#that. AND this guy gets pegged by his wife.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Gravity

[makeyoumine69]

Euphoria (Memory Reboot x2)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: After wrestling with the lingering thoughts of Bateman, you finally found yourself open to Paul Allen's offer — a life-changing opportunity. But despite your resolve, you couldn't shake the need for closure. Determined, you sought one last encounter with Patrick, intent on resolving the unsaid and the undone before the cityscape of New York faded into your past.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, mutual pining, obsessive behavior, desperate & sensual foreplay, anal fingering, pegging, sex toys, face riding, penetrative sex, rimming (Patrick receiving), oral sex (69, blowjobs), edging, biting, spanking, cum shot, masturbating, praise kink, body worship, drug usage, pet names, dirty talk, needy Patrick, misogyny, swearing, gaslighting, manhandling, mind manipulation.

WORDS: 8.7k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Euphoria

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm sorry it took me quite long to write this, I hope you like it! If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [CHAPTER 1].

The clock’s ticking was the only sound in the opulent meeting room of Pierce & Pierce office. Your heart seemed to beat to the rhyme of ticking, while you were nervously spinning the thin cigarette in your hands but never really trying to actually smoke;  the glass ashtray in front of you would probably be left empty till the end of the day. It was even funny how drastically things changed after that…moment of privacy you shared with Bateman. Starting from that, you couldn’t really get him out of your head, even though it has already been several weeks of your pretending game of “nothing had happened” between you and Patrick. It was a matter of time, when your colleagues would start to notice your strange behavior whenever you and Bateman were in one room. 

Squeezing the cigarette between your shaky fingers, you turned around in the leather chair to look at the New York skyline through the wide window. ‘That it is not an exit,’ echoed in your ears and you tried to shake the nervousness off from your tense shoulders, but the more you were being alone, the more surrounding space was weighing on you as if you were on the very bottom of the Pacific ocean. 

The moment the door swung open and Timothy Bryce entered the meeting room, you were more in control of yourself. “Hey, Tim. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Sorry, (y/n). Had a business call with some delusional prick.” Bryce snarled and took a seat across from you.

“Delusional prick?”

"Yeah, you know...delusional," he chuckled and glanced at the cigarette in your hand, which was still more like an accessory. "The guy thought I gave a fuck about his life and his wife, who used to be a whore, by the way."

With a soft snicker, you made yourself more comfortable in your chair, throwing one leg over another. “Wanna smoke?”

“Yep,” he leaned over the table to take the cigarette, your fingers touched for a moment but none of you paid attention. “So, what happened? Why did you want to see me?”

Confused, you took a moment to think about your answer. You worried a lot about picking the right words, but now you were even more anxious. ‘I just need to tell him the truth and that’s all,’ you reassured yourself before turning to face Tim. “Well, the thing is - I’m quitting P & P.”

Tim’s face remained unchanged for a second, but then the man furrowed his brows, tilting his head and rubbing his ear as if he didn’t hear. “You're what? Quitting?”

"Right," you gave him a half-smile and continued. "Recently, I received a very... very good offer from one company in Chicago."

“Jesus Christ. Chicago? Really?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Bryce lit the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. “Who the fuck even gave you this idea? And why so sudden? You have such a good job here, with a good salary and…” He paused and blew a few rings of smoke. “Do those bastards pay well?”

Laughing heartily, you crossed your arms over your chest and watched the smoke dividing the room in two with a white veil. “So many questions. Are you interested in leaving Pierce & Pierce too?”  That was not a serious question, since you knew that Bryce was more than satisfied with his job. “If I say who recommended that place to me, will you keep it a secret?” Tim nodded even before you could say something else. “I was at one P&P party, that one you decided to skip a week ago. So, there I met Paul Allen and we talked a bit and he mentioned that he just came back from his business trip from Chicago…we had a long conversation, but as a result he proposed to me to think about the option to change my current job.”

All the time while you were speaking, Tim was glancing at you with wide open eyes, his prominent brows curling up and down whenever you mentioned Paul Allen’s name. It was always funny for you to watch Bateman & Co getting so frustrated and annoyed whenever Allen was around or whenever someone discussed his success with having the Fisher account. To say the least, his ability to get a reservation at Dorsia. ‘I’m not gonna tell any of them that Allen offered me dinner in Dorsia after that party.’

“So you were unsatisfied with your job all this time and didn’t say anything? That sucks, (y/n). Didn’t expect that to come, not gonna lie,” Bryce made a low sound which was very similar to growling, but at the same time it also sounded like a scoff. “But, if that really is what you want, then who am I to judge you? We have only one life to fulfill all our needs, right?”

Timothy’s statement was like a balm to your soul, that was exactly what you hoped he would tell you and when he did, you felt some kind of relief washing over you like a breeze of fresh air.

“Thank you, Tim,” you finally grinned and put your elbows on the table. “Glad you didn’t start to read me notations.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Him?” You squinted and tilted your head; your intuition was screaming that something was so damn wrong.

“Bateman,” with a sly smile, Bryce put the cigarette out in a glass ashtray; his glance was eloquent but you never really managed to read it. “I bet he will be upset. Very upset.”

“Bryce ” you rolled your eyes. ‘Is he lying or…?’ That question remained unspoken. “Leave these cheesy jabs to yourself, okay?”

Tim only laughed at your weak attempt to threaten him and stood up from the table. “You know, I saw him with Jean in Arcadia last night…” Now this information could come in handy… “I think they had some kind of date or something, huh,” he chuckled again and fixed his tie, giving the picture on the opposite wall a scrutinizing glance. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but something is definitely happening. In my opinion, you should tell him about your…unexpecting leaving, you know.”

Before you could respond, Timothy Bryce looked at you one last time and left the meeting room. Now, you were left alone but not really alone as the weight of the newfound information lay on your shoulders like two massive dumbbells. ‘If everything is too obvious for Bryce, what other things might the others think about me and Bateman?’ That was a rhetorical question mostly, but still you couldn’t even get up from the chair, sensing the strange, chilling fear inside your chest—what if you were mistaken with accepting the offer of a new job?

Gritting your teeth, you snarled and almost kicked the table from beneath, your palms were clenching and unclenching, thankfully no one could see you like this. Swiftly but nervously, you finally stood up and headed out from the meeting room, striving to avoid any of your soon-to-be-ex colleagues on your way to Bateman’s office. 

How many times have you rehearsed the words you were going to say while you were walking up there? Countless. But still, when you entered Patrick's office and saw his lovely secretary, everything inside you froze - words, emotions, even your breath.

“Hi, Jean,” you mumbled, with a half-smile on your slightly tensed face. “Looking good.”

“Uh, thank you,” the blonde woman replied and fixed the stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

As soon as you heard the echo of Patrick's voice through the office door, a lump formed in your throat and you had to cough several times because of the unpleasant dryness.

“Well,” you paused and glanced at the closed door with a nameplate ‘Patrick Bateman’ on it. “You would help me a lot if you let me have a private conversation with your boss.”

“Patrick is,” her voice suddenly wavered, implying that something was wrong. “He’s busy right now.”

“Oh,” you stepped back involuntarily. “Okay, I can come later.”

“No,” Jean replied curtly. “I’m sorry, but today is not an option at all.”

‘Is that some kind of joke?’ You hummed to yourself, already regretting coming here in the first place. “All right then. Have a nice day, Jean.” Turning around you already stepped out from the office when you head her voice:

“(Y/n), wait. Oh, I hope I pronounced your name correctly.” She blushed once you came back inside. “I think I can tell him about your visit, when he will be less busy.”

That offer was not something you would expect. “Actually, that would be nice,” you clicked on your tongue, considering your next steps. “Tell him that I have a reservation at Dorsia at eight o’clock–”

“Today?” Her question cut off your bluffing. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

You just grinned politely in return. “Yep, today. Tell him…that I need to talk with him about business and stuff. And, that it would be probably the last chance for him to catch up with me.” Jean’s eyes widened for a moment, but you reassured her instantly. “No drama, just changing my job.”

“Uh, that was probably a tough decision?”

“Not really,” you winked at her and crossed your arms over the chest. “But don’t tell him about that, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She tried to hide her confusion behind a warm smile but failed. “I’ll tell him that you will be waiting for him at Dorsia tonight and that this conversation is very important.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed and for a moment just stood there, looking at the closed office door. “Thank you, darling. For everything.”

You made a special accent on the word ‘darling’, purposely embarrassing her and leaving no room for any questions and other stuff that would make a current situation even more fucked up. 

After you left Bateman’s office you had to find Allen as only half of what you told Jean was actually bluffing—you knew that Paul had a reservation at Dorsia tonight, considering he was inviting you for dinner. Allen’s strange interest in you wasn’t your top priority at that moment but using it for your sake was something you couldn’t deny at such a situation. So when you finally found Paul in one of the meeting rooms, you persuaded him to give you that reservation, explaining that you wanted to show one of your colleagues Dorsia before you would leave New York and move to Chicago. And even though everyone would find out that that colleague was Patrick Bateman, you wouldn't’ care since you would be far away from here.

A few hours later, the melodious voice of Whitney Houston reverberated off the walls of the opulent living room in Bateman's apartment, the lyrics of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody," which Patrick knew perfectly, striking a chord in his chest every time the song came on.

But today everything was different.

Everything, except some random blonde bimbo who was on her knees between Bateman’s spread legs, sucking his thick cock but not actually giving him any pleasure. Frustrated, the man tugged on her hair without any compassion, bringing her closer, so her nose was almost brushing against his hairy pubis. But almost immediately, the woman began to whimper and claw at the perfect skin of his hips, and he didn't like it.

“What? Already tired?” Bateman sneered and fixated the blonde’s head in one place for a moment by her neck. “Or is that your first time? Then, I’m so fucking honored!"

As soon as the man let the blonde go, she pushed him away and sat back on her ass, breathing heavily. “Are you crazy?” the bimbo inquired and pressed a hand to her half-exposed breasts, her whole appearance looked messy. “I was about…t-to choke on your fucking dick!”

Sighing, Bateman rolled his eyes and just stretched out on the couch, lazily stroking his half-hard shaft. "So, this is your first time?" The woman hesitated to answer, which only made Patrick mock her even more. "Did you tell me that you have a boyfriend? And he works at P&P, right?"

Wiping her mouth with undisguised contempt, the blonde started to get up, but Patrick stepped on the hem of her dress and she almost fell. "Marcus! Stop it!"

"Uh, look at you," the man chuckled, watching her feeble attempts to get up. "Such a pathetic little bitch, pathetic and greedy," the man added, giggling. "Ready to give head to every vice president at Pierce & Pierce! Your boyfriend should be so proud of you."

The woman was on the verge of tears when Bateman finally allowed her to get up and collect her things. She had been in such a hurry that she had left her panties on the glass coffee table. All this gave Patrick much more pleasure than the blonde's inexperienced blowjob.

"Ask your boyfriend to teach you how to suck dicks," he blurted out as the woman rushed into the hallway, rifling through her purse looking for something. "Since he's probably a pro at that sort of thing."

But the girl was already gone. So the man could only laugh to himself, so proud of his cheeky jabs, if only he didn't feel like a schoolboy dreading his upcoming meeting with his teacher. With a heavy sigh, Bateman closed his eyes for a second, his cock was already soft, but his sac were still tense and full of his cum; he felt too unsatisfied with himself, which only made things worse.

What was it even for?

The man could just take some coke, lie down on his bed, close his eyes and think of you—that was enough for him to cum so hard that he had to go to the laundry almost every day because he ran out of sheets. But today was different, considering that Patrick was going to meet you, and not just anywhere, but in fucking Dorsia. It seemed that everyone in this town could get a res there, but not him.

Biting his lower lip, the man looked down at the throbbing cock in his hand - the mere thought of you was making him horny as hell. "Shit…" If only he could reboot his memory and get rid of that scene in the Tunnel. If only. Meanwhile, the Whitney Houston tape continued to play the song "Where Do Broken Hearts Go". Bateman doubted he would be able to masturbate, he was too nervous and stressed out, even imagining you while that bitch was giving him head didn't work. Although it usually did. "Dorsia, huh," the man giggled nervously and checked his Rolex - he still had plenty of time. As if spellbound, Patrick slid to the floor and kicked off his leather shoes, his red tie already loosened and his pants hiked down. Leaning against the couch, Bateman threw his head back and began to jack off, recalling the forbidden, sinful sensations of your hand sliding along his hot flesh. "Mmm-fuck," he moaned and shivered, his free hand already gripping the edge of the white couch, several beads of sweat running down his tense temples. What if today he finally found the courage to confess? Confess that all these days had been a fucking torture for him, that he was ready to crawl on the walls from how much he longed for you, not even physically, but mentally. Maybe, just maybe, your reassurance that everything was not over for him, that maybe he still had a chance to have some normalcy in this cruel world—could change everything?

"Fuck, f-fuck!" Patrick cursed, sensing that his impending orgasm was slipping away from him just by reflecting on the things that were happening between the two of you. Jerking off and thinking about your sexy voice, your hot body and your cheeky smile was one thing, it always turned him on better than anything else, but thinking about the complexity of your relationship… that was not a turn-on for him. Not at all. Cursing to himself, Patrick slicked back his auburn hair and quickly got up to stagger to the bathroom, where he nervously opened the cabinet behind the mirror and found a small white jar of pills. Xanax was his only stress reliever so far. Taking a deep, almost desperate breath, Bateman looked at his reflection, his bloodshot eyes full of tears that threatened to cascade down like a waterfall. "This is not an exit." Patrick told his reflection, but opened the jar anyway and took a handful of pills. Frustrated, unsatisfied, he didn't know how he was going to survive dinner with you, and Dorsia was the last thing on his mind. "Because I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared."

Luckily, the marble walls of his bathroom were the only witnesses to his downfall.

Dawn came to New York faster than you could imagine. All the way to Dorsia you were nervous, but still confident in the plan you had made earlier that day. Even though you had failed in your previous attempt to dot the T's at the Tunnel, today would be different, you were sure of it. ‘I don't even know why, though,’ you chuckled to yourself, and the taxi driver gave you a concerned glance, but you just shrugged it off, signaling him to concentrate on the road.

In the restaurant everything looked the same as when you were here with Paul Allen, but this time you were not the one who was invited, but the one who invited another person—named Patrick Bateman—and speaking of whom, was late and that made you quite anxious. ‘What if he just doesn’t come?’ This thought made you fidget in the chair, your hands fumbling with the napkin on your knees and after telling the waiter for the second time that you were expecting someone else to come, your fingers became cold as if they were frozen. 

“Maybe I can bring you some drinks?” The waiter didn’t give up, spurring you to order at least something to drink.

