as still as possible to reduce the sudden jerks on his tail. But then he got lightheaded, or his legs fell asleep and he inevitably had to shift again, sparking the pain once more…

However, after a while… The pain became duller, and more muted. Still very much there and ever persistent. But his tail was slowly losing its ability to hold him up.

Finally he lost the ability to move his tail at all. It had gone a tingling sort of numb and lifeless…

He slumped, folded in half, and without the strength to hold himself facing parallel to the ground. He didn't know how long it had been, nor did he know how much longer it would be… But for the first time, he felt completely helpless.

[fiveisnumber1]

Timeless - Five Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 3850

Warnings: Mild Violence

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

_________________________

Pt 8 - Birthday Cash (part 1)

Sunlight shined through your curtains as the sounds of the city outside you started to wake you. Slowly you sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. When your eyes came into focus you took a look at the calendar you hung beside your bed. The date of it read October 1st, 2002. Today was your birthday. Shooting up from your bed you ran down the stairs of your home into the living room. Standing there were your two parents.

"Happy birthday!" Your parents exclaim

You looked around the room to see balloons and decorations everywhere. Every year, your parents went all out for your birthday. To both of them, your existence was a miracle and they wanted to show how grateful they were to have you. Even when you were small and they knew you wouldn't remember what they had done for your birthday they still went all out. You were their little princess and all they wanted to do was make your day the best it could be. As you looked around the room you saw decorations from wall to wall. There were streamers and balloons as far as the eye could see. You made your way over to your parents who both gave you a big hug. 

"Alright sweetie you sit tight right here and your father and I will be right back!"

Taking a seat on your living room couch you sit and wait for your parents. When they come back into the room you see your mom carrying a cake and your father carrying a box. Your mom places the cake on the living room table and takes a seat to your left side while your dad sits to your right. The two of them sing happy birthday to you and when you have your wish in mind you blow the candles out in one go.

"What did you wish for?" Your dad asks you

"Honey, you know wishes don't come true if you talk about them." Your mom says

"Oh fine, I won't pry." your dad responds "Anyway I've got one of many gifts for you right here. Do you want to open it?"

"Of course!" You reply excitedly

Your dad places the box in your lap and you gently undo the ribbon tied around it. Opening the box you remove the tissue paper and see the gift inside.

"No way! It's exactly what I wanted!" You exclaim

Inside the box was a replica of the diary for The Princess Diaries. The movie came out a little over a year ago and since then you were obsessed. You wanted the diary from that movie specifically because you loved how it needed a locket that fit it perfectly to open it up. 

"Well, you had been talking about the journal ever since you saw the movie. It took a while but we had it custom made for you. It's practically an exact replica except we had it so yours could fit more pages." Your mom explains

"Do you like it?" Your dad asks

"I LOVE IT!" You reply "But where is the locket?"

"Lift up the diary." You mom says

When you lifted the book up you saw not one but two lockets. 

"Why are there two?" You ask

"Well, we wanted to make sure that if you lost the first one you could have a second one handy." Your dad responds

"Keep the second one in a safe place." Your mom says

"I will!" You reply

You knew exactly where you were going to keep the second locket but for now, you spent some time with your family eating cake for breakfast and taking in all the time that your parents had spent to make your day special. When the three of you finished your cake your dad states,

"Your mom and I have one more surprise for you but we need to go to the bank to get it. Go get ready so we can head out." 

Excitedly you run upstairs and get ready. When you finish you eagerly wait for your parents downstairs. Once all of you have everything you need to go, you head out the door and off to the Capital West Bank.

__________________________

Today was October 1st, 2002 but in the Hargreeves household, this day was just like any other. Reginald Hargreeves cared little for birthdays or the acknowledgment that his children were another year older. Like for past birthdays, he merely congratulated them on not passing yet and went on with his day. Unlike Reginald, Grace was much more sympathetic and caring towards the kids and tried to make sure that they all felt special on their birthday. When the children came down from their rooms for breakfast she made sure that each one of them got their favorite thing to eat. She also wished each individual child Happy Birthday as she handed them their plates. This was the routine that occurred every October 1st since they could remember, but this year it would be a little different because the kids knew that later today they would get to celebrate with you. While they kept quiet when their father was at the table, the minute he left the chattering of excitement amongst the six siblings was unstoppable. Each one of them presented their ideas for what they wanted to do for a fun birthday. Diego suggested,

"We should play pin the tail on the donkey but instead it's balloons and we have to pop them with knives!"

"Diego, you would win that one automatically." Allison comments

"And? I want to be a winner on my birthday." He replies with a wide grin

"Well, I want to have a dance party for our birthday!" Allison says

"Oooh, I can get on board with that." Klaus comments

"I want to duet playing happy birthday with (Y/N)." Vanya comments

"And I think it would be fun if we just sit around and talk," Ben says

"Maybe if we're lucky she'll bring over presents and we'll actually get stuff this year!" Luther adds

"What do you want to do for our birthday, Five?" Vanya asks turning the attention to him

"I bet he wants to kiss (Y/N)." Diego interjects making kissy faces at Five "Mwah mwah mwah oh (Y/N) I love you so much!"

"Shut up." Five says looking away from his siblings, heat rising to his face

"You're not denying it." Luther teases

Luther and Diego start to tease their brother more and Klaus starts to sing,

"Five and (Y/N) sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G! Fi-"

"Ugh! Leave me alone!" Five says grabbing his breakfast and getting up from the table

Five then flashes away to his room. His siblings were so annoying no matter what day it was. Ever since he had accidentally told them about a month ago that he loved you, they relentlessly teased him about it. Well, Diego, Luther, and Klaus did with Allison chiming in here and there. Ben and Vanya were more so supportive and stayed out of his business, which he appreciated. Nevertheless, it was difficult to deal with their incessant teasing. Yes, he loved you and yes, he's thought about kissing you but he couldn't find the courage to go through with it. You were his best friend, his only friend and he didn't want to lose you because he felt a certain way and you didn't. It was a risk he just wasn't willing to take because he couldn't be sure how you felt for him. Five sat down on his bed and angrily munched on his birthday breakfast hoping that soon enough something would happen to make the day more exciting.

