#if she came up to me in a dark alley i’d piss my pants

[jewishicequeen]

Just a little girl☠️🌬️❄️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Like Mother, Like Daughter

Warnings: noncon/rape, mentions of prostitution, bullying/humiliation, coercion.

This is dark!Lee Bodecker and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You bail your mother out but you still owe the sheriff.

Based on these drabble requests:

Lee Bodecker + “I could crush your throat right now.” + Humiliation/bullying + y/n is the daughter of the town's hooker, but she is nothing like her mother, everyone is mean to her just because her mom's work . Lee have fun with her just bc for him she is the same trash as her mother. requested by anonymous.

You could still smell the alcohol on your mother. Her hair and clothes stank of it and the stale piss of the county jail cell. It made your eyes water, just like the glares of the townsfolk as you left the precinct.

They all knew, it was a small place, how could they not? They saw you almost every week bringing your ma out those doors, another twenty dollars to the station to set her free so she could do it all again. The same spite and disgust in their stares, the same judgment bearing down on you like a coyote on a barn cat.

“What happened to the grocery store?” you asked your ma quietly, “you said you wouldn’t do this no more. You don’t need to, ma. We got food, a roof--”

“Johnny Hatton gave me a whole bottle of whiskey,” she said, her voice still thick from the alcohol, “and for what, five minutes with my hand.”

“I don’t need to hear that,” you scowled and kept your head down as Gerry, the butcher, spat at your feet as you passed, “you want some drink, I can buy you drink, ma, but you shouldn’t be gettin’ so drunk, neither.”

“Gail fired me,” she grumbled and you kept her up before she could tumble, “found the bottle in my bag. Now I was gon’ pay for it before I left--”

You sighed and came to a stop at the corner as a car drove in front of you. You waited and watched the tail light. You took a step off the curb and nearly hit the side of the cruiser as it pulled up. The sheriff bent to meet your eye from the other end of the seat and you clung to your mother.

“Need a ride?” he asked.

“She just got out, sheriff, we’re just on our way home,” you said quietly. It was often Sheriff Bodecker who signed over your ma to you but that morning had been a cadet.

“Easier with some wheels under ya,” he said.

You sniffed and looked around. He was never overly friendly, the stern officer and his wide-brimmed hat put fear into most around, even when they hadn’t committed an offense. And like many in the town, he laughed at your ma and you, even asked you once or twice if you took after her.

“It’s not far,” you said, “but I appreciate the offer.”

“Nonsense,” his door swung open and he closed it heavily, “lemme help ya.” He came around and opened the back door, “you put her in here and take the front. She’s barely on her feet,” he took your mother’s other arm and angled her under the roof of the car, “whew, she smell like a sill.”

You held your tongue as your mother slumped across the leather and he shut the door. You stared at the side of the car and he touched your arm, “go on and get in, missy.”

You drew away from him and he pulled open the door. You ducked your head down and sat on the passengers side. He got in beside you and drove back out onto the street, easing into the sleepy small town traffic.

You were quiet; nervous. You didn’t know the sheriff to be a generous man, no one would ever say that of him. Your ma had sown a lot of discord in the town and you were no stranger to the bitterness that you inherited. Of all the people, Sheriff Bodecker should be most offended by her back alley antics.

“What’s a matter, missy?” he asked as he steered.

You shook your head and stared out the window. He stopped and tutted.

“Ya know, a lawman ask you a question and you should answer,” he warned, “now why you so quiet?”

“I don’t talk much, sir,” you shrugged.

“But you got a tongue,” he said, “and you fidgeting something awful over there.”

“I… just don’t know why you offer a ride,” you muttered, “ain’t no one round let my ma in their backseat, no even for a dime.”

“You looked like you needed help. I’m the sheriff, my job is to help,” he drove on and turned down your street.

“I suppose,” you said, “thank you.”

“See, now was that so hard?” he asked, “a thank you’s all I wanted.”

He pulled up in front of the ramshackle house you and your ma lived in. You got out without thinking and opened the back door. The other side opened and he grabbed your ma and dragged her out with his arms under hers. You tried to catch her ankle but he had her on her feet quickly, though she was swaying and half-unconscious.

“You show me where to put her,” he said as he kicked the door shut.

“I can take her,” you came around to him, “thank you, sheriff.”

“Nah, you go on and get the door, I can handle her a lot better than you, missy,” he said, “got a bit more brute in me.”

You held in a sigh and went around him. He turned and followed you up the slanted steps and you unlocked the front door. He lifted her feet and carried her over the threshold. You didn’t want him coming too far in so you backed up and watched him enter the front room.

“Just there on the sofa,” you pointed to the sagging cushions, “that’s fine.”

“Alright,” he crossed the room and put her down, he dusted off his hands on his pants as he stood straight. 

He looked around and removed his hat, his fingertips tapping on his pudgy stomach as he mused at the pale interior. He clicked his tongue and turned to you again.

“Well, I know your ma ain’t much of a housekeeper but it only polite to offer a guest something to drink,” he said, “something for my trouble.”

You put your purse on the chest of drawers by the door and crossed your arms. You teetered on the balls of your feet.

“I got milk or tea, sheriff,” you said, “tap water?”

“Tea,” he said, “I wouldn’t mind something to warm me up.”

You nodded and slipped past him. You went to the kitchen and moved the kettle onto the burner. You turned on the gas and heard his boots on the floor as he appeared in the doorframe. You looked up at him and carried on, searching for some leaves in the cupboard.

You sensed him getting closer and he came up behind you. His arms snaked under yours as you reached up and moved aside the cans and boxes. He cupped your tits and pushed you against the counter. You dropped your hands to his and tried to tear them away from your chest.

“What’re you doin’?” you gasped as you wrestled with him.

“I’d say you owe me,” he rocked you against the counter, “wouldn’t you?”

“Please, let go of me,” you begged, “I’m makin’ you tea--”

“I don’t want tea,” his hand crawled down and he yanked at your skirt, “like mother like daughter, huh? You know how to pay a man.”

“Stop,” you slapped his hand and he ignored you.

He spun your around and your head swam from the suddenness of it. He scooped you up easily and sat you on the counter as he pushed between your knees. He shoved your skirt up as you fought to keep the hem down. You kicked out around him as he reached for your knickers.

“Sheriff!” you cried out.

“You wan’ wake your ma?” he growled, “let her know she taught you well? If she can even be woke.”

He snickered and tore your underwear down your legs, moving back only to get them past your ankles. He slid quickly between your legs again and pulled your closer. He grabbed your jaw and squeezed as his other hand fumbled with his belt. You whined and writhed against him.

“Now, you stay still,” his hand went to his holster, “don’t make me do anything rash, missy. I could crush your throat right now.”

“Please, sheriff,” you grabbed his wrist as he held your chin.

“You already beggin’ me, missy,” he pushed his zipper down and stepped closer as he pulled himself out above his underwear, “now let’s not get too loud or you’ll be disturbin’ the neighbours.”

He poked against your cunt as he slid you closer and reached between you to line himself up. He pushed into you with a sharp thrust and you exclaimed. His grip tightened on your jaw as your lips parted and he covered your mouth with his.

He tilted his hips painfully against you, lifting you slightly off the counter as he did. He nibbled your lip as his hand wandered down to grope your chest again. His breath hitched as he fucked you and you were surrounded by his heat. You quivered as each crash of his pelvis hurt worse than the last.

“That’s it, missy,” he purred and bent your leg around him, “just like that. Move them hips, girl.”

[fandom-puff]

hi i have a request! imagine for tommy he picked you up at the bar so he doesn’t know you very well but you guys ~do the nasty~ and later he overhears from your one friend telling lizzie that you faked your orgasm and he hunts you down determined to make you cum for real

HI! thanks so much for this request- I adored writing it!

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: SMUTSMUTSMUTSMUT also swearing bc... peaky blinders?

It was the grand opening of the Shelbys’ new bar, and naturally, almost all of Small Heath was crammed into the main room. The whiskey and gin (from Shelby Company Limited, of course) was flowing, and the Swing Band was playing loudly, much to the joy of the inebriated men and women dancing. You hummed to yourself, touching up your lipstick before calling for another round for you and your girlfriends, Ada and Lizzie. “You want another drink, Linda? Maybe just stout?” you asked, getting your coin purse out. 

“Don’t bother yourself. I won’t succumb to that temptation. Just tonic water for me,” you rolled your eyes and soon received your drinks. “So you won’t touch gin, but you’ll happily play in the snow, eh?” Ada smirked, winking at you as she sipped her drink. You spluttered into your own. 

“Come on, ladies,” you said, sensing the tension growing between sisters-in-law. “Let’s dance before the band starts playing that American rubbish,” 

Together, you joined in with the dancing, giggling and cheering each other on. “C’mon Lizzie! Spin me around! I wanna be twirled,” you squealed, and the taller woman happily complied. You were new to the company, and she wanted to make you feel welcome before the boys scared you off. Soon you left the dancefloor, leaving the girls, to get another drink. You arrived at the bar, giggling and breathless, and ordered your favourite drink.

 “Miss YLN,” a low voice rumbled next to you as the bartender poured your drink. “I don’t believe we’ve properly met. Been keeping the books, eh? My brother John says you’ve very neat handwriting, and hardly cross any number out,” You nodded as your eyes met Thomas Shelby’s.

 “Oh… yes, Mr Shelby,” you murmured. “I try to make them neat so you lot don’t get muddled up,” you said. He nodded. The bartender put your drink in front of you and you reached for your purse. Tommy stopped you and gestured to the bartender that your drink ought to be on the house. 

He soon took you into the side room, kicking Finn and Isiah out. “My secretary, Lizzie, recommended you to me,” he said as you perched opposite him. He lit a cigarette, rubbing it along his lip before taking a drag. “And I’ve been trying to figure you out. Couldn’t find anything,”

“I didn’t grow up ‘round here. When my mum died I took her maiden name. Most of her lot were killed. The Somme, I think,”

“And your dad?” he asked, watching you as you drank.

 “The bastard died in France too, as far as I know. But I left home after Mum died. That was before the war,” 

An hour later, you were still talking, although the pair of you had drained a bottle of whiskey. You were giggly and warm when drunk, but Tommy only closed in more. This didn’t bother you in the slightest. You leaned forward and smirked. “So, Mr Shelby, do I meet your approval, eh?”You were so close to him, and your pupils were dilated with what could only be described as a mixture of inebriation and desire. 

“Yes. Yes, you do. C’mere,” he grunted, dragging you into his lap. He pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, his hand already running up your thigh. You groaned and wriggled, sucking his lip into your mouth, grinding your heat onto his tenting trousers. He growled, unbuckling his belt and shoving his trousers down, and tearing your knickers down. He stood up, bending you over the table, before rutting into you animalistically. You whimpered, crying out, pushing back into him. His thrusts soon became sloppy, and you reached to stroke your pulsing clit- but he grabbed your hand as soon as he saw you moving, pinning you down and shouting out his release. It was a good job the band had started playing a popular song, otherwise, the whole of Birmingham would have heard you. 

You panted, expecting him to carry on thrusting to bring you over the edge. Instead, you heard the sound of a belt buckle and the door slamming shut.

 The experience sobered you up slightly and you straightened your dress, fixing your lipstick and hair before slipping out of the side room. You bumped into Lizzie and told her you were going home, as you were working in the morning. She nodded and took in your dishevelled (despite your best efforts) appearance. “Get some rest,” she said knowingly, giving you a wink.

 The next day, you arrived at work despite your headache. You lit a lamp, as it was still a little dark out, and started on the books, flicking through the notes scribbled by various members of the Shelby clan. You worked in peace for ten minutes before Lizzie and Pol came into the room, chatting. 

“There she is. How’s your head?” Lizzie grinned, sliding you some aspirin. You smiled gratefully and took the tablets.

 “Holy shit,” Pol commented, staring at the bruise on your throat. You blushed deeply and tugged your collar closed. You hated wearing this blouse buttoned all the way up, but needs must. 

“Wild night, eh?” Lizzie asked, getting her own paperwork sorted as Pol went to fix tea. 

“Not really,” You sighed, looking down. You wanted to ground to swallow you whole. 