Quickly running a hand across your strained face, you exhaled loudly and nodded. “Yeah, drinks,” you stummered when you looked past the waiter, noticing the familiar elegant silhouette coming close to your table. “Can you…bring…some water?”

Confused, the waiter glanced down at the full glass of water next to you. “Uh, more water?”

“(Y/n),” Bateman’s voice echoed across the space. “I hope I didn't make you wait for so long,” he chuckled and took a seat at the table. “Had some important business affairs.” The moment he noticed the confused waiter, Patrick gave him his most sassy smile and checked his Rolex for no reason, probably just to show them out. “Can you please bring me a glass of J&B and some fresh salad to your taste.”

‘A salad, really?’ You almost snickered, but instead your face turned into a neutral expression. "Business, huh?"

Bateman rested more comfortably in his chair after the waiter finally left. "You know, some affairs with blonde hair and long legs, big tits and an amazing ass."

That came out of nowhere. 

Still calm, you watched the man across from you smile, surely proud of himself and so damn bossy it was almost absurd. "You mean someone in particular, don't you?"

“Oh, yeah,” Patrick put his both elbows on the table, clasping his hands, revealing his gold Rolex once again. “Her name is Stephany, if I’m not mistaken, she’s a girlfriend of one of our accountants,” the man paused before snickering. “That one who makes monthly reports, you know him. So, I’m a bit late because I couldn't leave such a lovely girl without a treat she deserved.”

Right now, you didn't care if it was true or not—his well-framed—confidence was something you found very interesting and even amusing, as it was proof that he was preparing for this dinner just like you were.

"And that's when I thought vice presidents actually worked at Pierce & Pierce." With a slight grin, you joked and finally took a sip of water, feeling your throat suddenly go dry, just like when you were talking to Jean earlier.

Bateman's sudden laugh rang out like shattered glass. "'C'mon, (y/n), don't pretend you don't know that-"

"I know that your father owns almost half of the company," you interrupted him abruptly, and he wasn't happy about it. "And that gives you certain privileges."

"Don't be envious. It doesn't suit you."

"Envious?" You set the glass of water aside. "I think it was me who invited you here so that you could finally visit Dorsia… at least once."

The air between the two of you was thick with venom and something even more poisonous. Nevertheless, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't think Bateman was acting like the jerk he undoubtedly was. But, to be honest, you expected him to act a little less smug.

"I still think this place is overrated," Patrick hissed through clenched teeth right as the waiter brought him his whiskey and salad with sliced vegetables and some cheese, which he didn't even touch, taking a big gulp of his drink. "So, uh, Jean told me you wanted to talk to me about something important. What is it?"

The waiter didn't even try to offer to check the menu again and retreated, but he would definitely come back later with the same request, since you hadn't ordered anything yet.

"Well, it doesn't seem to matter anymore," you suddenly declared, crumpling the paper napkin before dropping it on the finest tablecloth. "The thing is—I'm quitting P&P and moving to Chicago. That's it. Nothing special, really."

The moment of silence washed over them both like a tidal wave. Visibly shocked, Bateman just sat there, then nervously straightened his tie and looked around as if to call for help. 'Not so ballsy anymore, Patty?' There was something about the way he was humiliated, something that stirred a burning flame in your gut that came dangerously close to burning you alive from the inside. And again, you would be lying to yourself if you pretended you could control it.

"Chicago?" Patrick repeated as if he hadn't heard correctly.

"Why do both you and Bryce react as if Chicago were a desert island?"

"Heh," Bateman rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair. "So Bryce knows everything. Why am I not surprised?"

"I'd tell you more," that was the moment you'd been waiting for so long—the moment of his vulnerability, and you couldn't stop yourself like a shark who sensed blood in the water. "Paul Allen was the one who actually recommended this job to me."

Patrick's jaw clenched at the mention of Paul Allen. "Really?"

"Yes," you continued to corner him. "One day we were having dinner, here, in Dorsia," you grinned, catching every little change in Bateman's no longer confident face. "He said one of his buddies was starting a new company, and they were looking for specialists… like me."

"Well," he began, sliding his hand across the table's surface as if to calm down. "Good for you, (y/n). Congratulations!" That was the most fake 'congratulations' you ever heard, even though you were expecting a slightly different reaction. "But I don't understand. Why didn't you talk to me before? Before you made your decision."

This question almost made you choke. 'Did he really say that?' And just as you were about to answer, the waiter came across the table again, choosing the perfect moment. Before he could offer to check the menu, you raised your hand in an irritating gesture. "Bring me a vodka and orange juice," Patrick's eyebrows arched almost immediately. "Double vodka, please."

"Yes, s-sure." The waiter stuttered before taking the crumpled napkin and walking away, very stressed.

Without giving yourself time to think, you leaned against the table and muttered. "Why should I? We are not friends."

"Of course not," Bateman scowled, crossing his arms over his broad chest, the black pinstriped suit outlining his physique perfectly. "Not after you gave me a decent handjob in the Tunnel bathrooms."

Patrick caught you off guard by injecting this argument so blatantly into the conversation. "Decent? It was fucking amazing." You growled and quickly turned around to see if anyone was paying attention to your table, and when you were sure there was nothing to worry about, you faced Patrick again. "Too amazing, considering you seem to be thinking about it all the time."

"W-what? I… I didn't…"

Sneering, you tapped your fingers on the table in nervous anticipation of your drinks, even though you hadn't planned on drinking any alcohol, wanting to keep yourself as sober as possible for the dinner and everything that might or might not happen afterwards.

"Relax, Bateman," you rested your chin on your clasped hands, finally allowing yourself to examine his handsome appearance, including the way his cheeks were tinged with a red hue. "You've said too much already."

And from that moment on, you began to feel relaxed, even pleased with all the things Patrick revealed to you, accidentally or not, you would use every little detail to your own advantage when the time came.

A little later, when the waiter finally brought your cocktail, you finished it too quickly, so you asked for it to be repeated under the attentive hazel eyes of the man sitting on the other side of the table. The more drunk you got, the more topics you discussed, but when you mentioned Paul Allen again, you noticed that Patrick's good mood was fading.

"Wait a minute!" You held out a hand to stop him from jumping from one topic to another. "Can you tell me why the mere mention of Paul Allen triggers you so much? Is there something between you two?"

Bateman couldn't hold back a loud, hearty laugh. "That joke's too tasteless even for Bryce," he finished his whiskey, the salad still untouched on the table in front of him. "Allen…he's…not the person he tries to pretend to be."

"Oh?"

"I think he's part of that Yale thing."

You narrowed your eyes and leaned in closer. "Yale thing? What do you mean?"

Patrick quickly licked his lips, not expecting you to delve further into the subject. "Well, I think he's probably a closeted homosexual who likes to do a lot of coke and have orgies with male hookers."

At first you just giggled out loud, not caring that some people were looking at you, but then your face suddenly became serious. "How do you know about that? Did he tell you or…" you smiled playfully. "Did he do something… that made you think so," you bit your lower lip and drank the last drop of your cocktail with unabashed thirst. "That sounds strange…very strange."

"You're drunk, (y/n)," Bateman murmured, tilting his hand as if thinking about something. "Too drunk, which gives me the impression that you're as much of an amateur at drinking as you are at doing coke."

"Uh, s-shut up."

"See? Can't even speak words."

"Maybe...maybe I am drunk, now what? Are you gonna be a fucking gentleman like you always try to be and offer me a ride? Or maybe," you fixed your hair nonchalantly, your vision slightly blurred. "Would you be brave enough to show me your apartment?"

As soon as those words came out of your mouth, you knew there was no turning back, and your inner voice, which usually kept you from doing shit you would regret, seemed to fall asleep from the high level of alcohol in your system.

The man across from you straightened up at your bold suggestion, reading the subtext with ease. "Is that what you want? For me to take you to my place?"

His question hung in the air for a moment before you managed to come up with an answer, but you didn't know how to get out of this situation and turn it into a joke, as you usually did. Maybe you just didn't want to get out of it? Just like you didn't want to let him go when he helped you get up from the table after he'd paid for dinner and the two of you were in a cab. Not to mention when you almost fell down and the man caught you in his arms, but there was still a barrier between the two of you—an invisible wall—the only line that kept you apart. The line that was too dangerous to cross, but too tempting not to think about what lay behind it.

By the time the cab pulled up at the American Gardens Building, you were half asleep on Bateman's shoulder, his Lancome cologne not helping at all, making your mind even more cloudy. But you did your best to get out of the car without his help, letting the cool fresh air bring you some relief and clarity. 

In the elevator, Patrick began to mumble about his musical preferences, but you didn't really pay attention because your brain was overworked trying to come up with a plan B in case things went too far. 'As if they hadn't gone too far already,' your inner voice suddenly tried to break through the thick layers of alcohol, affection and uncontrollable desire.

Bateman's apartment looked exactly as you had imagined—opulent, stylish, and very minimalist. Everything seemed to be in its place, including you, standing next to the tall window in his living room.

"Not a bad view," you admitted, taking off the jacket of your suit. "Not Central Park, but not bad at all."

"Central Park?" Patrick asked, hiding in the kitchen, which was perfectly connected to the living room, but you couldn't see him behind the wall as he examined the large number of different kitchen knives.

"Yeah, you know, Paul Allen's apartment faces Central Park, looks really fancy," you didn't mean to hurt Bateman's feelings, but the moment you turned around and saw him, it was obvious that your words had reached him. "But, I really prefer your place...it's more modern for my taste."

Puzzled, Patrick didn't hurry to join you in the living room, his thin fingers never ceasing to slide up and down the sharp blade in his hand, but at the very last moment, the man put the knife back in its place. With deliberate steps, he walked out of the kitchen and approached his stereo system.

"Really?" He asked in disbelief, as if his life depended on your answer.

Such a reaction from him was oddly appealing, the vulnerability, the desperation in his brown eyes. This was a level of satisfaction that no drug could ever match. Meanwhile, Bateman turned on the music, the charming voice of Phil Collins filling the room as "Invisible Touch" began to play.

The man was examining the tape in his hands when you slowly approached and gently cupped his face, inducing him to look at you. "Yes, I do," you confirmed your previous words, and when Patrick didn't flinch from your touch, you decided to go on, tracing your finger along his sensual lips, fighting the urge to kiss them here and now. "Speaking of preferences," you removed your hand only to place it on the lapel of his suit. "Would you be a good boy and give me a full tour of your apartment, including the bedroom?"

In any other situation, you would probably die from shame at saying something like that, but not now. Not with him, because no sooner had your question escaped your lips than you noticed that his hands were shaking, and the CD was about to fall out of them, so you had to gently grab it and pull it out of his hands. Bateman reminded you of a man struggling with addiction, every twitch of his plump lips, every furrow of his perfect eyebrows spoke volumes about the undeniable affection between the two of you, an affection you were both too exhausted to fight and hide.

Without further ado, you placed the CD on top of the stereo and pressed Patrick against the nearest wall, holding the lapels of his Valentino suit and sealing his hot mouth with yours, opening it wider with your tongue, so eager to taste him again after such a long wait.

"Mmhm," he purred into the kiss, his hands desperately wrapped around your waist, then going lower to cradle your hips, groping and squeezing a little too hard so that you had to bite his lip to make him stop, but the man just growled and pushed you closer, your groins rubbing against each other in the most lewd way possible. "Bedroom...go to the bedroom...and wait for me there."

Bateman's words right after the kiss sounded like nonsense, which you found oddly arousing. With a foxy smile, you licked his cheek, then his neck, almost biting the artery and sucking on the reading mark. "No, no, no, Bateman," you shook your head, grabbing his neck slightly to kiss him again, but he did it first. Even now Patrick was trying to take the lead, your tongues fighting for control like two snakes entwining around each other. "I'm in no mood for games or waiting."

The moment you said it, Bateman lifted you with practiced ease as if you weighed nothing, and you didn't even have a chance to protest as he began to move toward the closed room behind his white couch. In his arms, you finally felt complete, even if you let him take the lead for a while. Noticing the pair of panties on the glass coffee table, you wrapped your legs around him and buried your fingers in his silky hair, ruffling them and letting them fall on his forehead, making him look even hotter.

Jesus, you were on the verge of an explosion just from the foreplay alone.

Bateman's bedroom greeted you with stark white walls, the brightness of which was almost painful to look at as he turned on the light holding you with one arm, and the king-size bed on which he carefully placed you, but you didn't let him pull away, tugging at his tie and forcing him to lay on top of you.

"Fuck, look at you," Patrick grazed your earlobe before massaging your chest through your shirt and hovering over you. "So insatiable, aren't you? Running in circles like a trapped kitten."

Growling, you pulled him closer again to suck on his lower lip, letting your body rub against his so you could feel how hard he was, so painfully hard, considering the sound he made when you snaked your hand between his legs to cradle his bulge. "Are you gonna cum in your pants if I don't stop?"

With a determined persistence, you continued to massage his hard cock through the layers of his expensive clothes as you removed his jacket and then his suspenders, one by one. Bateman didn't interfere as he was also busy getting rid of your clothes without actually tearing them apart.

"Let me," you insisted as soon as you noticed him struggling to unbutton your shirt. "This is my favorite shirt, you know," you gasped, your own fingers trembling, making it difficult even for you to finally remove your shirt. "I don't want it to get torn."

When you finally got rid of the top part of your clothes, the sight of your exposed skin made Patrick grunt in hunger, and the next second the man was already sucking on your nipple, his muscular frame shaking on top of you from your teasing ministrations on his twitching dick and hard balls. Damn, you wanted to suck him dry as much as you wanted to ruin him until he forgot his own name.

"Don't like it anyway," Bateman muttered suddenly, holding your hands above your head. "You need to go to some... fashion shows... maybe you will have more free time in Chicago, considering Paul Allen offered you this job. I'm sure it would be some boring shit."

‘Good Lord, he mentioned him again…’ You rolled your eyes and turned away from his face, eliciting a low rumble from Patrick's massive chest. "What the fuck is wrong with Paul... are you... jealous of him or something?"

"Me?" he asked, confused and you took the opportunity to release your hands and roll over so that you were now on top of him. "I'm not the one bragging about having dinner with him in fucking Dorsia!"

Bateman sounded like a little boy who was upset that no one wanted to play with him, which made you giggle, but then you straddled him and opened his white shirt and removed his tie.

"The more you talk," you murmured as you ran your hands along the smooth skin of his torso, paying special attention to his toned pecs and abs. "The more you make me think you two had a history," you leaned down to teasingly lick his lips, your sneaky hands already working on the zipper of his pants. "But still, I don't care." In one swift motion, you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, watching his thick cock pop out, yearning for your attention. "Mhmm, the last time we were alone you worked me up really good, I wanna return the favor," your hands wrapped around the base of his beefy shaft, the small droplets of his pre-cum already covering its tip, forcing you to lick your lips in hunger. "If you have nothing else on your mind?"

