#while trying to use the restroom like get the fuck outta here

[ccuriousmischieff]

.

[farfarawayinthelandof]

Kinda random but is it okay if i request Saiki with a crush who's basically an isekai protag? Like, they get transported to other worlds almost on a daily basis and they're so used to it that they don't really care anymore- and when Saiki comes to pick them up he finds them chilling with the locals.

Isekai is a genre where an average teenager gets transported into an another world where usually magic is present. I think It would be pretty funny lol-

SAIKI W/ AN ISEKAI PROTAG CRUSH

i love this idea so much! tysm for the request :)

i got very carried away with this, oops lol

gn!reader

warnings: swearing

ੈ♡˳·˖✶

- saiki has had an eye on you for a while

- not in a creepy way- no-

- he's just interested in you!

- (he has a crush on you - just won't admit it 🙄)

- anyways

- one day, at school, he notices that you're gone

- he's the first to notice btw

- he uses his clairvoyance on you to figure out where you've gone/if you're sick and-

- YOU'RE IN A FUCKING PIRATE SHIP!?!?! ABOUT TO WALK THE PLANK!?!?

- AND YOU'RE LIKE UNUSUALLY CALM ABOUT IT?!?

- saiki keeps his eyes crossed, watching, resisting the urge to teleport and get you in the middle of class.

- as soon as he can, trying to keep an eye on you using his powers, saiki walks into the bathroom to teleport

- he appears just as a weird looking boy decked out in green starts to sword fight an older man wearing red (looking like a stereotypical pirate ofc)

- Saiki realizes that you, and himself, are currently IN the fairytale Peter Pan.

- saiki finds you at the edge of the boat cheering your new friend on.

- "oh hi saiki! how are you?" you ask, aware that manners are still important in the midst of battle.

- "good grief, Y/N." Saiki just grabs your arm and teleports you outta there.

- you're kind of relieved. as fun as the lost boys were, they were pretty clingy.

- "Y/N, how did you end up there?"

- You explain to him that sometimes you end up in completely different worlds, and you have to go along with whatever story until it ends. then you can go home. simple.

- saiki is just like

- 😐

- as always

- anyways, now that the cats out of the bag about your "power" and saiki's, you're both a lot closer (at least you think)

- much to saiki's disdain (lol jk he doesn't mind)

- what he DOES mind is how flaky you are. but hey! you can't help it

- and obviously he knows that

- but still, Y/N. 😐seriously!?!? now he has to be with nendo and kaido ALONE.

- so it's kind of unspoken that saiki will teleport you out of different worlds when you find yourself stuck in them

- its a perfect day. the birds are chirping, the sun is out (but it's not too hot), and there is no one to bother saiki.

- saiki is excited to hang out with you at cafe miami (he reminds himself it's just because coffee jelly🤤butthat'ss actually a fat lie he likes you)

- saiki gets there first. so he waits for you to show up.

- you don't show up.

- good grief, Y/N

- saiki uses his clairvoyance to check on you and

- you're running away from something

- YOU"RE RUNNING AWAY FROM A FUCKING TITAN?!?! ARE YOU SHITTING ME Y/N?!?!?!

- You Are Not Shitting Him.

- Saiki fucking books it too the restroom

- to teleport to you

- thank god he gets there just in time

- honestly, after that you couldn't be more grateful towards him

- saiki knows this

- 😘cocky piece of shit

- "THANK YOU SO MUCH, SAIKI. I AM FOREVER INDEBTED TO YOU."

- "Calm down." okay, says the man with a heart rate of 2338297 bpm.

- so yeah, him collecting you from whatever universe you're in becomes a thing... that happens often

- "seriously, where the hell is Y/N?! we have an important biology test today."

- Saiki teleports to you, finding himself inside of a lavish castle.

- "WOOHOO! SAIKI COME HERE! MEET MY NEW FRIENDS!"

- there you are, wearing 16th century clothes, huddled with you new friends around a cauldron.

- "come on, Y/N. we have school."

- "but saiki! I don't want to go back to school after this! at least let me stay for the sacrifice🥺"

- you have never seen saiki teleport you faster.

- you've got to many worlds - mostly fictional, some completely new and magical, and saiki is always there to help you out

- yeah you return his feelings

- saiki knows you like him

- and while he's not ready to admit his feelings in return for you, he knows he'll be there, for you. ☺

wow that was cheesy

no beta, btw. we die like men

ੈ♡˳·˖✶

[mrs-gucci]

Mr. Handsy {Clyde Logan x wife!Reader}

@icarusinthesea :

Okay, okay. I think I've thought of something. Eh, it's a mediocre idea, but it does it for me. Fighting with Clyde followed by sweet, hot, nasty make up sex. I can not think of anything else. But whatever you write I'll love. 🥰

author’s notes: hello, hello! writers block has been hitting HARDCORE as of late, which is kind of a bummer, but luckily I’m feeling a bit better now! @icarusinthesea​ thank you for this request!! I hope it was worth the (very long) wait, and I send love to you, friend <3 <3

warnings: fluff. smut. club brawls. violence against an asshole. protectiveness. dom!Clyde. oral sex (m receiving). rough sex. unprotected sex/creampie.

(possible) tw’s: non-con touching (not by Clyde). physical conflict. sex in a public restroom.

word count: 1.9k

my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox @thepalaceofmelanie @einmal-im-traum @charliesahottie​ @gotham-city-uber-driver​ @gildedstarlight​ @slytheriin2002 clyde’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings​ @icarusinthesea​ @lumdelacour​ @readingreaver​ @eagerforhoney​ @trubluepensfan​ @beachwoodmonet​ if you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, the sign up is linked here and can also be found in my description :)

You had a bad feeling about this place from the very beginning, from the moment you stepped into this stupid sleazy club for your co-worker’s birthday.

Clyde decided to tag along, mainly to hang out with the other poor guys whose wives dragged them along tonight.

The bass pulses your eardrums as you make your way over to the booth that they’d claimed, saying some very loud ‘hi’s’ and ‘hello’s’ to everyone before taking a seat on Clyde’s lap.

Your outfit certainly matches the locale of tonight’s party, sexy and risqué while maintaining at least some coverage and dignity for your larger areas. Clyde’s been having some trouble keeping his eyes, and now that he can, his hands, off you.

His calloused flesh hand runs over your thigh and hip in a soothing manner, mindless in its movements over your exposed skin.

Soon, a good dancing song comes on and no matter how much you try to beg Clyde to join you on the crowded floor, he refuses, insisting that you go have some fun with your friends.

His eyes keep a close watch on you, knowing that unfortunately, it’s highly likely that some bonehead Joe will come along and think he can touch without permission.

He finds himself in a sort of entranced state, watching the way your hips move when you dance, watches your skin bounce and jiggle with each motion, sees the way the multicolored lights bounce off the sequins on your dress…

Sure enough, said bonehead Joe dances his way over to you, not-so-subtly checking you out from a bit of a distance before making his approach.

Clyde almost instantly leaps into action when his hand touches your hip and he slides in behind you. Thinking that the man behind you is Clyde, you start grinding against him a bit more, smirking.

But, only after a second or two, his motions and touch begin to feel awfully foreign. You’ve just truly begun to doubt your dancing partner’s identity when he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Keep dancing like this and I’ll just have to take you home, babygirl.”

Goosebumps form on your skin in disgust the moment you hear an unfamiliar voice, yanking away from his grubby grip.

“How dar—“

“Hey, you!”

Your eyes widen and you look around the man to see a very angry-looking Clyde storming his way over to where you’re standing.

He turns the handsy man around with a hand on his shoulder, then gives him a shove. “Can’t ya see she’s married, asshole? Don’t you ever think ya can just go ‘round here, touchin’ what ain’t yours.”

“Cly—“

“Don’t ya even start with me right now, Y/N. I can’t believe ya didn’t stop ‘im, can’t believe ye kept grindin’ against ‘im.”

Your eyes widen. “Clyde, p-please, it’s not like tha—“

“I thought I told ya t’ can it, Y/N.”

You shudder at his commanding and harsh tone, immediately backing down and biting your lip as the tears swell in your eyes.

The man wears a small smirk, giving Clyde an equally rough shove backwards. “And what, you’re telling me she’s yours? Bullshit she is. Who’d ever wanna marry a one-armed redneck like you?”

Big mistake. Clyde used to just stand down and shut off whenever someone made fun of his disability, but usually now, he just gets fucking pissed.

Sure enough, his jaw clenches and he quickly lunges at Mr. Handsy, forcefully knocking him to the scuffed dance floor. Often times, mostly due to his kind and gentle demeanor, you forget that Clyde’s a veteran. A special ops veteran, at that.

You can’t deny that bearing witness to his unbridled anger and dominance isn’t at least a little bit sexy, even if you do feel incredibly guilty about not realizing sooner that it wasn’t Clyde.

Like the coward he truly is, and that many men like him are, he flees the scene quickly when he looks up and sees the anger in Clyde’s eyes.

Meanwhile, you instantly rush up to him, apologizing repeatedly. “Clyde, I’m so sorry, I thought it was you and I didn’t mean to—“

He snatches your wrist, bending down so that his hot, slightly strained breath wafts across your face. “You’d better yer slutty ass into the restroom right fuckin’ now.” He growls, letting you go.

You nod, whimpering under your breath as you scurry off into the bathroom.

He follows after you, pushing you into the single stall before reaching around to lock the door.

“Clyde, please, I’m so sorry. I promise that I didn’t know it wasn’t you until he spoke and I pulled away right after that. I would never…”

He holds a hand up and you trail off, then crosses it back over his chest along with the other. When you look up at him, ready to apologize further, he gives you a subtle head shake and a faint smile.

“Get m’ cock out.”

You know, then, that he’s not mad, and you know exactly what he wants from you. You step up to him with a small smirk and pop the button on his Levi’s, pulling the zipper down before reaching in to fish out his half-hard length.

“Now stroke it. You know how I like it.”

Your hand holds a steady grip around the protrusion, starting off slow but quickening randomly, just as he likes it.

His head tilts back onto the cheap tiled wall, nostrils flaring as he exhales shakily. “Thaaaaat’s m’ girl, just like that.”

You speed up just a bit, focusing your pressure and ministrations on the upper half of his shaft, moving the little bit of excess skin up and down his shiny pink head.

“Mmmmffhhh.” He groans through pursed lips, hips rutting forward into your touch.

Suddenly, he pushes your hand away, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to cope with the sudden loss of stimulation on his pulsing arousal.

“Knees.”

You get onto your knees, using his shoes as cushioning.

“Mouth open.”

Your jaw falls open and he wastes no time in moving himself into proper position, sheathing himself fully in your mouth.

“Ghhhohhh, s-shit.”

You’re choking right off the bat, shoulders shaking with each violent cough.

“Yeah, take it. Gon’ make ye choke on me, shove m’ cock down yer lil throat ‘till ya can’t breathe no more.”

You somehow manage to moan around him in between your gags and coughs, lungs panicked for the rough cutoff of airflow by Clyde’s length. Tears begin to swell in your eyes, soon running down your cheeks.

His eyebrows are tightly knitted in the center of his forehead, skin glistening with the beginnings of sweat as his hips rut into your cavern even quicker and rougher now.

Clyde has to physically pull himself away from your mouth, shuddering as his cock bobs and throbs angrily at the loss of friction. His hand splays out on the wall, chest heaving as he takes a moment to re-gain composure.

Then, he looks down at you, gaze sizzling your very skin.

“Up. Turn yerself ‘round n’ bend over, ass out n’ legs spread nicely.”

You put yourself into the position, wiggling your ass just a bit for play after pushing your jean shorts down, earning you a harsh smack across your newly-exposed skin. He smirks when you squeal softly, giving himself a few lazy strokes as he steps up behind you, lips instantly attacking your neck.

“Yer gon’ walk outta ‘ere with all o’ my marks on your neck, hickeys n’ bite marks. Maybe then everyone’ll understand who it is ya belong t’."

His chin digs into your shoulder, then he’s thrusting forward, filling you up and stretching you out to the max. You gasp, eyelids fluttering as your eyes roll into the back of your skull.

“Ohhhhh.”

He groans into your ear, chin digging into your shoulder as he begins fucking you fast and hard. There’s nothing gentle or romantic about this union; it’s hunger and wanting, it’s pure carnal lust.

Tears quickly swell up in your eyes at the sweet pleasure currently surging through your body, tickling every nerve ending and igniting every pleasure center. 

It’s humid in the club, the bathroom no exception and already, a sheen of sweat has formed on the surface of your skin. Clyde’s good hand takes an even firmer hold on the meat of your hips, hips thrusting at an impossibly fast pace.

“G’damnit, wrapped ‘round m-me so tight, fffuck Y/N. Such a lil’ cccunt, love shovin’ m’ b-big cock in ya, ssssplittin’ ya right in half--christ.”

You love how his accent gets thicker and thicker at times like this, so much so that sometimes you can’t even make sense of what he’s saying. It’s adorable.

“Mmm, C-Clyde! Please baby, please mmmake me cum!”

His lips latch onto the side of your neck, sucking as hard as they possibly can while he reaches around to rub your clit with the cool metal digits of his prosthetic. 

Your hips instantly grind down on him, a shaky gasp leaving your lips. “Ohh god, mmmmmfffuck--right there! Yes, yes, Clyde!”

“Say y-yer mine.” He growls into your ear, panting. “Tell everyone who ya bbbelong to. Scream ma name w-when ya cum.”

“Y-Yours, all yours, Clyde. I’m yours!” You whimper. 

Clyde fucks you with everything he’s got, biting into your skin and sucking more of the flesh until you’re littered with marks. It’s not long before you’re tumbling over the edge, body trembling as you release all over his shaft with a shout of his name.

“Clyde! C-Clyde, fuck!”

Not long after you, Clyde falls over the edge, desperately rutting and fucking each drop of his hot load deep into your spasming cunt.

“Y/N, g’damnit...fuuuckin’ s-shit!”

Both of you are rendered breathless as you come down from your respective highs. His lips and tongue gently soothe the harsh bites and bruises that have been left behind in his wake. 

He sighs softly when he pulls out, helping you pull your shorts back up before tucking himself back into his pants. When you turn around, he crashes his lips into yours, hands resting gently on your hips. 

“‘m real sorry fer that, Y/N; dunno what got int’ me. I didn’t hurt ya, did I?”

You smile, cradling his face in your hands. “Clyde, there is no need to apologize or feel bad for that. You know if I was uncomfortable, I would’ve stopped you or said something. I loved it, more than I probably should have, and I love you.”

His lips tug up into a soft, lopsided smile, relief flooding across his expression.

“I love ya too, Y/N, so, so much. Thank ya fer puttin’ up with me n’ bein’ mine.”

“No ‘thank you’ necessary, baby. I’m yours, always yours.”

Clyde grins, pulling you in for a hug as he repeats your words out loud.

“All mine.”

[negansbackdoorwhore]

Love Bites Chp. 1

Summary: You began dating Simon, a great and attractive man who made you happy. But lately things seemed to change once Negan had learned about your relationship with his bestfriend

Warnings: smut, swearing, angst, fluff, non apocalyptic

“So, what brings us to this bar?” Negan spoke as all three friends sat upon their stools. Simon and Y/N looked at each other before deciding to speak. She was nervous and Simon held her leg and looked towards Negan.

“Well, we wanted to celebrate. Celebrate, me and Y/N here.”

“What do you mean?”

“He means that we’re dating.” She says as her hand goes over his. He brought an arm over Y/N’s shoulders and see Negan’s eyes going back and forth between the two of them.

“No shit. You two?”

“Yep.” Simon says as he kissed her cheek. Negan masked his emotions by giving a big smile. He had been pursuing Y/N for a couple years now but never thought she would go for his bestfriend. Sure Simon was a great guy but he thought that Y/N would want him instead. Mostly because he flirted nonstop and even got to make out once. But Y/N always just friendzoned him. It sucked but ultimately he wanted her happy.

“Guess I should’ve seen that coming. What with you two getting close and shit. Now Y/N, you treat him bad then I’ll we’ll need a talk. But Simon you treat her bad then I’ll kick your tall ass.”

“Hey! How come I get my ass kicked?”

“Because I’m the lady.”

“Exactly.” They laughed and drank for a bit while Y/N explained to Negan how her and Simon became a couple. He sat trying to stay amused but couldn’t deny how pissed off he was getting. Especially when Simon took her hand to go dance for a bit. Which left him with his watered down whiskey all alone at the bar. He closely watched how close Simon’s hands got her ass and how Y/N smiled at his attention. That should be him.

He had no idea what to do but try and get back by charming some random blonde to go and dance. All he had to do was flash a smile and give her bedroom eyes, then she was wrapped around his finger. He took her to the floor and shifted towards Simon and Y/N. The music was loud and lights of different colors were flashing. Negan’s touch was seductive as he brought her back into his chest and held her hips to move with his. His eyes however would go to his friends and watched them both smiling and laughing while talking in each other’s ears. He accidentally gripped hard on the girl’s hip and heard her yelp. He apologized quickly and reached turn her to face him. Negan felt a tap on his arm and turned to see Simon.

“Hey man, Y/N and I are splitting. You seem to have your attention elsewhere and she really wants to get outta here.”

“Fine, see ya later man.” His eyes watched Y/N lead Simon by the hand to leave. He felt his stomach twist and returned his face to the blonde. Long story short, he fucked her in the woman’s restroom and left. He didn’t care much as he payed his tab and went home.

-

Y/N was with Simon all sweaty after fulfilling their desires after the bar. He had her laying on his chest and heard her shallow breath.

“Wow. That was something.” He said as his arms squeezed her body.

“I know, you think that Negan is okay with us?”

“Yeah, he’s totally fine. Remember he had blondie on his arm.”

“You’re right. What do you wanna do now?”

“Hmm. Not sure, maybe we could just stay like this for a bit.”

“You mean a macho man like yourself wants to cuddle?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oooh do I see you blushing because you wanna cuddle?”

“Shut it. I didn’t mean that.”

“C’mon don’t get shy now.” Y/N giggled as she continued teasing Simon. It kept on all night but he never stopped holding her in his arms.

[starlightxsvt]

Fated

Pairing: Seungcheol x female reader

Genre: mafia/gang au, exes to lovers, action, slight smut

Warnings: cursing, fighting and stuff

A/N: Happy Seungcheol Day everyone! This is for our birthday boy~ I tried to keep it short but it got outta hand so whoops, strap in for the ride. Also, I'll really appreciate it if you took a minute to let me know what you thought about this cuz this took me a looot of time to write and my eyes and hands hurt really bad. Anyway enjoy!

Never in a hundred years did you expect to meet Seungcheol in the club your cousin had invited you all to. She had just returned from abroad and her wedding was taking place the next week hence it was a long awaited get together. Of course she had arranged it in one of the finest clubs in the city, the one you always wanted to visit but your regular plain desk job couldn't really afford.

You first took notice of Seungcheol when you were on your way back from the restroom, him sitting in the back, more secluded area of the club with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His eyes met yours and they went wide like saucers, a look of displease crossing his face, a rather exaggerated expression - you thought. Sure, you two were exes and went through a salty breakup but his expression was rude and brought back unwanted, sad memories. You contemplated on talking to him but he saved you from that. Standing up in a flash, he walked over to you and hissed, "What are you doing here?" His tone made your blood boil and your initial thoughts of being polite to him went down the drain, "Gee, Mr. Choi, I know I'm not someone your worthy but this is a public place and you don't own it!" You snapped at him. His eyes turned dark as he clenched his teeth and spoke, "For fucks sake, what the fuck are you doing here?" His eyes raked over your body covered in a snug deep wine colored dress.

"I'm here for shopping. Why the fuck would I be here Seungcheol?" You spat, clearly annoyed by his behaviour. Seungcheol let out a frustrated sigh, hands combing through his hair as he muttered curses under his breath.

"Listen, you shouldn't be here, Y/n", he spoke trying to calm down and held your arms. "Woah there, Choi, get your hands off me. Who are you to tell me where I should or should not be?"

Seungcheol looked like he could punch someone as he clenched his jaw tight and gave you a look that made your knees weak, "I'm not fucking around, Y/n, you should not be here."

"What the hell Seungcheol? What is your problem? I'm here to attend my cousin's party. And for the record, we're not together anymore so stop interfering in my life."

Seungcheol opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by one of the suited men behind him who murmured something in his ear that only seemed to infuriate him. He turned towards you, "You- fuck, you should not be here. A deal is gonna go down here."

It took you a couple seconds to put two and two together and a sudden wave of agitation passed through you. You whispered, "You're kidding, right?"

Seungcheol was no ordinary man. He was tenacious and confident- too confident for someone who regularly killed people and ran his underworld business. You figured it out during the time you two were together and you didn't try to dig further for your own good.

"You have no idea what-" Seungcheol was interrupted when one of your cousins appeared out of the blue, "Hey Y/n! Where have you-" her voice trailed off when she saw you with Seungcheol and a smirk appeared on her face, "Oops, sorry, I'll leave you two to it." And as quickly as her came, she left, leaving a panicked you and an outraged Seungcheol. "Can you please explain what's going on?" You whispered to Seungcheol in hope of some enlightenment.

"They got Chan, okay? These mother fucking group of traffickers got Chan and asked for a ransom. They're now here for the money."

Oh no. Your heart sank at the mention of Chan's kidnapping, Seungcheol's younger brother. He was always a pleasure to spend time with when Seungcheol left for business for a long time. "That's bad," is all you could mumble as your mushed brain tried to decipher the situation. "Are you gonna give them the money?" Seungcheol scoffed, "Of course not. Those fuckers are long due for jail. Once I get Chan we're gonna blow out their brains."

You gulped. " It's too late to leave for us right?"

"Yes," Seungcheol replied, his lips forming a thin line. He looked past you, probably towards the entry of the bar and quickly shoved you away, "Go to your friends and stay put. When the firing starts hide behind the counter. Only try leave if there's no firing. Otherwise stay put, you hear me?" You nodded your head robotically, mind racing a mile a minute as you walked back to your cousins, trying to appear calm. Every nerve on your body was alert and goosebumps rose on your skin as you watched a man in a flashy white suit walk up to Seungcheol and his guards, followed by a disheveled looking Chan. You felt bad for him, seeing his normally lit face etched with exhaustion. You ignored the comments your cousins made about you and Seungcheol, waiting for things to start. You carefully looked over to the entrance of the bar and sure enough two tall men stood over there. You really had no way out.

And as expected, all of a sudden, loud gunfires echoed through the room followed by people screaming as you and your cousins quickly took shelter behind the bar counter.

"Oh my god what the fuck is happening?"

"Y/n what the hell is your ex doing?"

"You never told us he's a gangster or shit."

You ignored your cousins rather untimely interrogations thinking of a way out. The bar was a mess, broken glass pieces everywhere, the people who came to enjoy all crouched down covering their heads. You heard continuous gunfires, people groaning and bodies slumping on the floor which only made your cousins voice their panic more.

"Shit we're gonna die."

"My wedding is next week, fuck."

Your eyes peered over to the entrance which was now not occupied by any threating looking men as they were busy fighting. You all could've gotten out if it weren't for the continuous firings.

You and your cousins held your breath for a few moments until a particularly loud firing was heard followed by the sound of breaking glass. You spied from behind the counter to see Seungcheol dropping down on the floor with a groan and Chan's scream of his brother's name.

Shit. Seungcheol was shot.

Chan seemed furious, no more exhaustion on his face as he lunged for the man in the flashy white suit and hitting him square in the jaw.

"Guys, now's the chance, get out of here. Go, go."

"What the fuck Y/n? Don't tell me you're gonna stay here."

"We're not leaving you to die in the middle of a crossfire."

"No, guys, I'll be fine. Seungcheol's shot."

"What? I thought you guys weren't a thing anymore-"

"Please, get your asses outta here if you don't wanna die."

Despite their will you pushed your cousins towards the exit with a promise of calling them as soon as you could, while they called you names to point out your less than smart decision and of course your never leaving feelings for Seungcheol. As soon as they were out the door, you rushed over to Seungcheol who sat against the wall, jaw clenched as he held onto his shoulder.

"Y/n what the fuck? Get out of here- why the fuck- ugh, dammit."

"You're shot Seungcheol, maybe stop talking" You applied pressure to his bloody shoulder while Chan who sat atop of the man in the flashy white suit and twisted both his hands back and gave you an incredulous look, "Y/n? Wha- uhm, I thought- you two broke up...?"

"Uh...it's a.... coincidence, I guess. I think we need to get your brother to a doctor, you know" You murmured.