“Oh, piss off. You came out of that side room five minutes after Tommy, looking like you’d been dragged through a hedge backwards, and you show up to work with a dirty great love bite on your throat,” she grinned. “I’m not judging you, by the way. If anything I’m impressed. He’s been a right prick lately,” 

“And he was a right prick last night,” you hissed. “Moody bastard, and a lousy fuck as well. Didn’t even finish me off, I had to fake it in the end,” you glared down at your paperwork. Lizzie chuckled and rubbed your shoulder gently. Polly came back into the room with the cups and teapot, pouring for you all.

 “So who’s the man? Boyfriend we haven’t heard of?” She asked, smirking. 

“It was Tommy, Pol,” Lizzie explained. You kept your eyes down. “Apparently he’s a lousy fuck. Our poor YN was treated worse than the back alley whores by the sounds of it,” 

Prolly frowned and set your tea in front of you. “Wouldn’t think a lousy fuck would leave that mark,” she said slyly. “Use a cold spoon and some powder when you get home,” she advised. 

“And then tonight, go dancing and get a man who’ll treat you right, eh?” Said Lizzie. “You deserve better than someone rutting against you like a dog,”

The two women had cheered you up significantly and you smiled weakly until Arthur’s loud voice cut across your conversation.

 “Rutting like a dog? Was that what you and Tommy were up to last night?” He grinned, having overheard,  and you flushed angrily. 

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed, YN, you are a pretty little thing-” he said, his smile dropping when he saw that his banter wasn’t making you laugh like normal.

 “No. I’m not embarrassed. If anything, I’d be embarrassed for your brother. Who would’ve thought Thomas Shelby didn’t know his way around a woman, let alone how to properly please her!” You turned around. “Pol, I’m going home. My head is banging and I need to concentrate on these books. Arthur’s done all the adding up wrong. Dock my pay if need be,” You took the heavy leather-bound book and tucked it under your arm, before storming out of the betting shop, right past Tommy without even noticing. 

The peace of your home was what you needed. You brewed yourself a pot of tea with the nice teabags you had picked up from the market, and settled yourself at your rickety old desk, going through the books and copying them up neatly, and more importantly, precisely. You even hummed to yourself, soon letting the stress of the previous night slowly fade away. 

That was until there was a sharp knock on your door. You sighed, getting up. There was another knock. “Alright! I’m coming. Rent’s not due for another week, though!” You called, going to take the door off the latch. 

There in the doorway, in all his glory, was your boss. His cap was drawn over his face and he blew out a breath of smoke. “YN. Can I come in?”

 You wanted nothing more than to slam the door in his face and lock it, put the chain on and drown him out with your rusty gramophone.  But-

“Fine. But put that cigarette out before you step over my threshold. The last tenant was a bad smoker and I’ve only just got the smell out of the cushions,” when the door shut, you turned around, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Mr Shelby?” 

“Mr Shelby, is it now?” He asked, smirking. “That’s no way to greet a guest, is it. Are you going to offer me a drink?”

 “No, I’m not. You don’t take me as one for cold tea with no milk,” you quipped. “What do you want?”

 He arched his brow, looking you up and down as if you were a fresh cut from the butcher. You stood a little straighter, determined not to look small. “What I want, YN, is to know what your little fuss was about earlier on,” he said lowly. 

You scoffed. “Oh please. You know exactly what it was about, and even if you didn’t, I’m sure the boys would’ve informed you,” you said coldly. “If you must know, I was pissed. Still am. Because I let you… have me. And I’m pissed because you treated me like a common whore, and I’m pissed because everyone knows and will think less of me,” you said, flushing, brow furrowed. 

“And what’s all this about being a lousy fuck, eh?” He asked, face like stone. 

“Oh you heard that part well enough, didn’t you?” You suppressed an annoyed laugh. “It’s true. You are a lousy fuck. D’you bend all your women over and hump them like a dog in heat or am I just special?” 

“YN…,” he said, voice low, standing up and walking to you.

 “You know, I’ve had better shags when I was a teenager. At least the lads I used to go out with had the decency to finish me off once their balls were empty!” You ranted, unaware of him stalking closer and closer, like a panther on the prowl. 

He pushed you against the wall, arms braced either side of your head. You gulped. Had you pushed him too far? You looked up at him through your lashes, and couldn’t help but lick your lips, your breath already becoming shallow. “Finish you off, eh? Is that what you want?” He asked lowly, leaning to growl in your ear, sending a shiver that crawled all over your skin and made your eyelashes flutter. 

You bit your lip and nodded. “Y-yes…” you whispered.

 “Yes, what?” 

“Yes please, Mr Shelby,”

 That was all he needed. He gripped your hips and pulled them tight against his, kissing you ferociously, his hands gripping, squeezing, stroking every inch of you he could reach. You moaned against his mouth and scrabbled at his heavy coat and jacket, pushing them to the floor. You began fumbling with his belt when he grabbed your wrists, holding the, above your head.

 “Ah Ah Ah,” he said roughly. “I intend to make up for last night. And believe me, YN, I’m feeling particularly generous tonight,” He hoisted you up by the thighs and held you against him, carrying you to your bedroom and kicking the door shut. He deposited you onto the bed, before looking down at you. “Dress. Off.” He demanded, and you all too eagerly complied, much to his satisfaction, casting it aside, quickly followed by your slip, leaving you in your knickers and bra. He chuckled darkly at your eagerness, and when you went to undo your garter and stockings, he halted your hands, shaking his head. You nodded obediently and watched as he kneeled down in front of you. You pressed your knees together, but he tutted and caressed your legs, from ankle to thigh. 

“Don’t be shy, YN,” he murmured.

 “No one’s ever…” you whispered, shifting your thighs together. He cocked his brow up and smirked. 

“No one’s ever what, pet?” He asked, pushing your thighs apart and making quick work of your stockings. “Tasted you? Not even all those boys who knew how to please you, eh?” 

You nodded and bit your lip, gasping at the new sensation of his hot breath skittering across your core as he pressed filthy, open-mouthed kisses against your heat. He nipped the inside of your thighs to get you to spread them further and inhale your musk, shuddering at the scent of your arousal.

 “You won’t even remember your own fucking name once I’m through with you, love,” he promised, stroking his finger lazily up the seam of your underwear, pressing it against your clit. You clenched your fists into the sheets, thighs already trembling. This did not go unnoticed, and Tommy chuckled darkly at your desperation. “So responsive,” he murmured, dragging your underwear down torturously slowly, before burying his face between your legs. You whimpered as you felt his tongue running up your slit, gathering your arousal before he swallowed with a groan, gripping your thighs tightly and holding them apart. He traced your sopping folds with the very point of his tongue, his nose occasionally bumping your swollen clit, but giving it nowhere near enough attention for your liking. 

“Tommy please!” You whimpered after at least ten minutes of him scrubbing the flat of his tongue against your heat, nipping at your thighs, and even pushing his tongue into you. He pulled away and looked up at you with raised eyebrows, your slick glistening obscenely on his chin.

 “Please, what, YN? Use your words,” he demanded.

 “Please, touch me!” You cried, shifting your hips, trying to get some friction to your needy clit.  

“Touch you where YN? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” he said smirking cockily, pinning your hips down to still you.

 “On my… my… here!” You whimpered, reaching a hand down to flick at your throbbing nub. “Please, Tommy, please!” 

He growled and knocked your hand away, instantly attaching his lips to it, sucking like a man starved and flicking his tongue under the hood. You cried out and tipped your head back, gripping whatever handful of hair you could, swearing like a sailor. “Oi. Watch. Eyes on me.” He commanded, although slightly muffled by your writhing hips. You whined softly but nodded, focusing on watching the gorgeous man devouring you. Your eyes fluttered when you felt a familiar tension building up in the pit of your belly, your clit beginning to throb against his tongue. Your breath came in sharp gasps, and you bucked your hips up, desperate to tip over the edge, so close already-

Then… nothing.

 You groaned, glaring down at the man before you, who still held all the power despite being on his knees. You whined trying to grab him back. “What the fuck? Please, I was so close!” You said, intending to sound angry, but actually sounding needy and desperate. He grinned. 

“I know,” Bastard. He repeated this routine several times, bringing you right up to the edge, but dragging you away at the last moment, until you were practically sobbing with need. When he had taken his fill of your nectar, he worshipped your breasts, sucking and nipping and kissing and lathing his tongue over your nipples until you were writhing, arching your back, convinced you would cum from this stimulation alone. 

“Please, Tommy!” You whined, fingers tangled in his cropped hair as he sucked a dark mark on your breast. “Please, Tommy, you’ve proved your point, please!” You sounded pathetic, begging like a whore, but to be quite frank, you could give a bigger fuck if you tried. “Just… please, Tommy, I need you. Need to feel you,” you whispered, stroking his jaw as he resurfaced, his piercing eyes trained on yours. “Need you to fill me up, claim me… I’m yours, Tom. Don’t you want to feel me cumming all over your cock?” 

Your words were meant to rile Tommy up, but they made you shift and whimper and buck despite yourself. “Good girl,” he whispered. “I’m very impressed with you. I’m going to fuck you, YN, and I’m going to do it properly,” You nodded eagerly and watched with glazed eyes as he discarded his waistcoat, shirt and trousers. You licked your lips as he dropped his underwear, groaning at the sight of his long, thick cock bouncing free, already leaking.

 All for you. 

You whimpered as Tommy crawled up the mattress towards you, already spreading your legs for him. “Please,” you whispered, reaching for him. He nodded, slowly pushing himself into you, bracing his elbows either side of your head. You cried out at the stretch of him, arching your back to press into his warm chest. Already, you were digging your nails into his back, and he grunted at the feeling of your walls clenching onto him for dear life.

 “Fucking hell,” he groaned into your neck, drawing back almost completely, before driving back into you with slow, measured movements, his forehead pressed to yours as he fucked you slowly, yet each thrust was ended with a sharp snap of his hips. You whined out, throbbing around him, trying to meet his thrusts with faster, needier ones of your own.

 “More, Tommy, more!” you cried out, scrabbling your nails down his back, clinging to his shoulder blades. You raised your legs to wrap them around his waist, angling your hips up more, eyes rolling at the deeper penetration gained by the new angle. “Please, faster,” you begged, writhing eagerly beneath him. “Please?” you whimpered, practically sobbing with need. 

Tommy grunted and nodded, holding you tight to him as he fucked you harder, faster, more relentlessly, growling into your ear, before suckling dark marks down your throat and to your collarbone. Moaning, he pistoned his hips into you, each thrust bumping delicious pressure onto your aching clit. It was too much. 

You moaned wantonly, arching your back and biting his shoulder. “Fuck Tommy, I’m gonna cum,” you whined, clinging to him, not wanting him to pull away before your release again.

 “Good girl,” he groaned. “Cum around my cock, love, that’s what you want. That’s what I want,” he grunted, his thrusts sloppy and harsh. With his permission, you yelped out, crying his name as you came, seeing white spots, even when you clenched your eyes shut. Feeling you clench around him like a vice, he shouted his release, spurting into you, filling you with his hot cum. 

Panting, he pulled out, and for a moment you worried he would buckle up his belt and leave you like a whore again, but the mattress dipped beside you as he lay down. He drew you into his side, holding you close. 

“You alright?” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “You okay, love?” you nodded, resting your head on his chest, breathing deeply. 

“I-I… more than alright,” you murmured, causing him to chuckle. He lit a cigarette and grinned, rubbing your side as you drew the covers around you both.

 “So, still think I’m a lousy fuck, eh?” he smirked. You grinned and looked up, reaching to kiss him.

 “Not sure,” you said cheekily. “That might have been a fluke. You’ll have to repeat that display a few more times so I know you didn’t just get lucky,”

 “Oh, I got lucky all right,” he smirked. “Sleep. We’ll take the day off work tomorrow, and I’ll show you that wasn’t a fluke, eh?”

[inkandpen22]

Beautiful Angel of Darkness (4/?)

Pairing: Spike x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fighting, fluff 

Word Count: 1.6k

Part Summary: Everything is perfect, Spike and Y/N couldn’t be wickedly happier! Then, an old friend of Spike’s pays a visit from Los Angeles... 

Masterlist

I observe Spike chit-chatting with a little brunette thing in the alley below as I use the ledge of this roof as a balance beam. Growing bored, I hum a familiar Blink-182 tune. Honestly, how long does it take to lure a ditsy girl away from a bar alone? You chat her up, charm her a little, make her feel special, then she’ll follow you like a puppy. I could do it better at this point!