Did you really care about his feelings since you asked him that question? 

The man beneath you was definitely growing impatient, his hands gripping your hips as if he was about to imprint his fingerprints on your skin if you were not wearing your pants. 

"Lie on your side," Bateman suggested suddenly. "Take off all your clothes and lie down here," he tapped the spot next to him and you stood up quickly, as if he had cast a spell on you. Never in your life did you get rid of your clothes faster than now. "Uh, what a cute ass you have, (y/n)."

You frowned at his words, giving him your dead stare as you slipped out of your underwear, giving him the full view—the glint in his hazel eyes was too much to ignore—so you turned around and presented yourself to him; Bateman couldn't help but lazily stroked himself, putting a hand under his head. 

"Tell me, Bateman," you began, your hands slowly sliding down your bare skin. "Have you been thinking about me all this time?" You cupped your ass, bending over a little so he could see the spot right between your legs. "Or have you found a way to forget things you don't want to remember?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. "I wish there was a way to forget." Patrick murmured and watched as you lay on your side in the 69 position, then he did the same, his hot breath scorching the soft flesh between your thighs. 

You wrapped your hands around his hips and eagerly took his drooling dick in your mouth, while he was lapping at your crotch. "Mm-fuck," you jerked against his face, your fingers digging deeper into his skin as Bateman feasted on you like the most delicious meal. "Me too, Bateman, m-me too."

Having said that, you swirled your tongue around the swollen tip of his veiny cock, causing a muffled moan to erupt from his mouth, its vibration sending shivers down the base of your spine, only spurring you on to go further, pushing his dick deeper into your mouth. Soon the room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of your shared oral pleasure, punctuated by soft but powerful moans and groans as you both teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Gripping your ass, Bateman responded to your actions with the same passion, devouring every drop of your flavor and giving you no chance to escape, his strong arms like ropes around your body. After giving his cock the attention it deserved, you decided to tease his heavy balls with light lapping on them, before slipping a finger inside his tight ass, you expected him to protest but instead you heard him moan and the next moment his hips began to move towards your penetrating movements.

"Good boy," you praised him, rolling your eyes at the way the man was sucking on your most sensitive spot. "Taking my finger so well..."

The coil in your lower abdomen was about to snap at any moment, but you still wanted more, you wanted to feel that cock inside you, even if it was going to rip you a apart. Breathlessly, you didn't even remember asking him about condoms, and how you managed to get out of bed and go to the closet, where you found a little box Bateman was talking about—its contents almost made you gasp in awe, so you decided to take it with you.

"Well, well," you crooned as you stepped back into the bedroom. "Should I ask you what this is or are you going to tell me?"

With a wide grin, you held out a large purple dildo, Patrick's eyes twitched and he gulped, leaning on his elbows. "I... I use it with hookers," the man confessed, licking his glistening lips covered with your juices. "Why?"

"Hmmm, you like watching women play with it?" You asked as you reached the bed. "How about actually using it and not just watching?"

Damn, you could swear you saw his breath catch in his throat, his muscles tense and his dick throbbing just at the mention of using that sex toy on him. 'So he likes that idea, what a naughty boy,' you chuckled to yourself and took your place on the bed next to him. "This is going to feel so good, baby," you brought the dildo to his lips, suggesting that he lick it for lubrication, and when he did, you could barely keep yourself from cumming, just from the sight of his tongue flicking around the tip of the silicone sex toy. "Get on your knees and let me take care of you."

"Fuck," Bateman cursed, but it was too late to turn back. Embarrassed but extremely aroused, the man got down on all fours and gave you full access to his firm ass, which you immediately fondled, spreading his buttocks and biting them one by one. "Mmh-hmm, (y/n)."

"Relax," you stroked his hips, kissing the lower part of his back just above the dimples that were too sexy to ignore. "God, you have such a beautiful body," you decided to praise him, knowing the effect it would have on him. "I would worship it forever if I could," which was only half true, or maybe...it was not. Leisurely, you showered his soft skin with little peaks here and there, dotting it with your marks of love, not even realizing that you were giving all of yourself to the process.

As you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered muscle ring, Patrick tensed at your touch, gripping the sheets and closing his eyes, so overwhelmed and confused at the same time, but your reassuring hand on his trembling one encouraged him to look back at you as you hovered over him to kiss his lips, his neck, his shoulder.

"(Y/n)," Bateman suddenly huffed through his clenched teeth. "I want you to..." he gasped as you flickered your wet finger around his tight asshole. "...fuck."

"You want me to feast on that delicious ass of yours?" You finished the sentence for him, grinning in pure gratification at his complete submission. "Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, y-yes," he grasped the sheets and positioned himself more comfortably on all fours— a clear sign that he was not used to this position and you couldn't miss it. "I want to feel your tongue... all over me."

"Shit, Bateman, you're a real sweet talker." With that you put the dildo on the bed next to you and before you knew it you were spreading his ass cheeks wide open to make a flat lick along his tight hole. "I wanna hear you," you gently but insistently probed his ass with your warm tongue, giving him several slaps on the buttocks that drove the man wild as you felt his velvet walls tighten around your tongue. "Good boy, c'mon, spread it out for me."

Blushing, Patrick used both hands to spread himself for your eager ministrations as you fucked him with your tongue while your hands traveled all around his hips before you wrapped one of them around his pulsating cock, fuck, he was so close, you could tell by the way his balls tensed when you gave them a slight squeeze.

"Don't cum until I let you," you commented and the next moment you were already pushing the sleek sex toy into his ass and this time he accepted it gradually, taking it in with ease—the sight made you gasp but you focused on giving him pleasure. "Tell me, Bateman, how does it feel?"

The question remained unanswered for a brief moment as you began to slid the dildo in and out, stimulating his prostate and causing him to shake and whimper in pure bliss, but when you decided to add fuel to the fire by jerking him off and sucking on his strained sac, Patrick could barely contain himself, his legs about to give way at any moment.

"F-fuck, a-aahhh, mmhhmm," he murmured into the pillow, his hands finding their way to your messy hair, gripping them almost to the point of pain. "I...c-can't...hold...it any longer," Bateman's wailing bounced off the walls of his luxurious bedroom, which had never seen anything like it before. "I..."

Though you wanted him to last longer, you were too overwhelmed yourself, feeling the string in your belly ready to burst. "Let it go," your words were like a balm to his ears as, just a moment later, his cock pulsed in your grasp, spraying loads of his thick cum across the Chinese sheets that Patrick had always been so fond of. "That's it…" You didn't stop fucking him with a dildo, nor did you stop pumping his throbbing dick, milking it until the last drop of his seed. "Good boy, you're such a good boy." 

Panting, you pulled out the sex toy, covered in his slick, and brought it to his trembling lips, inducing him to suck it before taking it into your mouth, feeling the mixture of tastes on the tip of your tongue. Then, Bateman rolled onto his back, desperately gasping for air, his cock still hard. That was fucking phenomenal, but you didn't comment, thinking about your own orgasm at last. Locking your eyes with Patrick's hazel ones, you touched yourself the moment he beckoned you over, and without words, you mounted his flushed, sweaty face, riding it as desperately as you could, using his tongue and lips without shame. Tilting your head back, you grabbed his head and almost clawed at his scalp, feeling your insides about to fucking explode from the tension. So when you peaked, your scream could be heard all over Bateman's apartment. The orgasms you had before were nothing compared to this. It took everything from you, it made you die and rise again.

The final chord of the parade of shameless lust was when you let him fuck you in a way you didn't even expect. Spooning you from behind after he put the condom on, the man lifted your leg and sheathed himself inside of you till the hilt, making you feel so full you had to wrinkle the fabric underneath, but that was just the beginning as Bateman pulled you closer, trapping you in his arms like a cocoon, his tongue sliding around your ear shell with undisguised affection,

"Mmhmm, fuck, you're...so perfect," the man whispered into your ear, setting up the pace and resting his hand between your legs for extra stimulation. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming again, omh-shit..."

"Fuck m-me, yeah, just...l-like that...a-ahhh," you coaxed him to fuck you harder as you suddenly found yourself on the verge of climaxing again. "Gimme everything, baby, a-awww...goshhhhhhhh," you were the first to fall over the principle of pleasure, twitching along his body as if you were hit by the electric shock, all your nerves were on fire. "Bateman, mmhm-fuck-fuck! Your dick feels s-so good.."

Your vivid orgasm became the last straw for his second release as you felt him bite at your neck, his buffed frame shaking in spasms of pure rapture, you even had to hold back a scream from how painfully Patrick's hands squeezed your hips, but it was pleasurable pain of being ruined, of being fucked into a wet mess. Barely breathing, you didn't even remember how you passed out from exhaustion and for the first time in the last few days you fell asleep completely satisfied and happy.

When the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds into Bateman's bedroom, you were already awake, as was he, but since you were lying with your back to his face, you didn't notice until the man kissed your shoulder, snuggled up against your neck, and made you roll over to face him.

As you did so, you dared to look directly into the brown eyes still clouded by the aftermath of your shared pleasure. "Hey." He muttered in a husky voice.

"Hey," you murmured back, hugging the pillow. "Did you sleep well?"

“Surprisingly—yes," the man stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and checking himself in the mirror on the other side of the room, which you hadn't even noticed. "(Y/n), I want you to go to the office and tell everyone that you're not going anywhere."

Shocked, you blinked several times, not knowing what to say as you hadn't expected anything like this.

With a nervous chuckle that turned into a hearty laugh, you rolled onto your back before sitting up on the bed. "Oh God, you're such a little Delulu, it's even funny," you looked at him—his face was nothing but a blank space without any visible emotions. "Did you really think that random sex would change my mind about changing jobs?" You chuckled again, louder this time. "I mean, the sex was really good, but... it's not like I'm going to give everything for this, you know?" With that, you got up from the bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself. "Can I take a shower?”

Trapped in the thought that only he could know, Patrick rolled onto his back, his eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling above him. "Yes," he murmured, barely audible. "Do whatever you want."

Walking towards the bathroom, you suddenly stopped and turned half around. "You better forget it," you said, savoring every word and finally returning the favor. "Maybe ask Paul Allen for advice," you grinned as you watched Bateman close his eyes in a feeble attempt to distance himself from everything that had happened. "Maybe he knows something about memory reboot machines that can help."

Without waiting for his answer, you continued on your way to the bathroom. Even though you were pleased with yourself, your revenge didn't taste sweet, but bitter, and its bitterness would remain on the tip of your tongue even after you washed yourself clean under the hot streams of water.

But the game was worth the candle, as they said.

Was it?

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[brothermoth]

I don't understand why people call John Marston stupid. He isn't dumb, he's barely functioning day to day and it's not HIS fault that whacky shit keeps happening to him. How would YOU react if your family turned into zombies after just going through like a billion Herculean trials to get them back???? That man is so checked out from reality that shit happens and he has no choice but to go "ok" and move on from that. John Marston has a customer service worker's ability to simply dissociate and complete tasks on auto pilot. He's not Arthur "helpful and kind" Morgan. He's a bitter fuck who does not give two shits about anyone he wants to get his beloved wife back so she can peg him and he wants to get his bitch ass emo son back so they can communicate poorly and take turns doing stupid nonsensical shit to give Abigail more stress in her life. He's just a Guy okay and I love him he's The Dad of All Time and I think he makes stupid fucking decisions but so do I and that's okay he's doing his best.

[eith0r]

Team 7 x gn!Reader ♡

!Sfw and nsfw! Aged up!

Naruto

Sfw:

- Ramen dates

- poor boy is touch starved

- you guys didn't kiss for a really long time because he was scared of it

- it basically feels like you two are friends but with more cuddles

- he doesn't let you go on missions alone, he just doesn't wanna lose you to

- overprotective

- "hey pokie" read it in jirayas book

Nsfw:

- he's inexperienced but he absolutely refuses to be bottom

- everything he knows about sex is from Jiraya and Kakashi

- he loves blowjobs, ofcourse receiving

- he has absolutely no idea what he's doing but he's not gonna show it

- every time you would put his clothes on after doing it he would get horny

-he can go for hourse and he will go for hours

- around 15 cm, pretty average

- "You're so pretty"

- he would accidentally call you slut without knowing what it means but after you told him what it means he told you sorry thousand of times

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

Sasuke

Sfw:

- he doesn't look like he would care much but as soon as you're near someone else you're fucked

- he wants you to sleep at his place as much as you can

- Sasuke needed some time to get used to being affectionate but once he was used to it he wouldn't let you go

- You're gonna be his house wife no matter what your gender is

- he's not really romantic but he tries

- he loves seeing you in his clothes, he won't show it, but he loves it

- "babe/baby"

Nsfw:

- he marks you up everywhere. Bites, hickeys, spanking marks

- the first time he was actually really gentle, after that he was rough tho

- he loves when your loud for him

- he doesn't want others to hear you but if someone flirts with you or something like that he will male you scream out his name

- reverse cowgirl. He just absolutely loves how your ass looks like that, bouncing up and down as you move

- 17 cm and really thick

- "you little slut, want ne to make you scream, hm? Make everyone hear that your taking my dick so well?"

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

Sakura

Sfw:

-she's really romantic and loving

- picknick dates or watching the sunset together

- she loves to cook with you

- she panick as soon as you get one single bruise or even just catch a cold. She will always take care of you

- she loves when you're willing to try on her dresses or let her do your make up. Ofcourse she wouldn't force you if you're uncomfortable with it but she still would be happy

- Sakura would hit anyone who says just one bad thing about you

- "sweetheart, you're so beautiful today"

Nsfw:

- she's a switch

- she would gladly peg you

-she always tells you how good you're doing

- you two have some hickeys from each other

- you two have vanilla sex, if you both agree to it tho you guys would experiment

- she's not particularly loud, she does praise you a lot

- Sakura was the first women you ever saw naked so ofcourse you got flustered. She was flattered by it and just giggled

- if you're able to produce sperm you two would try for a kid, ofcourse only later on

- "sweetheart, you're doing so good, it feels perfect"

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

Kakashi

Sfw:

- he loves teasing you

- he would have you sit on his lap like a plushie while he continues to read his book

-he loves to pet you and he loves to be petted

- he would show you off to everyone

- You're one of the only people who get to see him without a mask

- he would just kiss you in public with his mask on

- he always gets you little presents

-he loves to be the little spoon

- he has matching clothes with you

- he's really romantic and he would anything for you

- "my kitty, how are you?"

Nsfw:

- he would force you to read out his book while he does everything to you that stands in the book

- he's gentle but if you just say the words 'rougher'/ 'harder' once you're gonna get destroyed

- he teases you and edges you for hours before actually fucking you

- he has the best aftercare

-he would make you wear his mask or blindfold you

-he loves doggy and lotus a lot, it all depends on his mood

- 19 cm and really thick

- cockwarming while he reads

- "wanna ride me again kitty?"