__________________________

When you and your family arrived at the Capital West Bank you took a look around. It was very nice looking with high ceilings and a balcony upstairs that worked its way around the main room. Your father approached the counter and you followed. You ignored the conversation your father and the clerk were having and continued to look around. You saw many different people in the bank, some standing around, some going and then some coming in. As you watched a group of men walk in the door you grew suspicious. In your gut, you felt something shifty about them. Cautiously you watched them out of your peripheral to see what they were up to but to not be obvious about it. A bank teller then steps out from behind the counter and walks you over to a set of stairs directing you and your family up them. Bringing you to a back room the teller uses a key to unlock the door. In the room, you see wall to wall safes. Each one looking just as heavily secured as the next. Your father takes a step towards one of them and entered a passcode. When the safe opens in there is an exact replica of Princess Mia's tiara. Your father gently grabs it from the safe and places it on your head.

"A perfect princess tiara for our perfect birthday princess." Your mom comments

As you relish in the sweet moment with your parents you all hear some commotion from downstairs. Your family and the teller head out of the room and watch from the upstairs balcony as chaos breaks loose downstairs. You can hear the screams of other people in the main lobby as the men who you had a bad feeling about pull out some guns and start threatening people. The banker pulls you and your family back into the back room. Quickly your dad takes the tiara off your head and puts it back in the safe before closing it swiftly. The banker that brought you upstairs calls 911 and details the situation going on, but before he can finish talking to the 911 operator a couple of members of the who were in charge of this robbery shoot him. The criminals, uncaring of what they had just done to an innocent life proceeded to make their way over to you and your parents. Your parents get in front of you to put space between you and the criminals but it is useless because they end up forcing you three down on the ground and put duct tape around your wrists. As you're on the ground you give your mother a pleading look but she shakes her head no. You knew that you could use your powers to get you and your family out of this but your mom didn't want you to in fear of people taking you to do experiments. You let out a sigh as the robbers sit the three of you up. One of them sends the others outside to guard the room before turning to your father to interrogate him.

"Now tell me where this tiara is." The criminal commands

This is not how you expected your birthday to go.

__________________________

For the Hargreeves kids, their birthday was going the same as always, which is to say not much excitement was going on. They all separated and started to do their own things but their activities were interrupted when Reginald yelled,

"Children come down to the parlor immediately!" 

All the children made their way down to the parlor as quickly as they could. Standing in an orderly line from 1 to 7 the children look to their father to hear what he has to say.

"You have been training to use your powers for years and now you have been presented the opportunity to go and demonstrate them to the world. The Capital West Bank is under siege by a group of robbers and the patrons inside have been taken as hostages. There has been a standoff with police for about two and a half hours at this point and I intend for you children to finish it. Get out of your pajamas and get in your uniforms, we leave in 10 minutes sharp."

The children run off to their rooms and rush to get ready for their first-ever mission. This was not quite the excitement they were looking for but nonetheless, it was better than nothing. Within 10 minutes' time, all the children were ready to go. Quickly, they made it to the bank. The six children with powers devised a plan to get inside while Vanya stayed with Mr. Hargreeves looking at the scene from afar. All the kids minus Luther make their way into the bank through side entrances trying to not get caught. As nonchalantly as possible Allison walked towards the main part of the bank. As she did so she saw one of the criminals talking on a walkie talkie.

"Hey get them behind the counter," He said to some other robbers using his gun to gesture "Now you've put me in a position where I gotta do something I don't wanna do. SHIT!"

She approaches the man and stands their innocently.

"Hey get back with the others!" The man commands to Allison

"I heard a rumor... Allison replies

"What? What did you say?" The man asks

Allison then leans in towards the man and repeats herself. Putting a hand up to her mouth she says,

"I heard a rumor that you shot your friend in the foot."

Under the command of Allison's power, the man turns to his accomplice and aims the gun at him.

"Hey dude, what the hell?" the other man asks

The man under Allison's power then shoots his friend in the foot before shooting again. The other man falls to the ground and accidentally shoots off rounds from his automatic weapon. The hostages of the bank scream in fear. A crash then comes from the ceiling as a bunch of glass rains down into the bank. Along with the glass is Luther who jumps down into the bank, grabs one of the criminals banging his head against the counter before throwing him out of one of the high windows. Within seconds Diego runs in brandishing his weapons of choice,

"Guns are for sissies, real men throw knives!" He exclaims throwing his knives and redirecting them towards one of the gunmen 

The knives manage to hit the gunman in the shoulder and his heart. After the one gunman got hit by Diego's knives, the man standing next to Allison came out of his trance and ran away from her towards the counter. As the kids and robbers continue to fight chaos continues to ensue throughout the whole building.

__________________________

You and your parents had been in the backroom upstairs for what felt like hours at this point. The man who stood before you kept yelling at your father to tell him where the safe that had your tiara was. Somehow your dad had avoided the question thus far but the criminal was becoming inpatient. The robber was about to speak again when the sound of gunshots rang out from downstairs.

"We're gonna have to move this along. If you're not going to tell me straight up then I'm just going to have to force it out of you!" The robber yells

The robber then grabs you and holds the gun in his hand against your head.

"You should let go of me before something happens." You comment calmly

"Aw, what are you gonna do? Cry?" The man mocks

"You asked for it." You reply

In one swift motion, you phase backward through the man and kick him towards a desk that was in the room. As he falls over it you grab the letter opener and stab the man in the back with it hitting his heart. Undoing your parents' bindings you tell them,

"Stay here."

"But-" Your mom interjects

"STAY HERE" you command them

Within a second's time, you had phased through the door and into the middle of the upstairs hallway. Making yourself visible you use your powers to manifest the tiara in your hand and hold it up.

"Hey!" you yell grabbing the attention of the armed robbers "Looking for this?"

The angry men start to chase you but you turn invisible.

"Where'd she go?" One of them asks

One of the men walks down the hall to see if he can find you. Once the men are on two opposite side of the hall you reappear and taunt,

"If you want this crown you'll have to kill me for it."

The two men turn their guns on you and start to rapidly fire but you use your powers to make them go through you harmlessly and the two men end up killing each other. After you confirm they were incapacitated you hear a voice yell,

"Get back you freaks!"

Looking down from the balcony you see a man standing on top of the bank counter surrounded by Allison, Diego, and Klaus in their academy uniforms. You wonder when they got here but continue watching. the man points his gun at each of them he demands,

"Hey be careful up there buddy," Klaus comments

"Yeah, wouldn't want you to get hurt" Allison chimes

"Get back now!" The criminal demands

Five flashes behind the man so he is sitting criss-cross on the counter.