I whine, squatting down on the ledge to check back down the many stories to the little white dot that’s Spike. Maybe I should just jump down, scare the absolute shit out of the girl, make her faint, and have Spike carry her home for dinner. She’s doesn’t even look worth it though, she’s far too skinny. I like someone who eats a lot of sweets, they taste like candy!

“Y/N...”

A voice behind me, makes me leap up from my position. A figure appears from the shadows. A tall, broad-shouldered, brunette man with a rather crossed expression stands before. Oh looky here, he has a leather coat just like Spike. Does everyone have one?! Do I need one?

I tilt my head, a smirk rises on my lips. “And who might you be?”

“I’m a friend,” the handsome man states simply.

I hop down from the platform and approach him smoothly like a snake. I bite my lip, circling the gentleman steadily.

“A real friend? Or...” I drag out. “Are you the type of man that says he’s a friend, then hurts me?”

He raises a brow, following my motion with the turn of his head. “Spike as you tightly round, doesn’t he?”

I step quickly to meet his gaze, “you know Spike?”

“My name is Angel,” he states plainly. “I’ve known him for many years.”

“Angel...” I repeat, arching my head back to the sky. “Pretty name for a pretty boy.”

“Thank you.”

I giggle, my eyes falling shut. “Are you used to getting compliments? Do you just drown in them?” My face falls as my eyes flicker open. “I’ve dreamt of drowning. In a dark river on a stormy night. My car would go over a bridge. The water... it would be so cold, blood piercing,” I describe in a mutter as I recall the memory vividly.  

“Y/N, I’m here to help you,” Angel tells me.

I swiftly direct my focus to him. “Help me? In what way?”

“You’ll need to come with me,” he instructs vaguely.

“Come with you? Come to play?” I giggle like a child. “I love playing games! I love messing with people’s minds and making them all jumbled up,” I twirl my fingers around beside my temples.

Angel appears unfazed. He doesn’t even flinch. What a bore.

“Spike, he turned you right?” He questions instead, sticking to business. 

I hum, strolling about randomly. “That beautiful angel of darkness,” I whisper to myself as the image of Spike flashes across my mind. 

“Has he ever mentioned me?” Angel inquires.

“Is he supposed to?” I frown.

“Not per se,” he shrugs. “But I’m a large portion of his history.”

“Are you one of his lovers who left too?” I joke, laughing wickedly.

“No, I’m his grandsire,” he explains.

“Oh, is that right?” I skip to be in front of him again. I run my hand down his chest. “So you’re the really big-bad?”

Angel doesn’t react to my actions or my words. He’s constantly frowning, crossed about something. My goal is to break him. I love breaking people

“I like bad things, evil things. Evil things are far more interesting,” I whisper to him as my eyes fall to his lips. “Are you interesting sweet Angel?”

He grips my arms urgently, causing me to gasp. “This isn’t the real you, Y/N! You lost your soul! I can help you get it back!”

“And why would I want to do that? I have so much more fun now.” I snicker and graze my thumb across his lower lip gently.

“This isn’t the way. You’re hurting people, destroying lives!” He preaches, ignoring my flirtatious behavior.

My face falls, “Oh... oh my God!” Tears start to whelm up in my eyes, “you’re right! I... I...” I turn it off, “I don’t care.”

Angel growls, squeezing my arms, “listen to me-”

Abruptly, Angel has shoved away from me and he hits the ground a few yards away. Spike appears at my side, panting angrily. “Piss off Angel!”

His arm crosses in front of me protectively and he guides me to hide behind him. 

“Spike, you know this is wrong!” Angel yells, rising from the floor. “You can’t keep doing this to her!”

“I’m not doing anything to her. She made her choice,” Spike grumbles.

Angel storms up to Spike, his face filled with hatred. “She didn’t know what she was signing up for when you turned her! Now, she isn’t in the right mind to decide!”

“Are you calling me crazy? Okay, that’s fair,” I shrug, strolling away from the dramatic duo.

Spike gets into Angel’s face. “Did Buffy send you?!”

“She called me, but I came on my own!” Angel informs him sharply.

"This has nothing to do with you!" Spike yells. "This doesn't concern you or the Slayer!"

“You’ve been ravaging the city! How could it not concern her?” Angel fires back. 

I peer up at the sky, the shimmery stars they’re so clear tonight. It distracts me. I wonder away, leaving the boys to have it out. The stars, I could fall into them. A peaceful tune plays in my mind and I sway to it. I roll my head back and my eyes fall shut. Oh what I’d give to fall into the sky. 

“Pretty, pretty, stars,” I mumble. Then, the most brilliant idea pops into my head. “Do you ever think that the sky could swallow us whole?”

Suddenly, Spike cups my face frantically. He lowers himself to my level and his beautiful blue eyes plead with me. “Baby! Baby, you-”

I place my hands over his and snicker, not a care in the world. “Can we blast Nine Days when we get home?”

“Y/N, look at me! Don’t listen to a word Angel says, okay? He lies!” Spike instructs sternly.

I peer into Spike’s eyes, I get lost in the morning, noon, and night. He’s the real angel, a dark angel. 

“Come with me Y/N.”

I glance beside us and Angel’s there offering me his hand. Spike takes my hand hurriedly. 

“Don’t look at him, Y/N!” He demands.

“You can come to stay with me in Los Angeles,” Angel requests calmly. “I’ll help you regain your soul.”

“Los Angeles? The city of Angels?” I mumble, searching Angel’s face for any sign of deceit.

“Yes,” he nods, starring into my eyes solemnly.

Why must he always look so sad? Does he never smile? A sad angel sounds contradictory.

“How ironic...” I mutter, slipping my hand from Spike’s as I step closer to Angel slowly. “Tell me Angel, are there Angels? I used to believe in them once. So beautifully white.”

“There are good people there, who I work with,” he tells me. “They’ll help you too.”

“Doesn’t sound very welcoming to me,” I worry quietly.

“You’ll be safe. I can teach you a better way of existing,” he assures.

“Don’t listen to him, Love,” Spike warns behind me.

I whip my head around and meet his gaze. He’s no longer pleading with me or frantic. He stays back, squeezes his fists until his knuckles are white. His jaw clenches as he restrains himself.

“He’ll only bring you pain, that’s what a soul does!” Spike barks, his eyes locked on Angel behind me.

“He’s lying, Y/N,” Angel argues gently.

I flicker my attention back to him and he peers down at me.

“A soul brings back your humanity. You’ll be able to live amongst humans again and not feel the urge to kill them constantly.”

“Y/N-” Spike shouts and I snap my head back.

“You’ll be able to see your family!” Angel interrupts, dropping a massive bomb.

I look back to Angel, utterly torn.

He nods, “I met them today. They miss you.”

“Stop it, Angelus!” Spike growls, storming up to us.

He grabs my hand and starts ushering me away toward the ledge to get out of here.

“Listen to me, Y/N!” Angel pleads, following us. “Come with me! I can offer you another chance at life!”

“But...” I stumble slightly as I switch my sight between Spike and Angel.

“It’ll be okay,” Angel guarantees. “I promise!”

I halt, causing Spike to jolt back. I stare at Angel, unsure of what to do. One part of me is saying to trust him, but the other is saying to not listen and go with Spike.

“Love, let’s go!” Spike tugs on my arm to come along.

I yank my arm free and march up to Angel. He towers over me and I stare into his eyes, tired of this torment.

“I don’t like it when things are ‘okay,” I confess to him vulnerably. “It means something bad is just around the corner. An impending doom...”

He shakes his head slowly. "Not with me, Y/N I’ll protect you,” he whispers.

"And why should I trust you?" I question.

I mean, why should I trust someone who comes at the beck and call of the Slayer? He could be lying for all I know.

"Because I'm not the one who made you choose death to be with me," he reasons, his eyes flickering back to Spike.

My heart sinks in my chest as my eyes fall to the black covering of the roof beneath our feet. So many voices in my head yelling at what to decide, it's excruciating! A small piece of me is yearning for a soul, a conscious to tell me right from wrong. Is it possible that there's an ounce of humanity left in me? The majority of my instincts thrive off the pain of others and claws for more. I want to give in to the darkness and live blissfully. Yet, that small bit continues to nag at me! I don't know. I don't know what to do!

________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard​  @mx-pibbles​  @currently-obsesed-with-spike​

[cajunquandary]

Denim and Demon Blood

Pairing | Dean x Reader

Summary | When Dean fails to back up the Reader on a hunt, she almost pays the price.

Warnings | Canon-level violence, Drinking, Smut, Fluff, Slow burn? Constant burn? There’s definitely some burning in here.

Wordcount | 4200

A/N | This was written for @supernatural-jackles​ SPN Bi-Weekly Writing Challenge, @herstarburststories​ Follower Celebration and @waywardsistershy​ Daily Imagine Prompt Two. Prompts used are in bold and all kind of smashed into each other in my head, leading me to create this. It’s is my very first time writing anything smutty and one of my first creations back from hiatus, unbeta’d as usual so any mistakes belong to yours truly. Thank you for those who cheered me on through the process! @negans-lucille-tblr​ @icecream-and-gadreel​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ @carryonmywaywardcaptain​ Your advice helped make this happen. FEEDBACK IS LIFE. *enjoy the bonus gif*

Y/N was nothing short of pissed. Foul blood and remnants of demon dripped from her jeans. Still heart still pounding with the raw adrenaline of the fight, she stormed out of the back alley and towards the slick black Impala idling patiently in the street. What she couldn’t decide on was what was worse? The demon catching her with her guard down, her partner not having her back, or that she’d had to rely on him anyway. For years she’d hunted alone. Why had this time been different?

Of course, she knew the reason, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

There was a very large, very handsome and charming distraction. One that nearly cost her life. If nothing else, this could not be allowed to happen again. Y/N hunted with the Winchester men from time to time when they needed backup. She knew them as nothing more than twisted monster-killing versions of coworkers. Instead of standing at a coffee pot on a midday break, she would share a round of drinks at a bar, covered in God-knows what.

She reached the car and yanked open the trunk, searching for a change of clothes in her bag. Dean advanced quickly to her side, reminding her to “be easy with the goddam car.”

Y/N ignored him, and there in the middle of the dark, empty street, pulled off her blood-soaked clothes and slipped into a spare set of pants and wool pullover. The chill of the night raised goosebumps until they covered her skin, and Dean was mesmerized by them.

“Just gonna stand there and stare, Winchester? Or are you gonna be useful and get in the car?” She snapped, feeling his eyes on her.

This broke the spell, and Dean clenched his jaw and sulked towards the driver’s door, moaning as if in pain when she slammed the trunk shut. Begrudgingly, Y/N slid into the front seat, ready for the trip back home to be over already.

Typically, Dean would turn on the radio or put in his personal cassette mix; tonight, the air of the cab was thick and heavy and all too quiet. Y/N knew that he was waiting for her to talk, to yell or at least something, but she just sat there, legs crossed and arms folded, eyes staring into nothing. She was positioned as far away from him as she could possibly be.

Dean sighed, knowing that he should have been there sooner. He should have called to tell her there were two demons rather than one. He gripped the steering wheel as tightly as possible, until his nails dug into his palms and the skin over his knuckles grew whiter than an apple core, skin protesting under the stretch. All of this could have been avoided if he’d just made the damn call instead of using it as an excuse to come see her. In his defense, he begged her to wait for him, but the hardened huntress was headstrong. Once she got a lead, she chased it like a bloodhound until it was over, one way or another.

Y/N heard his sigh and saw him tense, but she was still too upset with him. Would a phone call have really been that much of an inconvenience? Or did Dean just not give a crap? She sensed him open his mouth in an effort to speak, but no words came and his mouth clamped shut again, temple throbbing with frustration.

“Unless that’s an apology coming out of your mouth, Winchester, I don’t want to hear it.” Y/N diverted her eyes from the road towards Dean, locking onto his gaze.

Man, if her eyes were daggers, I’d be dead, Dean thought.

Her sharp, stony regard froze him for a moment, just long enough for her to break it and reach towards the radio. His hand slapped hers away in reflex, used to forcefully at times reminding Sam that driver picks the music. That was the match that lit the powder keg. Y/N punched him in the arm just hard enough to make him understand how much she was done with his bullshit.