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Hey babe! Now that I can jump into people's bodies, Im looking for someone you can play around with tn💙 How do u feel about this handsome guy? I found him at the mall

I feel so strong and dominant walking around in this cop! 👮 if you want I can drive his patrol car to your office and give you a police escort home? Or I could just wait 🙄 Id love using this officer's body to scare some sense into those annoying neighbors of ours...

Wow, babe!

You sure know how to turn my day around! My jerk-of-a-boss is making me stay late again! I'd love to rip the uniform off that cop as soon as I get home, but I might be here awhile.

Hmm...

Maybe this lil army boy will change your mind! I pulled him over while wearing that cop, and I literally drooled when I saw him 😜🫡 I ordered him to step out of the vehicle so I could pat him down, and he had to do it! Anyways, I left the cop somewhere on the highway. What do ya think of this new body? I definitely like wearing him...

Wow, babe, just wow! That is one stud of a soldier. I'd love to thank him for his service, but that doesn't change the fact that I've got to finish these files by Monday. Sorry.

Youre gonna work yourself to death babe! But fine 😭 I'll just have to entertain myself tonight. Wonder what that annoying neighbor of ours is up to...

Omg, babe! I just jumped into our neighbor, and he's at work🤯👷

Check out the massive gut on this man! He's such a pig! That wife of his must be a great cook when shes not nagging us about HOA violations! Should I call her as her hubbie and start some drama lol...

Definitely, do not do that!

He may be annoying, but you don't need to end his marriage, babe.

Fine, but can I at least embarrass him in front of his coworkers? This guy could use a real humility check

Do whatever you want with him, babe. I think he could be brought down a peg. Take your time, too! I've got a few more hours left at the office unfortunately.

Ugh! Lemme see if I can change that...

There 😤

I just found that boss of yours and jumped in his body! Now I order you to come up to his office and air all your frustrations with me...

Woah! I'm running!

While I'm up there we're filing some paperwork to give me a raise and more vacation days!

Oh he'll give you everything you want with a sweet little BJ to show his appreciation 🤑👅 just hurry. Your boss is on his knees waiting...

[yetanotherhiddlestoner]

You move into a new neighborhood and have one hell of a hot neighbor. 

(I tried to find out how long Negan and Lucille were married but couldn't find it, if anyone knows please correct me.) NO BREAKOUT! WARNINGS~ P in V, fingering, licking, smut, pregnancy (just in case), hair pulling, swearing, If i missed any sorry. No beta reader, any mistakes are mine alone.

WORDS~ 2354

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a year since Lucille had passed for Negan, and he never thought about moving on after losing his wife. 

That was until you moved in next door. The day you moved in, you had smiled and waved at him as he smoked his cigarette next to his bike that he had been working on when you drove up the road.

That day he watched you as you picked up heavy boxes and crates refusing the help that the men offered you. He pegged you to be a hardworking, no shit taking type of woman. He peaked over when you and a guy were raising your voices to have a disagreement about something, he liked how you stood your ground up against a man who was much larger than you. The sun started to set, and he watched as the trucks drove away and you walked inside the house, the porch light flickering on as you closed the door.

Negan could see you close your bedroom blinds but still your silhouette showed what you were doing, Negan couldn't help but watch as the dark shadow took of pieces of clothing, he should stop watching, stop being a creep, but he couldn't. He went to bed that night with his fist gripping his cock thinking of you.

The next morning you were up bright and early, ready to go for a run around the neighborhood. You got into your running shorts, sports bra and sneakers and started stretching on the porch, it was a quiet street, you took the chance to look over to your neighbor's house. He had been outside most of yesterday, two things caught your attention, the first his bike and the second how handsome his was. During moving in yesterday you found yourself glancing his way as he lay on the ground, fixing something underneath the bike, the way the shirt rode up a little showing off his happy trail. The way he would roughly wipe the grease off his hands, your mind wandering to those big hands wrapped around your body, inappropriate to think about seeing how you were just moving in. 

You started your run slow around the block, noting the streets and where they lead to, making a daily run plan in your head. Turning the corner to your street you see your neighbor outside once again working on his bike, you slowed as you approach him. "Morning" you say as you slow to a stop.  Negan stands up from his bike, wipes his hands on the rag and smiles at you. "Morning. You're certainly up early, names Negan, seems to me that we are neighbors" he says gruffly. "Yeah, we are, names Y/N. I saw you yesterday out here, she yours?" I nod to the bike. "Oh yeah I took her off my mate a while ago, needs a little TLC but she'll be up and running soon." "That good to hear." I smile at you. "So far you're the only neighbor I've seen out so early." Negan laughs, "The neighborhood is sort of filled with older folk, you and I are the oddballs here. Most of them come out in the afternoon when it starts cooling down." "Oh true, it's a nice area, was lucky to get this place, seemed like it was a popular house." Negan couldn't help but stare at you, looking you up and down as you chatted away. "You wanna come inside for a coffee or tea?" Negan offers throwing the rag over the bikes seat. "Yeah, I could go for a coffee, as long as I'm not interrupting your day?"

"Nah you're all good love." Negan chuckles and leads you inside. His house is nice and neat, you look around as he leads you to the kitchen. "Take a seat, I'll put the kettle on." You sit down at the counter and smile and watch him as he grabs the coffee cups. "Should have asked this earlier, but you got a girlfriend or wife that might get upset about another woman in her house with her man?" You speak softly. Negan places the cups down, along with the spoons, coffee and sugar. He looks at you and smiles weakly.

"I am a widower. Lost my wife just over a year ago to cancer." "I am so sorry; I didn't mean to make you up...." Negan interrupts you. "It's fine you didn't know; I get it you don't wanna be making enemies the first day you move in." He continues "Lucille well she would have loved you I think, she barely spoke to any of the people here, a young girl like you would have been perfect to talk to take on shopping trips, you know all that." Negan chuckles. "She sounds amazing. How long were you married for?" You ask as he grabs a photo of her off the fridge, you study it. They looked so happy. "Oh man would have been about 10 years." "Well, you look happy in this photo" You hand it back to him and smile. "I was, been down in the dumps since losing her. What about you? You got a man I should be worried about?" "Hell no, single as shit." You say as you watch him mix the coffee, milk and sugar with the spoon, "It's the reason I wanted to start new, new place, new men to check out, you know" You take the coffee cup from his hand and thank him.

"Bad break up?" He asks taking a sip. "Abusive ex, so yeah and no, the breakup was well and truly needed." "Fucking pathetic male hitting women, would never lay a hand on a woman in that kinda way." Negan says getting angry. "Well, he didn't like it when I finally snapped and knocked him the fuck out, he went to his side chicks house, and I hightailed it out of there."  "Abusive and a cheater, how the fuck did a nice girl like you get with that kinda guy?" "He was my brother's mate, we met at teens, hooked up and only when we lived together, he got abusive and controlling." 

Negan just nods and continues to drink his coffee, staring at you. "What?" You ask smiling. "Nothing, just can't believe some fucker would raise his hands to the likes of you." He rounds the counter getting closer to you. "He taught me one thing, how to stand up for myself." You say, almost in a whisper. Negan's hand comes out and gently touches your face, his thumb gently brushing across your cheek. You breathe hitches as you lock eyes with him. You take in the salt and pepper hair, his facial hair, the way he smells like gasoline and cologne.  "Y/N I know it's wrong, I just met you, but I can't explain why I felt drawn to you." You blush at his words; you felt the same. Since you laid eyes on him yesterday it was hard to not think about him.  "Please tell me you feel the same" He moves his face closer to yours. "I do" you respond, moving your face closer, your lips almost touching. He sighs and, in a blink, his lips are on yours, kissing you deeply. Your hands grip his chin, nails digging into his skin. His hands one travels to your neck, the other travels to your hair, gripping it tightly. Making you gasp as he pulls it. Negan slid you off the stool into his arms, never breaking the kiss as he made his way carefully to his bedroom. He kicked the door close behind him and walked over to the bed, placing you down gently, crawling on top of you, his hands making quick work of his shirt, tossing it to the side of the bedroom. You look down at his bare chest. He sat up and you followed him, your hands reaching out to touch the small amount of chest hair he had in the middle of his chest. You smiled up at him as you kissed his chest, working your way over to his nipple, you take it between your teeth biting it, getting a groan out of him.

Negan couldn't help the noises he was making, your teeth gently grazing over his chest, nipples and neck were so good. His arms wrapped around you as you moved close, nibbling your way up.

"Shit" he moans. You smile at him and start to undo your sports bra "I seem to be a little overdressed" you whisper, his hands stills yours.  "Allow me to fix that" He says pushing you back down to the bed, ripping the zipper of your bra down harshly, you move your arms out of the holes and it disappears into the room, at this point you don't care.

Next to go were your pants, Negan isn't gentle with them either, he grips both pants and underwear and pulls them down, tossing them, leaving you naked under him, you can see his pants are struggling to hide the erection he has going for you. "Fuck your beautiful" He says kissing your inner thighs, making you giggle a little.  "Sorry, it's the facial hair" you explain when he looks up at you and raises an eyebrow. Negan smiles and keeps kissing you, moving up closer to your wet core. The giggles turn into gasps as his tongue licks your slit. Not going inside, just teasing you. Your hand reaches out to his hair, gripping it, you try and push his face down, but he stops you. "Needy little bitch, aren't you?" He growls, his words turning you on more. You were never one for dirty talk, usually it would turn you off but when he says it, it's doing the exact opposite, feeling yourself get wetter from not only his tongue but your own want. You moan as he uses two thick fingers to spread your lips and his tongues circles your clit, you arch your back at the pleasure. Negan keeps licking adding the twonfibgers thay held your pussy opened to him, you feel filled with those two digits pumping inside you. He keeps licking your clit when fucking yoi with his fingers, first gently, then getting rougher and rougher, until you tell the orgasm you been building releases and he laps it up like his life depends on it.  When he moves over you, his face is wet with your juices. You smile at him and he brings his face closer "Go on baby, taste yourself" Negan waits for you to move closer to him, to kiss him, your tongue licking at your cum. "Fucking sweetest pussy I have ever tasted" He growls, he sits back as he undoes his pants, just enough to release his cock and line it up to your enterance. He kisses you deeply as he slides into your pussy, you gasp having to adjust to his size.  But once he is fully seated inside you he doesn't move. You both lay there, panting. "Such a nice warm little pussy, I think Ill just let you warm it a bit before I fuck you senseless." He smiles as you try to move your hips, desperate to fuck him but he stops your tries. Smacking you on the side of your ass "Naughty girl. Can't you wait a little bit?" "No" you whisper. Negan laughs as he pulls out, almost all the way only to push himself back into you fast, getting you to gasp and moan. He continues this torture. Out.......slowly. In....hard......out.....almost all the way, just the tip toying with your pussy. In hard, his balls slapping your skin. Your moans mix with his, the pleasure building up again. It wouldn't take to long for you to come again. Negan's thrusts were getting erratic, he couldn't hold off the oncoming orgasm much longer.  "Negan please....." "You close baby girl? You close?" Negan grunts thrusting again hard. "Mmmmmm yeah...." You moan, you feel yourself start to tighten.

"Oh my god, your gonna fucking milk me baby?" Negan says, going faster.  It takes 3 more thrusts and your cumming around his cock, arching your back as your pussy grips on to his cock as he continues pounding into you. Negan grunts loudly and moans as his movement stop and you feel his cock pumping inside you, releasing his seed into you.

He rolls off you, but bringing your body closer to his as he lays there, coming down from the high. Negan laid there, his heart racing, he could feel yours beating underneath his arm, causing him to smile. "Just know I don't usually jump into bed with neighbors" You say after a few minutes of silence. "Neither do I, but I just couldn't help myself." Negan kisses your neck.

"What happens now?" You ask.

2 YEARS LATER. You sit on Negan's lap as you watch another set of neighbors move into the street, the street was starting to get a lot of young folk. You lean back and smile as Negan nibbles your skin.  "That was you two years ago baby girl" Negan says as his hand toys with the helm of your shirt, gently rubbing over your swollen belly.  "Sure was." Your hand entwined with his. To some you and Negan moved fast into this relationship, within 6 months you were moving in with him, at 8 months he purposed marriage to you, 12 months you had a small wedding with your family attending. Now you sit on his front porch, 6 months pregnant expecting twins, a baby boy and a baby girl.  "I'm glad I moved into this street, I'm glad we met that day on my run."  You tell him.  "Oh trust me darling the feeling is very mutual." Negan says pulling your hair, making you arch back to give you a deep kiss. "Fuck" you whisper knowing that that alone was turning you on.  "Let's go inside baby" Negan says standing up with you in his arms, not allowing you to walk. You start kissing his neck as your wrap your arms around his neck. 

[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids: Escapades

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: everyone’s favorite grid family takes on their biggest challenge yet … an escape room

Series Masterlist

“Alright, who thought it would be a good idea to lock a bunch of F1 drivers in a room and expect them to work together to get out?” Charles grumbles, eyeing the cryptic clues scattered around the dimly lit space.

George smirks, picking up a coded message. “Well you’ve had plenty of practice trying to decipher Ferrari’s strategy lately, so maybe you’ve got an advantage here?”

The room erupts in laughter as Charles feigns a wounded expression. “Low blow, George! Do I not suffer enough already?”

Lando, fidgeting with what looks like an ancient artifact, suddenly blurts out, “Do you think this is like a button or something?” Before anyone can respond, there’s an audible snap and the artifact falls apart in his hands.

“Seriously, Lando?” Max exclaims, shaking his head in amusement. “First my trophy, now this? Hands off everything, please!”

You chuckle, patting Lando’s back consolingly. “It’s alright. Maybe breaking things is part of the puzzle?”

Lance, busy trying to fit a square peg into a round hole, adds, “At this rate, we’re never getting out of here.”

Mick, focusing on a puzzle piece, comments, “We’ve only got an hour, guys. Let’s get serious.”

Sebastian begins delegating. “Alright, George and Max, you handle the codes. Mick, Charles, focus on the physical puzzles. Lance, Lando — just ... try not to break anything else.”

As the room buzzes with activity, you can’t help but think that this is one of the best ideas you’ve had in a while. It’s hilarious watching these fiercely competitive drivers work together in a situation that doesn’t involve cars and tracks.

After a series of (mostly) successful problem-solving attempts, a loud buzzer sounds, indicating you’re out of time. The doors swing open, revealing a grinning staff member.

“You were only one clue away!” she exclaims, clapping. “Not bad for a first attempt!”

Max looks around the room, a smirk forming. “Well, if Lando didn’t break that artifact, maybe we would’ve made it.”

Lando throws his hands up defensively. “Hey! I added character to the room.”