"Or what?" He asks with a cocky smile

The man turns his attention and gun to Five and starts shooting but Five had flashed away before any bullets could hit him. Flashing behind the man once more he crosses his arms, a serious look on his face. The man on the counter turns to him and starts clicking a stapler at him. Five looks down at the stapler before sarcastically commenting,

"That's one badass stapler."

Immediately after though Five forcefully pushes the man's hand. The stapler hits hard causing a gash in his head and the man to fall off the counter. Your jaw drops and your heart starts to race a little. 

"Damn," you whisper to yourself

Something about him kicking that guys ass was really attractive to you. Forgetting that you were in the middle of fighting one of the robbers grabs you and takes the tiara out of your hand. You phase out of his arms and say,

"Either the crown goes down on the group or you go up in the air."

"You're not getting this back." The man states

"Alright, don't say I didn't warn you."

And with that you make it so this man's molecules are extremely light and hang him upside down in the air over the lobby of the bank. Freaking out he throws the tiara over the balcony and it lands by your feet. Not part of your plan but you are satisfied nonetheless. You continue to leave the man hanging as you watch your friends downstairs. Outside the vault five of the six children stand in a semi-circle around Ben.

"Do I really have to do this?" Ben asks

"C'mon Ben there are more of them in the vault," Luther says

"I didn't sign up for this," Ben says in a resigned tone

Ben enters the vault and begins to take out the men in their one by one. From across the room the man you were holding yells,

"Put me down!"

The five children left outside the vault switch their attention and see a man dangling upside down in the air. Looking slightly above him they can see you standing on the balcony above.

"I said put me down you crazy bitch!" 

"You got it." You reply with a smirk before making the man's molecules extremely dense

The man rapidly falls down towards the floor of the lobby and impales himself on a flagpole. Five looks up at you an admiring smile on his face and awe in his eyes (even if they were hidden behind a mask). He had never seen someone so beautifully kebob a man. 

"Wow." Five said to himself

The hostages in the bank start to run out of the building screaming. You transport yourself downstairs to the middle of the lobby and watch the bloodbath occur behind the translucent glass of the vault. When it stops you see Ben slowly step out from behind the door and he can be heard saying,

"Can we go home now?"

You see the children walk around the counter to make their way over to you. Even behind their masks, you could see the excitement in their faces especially that of Five. The children approach you but as they do you can see one of the men still alive get up and quickly make their way over to your group. Raising their gun up, they point it in their direction. He could've aimed at any one of you but he pointed his gun at Five. Quickly reacting you yell,

"Five watch out!"

You then transport your molecules so that you are between Five and the gunman. The gunman pulls his trigger but you push his arm up so that the shot hits the ceiling. You wrap your hand around his neck and look him in the eyes. Adrenaline rushing through your veins all you could think about was how this man almost killed the boy you loved. You were about to say something when,

*BANG*

Your entire top part of your body was covered in red. The body of the man falls backward and you see that all that was left was the shoulders down. You blink a couple of times coming to the realization of what you just did. Slowly turning to the group of kids Diego exclaims,

"HOLY SHIT (Y/N), YOU BLEW HIS HEAD OFF! THAT'S SO COOL.”

"Uh, thanks." you comment before gesturing to yourself and adding "Hey Ben, looks like we're twins now.”

You see a smile appear on the face of the boy who didn't want to be here in the first place. He didn't say anything but it brought him comfort to know you were in the same boat as him. You watch as Five opens his mouth to say something but before he can you hear someone screaming your name from above you. Turning around you see your parents. You wave to them from the lobby floor.

"Hi, mom! Hi dad!" You say as if nothing was wrong

You and the Hargreeves kids all watch as your parents rush down the stairs to get to you. When your mom gets to you she crouches down looking all over you for injuries.

"Oh my god (Y/N) are you okay? You're all covered in blood!" She cries

"Don't worry mom, it's not my blood!" You say with a positive attitude

Your mom wails in distress at the sight of her baby covered in someone else's blood.

"Honey, I don't think that was the right answer." You dad comments putting a hand on your mom's shoulder

"Oh uh, well then it is-" You start to say

"No don't finish that sentence, that's not it either." Your dad adds

Your dad helps your distressed mom off the floor and places a hand on your back escorting you all to the door. As the three of you walk he says,

"You know what. We're gonna go home and you're gonna get all that blood off you and then your mom and I are going to lay down for the rest of the day while you do whatever makes you happy for your birthday.”

The six children watch as you make your way out the door with your parents but before you exit you turn to smile at them knowing that you would see them later. As soon as you leave the kids rush out to the front steps so that the public can acknowledge them for the first time. This was the most exciting birthday they had had so far but they all knew it would only get better once you came over to celebrate later.

Tag list: @xplrreylo @joebob15274 @insatiable-ivy @fruitsaladtree @angelpeachamber @academy-umbrella @lizziel1410 @ir3neeee @faith-quake @aliens-with-colas @eddiomyspaghettio @lady-celeste25 @im-dead-and-hurting @nerdypinupcrystal @cherry-ki-d @anapocalypseinmymind

[imagineaworlds]

I Had a Dream (Part Two) -- BAU Team

“Rules”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Sir kink, Dom/sub relationship, Mistress kink, Daddy kink, Master kink, dirty talk, thigh riding, discussion of bondage and BDSM themes. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy), Emily Prentiss x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy), BAU team x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy)

Word Count: 3000

A/N: I swear, the next part is when things get REAL!

A few hours later, the doorbell rang. I had been sitting on the couch anxiously, watching the clock on the wall, counting the minutes until Emily was supposed to show up. Hotch had invited her to show up early to help ease me into all of this because it was so out of pocket. I liked the idea of what was going to happen, but he wanted to make sure that I was comfortable over all else. If the team showed up and I backpedaled on the idea, he was going to kick them out. If any of them were uncomfortable, he was going to make sure they were taken care of and that they would get home safe. This was all supposed to be fun and safe. No one was supposed to be uneasy. Nerves were okay, obviously, but being entirely unsure was another thing. That was why Emily showed up first.

Hotch opened the door and invited her in. I stood to face her, and I noted how she paused in the doorway to drink in my appearance. A red v-neck shirt was tucked into my sweatpants, no bra or panties to cover up any part of me. My nipples were already poking against my shirt in response to my excitement. Emily noticed right away, and she licked her lips.