The whole time she was seething at him, though, it was all she could do to keep her eyes off of him. It was bad enough that the whole car smelled like him—leathery and woodsy and just the right level of musk. It was intoxicating and threatened to undo her from the inside out. She struggled to hold it together, knowing she had every right to be furious with the man, but feeling the anger fade away to… something new. Something warm and growing within her core, radiating through her whole being in gentle electric waves that mirror the steady rumble of Baby’s engine.

When his hand had knocked hers away from the dash, the touch felt like a sip of cool water after wandering parched and dying through the desert for an unknown amount of time; when she’d punched him, she tried to not only make a statement, but to send the unwanted feeling back to where it came from. The attempt was unsuccessful however, and only made her want more. She was quickly losing control.

“You seem angry.”

“No shit, Dean.”

“Oh, so it’s ‘Dean’ now is it?”

“Shut up, Winchester.” She scowled, now unable to pull her eyes away from him. The sparse light of the cab lit the angles of his face beautifully. As he moved and fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat, different bits of him illuminated: the edge and twitch of his jaw, clenching and unclenching, his brows furrowed, dark eyes trained on the road ahead, a thin line of sweat running from his hairline downwards, tracing his throbbing carotid down to the valley of his collarbone, pausing for a moment before continuing its journey down his chest until it disappeared behind the flannel. Y/N shook her head in a frustrated attempt to withdraw her attention from the handsome jerk.

Dean took notice of her lingering, now much kinder, eyes. He watched out of the corner of his own as her pupils dilated, giving her away. His face lifted a little in a contented smirk, shoulders rising as he adjusted his posture once more with a new found confidence.

“Why are you so angry?”

Y/N grimaced, again ripped back to the present and away from her fantasies. “You know what, I’m not anymore.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. There’s a reason I hunt alone. You can’t trust anybody but yourself,” she spat.

Dean nodded, understanding his mistake and honestly wanting to make up for it. He just didn’t know how. Talking things through always worked on Sam, so he thought he might give it a shot. “Well you still seem pissed.”

“You know what, Winchester?” Y/N pivoted in her seat so that she was completely facing him, so he could feel the full force of what she was about to unleash. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, sweetheart, and when you say I seem angry, I get angrier. And there's nothing like a mad woman. So, if you know what’s good for your pighead, stop making it worse. Besides, I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

The old car pulled into her drive, taking the bumps and dips like a champ. Y/N couldn’t wait to be far away from Dean—to see his taillights flying back out towards the road. Before Dean could even pull to a stop in front of the small cabin, Y/N leapt from the car. As fast as he could, Dean threw it in park and took out the key, discarding it on the front seat. Y/N had already retrieved her bag from the trunk and was making the short trek up to the front door. Dean bounded behind her, not wanting to lose his shot with the huntress he’d secretly grown so fond of in the last years.

Y/N reached for the doorknob, but Dean’s hand covered it first, blocking her and coming dangerously close. She could feel herself straining to touch him, to feel that electricity surge through her again, but she fought it with everything she had. She wasn’t that kind of girl. If Dean Winchester wanted a one-night stand, he would have to find it elsewhere.

The two hunters stood there, squared off at each other yet close enough to share breaths. Their eyes were locked, each determined to win against the other.

Dean broke first, slowly lifting his hand to stroke the side of Y/N’s face then cupped it tenderly. Although the touch sent shockwaves through her, expending her resolve, Y/N didn’t flinch. She caught and held her breath, steeling herself against him.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know I should have called. I…” Dean’s face fell, bringing it dangerously more close to hers. “I just wanted to see you again. I missed you, and if anything had happened to you tonight I never—” His voice broke, tears gathering along his closed lashes. When he opened his eyes, the deep green of them, floodlit by the full moon above, forced the withheld breath from Y/N.

She began to tremble lightly, choking out a quiet, “Really?”

Y/N dropped the bag to the porch deck, searching his eyes deeply for answers, her mind racing miles a minute. Was this another dream? She loved and could appreciate both of the brothers, but here was Dean, standing before her, close enough to exchange body heat, asking for her. Wanting her.

He released a strained chuckle, a single tear flowing free down his cheek now. “Of course, Y/N. If I could leave all this shit behind, if it all finally ended, all I’d want to do is come home to you.”

She reached an unsteady hand to wipe it away, leaning in closer. He met her the rest of the way and let out a shaky sigh of relief when their foreheads met, lips close, parted and ready. Y/N wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, drawing her body in closer to feel every inch of him.

She whispered with closed eyes, completely enraptured in him, “I dare you to kiss me, then.”

Without hesitation, Dean scooped her even tighter in his arms, stumbling backwards into the wall of the cabin. When their lips met, Y/N shuddered. They were so warm and needy, Dean’s tongue teasing hers, making her want—no, need—more. She lifted her leg up slightly, wrapping her ankle around his, the growing bulge under his jeans so deliciously close to her raging hearth. She moaned into his mouth, dizzy and starting to lose balance.

He played on the shift and spun them around, pinning her up against the wall. With one arm braced above her, the other still around her waist, Dean pressed into her, grinning as she gasped, her mouth falling open.

“You know,” He growled playfully in her ear, teeth grazing the soft spot just behind it. “I kinda like when you’re angry.”

Y/N panted as he gently sucked and nipped along the side of her neck, desperately reaching for the words. “Oh yeah?”

He drew back, giving her a chance to catch her breath. If it weren’t for his knee between her legs, she would be a puddle on the ground. Dean took a moment to etch the image in his mind: her face flushed and shoulders relaxed, mouth slack and eyes blown, mouth slightly ajar and silently begging for more of him. He sported a large, toothy smile—the kind that made his eyes crinkle and her heart swell.

Up until this moment, Y/N had no idea the extent of her feelings. Like everything else, she stifled them, burying them deep down. For the first time, she acknowledged to herself through woozy thoughts that she had been in love with the Winchesters. Though unlike Sam, this love was different, and right now it devoured her.

Dean elaborated, taking his hand off of her waist and moving it up to the nape of her neck and grabbing a fistful of her hair. “Yeah. You’re so hot when you’re angry. I love to watch you fight.”

She tensed against his utter hold over her and gripped the front of his shirt, stretching it tightly across his chest. “You want to watch me fight, Winchester? Then let’s fight,” She dared him, lowering her eyes in defiance.

A look of pure sin drifted over his face, reminding her of the days when he wore the mark of Cain. Finding her strength again, Y/N shoved him backwards with just enough force to create a few feet of distance, then grounded her feet, ready to spar.

Dean lunged forward, hoping his shear size would be able to get her to the ground. She dodged his advance expertly, though, sending the over-excited man into the wall. Before he could turn, she leapt onto his back, arms locked around his throat, providing only enough pressure to distract him. She pressed her heel into the back of his knee, causing him to stumble and catch himself just as he approached the ground. In defense, he rolled out of the fall, releasing her grip on him.

She lay face up, considering her next move when Dean flipped back on top of her, pinning her legs down with his and securing her wrists in his hands.

“Hey!” Y/N protested. In one smooth move, Dean gripped both of her wrists in one of his against the hard wood of the deck and withdrew a set of handcuffs.

Y/N gave in to his spell, completely consumed as she gazed up at his silhouette against the starlit blanket of night, moon still casting long shadows across his determined face.

Without another word, he stood up and pulled her by the cuffs with him before tossing her over his shoulder with ease. With every step, Y/N whimpered from the heat and force of his shoulder into her lower stomach. It was a wonderful discomfort. As Dean gently opened the front door and slowly closed it behind them, she grabbed at the back of his shirt, digging hungrily for skin contact.

Dean let out a low chuckle and turned his head to kiss her hip through the thick material of her sweater, drawing a giggle from her as well. His tone changed a little, and Dean supported her gently as he laid her on the bed and fumbled for the lamp he knew was there.

With a twist and a click, warm light flooded the room, revealing puffs of cold breath in the air. Dean look over her lovingly, taking in her curves and the revisiting goosebumps present on her arms. “Would you like me to start a fire?” He asked.

“I think you already have, Dean.”

He raised his brow playfully at hearing his first name leave her lips again, loving the way it rolled out of her perfect, breathless mouth. He shook his head, a pink tint spreading over freckle-dusted cheeks. He reached into his jacket pocket and produced the key, leaning over to unlock the cuffs.

Her hands, though released, lingered on his with a strong grip. As he straightened back up, she followed, her eyes never leaving his. Y/N licked and bit at her bottom lip, struggling between needing his weight back upon her to ease the growing ache inside and knowing that this—them—couldn’t last forever.

Dean leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I’m gonna go make that fire.”

As he turned to walk away, Y/N found her voice, though it was riddled with want. “Dean.” He stopped and looked over his shoulder, legs bowed more than normal to accommodate for the lack of extra room in his pants. “Do you not want to...” She trailed, worry growing in her chest that she let it go to far.

“I do if you do. I’ve wanted you for so long.” He left with an easy smile to the next room, where he began loudly tossing logs into the old fireplace.

Y/N looked down at the nightstand to her side and reached to gingerly touch the handcuffs. It was all so surreal, and her head swam. She moved to lift off her sweater, but paused when the fabric touched her nose and she accidentally breathed in his lingering and intoxicating scent. With arms suspended and sweater halfway over her head, she didn’t see him come back in.

“Need some help?” He offered. She nodded. With one hand, he lifted it away and tossed it behind him on the chair. With the other, Dean set a bottle and two glasses down next to the handcuffs. “My turn.” He shrugged out of the flannel jacket and lifted the bottom of his shirt slowly, making sure that her eyes followed the hem, taking in every muscle and scar.

Unable to stop herself, Y/N looped her fingers in his belt and yanked him closer, her lips finding the first scar and moving to the next. Dean’s skin drew tight as he flexed against the touch, and he ripped his shirt off the rest of the way impatiently. Head falling back and mouth open as her kisses grew stronger and travelled lower. The subtle grunts falling from him drove her, letting her know when she was hitting all the right spots. Her hands followed the line of his belt, barely brushing and tickling his skin as they worked closer to the clasp. When she released it, Dean snapped his head back down, hunger in his eyes. He took a faltering step back and lifted the bottle of Johnny Walker to his lips, forgoing the glass and swallowing leisurely. Y/N stood on her tip toes to reach his exposed neck and pepper it with kisses.

After a few swallows, the bottle produced a small pop as his lips released it. He let out a long, contented sigh and pressed the bottle into Y/N’s hand. She withdrew from his neck and reveled at the desire in his eyes. Wrapping her hand around to the back of his head, Y/N grasped his hair and pulled him in for a kiss. He moaned involuntarily into her mouth; brows drawn and face twisted in yearning. She pulled his bottom lip between her teeth and sucked, driving him so close that she began to lose balance. Her legs grew weaker from his clothed erection pressed against the bare skin of her belly.

When she broke away, the scent of the fire wafted into the room. With the bottle in her hand already, she swallowed a draught from it before exchanging the bottle for the cuffs on the nightstand. “Can we still use these?” She asked, biting the corner of her mouth.

Dean traced his fingers from her shoulders down her arms, lifting the one still resting behind his head and combining it with the other. In a blink, the cuffs were back on her.

“Well, Winchester, what are you waiting for?” She purred, bound hands pawing at the puzzle of his pants button.

“That’s Dean to you, darlin’.” He took a step forward and guided her down with him to the bed, the coolness of the blankets sending chills through them both.

Y/N ran her fingers through his hair as he wrestled out of his jeans, fingertips tingling as they lifted it the opposite direction than it always lay. She pouted when he moved too far out of reach while kicking his pants off of the last ankle. She lifted her arms above her head and angled to get a better view of him and drew in a sharp breath at the sight. Dean was fully exposed now, his erection long and heavy resting in his hand.

He felt her reaction and whipped his eyes up to study her face, brows stitching together again and clenching his teeth, lips parted slightly.

Y/N was squirming, lids blinking heavily at the glorious sight of him. Her hands flew to her own jeans and she fought with them desperately and lamenting at the sudden difficulty. “Fuck,” she prayed aloud.

Dean’s tongue flicked between his teeth and he pulled at his bottom lip as he teased her, his hand slowly caressing the length of him.

“Fuck, Dean! Please!”

“That’s better, Y/N. Please what?”

“Dean, please, help me out of these!”