Everyone bursts into laughter, making their way out. Another day, another adventure — this one off the track.

***

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sebastian mutters, amusement evident in his eyes, as he steps into the living room. There are strings hanging from the ceiling, makeshift locks on the furniture, and “cryptic” clues pinned everywhere, like Look UNDER the couch, accompanied by a not-so-subtle arrow pointing downwards.

You, equally surprised and amused, chuckle. “What in the world happened here?”

Charles steps forward, barely containing his laughter. “Welcome to the Grand Prix Escape Room! Guaranteed to be at least 90% more escape-able than the one we failed at.”

George adds, pointing to a padlocked fridge, “I did the food clues. Trust me, they’re the most challenging.”

Max chimes in, “And Lando ... well, we didn’t let him touch anything breakable this time.”

Lando mock-pouts, “One little accident and suddenly I’m the family menace.”

Lance hands you a paper that reads The KEY to success is WHERE you eat BREAKFAST. He grins, “That’s my contribution. Top tier clue, right?”

Mick has a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “I suggest you look in very obvious places. We wouldn’t want this to be too hard.”

As you and Sebastian navigate through the hilariously straightforward challenges — like the “hidden” key taped directly next to the padlocked fridge or the note on the oven saying THIS IS NOT A CLUE, just wanted to remind you we have pie — it becomes clear that this isn’t about the challenge at all.

It’s about laughter, family, and the simple joy of being together.

After an entertaining fifteen minutes, which involves Sebastian dramatically pretending to struggle with a code that's simply “1234,” you successfully escape.

Mick raises a toast with room temperature champagne (they forgot to place it in the fridge before it was padlocked), “To the greatest escape artists in the world!”

You laugh, “And to the best, most creative grid kids in the universe!”

***

You wake up to the soft chimes of your alarm, stretching lazily before noticing an envelope on your bedside table. Scrawled on it in mismatched rainbow crayons is Mission: Breakfast Heist.

Opening the note, you read:

Dear Y/N and Seb,

Your breakfast has been stolen! To get it back, follow the clues and embark on a thrilling adventure. Also, no cheating by ordering takeout!

The Breakfast Bandits (aka your grid kids)

Amused, you head downstairs, following a trail of strategically placed toast crumbs. In the kitchen, you find another note taped to the coffee machine: To get your morning brew, tell us a joke that’s new!

Sebastian, rubbing sleep from his eyes, joins you and declares, “Why did the coffee file a police report? It got mugged!” Mick appears from behind you, making both of you jump, and hands you two cups of coffee before backing away silently.

Chuckling, you move on to find that on the fridge, instead of a padlock, there’s a touchpad with a question on its digital display: What’s hot yet cool at the same time?

You ponder it for a moment, thinking of all the possible answers. Sebastian, catching on to the playful challenge set by the grid kids, smirks and says, “It’s the Iceman, isn’t it?”

You both laugh, with you playfully nudging Sebastian, “I always knew you thought Kimi was hot.”

Entering K-I-M-I on the touchpad, the fridge beeps in agreement and swings open, revealing a lavish breakfast spread and a note that reads: Breakfast is served! We might have kept it under lock and key but only to make it special. Enjoy!

From the doorway, the “Breakfast Bandits” applaud, their faces beaming with mischief.

Lance grins, “Took you long enough! And Seb, never knew you had a thing for Kimi.”

Charles joins in the teasing, “Seems like there are still some secrets in the paddock!”

Sebastian playfully rolls his eyes, “At least my secret doesn’t involve singing into a hairbrush every night before bed.”

Charles blushes as the room bursts into laughter. “Who told you about that?” he exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Lando, who’s trying hard (and failing miserably) to stifle his giggles.

Lando attempts to defend himself through his laughter, “It wasn’t me! But if we’re confessing, who knew that Seb’s haircare routine involved more products than all of ours combined?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. “Gotta keep the locks looking good, don’t I?”

Max interjects, “Well, if we’re on the topic of secrets, who wants to bet on how many stuffed animals Lando has on his bed?”

Lando gasps dramatically, “Betrayed by my own brothers! Next time, I’m hiding them all in George’s room!”

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #5582:

Listen, top/bottom discourse is a clusterfuck but to me it all boils down to three things:

1. 14 year olds heard about it and started going "omg i'm such a bottom! ><" 'cause they're an introvert and then wanna get mad at people for "sexualizing" terms that BEGAN as sexual terms

2. Assigning a personality to a person based on which body parts they want stimulated during sex is on the level of Astrology or phrenology shit but also kinda just accepted

3. People tend to overly conflate who holds more power in a relationship with who does the penetrating during sex which is kinda just hetero-patriachal ideals repackaged (i.e. another way of asking "who the man in the relationship is") which is why when a guy respects his wife or gf we say he "gets pegged."

None of this is to say DON'T, do whatever and have fun with it, I love a good "loving bf gets pegged by his cool gf" as much as anyone, but maybe just stuff to keep in mind?

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

What Your Favorite Milgram Ship Says About You!

if you saw this posted earlier, no you didn't ^-^ Disclaimer: Everything in this post is a joke. Politely, please do not turn it into a genuine ship discourse post. Would you really do that to me? a silly little guy who simply wishes to be silly?

Haruka/Muu: You are constantly in a trenches defending your commonly misinterpreted favorite characters with your fucking life.

Haruka/Fuuta: Your ideal relationship dynamic is the "His pronouns are they/them!" meme, with a side of Doomed Yaoi for flavor.

Yuno/Kotoko: You think that both of them would be fixed if they just kissed a girl.

Yuno/Mahiru: This is the same joke as Yuno and Kotoko, but with the added factor that you desperately want your future partner to take you out to a cute cafe.

Fuuta/Mikoto: In every fandom you join you, without fail, start shipping the first two male characters with a somewhat interesting dynamic.

Fuuta/Kotoko: You would let a woman physically abuse you if she looked hot while doing it. It's alright, this is a safe space.

Fuuta/Yuno: You are severely disappointed in the lack of male tsunderes.

Muu/Rei: You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of a lesbian situationship.

Muu/Yuno: Your ideal relationship dynamic is just…girls being friends. Gals being pals. Besties, historians would say.

Muu/Es: Your favorite romance trope in fiction is when the usually calm and serious one gets flustered and blushy over their crush

Shidou/Mahiru: You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of saving someone's life, and your ideal relationship dynamic is MEN 👏 GETTING 👏 PEGGED 👏

Shidou/His Wife: You have on at least one occasion called Shidou a malewife. Shidou/Mikoto: Your favorite male character in any media you watch is always the older working man who doesn't look like he's gotten a day of sleep in his life and also probably gets called a sopping wet cat.

Mahiru/Kotoko: Your ideal relationship dynamic is that one scene from Class of 09 ("you wanna be sexed up abusive lesbians?").

Mahiru/Fuuta: You think that every anger issues-riddled boy needs a ray of sunshine to balance them out.

Mahiru/Mikoto: You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of horoscopes. Mahiru/Mikoto/Fuuta: You fucking eat slice of life college AUs like they're a full course meal.

Mahiru/John: You like the dynamic of Mahiru/Fuuta, but you like John more. Kazui/Hinako: You just want good things for Hinako, and really, who wouldn't?

Kazui/Shidou: You just want good things for Kazui, and really, who wouldn't?

Kazui/Mikoto: I think you just want to fuck Kazui.

Kazui/Fuuta: Oh you REALLY want to fuck Kazui. Kazui/Shidou/Mikoto: You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of smoke breaks.

Kazui/Mahiru: Your ideal relationship dynamic is Team Mom / Team Dad.

Amane/Anyone: https://youtu.be/wf9k3heENYc?si=xhcAjtzpnqOts-1f

Mikoto/John: You just want good things for John, which in all fairness, probably could've saved us a lot of trouble.

Mikoto/Kotoko: You either want one of them to put you on a leash, or you want both of them to put you on a leash. There's no in-between. John/Kotoko: You are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of beating each other's asses.

Milgram/Therapy: You are the only correct person in this fandom.

[velnoni]

any romantic/nsfw headcanons for stanley pines in a relationship with a trans man who has top surgery already? can be young or old stanley, it doesn't matter

Admittedly, I've never written for a trans male reader, so I hope this came out good. Hope you enjoy it!

Stan Pines x Trans Male Reader

His dating pool is quite minimal if we're being honest here but when he meets you he's genuinely embarrassed, trips over his words a bit, and sweats more than normal. Definitely has the hots for you.

Over the years he's mellowed out and accepted that he could be into guys as well, keep in mind this is a fella who grew up in the 50s so expect him to be a bit nervous or rough around the edges. He shows a genuine interest in you and tries to woo you by giving a tour of the Myserty Shack, ending on the note of giving you his personal number.

Enjoys showing you off. Does not care for the age gap if there is one. Truth be told, he hadn't realized how lonely its been all these years. He really likes giving you kisses on the forehead or sneaking up behind you to tickle your sides in the morning. Will proudly grab your shoulder or waist in public and wiggle his eyebrows to make you laugh or get flustered.

In regards to your top surgery scars, he won't ask too many questions except for maybe did it hurt or how long it took to heal. If you ever feel uncomfortable about it or how they look, he'll smile gently before raising his own wife beater to show his aged body littered with scars, each one with stories from his younger days. Claims that you're both matching.

"They ain't somethin' to be worried about trust me." And he genuinely means it. He's not gonna pretend to know what you been through or force a story outta you. But just wants you to feel comfortable in your own skin, especially around him. Life is too short to be worrying unless you hear sirens.

He does like to kiss the scars or touch them. He likes how they feel under his fingertips.

He'll call you handsome, beefcake, cutie, or a shortened version of your name as terms of endearment. Wonders if it's appropriate to buy flowers for guys, too. He's a bit old school and might get you a bouquet of daises for the first date. If you do that for him, he'll nervously laugh and accept the flowers. If his eyes are watering no they're not.

On slow days, when it's just the two of you laying in bed, he likes to cuddle and caress your happy trail if you have one. If not, then he'll run his hands alongside your belly till he doses off.

nsft under the cut

He likes to top as it's something he's more used to and will gladly eat you out if asked. Enjoy when you wear more revealing outfits near him because his body will act like a hormonal teenager around you.

He's pretty good with his tongue and fingers, a bit on the rusty side, but enjoys hearing your moans when he slips his fingers inside your tight walls. He likes to edge you a lot since if he cums once it'll take longer for him to get it back up. His stubble when he leans in to kiss your neck during intercourse ironically makes you feel more sensitive.

Please sit on his face. He loves squeezing your ass a lot and smelling your natural musk right on his face, it drives him wild.

If you want him to use toys on you at first, he can't help be slightly offended. He ain't good enough for you? But you reassure him that it's a good way to spice up the night and help when he needs a break. He doesn't mind plunging dildos inside of you every now and then after that convincing argument, plus it's fun to push your limits with permission.

Pegging him, fingering him? It'll be a very long time before you can convince him to bottom for you or just try new things. It's unfamiliar territory but maybe you coax him just enough with a blowjob and a lot of explaining then maybe just maybe you'll be greeted with the view of a nearly knocked out Stan painted with his own cum, with your strap on deep inside his ass.

[that-tom-allen]

Hello, Tom Allen!

I am keeping my husband locked in a CB6000s for some days in the last year.

He and I are trying to make him cum in his cage without sucess.

Is it really possible to acchieve this goal?

May you provide some suggestions? With and without pegging?

Thank you!!!

🔐 First, I think that it is great to see a wife who has found enjoyment with this, and one who also tries to push some limits on her husband.

That said, remember that cages are meant to prevent men from having orgasms through direct stimulation of their penis. For most men, direct stimulation is the only path to orgasm that they have ever known, so being able to develop new pathways may not be easy, or even successful.

However, since the idea of not needing direct stimulation is so exciting, not to mention that it's fun to make one's partner have an orgasm, most couples that practice locking their man will make an effort to have him orgasm in his cage.

There are a few ways to approach this. The first one on most people's list is pegging. Since @mrs--edge does not indulge (her philosophy is that I am locked up for her pleasure, and not to indulge my own), I will point you to a website on the topic. Note that prostate orgasms take a lot of practice

The next thing to try is using a vibrator on (and around!) the cage. We have a Hitachi Magic Wand which neither of us cares for; while it is powerful and will lead to an orgasm, I found that generally even the slow speed is too buzzy for me, and an orgasm does not feel very good. However, that's me. A lot of guys really enjoy it, and the orgasm in the cage will certainly "take the edge off" his horniness.

For a lot of guys, though, the default method involves shaking and manipulating the cage. This works for some men because, even though it is not direct stimulation, the pressure and movements stimulate enough nerves inside their bodies. This may not work consistently, and you may need to try it for several weeks before it will work, but it would probably be fun trying.

And that leads me to where my wife and I are on the list.

My wife and I have sex frequently, although as I am always locked, I wear a strapon harness and a Vixskin Ranger for her (the practice of called #foxing). Because our sex is kind of hot, and we tend to make each other more excited with some dirty talk, a lot of moaning, and some scratching and biting, I become very close to having an orgasm just from the mental and emotional connection we make. However, sometimes the pressure of my cage pushing against her ass is very rhythmic, and triggers something inside me, and an orgasm will start to build. I have to let her know that I'm getting close, and ask permission to come. When she decides that I should have one, I find that I'm pushing against her pretty hard, which must be moving things around inside me. A man's erection extends several inches inside his body, and I'm sure that the muscles and connective tissue being moved around is what triggers an orgasm for me.

Note that when we were first doing this, those orgasms barely counted. They felt ruined, and often left me feeling incomplete. It took several years of not having any other type of release until they became powerful, pleasurable, and very intense. You may not get to this stage, but I often joke that my brain has been "rewired" to enjoy coming this way, because they are definitely as good as how I remember orgasms in the old days. Of course, I am only allowed to have them very infrequently, so...

[thepunkranger]

Resident Evil Characters - A Summary

Note: This is entirely my own opinion and said with a heavy dose of humor

Please enjoy

Chris Redfield

OG

Started as a twunk

Became an angry gorilla man???

Alpha Male™️

Punches boulders

Wants you to marry his sister

Smoker

Hide yo kids, hide yo wife

Rude to wait staff

2/10 - Just a guy. Hit him with your car

-

Jill Valentine

Other OG

Arguably better main of RE1

Master of Unlocking

Bisexual Bob™️

Butch

Supercop

Once got mind-controlled into going blonde

Rocket Launcher babe

PTSD

Big Strap Energy

Giant anime gun

10/10

-

Albert Wesker

OG Baddy

Sunglasses

Thinks he’s cool

A little too into Chris

“What are we going to do this game, Albert?”

“What we do every game, Alex: try to take over the world”

Matrix jacket

Maybe a vampire?