“Baby girl…” she cooed, meandering casually over to me. I stayed silent. “You okay?” I nodded and smiled. “Good girl.” She wiped a thumb slowly and seductively over my bottom lip. “He wants me to talk over everything with you. Sit.”

I eyed Hotch out of the corner of my eye as I followed her direction. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. I knew that he knew my limits like the back of his hand, but being safe and comfortable included discussing everything with the team as they would show up, and the best way to make me be honest was to discuss it with someone who wasn’t him— someone I wasn’t trying to impress for the sake of our relationship outside of the bedroom. Emily was going to review everything with me, then, when the entire team was there, she was going to present it all for them like we did with profiles during cases.

“We’re not playing right now, Y/N,” she said as she sat across from me. “This is just a discussion about your limits, your likes, what you expect, and so on. It’s imperative that you’re honest with me so that we can all please you the best we can. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“I need you to speak up. This only works with verbal communication.”

“I understand,” I croaked.

“Good.” She leaned back. “They’re going to show up in twenty minutes, at which point, they will sit down on the couches while you kneel beside me and Hotch. You let us worry about communicating with them and making sure they’re still alright with all of this. I want you to just focus on not getting ahead of yourself. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll start with a safe word. What do you want it to be?”

I looked at Hotch again to see him gesture for me to answer. I sucked in a deep breath. The air smelled like Hotch— like cinnamon and pine. A thought struck me. “Cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon will mean a complete stop to the scene. No matter what’s happening, everyone will stop what they’re doing, and we’ll assess the situation. You’ll only use cinnamon when absolutely necessary.”

“Yes.”

“He says you want to use the playroom, not the bedroom.”

“Yes.”

“That means all of the toys will be down there for them to consider. What do you not want to use?”

I considered. Mine and Hotch’s playroom was down in the basement. It was one large, open space with a California King bed pressed against the far right wall, and toys organized everywhere around the room. There were cases, shelves, hooks, drawers, everything filled with toys for pleasure and punishment. There were ropes, chains, collars, zip ties, handcuffs, and leather cuffs all for the purpose of bondage. Ball gags, O-gags, cock gags (front, back, and double sided), and duct tape for keeping me quiet. Vibrators, dildos, plugs, strap ons, lube, and fake cum (for the strap ons) to please me. Paddles, shockers, clamps, pumps, chastity belts, pin rollers, clothes pins, and so on for punishment. The whole shabang. Hotch and I spent a lot of our time collecting all of those things throughout our relationship based on our changing comfort zones. I wasn’t sure, however, how far I wanted the team to go with me…

“I… I don’t know.”

“You have to tell me, Y/N, or this won’t work.”

I gulped. “No pain— except for clamps.”

Hotch grinned in the corner. He knew I was a sucker for clamps. We pretended like they were a punishment, but we both knew they only gave me more pleasure than pain.

“Do you want them to tie you up?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Gag you?”

“Yes.”

“Degrade you?”

“Yes.”

“Spank you?”

“Yes.”

“Contraceptives?”

“Yes,” Hotch beat me to it. “They’re on birth control, but I want the men to wear condoms.”

Emily looked at me. “Y/N?”

I nodded an agreement. “Yes. But I want the girls to use the fake cum, if they want.” I knew Emily was into that.

“Names and titles?”

“Yes.”

“What do you like?”

“Baby girl, baby, princess, slut, whore, anything along those lines.”

“And for them?”

“Whatever they want.”

“We’ll discuss it with them when they get here,” Hotch offered.

Emily and I both nodded. She continued, “Edging?”

“Yes.”

“Ruins?”

“Yes.”

“Forced orgasms?”

“Yes.”

“Roleplay?”

“What kind?”

“Consensual non consensual.”

I rubbed my thighs together as I felt her words go straight to my core. “Yes…”

“Voyeurism?”

“Yes.”

“Teacher roleplay?”

“I—“ I hesitated. “In what sense?”

“Rossi said he likes teaching people how to please women.”

My eyes widened. I knew that Rossi… Well, I knew that he was like me and Hotch because he invited us to a party once, but I never expected… “Yes. And, I, uh… I trust him to lightly use a flogger on me in that case. But only him.”

“Noted. Double penetration?”

“No.”

“Anal?”

“No.”

“Oral, female and male?”

“Yes to both.”

“Breath play?”

“No.”

“Choking?”

“Lightly.”

Emily looked to Hotch. “Can you think of anything else?”

“If you’re gagged, do you want to use Colors?” he asked me directly.

I nodded. “Yes.”

He turned to Emily to explain, “They’ll knock three times or hold out three fingers for green— which means good. They’ll knock twice or hold out two fingers for yellow— meaning slow down, check up, or change scene. They’ll knock once or hold up one finger for red— full stop.”

“Okay,” Emily agreed. “Easy enough.” She smiled at me. “See? It wasn’t so bad.”

I wiggled my hips around slightly. “Mhm. Not- Not at all.”

She squinted. “Baby girl… You still have ten minutes.”

I whimpered. “I know, Mistress. I’m already eager, though.”

Emily licked her teeth and shifted in his seat. “Come keep my thigh warm, then.” I immediately jumped to my feet and hurried over to her. “Face Sir.” I did as I was told, sitting on Emily’s left thigh, my back against her warm chest, my face pouting up at Hotch, still standing across the room with his arms crossed. “You can grind, but don’t edge.”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.” I whimpered as I slowly moved my hips forwards and back, feeling my clit rub against the seam in my sweatpants. “Fuck…”

“You’re already soaking your pants, princess,” she chuckled wickedly in my ear. “We’re going to have so much fun ruining you. Are you excited to be treated like the needy fucking whore you are?”

I nodded eagerly and moaned my way through a, “Yes, Mistress.”

The doorbell suddenly rang, making me jump. Emily caught me and held me steady. “Shhh… They’re just early. Probably just as eager to get started as you are.” She brushed my hair off my shoulders. “Are you still okay?”

I nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Sir and I are in charge. We’ll make sure you’re okay the entire time.”

The doorbell rang again, so Hotch pushed himself off the wall and turned to open it. Emily patted my hips, a signal for me to stand up. I recalled that she wanted me to kneel beside her for this part. So, as she moved to stand in the front of the room, I followed, then slowly got down on my knees beside her, my bicep pressed against the outside of her right leg. She ran her palm over the top of my head to silently compliment me.