"Yea right," Chan agreed and handed his hostage over to Seungcheol's guard not before punching him in the lower stomach. "I'd kill you but that'd be a mercy. You deserve to suffer, you son of a bitch."

He helped Seungcheol to stand up with you as you both gently took him out of the club and into his limousine, all the while Seungcheol saying that he was alright.

The car ride to his place was quick but silent, except Chan who sat beside the driver once spoke to let you know that it was good to see you. Seungcheol rested his head on your shoulder as he let out uneven breathes and you applied pressure to his wound.

"I guess you... really... can't escape...fate, huh?" He whispered and you frowned at him. "What do you mean?" You asked him but he only replied with a chuckle, his body getting heavier against yours. Your heart ached for the man. You were never over him, you knew that deep down. Hell, your cat even knew that.

Seeing Seungcheol's large mansion again brought back sad memories but you couldn't really focus on them. His servants rushed Seungcheol into the small infirmary of the house where a doctor was waiting.

You stayed outside, anxiously tapping your foot against the marbled floor while quickly typing a message to your cousin letting her know you were okay before putting your phone on mute.

The family doctor appeared with good news, saying his wound wasn't that bad and only a few stitches had it covered. While Seungcheol was transferred to his bedroom, Chan called you to the large dining hall to offer you a glass of water.

"Are you gonna stay the night? Should I set up a room for you?"

"Uh, um, no maybe I'll stay by Seungcheol's side," you replied, avoiding eye contact.

"Sure," was all he said as a smirk took over his lips. We're you really that obvious?

It was past 12 when you decided to peek into Seungcheol's room, after you stole a pair of night suit from his closet which was uncomfortably large for you. You sat by his bed, taking in the way he looked while sleeping. His injured shoulder was casted in a sling and his hand rested over his naked chest. Small scratches were painted over his chiseled face and you lightly stroked them. You relished the bittersweet memories you had with him in this room, from all the romantic nights to the fights. Before you knew, you were asleep.

You woke up to Seungcheol's hand softly stroking your cheek. Your eyes met his and warmth spread on your cheeks. You looked at the clock. It was almost four.

"How do you feel?" You croaked, sitting up from the stool by his bed.

"I'm good." Seungcheol was a strong man. You knew his body had gone through a lot and judging by how he looked, you took his word for it.

"You stayed," he whispered. His face was illuminated by the moonlight coming from the open balcony doors, the face of an angel. You only nodded, transfixed by his beauty, hoping he couldn't see your embarrassed face. "What did you mean by that? The thing you said in the car," you spoke and Seungcheol carefully sat up. He sighed and leaned against the headboard before meeting your eyes. He looked...pained. "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I never broke up with you because you weren't enough. You were more than anything I ever wanted. I broke up with you because...I was...scared." He swallowed. "Things were not really going according to my plan back then and...this mother fucking gang was threating to harm you. I... couldn't let that happen, Y/n, so...I broke up with you."

You stare at him, incredulous. "You...you have some serious issues, Choi Seungcheol." You whispered. Seungcheol chuckled softly, " You- you mean the world to me. I was so scared something would happen to you if you stayed with me. I know I made an awful decision and I said awful things to you-"

"No shit, Seungcheol, your words weren't exactly the most helpful for my already insecure self." You spat.

"I know, and I'm so, so sorry." He sighed, his head dropping down, "What happened yesterday only proved that I really can't escape fate."

"So you are saying we are fated to be together?"

"Aren't we? I mean, look at us."

You laughed softly before saying, "I'm still mad at you, you know." Seungcheol smiled at you as he took your hand and planted a soft kiss, "You can take out all your anger on me if that means you're gonna give me another chance."

"I'll...have to think about it," was your reply even though you knew your answer. "That's great. That's more than I deserve." Seungcheol mumbled. "Can I hold you?" He softly asked. You scooted closer to him, careful to avoid his injured shoulder as he passed his other hand around your waist. His faces inches away from you, he spoke, "You are the most beautiful thing that happened to me, Y/n and I'm sorry I let you down like that. I promise you, if you give me another chance I'll make it all up to you. I'll make you the happiest woman alive. Come back to me, baby."

You gulped feeling emotional as you replied, "Okay but you need to get well first you know." Seungcheol's eyes bored into yours, his chocolate orbs getting more intense by the seconds before he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and short before he pulled back to assess your reaction. When you didn't resist, he pulled you in for a messy, hot kiss that left tingles all over your body. Before you knew it, you were in his lap, tugging at his hair as he nipped across your neck and shoulders. There was no way this wasn't gonna end up with you underneath him if you didn't stop him. "Seungcheol...stop it. You're hurt."

"I could have half of my body ripped open and still not resist you baby, you are divine."

"Uhm, that's concerning but okay. Why don't we get some sleep now?" You pulled back from him and a pout took over his face.

"You are seriously not thinking about having sex right now, are you?"

"Why not? It has been so long and I miss you."

"I get it horny boy but no. How about we cuddle now and when you are fully healed you can keep me in your bed all day."

A devilish smirk took over his face that made you squirm, "Is that a promise sweetheart?"

You nodded shyly before gently lying on his uninjured arm and wrapping a hand around his torso. Damn, it felt good.

Seungcheol kissed the top of your head as you snuggled closer. He whispered, "Promise me you'll stay."

"I will," you smiled.

"Unless my cousins find my location and drag me out of here tomorrow."

[imaginesbymk]

“Something’s Wrong with Mr. Pink.”

Reservoir Dogs One Shot

Summary: There’s been spark between you and Mr. Pink, but he’s one to shield his emotions. He realizes he’s starting to lose you, but he’s out of ways to win your heart. Desperate, he approaches Mr. White for help.

Pairing: Mr. Pink x Fem!Reader

Tags: swearing, sexist remarks, smoking + mentions of drug use (marijuana)

Non Requested

Word Count: 2,054

Author’s Note: as you can tell, quentin tarantino movies have been on my list!!! the reader is codenamed Miss Beige!! i never thought i’d have this much appreciation for steve buscemi until now, he’s such a cool guy :(((  also thank you @myriadimagines​ for checking my title capitalization aksnskdns - leave a like/reblog + feedback!!! <333

MR. BROWN gave Mr. Pink a ride to the next meeting, and the whole trip there, Brown rambled on and on about God knows what. It came through one ear and out the other for Pink. Brown didn’t seem to notice because of his investment of his proven theory of a movie he had seen and wanted to share it with someone. 

If he wasn’t listening in silence, Pink would always have something to say. It would usually be a comment, an opinion on something about social life. This one afternoon, he bit his tongue, despite the guys knowing his mind was occupied, even Nice Guy Eddie raised a brow. It didn’t start the day they were all given your colour coded names. It didn’t start the day they reviewed the plan of the heist with each other. It all started when you two were unintentionally left alone at the large dining table, moments after the guys had walked out the restaurant for something.

“Pink’s a pretty colour.” You gave him a reassuring smile, stirring your straw in your milkshake.

“To you.” 

“And to anyone else who would want to be codenamed Pink!” you scoff. “Sexist.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re Miss Beige,” he says, his mouth full of his toast. 

“And I happen to like my name. It’s a pretty colour,” you paused. “Just like pink.”

Pink huffs, swirling his coffee mug. “I can’t wait to smoke.”

“Lucky.”

“My buddy sets up Thai sticks like it’s one of those model boats in a bottle. It’s so fragile to him, and he saved one for me. Something tells me I owe him a shit ton.”

“You smoke Thai sticks?” you ask. “Your poor lungs.”

“Nah, I gotta smoke outta one anytime after coffee just for me to either black out or jump off the Empire State building by the time we hit Easter.”

You chuckled.

From the windows of the restaurant, you could see the guys standing outside their parked cars including Nice Guy Eddie and Joe, talking to each other about whatever. You could see their mouths moving, Nice Guy Eddie using a lot of hand motions at Mr. White, and Joe calling someone on the phone.

This wasn’t the first time you spent a limited amount of minutes alone with Mr. Pink. At Uncle Bob’s Pancake House, you two did sit close to each other, except Mr. Blue sat in between the both of you, and you had to lean forward to see Mr. Pink if he was speaking or if you two were giving each other looks if someone said something stupid.

If you were that childish, you would've considered the five minutes of alone time with Mr. Pink a first date - without the formal introduction. You two didn’t give each other your names because of Joe, but you wouldn’t mind slipping it out.

Silence, and then-

“I know this really cool café near my apartment. We should check it out sometime,” you blurted out.

Pink was in the midst of swallowing his food. He chokes on his ketchup dipped toast, taking his coffee mug to chase the contents down his throat.

“Wait a minute-” Pink cleared his throat, then cleared it again. “Are you-” he cleared his throat for the final time. “Are you asking me out?”

“Y-yeah,” you sheepishly smile, holding in your breath. “I mean, we can go get coffee, hang out at my place afterwards - it’s just a five minute walk - and sit on my couch, listen to K-Billy’s Super Sounds of the ‘70s, you can smoke your Thai stick, I wouldn’t mind...” By looking at Pink’s face made you trail off your words. You knew where this was going. 

“You couldn’t ask Brown or Orange?”

“No, I wanted to ask you. We’ve been talking lately, we seem to get along, thank God, and you’re really cool. Even when you can be an absolute dick almost all the time, you haven’t scared me off. Just one date, it won’t kill us.”

“A date...” he frowns a bit. “With you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” your heart sank.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Miss Beige. Ya just got the wrong idea. We’re here for a job, not to hook up. If you want to suck someone off, try your luck with Mr. Blonde. Besides, I go for chicks at a bar. I know from experience, they’re always coming in hot - first come, first serve typa’ shit.”

“Right. My bad.” You felt yourself shrinking now, fighting the urge to get up and make a dash outta there, somewhere to scream in embarrassment, whatever emotion it was. 

“Excuse me.” Mr. Pink gets up and walks away, just as the rest of the guys start making their return to the large table.

“Where did Mr. Pink go?” Mr. Orange asked.

“Little men’s room, I’m guessing.” You sighed, sliding the milkshake away from you. “I’m full.”

“Something’s wrong with Mr. Pink. Did you guys get in a fight? We were only gone for five minutes,” Mr. Brown laughs.

You sat in silence, staring down.

“Nah, I bet she finally put him in his place and he’s crying like a baby in there,” Mr. Blue said, lighting the cigar in his mouth with a match.

“Most definitely not.” Mr. White shook his head, patting his pockets in search of his lighter. “That man’s a smartass, and smartasses like him know how to shield themselves. He’s fine. If anything, he can walk his ass home.”

Meanwhile, Mr. Pink calmly entered the restroom, placed both hands on each side of the tiny sink, stared at his reflection in the dirty mirror, and screamed in anger. 

He jumps when he notices a man had appeared from one of the stalls just a moment ago, staring at him worriedly.

“WHAT?!” Mr. Pink snaps.

If someone treated him like a friend, he goes along with it if they weren’t weird or creepy. If someone told a joke, he’ll laugh if it isn’t corny or cringeworthy. But if someone admitted their feelings to him? Let alone ask him out?

That was the thing: Mr. Pink doesn’t like the idea of vulnerability. He’s aware that it’s unavoidable, it’s human nature - he just chooses not to give into it. Mr. Pink won’t waste a breath giving anyone the impression that he’s easy to get along with and that he’s a kind of guy to not act like a complete jerk half the time, because that’s not true. Not on his behalf, at least. 

“Mr. White,” Mr. Pink approaches him in the vacant room at the hideout one day.

He knows people can judge. So he naturally survives on witty remarks, being a sarcastic ass most of the time, and coffee, coffee, and more coffee. Coffee times six. 

Mr. White finishes combing his hair in the small mirror, nodding at him as a response. “You all right, son?”

But at the same time, his heart was telling him he wants you all to himself.  “I got a problem...”

"SO you want my help?” Mr. White said, a few moments after Mr. Pink had explained the situation he was stuck in. “You’re completely hopeless right now? Gosh, is it my birthday already?”

“You’re full of shit,” Pink mumbled.

“Thought you’re s’posed to be a fuckin’ professional, like you said?” Mr. White chuckled. “I would have thought you would know what to do by now.”

“What am I, the Dalai Lama? I don’t know the answer to everything.”

“I mean... I kinda figured something was goin’ on between you two, I tried to warn her,” White shoots him a blank stare.

“Warn her?” Mr. Pink scowls. “Like I’m some fuckin’ tiger on the loose?”

“I did tell her: Listen, honey,” Mr. White grimaced, as he saw you like a sixteen-year-old teenager not knowing better than to get her heart broken. “Are you one hundred percent sure you like Mr. Pink? He’s a pretty cynical guy. You know he doesn’t tip waitresses?”

You shrug.

“Look, I know I can be very close to myself while very outspoken but,” Mr. Pink sighs. “I mean, c’mon, you’ve seen Miss Beige. Who wouldn’t want her? One time, she called in sick for a job she worked at just to play Super Mario World.”

“You could go there and apologize to her.”

“It’s not that easy, White.”

“How so? Just tell her you freaked out but you had a change of heart.”

“No, man. I could have accepted it right there and then, I could be taking her out somewhere, a place she likes, or that café she was talking about. But no, I turn into the cold piece of shit I always am ‘cause I’m a fucking-” Mr. Pink kicks the rusty chair in anger. “-idiot!” He kicks it again, hurting his foot in the process. He cries out in pain and hops away to the table for balance.

“Mr. Pink, it’s not too late to win her heart. If you really like her, and I can tell you’d take a bullet for her, then brush the professionalism aside for one second and make your move.”

“How?” he chuckles, taking a seat in the chair he had just kicked.

“Well, you can start by introducing yourself.”

“Already done.”

“No I mean, your name.”

“Whoa, whoa whoa. What we’re not gonna do is that.” Mr. Pink ran his fingers through his hair, turning his back to White to therapeutically stare at the light pink tiles on the walls. 

“Why not?” White shrugs. “I told her mine. And it’s-”

Mr. Pink turned around. “What?”

Mr. White furrowed his brows. “Huh?”

“You told her your name?” he said. In his mind he prayed Mr. White gave her a fake name on the spot.

“I mean, not just her. Mr. Orange, too. My first name and where I was from, it was a normal conversation.”

“...WHY?!” Pink’s voice echoed in the warehouse.

“Orange asked.”

“You know what Joe said, we’re not supposed to reveal any personal info about ourselves!”

“Joe said this, Joe said that- fucking teacher’s pet,” Mr. White mocks.

“What the hell were you thinking, White?” he shouts.

“How else can you and Miss Beige take a step further if you can’t even tell each other your fuckin’ names? Just introduce yourself, Pink. That’s one way to start,” Mr. White says.

“And what if she doesn’t like my name?” He could only come up with such a question like that.

“What is your name?” 

“Fuck you, man.” Mr. Pink stood up from the chair, earning a chuckle from his colleague.

“All right, if you won’t tell me your name, then tell y/n. Y/n should be the only one who can know.”

Mr. Pink turned back to him again. “Y/N?” he says. “That’s her name?”

Mr. White nods. As heated as Mr. Pink was, he knew one day your name would have to fall out of his lips and not a colour, and he wouldn’t mind that. Y/N...

Mr. Pink wouldn’t mind that one bit.

FROM now on, the café near your apartment complex would be your go-to. It was a café not too small but not too big, and no one would bat an eye if you showed up in your pajamas. The following Saturday you went there alone, sipping your coffee and turning to the second page of the morning paper. 

What sucked was the fact that after you were turned down, you came to think that Mr. Pink wouldn’t be able to see how cool the interior was. He sure was missing out. Sure his Thai stick won’t be stinking up your living room while throwback songs from the ‘70s play on the radio, but indeed, sucks for him.

“Shit, you were right, y/n. This place is pretty neat.”

The newspaper crinkled when you lowered it down. Standing at the foot of your booth was Mr. Pink. This time he didn’t have on his silly Hawaiian shirt like last time, and no, he didn’t ironically wear pink as a kind gesture. He did look good in a white tee, though. 

You had to smile. He knew your name. And you wondered how...

“Oh, Mr. Pink. Morning,” you nodded.

He takes a seat in front of you. “C’mon, we’re not at work. Just call me—”

THE END

—

TAGLIST: @locke-writes

[glassbxttless]

Hi! Just here to remind you that this is an AU and Han isn’t actually a piece of shit like I’m making him out to be in here (:

This is also the final part in this little piece of the AU. I might start expanding it though (: (I’m sorry if it makes y’all sad. Just putting Matty through it /: )

Matt Solo x Reader

Part Three

Word Count: 1,807

Warnings: mentions of child abuse, abuse, swearing

You’re awake before Matt is, Randy’s still asleep on the futon and Ben isn’t in the room. You climb down off the bunk bed and your thighs are sticky from the night before. And you’re searching for the bathroom to clean up just a little before you face Han and Leia for the day.

Once you settle yourself into the restroom and wash up a bit, you instantaneously hear the yelling, the skin against skin slap. “Jesus fucking Christ— I just woke up.” Matt’s voice is gravely. “Can I eat something before I get your bitch fit, Han?”

And then everything goes quiet for a while. Matt’s never called his father by his first name to his face. He grabs the orange juice from the fridge, Ben is smoking a cigarette on the back stoop. Leia is stunned by the exchange between her husband and youngest son for a moment. You’re standing in the hall, just watching Matt pour himself a glass and takes a drink. He isn’t even wearing his glasses at this point. His face is bright red on one part of his cheek.

You pick the glasses up off of the ground, noticing the crack in the lenses, and walk towards him, handing them over quietly. “Do you wanna leave?” You ask him quietly as you slip them onto his face. He flinches just a bit, the stinging in his cheek is inevitable.

“Not yet. Got some shit to figure out this weekend.” He mumbles as he downs the rest of the glass. “I won’t hit him back.” You tuck a strand of his hair back and take a look at his cheek. “I’m fine, Sunny. Happens a lot.”

“He hit you?” You ask quietly and he just tips his head back and steps away to join Ben on the stoop, asking for a cigarette.

You take a deep breath as Leia looks at the boys on the stoop. “Does that really happen often?” You ask her as she starts cooking breakfast.

“Unfortunately.” She says quietly, “hasn’t done it in so long… I thought they were doing better.” She sighs.

“He doesn’t smoke at home.” You point out and move closer to offer your help with breakfast.

“Being around his dad and Ben does that to him.” She says softly as she starts frying up the bacon. You cut a potato into small pieces. Matt was upset as soon as he woke up that morning. Getting the shit smacked outta him when he walks into the living room for having sex under his roof. He’d gotten a good one in too, his face was still sore.

“I didn’t tell him.” Ben says softly as he flicks his cigarette out. “Guess he heard.” They’d been sitting together quietly, unsure of what to say. They’d each gotten their fair share of slaps and punches. They’d also gotten their fair share in. But Matt was almost thirty now, he wasn’t seventeen anymore. He wasn’t about to punch his dad's lights out for slapping him. He had a lot more shit to deal with and it’d definitely be a lot harder than he was intending.

“I don’t care, honestly.” Matt flicks the ashes away and takes another long pull from his own cigarette. “I’ll fuck my fiancée wherever I wanna fuck her. I’ll do it in his fucking bed next time. I don’t care.” He shrugs again. “I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Sunny wanting to meet you guys. Woulda went another fucking year not talking to him.” He puts the cigarette out against the concrete and places the butt down, rubbing over his face.

Ben sighs and pulls the spare pair of glasses from his jacket pocket, handing them over to him. “Here. Shouldn’t be looking through cracked lenses.” The silver frames are shaped a bit different from the usual gold pair he wears, but the prescription is right and he’d do anything to get that giant line out of his vision. “Keep your glasses and Randy’s contacts on me, in case you need them.” He says softly.

Matt almost smiles as he exchanges the glasses. “Thank you.” He says softly.

Ben nudges his shoulder, “he’s just mad he isn’t getting laid.” Matt laughs softly and smiles, glancing at his hands. “I’m sorry. For what I did before.” Ben says quietly. “I don’t have any excuses for it— but I am sorry… and I’m really glad to see you happy.”

“Thank you.” Matt says softly and wrings his hands a bit. Both boys turn their heads when Leia opens the door, smiling sadly.

“Matthew? Let’s take a look at that, huh?” She says quietly as she moves past them to crouch in front of them.

“Mom, I’m fine.” He says softly. He may have always been a little upset that his mother never left him after he first hit Randy in one of his rage fits. “Barely hit me.” He lies as Leia looks him over.

“Don’t lie to your mama.” She says quietly as you step out to check on Matt as well. You were ready to get the weekend over, to go home. And you wouldn’t ever ask Matt to come here again, if he didn’t want to. “I’m sorry that he did that.” And that flipped a switch in Matt’s brain, one that couldn’t ignore what his mother let happen to them.

“You’re only sorry that you stayed with him.” Matt says and pushes her hands away a bit. “I’m twenty-nine and you’re still kissing his ass.” You bite your lip gently and walk forward to place your fingers against his bare shoulder.

“Matty? Be nice.”

“I don’t have to be nice to anyone here.” Matt snaps, his eyes are filling with tears and his chest is tight. “You and Randy are the only two people who haven’t fucked me over in one way or another.” Ben sits there awkwardly, you wrap Matt in your arms as Leia looks at him genuinely hurt. “I didn’t want to come here.” His voice is shaking. Almost thirty years of holding it all in and he’s breaking down in your arms. “I didn’t want to see any of you.”

You press kisses into his hair and ask Ben and Leia both to give you a minute.

Ben obliges and pulls Leia back into the house. Randy catches sight of them coming back inside and raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay?” And Leia just shakes her head.

Matt cries, pressing his face against your chest. And you aren’t sure if you’ve ever really seen him cry since you’ve been together. Matt hid his vulnerability so well, replaced it with anger, did his best to be better for you. You didn’t need anyone that wasn’t able to handle himself. “Let it out.” You whisper into his hair and gently run your nails up and down his back. “We can go home.” You say to him quietly. “And we don’t have to come back.”

Matt takes a few deep breaths and presses a deep kiss into the skin of your chest. “I should say something…” he wipes his eyes and you take in the appearance of the different frames. “I love you so much… but please, don’t ask me to come back here again.” His voice is quiet and you just nod.

“Go get dressed, Matty. I’ll drive us home.” She says quietly as you help him stand. And when you go inside and hear Han say something about Matt crying like a little bitch. You’re the one that loses your shit. “Excuse me?” You cock an eyebrow up as you push Matt forward to his bedroom. He’s so used to being the one in charge. The one that deals with your bullshit, but here he was so vulnerable and you are sticking up for him. “He’s allowed to cry. Especially when he has to deal with this bullshit. You should all be thankful he even agreed to come here because all you’ve done is treat him like shit.” You're pointing at Han now.

Matt re-emerges from the room with a t-shirt on now and his backpack pulled onto his back. His hair is disheveled and his face is splotchy. But he’s spent. He’s ready. He looks at his family quietly and takes them in. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be in the same room as them all again. Not until there’s a funeral.

And he thinks that maybe he should try with his brothers more, forgive his parents, and keep his distance from them. He needs his own boundaries. He needs to learn how to deal with his own emotions in a proper way. “Sunny.” He snaps his fingers and points to the spot beside him. You’d be offended if he didn’t wrap his arm around your shoulders and take a deep breath. “Ben, Randy, dinner at my apartment on Saturday?”

Randy nods, smiling a bit. “Of course… you need help with your stuff?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Matt nods and passes his bag to him before looking at his parents. He leaves your side for just a moment to pull his mom into a tight hug. He’d continue to call her and maybe in the future he’d be okay with inviting her over for dinners too. He kisses her head and smiles a bit. He even moves to hug his dad, knowing in his heart that he really doesn’t want to see him again. And he smiles tightly when Han rubs his head and says I love you, kid. He just nods.

You carry your own bag outside to where Randy was putting Matt’s into the car. “He doesn’t deserve this.” Randy says to you quietly. “He’s smart. He gotta outta here for a reason.” He shuts the back door and turns to look at you, “thank you for taking care of him, you know? He’s too smart for himself. Can’t take care of shit.” You chuckle. “And make sure he knows we’re here for him.”

Matt walks outside and heads straight for the car. You thank Randy quietly and climb into the driver's seat. Ben steps out and raps on the window with his knuckle until Matt rolls it down. And Ben offers Matt and Randy both another cigarette which they all enjoy. Ben smiles, “hey. We’re alright.” He shrugs. “You’re alright, Matt. Doesn’t matter what happens.”