Looks like my uncle (derogatory)

4/10

-

Barry Burton

Bear

A+ line delivery

Just happy to be a part of things

Wishes his daughter would talk to him

Comes through in a pinch

Got lost on his way to The Last of Us

Father figure

Not dead out of sheer dumb luck

8/10

-

Rebecca Chambers

Baby butch

Sees the best in everyone

Autism be damned, my girl can work a shotgun

Sporty

Mommy Domme/Babygirl switch vibes

Sweet coffee addict

Doing fine, thanks for asking

Awkward thumbs up

9/10

-

Billy Coen

Bad Boy™️

Never bothered to take off his handcuffs

Tattoos

Mullet???

Moral standards

Strong silent type

Whole situation could’ve been avoided by just talking about his issues but no

Queen fan

7/10

-

Leon S. Kennedy

If a golden retriever became a human and then got kicked every day of its life

Having a really bad first day

Into dominant women

Dumb 90s haircut

Uses comedy as a coping mechanism

Hair grows in direct correlation to his level of angst

“Hey demons, it’s me, ya boi”

Sexy

Dog lover

Certified Good Boy™️

Fucked up a perfectly good rookie is what you did. Look at it, it’s got depression

15/10

-

Claire Redfield

College student stuck in the zombie apocalypse

Soft butch

Humanitarian

Forced her brother to teach her how to knife fight

Really into motorcycles

Leather jacket

Rocket Launcher babe #2

Always has at least one adopted child with her

10/10 would ask to babysit

-

Ada Wong

Mommy. Sorry. Mommy- sorry. Mommy-

Grappling hook

Badass spy

Emotionally distant

Soft spot for cute cuddly things (Leon)

Femme fatale

Book lover

Chaotic neutral

Crossbow 😍

Could step on me and I’d say thank you

Rocket launcher babe #3

10/10

-

Sherry Birkin

Goosebumps protagonist

Worst parents ever tbh

Surprisingly good under pressure

Please someone get this girl some therapy

Supergirl

Smartest person here

One hell of a shot

The trauma is immeasurable

Somehow still doing fine

Loves her weird adopted family

8/10

-

Carlos Oliviera

Himbo

First POC main?

Went from three polygons and a white boy haircut in the original to actual gorgeous South American hunk in the remake

Lost his accent along the way for some reason

#1 Jill simp

If Dug from Up was a guy

Only trustworthy person in the whole series

Just wants to help

Gorgeous gorgeous hair

Loves strong women

Hakuna matata

Touch-starved

10/10 would peg

-

Steve Burnside

Twink

Who is this sassy lost child?

Hot Topic employee

Into Claire (she’s too old for you bud)

Choker

Thinks he’s edgy

Whiny

Daddy issues

1/10

-

Luis Serra Navaro

If Puss in Boots was a human

The Most Extra™️

Luscious flowing locks

Definitely into bondage

Used to work for Umbrella

Trying to make up for it

Don Quixote references

Bisexual

Good with his hands

Praying for a threesome with Leon and Ada

10/10

-

Ashley Graham

Basic white girl

Always getting kidnapped

Master of Unlocking #2

Razor flip phone

Ada Wong bisexual awakening (same)

Good with a wrecking ball

Makes Leon catch her every time she has to jump a ledge (also same)

Would like to go to Hot Topic, please

7/10

-

Sheva Alomar

Player 2

Second POC main

Bad AI

Too good for her game

Willing to go on a suicide mission with a guy she just met

Left handed

Deserves a better stylist

Only good part of RE5

Literally my girl got done so dirty just give her another chance please

10/5

-

Moira Burton

“It’s not a phase, dad!”

Probably gay

Weak arms

Skillz

Box dyed her hair at least once

Simple Plan playing in the background

Childhood trauma

7/10

-

Piers Nivans

Trying his best

Appreciates a good steak

Sick of Chris’ bullshit

Good with a rifle

Just a good man

German Shepherd boy

Self-sacrificing

8/10

-

Jake Muller

Wesker’s son

Daddy issues

Who invited Ronan Lynch here?

Quips for days

Bad boy

Loves the type of woman who can kick his ass

The Most Edgy™️

9/10

-

Ethan Winters

Husband of the year

Trusting

Surprisingly chill

The most basic white man in all of RE

Hands? What hands?

Functionally a lizard

Would still love you if you were a worm

Just casually knows how to craft bullets

Moldy

8/10

-

Mia Winters

Toxic girlfriend energy

Literally possessed

Dark sense of humor

Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss

Casually working for a bioterrorism organization

Does actually care about her family

Definitely doesn’t have a penicillin allergy

If you can’t be the girl of his dreams, you can at least be the feral swamp witch of his nightmares

2/10

-

Zoe Baker

Lesbian

Mold intolerance

Southern accent thicker than grandma’s gravy

Picked last on the playground

Somehow okay despite her brother being Like That

Joe’s favorite

Science skills

8/10

-

Lucas Baker

Jigsaw

Didn’t even need the mold

Probably got at least one true crime documentary made about him

Working for Mia’s bioterrorism organization

Left his classmate rotting in the attic

Just the worst

0/10

-

Alcina Dimetrescu

Mommy

Please step on me

Elizabeth Bathory vibes

Just fucking huge

Can turn into a dragon

Lesbian

9/10

-

Karl Heisenberg

Grimy

Tumblr Sexyman

When robotics majors get weird

Fights with his siblings

Doesn’t actually care at all about Miranda

In cahoots with the lycans

7/10

-

Rosemary Winters

Mommy and Daddy issues

YA protagonist

Badass

Childhood trauma

Into the Mold-verse

Alternate universe Sherry Birkin

8/10

[angel-of-the-moons]

I need to make a request where dom!reader pegs sub!Johnny Cage, I need him so bad its not even funny anymore

Pegging Johnny? In my house? It's more likely than you think!

Fresh Act

Johnny Cage x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, smut, sex toys, pegging, cumshot, Johnny whines when he's pegged you can't change my mind, slight spanking, recording, mentions of handcuffs, plugs, vibrators, fisting

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: pls don't look at me because of those tags asdfghjkl

💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵

Johnny Cage was many things. An actor, a fighter, a champion, and now a director.

But there was one thing you knew he was that you were sure nobody else did--even his ex-wife, Cris--was that Johnny Cage was a bottom.

The energy this man exuded, the charisma and confidence would make anybody think that he was the boss in the bedroom.

But nope.

It was you.

Oh, how Johnny loved it when you would cuff his hands to the bed and just edge him for hours, especially if you straddled his thighs while he had a plug in--a pretty little shiny one with a cute green gem in the base--and you had some sort of vibrating implement to his cock.

Double that if you used one of those vibrating stroking toys.

But something you hadn't even thought about, surprisingly... was pegging. Let alone filming the two of you while you did it. You'd heard too many horror stories of celebrity sex tapes being leaked online and you weren't sure you could handle the thought of you (and Johnny) in such a vulnerable position.

The tabloids would eat you both up.

But having Johnny sit at the edge of your bed, shirtless, wearing sweats that hung far too low on his hips, sporting a rather happy and aching erection; and in his hand was a strap and a harness he ordered online, his phone in the other.

"So... Like. Cris would never humor me with this sort of thing. She didn't like it, but I thought if I brought it up with you..." He said.

And, god, his face has the cutest, most ridiculous set of puppy dog eyes he's tried with you yet. He almost made you cave instantly.

Almost.

"Johnny." You sigh, rubbing your forehead as you looked down at him. "Honey, I mean the dildo is one thing, but the camera?"

"Okay, I can totally take this." He said, shaking said object in his hand.

He changes it up and wiggles his phone instead, now. "And this? The video will just be for me n' you, Kitten. I promise. I'm really just gonna keep it when I need you but you're not with me. Like on set."

You couldn't help but chuckle at him with a huff. Yeah, of course he masturbated while on set. Johnny was the kind of guy to do that, after all.

"And how do you know you can take it, hm?" You ask, pointing to the dildo.

He makes a sideways grin and tilts his head, looking off to the side. "Well..."

"Johnny..."

"Okay, okay!" He laughed, leaning back on his elbows, his sweats stretching and emphasizing the outline of his dick. Your eyes flicked down his body to eye it for a few seconds, and the way his grin widened irritated you.

He was getting uppity with you again, trying to push your buttons. And you knew it.

You knew he knew it.

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at him, pushing your breasts up just a bit.

"So, you know how I've been stressed about the new scenes on set? Yeah, so I've been experimenting with this and, well... I mean it's a bit bigger than the one I use--"

"So what I'm hearing is you've been keeping toys a secret from me." Your finger begins to tap your arm impatiently.

The way his eyes nervously dart around as he struggles to find words sends a delicious thrill through your body.

"Er, well, I..." He coughs. "Well don't think of it as hiding so much as... er. Waiting to surprise you?"

You scoff and slowly crawl over him, your leg between his thighs and intentionally pressing against his throbbing cock.

You apply a bit of pressure and tilt your head, your expression cold and calculating as he bites his lip and breathes hard through his nose.

"Sounds to me like you're making excuses." You state flatly.

The bobbing of his throat sealed his fate.

"Safeword?"

"Peaches."

"Want me to push it?" You ask, your hand sliding over his thigh, the tip of your thumb just barely tracing the side of his cock.

"Not tonight, but if I get overwhelmed I'll tell you." He says, licking his bottom lip as your thumb pressed against him with more pressure.

You slowly grin at him. "You said I can't push it, so I won't hurt you. But seriously, let me know if it's too much."

"I will, babe." He says as you kiss his lips softly.

"Kay. Now get naked and on all fours."

"Fffuuuck...." He groaned deeply.

"Johnny..." You say, your voice lashing with ice.

"Yes ma'am."

"Good boy." You purr. "Now do what I said or I'll just cockwarm you all night with no relief."

💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵💵

Being with Johnny had allowed an inner demon of yours to come out. One you had no idea you were keeping locked up inside of you.

And boy, did she crave topping and dominating someone. And Johnny was more than happy to be that someone.

Setting up the camera took a bit of time, you let Johnny get up when you were struggling with positioning and lighting. After all, you wanted the both of you to look good in your homemade sex tape.

Once you were both satisfied with the way it was set up, you had Johnny get back into position, his cock jutting out between his legs, twitching and proud, his thighs were tense with excitement and his balls were nice and heavy from the edging you gave him.

Maybe next time you'd put him in a band, or a nice tight cock ring while you did this to him.

Next time.

Right now you had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth, chewing on it as you watched him shake with anticipation.

You palm his ass cheek firmly, giving him a soft squeeze; the latex on your fingers squeaking softly. "Now, Johnny... Here's a few rules. You have to keep yourself propped up. You're not allowed to touch yourself. I'll let you know when you can cum. If you do it before I say..."

You reach and squeeze his balls softly, earning a shaky whimper from him.

"I'm putting you in a Cage, Johnny." You grin maliciously. "Understood?"

The way his head shook had your heart yearning to just pull him back and kiss him stupid.

But already he was forgetting the game.

You give him another squeeze, just barely above pain.

"Johnny..." You scold.

"Yes ma'am." He wheezed.

You release him and give his ass an affectionate pat. "Good boy."

You hum as you grab the bottles of lube--one of several-- from the heating pad you had them resting on. There was one thing you knew almost nobody liked, and that was cold lube.

And it was always good to have a ton of lube on hand. No matter what, every time you think you have enough, you use more. For everyone's comfort.

And despite Johnny's assurances that he's had a dildo up his ass before, you wanted to have all your bases covered. You didn't want to hurt him unless he wanted it. Spanking or slapping or biting was one thing, but fucking his ass with inadequate levels of lube or prep could result in a hospital trip in the worst case scenario...

You popped the cap and spread his cheeks, slowly dribbling the clear liquid straight down onto his asshole, using one finger to tease the puckered flesh with an idle hum still in your voice as he sucked in a tight breath as your gloves finger massaged his tight, velvety walls.

You both agreed that for this situation, it was smart to wear some latex gloves so your nails wouldn't scratch his delicate insides. After all, even you used gloves when you fingered yourself, sometimes; having claws scratching up your lady bits was uncomfortable and could lead to infections.

"You good, Johnny?" You ask him gently.

"Y-yeah." He whimpered and quickly corrected himself. "Yes, ma'am. Ugh. You..."

He dropped his head and his upper body heaved with heavy breaths as he composed himself.

"You can use more than one."

Your brow quirked and you smiled impishly. "You want me to?"

"Please."

"Okay, baby." You murmur, pulling your finger out of his ass and holding your hand up, dripping a copious amount of lube on your first three fingers. You didn't want him too tight when you fucked him with the strap, and besides... teasing him was always part of your game.

Sometimes you wanted him so strung out he would cum from a puff of air. You wouldn't go so far tonight, you wanted him to cum on that hefty silicone dick of yours.

The groan that came from his throat as you eased your fingers inside of him made your clit twitch against the straining leather of the harness, your wet cunt already causing some nice slippery friction that stimulated you, too.

Johnny had thought of everything for this, he had the harness designed custom just for you and him, he had it made so if you wanted, you could have a vibrator stuck into a pouch in the front to stimulate your clit alongside the soft bump that rubbed against you with every movement you made, making your nipples pebble and goosebumps raise along your skin.

You twisted and pressed your fingers in every angle you could manage until Johnny collapsed down onto his elbows with a small moan.

You halt your fingers entirely and pull them out until just the tips of them remained inside, frowning down at your mega-star boyfriend.

"Johnny..."

He swallowed audibly and hauled himself back up onto shaky palms, his shoulders tense from the strain and effort.

And he thought planking was hard...

"That's my boy." You chuckle, thrusting your fingers back inside, curling them in a "come hither" manner, stroking his walls gently and oh so sweetly.

You bite your lip and move your hips closer, until your strap on was pressed against the underside of his cock and balls, giving external stimulation as you fucked his ass with your hand.

You were tempted to see if he could take the whole thing, but like your earlier thoughts you saved that idea for later.

You twist your hand downward as you look at the phone you and Johnny had set up, facing you with the front-facing camera, the ring light illuminating you two wonderfully. The energy of your bedroom and the candles lit provided a gorgeous backdrop for this; and the way you could actually see how Johnny looked on all fours, his eyes squeezed shut and biting his lip in concentration as sweat dripped down his forehead made your hips thrust against his in an automatic reaction.

He made a short gasp as your silicone cock grinded against his, pressing against his full balls while your fingers angled down, dangerously close to his prostate but not close enough to give hime spine-tingling relief.

You made a mental note to buy a custom stroker that you could shove alongside his cock, next time. You'd love to see him on his back as you grounded and stroked your cock alongside his, watching him come in thick ropes up his well-toned abs... maybe you'd have him lick your toy clean afterwards.

God, he was your inner demon's muse. He was so good at giving you ideas with just those pathetic little moans and whimpers of his.