Dean obliged, but pulled her bottoms and underwear down tantalizingly slow. She writhed in need, starved of his touch. When she moved too much, Dean would stop and wait for her to calm, until her arms were again outstretched above her head. By the time she was finally bare, tears had gathered in the corners of her eyes and her little moans had grown almost constant.

He began his kisses at her navel and worked his way down to the hollow of her hips. Before reaching the part she so urgently needed release from, he stopped and crawled on top of her, resting his legs up against hers and pulling a loose blanket up and over them.

Dean then relaxed so that his dick settled right in between the outside of her folds and seized the resulting cry from her lips with his. She balled her fists and tried to wrap her restricted arms around him, but the sharp metal bit into her wrists. In an effort to assuage the tight coil within her, Y/N began to push and rub her soft skin against his.

Dean whined and gasped from the friction and the heat of them quickly filling the blanket. He began to knead her back. He nipped along her collarbone, letting his head lay on her chest. Her heartbeat echoed loudly into his ear, her chest rising and falling quickly with shallow breaths. He tracked his hand down the valley of her breasts, stopping just a moment on each one to lift and massage deeply, then down the midline of her stomach to her waiting pussy. “Oh, fuck. You’re so wet!”

Y/N shook at the stroke of his perfectly calloused hands on the delicate skin. She garbled out, “D-dean… Please, I… I need you inside me.”

Unable to hold out any longer, Dean guided his tip to her entrance and thrust himself into her, taking several attempts before bottoming out because she was so tight. She spread her knees apart father until her legs held him firmly in place, her ankles anchoring the vice grip. The symphony of moans, whimpers  and pleading coming from Dean filled her just as much as his cock did, stretching her to her absolute limits. Just as they’d practiced on the porch, Y/N rolled him onto his back and began to grind back and forth, occasionally shifting her position, paying special attention to the angles when each new sound came out of him. His head was pressed back into the pillow and he arched his back slightly to correct the angle of his public bone, making beautiful sounds as she moved.

As the bone hit and bore down on her clit, every cell in her body began to unravel. She stammered out his name as she clenched tighter and tighter, growing louder all the while. Just as he felt her about to come, Dean pulled her flat to his chest by the handcuffs so when she broke, he felt every bit of it. The shock waves hit her like a tsunami; she barely noticed when they rolled back over so he was on top and back in control.

Dean drove into her at a solid pace—not too fast, not too slow. He wanted to savor every moment. As Y/N slowly regained power over herself, she countered his thrusts. As he continued his pace, his shaft reached deeper and harder with every move. Dean began to quake and opened his eyes to finds hers.

“God I’m gonna… I’m close, Y/N.”

“Keep going baby, come inside me, it’s okay.” Her words pushed him to the edge. He tried so hard to draw it out longer, but when she locked her lips with his passionately, sucking and pulling, he tremored and released. Y/N jolted at the pulsing quiver of his dick within her, eyes closed tightly as her walls clenched around him, extracting every bit of him before he crumpled into her.

Chasing their breaths together, it was a while before either of them moved. Dean reached for the key, unlocked the cuffs, causing them to clatter loudly to the floor, then took her small, capable hands in his. He propped his head up on his elbow, enjoying the spent look on her face.

All Y/N could focus on were the deep green folds of his eyes, getting lost in the emerald lakes in the warm light of the cabin.

Dean gave a closed-lip smile as he leaned forward a bit to lay a kiss on her forehead. “Do you want to share a shower?”

She nodded, still drowning in those deep waters. “Will you stay?” She whispered.

“As long as I can, Y/N.”

“Then can I go with you?”

Dean paused for a moment thoughtfully. “Well, that may be for the best. By now, I bet neighbors know my name.”

She laughed and snuggled into him, her head resting on his arm. Maybe we do have a chance at a future after all.

Forevers: 

@supernatural-jackles​ @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch​ @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79-blog​ @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @inmysparetime0​ @impala-dreamers-mainfrigginblog @impala-dreamer @arryn-nyxx​ @idk-life01​ @attorneyl​ @deathtonormalcy56​ @xwing-baby

All about that Dean:

@akshi8278​

[wouldpollyapprove]

I’m Not Like Her

Summary: Y/n never thought she’d take a job as a barmaid, but she had to do what she had to do. Fleeing from a mob in Aberdeen, she was willing to do anything to live a peaceful life. And if that meant working for the Shelby’s then so be it. Life was normal until the mob decided to make an appearance in Birmingham, leading Tommy start to believe Y/n wasn’t exactly who she said she was.

Request: 17 from humor and 4 from misc? With tommy please 🥺❤️

Requested by @jenepleurepasbaby

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Language, alcohol, violence, angst 

A/N: This is barely edited b/c I have no paitence for that, but I really like how this turned out. Oh, and the cocktail I mentioned is from the 1920s but I’m not sure if it was popular in the UK or not. Anyway, I hope you guys like it and sorry for the angst, I couldn’t help myself.

Part Two

Masterlist

The noise filled the air, keeping people focused on what they were doing. It was too loud for anyone to notice much more than what was in front of them due to the alcohol in their system. It was always like that in the Garrison on a Friday night. Men clocked out of work, grabbed a girl, and headed for the pub. That’s how it always went.

Y/n had no time to think about anything but cocktail recipes as she filled orders. The men of Small Heath ordered everything straight out of the bottle. Whether it be whiskey, gin, or rum, it was always served either plain or on the rocks with a splash of water. It all came down to how much they wanted to stumble when they walked out of the door. The woman that tagged along were the ones that wanted to drink something fancy. They wanted to be more than some dirt poor girl from the wrong side of town. A lady in a countryside manor or a duchess in a French Château is what they wanted to be.

And that is what Y/n tried her best to do, give them a piece of a reality that would never be theirs.

She was too busy filling orders to notice the men that had entered the bar. Their appearance was almost identical to that of the Peaky Blinders that frequented the streets. They all wore neatly pressed suits, bulky overcoats covering their suit. No suspicion would have been drawn if it weren’t for the hats that sat upon their heads. 

Handing over the fifth Sidecar she’d made in the last fifteen minutes, Y/n wiped her hands off on her apron. “Good Lord, is it ever gonna slow down?” 

Edith shook her head from beside her. “I fuckin’ wish. I’m sick of this Irish beer Arthur ordered. Everyones to pissed to realize it’s shit.”

Y/n chuckled, “That they are.” Her eyes wandered around the packed bar, landing in bursts on the drunks that stumbled around. Just as she was about to turn back to her work, her eyes landed on three well-dressed men at the door. All the blood drained from her face, turning it ash white. The tammies they wore picking them out of the crowd

“Are you alright?” Edith asked, turning from pouring another glass of whiskey on the rocks. 

Her coworker nodded, before glancing at the clock on the wall above them. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright. I’m off in five-” Mary passed behind her, on time for her shift for once. “-and Mary’s here so I think I’m going to head home.”

She wasn’t given a second glance as she stripped her apron off and fetched her coat from the back room. Eyes followed her like a hawk until she reached the door. Y/n didn’t bother to look at the three men that stood in front of the door, she shoved past them, knowing they wouldn’t make a scene. 

With the door to the Shelby’s private room open, Tommy kept his eye trained on the men while he kept up with the conversation he was having with Michael. The grip on his glass tightened when Y/n appeared and shoved passed two of them. He would have thought that by the time Y/n got off the men would have ordered a drink and found a table, but the stood near the door like statues. Only moved, turning on their heels, when Y/n shoved them out of her way and followed a few feet behind her. 

It was odd. Everything about it was odd. The men that had entered the bar ten minutes before were odd. Tommy could have sworn he’d seen the men once before. London came to mind when he thought of them and how they’d dressed. But no one in London would be caught dead dressing like that. And the man found it odd how Y/n shoved passed them, something he knew she would never do.

Tommy and Y/n had an interesting relationship.

Tommy was in love with her, there was no way he could deny it. He could ignore it, though. After what happened with Grace two years before, he wasn’t sure he was ready to wear his heart on his sleeve. Every once and a while, a sharp pain would overtake his heart and make him remember why he was afraid to love so openly again. He tried though. He tried to do as much as he could for her with what he had. Tommy did his best to protect and behind closed doors, he showed her his heart.

But that could never be aired out in the open.

Thomas Shelby couldn’t have people seeing him weak over a woman. He couldn’t be seen once more being destroyed by the touched of a woman who’d betrayed him.

Y/n was much different than her lover. She was as loyal as they came and would never betray him, not when he owned her heart. Not one to love as few had ever shown her such a thing, she had no problem giving Tommy the love he deserved. She didn’t care about the blood on his hands or the damage caused by the war. She saw past his outward appearance and his tough exterior, loving who he was before and after damage had been done to his heart and soul.

Though he was concerned, there was business to be done and it couldn’t wait. No longer a believer, Tommy prayed to God that he wasn’t making a mistake for not following after her.

Stepping out onto the dirt-covered cobblestones, the cold air bit at her exposed skin as Y/n waited for the men to exit behind her. She turned when the door creaked open, more light pouring out onto the street.

The tallest of the three linked his arm with her’s, dragging her down the street, her protests drowned out by the sound of the other men lighting their cigars. Once he believed them to be far enough from prying eyes, in front of a factory that was closed for the night, he stopped and swung the girl in front of him. “Didn’t think I’d fin ya, did ya?”

“You fuckin’ bastard,” Y/n spat, pulling her arm out of his grasp. “What the fuck are you doing here, Roger?”

It had been ages since the two had last seen each other, parting onto a hill that overlooked Aberdeen, blood and tears on both their faces. They’d shared some good times, getting into all the trouble they could. They ran from the law in Edinburgh, jumping a train with a bottle of whiskey in their bag. Y/n stayed by his side when his father put him in charge of his family’s company and she watched him turn into a hungry monster, out for money and blood.

A laugh vibrated his chest, he leaned forward, moving a piece of curly hair out of her face. How he’d missed those curls of her’s. “I’ve come to ask for your help, love.”

Swatting his hand away from her face, she pushed him away, wishing to create distance between them. The men beside him, supposed to be his body guards, did nothing, believing she held no power. She rolled her eyes at their dismissals, Ed and Jim had never been very good at keeping their boss out of danger. “No fucking way will I ever help you.”

“Ya used to help with everything. There was nothin’ ya wouldn’t do fer me.”

“That was before you killed Charlie-” Y/n folded her arms across her chest, wrapping her coat around her tighter. “He was my friend, Roger.”

The man rolled his eyes. He never cared about what he had to do to keep his business running. “He was taking you from me.”

“Your brutish behavior was taking me away from you. Don’t confuse the two.” Y/n reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She waltzed around the men as she dug around for a lighter, knowing the men in front of her weren’t gentlemen and would never offer over their lighters. 

Before she could get her cigarette lite, a crash from the alley across from them caught everyone’s attention. Roger, Ed, and Jim reached under their coats for their weapons. Y/n turned to see a couple of Peaky boys walk out of the alley. She’d seen them before, they normally helped in the betting shop and had accompanied their boss to London a time or two. “Roger, don’t shoot them,” she demanded, trying to step in his way. 

The Peaky Blinders drew their own weapons, ready to fire if they had to. 

Y/n rolled her eyes. Why were men the way they were? Instead of staying and watching blood spill, she turned her back to the group of men. “Don’t do anything too stupid, Roger. No one here will save you arse,” she warned him, walking into the darkness of Small Heath.

*~~*~~*

The two Peaky Blinders that escaped unscathed from their encounter with Roger Flint, which was a relief. One of the men knew exactly who Roger was as he came from Scotland. He also knew how rare it was for Roger to let someone live in a firefight. 

With ragged breaths, the two men rushed into the Garrison and wasted no time to find Tommy. Their boss was still where he was when Y/n had left, leaning in his chair, cigarette between his lips and glass of whiskey in his hand. 

The Shelby’s all turned when Ricky entered the private room panting like a dog. “What the fuck happened to you?” John asked, a little laugh ending his sentence. 

“W-we were out… out by the factory,” he started, clutching his side. “And Roger Flint was out there with some of his men.”

“Y/n was there with ‘em,” the man beside him added.

The mention of her name forced Tommy to his feet, his glass shattered to the floor. “Was she hurt?”

Ricky shook his head. “No, no-” He took a deep breath, trying to expand his lungs. “She seemed to know him. Personally.”