“Still our baby brother.” Randy chirps with the cigarette between his lips and Matt turns a deep shade of red.

There was still so much you didn’t know about Matt’s family. But this one night— not even full weekend— has shown you why Matt stays so distant. And you reach over to take a long draw from Matt’s cigarette which has you all laughing. “Dinner on Saturday?” You confirm with the three of them who all just nod.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

*

*

@sacklerscumrag @mrs-zimmerman @miraclesabound @fizzywoohoo @roanniom @thepriceofstars @2000andwhat @loganluckylover @themuseic

[tigerdrop]

okay kind of obsessed with the body swap art tho. idk why i just like benrey getting to bully gordon with his own body, his own voice, and i like gordon trying to navigate whatever weird shit benrey’s got going on. gordon not being able to figure out or control whatever organs in benrey’s throat produce sweet voice so it’s just spewing whatever emotions he’s feeling at random (including Horny? uh oh. can’t hide that as easily as a surprise boner can you gordon?)

this ask kicked me into actually thinking about it and your brain is so huge. massive. i lost control

last night i was struggling to articulate thoughts for the body swap thing but this is kickstarting me. i. really love bodyswap stuff........(sighing) i am yet again having to confront the fact that i latched onto an embarrassing number of Things after having first read about them in [REDACTED]. truly hate being alive

so like......potions. you can get into a whole lot of weird stuff with potions. truly loving that darnolds 5-minute existence gives me an excuse to think of the stupidest horny potions scenarios

and why in the fuck wouldnt he have a bodyswap potion just chillin in his lab. why wouldnt benrey crack that bad boy open and take a sip while darnolds bitching at him "dont you touch any of those goddamn potions. im not gonna tell you which ones which so if you die, you die"

gordon claps benrey on the back afterwards like "well, thats a risk im perfectly happy for him to take" but uh oh you fucking buffoon. the touch is what activates it. and shit just starts spinning and schlorping in his mind and he nearly falls over clutching the lab bench next to him and when he cracks his eyes back open, hes........shorter. and everybodys asking if somebodys okay but that somebody isnt him and hes kind of miffed about that

and then gordons head turns and he sees Himself being steadied on his feet by tommy and darnold and hes like.......guys? guys. hello! and the sound of benreys voice coming out of him with that irritated and loud timbre makes everybody turn to face him........b/c that is so insanely weird coming from him

im like way into the idea of benreys, like, Eye Darkness Thing transferring to gordons face when their bodies are swapped, too. its just his malevolent energies manifesting physically no matter what body hes in

Wait god wait. Like. Benrey in Gordon's body and he gets horny for some reason and has to live Gordon's fucking pained life of the suit edging the hell outta him- Bc now Gordon can actually fucking jerk off for the the first time in days. No edging bullshit from the hev suit

benreys newfound appreciation for why gordons such a bitch all the time

RRRRRRRRRRR gordon able to go wild beating his meat that night finally but right before he does he stops because hes looking down at. 8)!

YES EXACTLY....... gordon freeman humbled by the sight of benreys huge meat. except its his meat now 

at first he only feels mildly weird about jacking it when hes not even in his own body right now but hes been edged for days now and hes just thinking "if i can just get this out of the way now, ill be clear-headed for however fucking long im stuck in black mesa. maybe this is why ive been so goddamn stupid lately. yeah"

but then he gets some time and space to himself at long last and unzips and the shock of seeing benreys huge uncut dick instead of his own brings him back to reality like "?oh my god what the fuck am i doing"

embarrassment! guilt! but also hes still fuckin horny and eventually curiosity wins out. whats the harm, right. its not like he has to say anything about it. and gordon freeman is (mostly) heterosexual and hes never been this up close and personal with a foreskin before and hes just......curious. scientifically

maybe hes even.......locked himself inside one of the company restrooms while hes at it. just to make sure hes got privacy. and there is a mirror right there........  he was gonna just bust one out and leave as fast as he can but now hes curious

starts. thumbing the hem of his shirt under benreys vest. starts lifting it up experimentally just to see where all that hair leads. out of curiosity. and seeing the curve of benreys stomach peek out in the mirror makes him hiccup on sweet voice inadvertently 

weirdly enough theres a part of him thats both relieved and disappointed that hes never seen that color before

he never envisioned that seeing benrey like this would be a turn-on but like......with that vest and that helmet on he just looks like some kind of fuckin roundish rectangle shape. but now gordons intimately familiar with how his body feels to move around in......what hes gotta look like underneath all that armor and ill-fitting work clothes......and the hornier he gets the stupider he gets

takes off the helmet.......just to test the waters. if somebody manages to bust in, thats not so weird to explain. and hes surprised by the shock of black hair he finds under there. he doesnt know what he was expecting....but honestly, benrey looks, like, kind of nice like that. more like a person

im slightly obsessed with the idea of benrey just not even registering as a Real Guy, physically, to gordon, one that he could possibly be attracted to, until hes out of his work uniform.......like hes more of an icon of a person than anything up until that point. pure signifier. no substance

like......you know......the equivalent of how benreys HL model registers to 99% of people watching the series. sure, thats not necessarily anything youd register as "hot", most likely, but then u peel that away and its like........Oh

the model is the icon and the representation of the icon is the real

and gordon runs a hand thru benreys hair and tries out one of those shitty little smirks benrey likes to use on him and the effect is.......dizzying. is that him? is that what benrey really looks like to him?? he feels fuckin salacious doing this

he can even.........get his face up close to the mirror and really look at those teeth

run his tongue over them experimentally.......feel their sharp edges.......and, no, theyre not sharp like a knife, but they are definitely pointy. and surprisingly well-kept......hes never seen benrey brush his teeth before but clearly he must. theyre so smooth and slick under his fingertips

and then he flushes and drops his hand b/c hes getting some weird fucking thoughts right now........but looking back up at himself in the mirror and seeing benreys face all wide-eyed and red makes the issue worse

oh, you really like seeing him look like that, dont you. and gordons pissed b/c this isnt even his fucking brain but its still whispering the exact same neurotic, self-defeating shit at him that hes trying very hard to tamp down

and then he starts getting a little crazier. taking off the vest. he can explain that, no problem. its just kind of hot. heavy. he needed a breather! its normal. just in here to splash some water on his face and cool down, nothing wrong with that. but that just makes benreys shirt all the easier to access.......and he tugs the hem of it just a little higher and looks at himself in the mirror and runs a thumb over the curve of his stomach, where the hair is thickest, and he shivers

gordon freeman is deeply normal and would never get off to the sight of a guy with arms the size of his head tentatively dragging the hem of his shirt up, just for gordon to look at him closer

hands shaking from nerves as he decides to loosen his tie and start unbuttoning and he sees more and more hair-dusted skin and muscle and fat and a thin sheen of sweat reveal itself

> i could see gordon trying to tense and flex the muscles a bit just because hes normal

HE IS, AND HE WOULD

he doesnt know when "being horny b/c hes been pent up and edged for days and he just needs to get his rocks off real quick so he can be normal again" turned into "being horny b/c the way benrey looks under his uniform is scary good to him" but if he thinks about that too hard hes gonna have a panic attack

tells himself that its all just because he hasnt been able to get off. thats why hes thinking this shit. hell stop thinking it once he nuts

> hey this is a quick aside but yknwo how he talks to himself in third person sometimes? what if he does and then kinda does a mental double take at how his name sounds coming out of benreys mouth, with his voice. ok thats it goodbye

oh ym god thats making me go insane. doing it by accident and then.........saying it again. on purpose. just to hear benreys voice doing it

getting one knee hitched up onto the sink and leaning forward with his arm braced against the mirror and his forehead leaning on his arm and tugging benreys dick (no, idiot, thats your dick right now, stop thinking about it) and tentatively groaning out his own name and it comes out so hoarse and desperate that it punches him straight in the gut (too bad, hes thinking about it, he cant not think about it, not with the way he looks and sounds right now)

> remember in the series when benrey called him gordon one (1) time and he noticed immediately and was like..i think thats the first time youve called me by my name.

he looks so fucked out and slutty in that mirror that it almost makes him pass out

eyes darting like hes trying to commit every single detail of how he looks right now to memory (b/c he is. he fucking is. he wants to make benrey look like this so fucking bad. just for him. wreck him and get him flushed and sweaty and panting and moaning gordons name and jesus christ, okay, thats where his brains taking him. okay. cool)

hes dizzying himself thinking about it. he knows benreys hot for him by this point, theoretically. assuming his weird come-ons werent just jokes. benrey would probably let him do this to him. benrey would probably want him to touch his dick. gordon thinks about how good it might feel for his own hand to be on benreys dick and he cant get himself solidly into one headspace or another - hes gordon, hes benrey, he wants to touch, he wants to be touched, he wants to feel his own hand on this dick (and god, maybe he could. maybe he could ask. wouldnt that be crazy.)

benrey in gordons suit and gordons body and gordons face leaning over him, b/c fuck, he really is tall compared to benrey, hes figured that one out awful quick. and gordons (his) hand on his (benreys) dick and stroking him and leering down at him with those dark, dark eyes that dont even really look like his eyes, anymore, not with the way theyre shaded over, and hearing his (benreys) (his) voice moaning out his (gordons) (definitely gordons) name and all the little "pleases" and "thank yous" that he cant stop letting out b/c benreys voice was made for it, made to beg and whine and ask so nicely, and his heads spinning as he comes all over the fucking mirror and sink

> i wonder if this could be combine with the ideas that parts of the self or like mind is still a bit left behind if that makes sense, like with benrey also wanting this that part of the reason gordon wants to say those things

"do you want to fuck him or do you want to be him?" well my good bitch, perhaps you can have a little of both. welcome to my personal hell

hes never come so hard in his fucking life and the noise that rips out of him when he does, finally, after days of being jerked around (ha ha) makes his ears burn with shame

now if you really wanna go crazy. imagine that benreys up and walking around this whole time b/c being edged by his stupid broken suit is making it impossible for him to sleep, and he hears........all of this. stops and presses himself flat agains tthe wall to listen

he cant actually get into the bathroom to scare the shit out of gordon/offer to join in/etc, b/c this stupid flesh body of gordons cant even noclip, but he can press his ear to the door and. listen. and he can flush all the way down to his chest when he hears gordon in there, moaning out his own name with benreys voice

so thats what gordon wants him to do, huh. thats what hes thinking about.

poor benrey, tho. he gets to experience just a lick of the endless fucking suffering that gordon goes thru every single day just by being alive, and "the HEV suit trying and failing to suck him off to completion while his dick twitches against the hard metal of the interior every time gordon groans in there" is just one small part of it

anyway . see ya. my final message

[machinegunkellyimagines]

Title: My Brother’s Bandmate

Summary: Mötley Crüe meets Micks little sister.

Pairing: Tommy x Reader

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

You couldn’t believe this.

It was your brother’s first gig with his new band and you missed it. It was as if the universe was determined to make you miss the show.

First you had to stay late at the diner because your release was stuck in traffic, then when you finally got in the taxi (that you ended up changing your clothes in) you were in traffic.

By the time you reached the Whiskey the crowd had already mostly died out, only leaving a few drunks at the bar and some girls who were either waiting for taxis or trying to find guys to go home with.

You headed to the back to look for your big brother to apologize since you knew he must have been bummed that you missed his show.

The only issue was you’d never been to this bar and had no clue where the back room was.

So you checked each door that wasn’t locked, then you opened a door and it was obviously a restroom with a single toilet and sink.

And it wasn’t empty.

There was a tall man with dark hair at the sink and he appeared to be washing his face, but he paused when he noticed her.

‘Seriously? Another one?’ he scoffed as he turned to face you.

‘Oh sorry.’ you said.

‘It’s fine I got one more good go left in me I think.’

‘Excuse me?’ You asked in confusion as the strange man approached you.

Before you knew what was going on the man lifted you up and placed you on the sink.

‘H-hey! What the hell?!’ you gasped in shock.

The man didn’t reply he just pulled a condom out of his pocket and ripped it open with his teeth.

Oh hell no!

You brought up your knee as hard as you could, making full contact with his gut.

He grunted and doubled over and you took the opportunity to push him back enough for you jump off the sink and run out the restroom.

‘Mick! Mick!’ you yelled as you ran down the long hallway, desperately looking for your brother.

Finally the last door at the end opened up and your brother stuck his head out.

‘(Y/N)?’ Mick asked as he saw you running toward him with a frantic look of panic in your eyes.

You ran up to him and clutched onto his leather jacket.

‘Th-this guy in the restroom h-he tried to-‘

Mick cut you off by smashing a bottle of vodka you hadn’t noticed him holding against the wall.

‘Where is he?’ your brother asked.

‘I left him in the restroom.’ you answered.

Without a word he pushed past you and headed to the restroom you had just ran from, you followed behind if only to make sure he didn’t hurt himself trying to kill that pervert.

When Mick walked in he paused at the door for a second when he saw the attacker on the ground holding his stomach in pain.

‘You bastard!’ Mick snarled before he grabbed the guy by his shirt and held the broken bottle against his neck.

‘I’m gonna fucking kill you!’

‘Mick! What the hell!?’

You turn and see two guys had apparently ran up behind you. One was a blond and the other was really tall with black hair.

The tall one pushed past you and pulled Mick back.

‘What the fuck is going on?!’ the blond asked.

‘This asshole tried to rape my fucking sister!!’ Mick screamed as he fought against the guy that was holding him back.

‘What?! Nikki that is not cool!’ the tall man said as he struggled to keep his hold on your brother.

‘I didn’t! I thought she was another groupie looking to fuck one of us! I didn’t know she was your sister!’ The guy yelled as he got up, still holding his stomach.

‘Do you two know each other Mick?’ you asked.

‘Yeah I used to be in a band with this fuck, but that’s dead. Come on let’s go.’ Mick said before he snatched out of the tall man’s hold.

‘What?! Mick you can’t just quit!’ the tall guy said.

‘Watch me.’

Mick then took your arm and pulled you out the restroom and down the hall, the whole time he was mumbling something about being done with rug monkeys.

‘Mick you’re gonna break my arm.’ you whined as your shoulder began to ache from how hard he was pulling you.

Your complaint made him stop and take a deep breath before he turned and faced you.

‘Are you Ok? Did that asshole hurt you?’ he asked.

‘No, I’m fine...are you really quitting this band?’ you asked.

‘Of course I’m quitting! (Y/N) he almost-’

‘I know but it really seemed like a big misunderstanding, Mick come on you told me you actually like these guys.’

‘That was before that damn bassist tried to fuck my baby sister in a dirty bathroom.’

‘Mick!’

The siblings turn and see the two guys from the hall were dragging the man who had attacked you in the restroom. Nikki you recalled.

‘Just beat the shit outta Nikki and let’s move past this man, we aren’t gonna find another guitarist as good as you and you won’t find another band that works better for you than us.’ the blond said.

‘Or you could just not beat the shit out of me and accept my apology. Man I read the situation completely wrong and jumped the gun, but dude come on don’t let this one dumb thing mess up the future of this band.’

‘Yeah Mick, you said it yourself you think this could be the one that makes it. I’m fine, honestly I am, don’t quit because of me.’ you tried to reason.

For a moment Mick looked like he was contemplating leaving and ignoring everyone but then he looked down at you and you gave him your biggest puppy eyes, the ones that he ALWAYS fell for.

He let out a loud sigh, and rolled his eyes before he grabbed a handful of Nikki’s hair and violently dragged his head down so that he could knee the bassist in the face.

‘Don’t ever pull that shit again Sixx.’ he said before he turned and walked off.

There was a moment of silence as Nikki held onto his now bleeding nose.

‘Well...um its nice to meet you all. I’m (Y/N) Mars, Mick’s little sister.’ you awkwardly introduced yourself.

‘Cool, I’m Tommy, the drummer, this guy is our singer Vince and you’ve met our bassists Nikki.’ the tall one introduced.

‘Yeah...I’m sorry for th-’

‘No. I shouldn’t have assumed, or at least asked before I started.’

‘Yeah.’ you agreed.

You all turned and saw Mick coming back, still looking angry like always but not as violent.

‘Are you assholes coming or not? You invited the entire club to that shitty apartment.’

‘Oh yeah, are we riding with you or-’

‘No. Only got room for one and I don’t want my infant sister walking the streets with the likes of you guys.’

‘I’m not an infant!’ you stomped.

‘Still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want you hanging with these guys.’

‘You hang out with these guys.’ you argued.

‘I’m not you (Y/N), I’m older, so get in the car so I can take you home.’ he said sternly.

‘I don’t want to go home yet, plus you said there was a party going on. I wanna go to at least that since I missed the show, I’m already dressed and tomorrow is my off day.’

‘Come on dude least we can do is show her a good time after the shit Sixx pulled.’ Tommy said.

Again your brother rolled his eyes before leaving, this time pulling you with him.

‘I’ll see you all at the party!’ you said as you were dragged away.

In the car Mick gave you his usual list of rules for parties; pour your own drinks, don’t sit your cup down, knock before you open any doors and don’t go off without telling him.

‘Sorry for missing the show.’ you said.

‘I’m sorry my bandmate is a fucking narcissistic idiot, I’ll talk to him.’

‘Actually talk Mick, not just beat him while you yell at him.’ you glared.

‘...fine.’ he agreed hesitantly.

Once you arrived your brother helped you up a flight of stairs and through a window. The party was already full swing, smoke clouding the air, the stench of booze, and the amount of people made it hot like a sauna.

‘I hate parties.’

‘I know Mick.’ you smiled.

‘I’ll be in the last room on the left.’ he said before walking off, leaving you to go and find a drink.

As he walked toward his hiding room he saw Nikki and the rest of his band sitting at the table snorting their lives away.

He sat down and the others all got quiet as they looked at him, Nikki moved his chair back a bit in case the old man was still feeling violent. The bassists had just got his nose to stop bleeding and was not in the mood to get it going again.

‘Listen up. I am only going to say this one time, my sister is off fucking limits. No one lays a hand on her, no one flirts with her...if I catch one of you so much as looking at her in a way I don’t like I will castrate you. Are we clear?’

‘Crystal.’ Tommy said, Nikki and Vince nodded in agreement.

Mick stood up and off he went, taking the tense atmosphere with him.

They all let out a sigh of relief as they went back to snorting up their drugs.

‘Dude, that dude is intense.’ Tommy said.

‘Yeah, but he is the best guitarist I’ve ever seen, we ain’t going nowhere without him’ Nikki sighed, moving his chair close to the table again.

‘I can’t believe that someone birthed Mick and then decided to risk it and do the shit again after that.’

‘I can’t believe his sister is actually kinda hot.’ Tommy smiled.

Nikki hit Tommy upside the head, making him whine.

‘Do you want Mick to kill you?’ he scolded.

‘Sorry, but she is. You were gonna fuck her.’ the drummer said.

‘I thought she was a groupie like the other three chicks that had ran up on me. Hell I almost didn’t want to but I figured I had one more good round left.’ Nikki said in his own defense.

‘Dumb ass, she looks nothing like a groupie, I mean she doesn’t look like she is even supposed to be here.’

They look over and see you talking with some girl, the girl was in shorts, a ripped up t-shirt, black hooker heels and some edgy jewelry. You however were in a white crop top and a pink high waist skirt on with white flats.

‘Looks like she just snuck out to go on a date with a boy she met at church.’ Vince joked.

‘Yeah, but don’t you think she has that like cute innocent look? Girl next door kind of thing?’ Tommy said.

‘More like the sister of an angry old man who plays guitar in your band kind of thing. Remember the rules T-bone, no shitting in your own yard.’ Nikki said.

‘Ok but while he isn’t here I’m gonna go talk to her.’ Tommy said as he stood up and left the table.

‘Tommy!’ Nikki hissed but it was too late, the drummer was already in front of the two girls and chatting them up.

‘What the hell is wrong with him?’ Vince asked.

‘He’s an idiot.’ was the bassist’s answer.

They watched as you looked at Tommy, your eyes darting around the room in worry. No doubt looking around to make sure your brother wasn’t around to see this.

Tommy was either ignorant or just stupidly bold because he simply waved his hand, dismissing your worries before he pulled you over to the table and pulled out a chair for.

You looked nervous and borderline uncomfortable as you sat down and let Tommy push the chair closer to the table.

‘Mick said he doesn’t want you guys talking to me, and I doubt even I can talk him down twice in one night.’ you said, voicing your concern.

‘Don’t worry about him, for now we want to know about you. Mick didn’t tell us he had any siblings at all. Other than his name and favorite booze we don’t know a thing about him.’ Tommy started.

At that you chuckled before taking a sip of your beer.

‘We have...seven siblings. Mick doesn’t really like the rest too much and he tries his best to keep me away from the guys he hangs out with so I’m not surprised he didn’t tell you guys about me.’

‘Are you like....adopted tho? Not to be rude or any shit like that but you two look nothing alike.’ Nikki asked.

‘Well Mick looked identical to his dad before he dyed his hair, Mom says I look like my father. Not that I’d ever know for sure.’ you sighed.

‘Oh different fathers. So which one one of you is legit, who is the love baby?’ Vince asked.

‘Well Mick’s dad was who mom stayed married to, so I guess I’m the “love baby” but...some shit happened before I was born and by the time mom brought me home Mick was already treated like an outsider. I latched onto him and held onto me and we’ve never been apart since...he was the father to me that his father couldn’t bare to be.’

They all listened closely, maybe it was their brains fighting against the drugs by focusing on something, or they were genuinely interested in learning about their closed off guitarist.

‘What was Mick like growing up?’ Tommy asked.

You let out a laugh as you remembered how your brother was.

‘He was...energetic believe it or not, especially when it came to music, and I thought he was the coolest person in the world. You know Mick never took a single guitar lesson, he’s almost completely self taught, he would mess with the strings until it made a noise he liked.’

‘Wow...the man is a genius.’ Nikki said in awe.

‘You already thought that Nikki.’ Vince said.

For a while the conversation went on like that, them pretty much interviewing you about your brother, squeezing you for info while you sipped on your drink.

‘So he’s just like super protective then since he raised you.’

‘Yup, I remember this time when I was in like second grade this boy pulled down my skirt in front of everyone in recess and I was...crushed.’ you laughed.

‘What type of jerk does that?’ Tommy scoffed.

Nikki and Vince looked away and sipped their drinks, because they stayed doing shit like that when they were little hell spawns.

‘So Mick snuck into our recess and without a word he wrestled the poor boy’s clothes off, leaving him butt ass naked and crying. Mick got in so much trouble and no boy looked at me funny ever again.’

‘Wow so you must be like a virgin.’ Vince said.

At that you blushed before you scoffed and walked away in an absolute huff, who the hell was he to make (true) assumptions about you. Your non-existent love life was always something you were self conscious about, you were in your twenties and hadn’t had so much as a first kiss.

Mick never let you have a moment where you could be alone with a boy, and your family thought it was hilarious and would egg him on and volunteer to keep an eye on you whenever he wasn’t around.

Of course you knew he had good intentions and you never had it in you to tell him to back off and let you get some damn play.

Right about now you were thinking you would just find Mick and tell him you were ready to go, but before you had even reached the hallway someone had grabbed your hand and stopped you.

‘Hey! Sorry about him, he gets high and starts to talk out of his ass. We were really having a good time talking to you (Y/N)’ Tommy said.

‘I’m sorry for storming off, but I really think I should call it a night before Mick comes out and sees me talking to you guys.’ you said politely.

‘Alright but we still totally want to see you some more y’know, we have another gig at the Whiskey on Friday. It would be cool if you showed and saw us perform then after we could get some drinks, Mick will be there and everything.’ the tall drummer said pleadingly.

You were really going to decline, but Tommy had obviously mastered the art of puppy eyes as well as you had, and you did miss their first show.

‘...fine.’ you mumbled.

Tommy’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and he jumped around and hugged you like an excited little kid.

‘Awesome! You are gonna freak when you see the show, this band is gonna own the strip in no time!’ he said, not letting go of you.

You didn’t know what to do in this situation, the only guy who ever really touched you for more than a second was Mick.

Tommy finally let go and smiled down at you.

You looked up at him and your heart jumped as you took in all his handsome features, his eyes, his sharp nose, and those lips. When you looked back up you noticed his eyes were on your lips as well.

‘(Y/N)!’

You nearly jumped out of your skin as your brother’s voice hit your ears.

As fast as you could you backed away from Tommy and out the corner of your eye in the midst of your own panic you saw the drummer hurrying back to his table with the others to play as if he had been there the whole time.

You look back and see your brother looking very annoyed as he came out of one of the rooms.