"Look at you," You coo down at him. "Taking my hand so good."

You knew he could probably cum just like this, lazily stroking his hips against you, his cock sliding against yours as your fingers pumped in and out of him, stretching his hole out nice and wide for you.

But no, if he was gonna cum, it was gonna be while you fucked him hard with that goddamn strap-on he wanted so badly.

You pulled away all at once without warning, his ass twitching and empty at the loss of you. He looked over his shoulder at you, not voicing his question--because he knew he'd be punished if he got impatient--and his brows were creased pathetically in a silent plea for you to continue.

You acted like you didn't notice, humming a little tune as you poured what was left of the bottle of lube you were using on the dildo. You grabbed another warmed up bottle and applied more, stroking it with your fingers, trailing over the life-like silicone; the veins prominent and the foreskin creased as you pulled back like a real cock.

Fuck, you almost wished you had one, just to know how he'd feel all snug around you.

You rolled your hips into your touch, giving yourself some friction and making small moans--some for show, some genuine--as your clit bumped and rolled against the raised indent on the inside of the harness, more slick gushing from your wanting cunt.

You barely glimpsed at him out of the corner of your eyes, looking at him as he watched you, his eyes practically glistening with tears as he watched you slowly get yourself off, leaving him bereft and craving.

You were merciful and turned back to him, pouring more lube into his ass that was still clenching around air, waiting for you.

You pressed the tip against him, relishing in how his whole body seemed to go still as death as he waited.

But nothing happened.

You tapped the head of the toy against his waiting hole, "Remember. Use the safeword, and if you cum before I say, you're in trouble."

"Yes ma'am." He sighed, his voice watery and knees weak. "Please."

"Alright." You say, your tongue clicking as you press harder, the tip popping right into his asshole with wondrous ease, making you moan involuntarily at the mere sight as his hands bunched the expensive sheets, his cock leaking fresh, heavy drops of his precum.

"Fuck." He groaned as you eased in, inch by torturous inch.

"Doing s' good for me, baby." You praise as the toy is swallowed by his hungry body. "Takin' my cock so good. Next time I'm gonna have you ride it, m'kay?"

"Yes--fuck--please." He whined loudly, his spine arching and head tipping back as you finally bottomed out.

You rested there, letting the weight of the strap rest in his guts, getting snug and comfortable as his insides contorted around its shape, committing it to memory.

Cris was fucking stupid for not doing this to him. He was fucking gorgeous all split open and trembling for you, his muscles quivering as your spread your hand, palm down and fingers splayed while you slid it up his back, feeling just how sweaty he got.

"Gonna start moving." You tell him as you pull back; not quite as slow as when you were pushing in, but you were being gentle for him.

Just this once.

After that? Fuck, you were relentless.

You would roll your hips like you did when you rode his cock, gyrating and slapping against his ass as the stimulation from the harness pushed you closer and closer to your own orgasm while you fucked him.

You drove in and in, and in and in more and more, the tip of the dildo stabbing him in a way that he never managed on his own. God, Johnny wanted to badly to grip and tug his cock, to stroke himself so he could just cum already, but he remembered your rules and your promise to really make him suffer if he did what you expressly told him he couldn't.

All he could do was mumble and babble things almost incoherently, rolling his hips back against yours, his ass slapping audibly against your sweaty skin, the sound of your false cock lewd and wet as you buried yourself again and again, pile-driving the air out of his lungs with every punch of your hips.

"Fuck." You whined softly, feeling the flames of your own release began to creep up your spine, your blood turning to molten lava as the friction from the harness against the swollen bud of your clit makes your nerves light up and your brain almost forget what you were doing as you mindlessly chase your own release; your puffy lips and slick cunt gushing so much it feels like you could drown him if his face were in-between your legs, the clear, sticky juices dripping down your thighs as your hips snap up against his while you cum, your hands gripped tight on his hips to ground yourself.

As the haze of your orgasm ebbed and your hot slick dribbled down the skin of your inner thighs, you remember that you were buried all the way inside of Johnny's ass.

You smile, feeling a little guilty that you got so consumed in the moment that you'd neglected and forgot all about your whimpering and squirming boyfriend beneath you.

He hasn't said the safeword yet, and he has been good. Almost unusually, for him, to behave so well in bed. Sometimes he lived for your little punishments.

So, you decided to extend the olive branch of mercy yet again as you pull out, and angle your hips so you can press the tip against his prostate.

"Go on ahead 'n cum for me, baby." You coo at him, your voice becoming only slightly rough as you plowed full steam into his ass, relishing in the noises he made as he rocked shamelessly against you, the sweetest most pathetic noises coming from his cute lips alongside your name.

When Johnny Cage cums, he does so with his entire body, trembling, gripping, thrusting, arching... He does it all, puts his whole body into the effort of letting you know that he's at his limit and you've brought him there.

Hot, thick ropes of white shoot from the weeping and sensitive tip of his cock as you help him ride it out, smiling in amusement as he essentially rides you from below as he collapses his upper body down against the pillows, drooling just a little bit as his brain slowly kicks back on.

You could swear you could hear the dial-up internet sounds coming from his mind as you pull the dildo out of him.

"That good, huh?" You tease playfully.

"So, so good." He groans, rolling onto his back, just off to the side of the mess he made in the satiny sheets.

You hum in acknowledgement as you undo the clasps and buckles of the harness, turning the heating pad with the lube off as you set the harness and toy atop it.

You lean down and grab Johnny by his jaw, bringing his lips to yours in a heavy, loving and desperate kiss as his hands smooth up your back and down again, kneading and pulling the cheeks of your ass apart.

"Mmh. Again?" You murmur against his lips.

"As much as I'd love to do that again, I need some time to warm up, Kitten." He chuckles at you.

"But I can do that while you sit on my face, right?"

[nyeddleblog]

A little piece of heaven [Part 3]

Pairing: Wade Wilson x Original Female Character x Logan Howlett. Summary: In Wade's timeline, Iris is his supernice upstairs neighbor. In Wolverine's, she's his beloved dead wife. A/N: This is a Wattpad Fic with an original character of mine that you can find here. Warnings: Deadpool & Wolverine spoilers, kinda.

PREVIOUS PART.

Chapter 3: Note to author.

So, let me get this straight. I, Wade Wilson, the Ryan Reynolds mixed with a shar-pei looking, smart mouthed, regenerating motherfucker, am not supposed to be the romantic lead in this fanfiction? A fanfiction that just came out of your ass with a messier timeline than Fox's? 

This is rich.

Remember when we established that Iris and I were not a thing? That we would never be a thing? And that she'd only pegged me five times because I asked? 

Yeah, let's scratch that because why the fuck do you think I asked?

I'm sorry to get a hold of the narrative like this but, fuck, let's talk about this whole Logan situation, huh? 'Logan' this, 'Logan' that. I mean, can we talk about me for a change? I killed her ex-boyfriend for her! Like, seriously, you're officially out of ideas. It's like a bad reality TV show where they keep cloning the hot guy.

And I love the hot guy, don't get me wrong, sugar tits, but this is a Deadpool & Wolverine Fanfiction, okay? Don't fucking exclude me again. I want to be involved.

My initials are DP for a reason, do not forget that.

NEXT PART.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 44

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The smell of popcorn is like home. You don’t really have one of those. No, you just exist in Lloyd’s space, occupy the role he’s assigned to you, the one he’s abandoned you to. But that buttery aroma, the salty taste, is familiar and longlost. You can’t remember the last time you were in a theatre, or the last time you were excited.

You are. You are almost ecstatic to be there. To be away from the house for a few more hours. You lead Andy down the aisle and find your row, following the curve to your numbered seats. As you glance over at him and sit in the cushiony leather chair, you almost forget about everything outside the dark theatre.

For an instant, you could pretend you’re on a date with a cute guy. Again, when was the last time that happened? When was the last time Colin took you out? You always planned date nights and it was like dragging a cat to the bathtub. And Lloyd, those weren’t dates, those were humiliation. This isn’t a date either.

You balance your bag of popcorn in your lap and place your cup in the holder set into the leather arm. You feel along the chair and find the button, reclining halfway as you get comfortable. Andy bends his arm over the shared arm rest, picking at his popcorn as the previews begin.

“This is nice,” he whispers. You don’t know why he is, the place is empty. It’s a midday matinee in the middle of the week.

“Yeah,” you agree, “I miss movies.”

“Oh yeah? I prefer the drive-in,” he leans over a little closer, “used to pack up the car, a cooler of drinks and snacks, and take the whole family…” he sighs wistfully, “it was fun. I miss it.”

You’re quiet. Unsure how to answer, you pop a few kernels in your mouth and chew. You swallow and feel a pang, the most you’ve felt in at least a month.

“I’m sorry, Andy…”

“Don’t be. Please. I was lucky, I got good years out of it and I hold onto them,” he rolls a piece of popcorn between his fingers and drops it back with the rest, “not everyone is lucky enough to have that even.”

You feel as if he’s talking about you. It isn’t a surprise. You haven’t been subtle. You’re miserable and Lloyd’s presence screams in everyone’s face. You’re as good as a single mother.

“I’m sure Lloyd will show up soon,” Andy says, “how could he not? With a wife and daughter waiting on him. No man could resist.”

“Please,” you scoff, “I don’t wanna think about it. I want to just forget for a little bit.”

“Yeah, I know what that feels like too,” he sits back, “deal. We’re not us for the next two hours. We’re just two friends enjoying a movie.”

“That sounds amazing,” you breathe and grab another handful of popcorn, “wish we could stay forever.”

🧸

Twenty minutes in, you roll up the top of the mostly empty bag. You set it to one side of your seat and lean back against the leather chair. You yawn as you try to focus on the plot of the movie. You didn’t see the original so it’s all new to you.

You shift around, trying to get comfortable as you feel a tingle around your eyes. You’re tired and the darkness isn’t help. You lean on one elbow and yawn again. You cradle your head as you focus on the actors, trying to lose yourself in the world of cinema.

You don’t know when it happens, there’s a scene on a train, and then the world is gray. You slump over and doze off, falling into a swirl of reams, a mesh of your reality and the movie. The thrumming soundtrack seeps through but doesn’t break your slumber.

You wake only as a sudden boom crack from the surround sound. Your eyes snap open as you find your head propped against a warm pillow. Your arm is slung across the leather as you hug Andy’s and your head is propped up just against his shoulder.

“Oh,” you pull away, “I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry,” he chuckles, “you’re tired. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, I… I guess,” you rub your eyes and try to sit up.

“I don’t mind,” he insists and reaches across the armrest, rubbing your back, “you got a little one waiting to keep you up at home. Movie’s boring anyway.”

You look down and sniff. His touch is comforting even if unexpected. You slowly let yourself lean into him again and he wiggles to get closer on his side. You put your head on his shoulder again, “thanks.”

“No problem,” he says softly.

You sit like that for a while. Your eyes won’t close that time. You’re too aware of his heat, of his scent, of how nice it feels to have his hand just behind your hip. You watch the movie lazily beneath your lashes as his fingers move mindlessly along your side, a soothing up and down.

Your heart swells as your eyes haze. You’re so stupid. Don’t even think of it. You’re gross and old and ugly. He’s just being nice and you’re just desperate.

You tilt your head up to look at Andy. It takes him a moment before he returns your gaze, the blue hue of the screen limning his features. His brows draw together curiously. You raise yourself just a little and bring your hand up to feel the soft pelt of his beard. He shudders.

You press your lips to his. It’s electric and tinged with a sliver of instant regret. Before you can pull away, his hand travels up your back. He catches the back of your head with his other and keeps you angled awkwardly over the arm of the seat.

You give in. You let yourself fall into the moment. You forget about everything else and squeeze your eyes shut tight. You’re not a sad old divorce, you’re not a neglected wife, you’re that girl who used to make out in dark theatres until her head spun.

You drag your hand down his neck and feel the firm muscle of his chest. He rubs up and down your back, squeezing your side. You’re reminded of the extra weight but he doesn’t relent. You devour each other until your breathless.

When he finally lets you go, you sit back and stare forward. He does too. You languish in tense silence as the movie ends and the credits roll. It’s as if you’re both stunned.

“I’m married,” you utter grimly.

He nods and leans forward, elbows on his knees, “I know.”

“I have a child.”

“Know that too.”

“I’m broken.”

He’s quiet. He lets out a gritty exhale and clicks his tongue, “no, you’re not. The asshole left you, you’re hurt.”

“It doesn’t make it right.”

He sniffs and sits up, pushing his shoulders back, “did it feel wrong?”

The question hangs between you. You can’t answer him. You can’t bear to tell the truth but you know he felt it too. It’s not something magical like love, but it’s something simple and base. It’s loneliness and need. It’s two people abandoned in different ways, coming together in a carnal commiseration.

You slide to the front of the seat and stand, gathering up your trash. Andy does the same, not saying a word. This time, you trail him up the row and into the aisle. You catch up to him, walking parallel as you take the low steps towards the back of the theatre.

“We should go to the drive-in some time,” you suggest, “triple showing…”

He stops by the bin to dump his garbage, and takes yours to drop it in too. Then, he surprises you. He puts his arm over your shoulders and ushers you through the door, into the bright lights of the lobby. You feel the tension in him, rigid, almost quaking.

“You think Dottie will let you stay out past curfew?“ He goads.

“It won’t be the first time I’ve snuck out after dark,” you giggle.

[romana-after-dark]

Blessed be the Fruit: Finale part 2

Commander!Joel Miller x Handmaid!Reader

Series masterlist Join dark!Romana's tag list Dark!Romana's Masterlist

Summary: Joel takes you somewhere different, meeting Tommy there

Content and Warnings: DARK JOEL! DUB CON! (stressing the dub con again this chapter)

Although no violent rape happens like in TWW, reader is under systemic misogyny and a society of ritualized sex abuse. Everything other than the violent rape scenes, everything that happen in either The Handmaids Tale book or show are liable to happen here including but not limited to discussion of rape, child abuse, child marriage, ritualized sexual abuse, sexual abuse in general, acts of violence, major character deaths, mentions of miscarriage but never shown and never pregnancies we know of. Big ole homophobia warning, specifically in regards to lesbophobia. As for Joel, PIV sex, breeding kink, degrading (slut, whore etc but thing like Raider!joel) forced breeding and breeding kink, power dynamics, Joel is not the good guy but he’s also not the worst, slightly rough sex but not violent. Warnings are liable to be added as the story goes but I’ll always update. As always if I miss something please tell me, but i extensively label my warnings and in the end media consumption is your own choice. If you would like to know if this is a happy ending or not you can message me and I’ll tell you that way I don’t spoil for everyone but you can decide if this is for you.

Immersability: Reader has long hair, can conceive children theoretically.