Was that worse than being caught with a copper? The mobster hadn’t the faintest clue, but he didn’t like the sound of it. “Where is she now?”

The two men exchanged glances, surprised that they hadn’t been chewed out for leaving her. “Don know. She left, I think she went home.”

Dragging his hand over his face, Tommy sat back down. How did Y/n know Roger Flint? That wasn’t a man anyone knew casually. A sigh escaped his lips as he took Arthur’s drink. The alcohol burned his throat as he emptied the glass. He thought Y/n was nothing but honest with him, but that was clearly a lie. 

So there Tommy sat, his family exchanging worried glances from around the room, while all his fears washed over him like a raging river.

*~~*~~*

Y/n slept like a baby, Roger easily faded from her memory as she slept. He was never much to remember. The man was nothing but an overgrown baby trying to make a name for himself as a mobster. It was pathetic. All that went through her mind as she dressed for work was the amount of glasses she’d have to clean off of tables and the shattered glass that would need to be swept off the floor. 

As she did every morning, Y/n stopped by the small cafe around the corner from her house. She was never one for cooking and her kitchen didn’t permit more than a sandwich to be made. It always seemed to bring her joy, stopping in to get a scone, and chatting with the owner. It was the start she needed for what she knew would be a long day.

Once she was feed, Y/n wasted no time walking to work. Dodging children, who ran through the street like monkeys, and women gossiping as they headed to the market, she finally arrived at the doors of the Garrison. Fetching the key out of her purse, she dropped it back in when she found the door unlocked.

The Shelbys had obviously arrived before her.

A smile tugged at her lips upon entering the pub, memories from the night before playing in her mind. Though the place was a mess, she was happy to be at work then to be helping Roger. Anything was better than being in the same room as him. Her smile faltered when she caught a glimpse of Tommy behind the bar. His muscles were tight and there was fire in his eyes. He looked up at her and all Y/n could see was boiling anger. 

She did her best to send him a smile as she tugged off her coat, placing it on the bar. “Good morning, love.”

His knuckles turned white against the bottle of whiskey he’d grabbed off the shelf. “Don’t bother, Y/n,” he growled. 

The smile dropped to the floor along with her eyes. Roger clearly hadn’t killed the Blinders, damn. It would have been much easier to pretend that her time with the Scottish mobster never happened then to ever have to explain it to the man she loved. “What’s wrong, Tommy?” she asked, deciding it would be easier to play dumb. 

It was a long shot, but there was a chance she could get the man to believe her word over that of his men.

Tommy shot her a dangerous look. A warning that stated he wouldn’t believe a thing she said. “Who were you with after work last night?”

“No one.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not,” she snapped. 

There was a pause, making Y/n nervous, as Tommy opened the bottle of whiskey and poured it into the glass in front of him. The pub was silent while he sipped at it before he placed it back on the bar. “Let’s not play this game. I know a liar when I see one, Y/n, because I’m a liar.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at his words. “What do you want me to say? That I was with someone that wasn’t you?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n. Flint is the fucking enemy! And there you were waltzing’ around with him! How fuckin’ loyal!” he yelled and in a fit of rage grabbed his glass and threw it at the wall beside him. “I thought you were better than her, turns out you’re the same type of snake.”

His words burned against Y/n’s ear, causing her heart to shrivel up in pain. “Bite me,” she seethed. Before any more damage could be done, she reached for her coat and ran out the door., shouting, “I quiet,” on her way out.

How fucking stupid could she be, thinking she outrun away from Roger? He would always come back to haunt her. 

The door slammed behind her and once her feet hit cobblestone, she ran like a freight train, dropping her coat as she gained speed. She needed to create as much distance between her and Thomas Shelby as she could. God, she hoped to never see his face again.

Running along the streets of Small Heath, people shot her confused looks and moved out of her way as they saw nothing would stop her. Y/n ran, one foot in front of the other until her legs gave way and she tumbled to the ground. She pushed herself off the ground, sobs racked her body as she wandered into an alley, sliding down the wall of the brick building beside her.

“I’m not like her,” she muttered to herself between sobs. “I’m not like her.”

What Tommy didn’t know, was Roger was a no one to her. He had been nothing for a long time and she never planned on allowing him back in her life, not after all the pain he caused. But it was too late to explain that now. She had been labeled a traitor and there was no way to scrub that off.

The words tattooed across her forehead and the pain in her heart were nothing compared to the pain she felt for hurting Tommy as she did. He trusted her and, slowly, he was starting to recover from what Grace had done to him only for it to happen once more.

It killed her to think that she had done then one thing she swore to never do.

*~~*~~*

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[mightyfineblog]

‘Give In To Me’ Joe Mazzello x Reader

Smut, smut, smut; hold it there good girl; teasing; orgasm control; bad girls get punished; l-bomb; don’t get daddy mad;

1.6k words of pure smut

A/n: This one is for all my Joe girls!

Enjoy:

“You didn’t just do this!” Joe pulled you in an alley on the side of the pavement.

“Have you lost your mind?” He hissed, squeezing your arm. His eyes were dark and angry.

“Ouch.” You tried to wriggle but his grip got harder.

“Let go of me.” You raised your voice, but his other hand covered your mouth stopping you in place, forcing you to look up to him.

“You, lovely…” he gulped his anger “do not get to act like a brat in public.”

Your breathing and heart beating were getting heavier by the second, the thoughts of his actions were flashing through your mind, giving you the pinch of excitement.

“It’s your fault.” You mumbled underneath his fingers on your mouth.

He lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. Running his tongue quickly to each corner of his mouth, caught your glimpse.

“Hm…” his body oozed confidence and dominance from every pore.

“Is that so?” not releasing his palm off your mouth, he lowered his head to your ear.

“Is my girl jealous?” His breath pierced through and sent shivers all over your body.

You felt intimidated and embarrassed right at the spot, and his body shutting every move you tried to make, didn’t help. You were helpless and all at his mercy.

“I think you, are.” He chuckled from the bottom of his throat before abruptly moving your chin to the side. He inhaled the smell of your neck and sucked his mouth onto it.

“J-Joe.” Your eye rolled back and knees got weak, when you felt his luscious lips against your jaw.

“P-please.” You breathed out when his hand released your mouth and slid down your thigh.

His sweet torture suddenly stopped when he let go of you all at once and turned around.

“Damn it.” He ran his hand through his hair.

“You.” He turned around and pointed at your painting figure, but didn’t say a word more.

“You make me loose control and do stupid things.” You finally spoke.

“You, should be controlling yourself.” He exhaled and took your hands in his.

“Who was she?” you hissed.

“Does it matter?” he pulled you in his brace.

“Okay, okay, I may.. be a bit jealous.” You rolled your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Wait until we get home, baby girl.” He slapped your bum “I’ll make sure you know that I’ve eyes only for you.” He squeezed your bum and met your lips for a demanding kiss. Biting your lower lip, you were ready to melt in his hands.

“Keep it for later, baby…” his strong hands embraced your whole body.

“Now, behave, or else.” He let go of you and pointed you out. You were all hot and bothered from the adrenaline rush but walked out back into the restaurant.

Though you were sure, you’d be getting it real good when you get home, you were still nervous about this woman shifting around your man in her little number. So that thought kept you on your toes for the rest of the night. Joe, of course, sniffed your tension, and would pay attention to her instead of you, just to give you a hard time.

When the two of you finally got into the car, you were more than hot and certainly more than bothered.

“You are such a dick!” you hit the lid of the compartment in front of you.

“Careful.” Joe hissed in a warning tone.

“Careful? You were the one who was flirting with some other woman the whole night!” you raised your voice.

“I told you earlier. It is nothing.” He hit the pedal making you lie flat on your seat.

“Plus, you’re the one who made a little scene…” his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. His right hand slid off right to your thigh. His touch made the breath hit your throat. He noticed and an evil smirk appeared on the side of his lip.

“And yet, you’re frustrated and” his hand moved up and squeezed, making you buckled your knees together “excited.”

“I’d tell, watching me flirt and pay attention to somebody else tonight, gets you going. Pushes your buttons.” His fingers slid up more until reaching your knickers where he applied pressure.

His actions were already making you wet enough for you to confess.

“Talk to me.” He kept making cirlces againt your core, sendind shiveres all over again and again.

“I….” you moaned.

“It pissed me, seeing you… with … her … and… not… me!” you squeacked at the last word, when his finger passed your underwear and attached straight to your sensitive bud.

“You were sayin, love?” He cooed.

You could feel Joe’s wild side come in, prevailing over his body, like poison taking over his bloodstream. His eyes were dark and body strong and demanding.

“Please.” You mumbled, when your senses started to heat up.

“Please, what?” his lips formed a smirk.

“Please, daddy?” You were hoping for the right guess.

“Ahh, baby. You sound so sweet, I could take you right here, right now.” His husky voice oozed in your ears, giving you shivers.

“What’s stopping, you then?” You bit your lower lip.

“Not when I’m driving.” his hand released the sweet torture on your core, just when your breath had started to hitch your throat.

“I’ll take care of you at home.” He gave your thigh a tiny slap.

You were left panting and anticipating the moment he pulls up the driveway, just to see what he does next.

“Let’s go.” He turned off the roaring engine and hopped off. You followed like a little kid, following lollypop.

Once inside, you waited with anticipation, but Joe didn’t seem too bothered.

“joe…” you walked up to him and situated yourself in his lap.

“Oh Joe…” you rubbed your body against his, resting your head on his shoulder.

“You alright, baby girl?” He nonchalantly asked.

“You haven’t forgotten me, right?” You moaned, rocking yourself against his hips, trying to get the smallest of release, you could.

“I’m showing you, exactly how much I love you.” He hissed and slid his hands up your dress.

“In fact.” He quickly switched places and was on top of you now.

“I’m going to show you, exactly what you’re getting. And why you should never do such scenes in public, little girl.” He stood up and took his belt off.

“What do you say? You’ve been bad, huh?” his raspy voice brought you to your knees.

“Gotta punish you now, don’t we?... bend over.” He demanded.

“W-what? With the belt?...” you bit your lip.

“You’re going to enjoy it more than it would hurt, I promise…” he gave you a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Now bend over my knees.”

You compliantly did so. Joe exposed your bum and played with the hem of your knickers. Massaging your bum cheecks he broke the silence.

“Count with me to 5…” he sounded excited and calm in the same time.

“Only if you kiss it better afterwards.” You perked your arse a little higher.

Before you knew it his first slap had hit your skin.

“Fuck!” you squaked.

“Count!” his hand massaged the place.

“One.” It wasn’t that bad.

“two” you squeaked even higher.

“’three” you cried out when the third slap came, making your eyes blur.

“Can you take two more?” he prompted, massaging the red skin of your bum.

“Yes, daddy.” You couldn’t hold the excitement forming in your stomach.

“that’s right baby girl.” The next two slaps came through very fast.

Before you knew it, Joe had you flipped on your back.

“Will you make a scene like this ever again?” He took off your knickers and slid down his trousers.

“No.” you shook your head with teary eyes.

“Not convinced yet baby.” He lowered himself over you and kissed you passionately.

“I will never leave you for another. You just have to give in to me. Say it.”

“Please. Please fuck me.” Your hands buried in his hair. Digging your nails, pulling his hair strands when he entered your hot and dripping wetness.

“Fuck.” His head fell on your shoulder.

“God, you’re so tiny, you feel amazing.” He kissed you and started thrusting slowly at first. He then picked up the speed.

“I’m so close, daddy.” You whined, being already at the edge for some time.

“Hold it for daddy. Be a good girl and I’ll let you cum with me.” He stated, moving his hand between your bodies. Finding your clit, he rubbed it, makin it harder for you to hold the explosion forming in your stomach.

“Please.” You begged.

“So needy today. Okay. You can cum with me.” He sloppily thrusted a few more times.

“Now.” He grunted, releasing his hot mess all inside if you, filling you completely. This was more than the push you needed to come, you exploded with shaking orgasm. You body convulsing uncontrollably underneath his for what felt like the longest time ever.

“God, I love you.” Je kissed you on the lips.

“I love you too.” You mumbled with last breaths.

“Stay. I want to feel you some more.” You kissed him again.

“I really want you fuck me like this more often.” You managed after you were able to catch your breath.

“Funny. I thought you liked being a good girl….” He poked your nose.

“Just keep cuddling to my arms, please.” He smiled and took you in.