‘Hey! I was just gonna come and find you, I’m ready to go.’ you said as coolly as you could.

‘Good, some chick just tried to pull my damn dick out and I honestly just can not deal with shit...I’m too fucking old.’ he grumbled before pulling toward the window you had crawled through.

You looked over at Tommy one more time before you left, and he was looking at you.

Whatever that was just now could not ever happen again...but you wished it had gone on a little longer

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Fifty-Nine

Words: 4.4K

Warning(s): Explicit language, minor sexual situations, mentions of drug abuse

Tag List: @unknownoblivion  @sinningsixx  @edwardtriggerhandzz  @lemmyjelly  @haileynicoleseavey17  @cierrasixx19  @oskea93  @mgkobsessed  @vamprlestat  @sharon6713  @itsametaphorbriansblog  @miriampraez  @allie-mcginn @xpoisonousrosesx  @rebeccaphillips14  @nicholeh7  @fandomshit6000  @lilmou5ie  @tamedhearts  @divaanya  @kingbouji3 @evrsncnewyork @6ixx6ixx  @ratedrkohardychick91  @floregrohlssard  @oldschoolimagineblog  @thanks2pete  @abaldboi  @swoopygorl @justjodeye @liith-ium  @caos18blog  @ytwahsog  @shamlessobsession  @scarecrowmax  @toadspleen @random-internet-user-4471  @solohqrry  @loveofmyloif  @sparxx27  @kaitieskidmore1  @cruecifymesixx  @ijustwanttokiss70srogertaylor  @emmaelizabeth2014 @meetthesixxter  @sixxsixxsexx @sublimeprincesswasteland @arianareirg  @girlnight-terror  @mcnibberachi

@fancywasmyname1  @teller258316  @ggorehorror  @blowinmeupwithherlove  @xrosegoldwolfx  @mylifeisjustafeverdream  @redlipscrystalskies14 @str4nge-haze

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

Sharise and I watch as Adriana demonstrates basic pole dancing techniques in the empty strip joint.

Sharise, me, Duff, Steven and Steven's lady friend/dancer, Adriana, all came into Adriana's place of work during closed hours, with the permission of her boss, being that this is the club the "Girls Girls, Girls" video is being filmed in and I decided I'd join Sharise in it.

Of course Sharise and I aren't gonna be doing Cirque du Soleil on a pole in the video, it's just an excuse to get out of the house and good off for a few hours.

"Okay, going upside down." She states. "Stand to whatever side of the pole is most comfortable, and whatever side you stand on, place the opposite foot close to the base of the pole." she tells us. "So, I'm standing to the left of the pole, so my right foot is gonna be near the base of the pole, and my right hand is gonna hold the pole at shoulder height, and you'll want to hold the pole close to you so it's a tighter spin."

"Ooo." Steven comments to add interest, sipping his beer.

"Now, your other hand, will hold the pole higher up, like this." Her left hand holds the pole higher up. "Then you kick the leg that's furthest from the pole, up." Her left leg kicks up. "While acting like you're trying to pull the pole downward." She's upside down in half a second. "Then the leg you kicked up wraps around the front of the pole, and the leg you kept closest to the pole, goes behind. And when you slide down," she slowly starts making her way to the floor, "keep your chin tucked so you don't fall and break your neck." She reaches the floor and is smoothly laid onto her back before she stands up.

"Okay, Viv, you try." Steven nudges at me.

"Yeah, Viv." Sharise echos, smiling at me.

"Oh, dear." I mumble, getting up from my chair, Duff, Steven and Sharise clapping as I get up on stage, standing to the left of the pole.

"Okay, so, right foot." I put it at the base of the pole. "Left foot here, right hand here, left hand here..." I say to myself.

"Now, kick." She tells me and I do so.

Obviously I'm not as graceful, looking like an upside down koala clinging to a tree for dear life, my eyes squeezed closed, a sound between a laugh and a shriek coming out of me.

"Be sexy, Viv." Stevie suggests.

I open my eyes, seeing his right side up figure sitting at the table with Duff and Sharise.

"I don't think I can get down." I admit, my legs keeping on the pole but curling closer and closer into me as my fear of falling on my head grows.

Duff and Steven sarcastically cheer, and I feel the sprinkling of cash fall over me before turning my head to glare at them.

"Here." Adriana helps me down, chuckling at them poking fun at me while Sharise thinks it's pretty funny, too.

"Nice job, babe." Stevie states sarcastically and I raise a brow.

"You get up here and do it, then." I reply and he scoffs.

"Oh, I will." He stands up, sashaying to the stage seductively and I hold back my laughter as Adriana raises her brows. "Okay, get down, lemme have my moment to shine." He nudges Adriana and I off stage and we go to sit at the table with Sharise and Duff.

Steven, the natural performer and entertainer he is, starts completely winging it--giving us a hot but very questionable strip tease.

I wrinkle my nose when he gets his shirt off and starts coming down from the stage, walking towards me.

His incredibly hairy chest grows closer and closer and I already know his motivations before he can get to me.

I try to get out of dodge, but Duff is a traitor and holds at my wrist so I can't get away.

I feel Steven's arms wrap around me, his itchy fur against my back and I squeal as Duff, Sharise and Adriana continue to laugh their asses off.

Nikki could barely get the hair on his chest to grow, and when it finally did, he was proud. I had never seen that much hair until I saw Steven with his shirt off.

He had enough hair on his chest and his stomach to make sweaters...when he was naked (which I discovered tended to happen when he got very drunk) I never looked long enough to try to find his prick in the thick of his pubes.

He's just a hairy, hairy, man.

I'm finally calming down and elbowing Steven, gently, getting him off of me in time to look at him, seeing Nikki leaning against the bar in the corner, looking oh so unamused.

"H-Hey." I say to him, really pushing Stevie away.

I don't want him to face Nikki's wrath incase Sikki decides to make an appearance and say something smart about us having fun together without his supervision.

He had gotten upset with me over staying the night with Duff, and I had finally shut him up with:

"You're angry because you know how you treat me, and you know the day I decide I'm done with your bullshit I can walk away from you and have every reason to do so! And I'll be even more inclined to walk away if there's someone that treats me better, and there is! You know there is and you can't stand the thought of it but you don't want to change, either, so I don't know what to tell you other than I'm here with you and I'm not going anywhere. But I'm getting tired, Nikki. Okay? I'm getting tired."

He didn't have a word to say to that. He just stormed out and slammed the door, and found Vanity.

"Hi!" Vanity's soft but perky voice echoes and I notice she's behind the bar, stealing liquor to hand Nikki a bottle of Jack.

Duff and Steven exchange looks before Steven's letting out a "hi!" in his own enthusiastic way.

She's sliding back across the bar to step to us, hugging me tightly to her.

"How are you?" I ask her, Nikki walking over to us.

"Fine, until Nikki started in on me f--"

"So, what're you guys doing tonight?" Nikki interrupts her and she rolls her eyes.

"Baby, I'm talking." She whines.

"Baby?" I ask and I swear I hear Duff nearly choke on his beer.

"Yeah, 'baby'. Ya know...just a cute little pet name I give some of my friends." She explains.

"Well, can you not call him that?" I ask her politely.

Her brows arch and her smile twitches.

"Sure." She finally lets out and everyone seems to let out a breath of relief, probably imagining the two of us getting into a spat over something so stupid.

"Duff, Steven, I was thinking we meet up with T-Bone tonight. Heather's outta town and he wanted to invite you guys and Slash over." He explains.

"Cool." Steven shrugs, but Duff hesitantly looks at me.

Nikki follows his line of sight and cuts his eyes for a moment.

"The fuck you looking at her for? Do you need her permission or something?" He suddenly snaps and Duff looks at him.

"I can't tonight, man. Thanks though." Duff replies coolly, finishing his beer, standing up.

"Girls, I was actually thinking of a girls night." Vanity tells Sharise and I, pulling our attention away from Nikki scowling at Duff as the tall blonde mumbles walks away, mumbling about going to the restroom.

Me and Sharise exchange looks before we're cautiously testing the waters.

"I can't. I'm gonna be with Sky." Sharise puts in.

"Oh, well, us then." Vanity beams at me.

"Actually, now that I think about it, I think you two can come with Steven and Slash and me to Tommy's." Nikki suggests.

Oh, he was saving his ass. He always played it off, but I now know anytime Vanity and I were together without him their to moderate what was being said on her part, he was a nervous wreck, always waiting for Vanity to mess up in a drunken rant or cracked out haze and let it slip she and Nikki were an item.

I still think back on how absolutely stupid I was.

All the signs, red flags, warnings, everything, were right in my face.

The biggest one being...

"When did you get that?" I ask Nikki as we head to his bike to go to the Seventh Veil.

It's a Roman numeral "V", and I keep trying to figure out what significance the number "5" has to him.

"While I was out last night." He replies.

"I leave you, Tommy, Slash and Stevie and Vanity alone and you get a tattoo?" I ask with a chuckle.

I didn't go to Tommy's last night because I was too tired to go party it up with him. We got home last night before Nikki went to his house and I climbed in bed and passed out.

"Yeah. Are you surprised though?" He asks me and I look at him and grin, shaking my head a little bit.

"Nope." I reply.

Once we get to the club, we're met by a plethora of girls, and Vince and Tommy looking like they're in absolute heaven.

I actually take the time to introduce myself to the girls, learning their names and trying to get along with them.

That's pretty easy to do because even though they look intimidating, they're nice.

Would I trust them alone in a room with my husband? No.

Are they sweet girls, though? Yes.

Wayne gives us an hour to get ready, even though they're basically already ready, and change into what we're going to wear in the video.

Ross wants to take promotional shots of the guys with the group of pretty women before it gets dark out.

So, while Sharise and I get ready, the band and the dancers are hitting the street to take pictures.

My favorite of those photos has to be of Nikki surrounded by them all hugged up and close to him and he's just eating up the attention. Of course he had to put on for the camera, but maybe if I would have gone, I would have been able to see exactly how comfortable he was touching on other women.

I finish my makeup as Sharise starts changing into her lingerie and I follow suit, raising a brow at the set she picked bought for me.

"Isn't that cute?" She asks me, nodding to the articles in my hands and I look at her.

"It's uh...revealing."

"As lingerie typically is, Viv." She replies with a small chuckle.

"Yeah, but...?" I hold up the thong for emphasis.

"What about it?"

"My ass is gonna be out. And one wrong move and my pussy is gonna be out there with it." I state.

"No, it won't, you don't have anything to worry about."

I let out a breath, hesitating to put it on and she frowns at me a little bit.

"Vivian, are you alright?"

"Yeah." I state.

"Are you gonna finish getting ready before the guys get back?"

I just nervously glance at her.

"Okay." She says, finishing putting her heels on. "What's up with you, huh?"

"I don't know if I want to do this." I admit.

"Why not?" She asks me and I raise a brow.

"I'm just--I don't know. I'm just not..." I motion my hands around my body and she looks confused before it clicks and she's suddenly looking like she doesn't believe me.

"Tell me it isn't because you don't think you look good?"

I don't answer and she let's out a breath, smiling at me.

"Vivian, you are a gorgeous girl. There's no need to think you aren't. I promise." She assures me and I inhale and exhale before nodding. "Good. Now get changed and c'mon so we can get this over with and the guys can stop badgering us about it, alright?"

"Alright." I smile, taking my clothes off to slip into the brand new lingerie.

I was weirding myself out because I had never had confidence issues, but something about 1987 just made everything plummet.

The only brightside was that I was beginning to be weaned off my antidepressant.

I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but I found out in 1988 that it wasn't necessarily good.

Being surrounded by all those women, very pretty, very fit, very sexy women, just made me feel like a fish out of water.

I guess when you're raised to believe showing the bottom of your thigh is a sin, you can feel like you're in a completely different universe that you don't belong in when you're faced with the responsibility of prancing around in your underwear for men, and the world, to see.

I was always happy when I felt like Nikki was proud to have me as a wife, but he just wanted me in that video to show off what he got to bed down anytime he wanted it.

"Girls, we're starting in five!" Wayne yells on the other side of the dressing room door as Tommy and Nikki step in, grinning at all the half naked, gorgeous women in here.

I straighten my crucifix, before my eyes hone in on the faint scar on my thigh that's just a little visible through the stockings, and doubt sprigs in my mind that other people might be able to see it.

I fucking hate the damn thing and it's quickly becoming the current bane of my existence.

"Girls, c'mon." Tommy playfully puts in, grinning, motioning them to the door.

They giggle softly, smiling at him as they step to the door, Tommy playfully patting all of them on the ass as they walk by, causing me to roll my eyes when it's my turn.

He just smiles down at me, folding his hands behind his back, innocently.

"We'll be there in a second." Nikki tells him.

"K." Tommy replies, tucking a dancer under his arm, shutting the door behind him.

I turn away from Nikki, facing the mirrors, pretending to make any last adjustments to my hair and makeup as he leans against the closed door.

He looks gone as shit, but when doesn't he, anymore?

After what seems like hours, he's stepping towards me, his hand reaching around my front, tugging the tie of my short, silk robe, his fingertips brushing up my stomach as he watches me in the mirror.

He pushes the robe off my shoulder, exposing my bare skin, pulling my curled hair to my other shoulder before pressing hot kisses to the previously revealed one, leaning his weight against my back, pulling my ass against his groin, causing me to let out a sigh and allowing myself a few seconds of bliss before remembering he's been mean the past few days...and said some fucked up shit when I told him where I had stayed that night he ditched me in town.

"Nikki," I start, his tongue and teeth traveling to my neck while his other hand slides down my highcut, dark-green, sequined, thong and finely meshed fishnet stockings. "Nikki, stop." I let out and he huffs out a breath, getting off of me, rolling his eyes.

"The fuck is wrong, now, Viv?"

"Okay, you can't just scream shit to me like you did earlier and then pretend everything is fine without addressing it."

"I can't even remember what the fuck I say to you half the time so I'm sorry if you're ridiculously needy and constantly need to be reassured we're 'okay' after every fucking disagreement. We're okay. Does that make you feel better?"

"No, because it's bullshit. We're not."

I notice him staring at my body, readjusting himself. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course."

"Then what did I say?"

"...Okay, I was more focused on your body language..." He says. "...which was telling me you're pissed off over absolutely nothing." He smirks and I cut my eyes at him. "Okay, okay, truce: I'll apologize for whatever you think I did wrong, if you just give me two minutes."

"Two minutes to what?" I furrow my brows.

He grins like the Cheshire Cat.

A minute later I'm gasping for breath, arching my back as Nikki flicks his tongue between my legs, my thong and stockings on the floor as my legs rest over his shoulders.

"Sixx and Sixx and a half, you ready?!" Wayne calls, knocking on the door.

"Almost, man, I'm finishing up on my dinner!" Nikki replies, winking at me.

"What does that have to do with Viv?!"

A loud moan falls from my lips when he suddenly shoves two fingers into me, and my face heats up at the sound of Wayne groaning in disgust and frustration because we're running behind.

"Just hurry the fuck up!" He orders, walking away.

Nikki goes back to what he was doing before we were interrupted, and I'm coming within a few more seconds.

Once I get as cleaned up as I can get, I'm pulling my stockings and panties back on before dropping my robe.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Nikki stops me before I can walk out. "That's what you're wearing out there?"

"Yeah? You saw it a second ago, didn't you?"

"The robe was kinda covering this up." He motions to my matching dark green, sequined bra that goes with my bottoms, my boobs nearly spilling out of it because it's designed to push them up.

"Okay, and?"

He turns me around, a weird look on his face as he looks over me.

"I don't like it." He finally says.

My confidence plummets and I look down at myself and up at him again.

"W-What? What do you mean?" I self-consciously try to cover myself up with my arms.

"It's just...slutty." He shrugs.

"Nikki, you don't mind when I dress up like this at home."

"That's different. That's for me."

I realize I look perfectly fine, he's just pissy I'm gonna be in the video that he begged me for weeks to be in, but I'm actually dressing the part instead of trying to keep it as modest as I can.

My self-consciousness evaporates and I raise a brow.

"It's called being more fun." I say, echoing what he told me the other night. "You wanted me in the video, Nikki, and now I'm in it. If you don't appreciate that, there are plenty of people out there that are going to." I slip my heels back on and he rolls his jaw. "C'mon, before Wayne kills us." I kiss his cheek and slip out the door, hearing a loud crash behind me due to Sikki throwing a few things around in the room out of anger.

He just thought he wanted to show me off, apparently once he realized the consequences of his actions of pressuring me for weeks to do the video, he despised the idea.

And Wayne, being completely all-in, just kept adding fuel to that fire.

"Alright, I need shots of you," Wayne tells Natalie, a blonde with the long hair pulled back into a ponytail, "you," he points to Pam, another blonde, but she has huge, fake boobs, that are barely being contained in her white bikini, "annnnd," he takes a moment, pressing his lips together as he examines the group of us, "Vivian. You're up to bat."

"I'm what?" I ask.

"She's what?" Nikki echoes me.

"Um, I thought I was just gonna be in the background." I add.

"Nikki said he wanted you front and center in some of the frames."

"I did?" Nikki snaps.

"You sure did." Wayne brushes him off, nodding at me. "Viv, c'mon, stage, center pole, now."

Vince is so obnoxiously pleased with this turn of events.

"I can't pole dance." I state to Wayne.

"Thought you used to dance?"

"Ballet. Not stripping." I reply.

"Oh." He furrows his brows before shrugging. "Well, just give a pole spin or something simple that I can catch in a handful of fps."

The look of utter anger on my husband's face from where he, Tommy, Vince and Mick were sitting in front of the stage, when I rested my back against the pole, facing them, and slid down in to a split...he probably wanted to murder me and Wayne at that moment.

I got a sick sense of satisfaction from it.

Before Wayne can yell "cut", Nikki's hand wraps around my ankle, suddenly, and he's snatching me to him.

I try not to scream at the pain of my joints popping in my hip.

His grip is hard, biting into me, and his pinpointed eyes are mocking me, despite his smirk disguising his anger, but the camera is still rolling so I make myself smile and laugh it off as if he's joking incase Wayne decides to keep the footage in.

Nikki's also decently aware of this possibility and instead of screaming at me like I know he wants to do, he kisses me.

He did keep it in, and it honestly looks merely harmless in the video. It just looks like we're goofing off.

He hauls me off stage, throwing me over his shoulder, his hand coming down on my ass one good time, sending a stinging heat throughout me that I actually yelp out "OW" in response to.

Once he sets me down, his hand is gently rubbing over my aching hip and I wince.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to do that." He admits in my ear.

I don't acknowledge it, hearing Wayne give orders to Natalie and Pam.

Once they're done with specific shots, he's replaying the "Girls, Girls, Girls" and telling the guys to "just go for it" so he can get the candid shots he wants.

Shots that include Vince offering Sharise money he's holding between his teeth as she gets handsy with him, grinning widely at him, looking absolutely perfect as she always manages to do so effortlessly. Another one includes him scooping her up in his arms, about to carry her out with her laughing.

A shot that I know won't make the censored version of the video is Nikki using his arm to clear off a table with a few business men at it, tossing me onto it with little warning, before biting between my legs, causing me to get red with embarrassment as he gives a second nip to my thigh, my stomach my chest and finally, my smile-adorned lips.

As the night goes on, Wayne captures everything he needs, including moving all of us girls back into the dressing room with Nikki and Tommy "helping" us get ready for the stage while Mick plays his guitar in one of the chairs in front of the vanity with girls touching up their makeup and outfits all around him.

Once Wayne's finished inside, he and the guys head outside to film them riding their motorcycles down the street and catcalling pretty girls. Sharise and I don't necessarily want to see that, so we hang back at the Seventh Veil and get changed.

"I think we all did good." Natalie pipes, grinning.

"Me too." Missy, the shorthaired brunette, adds. "So..." she starts, glancing at me as I pull my jeans on. "...You and Nikki have been together for how long?"

"Umm, married almost four years, we've been together for six, though." I explain and she nods.

"I was just wondering. It's hard to tell with a lot of these rock guys, ya know? I mean, some of them think if they aren't with their wife or their girlfriend, they have permission to mess with other girls." She says. "Some guys are with their wives or girlfriends and still do that, though."

"I'd kill him." I scoff out.

"Oh, me too." Sharise echoes.

"So, like, how do you get them to stay faithful, then?" Natalie asks us smoothly, her shaped brows furrowing slightly.

It seems like such an easy answer, but the more I dwell on it, the harder it is to find words...or an explanation.

"Well, um," I start, letting out a breath. "You do the best you can do. And if that isn't good enough then that's basically saying you aren't good enough, and you don't wanna be with someone who thinks that way about you anyway."

"So if you found out he was cheating or has cheated, you'd leave? Just like that?" Missy asks next.

"I've never thought of it. I don't know what I'd do, really. Except cry."

"No, no, no." Pam states, pointing at me. "You key the bikes and bust all the windows and tires from the cars, you destroy the record collections, you vandalize the house, and you get the fuck outta dodge." She says. "At least that's what I'd do."

"And that's why you've never been married." Missy adds, the two of them chuckling.

"I'd stay." Natalie pipes and we all look at her. "What? I know my worth, but with that much money, your financial security is guaranteed."

"Until the band becomes washed up and can't make a buck off a show anymore, sweetie." Pam replies. "Never settle for someone because you feel financially secure. That's how all these people end up killing themselves. They're so miserable but surrounded by all the money in the world. Money doesn't mean happiness."

"No, but a designer handbag every week does." Natalie suggests.

"Ha ha." Pam sarcastically lets out, rolling her eyes. "What about you, Viv? Love or financial security?"

"I'd gladly go back to living in that shitty apartment he had when the guys were broke as hell, starting out, if it meant getting rid of all the complicated shit and just loving each other." I say truthfully.

No amount of money would have been able to make me cover my eyes and knowingly allow him to do what he had been doing to me.

But you would have thought that was the case considering how much he got away with right under my nose.

I just had so much faith in him, I believed in him more than I believed in God.

That was one mistake of many.

[thedarkknights]

⊰ H E L L B O U N D ⊱

❥ (A/N): Hey guys, I wanted to apologize for taking so long, it’s just that I tried my best to keep the jokers in character which is rather difficult and time-consuming given that Heath is an unpredictable little fuck while Joaquin’s Joker, which I will refer to as Arthur throughout the story, is still unfamiliar territory to me. Anyways, this chapter will give a backstory in regards to how the reader met the Jokers; that being said, there won’t be much interaction between the reader and the jokers since, y’know, they’re barely meeting. Also, this is the first fic I’ve ever written so please don’t flame me too hard, although I am more than happy to receive constructive criticism! In any case, I hope y’all enjoy it :D

❥ Pairing: Heath Ledger Joker x Reader x Joaquin Phoenix Joker

❥ Summary: Don’t walk by yourself at night; you never know who or what you might come across. 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀— ♡ —

Tonight was just like any other night — nothing out of the ordinary. Well, at least when it came to your daily “game plan,” which merely consisted of waking up, prepping for work, trying to maintain a straight appearance through your 12-hour shift, and coming home to attempt -and successfully fail- to get a decent amount of sleep. What kept gnawing your mind day and night, what kept you troubled throughout your workday and kept you up at night for continuous hours, was the constant reminder of how boring to life was. Devoid of any emotion that didn’t consist of the empty and dreary feeling of complete dissatisfaction. Every morning you’d wake up at 6:15, take 5 minutes to reflect if attending to your measly job as a waitress for Gotham’s oldest diner was worth it, and after accepting the fact that despite your job being utter shit you needed your weekly check to help pay for your rent and college tuition, you leave the warm comfort of your bed and head towards your closet to pick out your white long-sleeve shirt and black skirt of a uniform. Afterward, you make your way down to your restroom, and just before entering the shower; you take a good look at yourself in the mirror; you can’t help but notice how your dull eyes, once full of life and hope, reflect just how exhausted you are. The answer to your dilemma was simple, really, your life lacked inspiration. Excitement. Thrill. You didn’t have that little spark in you that everyone else seemed to have. After every completed day, when the sun would set, and darkness reigned the atmosphere, you reminded yourself that some desires are unattainable. Every night, rather than sleeping as an average person, would you’d lie awake, contemplating your day while staring at your ceiling. You fulfilled your daily requirements of serving ungrateful customers their once-canned meals because you needed to pay $442 per month for your college tuition alone; a degree in biological sciences? Yeah, right. Sure it’s what you aspired to receive, but you come home at 8 pm feeling wholly drained from energy, so you only study 4 hours, at best, per week. Life here in Gotham was fantastic, that is if you were Bruce Wayne. Maybe you should just marry Bruce Wayne and let him be your sugar daddy for the rest of your life. Sure. Besides, money can’t buy happiness. But it sure could buy you some more hours of sleep, right?