****************

There was only one person Tommy let him tie up, and it was the woman Gilead had sentenced to get fucked by him every month. Tommy wasn’t complaining, and honestly he wasn’t hearing it from Angela either. Sure, this wasn’t an ideal situation but Tommy thought he at least made it bearable. 

He couldn’t do anything about how other commanders treated their women, he couldn’t do anything about the fact he was Angela’s last commander before she would have been sentenced to the colonies… but she didn’t have to worry about that anymore, did she?

Angela was pregnant. 

Unfortunately, this had produced a while new world of problems for them. Tommy had been working with Angela to try and figure out how to get Ellie out before she was married, but Mayday had been dragging their feet and now time was up. Ellie had been caught with Riley, Angela was pregnant, and Gina was certainly going to try and get OfJoel killed. Ellie’s wedding was next week.

Angela’s pregnancy was announced, and the Miller household had people buzzing with excitement between that and the wedding, people buzzing around congraduating Joel that his teenage daughter was getting married to a pedofile, congratulating Tommy that he has a child on the way that will likely be abused under the system he helped create, and congratulating his wife for doing absolutly fucking nothing. Baby probably wasn’t even concieved during the ceremony, considering how much him and Angela fucked. Yeah, everything was shit.

Still, at least they could fuck.

Where Tommy had gotten a strap on and restraints, he’d never tell, but boy he was glad he did. Angela had tied his hands to his ankles, fucking Tommy’s butt with the strap and smaking his freckled skin red. 

“Dirty little whore likes being beat? You like it to hurt?” She taunts him, fucking his tight hole open. She had been edging his cock for close to an hour now, his balls tied up and blue as she tortured him. Fuck, he never felt so good. Even before, when Tommy was having casual sex (a LOT of casual sex) and doing drugs (a LOT of not-so casual drugs) it never felt this good. Yes, he’s counting the time he had boy pussy sat on his face and girl cock up his ass. 

“Tommy! It’s t-” Joel burst in the room. “What the fuck!” 

Joel had seen Tommy naked, Joel had seen Tommy and Angela having sex PLENTY but not like this. Not with his fucking asshole just…. There… looking at him. Was he getting pegged?

Angela turned to look at him, her pale face flushed with exertion but certainly not embarrassment. “Hey Joel, you gonna join us?”

Joel smacks his face, not wanting to look. “No, for fucks sake. Tommy, it’s time.” He emphasizes.

“Oh shit!” Realizing what Joel is saying, he tried to get up, but his ankles are still in the air tied to his hands. Tommy falls off the bed with a thud.

*

You wake up to a hand on your mouth. Eyes opening wide, it takes a moment for them to adjust and see Joel staring down at you. For a moment, you relax as you think he wants a quick fuck, but then he’s pulling you out of bed.

He takes your hand after throwing your cloak on you. “We’re leaving.” He helps you shove on your shoes, and next thing you know he’s guiding you out of the back of the house.

“Joel!” You whisper. “What’s happening?!”

He put you behind the garage, gripping your face harshly. “Don’t say a fucking words, and stay here until I get you, okay?”

You’re frightened, but you trust him. You have no reason to, but you do.

Several minutes later, Joel appears behind the shed with a very wides eyes Ellie. You quickly hug her as she asks whats happening, but Joel moves you along.

“We’re getting you out.” Both of you.

Tommy comes, holding Angela’s hand. It’s Angela who speaks. “Anthony came through?” She asked Joel.

“He did. Had to make a lot of fucking promises, do a lot of fucking shit but we got it.”

She nods, smiling. ”Lets fucking go!”

You had to sneak down several blocks, over a mile you’d bet, in the darkness to get to another part of town. It developed houses that would be given to commanders' families should they have them, like where Ellie or Angela’s baby would go. No one lived there yet, babies were still rare. Just behind one, as the yard turned into the woods, a white van waited. Man in a Commander uniform that was ill fitting got out of the van, as did a driver. You suspected the attire was stolen. They opened the back door of the van.

“This has to be quick, Joel.” Angela said as Tommy helped her in. Joel ignored her, turning to Tommy as he’s about to say his goodbye to Angela.

“You need to go with her.”

Tommy scoffed. “Fucking sure. They’ll fucking kill her in Canada!” 

“No, they won’t. I’ll make a statement, I’ll tell they you betrayed me and you’ve been working with Maday this whole time.”

Angela nodded. “I’ll tell them, Tommy. I have some weight, I’ll vouch for you.”

Tommy continued to look back between Angela and Joel, confused. “I can’t leave you, Joel.”

Joel sighed, holding Tommys shoulders. “Tommy, this whole shit show is my fault and I dragged you into it. You have a baby to think about now, okay?”

He considered this. “If I’m still in Gilead… Gilead can try and get it back like they did baby Nicole…”

“Can’t let that happen. And Tommy… I need you to get my baby out of here, okay? I trust you. I couldn’t protect Sarah…” Joel’s jaw locked at the memory of his first born, trying to remain strong. Tommy was not as brave, eyes pooling with tears. “I need to get Ellie out. I need her to be safe, okay? Our babies, our girls, I need to know they’ll get across safe.”

Ellie spoke up. “You’re not coming with?”

He turned to his daughter. “No, Ellie, I’m sorry.” Tommy put his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, and climbed into the van with Angela, placing a hand on her stomach. Joel held Ellie’s face in his hands. “There’s a second van you’ll meet up with, Riley is there… Tommy’s gonna take care of you, so is Angela, so is she.” Joel looked up to where you stood, and you nod. You’d take care of her. You’ll get that innocent girl out safely.

“Dad…” Her voice chokes. “I don’t wanna leave you… won’t you get in trouble if we leave? Just come with us! Gilead will kill you!”

He shook his head, smiling sadly. “No, baby girl, I can’t. Gilead won’t kill me, but Canada sure fucking will. The protection I have with Gilead is the same position that will have me dead in Canada. You have to leave, Bedford will-” He stops himself, looking away for a second before turning back to her. “I ain’t letting that happen to you. I need you to be strong, okay? Angela’s pregnant, I need you to helo her.” He shifted gears a bit. Ellie didn’t want to be a child, she wanted to be strong. “Ya’ll’re gonna look out for each other. You are all family now, got it?”

Ellie stiffened her lip, putting on her bravest face. “I got it. I’m gonna keep them safe. You gotta be safe though, okay? I’m gonna find you eventually. You can’t fucking escape me.”

That made Joel smile. “Good fucking girl. You fucking show em. You’re gonna go to school, and you’re gonna learn how to be everything Gilead tried to beat out of you, okay? Expose it all. They are gonna be so fucking afraid of you, Elizabeth Miller”

Ellie grinned despite the tears. “Hell yeah they are.” She climbed into the van, settling under Tommy’s arm. He was going to protect her. 

The driver told Joel they needed to go, but Joel looked at you. “Five minutes. Get in the van.” The diver huffed, but did as he was told. Joel closed the van door. “I told you I was gonna protect you, beautiful.”

You nod, feeling dread at this goodbye. “I know. I always knew you would.”

“Watch out for Ellie, please? She’s just… She’s gonna be brave, she does better if she’s protecting someone else but… Her and Riley, they’re just kids, no matter what Gilead thinks.”

“I will.” You promise, the tears begin to come. “I am gonna miss you. I know this isn’t… This isn’t a huge romance or star crossed lovers but I do care about you. I care about your family.” A sniffle. “Well, not Gina.”

Joel chuckles at that, pulling you into an embrace and a kiss. “I know. I care about you too, that’s why I’m getting you out of here. You deserve better than this place.”

You melt into his embrace, letting his arms comfort you. “I’m kinda scared… All i’ve known is this place.”

“I know, I know… but you’ll do so good, I swear.” He takes your chin in his hand, making you look up at him. “You’re gonna be good, okay? I know how you are, I know how you love cock and pussy, but you gotta take it easy when you get out.”

“It’s not gonna be you…”

He smiles. “I know.” Joel pushes you against the van. “No one is ever gonna be me, are they?”

“No sir, no one.”

“Tommy ain’t ever gonna be me, neither is Angela?”

“No sir, none of them…”

Joel grinds his cock against your stomach. “I know they ain’t, sweet girl. I’m gonna give you a goodbye gift, something to remember me by.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes” You chant as he hitches you leg up, pulling aside your panting as he pulls his cock out. “Give it to me…”

He thrust inside you, stinging as his fat cock pulls you apart but you don't do more than whimper, not wanting to give yourself away to everyone in that van. Joel fucks you while you touch your clit, trying to make this as quick as possible. It was a risk as it was, you weren’t going to draw this out. 

“They are gonna examine you, you know that? You’re gonna have my cum dripping out of you for days. You want them?”

“Yes, yes Commander Miller… want you inside me…” Heat pools in your stomach, ready to cum, ready to take his seed inside you one last time. A parting gift.

“When they ask you…” Joel pants in your ear, thrust deep inside as his balls draw up. “When they ask you who you belonged to, when they ask whose name you took, what are you gonna say?”

You moan, cumming on his cock one more time. “Commander Miller, I belong to Commander Miller.”

He groans in pleasure. “And when they ask your name?”

“OfJoel! I am OfJoel.”

Joel released inside you, flooding you once more with his seed and pussing your still-cummig pussy.

Then, he set you down, and it was over.

Joel opened the door, gave you a kiss, and sent you inside. He mouthed a thak you to Angela for helping him pull this off despite all he’s done. More more look to you. One more to Tommy. One long, tear-filled I love you to Ellie, and he tapped the van. As it drove off, his eyes were on Ellie being held by Tommy as he shut the door.

You rode in silence, but you could feel Angela’s eyes on you. She knew what you did. Of course she did. Angela knew everything, but didn’t speak. Ellie was crying softly but pretending she wasn’t as she got snot on Tommy’s shirt. You thought what Joel’s fate would be, if he was right that his position would offer him safety or if his brother, two handmaids one who is pregnant and a child of Gilead and a wife all escaped out from under his nose? You wondered about your son who you were leaving behind… could you really leave without him? There were no options really. 

“Is he lying?” Ellie spoke, pulling herself off Tommy. The van was almost pitched black, hiding her no doubt red face.

Angela, of course, spoke. “Maybe. But Joel has a lot of power in Gilead, and he produced 2 children… I mean, he was a founder. He might be punished, might not be given another handmaid but I don’t think he’s complaining. I think he’s fine.”

Another beat of silence before she spoke again. “This was all his fault, isn’t it. Gilead, all of it.”

Tommy tried to deny it. “No, no Ellie-”

“Yeah, it is.”

When you all arrive at the meet stop the drivers step with a jolt. No one was there. You sat waiting… waiting. Ellie starts asking questions, asking Angela where Riley is but no one knows. Finally, a car whips up to the van, and when it opens, there she is. Riley runs out of the car and into Ellie’s arms as she jumps out of the van to her friend. Relieved to see the girl, relieved she’s getting out, you prepare for them to drive out, but the door opens again…

Your son steps out of the car.

“Matthew?”

One Year Later….

Life was good. All of you had stayed together, trauma bonded from what you’d seen.

Tommy was put on trial, but the odds were stacked against the prosecutor. Gilead, including Joel, publicly condemned him. Angela spoke on the stand for his good treatment of her, Ellie spoke on his behalf, as did Riley and you, and soon they considered him little more than a bystander. Tommy played a good himbo.

 He grew out his hair and a mustache, changed his last name. Him and Angela married, not out of love. There was affection, but it was for the safety of Riley. Ellie would be placed with Tommy since they were blood related, but Riley was a risk. Tommy promised Joel and Ellie he’d protect her. So, they married, they presented as a happy family with the baby she gave birth to, a little girl they named Alicia. 

With Riley saying she wanted to stay with them, Tommy and Angela were able to keep both teenagers with them. Ellie and Riley were set up with a charity organization that tutored them to catch them up and were doing okay in that aspect. Riley had taken to therapy better than Ellie had, never wanting to talk. Some days were better than others. Some days she screamed at Tommy and some days she laid in bed for hours and hours. It wasn’t always easy, but she had support.

Riley suffered from nightmares. Having been married, she suffered sexual abuse from her far too old for her husband and frequently was jumpy around people and loud noises.

And you? You were reunited with your son. It was a confusing adjustment, one he doesn’t understand… but you’re honest with him and he’s honest with you. It gets better.

You still see him sometimes. 

On the news, mostly. He makes half hearted propaganda about the missing “Children of Gilead” that his treacherous brother stole. The pregnant handmaid he watched his brother fuck. His own handmaid he shared with the previous 2. His daughter who he was teaching and who he risked everything to get across the border. His daughter’s friend, a wife that Gilead decided to frame as a child still now that it suited the narrative, that he watched grow up tha he refused to leave behind. The little boy he had no connection to, no reason to give a shit about, but he did because he was yours.

He didn’t really care. You could tell he didn’t care because you had seen him when he spoke with passion. Gilead was never getting you or these kids ever again. It didn’t matter. They were safe. So were you.

You, Tommy, Angela, Riley, Ellie, Matthew, Alicia, you all lived together and did your best to leave Gilead behind… but there were nights you remembered him, nights you thought about his cock as you touched yourself at night, and you’d always remember. He’d always have a part of you. Part of you would always be OfJoel.

****************

Like a fighting year later, I finish it. Sorry!!!!!!!!!!!!

I started this series hot off the tails of the wrong way and first chapter got like 300 and then it just.... dropped. I think my problem was i had no plan. Never really mapped it out what I was going to do chapter by chapter which is how usually do it for series!!!

My other issue i think it this series and myself never decided what i wanted to be. Was it a sexy silly story like Little Bird,the kylo ren series that inspred this? Or was it serious? Was Joel supossed to be a hot baddie or like in TWW where Joel is always mean to be the bad guy.

I dont know.

If anyone wants to write the handmade tale aus for Joel, FREE RANGE! dont gotta credit me r anyhing. Just do it better. Make it sexy and silly or make it a story with a narrative. just dont do this weird mix.

I hope it at least tied up loose ends

Thank you each and every person who showed support!! I still love Angela and my himbo tommy. we need more himbo tommy out there!!!!

as always lk thoughts!!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @dins-riduur-anthe @morallyinept @fan-fiction-floozyy @med494 @taliarose12 @flvrdoll @k-ra@sam-2me @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @moriartyyouwhore @hereforthepedrofanfic @alwaysmicado @noisynightmarepoetry @kyloispunk @jenna-ortega @lunitareads @labyrinthofheartagrams @swimmjacket @theywhowriteandknowthings @everyth1ngfan @movievillainess721 @syrupstuff @christinamadsen @darlingshame @genetics4life @stevngrant @crazysouthernlady @joeldjarin @gwendibleywrites @ladynightengale @justagalwhowrites @pedge-page @magpiepills @zliteraturehoe @lover-of-books-and-tea