When the door opened and Hotch ushered them in, I saw Rossi, Morgan, Garcia, JJ, and Spencer all enter in that order. I nuzzled against Emily’s side to show that I was nervous.

“You’re okay?” she asked in a whisper. I nodded. “Speak.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I whispered back.

“Tap my leg for Colors. Once for red, two for yellow, three for green.”

I nudged her leg with my shoulder three times.

As the team filed into the living room, they all took notice of my obedience. Rossi was grinning at me. He always wanted to play with me and Hotch, but every time we planning something, work got in the way. Now, though, he was going to ruin me, just like Emily promised. His excitement clearly couldn’t be contained. Morgan was also grinning, just not in the same dominant way Rossi was. He was a playboy, and he seemed like the kind of guy who always considered partaking in something like this but never got the chance until now. That being said, I could tell he was holding back because Garcia was holding his hand a little tight, unsure of what to do with herself. I knew if there was anyone we had to worry about most, it was probably her. JJ and Spencer, however, seemed to be staring at me and Emily with lust already glossing over their eyes. JJ was more trained on Emily than me, but Spencer looked like he wanted to ravish me— which, truth be told, caught me off guard. I knew that he was like us and Rossi, too, but it always seemed more hypothetical than anything else. Hotch and I were convinced that he only knew as much as he did about BDSM because of all the books he had read over time. Now that the opportunity had arisen to try everything he wanted, I recognized the look in his eyes that said: “I’m going to fuck you sore.”

Hotch approached the front of the room. The team sat down, and Hotch stood on my right side. Emily asked me for Colors again, so I nudged her three times. When she had the green light, she told me to keep my eyes on the ground. When I followed her orders, Hotch began.

“Before we start, it’s imperative that everyone here understands that you are not being pressured to be here. No one will judge you for needing a break, needing some air, or needing to leave entirely. We’ve invited you as guests. Your safety is just as important as ours. If at any moment you feel overwhelmed, come speak to me or Emily. If you just need a moment to yourself, there are cups out on the counter for drinks, and there are snacks. There will be no alcohol allowed, however. The table on the patio in the backyard is clean. Please, if you need some air, don’t hesitate to go sit outside for a bit. If you need to leave, we’ll arrange that immediately. Does everyone understand?”

There were a few hums of agreement, and I assumed that they were all nodding.

“Y/N and I have discussed everything together. Hotch and I will present their limits and likes, and we’ll take questions as we go. Afterwards, they’ll be asked to address you to test titles. If you don’t want to use titles, tell them. They’ll just use your name. Do you understand?”

More hums.

“We’ve discussed two methods of safety during the scenes. The safe word ‘Cinnamon’ means that the scene should come to a complete stop. If anyone uses this word, everyone needs to stop what they're doing so that we can address the situation. If Y/N uses the safe word, he’ll handle it. Y/N has expressed that they are fine with using gags during the scenes. If they should ever be gagged, they will use a color system where red means complete stop, yellow means check up, and green means everything’s fine. One finger, knock, or tap is red; two is for yellow; and three is for green. Like this. Colors, baby girl,” she addressed me. I nudged her three times. “Is that clear to everyone?”

More hums.

“Downstairs is where the playroom is,” Hotch explained. “Down there, you’ll find shelves, drawers, and other storage devices used to hold all of the toys and equipment we own for scenes. The bottom drawer of the dresser on the left side of the bed is off limits. Y/N has expressed that they have no interest in using punishment toys— found in that drawer— but that includes the paddles on the wall. If you see paddles, shockers, pumps, chastity belts, pin rollers, or clothes pins, do not touch them. Y/N has claimed this as their limit. Nipple clamps, however, are still allowed.”

Emily continued. “BDSM is encouraged. Restraints, gags, blindfolds, degradation, edging, ruined orgasms, forced orgasms. spanking, and choking are all allowed. Extreme breath play is not allowed.”

“We ask that the men use condoms. Y/N wants the women to know that they are allowed to use the fake cum for the strap ons, if they so choose.”

“We discussed potential roleplay scenarios that were requested. Reid, consensual non consensual is okay.”

My eyes widened. Reid was the one who requested that? I was shocked. I didn’t think he had it in him to be so rough. There was so much I didn’t know about him, it seemed.

“Rossi,” Emily continued, “your teacher roleplay scenario is also okay. If you choose to perform this scene, make it clear to the others in the group what it is you’re doing. Y/N’s also specified that in this roleplay scenario, they trust Rossi to lightly use a flogger. No one else, though.”

“Anal and double penetration are not allowed,” Hotch said. “If anyone tries it, they will be asked to leave.”

“Part of the degradation kink is to use names like slut, whore, cunt— sometimes used specifically as ‘edge’ or ‘cum slut’, ‘needy whore’, ‘broken cunt’, and so on. These names are all allowed. If you find that you are uncomfortable with degrading them in this way, they also like baby, baby girl, and princess. They enjoy addressing their dominants with titles. For instance, Hotch uses Sir, and I use Mistress. Now, we’re not saying you have to address us with these titles, but you may. The real point is that Y/N would like to know how they should address each of you. Again, titles are up to you. You don’t have to have one. Using your name is fine, if that’s what you prefer. But you need to tell us, and then they’ll be tested as we start. Rossi, we’ll start with you.”

He sighed to hide his anticipation. “Master.”

“Color,” Emily ordered me. I nudged her three times. “Morgan.”

“Daddy.”

“Color.” I bit my lip and nudged green again. “Garcia.”

“Just Penelope.”

“JJ.”

“I—“ She hesitated. “I don’t…”

“You don’t have to,” Hotch reminded her.

“I want to,” she clarified, “I just don’t know what to say.”

“Well, there’s Mistress, like me, Ma’am, Mommy— girls can also use Daddy and Sir. It’s whatever you want.”

JJ still hesitated for a moment. “Um… Ma’am…”

“Color, baby girl,” Emily reached down to caress my cheek. I nuzzled my cheek into her palm three times. “Reid.”

“Mister S,” he answered.

Emily asked me for Colors again, to which I gave her green. “You may look up now, baby girl.”

I peeled my eyes away from the carpet, slowly trailing my way up to get a good look at everyone sitting on the couches across from us. I could see that Morgan and Reid were already hard and squirming, whereas Rossi still had his nonchalant demeanor plastered to his behavior, and JJ was still watching Emily intently, and Garcia was holding onto Morgan.

“Go one by one, and address them,” Emily ordered me.