So here you are, walking towards Gotham’s subway to go to your apartment after a long day at work. Like a wish come true, the stairwell comes into view, just a block away. Just then, you distinctly heard what you made out to be a car burning rubber on these lonely streets, which was out-of-the-ordinary considering that Gotham wasn’t the criminal-infested, fast-paced and hectic place everyone claimed it to be. As you turn your head toward the source of the shrilling noise you saw what you considered to be a bomb get thrown out the front right window of a black vehicle which was now at least two blocks away; you couldn’t decipher what build or make the car was, but from the looks of it, it looked like a busted old-school Cadillac. While the classic car captivated your sights, the bomb detonated which scared the living shit out of you, to say the least; as if the reckless black Cady weren’t enough to alert you to get the fuck outta there and run towards safety, the massive explosion sure was. You start to run for the stairwell frantically, the harsh contact your black pumps makes with the concrete resonates within your eardrums; the staircase that ensured your safety was now just a crosswalk away. A step into the pitch-black street was all you were able to do before the black vehicle screeched to a stop at just an arm-length from you, blocking the entrance to your safe haven. 

The driver’s door was busted open as a tall man rapidly stepped out, and suddenly all attempts to escape from this gut-wrenching situation vanished; you stayed frozen in a mixture of awe and fear, gazing at the man like a deer caught in the headlights. The street lamp provided a streak of faint light, so you weren’t able to get a clear view of what the man was wearing other than a long, dark-purple trench coat, but that wasn’t what completely hypnotized you, no, it was his face. The stranger’s face was coated in poorly applied white makeup resulting in visible creases along his forehead, black smudges of paint framed his eyes up to his eyebrows, and a smear of contrasting blood-red lipstick forming a sinister smile; it was apparent he had worn this particular makeup for days. While lost in thoughts of the man before you, you failed to notice his accomplice stepping eloquently and unwavering out of the vehicle, it was until he vigorously slammed the door that you turned your attention to him. As he made his way around the front of the Cadillac, you noticed he had a stern look in his face, one that failed to project the light-hearted vibes that were usually associated with the classical clown makeup that decorated his face. The dim-yellow lighting provided by the street lamp prevented you from pinpointing the correct tone of the tuxedo this man was sporting, but there was no mistake in the coloring, it was red. Red like the devil himself. Your eyes wandered from his green locks downwards until you reached his hand, it was then you realized he was holding a bazooka. You practically felt the intense panic born from this observation ooze from every pore of your skin, your eyes never losing sight of the firearm in trepidation of what might occur next.  

“Well, hello beautiful” chirped the man before you in a playful tone, a tone that was unaccounted for, given the current circumstances. In any other situation, you would’ve welcomed the words with a warm smile, but that was an impossible task this time around; you slowly turned your head toward the source of the voice only to find the purple-clothed clown visually-inspecting you. He closed the short distance between the two of you all while lifting his hand and resting it upon your shoulder, giving him easy access to your ear; he wasted no time and whispered into your ear, “I’ll get back to you in a second, excuse me.” His hot breath made contact with your sensitive skin sending chills down your spine, your uncovered skin betraying you by exposing the goosebumps that rose all over your skin. There was something about this mysterious clown that aroused your senses, and even though you probably wouldn’t ever admit it, his brief contact left you desiring for more. Why did this menacing individual have such an effect on you? Immediately after, he spun to face his partner and pointed his index finger towards him, “y'know, for a man who loves to play with guns, you sure have terrible aim” he said teasingly only to radically change his tone into a relatively dour one within a matter of seconds, “try not to miss this time, will you?”, and just like that he began to march forward. Curiosity got the best of you as you turned in his direction, and it was then you noticed a caped-man riding a dark-colored opaque motorcycle towards the joker; the clown hunched his shoulders down as he came into an abrupt stop, clenching his fists as he daringly stared forward at the caped crusader. Then it hit you at once, the bomb previously thrown was used to create a divergence between the caped crusader and the jokers, which only meant that the bazooka was to be used for him as well. Your jaw dropped in horror, and your knees were seconds away from giving out until you heard a soft, tender voice utter, “you might wanna duck here, doll”; you flipped your head towards the formally dressed clown only to find him down on one knee, resting the bazooka on his shoulder as he tried to get an accurate hold of his target. Without a moment’s hesitation, you threw yourself onto the hard asphalt and quickly shielded your head with your arms allowing your forearms to cover your ears as you tightly shut your eyelids. 

All was quiet for a couple of seconds until a loud, monstrous blast resonated within the lonely streets of Gotham; your eardrums produced an eerie ring that made your skin crawl. You gently rose onto you knees and slowly opened your eyes taking notice how your knees were scrapped due to the savage manner in which you threw yourself on the road; realization hit you like a train, and you hastily turned towards the raging flames produced from the explosion, your eyes desperately looking for the joker and the motorcyclist. You registered how the motorcycle was bursting in uncontrollable flames, and in that instant, you felt a sharp pain in your stomach, causing you to clench the bottom of your dirt-stained shirt. You then turned your head downwards in shock and defeat, taking notice of your lightly bleeding palms; as you faintly began to message them to prevent yourself from crying, you heard a fit of hysterical laughter. In alert, you frantically searched for the source of the sinister guffawing, but a particular silhouette interrupted your plans as it captured your complete attention; Just like a soldier valiantly rising to face their opponent once again after receiving a severe beat down, the masked individual arose with great exhaustion from the pavement, having to use his right knee to leverage himself upwards. Your eyes widened in sudden realization of who this masked man was; he was none other than the infamous crime-fighting vigilante known as the Batman, the dark knight willing to sacrifice just about anything to provide security and restore hope to the citizens of Gotham. You couldn’t control yourself any longer and finally permitted your eyes to release tears full of joy and relief, relief that your hero, the man capable of helping you escape this horrible situation, was still alive; the moment truly felt like a divine experience until a low, diabolical growl made itself present within the corner of your eye. 

You cautiously faced the clown as he strode towards the Batman. 

“Y’know, I would’ve thought that after the death of your little boy-scout buddy, Robin was it?, you would’ve learned your lesson,” he said viciously as he reached for a crowbar hidden within the inner pockets of his coat, “but no, you just have to have things your way, don’t you? Guess history really does repeat itself, huh?”

“You’re an immoral scum with no respect for anyone or anything, not even for human life”

“that makes two of us, doesn’t it? You’re no different than me, you broke your one, golden rule with Harvey. In fact, I think you and I are so similar that we deserve to share something more than just a flawed moral status, don’t we? How ‘bout some scars, huh? Here I’ll help get you started,” and with that, he grasped the crowbar and charged at Batman with full force, directly striking his forehead, which sent him crashing right into the dark asphalt. 

The Joker swung at him repeatedly, his strength increasing exponentially after each impact when suddenly the Batman caught the head of the crowbar and jerked the metal backward sending the opposite end crashing down onto the Joker’s lower rib causing the clown to curse and bend in pain; he remained in that position for a fraction of a second only to straighten back and expel a wicked laughter from his throat that caused your heart to halt for a second. There was no doubt in mind that The Joker was like no other man, and you knew things were only going to take a turn for the worst; you wanted to help Batman, you truly did, but what exactly were you going to do? What could you do? Run up there and scream at the Joker to stop? Put your non-existent strength to the test and take a few jabs at the clown? As the Batman said, The Joker was a man that had no rules, that lived to put every belief into question, that took pleasure in demonstrating how any moral code was ill-founded; a man that had no real purpose in life other than to create absolute chaos. Just his mannerisms alone reflected how mentally unstable he was, the way in which he would roughly clench his fists that he would crack his knuckles, how he repeatedly licked his cherry-red lips in anticipation for havoc, how he snarled so ferally his whole body vibrated. Your head fell sideways in defeat, you felt as if you could cry once again but instead of releasing tears of joy, they’d be salty tears of incompetence. 

“Oh, you…you really are a stubborn person y'know that? Let’s play for a while longer. Then we’ll be able to see just how tough your little act of courage really is,” the Joker barked bitterly.

“You can entertain yourself with me all you want Joker, just let the girl go. That’s beneath you,” Batman said in genuine fear of what a low-life criminal like the Joker could do to a defenseless woman like yourself, the pain of his previous beating evident in his strained voice. Your ears perked up at the mention of your presence, a feeling of disgrace washing over you as you cognized how willing the Batman was to save you despite his helpless state. 

“Oh, you mean the little poodle? No, no, we got plans for her. But don’t worry, Arthur here will take good care of her,” the joker replied in a mischievous voice as he turned to face someone behind you, tucking his bottom lip below his upper lip.

It was then you realized that you had been so absorbed within the Batman-Joker ordeal that you completely disregarded the menacing clown behind you. And you really had failed to notice the way he observed you with lustful eyes, how he quietly took notice of every breath you exhaled, of the lock of hair you hid behind your ear, of the thin-layer of eyeliner that framed your eyes and the lip balm that moisturized your lips; he visually measured your breast size, picturing his hands softly caressing your breasts. Arthur didn’t fail to overlook how your tight, black skirt slowly rose from your knees up to your thighs, secretly worshipping your newly exposed skin. 

You whipped your head to face the clown, your pupils dilating in fear as you make direct eye contact with Arthur, who sported a wide grin across his face. Like a rabbit after spotting it’s stalking predator, you desperately tried to create a distance between the two of you, your plan being to rush to the Batman for safety despite knowing his current condition. Unfortunately, Arthur caught you from behind, imprisoning your arms and waist with his left arm all while covering your nasal and oral airways with a damp cloth using his right hand. 

After writhing under his unforgiving hold for what felt like hours, you fell limp under his firm clasp, feeling yourself slowly descent into a state of light-headedness due to the suffocation. As your body started to slump back onto Arthur, you were able to appreciate how comforting it felt to be under his hold, how warm his arms felt around your body. It was rather alarming, to say the least, how this man was able to put your mind in ease; it was as though something about him was able to fulfill that empty feeling in your chest. No longer in a state of panic, your muscles relaxed as you started to slip into an unconscious state, the last thing your mind was able to register was how the Joker ferociously thrashed Batman with his crowbar, which was now dripping in blood. 

A wave of sorrow washed over your body, and then that was it; everything just stopped. 

Everything simply got dark and quiet…

➳ Tag List: @aethersghoulette @tsukiakarinobara @lasquadrahoe @geronimosanna @clownboi24601 @justahyena @the-fanficcer  @khasoa @mimas749 

[syntaxeme]

Giardino Segreto ch. 9

[Read on AO3] | [First chapter] | [Next chapter (coming soon!)] Rating: M  Note: Hello naughty children it’s rating change time. Make of that information what you will. Also this chapter is stupidly long and I am stupidly sorry. Chapter summary: Angel is reminded how little his father cares about his (or Molly's) feelings, and he leaves Molly with a choice to make. Later, Angel finally gets back what was stolen from him earlier in the day, and Alastor has a number of very new experiences. How hard--er, difficult can it be, really?

— — –

There was silence for a moment as Angel processed what his sister was saying. Eventually, he pulled away to look her in the eye. “Molls, what’s goin’ on?”

She took a step back, shaking, trying in vain to wipe the smudged mascara from beneath her eyes. “Papa told me this morning about seein’ you at the lounge last night,” she confessed, starting to fidget with her curls again. “He said you had all these strangers with ya, you weren’t actin’ like yourself, so he…he asked me to come check on you.”

“For what?” Angel demanded, fighting between his frustration at being deceived and his patience with his sister.

“To find out what I could about what’s goin’ on here. He made it sound like you were in trouble and these people were usin’ you. Said I had to remind you where you belong and bring you home.”

“This is my home now.” When his sister reached for him, he took a step back to stay out of her grasp, betrayal written all over his face. “I knew you were actin’ weird while we were out. I knew you were askin’ too many questions. Goddamn it, Molly!”

“I’m sorry!” Molly insisted, her tears starting up again. “I was worried about you, caro! You were gone all that time, I was a nervous wreck, then Papa showed up and said he knew where to find you. How could I not come?”

“That’s exactly why he sent you,” Angel growled, arms crossed tightly, avoiding his twin’s eyes at all costs. “Cuz he knew you wouldn’t say no and he knew I’d talk to you. Sonofabitch. Usin’ his own fuckin’ daughter for recon.”

“And against his own son,” Alastor added.

“Fuck that; I ain’t his kid anymore,” the boy snapped back. “The Dellarosas ain’t shit to me but a roadblock.” At the sound of Molly’s muffled sob, he let out a sigh. “Y’know I don’t mean you, Mollina. But there was no way you could stay outta this forever. So what d’you wanna do?”

“Whaddaya mean?” she asked, her body language still withdrawn and nervous as if Angel might throw her out at any moment.

“I mean, are you okay with bein’ ‘seen and not heard’ in Enrico’s family, or do you wanna stay and be part of mine?”

The shock of the suggestion halted the tears still shining in her wide eyes. “Stay,” she repeated, “like for good?”

“Yeah. Why not? Enrico doesn’t give a shit about anyone he can’t control,” the boss said, not incorrectly. “That’s all ‘family’ boils down to for him. People who do what the fuck he says. It’s bullshit, and you deserve better. Stay here with us, and I guarantee everyone in this building’ll respect you the same as me.”

He looked to Alastor, either for confirmation or to make it clear that ensuring this was one of his responsibilities, and the Radio Demon nodded in turn. As always, Angel’s decisions were surprising. Not only had he separated himself from Enrico’s family, but now he was trying to persuade another of his children to defect as well. And judging by the look on Molly’s face, she was tempted.

“I dunno, Angelino,” she mumbled. “I wanna be with you, sure, but wouldn’t that mean I couldn’t see anyone at home anymore? Not even Mama or Criss…?”

“Hey, I’m not about to tell you what ya can or can’t do,” Angel said with a shrug, but Alastor was beginning to feel that his dispassionate attitude was a bit put on. “I’m just sayin’ I don’t like us bein’ separated any more than you do, and I’m way more interested in havin’ you here as my sister than as…I dunno, an ‘asset.’” When she didn’t answer after a moment or two, he went on, “Listen, I still got a lotta work to get done, so you should probably head home. Just think about it, all right?”

“And Enrico?” Alastor asked. “He’ll expect some sort of report, I imagine.”

“I’m not gonna tell him anything that could hurt you. I swear.” Molly was a bit hesitant about offering a hug, but Angel allowed it despite whatever tension remained between them. “And I’ll come back to visit again soon. Just a regular visit, no funny stuff.” Peering over his shoulder at Alastor, she added something in Italian. Angel laughed as he responded in kind. Not for the first time, Alastor wondered whether he should try picking up the language himself for just such occasions as this.

Once Molly had disappeared into the elevator with another small wave, Angel let out a breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Are you all right?” Alastor asked, possessed of an urge to pull the boy into his arms but unsure whether their current relationship allowed for things like that unprompted.

“I just can’t fuckin’ believe he sent her here to spy on me.” The boss took a deep breath, hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Every time I think he can’t go any lower, he always turns around and proves me wrong. He might not even let her come back.” He shook his head as if trying to fling those thoughts out of it. “It is what it is. At least I got to see her for a while today.” A surprisingly mature reaction coming from someone who had gotten used to his every whim being obeyed.

Trying to move on from the subject and to something more positive, Alastor instead asked, “Did you and Venture decide something regarding the Cortezes?”

“Ugh. No, not yet. Apparently, it got way more complicated since the last time we talked,” Angel sighed, running his fingers through his hair, simply shifting from one source of stress to another. “I barely got her to let me take a break to say bye to Molly. She put you to work too?” He nodded at the stack of envelopes in Alastor’s hands, which he had all but forgotten about.

“Oh. Well, I did tell you I’d find something to occupy my time while you were gone.”

“Yeah, but you mighta screwed up lettin’ her know how useful you can be. Now she’s never gonna give you a break.”

“Keep in mind, your orders outrank hers considerably. If there’s something else you’d like me to be doing…”

“I can think of a thing or two,” Angel answered with a playful grin. He started to reach for Alastor’s collar, as he often did when he wanted to pull him close, but once again, he stopped himself. “Uh, we should probably get back to it, though.”

Unsatisfied, Alastor impulsively caught his hand as he started toward the office, practically dragging him into an embrace. “That’s the second time today you’ve deliberately avoided touching me. Why is that?”

Angel wouldn’t look at him as he answered, “I dunno, I came on pretty strong this morning. Then earlier, you were actin’ like ya didn’t wanna be around me, so I thought maybe I freaked you out or somethin’.” He bit his lip so hard that, combined with the cut from earlier, it started to bleed again. Without thinking, Alastor leaned down the little that was necessary to lick the blood off his lips, enjoying the shiver that coursed through the boy’s body.

“Nothing could be further from the truth, cher. If anything, I’m impatient to have your attention all to myself again.”

Angel pressed closer to him, their lips met, and Alastor vaguely recognized the sound of a door opening, too absorbed in the kiss to pay attention to anything else. It wasn’t until they separated that Venture cleared her throat loudly, standing in the office doorway and looking pointedly away from them.

“I do hate to interrupt this riveting conversation you two are having,” she said, checking her watch, “but Angel, if I could have just an hour or two more of your time, we might get this Cortez deal finalized and in motion. Assuming that’s still something you’re interested in?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Angel sighed, pushing away from Alastor and raising his hands in defeat as he started to follow her back inside. Pausing at the door, he stopped Alastor with a hand splayed on his chest. “Hey, I want you to make sure Molly gets home okay. See what’s goin’ on with the Dellarosas too. Find out if they’ve got anything else in the works against us.”

“Consider it done.”

“Good. Then when you get back,” he added, lowering his voice slightly, “meet me upstairs and we’ll talk about whatever you find.” The wink he gave as he pulled the door shut behind him suggested there was a reason this conversation couldn’t happen in the office. Although he tried to fight it, to control it, Alastor had no choice but to quickly stride to the restroom for his first—though likely not last—real coughing fit of the day.

— — —

Recon on the Dellarosas was uneventful. Good thing, because Alastor’s mind was elsewhere the entire time. When Molly arrived home with her escort, naturally, Enrico tried to pump her for details about the Giardinos’ operation, but she remained vague and noncommittal about everything, playing up her natural unassuming innocence in a way that gave Enrico little to no usable information. Attagirl.

Although he was obviously disappointed with her ‘report’ and irritated at the thought of Angel, he still managed not to snap at her and instead thanked her for her efforts before sending her away. It seemed everyone had a bit of a soft spot for Molly. It was clear from the fevered argument he then had with his own consigliere that the Giardinos had him a bit panicked. He didn’t know exactly what action Angel had already taken against him or where he should be focusing his efforts at fighting back, and the size of the new family made him nervous in itself.

Good news all around, really.

By the time Alastor decided he’d learned all he could and headed back to the hotel, the evening was edging toward night. Even knowing that he had an invitation, he still felt a need to knock before waltzing into Angel’s suite, and the boss called from inside for him to come in.

He found Angel in the bedroom, standing just inside his closet on the far wall and, apparently, changing for bed. “Hey,” he said with a glance over his shoulder, in the process of stripping off his waistcoat. “How’d it go? Learn about any big sabotage plans Enrico’s makin’?”

“He doesn’t seem to have any yet. He still knows too little about us to start formulating any effective countermeasures.” Alastor resolved to wait in the living room rather than standing there watching Angel undress. Shedding his coat and taking a seat on the sofa, he continued, “I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear that Molly kept her word not to rat us out. She spent twenty minutes talking about the ‘adorable little bistro’ you took her to for lunch. So if Enrico ends up in the area and has a craving for a Nicoise salad, he’ll know where to go.”

“Yeah, I knew she wasn’t gonna turn on us like that. She’s too good to screw over somebody she loves.”

“I don’t think likes me much,” Alastor confessed after a moment’s hesitation. “She was looking at me sideways the entire time she was here, like she expected me to stab her in the back the moment she turned away.” For most people, that wouldn’t be an entirely unreasonable thing to expect from him—but not for someone so near and dear to Angel.

“Nah, it ain’t that,” Angel told him. “It’s about me more than you. I ain’t always had the best taste in men, so she’s used to the guys I date not treatin’ me right. She probably just figures you’re that same kinda guy.”

“Am I?” The thought made him sick to his stomach.

“Course not. First off, you’re not my boyfriend,” Angel pointed out as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re…I dunno, somethin’ else. More like a business partner, I guess. And you sure as hell don’t treat me like they did.” Some morbid curiosity prompted Alastor to wonder exactly how many men Angel had ‘dated,’ but he knew that whatever the answer was, it would make him miserable with jealousy.

When he didn’t respond, Angel sighed and came out of the bedroom to meet him, having already removed his shirt and tie. The bandeau he wore underneath was visibly tight, most likely too small for him for the purpose of binding his chest as flat as possible. Alastor couldn’t help wondering if that was entirely healthy.

“Hey.” The boss knelt in front of him to meet his eyes. “I mean it. You ain’t like the other guys I been with before. Y’know how long”—he let out a dry laugh—“how long it’s been since any man in my life gave a shit about what I want? Then outta nowhere, there’s you, and it’s like your top priority. How’m I supposed to act like that doesn’t mean anything?” He asked that almost to himself as his eyes drifted away from Alastor’s. Wincing slightly, he shifted his shoulders and tugged at the straps of his bandeau, which were digging into his skin.

“I can’t imagine that’s very comfortable,” Alastor noted. It looked much like the sort of thing that was in style during his time among the living, a decade or two outdated now but suited to this purpose. “And you’ve been wearing it all day; I’m sure you’d like to take it off.”

“Uh, yeah.” Angel wet his lips, his eyes darting toward Alastor’s and then away again. “D’you…maybe wanna help me with that?”

The only reason Alastor hesitated was that he’d never done any such thing before. But how hard could it be, really? “If you like.” He scooted back on the couch, leaving room for Angel to sit between his legs, which he did so the hook-and-eye closures that lined a portion of his spine were accessible. Simple enough. The task was made a bit harder by how tight the thing was; it was hard to imagine how Angel got in and out of it by himself every day. Once it was unhooked, he slipped it off and took in a deep breath—then coughed slightly as he exhaled. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Just this fuckin’ thing,” he said, tossing the bandeau into the corner of the couch, “crushin’ my ribs all day. I’m used to it.” Alastor’s gaze wandered across Angel’s shoulders and slowly down his back. As much as he (guiltily) wanted to enjoy seeing so much of Angel’s flawless skin, the moment was dampened slightly by the red marks still visible on his shoulders and along his ribs where the garment had dug into him. Drawing his shoulders back to stretch out the muscles in his chest, he let out a soft groan of pain.

“But even when you take it off, you’re clearly still sore.” Of course, seeing Angel in pain, Alastor’s first instinct was to suggest eliminating the cause—but he might suffer equally, in a different way, if he were to forego binding his chest. What was there to do, then? Hoping he wasn’t going too far, Alastor let his fingertips ghost down Angel’s spine. “Would touching you make it worse?”

“N-no.” The boy suppressed a shiver, his back arching slightly. “I mean, it’ll hurt, but I bet it’d help me get over it quicker. If you want.” Relieved that he could at least take some sort of helpful action, Alastor let his hands come to rest on Angel’s sides, just above his waist. The boy flinched slightly, so he made sure to take it slow, sliding his hands up, then back down and around to roam up his back instead. Angel’s hands were clenched into fists, his breathing slow and heavy in the still room, as Alastor’s hands reached his shoulders and gently eased them downward, allowing the rigid tension in his muscles to dissipate.

“Any better?” Alastor asked quietly, as if speaking too loudly might disrupt the moment, and Angel nodded without hesitation. When the demon’s thumbs pressed into his spine a bit harder, he let out a low moan and dropped his head.

“Right there,” he breathed, sending a chill through Alastor for reasons he couldn’t explain. Still, he obeyed, focusing his attention more on that spot while Angel hummed and moaned his approval. But those marks on his shoulders looked awfully irritated too. Edging closer still, the demon leaned down to let his lips brush reddened skin. His charge took a shuddering breath but didn’t stop him. There was another kiss, then another, then Alastor’s tongue against Angel’s skin, and the boy whispered, “God…”

The Radio Demon’s heart was pounding so hard he was sure Angel would hear it, but it didn’t stop him lining the boy’s shoulders with slow, open-mouthed kisses. Angel’s voice—whether it was whimpering over another brush of Alastor’s tongue or groaning deeply as the demon’s hands worked harder against his skin—was absolute music to Alastor’s ears; he would do anything to hear more, anything his love asked.