“I can never image me anywhere else…” you sighed and snuggled.

[blueluneacy]

Monsters of the Alley

I did it folks. It’s a dedicated sorbet/gelato/reader fic, written by me. I’m supposed to be studying for finals.

I got this idea from @j0succ, so you should check them out! Their blog gave me minor character disease-

It’s a Not SFW Werewolf!Sorbet x Human!Reader x Vampire! Gelato! wow

Words: 3k

Warnings: NOT SFW, implied stalking, predator/prey play, breaking and entering, violence, rough play, biting, bloodplay, SERIOUS dubcon, kidnapping, all around yandere, just a bad time for the reader

You knew that walking alone at night was a bad idea, but what could you do, really? It wasn’t like the world was going to wait around for you, cater to your every need. In a world full of monsters, you knew that it was dangerous to be a human, alone and fragile in the dark, but hey. They say that humans were the most common and that attacks from monsters were actually pretty uncommon, yadda yadda, whatever. It didn’t matter how many warnings you were given, you weren’t the type to listen to you. Maybe it was stubbornness, or just plain need that kept you moving through the dark streets. After all, you had done this probably hundreds of times before. If you stopped working, who knows what would happen. It was well worth the risk. 

So, you kept walking, kept moving through the dark streets in hopes that slipping through an alleyway here or there would get you home faster. While maybe this wasn’t the best idea, you weren’t exactly the type to care. You had pepper spray, after all. Everything would be fine.

That’s what you continued to tell yourself as you walked down the alleyway, ignoring every sound you heard down the street. Because it was always a stray cat in a dumpster, or a drug deal you weren’t about to get in the middle of. It was basic Italian sentiment to mind your own business, and you had at least picked up on that rather well. So when you passed the two men at a corner, you didn’t really give their glances two thoughts, just gripping your purse tighter and walking a bit more quickly. You let them rake their eyes over you, because that’s all you thought they would do. After all, no men would hang out around these parts of Naples unless they were up to no good. When you were a few steps away, you turned back just to see if they were still looking at you, only to find that they had walked away. Good. It was always nice when things were easier for you. Maybe they thought you would get in the way of some meeting or whatever. You didn’t care enough to find out. You just kept walking, taking your usual route home.

And maybe that’s where you should’ve been worried. After all, you took this route home every day, rarely changing your routine. Have you seen those men before? You weren’t sure, but you could’ve sworn something was familiar about them. Like, the darker haired man’s nose felt quite sharp, or the teeth of the smaller man looked like they almost glistened in the light. You tried to shake the thoughts away as you opened the door to your small, shitty apartment, fumbling with the key a bit in the darkness. This was hell, working late into the night like this. You knew you weren’t going to make yourself anything healthy to eat, so you didn’t even bother to kid yourself anymore. You just swung open the door, pulling off your shoes and practically flinging yourself onto the couch, sinking into the cushions as you already felt your eyes fluttering shit. 

And yet, something wasn’t right. Something didn’t feel right about something in your home, but you didn’t know what it was. You sat up, looking around but you couldn’t find a thing to really put your finger on. A certain uneasiness in your chest, like you could feel yourself being watched. You got up and moved to check if your door was locked, sighing a bit in relief when you saw it was. Good, you were just going crazy. It was much easier for you to accept that you were a lunatic than you were in danger, after all. And yet, when you heard a floorboard creak behind you, you turned in fear, swallowing as you looked over what had to be an illusion.

“So nice of you to lock the door for us, cara.” You heard the smaller man practically snarl to you, but the sound was faint over the sound of the blood pumping in your ears as your breathing picked up. They were… The men from the alleyway? But how did they get here faster than you, and what was the deal with…. You noticed the large teeth and muzzle of the darker haired man, the way his eyes looked over you as if you were just meat, and maybe that’s all you really were to him. Or maybe it was seeing how pale the other man’s skin was in this light, the way you could see him baring his fangs, his tongue drifting over them idly.

Oh god. Not only were these two monsters, but they were the most stereotypical combo to murder you. Your death was totally going to look like a joke. Still you swallowed a bit, trying to show a little bit of strength in this dire moment. 

“G… Get out of my house, and I won’t call the cops.” You snapped back, letting the heavy pause linger in the air. The two of them stared at you, almost shocked at your defiance, before laughing. Well, maybe you should’ve seen that coming. Not only were the both of them stronger than you, but everyone knew that the police would take their time coming here, ready to solve a crime but not stop one. That was the way things were. With the weak being devoured by the strong. 

“I told you, Sorbet. She’s a fighter, wouldn’t it be a lot more fun that way?” The man purred, leaning his head against the taller man, who you could only assume was Sorbet, leaving him to wrap an arm around him, but not take his eyes off of you.

“This should be interesting enough.” Sorbet replied, leaving you to gulp. Fuck it. Fuck it all. It was now or never. You would rather die knowing you gave a proper fight than just let yourself be devoured by these… things. You gripped the doorknob tightly, flinging open the door and bolting out, hoping to get as far away as possible. You had no idea where or how you were going to get there, but it didn’t really matter in the long run, did it? After all, you only got ten meters out the door. 

You yelped as claws dug into your shoulders, grabbing onto you and dragging you back into your apartment. You tried to fight, but it became quickly clear that if you got away from Sorbet’s hold, it would be without your shoulder. You noticed vaguely how the vampire’s nose seemed to flare up as you were thrown to the ground, your head slamming against the shitty hardwood. You groaned, trying to pick yourself up off the ground as you heard the door slam shut, only for a boot to be slammed into your back.

“You look hungry, Gelato. Maybe you should take a bite before we get started?” Sorbet spoke out, but his teasing seemed much more sadistic that Gelato’s. Well, they were both sadistic assholes, but at least Gelato’s words had a light quality to them. Either way, Gelato just leaned down and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“That was quite a cute stunt you pulled, ragazza. We really do look forward to seeing what other tricks you attempt to pull.” He purred. You squirmed in his grasp, but his hold on you was bruising, leaving you just to snarl.

“Do you always play with your food, or am I just special?” You spat back, leaving Gelato to give you a sick smile as he let you go, only from Sorbet to thread his head through your hair and pull you up, his claws digging into your scalp.

“You’re just special, troia.” Sorbet growled into your ear, roughly using his other hand to tear off your clothing as if it were just paper. You gasped and tried to cover yourself, only for Gelato to grab your wrists and pin your against Sorbet’s body, the two of them giving you little room to move. You felt the bulges against you, and you gulped, your eyes widening a bit. Oh god, they weren’t planning to kill you. They were planning to do so much worse. You just squirmed, trying to fight your captors but to no avail. They were both just too strong, enjoying the chase a little too much. Gelato leaned down to your shoulder wound, inhaling sharply before dragging his tongue over it. You gasped at the sting, gritting your teeth as you heard the breathy purr that came from Gelato’s throat. 

“I’d prefer if you didn’t fuck around with the killing me part.” You spat back, trying to kick to get the two of them off of you, only for Sorbet to growl as he dug his nails into you, the pain leaving you to whimper a bit as you were a bit more still for Gelato to suck and lap at the wound. You were certain that it was going to leave a nasty scar at this rate.

“You’re lucky I’m not the one who’s starving, or else you’d be torn to shreds. Be good for my Gelatino, now.” He breathed into your ear, and you could feel how hot his breath was, smell the blood wafting off him in a way that just made your most primal instincts tell you to run, to escape from these predators. And yet, you gasped when you felt the two of them grind against you. Adrenaline was one hell of a drug, and that was the only reason the heat was starting to coil in your belly. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Gelato finally pulled away from your shoulder with a soft hum, letting go of you to work on tearing off your pants. The two of them really had no care for your clothing, to the point where it was pissing you off. You could at least undress yourself.

“H-Hey, what the hell?! I had to pay for those, you know!” Well, it was easier to bring up smaller concerns in your attempts to be defiant in all of this, doing your best to ignore the hot feelings coiling inside of you as you felt Sorbet wrapping his arms around you as Gelato more tenderly took off your panties.

“You’ve already soaked through, troia. I guess a needy slut like you will do anything for a cock inside of her.” Gelato teased, shoving a finger inside of you. It easily slid in, but you still jumped at the roughness, a bit of fight still in you. It was quickly quelled with a tight grip from Sorbet, his nails drawing blood in a way that made Gelato lick his lips.

“Behave, or I’ll make you.” Sorbet growled, leaving you to whimper and nod just a little bit, Gelato just rolling his eyes a bit. He pulled his finger out, shoving it in your mouth with expectation to suck. With Sorbet’s threat still in the air, you didn’t hesitate to wrap your lips around his finger.

“She’s spread enough. Besides, a slut like that will enjoy the pain anyway, there’s no need.” Gelato complained, not looking at you but up at his boyfriend. You could tell that he was impatient, clearly used to getting what he wanted rather quickly and not wanting to work for it. Sorbet thought for a moment, before leaning in to press a kiss against Gelato’s lips over your shoulder. You never felt like such a third wheel before. 

“I indulge you too much.” Sorbet replied, relenting as he let you go for a moment, leaving you to wobble for a moment as you got your bearings. It might be easier to run from one rather than two, but a sick twisted part of you kind of just wanted to see where this would go. I mean, even if they were two twisted bastards who most certainly would kill you after this, well… This familiarity, you just still couldn’t quite understand what it was.

Almost as quickly he let go though, Sorbet was grabbing you again, dragging you over to the couch and onto his lap. You gasped as you felt your bare back against his chest, the fur that covered his body much more prominent. You gasped as you felt Sorbet’s cock rub up against you, realizing how big it was, and how much you fucked up by not trying to run away.

“W-Wait, it’s too big! It won’t fit, please!” You cried out, only for Sorbet to simply scoff at your pleas.

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit.” He growled, giving you no chance to protest before pushing into you with one harsh thrust. You screamed out, tears falling from your eyes as your body tried to adjust to the length inside of you. You gasped and heaved, barely noticing how Gelato was coming closer to you, like a fox towards an injured rabbit. 

“Look how pretty the two of you are together. I feel left out.” Gelato purred, brushing a piece of hair from your face. The tenderness was unnerving, leaving you to fear what exactly he was planning to do next.

“I never said you couldn’t join us.” Sorbet replied, and you craned your head to see a smirk on his face, the same plan forming in both their minds that you were helplessly left out of. It only clicked when you started to feel Gelato rub up against your full entrance, leaving your eyes to widen as you realized exactly what was going on.

“So kind of you to invite me. You don’t mind, do you, carina?” Gelato asked, but his voice was dripping with vitriol, clearly having no intentions to stop no matter what you said. But still, you pleaded.

“W-Wait, please, I’m too full, you can’t, p-please-” You were cut off by your own breathy gasp and Gelato pushed past your limits, thrusting himself inside of you in a way that you didn’t think the human body could actually handle. 

“Such a bad liar, puttana. It’s clear that your body was made for our cocks.” Sorbet growled, allowing you no time to adjust as he started to move, Gelato gladly taking the cue to start fucking into you with vigor. There was nowhere for you to escape, leaving you to groan, grabbing onto Sorbet’s thighs to try and give yourself something to hold onto. Gelato grabbed onto your chest while Sorbet held your hips.

“Do you like this? Like being fucked by the men who’ve been watching you all this time?” Gelato teased, and you whimpered, realizing to yourself that you did like it, quite a lot in fact. Something about the way they were fucking you seemed to scratch some primal itch, leaving you to squeeze down on their cocks heartily, moans and gasping pouring from your open mouth. 

“Che brava coniglia… It’s a good thing we got to you first.” Sorbet huffed into your ear, and god, you could feel him nipping at it lightly, subconsciously tilting your head to give the man more access.

“Any other monster would’ve devoured you by now. But you’re ours, and we like to make sure what’s ours stays right in our sight. You should be grateful.” Gelato’s tone and words were threatening, but you were too far gone to care. The two of them just felt so good inside of you that you could barely put together a coherent thought, leaving you to simply babble.

“P-Please, fuck, Sorbet, g-god, Gelato, please, I’m so so close-” You whined out, trying to buck against the two of them, but Sorbet held you far too tightly. The two of them just seemed to speed up their thrusts into you at your warning, leaning in to the opposite sides of your neck to worry at the flesh.