I made eye contact with Rossi, “Master.” Morgan, “Daddy.” He cleared his throat and squirmed more. Garcia smiled at me. “Penelope.” JJ, “Ma’am.” Reid, “Sir.”

When I didn’t say anything else, Emily fisted my hair in her hand and pulled my head back so I was looking up at her and Hotch. “And us, slut.”

I gulped. “Mistress and Sir.”

She let go of me roughly. “Good girl.”

“Again,” Hotch said to the team, “water and snacks in the kitchen, the table on the patio, and Emily and I can arrange early rides home if anyone needs it.”

“I’ll go with them downstairs first,” Emily said to Hotch. He nodded. “Come on, baby girl.” She held her hand out for me. I carefully accepted and let her pull me to my feet, then start leading me to the basement door. Silently, we made our way down to the playroom. “Sit on the edge of the bed.” I did as I was told. “You’re still okay?”

I nodded.

“Speak when spoken to, slut.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“You’ll tell me or Hotch if something’s wrong?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good girl. Lay back and wait.”

I let out a shaky breath as I moved back onto the middle of the bed, then laid down until my head hit the pillows.

-----------

criminal minds family: @gorgeousdarkangel​ @peggy1999​ @marvelismylifffe @alex--awesome--22​ @oceaneblu​ @brithedemonspawn​

[loveinterestcastiel]

sursum corda

Part one of a new canon divergent series, “A Sacrament to Be Taken Kneeling”

Summary: the opening dialogue to the eucharistic prayer, or anaphora, translated to english means “lift up your hearts”, and is the beginning of a devout worshipper’s holy communion with god

Canon divergent from 6x22, this one is rated M for religious blasphemy, power dynamics, and mature subject matter (later installments will be rated E for violence, sexual content, and graphic depictions of blood). Honestly this is just a fucked up exploration of the catholicnatural that could have been if the spn writers hadn’t been cowards and had instead really leaned into the whole Godstiel thing, and his dynamic with Dean. I’m going to hell for this and you know what? That’s just fine with me.

It can be read here or in AO3! Enjoy <3

Castiel was brighter than the sun, and he was beautiful. He was the most terrifying thing Dean had ever seen, because somewhere in there, he could still see Cas, the old Cas. He let Crowley go. Dean was going to kill that demon, but- later. Later, when they got out of here and got Sammy put back together.

Then Castiel blew Raphael up with nothing more than a snap of his fingers, and their most formidable adversary, after all these months, was suddenly just a bloody smear on the wall. The last Apocalyptic threat, gone, just like that, leaving Dean and Bobby alone with a Cas-gone-nuclear.

They were so, so fucked.

Cas looked over to Dean, his face softening incrementally but still distinctly smug.

"So you see," he said, turning away from Dean and moving as if to inspect his explosive handiwork, "I saved you."

Dean Winchester is saved.

“You sure did, Cas,” Dean said faintly, drifting further into Cas’s orbit as if somehow compelled. Castiel didn’t acknowledge him, keeping his back turned, his spine ramrod straight. Damage control. Holy fucking shit, damage control right now. “Thank you.”

“You doubted me. Fought against me.” He slowly turned to face Dean, a mockery of their first meeting in that rundown barn years ago, tilting his head the same way, his blue eyes the same limitless color and just as mesmerizing, but somehow about a million times more unsettling. “But I was right all along.”

Dean’s stomach swooped. “Okay, Cas, you were. We’re sorry,” he added quickly, his breath shallow and shaky. “Now let’s just defuse you, okay?” he suggested, the words cumbersome and heavy in his mouth.

Cas narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly before relaxing again. “What do you mean?” he asked icily.

Dean forged on desperately. “You’re full of nuke. It’s not safe, so before the eclipse ends, let’s get them souls back to where they belong.” Oh, he felt like he was going to be sick. Please, Cas, please just listen to me…

“Oh, no, they belong with me,” Cas countered, his tone almost patronizing, like he was speaking to a child.

“No, Cas,” Dean interrupted before his brain or his fear could catch up to him. “It’s- it’s scrambling your brain.”

“No, I’m not finished yet,” he said firmly, with the ghost of a cold smile tugging on his features. “Raphael had many followers, and I must-” Cas paused, choosing his words, “punish them all severely,” he finished deliberately.

Bobby’s eyes darted over to Dean. He was visibly horrified.

Okay. One last effort. Okay.

Dean shoved down his fear and tried again. “Listen to me.” He stepped closer to Cas, swallowing hard as his voice fought to stick in his throat and looking steadily into his eyes. “Listen- I know there’s a lot of bad water under the bridge. But we were family, once,” he pleaded. “I’d have died for you. I almost did a few times.” Castiel’s face remained impassive but Dean continued. “So if that means anything to you- please,” he begged, abandoning his pride. “I’ve lost Lisa, I’ve lost Ben, and now I’ve lost Sam. Don’t make me lose you too.”

Castiel wrenched his eyes away from Dean’s and cast his gaze down to the floor between them. Was he considering it?

“You don’t need this kind of juice anymore, Cas,” he tried to reason. “Get rid of it before it kills us all.”

A beat.

“You’re just saying that because I won,” Cas mused, raising his gaze back up to look at Dean again, pinning him there like a specimen under a microscope. “Because you’re afraid . You’re not my family, Dean,” he said, closing the remaining distance between them until he stood less than an arm’s reach away, positively radiating power, the air vibrating with it. “You’re just… human.”

His eyes lingered on Dean’s face, tracing his freckles, his eyelashes. Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t seem to find it. Castiel’s face hardened into stone, his next words iron. “I have no family.”

The words rang in Dean’s ears, banging about his brain and battering it into despair. It felt like a small death, his heart pulling on his ribs as he floundered for a new angle to pursue.

And then Sam was there, behind Castiel, and he just stabbed him with an angel blade, and Cas was swaying just a bit with the blade still stuck in his back as Sam gasped for air behind him, clearly distressed and stumbling backwards.

Dean froze, horrified.

What the FUCK were you thinking, Sam?

But- oh. Oh god.

Cas wasn’t dead. It didn’t work. His brain buzzed blankly with a static-y sensation of bewilderment as Cas reached around himself and pulled out the blade- shiny, clean, utterly free of blood- with an alarming squelching noise.