Trying to pace himself so Angel had every chance to stop him, he slid his hands slowly around the boy’s waist, then up his ribs to his chest. The boy took in a shaky breath and let his hands rest lightly on Alastor’s thighs. “Is this all right?” the demon asked, knowing this might be a sensitive subject regarding Angel’s gender.

“What? Y-yeah,” the boy mumbled with a distracted nod, tilting his head back onto Alastor’s shoulder to lean heavily against him. “Just don’t stop.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

“Mm, I really like hearin’ that,” he laughed airily, wetting his lips. “Gimme more, baby. I want it all.”

At any other moment, Alastor was sure those words would have sent him into an involuntary coughing fit, yet right now, they only encouraged him; he was hardly even aware of his illness as he took the time to figure out exactly how Angel liked to be touched, what made his breath catch or his body shiver. It was only when the boy whined, “Al, please” that he realized his slow and thorough treatment could be construed as cruel teasing.

Trying his best to be confident that he wouldn’t mess anything up, he moved his hands back down toward Angel’s hips to unfasten his slacks. One hand slid down the front of them to touch Angel through his last thin layer of clothing, and the boy let out a high-pitched whimper. The heat of him against Alastor’s hand was… He could hardly find words as he realized just how close they had gotten, that he was sucking and biting harder on Angel’s shoulder to leave a vivid mark against his skin. Every time he thought his desire couldn’t be any stronger, his love found a way to prove him wrong.

“D-don’t stop.” A hint of a whine snuck into Angel’s voice as he shifted his hips against Alastor’s fingers for more friction, which the Radio Demon gladly provided, using these moments to explore just as he had everything else Angel had allowed him. In the face of that sweet voice moaning for him and Angel’s hands grasping tighter at his legs, his patience quickly wore thin, and he pushed his hand underneath the boy’s underwear to touch him properly. “Aah! God, yes.”

Without meaning to, Alastor found himself whispering words of praise and adoration in French, his lips still pressed against Angel’s shoulder so every word flowed across his skin. How else could he possibly react? Angel’s sex was so soft, so slick, so incredibly hot, and every moment Alastor spent on feeling out what he liked best, the boy was panting and writhing against him for more.

“You’re amazing, chéri,” he breathed, lifting his head to run his tongue along Angel’s earlobe and capture it between his teeth.

“Mm, you…like it that much, huh?” Angel teased, reaching back to slide his fingers through Alastor’s hair. Please, mon ange, I like you. “You don’t hafta hold back, y’know. If ya want somethin’, you can just take it.” Although the encouragement was appreciated, there was no way he would do anything he thought Angel might be uncomfortable with. Even as he slid his fingertips downward to press against Angel’s entrance, he waited until the boy gave a slight nod before actually going inside. When he did, Angel took in a deep breath and leaned back harder against him, hips bucking eagerly.

While they figured out this next step together, he took Alastor’s free hand from where it was still teasing his chest and pulled it up to rest on his throat instead. His smaller hand curled lightly around Alastor’s, prompting the demon to tighten his grip until Angel whined, “Fuck.” As much as he wanted to be sure he wasn’t going too far, there was something inexplicably exciting about hearing Angel’s voice pitch higher and feeling each breath drag against his palm.

When Angel managed to turn over his shoulder enough to wordlessly ask for a kiss, Alastor stopped everything else to give it his full attention, exploring every inch of his love’s sweet mouth with as much passion as the first time. “Al?” The boy struggled to speak past the distraction of Alastor’s fingers moving inside him (though he encouraged the motion with his own rolling hips). “Can we…go to bed?”

“Of course, cher.” Another quick kiss, and he gently pulled his fingers out to sweep the boy up in his arms and to his bed. Though he was visibly shaking as he did so, Angel managed to wriggle out of his remaining clothing, leaving himself completely bare and stretching out against his dark sheets. Alastor’s heart very nearly stopped at the vulnerable and painfully attractive sight before him. After indulging in one more delicious kiss, he dropped his head to work his lips across Angel’s throat, along his collarbone, down to his chest, exploring and worshiping every inch of smooth skin he could reach.

“I’m, uh…plenty excited already, honey,” Angel mumbled, stroking his thumb across Alastor’s cheek to get his attention. “We can just. Y’know. Get to it if ya want.”

“Do you want me to stop? Do you not like this?”

“No, no, I do!” he argued quickly. “I just figured you might be gettin’ impatient.”

“Don’t worry about that, mon chéri. What I’m doing right now is exactly what I want to be doing.” To illustrate, Alastor leaned down and ran his tongue slowly along the curve of Angel’s chest until he shivered and squirmed. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Let me take my time enjoying it.”

A bashful smile graced Angel’s lips as he looked away in a vain attempt to hide his blushing. “Yeah, okay. I mean, if it’s that important to you.”

“It absolutely is.” Satisfied that he was doing all right despite his inexperience, he continued working his way lower, kissing down Angel’s ribs and the dip of his waist, finally settling between his legs to lick gently along the shape of his hipbones. He made sure to go particularly slow about this part, running his tongue lightly down the curve where Angel’s thigh met his hip, nibbling along the sensitive skin on the inside of his thigh while he tensed and sighed in anticipation.

When Alastor’s tongue finally slid between his legs, the boy let out a clipped squeak of shock. “Is this all right?”

“Yeah,” Angel said with a firm nod. “Don’t stop.” Alastor was quickly discovering that he enjoyed that particular command and didn’t hesitate to comply. After those few minutes of exploring with his fingers earlier, he had an idea of where and how Angel would like his tongue, and from the sound of his love’s voice—as he’d gotten much more vocal all of a sudden—he was doing just fine. “God! That’s…mm, so good, baby. Fffuck yes…”

The action soon became more natural, allowing Alastor to relax and not focus on it too much. Meaning he could instead focus on Angel’s taste coating his tongue and the warmth of his svelte body. Both the boy’s hands had threaded through his hair to keep him close, and he found himself moaning against Angel’s skin with every breath. Somehow, he hadn’t realized exactly how much he would enjoy the physical act of pleasing his love, but he couldn’t deny that Angel’s pleasure brought him a certain gratification as well. He lost track of exactly how long he was at it before Angel addressed him directly again.

“Al?” he panted. “If you’re gonna fuck me, you…you better hurry up and… L-listen, I’m gonna cum if ya keep that up.”

A hot shiver rushed through Alastor’s core. “That’s exactly what I want, cher.”

“Huh? But don’t you…don’t you want…” The boy dropped his head back against the bed with a frustrated groan, obviously struggling to string words together at this point. Still, his argument didn’t last long, as his moans quickly climbed in pitch and volume. “God, yes, honey, just like that!”

Alastor paused just long enough to suggest, “My name, Angel.”

Clearly in no state to argue, he easily obeyed: “Al—Alastor! Don’t stop. Please. I’m so close, I—” He let out what was nearly a scream as he came, his spine arching and hips bucking reflexively. He called out Alastor’s name more than once while he rode out his orgasm, treating the Radio Demon to all the longing and affection his sweet voice could hold. Even as he started to relax, however, Alastor couldn’t bring himself to stop; he kept his tongue moving, fast and smooth, against all the right spots until he coaxed a second orgasm out of his exhausted charge. Angel’s cries were even higher, breathless, strained as he shuddered and squirmed against the bed.

Alastor only now realized what a mess this little session had made of his face, so he quickly wiped his mouth and crawled closer for a kiss much gentler than the ones previous. Despite his distraction, Angel managed to grasp tightly at his shirt with both hands. Even when he had to tear his lips away for a deep breath, he still refused to let go.

“Are you all right, chéri?” Alastor asked, beginning to genuinely worry; Angel’s body was visibly shaking all over, his breathing labored and irregular, and his eyes were still clouded even as he tried to blink them clear. He nodded absently, but it wasn’t a terribly convincing answer. Lying down at his side, Alastor grabbed the mussed blankets to cover the two of them, then wrapped his arms firmly around Angel to hold him close. The boy didn’t begin to argue, burying his face against Alastor’s chest.

Very slowly but surely, he relaxed little by little. His trembling eventually stopped, and his breathing stabilized. In fact, Alastor almost suspected he’d fallen asleep until he pulled away slightly to look up. “Sorry,” he mumbled, embarrassed. “I get…kinda worked up sometimes.”

“I thought that was the idea,” Alastor teased, relieved to see he was doing better.

“Ha ha. Guess you’ve earned a couple wise cracks after that. I mean, seriously, that was—I don’t even know how to say it, you were so good.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, then.”

“But…” His smile slipping a bit, Angel looked up with something like concern on his face instead. “I dunno why you didn’t do it for real. I’m a little tired now, but I can still do somethin’ for you if you want.” One of his hands slid down Alastor’s chest and stomach toward his hips, but the demon caught it before it could go any further.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, lifting the boy’s fingers to his lips to kiss them. “I’m perfectly happy right where I am.” In spite of the period of freedom he’d just had, his chest tightened again with those words, but he managed to smile through it. It was a fact that he didn’t need (or especially want) any sort of sexual attention now that he knew Angel was satisfied. It was also true, however, that he was not perfectly happy as long as his feelings were kept in the dark. Later. Now isn’t the time.

“I don’t get it,” Angel said, still frowning as he pulled his hand back. “I don’t get you. After all that time you spent touchin’ me, all that talk about how you’ve been ‘thinkin’ about this’—you really weren’t into it at all?”

“Angel, what about my attitude over the past hour could have given you that impression?” Of course, Alastor had known that this conversation was coming sooner or later.

“Just the fact that you haven’t made a single move on me for yourself.” The boy drew away from him, crossing his arms, starting to shift from confusion to irritation. “I never met a single fuckin’ guy in my life that wasn’t way more interested in gettin’ his rocks off than whatever I was into.”

“I don’t understand why my concern for your comfort is a negative thing,” Alastor sighed, sitting up to rake his hair back away from his eyes.

“It ain’t that,” Angel snapped, sitting up as well but keeping the sheet close against him so he was covered. “Sure, maybe you’re the one fuckin’ guy on the planet that gives a shit if his ‘partner’ likes it too. But that still doesn’t explain why ya wouldn’t actually fuck me. I’ve given ya plenty of chances. So I figure you’re just…not into me.”

“I promise you that isn’t the case.” Arguing turned out to be much more difficult while simultaneously fighting back a cough, and this sudden rift between them was only stoking his illness further.

“And if you’re not, then why bother pretending?” Angel continued as if he hadn’t spoken, now too wrapped up in his fears to see reason. “Did you just—” He stopped, wide-eyed, stricken with horror. “Did you do it because of the contract? Because I told you to?”

“No!”

“God, I’m so fuckin’ stupid.” The boy curled his knees up to his chest, burying his face in his hands. “I shoulda known after how you acted last night. I dunno why I just assumed you’d be interested.”

“Angel, please—”

“Look, ya don’t hafta fake it for my sake. If you don’t want me—”

Unable to force out another word, frustrated with Angel’s refusal to hear him, unsure of what else to do, Alastor caught the boy in his arms and dragged him close for a firm kiss. Not just firm but insistent. Ravenous. It went on long enough that his symptoms abated, and Angel didn’t fight it for a moment, melting against him and kissing him back with as much fervent desire as he could muster. When they separated, he needed a moment to catch his breath, and Alastor took advantage of the silence to make his point.

“Please don’t ask me again whether I want you.” He pushed both hands into Angel’s hair, tilting his head upward so their eyes met. “I have, I do, and I don’t foresee myself stopping. I’ll admit my feelings about sex are…probably not the same as yours. Probably not the same as most men’s. But that doesn’t mean I’m not attracted to you or that I don’t take any pleasure in seeing you enjoy me. I am, and I do. Even if not in quite the way you’re used to.”

Angel’s cheeks had started to flush again, and his eyes wandered away thoughtfully. “Ya just…don’t like doin’ it?”

“It’s more that I don’t have any particular need for it. But I do like knowing I’m satisfying you. And I certainly liked hearing you call my name that way.” His smile turned a little more mischievous, and Angel managed a small one of his own, swatting Alastor’s chest lightly. “That’s my way of wanting you, cher.”

Angel nodded slowly. “You’re really not like the guys I been with before,” he mused, taking Alastor’s hands from his hair to hold them in his own. “At all. It’s gonna take some gettin’ used to, but I think it might be a good thing.”

“You think so?”

“Well, there’s a reason they’re all exes, y’know?” Angel explained dryly. “Maybe this’ll turn out different.”

As he leaned forward for another gentle kiss, Alastor struggled to calm the sudden rush of hope that filled his chest to the point that there was no room for roses. Maybe things were a bit rocky there for a moment, but this conclusion they’d come to was even more promising than he’d even dared imagine. It would be his mission, he decided, to make up for whatever pain or mistreatment Angel had—apparently—suffered at the hands of the other men in his life. It would be different with him. Better.

“So, are you gonna pretend to sleep with me again?” Angel teased, unknotting Alastor’s tie to slip it off and unbuttoning his collar but not trying to undress him any further.

“It would be my pleasure.” But to his surprise, Alastor found himself so comfortable, both physically and mentally, that he instead wound up sleeping through the night for the first time in years, with Angel all the while curled up at his side.

[always-against-the-grain]

party favor

Summary: Teasing Negan has its consequences. Continuation of summmertime high

Pairing: AU Negan x reader (female, named Eddie)

Tags: AU Negan, Negan smut, Negan x reader, rough-ish smut

About an hour had passed since you spoke to Negan by the appetizer table, and you couldn’t stop replaying his words in your head: “Or maybe it’s my cum dripping down your legs” 

There were brief moments where you’d forget about him and this morning, but as soon as you’d catch eyes across the yard, it all came rushing back to you. How deep he had fucked you and how spilled inside you. Arousal bubbled inside you, snowballing with every cocky smile he gave you and lick of lips. 

Negan had been hanging out with your father and other neighborhood dads all night, talking football and home projects. Though he made sure to lock eyes with you every now and then, causing you to miss far too many shots in your beer pong game. 

Goddammit. You were frustrated how he had you twirled around his fingers from anywhere across the room. God, his fingers. 

Towards the end of your game, you noticed Negan was isolated in the corner of the yard - a beer in his hand, smoking a cigarette. He usually wore a leather jacket, but due to the festivities, he went with a navy blue flannel, unbuttoned all the way - exposing one of his endless crisp white tees. 

After losing the game and the twenty dollars you placed on it, you decided to confront him. You walked over with a masquerade of merely being a good hostess and saying hello. 

“Hey Eddie, you building a house with all those bricks you were shooting?” He joked.

“Stop it,” you gritted out with a fake smile smeared across your face, acting like you were making small talk. 

“Stop what hon?” Negan said playing dumb.

“You fucking know what,” you said softly, keeping your hostess act together. 

“Am I making you soak through those tight jeans?” He knew exactly what he’d been doing all night. 

Your heart rate skyrocketed. You were too easy for him, too fun to play with. You had had a mixture of sexual urges and irritability flowing through your blood, and you were desperate to make him feel the same way. 

You did the only thing that could even the playing field. A quick peripheral sweep of your surroundings and you palmed Negan through the front of his pants, using your body to block the view of your hands of any wandering eyes. 

“Jesus Christ Eddie” Negan was caught off guard, his body tensing. 

He gently swatted your hand and stepped away, “Unless you want me to drag your ass upstairs I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.”

“You won’t,” you said boldly before taking a sip of your red solo cup, maintaining eye contact over the rim. 

You causally pivoted away and walked inside, heading straight to the hallway bathroom. You were surprised at what you just did. You were a semi-reckless college kid, but not grab-my-hot-older-neighbors-dick reckless. 

You splashed cold water on your face, trying to relax and calm yourself down. You stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment, chugged the remaining of your drink, and tossed it before stepping out. 

“Were you rubbing one out in here?” Negan was leaned against the wall closest to the door. 

He walked in, corralling you back into the bathroom and shut the door.

“Negan-“you started as you stepped backwards and saw him click the lock. 

“Relax, everyone’s outside. Fireworks are about to start”

His hands went straight to your hips to pull you close to him, as his mouth began attacking yours. You lustfully kissed him back. 

His hands roamed your sides and back under your red halter top. His ministrations included groping your ass before swiveling you to face the mirror. You extended your arms and braced yourself on the porcelain counter. His long arms and body caged you against the hard material, his center simultaneously rolling into you, trying to get more friction. 

“You feel what your clever little hands do to me?” He breathed out while nibbling on your ear. 

“Negan, my - ah fuck” you moaned out. 

“- my folks. The party..” you backtracked, your common sense telling you this wasn’t a good idea. 

He sucked lightly on your upper trap before planting kisses along your neck, instinctively you bent your neck over to the side to expose more of yourself to him. He stopped at the edge of your jaw and looked into your eyes through the mirror. His hazel colored orbs piercing your soul, flooding your gut and center with butterflies. 

“Best keep it down then” His entire persona oozed dominance. 

He found the front button of your jeans and undid them, pulling them down to half your thighs along with your thin undergarment. 

He ran two fingers along your slit, playing with your juices vertically. His index finger magically strummed your clit, you wanted to spread your legs, but the fabric rolled at your thighs didn’t allow such movement.

“You really were gonna soak your pants there huh hon?”

“I mean, would you look at that” he removed his fingers and brought them to your field of vision. 

You saw his shiny, glimmering fingers covered with your clear viscous fluids. He brought his fingers closer to your face. 

He coated your lower lip with your juices, your tongue slipping out to draw them in. He gently shoved them into your mouth, scissoring your tongue while you suckled on them.

“Fuck, you’re a dirty girl. You like tasting yourself, doll?” 

“Mmhmm” you affirmed with his digits in your mouth. 

He slipped them out and cupped his hand under your chin.

“Spit” he ordered 

You extracted as much saliva as you could and dripped it into his hand. 

“Remember you gotta stay quiet” he reminded you as you heard his belt click followed by his zipper, and the faint gushing sounds of him lubricating his cock with your spit. 

He held your hips in place with one hand while the other guided his member up and down your folds. He teasingly probed you with just the head several times before entering you completely with one smooth motion. 

“Aghh” You moaned out. White knuckling the edge of the counter. 

“What did I just say” Negan condemned you and immediately froze his motions. 

He slowly exited halfway and pumped himself back in, to the hilt. Your thighs bound together by your waist of your jeans made you tighter for him. He slowly and deeply fucked you, feeling his tip tickle your cervix. 

You continued to make audible moans. You couldn’t help it, his length, his girth, his angle. Him. 

“You gotta keep it down hon,” Negan warned you 

“Or am I gonna have to nuzzle you like the little whore you are?” His deep voice vibrating through your body. 

Holy fuck. His words bringing you closer to your release. You were never spoken to like this, and you didn’t expect yourself to be into it. 

He brought his hand to cover your mouth, his other arm wrapped tightly around your pelvis, and he shoved himself rougher into you. 

Your sounds were effectively muffled by Negan’s large callused hands. He kept his hard and deep motions, he increased and decreased his speed, building your orgasm for release. 

You tried to tell him you were close, but his palm blurred your words. 

“Are you gonna come?”

You looked at him through your reflections and nodded. 

He sped up, directing your release. 

“That its doll. You’re gonna come around my cock, with everyone outside, your parents, your friends - they don’t know what a dirty girl you are.”

The coil in your stomach tightened, and you withered beneath him. He shimmed the hand that was wrapped around your hip and rubbed your clit instead. 

You moaned louder into his hand, and you become undone, collapsing onto your elbows. Negan’s arms reflexively held you up. 

Negan continued to fuck your limp body, chasing his release. He stifled his grunt into the crook of your next. His stubble lightly pricking your skin. 

“Fuck” he whispered

He stayed inside you, emptying all of his milky seed until he softened. He pulled out and tucked his member back in and zipped himself up. 

Negan only brought your underwear up to its original position. Leaving your pants pulled down. 

Remaining on your elbows, he leaned over to whisper in your ear, his hand rubbing your center through the fabric, “Now, your gonna walk out of here with my spunk swimming in your panties.”

He turned around and wiped his forehead with the bathroom towel while you pulled your jeans up. 

Before exiting, he cupped both sides of your jaw with his hands, looking into your eyes, “Next time you wanna pull some shit like that just know I’ll call your bluff. I’ve been fucking longer and harder than you sweetheart”

He leaned down to meet you for one final sloppy rough kiss. He left first closing the door behind him. 

____________

You waited a few minutes before you exited the restroom. Luckily everyone was outside distracted by the fireworks. No one noticed your disappearance as you made it back by the end of the show. 

Towards the end of the night, or the next day considering it was well past midnight, people dwindled out. You and your mother were in the kitchen wrapping leftovers while your father and Negan were in-and-out bringing in the ice chests to organize the next morning. 

Negan walked toward the kitchen, and gave the island a soft slap, “Well, Frankie, I think Klaus and I are about done, is there anything else I can help with?”

“No, Negan, I think we’re all set. Thank you so much for your help, like always,” your mom answered.

“Like always, thank you for the hospitality” he smiled at your mom, and the instant she turned away he shot you a wink, causing you to drop the empty Tupperware in your hand. 

Fuck. you thought to yourself frustrated and flustered once more 

“You outta here Negan?” You’re dad asking walking in, closing the sliding door. 

“Looks like, the missus says everything is square”

“Alright then,” your dad and Negan shook hands. 

“Eddie, are you gonna say goodbye?” Your mom asked, a little embarrassed you forgot your manners. 

“Oh. Shit. Yeah. Goodbye Negan, have a nice night, or morning? Yeah...” your voice awkwardly fading out. 

“Thanks Ed. You too. And good luck with the whole senior year thing.” he smiled before making way toward the door, your dad walking him out. 

Bastard 

tagged accts:

@jamiekingofmen

[rogerina-yee-haw]

Ben Hardy - NSFW Alphabet

a/n: it’s finally fucking here!! hope you enjoy!! 

THANK YOU FOR 600+ FOLLOWERS! ILY ALL!!!

you thirsty hoes,,,,I love you all, and you fucking bombarded me with “BEN HARDY NSFW ALPHABET PLEASE”. here. have what you asked for. it’s shitty and not well-written. but I am the same thirsty hoe as you all are, so we’ve gotta enjoy little things. LOVE Y’ALL and keep bombarding me with horny shit pls <3

Ben i hope you never see this and it’s clearly based on the image of Ben i have in my head and has nothing to do with reality

warnings: smut (adults only please), language, typos

disclaimer: everything (!) is consensual. Always ask for your partner’s consent on different sexual and other things. 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Ben is a really caring and loving person. It doesn’t matter whether the sex was rough or slow - he’d still take care of you. He helps clean you up, sometimes he’d just cuddle with you till you fall asleep; sometimes he makes you both tea and you just watch some romcom together while cuddling.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of their partners)

Ben worships every part of you. Of course, while having sex, he pays special attention to your boobs and ass, but he still adores your whole body. He loves your hands, the way they feel on his skin when you cup his face and kiss him, and the way they feel on his cock. Ben can’t get enough of you; he’s so in love and he just knows that every part of you is perfect.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

If you have sex without a condom (what happens occasionally as you’re running out of them quite often), he comes on your boobs, ass or stomach. When you give him a blowjob and you give him a clear consent that it’s alright, he comes in your mouth.

D = Dirty Secret

Ben has too many. He wants to try anal, threesome, tie you up to bed, foodplay...Whenever you two discuss something new you want to try, he’d bring up one of this things; and if you agreed to it, he’d be happy to oblige.

E = Experience (How experienced are they?) 

He’s experienced enough to give you at least two orgasms during the might. 

F = Favourite Position

Any position under the sun. He loves missionary (cause he’s a soft vanilla boi), loves to watch how you tits bounce in tune with hus thrusts; doggy, you on top, reverse cowgirl, 69... you name it. He’s strong enough to pull up the plough and fuck you against the wall. This man loves every position because he gets to have sex with you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Sometimes he is goofy. Sometimes it’s both him and you telling each other silly stuff, whispering sweet nothings and just having lazy sex. Sometimes it’s pure lovemaking when his thrusts are sensual and passionate, it’s gripping his shoulders and running his hands through your hair, just worshipping each other. And sometimes it’s rough, with dirty words spilling from his mouth. “You’re such a bad girl, you don’t get to cum”, “You like that? Like my cock deep inside you, like me filling you up?”, “Look at how needy you’re, letting me fuck you the car”. He has you across his lap, spanking and fingering you till you’re begging for sweet release.