"I'm glad you made it, Sam," Cas said in a distressingly level voice, placing the newly-extricated angel blade on the table in front of him before turning to glance at Sam. “But the angel blade won’t work, because I’m not an angel anymore,” he said, matter-of-fact as could be, as if he hadn’t just dropped yet another massive bomb on their lives. Sam looked to Bobby, his eyes wide, and Bobby shrugged back minutely, similarly floored.

Look at me, Cas, leave Sammy alone, you’ve done enough-

As if he heard Dean’s thoughts- fuck, was he praying?- Castiel turned back to Dean and met his eyes. “I’m your new God,” he said, with an air of authority and immense self-satisfaction permeating his words. “A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you.”

Bobby’s eyes widened in the periphery of Dean’s vision as time seemed to swirl and slow down to a crawl- clearly, he hadn’t expected this either.

Sammy was strung out and swaying on his feet behind Cas, his eyes darting and rolling over the room as he rode out the hellish things that tormented him in his head, seemingly incapable of reacting to the gravity of the situation as what Cas had done put him out of his mind with fear.

In the span of a heartbeat, Dean made his choice. He had no choice.

He fell to his knees.

The crack of bone on hard tile was near agony. His gun clattered uselessly to the ground beside him as he shifted his gaze to land somewhere around the hem of Castiel’s coat. He couldn’t look at his face. Couldn’t meet his eyes. It was almost impossible to believe the terrifying figure before him was once his closest friend, and had saved him from Heaven and Hell alike before he had turned into whatever this was.

His throat was dry. He forced himself to swallow, drawing his tongue over his bottom lip as he tried to find the right words.

Bobby started to kneel, too. Survival instincts, probably. He’d have never gotten this old without them, anyway.

“My lord,” he began hesitantly.

The new God waved his hand dismissively at the title. “Castiel.”

“Castiel,” Dean corrected himself. Great start, you fuck up. “Cas, I swore my obedience to Heaven, once. To God, and his angels. To you,” his voice cracked as he risked a glance at the former angel. His eyes were like fire. Glowing. Unreal.

Bobby interrupted: “Dean, no-”

But Castiel snapped up a hand, palm out, and Bobby’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. “You will be silent,” Castiel ordered, his eyes never leaving Dean. He looked intrigued by Dean’s sudden compliance and admission. “I’d like to hear what you have to say, Dean. What can you possibly say to justify your lack of faith in me up until now? I could have cast you back into the pit, and Sam, too, had I not done this, all of it, for you.”

“I know you did, Cas,” Dean said. “Thank you. I- thank you. You were right, about everything, and I should have listened to you. I was wrong. I should have trusted you.” The words tasted like poison in his mouth. A part of him meant it. A part of him was just desperate enough to say anything. The rest of him wanted to see the cold monster in front of him dead. But how could he turn back now, without sentencing them all to death? If he played his cards right, he might even be able to save Castiel. Surely if he could get him to let go of those souls, he’d start to see reason, would be Cas again. But he was getting ahead of himself. Gotta think a little more short-term, right now. Band-aids and duct tape, not trauma surgery.

“I was blind,” Dean said, “and proud. I took you for granted, and I can do better. Be better. For- for you.”

He had never felt so weak. Groveling to his dad was different. He was his dad’s son, sure, but there was no love there. It was all survival, clinical, even his rage and his fists when Dean didn’t do enough to earn his mercy were detached. Duty and discipline and disappointment. This was different. It was hot with near-tears, messy and filled with grief for a man who wasn’t even dead. He wasn’t lying earlier when he told Cas he was like a brother to him. It was the closest comparison he had for what the angel was to his heart. He had never needed anyone like he needed Castiel- because he wasn’t Sammy, or Bobby, or Lisa, or Ben, or Cassie, or any other category of need. He was just Cas. And Dean wanted him in his life. Or he used to, anyway.

“I don’t know what I can do to make it right between us, Cas,” he said, his throat tightening slightly. “But I want to,” Dean offered, looking down in shame. “I want to be-” he choked out.

“What do you want, Dean?” Castiel asked, taking another step forward, the very picture of authority and control. One more step and Dean could reach out and touch him. The air was electric, heady with power as it positively radiated from his body.

He lifted his head to meet Castiel’s eyes in a pose of supplication, his knees aching, his eyes burning with tears as the situation started to overwhelm him. “I want to be forgiven,” he gasped out. “Cas, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive us.”

“And Sam’s betrayal?” Castiel inquired, casting new fear into Dean’s heart. “He stabbed me in the back. And he has not knelt as you have. Why should I offer him mercy?” he mused.

“Look at him, Cas,” Dean said quietly. Sam was hunched over on the floor in the corner, holding his head in his hands, rocking slightly into the wall and pushing off of it again in a strange repetitive motion. “He can’t follow any of this. I don’t think he even knows where we are. It’s been getting worse as time passes. He was slightly more coherent an hour ago, but-” Dean shook his head. “I think he was just trying to protect me. I don’t think he even knew who you were, just- saw a threat and tried to take it out.”

Cas made a noncommittal little noise, glancing over to where Sam had retreated.

“Cas,” Dean said, drawing his attention back to himself. “He didn’t know what he was doing. Can you try to forgive him that?” he pleaded as the first tear escaped and ran down his cheek.

“And in return?”

“Anything,” Dean swore. “Just- Cas, please. I’ll do anything. I will, I swear it. Just please help Sammy.”

“It won’t be as easy as you think,” Castiel warned. “I want your trust, Dean. I want the bond we once had, and your submission to my better judgement, untainted by your... fear.” His voice turned hungry, reminiscent of when they worked that killer Cupid case last year and it turned out to be Famine. To be on the receiving end of desire of that magnitude was by turns exhilarating and horrifying. “I want your love.”

“Cas,” Dean said faintly, unable to tear his eyes away from his friend’s face even as Bobby attempted to fight his holy gag order from his place next to him. “I… I’ll try. For you,” he added, trying to add a note or resolve to his voice as his thoughts roared in fear and grappled with the idea, stuck on the precipice of this terrible new unknown he had run up against. But he truly had no choice. Sink or swim.

“I swear, Cas,” he said, raising his hand to his heart, “I’ll try.”

Castiel’s eyes softened. They stopped glowing.

Suddenly, for a moment, he looked just like himself. More than that, he looked heartbreakingly human.