The thing is, you never now what kind of sex you’re going to have. It’s always different with Ben, and you love it to no end.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) 

Have you ever seen this man with a stubble? Me neither. That’s why he probably keeps it clean shaved down there as well.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Ben is very romantic. He can’t keep his hands off of you, he can’t stop whispering praises and love words against your skin. He just loves you too much.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

When he’s away filming, he jacks off rather often, especially when you two have phone sex. He just imagines that it’s your mouth wrapped around his length, sucking him off just the way he likes it, and it helps him to keep up for the next couple of days without you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Let’s get this bread these kinks:

Hair pulling. He lets out an animalistic growl whenever you tug on his hair too harshly whenever he eats you out, and it just drives him insane.

Breeding kink. It’s some serious shit right here: he gets hard immediately whenever he thinks about you being pregnant with his child. He doesn’t specifically try to get you pregnant, but when once you ask him to cum inside you, he just looks at you with wide eyes. “Are you sure, baby?”. “Ben, I want it. I know you do too”. And he’s just so determined to it, so any time you’d have sex without a condom, he is more than happy to cum in you and get you pregnant. Not that you mind.

Dirty talk. This man is a pro at it. It’s like pure filth is just spilling from his mouth whenever he fucks you roughly. “On your knees, love”, “Fuck, you’re so good, taking me so well”, “You don’t know how good you look being wrecked by my cock”. Sometimes you two would have sex in front of a body-length mirror (don’t ask why), and he would say shit like this, “Look at your pretty tits bouncing like this”, “You’re such a dirty girl, begging for my cock inside you”, “You’ve gotta learn to be quiet, love, or I won’t let you cum”. When he spanks you, the talking would be even filthier. “You’re already so wet, such a little slut”, “You were such a bad girl today, didn’t wear panties just to tease me, and now I have to punish you”, “Count for me, baby”, “Do you like it? Like when I’m spanking you?”, “You take it so well, angel, such a good girl”. 

Daddy kink. Look me in the eyes and tell me it doesn’t get him going. Right. You can’t, cause it’s true. Whenever you whimper “daddy” while he’s pounding into you, he’ll fuck you even harder. If you’re teasing him, and at one point you say “Oh, daddy, please, fuck my tight little pussy”, in a seductive voice, you know for sure he’d fuck the soul outta you on the nearest surface.

Dominance. He’s usually this cute softie, but when you ask him for it, he’ll be in his full dom!mood. “You want to cum, huh? You better earn it”, “You want me to fuck your tight little pussy, hm? Use your words, love”.

Bondage. When you agreed to be tied up to bed, Ben went crazy. And when you suggested tying him up and then sucked him off for dear life, he was more than happy. He’s just one kinky boi.

Overstimulation. It goes both ways. When he makes you cum once, he doesn’t stop until you’re practically screaming and coming again. Sometimes you’d suck him off and when he reaches his high, you wouldn’t stop until he does it again.

Choking. Have you seen thse hands? Holy fuck. Once, he’d be fucking you from behind and wrap his fingers around your neck lightly, just to feel you. And when you squeezed his wrist and whispere, “Harder, daddy”, he had to restrain himself from busting right then and there.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere. You had sex in public places too many times because of different reasons: in a public restroom cause you were drinking wine and licking your lips; in his car because you were dancing to this one song and your tits were bouncing in this tank top that you were wearing, and Ben just had to pull over and put you on his lap and fuck you.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You. You make him go crazy, literally anything you do.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Ben wouldn’t do anything that would hurt both of you.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving. The man is a fucking professional. Like, have you seen him? Exactly. His tongue and fingers would bring you over the edge multiple times a night. 

Receiving. He loves seeing you on your knees, licking on his tip, taking him in his mouth, likes seeing your mascara running and makeup being ruined because you put your heart and soul into giving him the best blowjob in his life.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It’s always different with Ben. He may start slowly, devour you sensually, but then pick up the pace and be rough and thrust into you harshly, just the way you like it.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Ben doesn’t really like quickies, he prefers proper sex more. But with the busy schedule you both have it’s not always possible to fuck each other normally. So you have quickies rather often.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Ben would always love to experiment if this is something that you want, too.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

He is one strong boi™. He can go at least for two rounds.

T=Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

There are some toys that you both own and Ben loves to use them on you, when you’re squirming and begging him to let you cum.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Ben enjoys it. He just adores your cute face when you’re impatient, when you can’t hold your orgasm back anymore. He’d tease you to no end, he’d be teasing you to the point when you have to bury your face in your hands and squeeze your thighs - just to cover yourself from everyone (such teasing usually happens in public places, specifically in restaurants, under the table).

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s loud when he’s close to cumming. Usually he grunts and growls, and when you’re riding him, he lets out moans and praises.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Ben is actually really soft. Even when his dom!persona is on the full mode, he still is very gentle and caring. He’d call you, “love”, “baby”, “angel”, and would always care about your comfort first. He cries very easily (usually when he’s too excited and happy), loves to cuddle with you whenever there is a possibility and just loves to be domestic and gentle.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

His size is enough to make you scream and beg for more.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Really high. Anything you do gets him going - starting from cooking and laughing and ending in you lying naked under him. You always make him all smitten and turned on.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He’s quick to fall asleep, especially if the sex was rough and hard. You love to watch him sleep, when he’s snorting quietly and he just looks like an absolute angel.

[crashdevlin]

Repulsion

On a Hiding to Nothing Masterlist

Author’s Note: Written to fulfill my Demon!Dean square for @spnkinkbingo​ also tagging @darkspnimagines​ ‘cause... well, it’s dark.

Pairing(s): Demon!Dean x Twin Sister!Reader

Summary:  Y/n and Dean Winchester were inseparable when they were young. Dean’s always wondered why his twin went cold, but it’s not until he’s a demon that he forces the truth from her, about a drunken night he doesn’t remember that she wishes she could forget.  THIS IS A DARK FIC!

Word Count: 5935

Story Warnings: angst, depression, 18+ HERE BE SEX! DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!! NON-CON, past non-con fingering, manipulation, unprotected sex, incest, sister wincest

You sighed, looking over the paper for the dozenth time. Sammy Let Me Go on a small piece of lined yellow paper. He hadn’t addressed it to you, just Sam. Dean knew Sam wouldn’t stop looking for him, but you… well, you were too tired to keep up the fight, had been for years.

You’d seen your twin brother die too many times. You’d seen your baby brother die too many times. You’d seen Castiel die and far too many other friends. You were tired and Dean knew that. So, he didn’t think you’d go looking for him, but you weren’t so gone that you’d let Sam go looking for him alone.

So you went. You went alone while Sam summoned demons to torture for information. You found him easily. Dean, as a demon, was interested only in enjoying himself. You found him at a strip club, tossing twenties at the Thursday afternoon dancers. He ignored you as you approached, eyes never leaving the mostly bare woman on the stage. “Dean.”

“Go. Away. Y/n/n.”

“Sorry, brother. It doesn't work like that. Sam needs you home, so by extension, I need you home. Come on.”

“Sorry, sister. It doesn't work like that. I told Sam to let me go. Guess now I gotta tell you.” He turned his head just enough for his green eyes to catch your matching ones. “Leave me alone, y/n. Just walk away.”

“Yeah, unfortunately, you’ve shared a dangerously codependent relationship with Sam so he can't just let you go. So I can't walk away.”

He turned to you fully, then, dropping his boots off of the crossbeam of the chair and standing. “You ever wonder why you an’ I don't have a relationship like that? I mean, ain't twins supposed to be creepy-close, makin’ up secret languages together and feelin’ each other's pain?”

You swallowed hard but stood your ground. “Look, D., I will be the Tomax to your Xamot and we can develop Winchester Latin together if you just come home.”

He wagged his finger at you. “Nah, see, I think there's something there, y/n. ‘cause I remember we were close when we were young, taking care of Sammy, only havin’ each other to lean on, being Dad's perfect little soldiers, but you pulled away. I think it was right about the time Sam ran off to Stanford, you went cold.”

You licked your lips and shook your head. “Dean…” You struggled with the words and you knew that meant he had won. The demon your twin became was going to latch onto this one thing, this one harsh memory, and pull it from you. “It's not-”

The smirk that turned up the corner of his mouth made your stomach roil. “What's not what?” He faked a sincere look, right down to the Winchester puppy dog eyes. “Come on, y/n. You know you can tell me anything.”

You took a step back, moving toward the fire exit. You’d call Sam and Cas for backup. You shouldn’t have approached him alone, anyway. “No, I can’t. Not this.”

Dean followed you into the dark hallway, either incensed by curiosity or the fact that you were planning to call in assistance. In a flash, your face was pressed into the sticky wall next to the men’s restroom, your arms twisted behind your back with Dean leaning over you. “Come on, y/n. It’s gotta be somethin’ big if you’re running from it. Tell me.”

“Dean, don’t.”

“Start talkin’, sister, or I’m gonna start breakin’ bones,” he whispered, getting a hold on your first finger on your right hand and twisting it to just before the breaking point.

“Ow, fuck! D. please.”

“I like the begging, but it’s not what I wanna hear right now. Story time, bitch. Go.”

You whimpered, unable to stop the audible evidence of your weakness from leaking out. “Fine! God, I’ll tell you! Fuck.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “The week after Sam left… you got drunk.”

“That’s not news. I spent the first two months he was gone in a bottle.”

“Yeah, well, this night didn’t end with you passed out in the back of Dad’s car or in some roadhouse chick’s bed, it ended with you crawling into mine,” you whispered. You could feel tears popping up along the lashes of your closed eyes. “Ended with your tongue in my mouth and your hand down my pants.”

There was a long moment of silence before he let go of your finger. “Really?” he drawled quietly.

“You-you didn’t remember it the next morning, so I just never said, but I had to distance. I couldn’t…”

He chuckled, darkly, and pressed himself closer to you. “You fuckin’ liked it, didn’t you?”

Your eyes snapped open. “That’s disgusting! No, I fucking didn’t.”

“Lie-ar,” he said in a singsong tone. “Even when I’m blackout drunk, I’m real good with my hands. You, at twenty-two, inexperienced, innocent little virgin? Bet you came, didn’t’cha?”

Your cheeks heated at his words, at the memory of Dean giving you your first orgasm with his long fingers buried in your virgin pussy. “That’s not- I didn’t-”

“Not your fault you were a virgin for so long, ya know? I spent more’n a decade chasin’ off any guy who might be interested. Starting with that quarterback douche in Fairfax that wanted to take you to the drive-in.”

“What?” You twisted to try to see him better. You’d always thought it was you scaring guys off, that the switchblade in your purse or the warrior mindset your father had impressed upon you from such an early age was just too much for most men. It never even occurred to you that you didn’t lose your virginity until Dean was in Hell. Bobby introduced you to a hunter friend to watch your back while Sam ran off to be with Ruby and he just happened to end up enamored with you. He didn’t stick around after Dean came back. He said he couldn’t handle the Winchester drama. That loss, it was the tipping point of your depression, the thing that made the pain your every day normal.

“Yeah. After I kicked Jesse to the curb, you seemed to finally get it, stopped trying.”

“What?” you repeated, tears popping up in your eyes again. “You made Jesse leave?”

Dean took a step back, allowing your arms to drop limply to your sides as you pulled away from the wall and turned around to look at him. There wasn’t a speck of guilt or shame on his face as he shrugged. “Wasn’t good enough for you. None of ‘em were.”

“Are you- I loved him! I gave up when he left. I-”

“He obviously didn’t love you if he left.” He shrugged again. “Didn’t try to fight for you, didn’t try to convince me he was worth a damn, just scurried off like the cockroach he was. Not worth your tears, y/n.”

“Why? Why would you do this?”

He pursed his lips, then scratched the side of his nose. “The old me, I’d say it was all to protect you. Save you from a bunch of guys who wanted to use you, but… eh, what’s the point of lying? If I couldn’t have you, no one could. And I really could not have you.”

“That’s sick!”

“You know you were my first wet dream?” he continued, speaking nonchalantly, as he leaned against the opposite wall of the hallway with his arms crossed over his chest. “We were thirteen, you just started to get tits, practically overnight. You lifted your first bra from Sears, but you got the wrong size. Guess you were already a B cup by then and you got an A. Your tits were just spilling out of the thing and I had this dream, recurring one for about a year, of you getting so frustrated with the thing that you just whipped it off right in the middle of the motel room of the week… and then you’d let me play with ‘em, suck ‘em, bite ‘em.”

You shook your head and covered your chest with your arms, too, trying to occlude his view of your breasts and give yourself a hug. You had a growing feeling of disgust weighing your stomach down. “You can’t… I’m your twin sister, Dean.”

“Oh, I know. That’s why I shoved that shit down in the dark recesses of my soul. Put it away with the sadistic part of me… but, you know, I am really surprised that I only got shitfaced and forced myself on you once. And I’m kinda disappointed I didn’t dick ya.”

You gagged a bit at his words. You wanted to respond with something, but there was nothing but revulsion in your throat. You felt like you might throw up. He wanted you? This whole time, your whole lives practically?

He smirked and pushed off from the wall. “I guess it ain’t too late, though, is it?”

You shook your head, cringing away from him. “No.”

He chuckled and leaned in closer. “Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal, y/n. You’re gonna come with me. There’s really nothing you can do against that. I’ve always been stronger and faster than you and there’s no way you can win now. I’m gonna fuck you. If you don’t cum, I’ll go back to the bunker with you and let Sam do whatever he wants to ‘fix’ me.” He did air quotes around the word. “When you do cum, though, you’re gonna be stuck with me.”

“What does that even mean?” you whispered.

“Means you come with me, you never talk to Sam again, and we do whatever the fuck I want for the rest of your life.” You closed your eyes, swallowed, and tried to keep your lunch in your stomach as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to his side. “Come on. Let’s get outta here.”

You tried to resist as he pulled you out the side door and into the parking lot, but he was too strong. He shoved you into the passenger side of the Impala and walked around to the driver’s side. You looked around at the mess in the car. You hadn’t seen it this messy since before it came into your brother’s possession. “Where are you taking me?” you asked, quietly, as Baby roared to life.

“Motel. Where else?”

You sighed, bringing your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly. “Is-is there any way I can talk you out of this?”

He laughed, loud enough to ring in your ears. “Not a goddamn thing, y/n/n.” He looked over at you and licked his lips. “You gonna beg me to let you go?”

You shook your head. “I don’t beg for demons,” you whispered.

He hummed, his lips twisted into a smirk again. “You will. You’re gonna beg this demon.” He wrapped his hand around your wrist and tugged you out the driver’s door as soon as the car was in park. You weren’t sure he’d even taken the keys out of the ignition.

“Tell me ‘bout that night I got drunk. Wish I could remember it. Go on and jog my memory. Where were we? Were we on a hunt?” he asked as he kicked the motel door closed behind him. You started to shake as he stepped in front of you and started to unbutton your red and pink flannel. “I asked you a question, y/n.”

“You asked two, actually,” you argued, quietly. “We were… we were in Puyallup, Washington. That poltergeist. Dad went to question the former owners in Bend, Oregon. He wasn’t gonna be back ‘til the next day and he had the Impala. There wasn’t a bar within walking distance-”

Dean nodded in recognition as he pulled your shirt down your arms and dropped it to the floor. “But I had a package store in my duffel bag. Turned on Tombstone and started drinking.”

“Weren’t very far into it before you were trashed. You were slumped in your chair before ‘That’s Latin, dahlin’, but you kept drinking.” You closed your eyes as he pulled your black undershirt off over your head.

“Keep going.”

“You kept looking at me. I was just sitting there, just sitting on the bed, reading Dreamcatcher and you kept looking at me. Eventually…” You took a deep breath and tried to stop shaking. “You came to sit next to me. You took the book out of my hands, threw it on the other bed and you pulled me into a hug. I thought it was nice, it was okay, it was just you showing affection in that way you only do when your inhibitions are lowered. You… you told me that everything was gonna be okay, that we had each other. You said even if we didn’t have Sam, even if we didn’t always have Dad’s support, even if we didn’t have Mom, we-we had each other.”

Your throat clenched around the next sentence, maybe because your memories were raging in your head, but maybe because Dean’s fingertips were sliding across the swell of your left breast where your anti-possession tattoo sat. “Not gonna tell you again, sis,” Dean said, threateningly.

“We laid down together. I d-don’t really… we laid down, you were holding me. Your h-hand slipped under my shirt, but it was nice. It was… your skin warm on my back. I was falling asleep. I was so close, I didn’t realize until it was too late that you’d slipped your other hand into my pajamas. I tried to push you off of me when your hand went into m-my underwear, but-”

“Always been bigger and stronger. I start fingering you then?”

You stiffened as he reached behind your back and unclasped your bra. Your arms moved to cover your chest as he pulled the straps down. You could lie. Let the story end, don’t tell him more than necessary, but what if he really did remember? What if all this had been the demon messing with your head?

“Um, no. You just, sorta, kept your hand there for a while, waited for me to drop my guard a little, I guess. You kissed my neck, told me you were gonna take care of me, that you loved me, that everything was going to be okay. Then you started kissing me.”

“You let me.” It wasn't a question.

“No. No, I just… didn't fight you,” you admitted.

“You liked it, y/n/n,” he said in that ‘Do not lie to me’ tone. “Someone being there for you, for your pleasure. Never had that before me, I made sure of it. So, we kissed, ‘cause ya kissed back, didn't ya? And then I started playing your pussy like a fine fuckin’ instrument, huh?”

You didn’t respond, but you didn’t have to. The shame on your face was more than enough answer. He nodded, moving around behind you and wrapping his arms loosely around you. If this weren’t a demonic version of you brother, if you weren’t bare-chested, it might have been a comforting hug, but instead it just made your body stiffen. “Don’t worry, y/n. I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Oh, god.” Bile rose up in your throat as he gently pushed you toward the bed. “I don’t wanna do this.”

“Shhh. Relax, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he whispered. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re lying,” you said as your knees touched the mattress.

“Not this time, I’m not. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m gonna make you feel amazing. When’s the last time you felt good, sis? When’s the last time you were happy?” He turned you and looked into your eyes, looking for all the world like the portrait of sincerity.

“Not since you were in Hell, before you scared off the love of my life.”

“Jesse wasn’t the love of your life. He didn’t love you how I did. He didn’t fight for you. I fought for you.”

“You’re not supposed to love me like that, Dean. It’s not right,” you whispered.

“So?” He sighed, softly, and moved his hand to caress your cheek. “Can’t change how I’ve always felt. You were all I had, for so long. The thing that held me together when I was holdin’ Sam up. I’ve always loved you more than I’ve ever loved any other woman.”

You scoffed, reminding yourself that this was just another layer of demon bullshit. “You’re a demon. You’re not loving me, now.”

“I’m still me, y/n. I still know how to treat my other half.” ‘Other half’ reminded you of your childhood, of Dean introducing you as his other half instead of his twin. You shivered as he leaned down, pressing his full lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, sweet. If you closed your eyes, maybe it would have been nice. If it wasn’t Dean… Tears popped up in your eyes as he pulled away from the kiss. “I’m gonna make you feel good. Lie down,” he whispered, nodding toward the bed.

You wanted to deny him, to resist in some way, but you didn’t. You climbed onto the mattress and laid your head on the pillow. He climbed in beside you, snaking his right arm under your neck and letting his left hand settle over your belly button. He looked down at you with a gaze of absolute adoration. “It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay, y/n,” he whispered. “I’m here for you.”

As he skimmed his lips over your neck, your eyes fluttered closed and you realized that he was trying to recreate that night in Washington. You’d told him exactly how to get to you, exactly what he’d done to get you, the sober twin, to yield to his sick desires. That’s why he was being so soft. “Th-this… this isn’t-”

“Shhh. It’s okay. Gonna make everything better,” he promised, swiping his tongue up the column of your throat. He let his hand slide under your waistband and you stiffened, again. He pressed his lips to your jaw, sucking lightly. It was ridiculously pathetic how quickly his soft kisses and caresses had you melting. The six years of celibacy had your body aching to respond. When he felt you relax, he propped himself up on his right forearm and pressed his lips to yours again. He pushed his tongue against your lips and you opened them, allowing his tongue entrance.

As your tongues pressed against each other, his hand moved to cup your mound, but you ignored it. You couldn’t focus on where his hand was when you were so focused on his lips and tongue, on the fact that you were kissing back and how ashamed you were going to be in the morning. His middle finger pressed against your slit and you moaned into his mouth. His right hand pulled back to bury in your hair, fingertips grasping at your scalp.

The wetness that seeped out of you, the pulsing throb of need that started up as he began to rub gentle circles on your clit, made your mind snap back to what he said at the strip club. If you could keep yourself from cumming, he’d come back to the bunker with you. You just had to focus.

He grabbed your left hand and placed it over the bulge in his jeans, curling your fingers over the hard lump of flesh and encouraging you to rub him. You did what he wanted, marveling at how big it seemed. Jesse wasn’t that big, you were sure of it.

Jesse. Focus on Jesse. Dean made Jesse leave you. Dean made Jesse leave you. Dean made Jesse… Jesse left you, not Dean… Dean was always there for you, even when you were too cold to care. Dean loved you, horribly and inappropriately, but he never wavered.

His middle finger pushed into your entrance, slipping through your wetness and making you whimper. Your fingers tightened around his hardness and he groaned, deep in his chest and you were proud to make him make that noise.

You were going to Hell, but, hey you were the only Winchester who hadn't been. It was your turn.

You told yourself, again, to focus, but you couldn't. You tried to think about the fact that this was Dean, that this was a demon, that this was everything you'd tried to distance yourself from and worse, but you couldn't. All you could think about was the way your body was singing, the way your brain couldn't focus, the way everything weighing on you finally felt like it was light enough to carry and the whole of that feeling rested in your twin brother's actions.

Dean pulled back from the kiss, just looking down at you as you panted, his long, thick finger dragging in and out of you. “How's it feel, y/n?”

“I… I can't…”

“It's okay. I'm not gonna have you cum on my fingers,” he whispered, pushing his first finger in beside his middle one and curling them against your inner walls. “When I claim you, sis, it's gonna be on my dick.”

“Oh, god!” you whined as he started scissoring his fingers to open you up.

“Unzip me, y/n. I wanna feel your fingers on me,” he instructed, still maneuvering his fingers in you.

You reached over, using both hands to pop the button on his jeans and pull the zipper down. He wasn’t wearing boxers so the little bit of shuffling you did to get his jeans down his hips exposed him to you.

He was big. You knew he was. There’s a lack of privacy in motels; even if you’re actively avoiding the knowledge, it seeps in. You knew he was big, but it was different to have the thick steel length in your hand. He hissed, bucking his hips, and you tightened your grip. You looked up at his face and immediately looked away again. His eyes had gone black. You forced yourself to look again.

Maybe that’s what you needed to combat the heat rising up in you, the tight coil trying to snap in your core. Maybe you needed to force yourself to face the demon to push yourself through this.

By the time you looked, though, the black had fled his eyes, leaving on his brilliant green eyes, dark with lust. Fuck, how had you lived for thirty-five years without realizing how gorgeous Dean eyes were?

He leaned in and pressed you into a fierce kiss as you started to stroke him in time with his fingers dragging in and out of you. When he pulled his hand from you and sat up, you instinctively tried to follow the kiss, but he moved quickly, pulling your pants and underwear down your legs as he got down off the bed.

“Ya know, I have spent so much of our lives watching you,” he started as he moved to start undressing himself. “And I know how sad you are. I mean, Famine said you were empty, too.” You bit your lip and ignored the pang of sadness at the reminder. “Shit’s always been so hard for us, but you used to find things to be happy about. Those books you used to read, that guitar you used to pull out every time we went to Bobby’s, the poetry in your journal…” He dropped his pants to the floor next to his shirts and stepped out of them before moving to kneel at the foot of the mattress.

“Know why you’re always sad, y/n?” he asked, covering your body with his and smirking down at you. “Why you’ve felt so empty?” He swiveled his hips, grinding his cock against your soaked slit. You bit your lip to hold back your moan. “Same reason I always did. You were missing your other half.” He made sure to catch your eyes as he slipped his hand down to line the head of his cock up and slide the first couple inches into you. “I’m gonna make you whole.”