He moved suddenly, sending Dean’s heart sprinting again for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

But he didn’t hurt him. He didn’t hurt Sam, or smite Bobby, or engage in any sort of holy wrath. He just kneeled, in front of Dean, and clasped his clammy hands briefly in his own warm, dry ones before shifting them both to his right hand and raising his right palm to Dean’s cheek, his eyes darting over his features with an air of disbelieving gratitude. It was so...

Castiel had lovely hands, Dean noticed. Strong, soft, and broad, with a gentle grip and long, agile fingers. So different from Dean’s own hands, already scarred from the last few years of wear and tear since his resurrection. Of course, he’d noticed before. Noticed that sort of thing about Castiel, how he used his hands to fight, to pray, to eat and to comfort, how they looked drenched in blood and how they looked at rest. How they looked striking a blow to his own face, and how they looked when he healed him. They were one of a million things Dean knew about him better than he knew himself.

“Oh, Dean,” he said softly, “That’s all I ask of you. Just try. Lift up your heart to me, and I will give you everything.”

Dean inhaled sharply, his chest tight as he leaned into the touch. "It's yours," he breathed out, "It's all yours, Cas."

Castiel smiled, and the world fell away.

Tagging in some people who I think might be interested, just dm me to be added or removed: @castieljew @dependsupon @autisticandroids @sunforgrace @heller-jensen @lateral-org @cactuscas @adhdeancas @icaruscastiel @holmesemrys @evermorecastiel @yana125 @faithcastiel @good-things-do-happen-dean @i-sing-for-me @whatevr-4evr @sonder-stars @jeanne-de-valois

[thisplace-ishaunted]

Can’t Find No Heaven

You know that people, they are are driftin’ from door to door But you can’t find no heaven, I don’t care where they go

Link to parts 1-3.  Stale // Smoke // Tar or full text below.

Pt.1  Stale

      He hadn’t seen another car for miles. The waning moon and the yellow headlights were just enough to see the road ahead, the asphalt crumbling on the shoulders of the road and the endless miles of desert and ranch land zooming past them on either side.  Out here, there was no speed limit.

      Ryan had nodded off, head slumped against the window, and Chris’ adrenaline had also left him exhausted, a single hand lazily on the top of the steering wheel while the other picked at a thread in his jeans.

      The sedative seemed to have done its job; Chris hadn’t heard a peep from the girl in the back.  The last thing they needed was her waking up and freaking out, screaming through the duct tape over her mouth and kicking at the back of their seats.   Good thing there are child locks on the back doors of the car.

      Chris sighed and shifted in his seat, changing his grip on the wheel.  The road rumbled beneath them, mixing with Ryan’s occasional snore, and the whistle of the girl breathing through her nose.  They would drive for the night, sure to end up at some desolate roadside motel.  Ryan wanted to have his way with the girl, and Chris would need to sleep eventually.  Then they’d come back out here, on another night just like this one, and dump her.  Coyotes and vultures would find her first.

      The air sat stale inside the car.  Chris wished he could roll down the window, breathe in the clean night air, smell the scent of the desert and the moonlight, but he didn’t want to wake Ryan.

Pt.2   Smoke

      Chris kicked up the rocks and dust with his shoe, watching as it plumed up and blew away in the breeze.  The sun had just risen, and the cool of the night was fading.  The two of them could stop at a diner, maybe the coffee could take the edge off of the exhaustion headache pulsing through Chris’ skull.

      They had found a motel, managed to drag the girl into the room without being seen.  That was a relief, at least.

      A dusty bed, stained wallpaper, an ancient phone, a single armchair, and the girl, flopped carelessly across the bedspread.

      Chris knew what came next, what always has to come next, before the sedative wears off… Ryan doesn’t like the struggle.

      Chris saw himself out, sitting on the porch of the motel, looking out at the last bits of night.  These were his least favorite parts.  He had tried to watch the first time, before quickly realizing he could not stomach it.  They might as well be dead, Chris had thought.  What is the point of keeping them alive, if they might as well be dead?

      Hopefully he would get to sleep soon, he shouldn’t do much more driving without some sleep.

      Maybe it was minutes or maybe it was an hour, but the door behind Chris squeaked open, a few steps of Ryan’s boots before he took a seat on the concrete next to Chris.  A sheen of sweat covered Ryan’s forehead.

      Ryan pulled out a cigarette, flicked his lighter, and the smoke rose up past his face, licking his skin.  Ryan knew not to even try to offer one to Chris; Chris would never smoke… it would make him too much like Ryan.  Disgusting.  Perverted.  Chris would never.

Pt.3  Tar

The ceiling and walls of the motel room had this awful popcorn texture that held onto bits of dust and sticky yellow tint from years of cigarette tar.  Chris had been awake for nearly an hour, restlessly studying the intricacies of the room.  He shifted to his left, seeing Ryan stir before blinking open, running his hands over his face to rub the sleep from his eyes.

They needed to get on the road, check-out was at 11am and neither of them could afford another night at the motel.

Chris liked when Ryan was asleep, watching his eyes move behind his lids, a light snore in Ryan’s chest.  It allowed Chris to push away, to forget what he had become, what Chris had enabled.  When Ryan was asleep, he was still just Ryan.

The two had fallen into step with each other a while back, neither of their lifestyles had much permanence.  It was after one of their sloppy, sweaty hookups in the back of Chris’ car that Ryan had suggested his ideas.  “Would you help me?  It would be easier with the both of us.”  Chris was not of the highest morals himself, and had no room to object.  If I don’t satisfy him, who am I to stop him from seeking out what he wants?

That had been three or four girls ago… and now this one was laying dead on the stinking carpet next to the bed where the two of them lay.  Bloated, splotchy, wrapped in plastic.  They would need to get the body out of here before it began to stink.

Ryan kissed Chris, moving over him and pinning his hands up by his head.  It wasn’t unusual for the two of them to wake up wanting each other.  Chris was drawn back into the familiarity; the cigarette taste of the inside of Ryan’s mouth was repulsive and yet still seductive, enticing him to remember what he loved so much about the two of them.

Ryan shifted and grabbed Chris by the hips, flipping him over and tugging down his underwear, and in the span of a breath, Chris was ripped out of the serenity.  Again he was in a filthy motel room, with a filthy bed, and a filthy man above him that he used to be convinced he loved.  Maybe Chris was filthy too.

When Ryan entered him, Chris stared off to the side, studying again the dusty and tar-ridden walls, he didn’t want to have to look at the plastic-wrapped body on the ground.

Does he even think of me anymore?  I am just one of them.