His eyes filled in with black as he pressed the thick length of him in further. You squeezed your eyes closed, partly in pain from the stretch of your inner muscles, partly to shut out the vision of your demon brother. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He pulled back until just the head of his dick was in your hole before pressing in again. He got a little further that time, but still couldn’t get all the way in. “If I didn’t know Jesse got your cunt, I’d think you were a virgin. Knew it was the right decision to save you for me.” He scraped his teeth across your shoulder and you cried out. “If you don’t relax, this is gonna hurt.”

“Do you really care?” you whispered. You wanted him to say ‘no’. You wanted him to hurt you. If he did, maybe you could keep yourself from falling over the edge. Maybe then you could take him back to Lebanon, Sam could fix him, and you could spend the rest of your lives pretending none of this happened.

He kissed his way up your neck to your ear. “Of course, I care. I care more about you enjoying yourself right now than I care about anything else. I want you happy, y/n. I want us both whole.” You gasped as he took your earlobe in between his lips and sucked on it. “I can’t wait to feel you cum on my cock, to finally have you… all mine.”

“Dean… I…”

He rolled his hips, slipping further into you with a groan. “God, you are… exactly what I dreamed of. Fuck. Waited so long.” Your eyelids opened, but you still couldn’t see because your eyes were rolling back as his pelvis finally stopped flush with yours.

You were so full, stretched so far past any point you'd previously imagined, the burning pain of your inner muscles slowly ebbing as your body adjusted to the intrusion. Your hand buried in his hair, longer than normal and perfect for holding onto, as he bent his back just right and took your nipple in his mouth. “D., god!”

He hummed against your breast and reached over to run his thumb across the other nipple until it puckered up, plucking at it with his fingertips when it stiffened. He began to rock his hips against yours, miniscule movements sending shockwaves through your body that had you gasping. He bit into your nipple and you clenched around his dick, making him buck into you. “You ready for more?” he asked, running his tongue along the teeth marks to soothe the skin.

You brought your knees up to notch at his hips in answer. You closed your eyes and tried to breathe. It was sick. It was wrong. It was disgusting, but you couldn’t really care, anymore. You felt better than you had in years. You felt right. You felt whole.

He leaned up on his forearms and looked down at you. “It’s okay. I got you.” He slid his cock out until just the head was inside of you before thrusting forward again. It was perfect, how he felt inside you, how his lips slotted against yours, how his tongue tasted. He grabbed your thigh, digging his fingers into your flesh and thrusting into you a bit harder, making you grab at his shoulders and throw your head back into the pillow.

“God, Dean, this is…. Oh, god this is…”

“Not God, y/n,” he whispered into your ear.

You could feel your orgasm rising. Your abs were tightening, your heels digging into his ass, your toes curling as you met his thrusts. You were getting so close. You wanted it so badly… but you knew that as soon as you came it’d be over. Your only saving grace was the lack of attention he was paying your clit. You had never managed an orgasm without clitoral stimulation.

Leave it to Dean to be the first to pull it out of you. He pushed your knees up toward your chest, the angle changed, and his cock slammed your cervix. Your eyes rolled back, back arching, a low, harsh moan pulling from your throat as your muscles went rigid and your thighs tried to close against the sensation. Your whole body jerked and jolted as he slowed down and fucked you through your orgasm. He kissed his way across your shoulder and up your neck to your ear. “I win,” he whispered and you whimpered. He leaned on his forearms again, smiling down at you with black eyes. “I got you to play and I won, and now? You’re mine.”

You were flipped over, face in the pillow and ass in the air, before you could register movement. His hand wrapped in your hair and he slammed back into you. You screamed, but he just pressed your face harder into the pillow to muffle the sound. His hips snapped against your ass hard, his cock impacting your cervix like he was trying to punch through to your womb, his fingers bruising your hip and tearing at your hair. “You’re gonna cum again, y/n. I wanna feel it from this angle,” he demanded, not slowing his pace, reaching the hand from your hip around your body to rub at your clit.

Your walls fluttering around his cock sent him over his own precipice and he growled, a rumbling dark sound like a demon makes when you splash it with holy water, as his cock splashed spurts of cum across your pussy walls. He pulled out and flopped to the bed next to you as you went limp, only able to turn your head so that you could breathe. Dean chuckled and reached over to slap his palm across the swell of your ass. “Yeah. This is gonna work out just fine.”

You were too exhausted respond, closing your eyes and letting sleep take you.

You woke to the sound of voices. Dean and Crowley, speaking in low tones, likely in the doorway of the motel. “What do you want?”

“Well, I was coming with the option of another job, something that might quell a bit of the dark energy from the Mark, but it seems you've got some other outlet of depravity, don't you? That is your twin sister fucked to bits on your bed, isn't it?”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah. I've wanted to break off a piece of that since we were teens. Just couldn't let myself do anything about it back then.”

“And was she a willing participant in this sickness?”

“Eventually. Why the fuck do you care?”

“Just was thinking that it might be a bit awkward for her to go home after she-”

“That's fine ‘cause neither of us are going home, Crowley. I finally made her mine last night, finally took what was fuckin’ made for me. Might get some vamp to turn her so I can keep her around for longer. We've got a lot of years to make up for.”

Crowley made a huffy noise. “Maybe don't turn your sister into a bloodsucker yet. There are other options, like witchcraft, that wouldn't leave her so vulnerable.”

“Yeah, why don't you leave y/n to me and go play with your dogs? I'll find you when I need you, which’ll be never.” There was a moment of silence and you could feel Dean’s eyes on you. “She's awake. Get out.”

“Dean, you-”

“Out.” You chanced a look at the door as Crowley disappeared and Dean slammed it shut. He smirked as he turned to you, pulling your phone out of his back pocket. “Good morning. Sam's been calling you for hours. Took the liberty of turnin’ off your GPS.”

You swallowed, taking a deep breath. “You're really not going to let me leave?” you whispered.

“I told you. You're stuck with me. Besides… it's where you belong. It's the only place you can be whole.”

You shook your head and ran your hand down your face. “Don't think I didn't hear that, Dean. You don't care about me feeling whole. I'm just something else to feed the Mark.”

He shrugged, his eyebrows jumping with amusement. “Wouldn't you rather I feed the Mark with amazing sex than vicious murder?” You looked down. Not a sacrifice you ever thought you’d have to make, but… wasn’t it better than him killing people to satiate the damn Mark?

He presented the phone to you. “Two minutes, no codes, just tell Sam to leave you alone. You need time. Got it?”

You nodded, taking the phone and unlocking it. You dialed Sam and waited. “Where are you?! I’ve been calling you for-”

“Hours, I know,” you interrupted. You needed to keep it under two minutes, so you couldn’t have him jabbering on. “Look, I just need some time, Sammy. I… I think it’s my turn, okay? I need a damn break. I can’t deal with this bullshit-”

“I need you to help me find Dean, y/n. I need your-”

“No, you don’t. You need to let him go… and you need to let me have this time, okay? I just need-”

“Look, I just talked to… you’re not gonna believe this, but… Crowley, and if I give him the First Blade after, he’s ready to sell Dean out. I’m headed to the bar Crowley says he’s gonna be at. I could use your support.”

You rubbed your eyes with your fingertips. “Sam… Call me if you figure out where he is.”

“What? I just told you-”

“Yeah. I wish you the best of luck, little brother.” You hung up the phone and offered it to Dean. “You got any liquor in this place? I need a fuckin’ drink.”

Dean smirked and nodded. “Yeah. That sounds like a good fuckin’ idea. Get dressed. There’s a bar down the street, Flamingo Lounge. Harv behind the bar pours pretty heavy, so it’s good.”

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

Sam had been surprised to see you with Dean at the piano, tipsily tinkling out the beginning of ‘Hey, Jude’ on the keys. He’d been further surprised that you didn’t deny it when Dean insinuated that his cum was on the inside of your black cotton panties. You didn’t say a word. When Sam finally got the cuffs on Dean, after he’d wrestled him into the back of the Impala, Sam fully turned his attentions to you.

“What the hell, y/n?”

“Take him home and fix him,” you said, handing the car keys to Sam’s good hand.

“What he said about killing him? I don’t know what he’s done? He might deserve it?”

You shook your head. “He didn’t…” You licked your lips and faked a smile. “He was just talking about what he did for Crowley. Take him home.”

“What about you? I-I might need-”

“No. That ‘time’ I said I need? I need it. I…” You wrapped an arm around his left side, giving him a slight hug and patting his back. “Good luck, Sammy.”

“Good-? How much time do you need?”

“Goodbye, Sammy,” you whispered, walking away. Your eyes flicked to Dean, seething in the backseat, as you passed the car. His eyes narrowed, his lips pressing together in a thin line. His jaw clenched. You swallowed, looking away and breaking into a jog.

You’d assess the damage later. For now, you just needed to get away.

REPULSION TAGS @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @pink1031 @bobasheebaby @thekatherinewinchester @yagurlrosie

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys @allykat2108 @mogaruke @flamencodiva @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 @pisces-cutie @paintballkid711 @natura1phenomenon @rainbowkisses31 @atc74 @alagalaska @bamby0304 @ilovefanfic86 @sculptorofbeginnings

HUNTER TAGS @letsby @mrswhozeewhatsis @adoptdontshoppets @spnskinnyballs @deansenwackles @gayspacenerd @thewhiterabbit42 @dolphincliffs @sandlee44

GAGA FOR GREEN EYES TAGS @akshi8278

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Stark’s New Intern Chp. 5

Summary: Giselle helps Erik help Maria. And then some...

C.W. : Mature Content. NSFW. As always.

"If at first you don't succeed Dust yourself off, and try again You can dust it off and try again, try again Cause if at first you don't succeed Dust yourself off, and try again You can dust it off and try again, dust yourself off and try again, try again

I'm into you, you into me? But I can't let it go, so easily. Not 'till I see, where this could be, could be eternally, or just week. You know our chemistry, it's off the chain. It's perfect now, but will it change? This ain't a yes, this ain't a no. Just do your thang, and we'll see how it goes…"

Aaliyah - "Try Again"

"I'm soooo sorry!" Maria wailed as Giselle held back her hair as she continued to wretch into the bathroom toilet once they were secure in their shared domain. Eventually, Giselle was able to get Maria cleaned up and into her own room.

Erik made an anonymous phone call to the complex manager to let them know there were chunks floating in the jacuzzi and that the entire area needed to be drained and disinfected. He showered and brushed his teeth in the bathroom and threw their swimsuits into the apartment washer to be cleaned. He scrubbed the toilet and sink with Lysol. Twice.

"Erik was just trying to help me not be a virgin, and then I just threw up—"

"That's not what was happening," Erik stressed to Giselle when he went back to check on them. Maria's head was bent over a wastebasket on the side of her bed. She held a small clear trash bag in her hand. There were several laid out next to her on the bed.

"I wanted to kiss Holden, but I've never kissed anyone before, and Erik was showing me how to not be nervous about kissing, and then I…bwwerppp—"

Erik had to leave Maria's bedroom once her vomiting came back full force. After an hour passed, Maria was well enough to brush her teeth again and throw away all the trash bags she had used. Erik sat in the living room wondering what Giselle was thinking.

"I put her to bed with several more trash bags near her head in case she can't reach the bathroom. You might want to check on her to make sure she doesn't vomit in her sleep. You look a hot mess too," Giselle said.

"I wasn't trying to be her first. All I did was give her a peck on the lips to help her—"

Giselle held up a hand.

"I got the entire story."

Erik let out a heavy sigh of relief. Giselle plopped down next to him on the couch.

"What a night," she said.

"Tell me about it."

"Did you really have to punch Wesley?"

Erik's face turned hard.

"He came at me wrong."

"He only did that to get a rise out of you and you fell right into his trap. You have to act a lot more mature if you're going to do well here, Erik."

His age.

That's what was turning her off from him. And damn if he didn't act like a young knucklehead in front of her by knocking the shit out of Wesley. Right out of his chanclas. The giggle fits started again and he couldn't help himself.

"What is so funny?"

Her expression was so perplexed that he knew he had no chance with her. And that made him laugh more.

"I knocked that nigga straight outta his flip flops!"

They could hear Maria from her bedroom laughing loudly with him again.

"Both of you need to sleep this off," Giselle said standing up and heading for the front door.

Erik grabbed his cell and stuffed it in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Hold up, I'll walk you back to your apartment," he said stepping into his slides once more.

"I made it over here on my own. I can make it back by myself."

"I'm coming with you anyway," he said.

She didn't speak to him as he walked with her. The cool air cleared his head and he resigned himself to being a non-entity with Giselle. She wasn't vibing with him at all and it was just as well since she thought he was immature. And probably horny too after catching him kiss Maria.

Giselle's apartment was far away from his own and that was just another sign.

"Why did you come back over?" he asked.

His question caught her off guard. They stood in front of her apartment door. She lived in a first- floor unit. Her eyes avoided his face.

"You're not going to answer my question?"

Giselle finally looked him in the eye.

"I just came back to see if you were okay. You and Maria were drinking a lot, and still in the jacuzzi when everyone left."

"You were worried about me."

Erik smiled and moved a little closer to her, trying to get his flirt on. She stepped back from him.

"It's not a good look to be the sloppy drunk at a mixer."

"We weren't the only ones—"

"But you're not white. You stand out. Everyone is already watching your every move because of what Mr. Stark said at the first orientation. Be smart about your shit, Erik."

"Maybe I should hang around people like Roland," he said with a bit of sarcasm tinged in his voice.

"Maybe you should."

"I was trying to hang with you but you kept ignoring me."

"I wasn't ignoring you—"

"Yes, you were. Every time I walked over to you, you left me hanging like I had the plague. I thought we were cool—"

"We are cool—"

"Nah, you weren't feeling me at all. You even left with Roland."

"I went to make sure Wesley was okay and that you wouldn't get into any trouble. You could've really hurt him, Erik. Killed him—"

"I swear y'all act more worried about these assholes—"

Erik tried to catch himself before he really went off. He could feel his quick anger rising in his chest.

"Then don't act like an ass yourself—"

"Oh…so I'm the ass for checking a lil bitch coming at me for no reason? Fuck outta here—"

"Why do you get worked up so fast? Chill, nigga," she said.

"I'm not getting worked up!" he shouted, irritated that she was talking to him like he was some random hood boy.

"I know you not tryna get loud with me because we can go there!"

Erik's neck tilted to the side. The Baltimore was coming out of her when she clapped her hands at him like she was ready to throw down. That cultivated and polite intern she displayed earlier had switched up real quick. He liked this version of Giselle. This one right here was making his dick chub up. There was something about a woman who didn't back down from him that got him excited fast.

"Let's go there then!"

He came at her full-throated and took up all the space between them, nudging her back against her apartment door.

"You wanna be a mouthy bitch, then be about it!" he demanded.

His eyes narrowed and he felt his nostrils flare. His dick was hard as granite and pressing deep into his jeans, aiming right at her. His hormones were all over the place just being next to her. She breathed heavily aware that she couldn't move past him with her body blocked by his. He was taller too, and his face was right down next to hers. He was ready to fuck or fight this woman.

"All I wanted to do was talk to you all night," he whispered to her.

She didn't push him away when he let his body brush against hers. His erection touched her hip and her eyes dropped down to look at the hard bulge in his pants. She closed her eyes and let her head tilt back until it was touching the door.

"I'm not here for this, Erik."

"I think you came back to see me for this. But then you saw me kiss Maria. Tell me I'm right about that. That's why you left. You thought I was hooking up with her and got mad."

Giselle's eyes looked away from his once more and he smiled.

"Running around in that bikini knowing I was watching you. You were tryin' to get my dick hard for you. Admit it."

"A lot of people were wearing bikinis, Erik. I wasn't wearing it to show off just for you. Be serious."

She still wouldn't look at him, but he felt her hip grinding against his stiffness.

"We can handle this right now," he said allowing his hands to drop down and grip her waist.

Her mouth parted slightly and he could only think about kissing those lips that he had been pining away for all week. Every time she spoke to him about the most mundane things at the Stark offices, he could only daydream about being alone with her. She had no idea how badly he wanted to hold her…touch her all over…let his lips drift over hers and down her body. It was torture for him to watch her stick to Roland's side, her soft skin pressed next to the dull flesh of a man unworthy of her brains and beauty. It irked the shit out of him that she wouldn't even sit next to him in the jacuzzi for a few minutes but was willing to swim with Roland for over an hour. But here she was now, almost panting with him so close to her. He could see she was mentally fighting her attraction to him, doing her best to keep from looking at his eyes directly. His unfiltered desire was reflected there.

"Take me to your room," he urged, letting his head dip down to her neck. He kissed her there, his soft lips lingering, waiting for her to consent to whatever she would allow him to do for her. He would eat her pussy, suck her toes, lick her ass cheeks…whatever she wanted he was down for. Maybe she would let him pull her braids while he hit it hard and deep from the back…

"Let's just keep our relationship professional," she finally whispered back to him.

He closed his eyes with disappointment. His Baltimore babe was curving him. He was going to have to walk back to his apartment with a nine-inch boner cutting into the denim of his pants.

"Fuck," he said. He didn't mean to say it out loud in front of her, but he was upset. She had him worked up and would have him worked up all summer more than likely. Maybe she was saving herself for that boring white boy Roland.

"You should go back and look in on Maria."

You should play with my dick.

He wanted to say that to her. He wasn't above begging at that point. He dreaded walking back carrying all that hard weight between his legs.

"Can I use your restroom at least?" he asked.

Her eyes looked suspicious of his motives.

"Lemme take a piss and get this shit down. You want me walking in on Maria like this?"

Giselle laughed and opened her apartment door. The layout was the same as his and he went straight to the bathroom.

He lifted up the toilet seat and gripped his shit, aiming it for the center. His nutsack was tight, and urinating wasn't helping to relieve his problem. He had to step back and tilt his hips and penis to keep from peeing on the seat and the floor. Taking a piss was always tough with a hard-on and he had difficulty voiding his bladder with his urethra pinched tight from all the blood engorged down there.

Flushing the toilet, he scrubbed his hands clean with her scented mango liquid soap.

"Who are you roommates with?" he called out when he heard her in the living room.

"I don't have one yet," she said.

"Yet? How did that happen?"

"My roommate is coming later next week. Late arrival to the internship."

"Lucky," he muttered.

He adjusted his dick, but his erection wouldn't go away.

"You okay in there?" she called to him.

"Give me a minute…damn. You got my shit standing at attention. It doesn't just go away like that."

He was annoyed with her now. He heard her turn on the tv. Waiting patiently for his penis to relax, he tried thinking of things that would deflate the problem. All his thoughts were of Giselle's warm frame against his.

He was going to have to work it out the only way he knew how.

He unfastened his jeans and let them fall to his knees. Pulling down his boxer briefs he released his erection and watched the turgid deep brown flesh bob in front of the bathroom sink. Three small pearls of pre-cum seeped from his slit and he used his fingers to slide it around his tip until it glistened with more that dripped out of him.

His left hand held onto the sink as his right hand gripped the underside of his fat mushroom cap. Veins were already swelling on the top and underside of his rigid manhood. The tension of the night needed an immediate release. And if he had to nut in Giselle's sink to reach equilibrium, that's what the fuck he was going to do.

He started pumping his fist, pissed that he was rutting into his own hand instead of Giselle's. He hadn't had pussy since he left D.C. He thought for sure he would get some after visiting his Grandpop in Oakland before flying down to Los Angeles, but that trip had been filled with visits to extended family and friends and he had no time to roam his old stomping grounds. Even his favorite babe Sauda, who he had been fucking in the East Bay since he was sixteen, was out of town. He needed to get his dick wet, or sucked, or jerked off. And he wanted Giselle to do it.

The spank bank in his mind thought of her in that red crochet bikini, small titties sitting high, slender hips unable to hide the mini donk she slung on that back. She had a deceiving figure, lean and athletic looking from the front, but the moment she turned around…all bets were off. Visions of her sliding in and out of the heated pool flitted through his brain. Water rolling off of her skin made her glisten like the perfect wet dream. He could see himself untying that bikini top, freeing her breasts for his tongue and pliant lips. He could also see himself wrapping those strong legs of hers around his hips while he fucked her in the water, yanking on those dark ropes of hair that dripped down her back. He would serve her that good dick, let that B-more pussy get stretched out wide by some Oaktown pipe.

"Oh…shit…" he mumbled, curling his lips to try and keep noise to a minimum. He touched the base of his dick and could feel the pulse of his entire body rooted down there. His fingers slid back up and circled his frenulum, twisting the sensitive flesh until he could feel his toes bunching up in his slides.

"Are you okay-?"

Giselle stepped into the bathroom and watched him beat off over her sink. The lustful heat in his eyes sought out relief in hers. He was turned on, even more, staring at her in the mirror as he worked his thick shaft.

"Got me in here doing this," he hissed at her, no shame in his stroke game as he fisted himself harder, his dick swelling between his slick fingers. A long clear string of pre-cum oozed down onto her sink and he groaned.

Giselle rested her chin on his shoulder and watched his face as his jaw went lax. Her left hand snaked around his waist and lifted up his t-shirt so she could see the muscles in his chest and abs. Her thumb and index finger pulled his nipple and his breath hitched. Her right hand reached around and gripped his dick for him. He released it and let her jerk him off.

"Fuck…Erik…you're so thick…so hot to the touch," she gasped.

Her fingers and palm squeezed and twisted his dick, molding themselves around him like they were supposed to be there all the time. He squeezed his balls and her eyes stared down at the heft he held there for her. She pressed her midsection into him and he reached back to hold onto her ass.

"You gon' make me bust," he huffed, "go a little faster, baby…yeah…faster…make me cum girl."

She pinched his nipple hard and they both watched his dick shoot out thick streams of semen all over her sink.

"Keep going…I got more…I got more!"

She fisted him harder and his thick ejaculate fell in loud plops onto the lip of the sink.

"Erik…"

"Fuck!" he yelled when a final spurt shot out and coated a glass cup that held a brand-new toothbrush.

Giselle's hand was drenched with his cum. She squeezed her arms around his waist not even caring about the mess he had made all over her bathroom. There was even semen on the floor.

Erik took a deep shuddery breath and then ran water in the sink to clean his hands. Giselle handed him a clean washcloth and helped him clean up her bathroom. When things were back in order and pristine once more, she finally looked him in the eye. He could tell she was turned on by him. What he wouldn't give to slip his fingers into her panties and pluck at the bud that had to be tingling between her thighs. He wanted to drop to his knees and pull down her shorts. Plant his face and tongue in her folds.

"I thought maybe you had gotten sick," she said.

"Sure you did," he said with a smirk on his face.

"Seriously, I did—"

"So that was keeping our relationship professional?"

"I still want that."

"You can have that, and a little bit more," he said. He stepped in to kiss her and she closed the distance, her lips crashing into his. His age meant nothing to her now because she eagerly suckled his tongue. He dropped the fingers of his right hand down to brush across her mound hidden behind her thin polyester shorts. She was warm down there, the heat from between her legs causing his dick to jump again. He pressed his fingers into the material knowing he was hitting her clit with the gentle circles he gave her there.

"You real wet right now, huh?" he asked.

Her glassy-eyed stare told him she was dripping. He was going to enjoy teasing her until she was begging for his dick. The way she was squirming on his hand, he knew it wouldn't take long. He pushed into her clit harder making his circular motions more intense. She was moaning and widening her thighs for him. He was ready to play all in her pussy but he felt his cell vibrate in his pocket.

"Maria?" Giselle asked as she reached for his chest.

"Shit," he muttered as he looked at the screen. He brushed her hands away. Walking out of her bathroom he answered his phone.

"It has become apparent that you need adult supervision, Stevens."

Giselle could hear Tony's aggravated voice from his phone.

"I just got a call from Congressman Bretts in Washington, in the middle of the goddamn night yelling at me that his son was assaulted under my watch. Are you really trying to sabotage your career before you even have one?"

"That was all on him—"

"I want to see you in my office first thing in the morning. Eight sharp. We need to discuss if you can handle being here…or not."

The call ended abruptly.

Giselle heard every single word.

"Blowback," Erik whispered to her.

He left Giselle's apartment ready to pack up and head back to Oakland.

Fuck Wesley.

Fuck his daddy too.

And fuck Stark Industries.

###

[Part 1]  [Part 2]  [Part 3]  [Part 4]  [Part 5]  [Part 6]

Tag List:

@fonville-designs​ @soufcakmistress  @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon  @thadelightfulone @allhailqueennel @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky @raysunshine78 @the-illllest @terrablaze514  @l-auteuse @amirra88 @jimizwidow @janelledarling @chaneajoyyy @sweetestdream92 @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @hennessystevens-udaku @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @bugngiz @stariamrry  @honeytoffee