“Cum for us then, piccola puttana sporca.” Sorbet growled, before the two of them sunk their teeth into the sides of your neck. You moaned out loudly as you came, the waves of ecstasy washing over your body quickly leaving you just to shudder in their grasp before going limp. Lucky enough for you, the way you milked their cocks while you came seemed to be enough to push them over the edge, and you felt the heat of their mixed fluids deep inside of you. It felt so much hotter than you would’ve anticipated. They held onto your neck for a bit, before pulling away and lapping up the blood they drew, taking pleasure in the small winces and whines you gave in return. 

When they finally pulled out, you felt yourself immediately lose balance and collapse in a heap on the floor. That took a lot more out of you than you expected. You looked up drearily at the pair, thinking about how this was it, how they were going to kill you. Well. It was a good run, at least. You can definitely say you went out with a bang. 

But, Sorbet just scooped you up in his arms, carrying you like a sack of potatoes. “W-What? What’s going on, what are you doing?!” You started to squirm, but Sorbet paid it no mind, turning to Gelato.

“See anything you like here?” “Not really. It’s honestly just full of a bunch of knick knack crap. She won’t need any of it anyway.” Gelato replied, leaving you to cry out as you squirmed.

“What, can’t just eat me here?! Got more plans to torture me?!” You spat, but Gelato just smirked, shaking his head.

“Do you really think we’re going to kill you? You really are dense. Maybe we will, later. But I think I want to see how far that pretty little will of yours goes. You don’t mind, do you?” Gelato replied, and god, you had learned to hate that smile on his face. Sorbet just patted you on the back, his tone smooth but ultimately as terrifying.

“Oh, carina. We have so many more plans for you.” 

[bleachanimefan1]

Oblitus Part Seven Friends On The Other Side

An dead silence filled the room as nobody moved a muscle in fear of invoking the radio demon's wrath any further. Alastor stood frozen in his spot, still stunned, wondering what just happened. Mimzy quietly walked over to him.

"Al, are you okay?" She asked, worried.

"Yes, my dear. I'm just fine and dandy! Just a little mishap!" Alastor laughed as he brushed himself off with a strained smile on the face.

 "O-Okay." Mimzy said, nervously. 

 "A little mishap? That miserable little wretch practically rejected us!" Alastor microphone exclaimed, furiously. Alastor slammed the end his mic on the floor, silencing it.

He bent down and picked up his hat, dusting it off, then made it vanish into thin air. Then, snapped his fingers returning to his normal attire. Alastor turned his head back to where Anna had left. That wasn't an reaction he was expecting. Alastor laughed to himself.

Oh, how did she amuse him! He couldn't get enough with her facial expressions. True, he was furious that his act was ruined. Also the fact, that he was humiliated as he was broadcasting the whole show throughout the city. But, for some reason he just couldn't stay angry. He couldn't help but to be even more intrigued by the human. She was different from every female he had encountered. Her innocence, her naivness, how she practically rejected him by pushing him away with every advances he made with her. 

"This is going to be very entertaining indeed!" The radio demon said to himself. 

A shadowy figure appeared underneath Alastor's feet then manifested next to him, baring an resemblance to Alastor, with a scary grin on it's face.

 "Follow her and make sure that she doesn't do anything stupid." Alastor ordered the shadow. The dark silhouette said nothing as it quickly darted away leaving the club in search for it's prey.

Anna walked in the streets wrapping her arms herself trying to comprehend what just happened. Why did she reacted that way? She sighed as she looked down not looking where she was going. Suddenly, a bright headlight followed by an loud screech of a car's tires scratched the pavement. Anna screamed as she jumped out of the way as it nearly hit her. She stared like a deer caught in headlights at the car in shock. She frowned and gritted her teeth angrily.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" Anna shouted angrily. She kicked the car's bumper. "S-Stupid head!" She shouted, walking away as the car still parked where it was. Behind the wheel, was a man. He had short blond hair and was wearing a white top hat and suit with red linings, watching with a wicked grin on his face as the human woman walked off.

As Anna continued to walk, she heard someone calling out to her. She turned her head towards the voice. Her eyes widen in surprise to see Angel. The spider demon ran over to her, stopping in front of the human as he tried to catch his breath.

"Geez, where the hell were ya?!" Angel panted, still trying to steady his breathing.

 "Angel? Why are you here?" Anna asked, surprised to see him.

 "Charlie's been a nervous wreck after Smiles dragged you off. She and Vags sent me. So, here I am!" Angel explained until the spider demon noticed that Alastor wasn't anywhere to be seen. "Where's Smiles?" He asked.

 "I needed some space." Anna said, looking down at the ground. Angel snorted as he laughed.

"Man, I would give to see anything to see the look on Smile's face. I hate to be the poor sap who pissed him off." He laughed. Anna's eyes widen as her heart began to beat faster with dread.

 "W-What do you mean?" Anna asked looking at the spider demon. Angel made a smug grin.

 "Al, was broadcasting his song all over Pentagram City. I heard it while I was looking for you two." Angel said. "But, it sounded like he was interrupted near the end of his song."

Anna smiled nervously. "Y-Yeah, I'd hate to be them!" Angel stared at her for a moment before he draped his arm around Anna's shoulders, guiding her away.

 "Well, let's head back." He said. 

As the two were starting to walk away, something caught Angel's eye. He was a long white limo slowly driving up towards them.

"Shit..." He murmured.

"What is it?!-" Anna asked but she quickly cut off when a loud pop went off, that sound like firecrackers, by a machine gun.

Angel quickly grabbed Anna's hand pulling her as the two quickly out of the line of fire. He quickly ran, pulling Anna behind him, as the car began to chase after the two of them. The spider demon quickly turned corner after corner on the streets trying to lose the limo, but it still chased them. 

As the two rounded a corner, they quickly took cover in an alley hiding behind a dumpster. They heard the slow treads of wheels drive up then a voice called out.

"Angel Cakes, you can run but you can never hide from me. Come on out, I know that you're there." A harsh sultry voice said. Anna saw red smoke as it came around the dumpster, almost like it was beckoning her over to the limo. 

"Damn it!" The spider demon muttered as he cursed under his breath. He turned to Anna placing his hands on her shoulders making her look at him.

"I'm going to draw him off." He said, "Wait here until I come back." Anna's eyes widen and she quickly shook her head, not wanting to be left alone, especially in a place that she wasn't familiar with. But, she couldn't help but feel worried about the spider demon.

"What? No! Don't leave me here-" Anna was interrupted by Angel as he covered her mouth.

"Quiet! He'll hear you!" He hissed. Anna slowly nodded her head and Angel removed his hand from her mouth.

"I'll be fine." Angel winked. "I've had worse from Val before, ain't nothing that he can do that he hasn't done before."

"What has he done to you before?" Anna questioned. 

Angel froze as he began to wrap his arms around himself as he had a traumatize look on his face before it vanished in a split second. He shifted his gaze away looking else where instead of the human in front of him.

"I don't want to discuss it." He told her. Anna looked at at Angel with an empathetic look on her face. She reached out to him but Angel avoided her touch as he brushed Anna's hand off and stood up. From behind the dumpster, Anna heard Angel's footsteps as they started to retreat towards the limo. 

"I don't have all day, Angel!" 

"Alright, I'm coming! I'm coming! Hold your horses, Mista Val!"

"You know, I don't like waiting Angel." Anna heard the voice, which she assumed was Val's, growled angrily. Then she heard a sharp loud slap and Angel yell out, painfully. She covered her mouth as she tried not to make a sound. She heard Angel grunted in pain as loud hits came in contact. 

"I'm going to have to teach you a lesson, Angel Cakes. But, don't worry I won't have my prized porn star roughed up too badly."

Anna's eyes widen in surprise. 

"Angel's a prostitute?!" She thought to herself. "Then this Val guy must be his pimp." 

The beating continued on for what seemed like hours until it stopped. Then Anna heard Angel gasp in fear.

"Val, I'm sorry. Please, don't. I promise I'll come back! I'm sorry that I ran away!"

The sound of shuffling and clothes being ripped. It was soon followed by grunts coming from the two then panting. Anna's eyes widen in shock and disgust. She heard by the sound of Angel's voice that he was in pain. He wasn't enjoying any of it. Anna tried to fight back the bile that was slowly coming up her throat, trying not to throw up. She closed her eyes trying to block out the spider demon's cries of pain and pleasure.

"When I call you, I expect you to come, understand?"

"Yes, Mista Val." Angel groaned. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again, Val."

"When I say screw a client?"

"Yes, Mista Val!"

"When I say how hard to you want me to screw you, you say?"

"HARDER DADDY!" Angel exclaimed as he moaned out loudly. Anna shut her eyes tightly as she bit her lip trying not to yell. She wanted to help him but there was nothing she could do. She felt useless. 

"Good, I'm glad that we have an understanding." Anna heard Val said. "So, who was the pretty little thing that you were with?" Anna heard only silence before she heard Angel spoke.

"She just some dumb broad I met. I ditched her the moment I realized that she was dead weight." 

 "A shame. She would have make a fine addition to the club." Anna heard this Val's voice sighed, disappointed, then the sound of a car door open. "Get in, I have clients that are impatiently, waiting to meet you." 

Anna heard the sound of the car door slam shut and it drove off.

Anna felt eyes began to feel wet as she wiped the tears that were about to fall.

"Angel, why?" She thought to herself. As she placed her hand down she reeled it back and hissed in pain. She unclenched her hand to see a deep gash on the palm of her hand as blood began to ooze out from the cut. Anna looked down to see broken glass of a bottle next to her. 

She tore a strip of cloth from her shirt and wrapped it around the cut. She stood up and walked out from behind the dumpster heading towards the street to see where she was. 

"Hey what are you doing all by yourself?" A low voice said.

Anna gasped and quickly turned her head to see a large goblin like demon towering over her. She backed up only it to follow her.

"You smell strange." The demon said. Then his eyes trailed down to her wrapped hand. His eyes began to glow red and he licked his lips. "In fact, you smell delicious!"

"Leave me alone!" Anna cried out. She quickly bolted as the chase began. She looked over her shoulder to see the the demon still chasing her. Suddenly, she soon found herself on top of a rooftop of a building as she slammed the door shut behind her. She backed away only for the door to be busted open as the demon began to slowly advance towards her. As Anna backed away from the goblin like demon, the ground disappeared from underneath her feet. She screamed as she fell over the ledge. She quickly grabbed grabbed onto the edge.

 "Help!" Anna screamed.

She tried to pull herself up only to no avail as her fingers slowly started to slip from the ledge. Then she heard the sounds of the goblin demon screaming in agony and fear followed followed by a long dead silence. She struggled to pull herself up the ledge only to scream in shock as the demon's head landed right in front of her as it was tossed. 

She looked up and saw the radio demon standing over the mutilated body as it was torn and ripped to shreds beyond recognition.

 "Do I know you?" Alastor grinned turning his head with an amused look on his face. Anna looked at the demon with a disbelief look on her face. Her fingers were starting to slip slowly as she struggled to hold on to the ledge.

 "Help! I'm slipping!" She cried out.

 Alastor hummed as he thought for a moment, looking down at the dangling human below him. Then his smile turned into a twisted grin. "No, I don't think I will." 

 "What?" Anna gasped, struggling to hold on. 

 "After the stunt you pulled, why should I help you?" Alastor said as he leaned over the edge, supporting himself with his microphone. "However, I may reconsider, if..."

 "If what?" Anna asked, not liking where this was going.

 "If you make a deal with me." Alastor grinned darkly ear to ear. 

 "ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?" Anna shouted, angrily. "No way! Go to hell!"

Alastor laughed. "I already am!" 

 Anna's fingers where now at the tip of the ledge, as desperately tried to hold on. However, her strength gave away and her fingers slipped and she was now falling faster and faster towards the ground below.

"I really think you should take my offer, darling, or do you really want to die?!" Alastor called out as he shouted. What choice did she have? There was none...the ground was getting closer and closer.

 "WE HAVE A DEAL! SAVE ME, PLEASE!!!" Anna cried.

Alastor grinned darkly and quickly swooped down towards the woman. He reached his hand out, grabbing Anna's. A green glow surrounded them, engulfing the two.

Feet clacked on the hard cement of the sidewalk as Alastor landed gracefully holding Anna in his arms. He looked down, seeing that the human had passed out.

[treytheyouthguy]

From the Journal of Craven

(I’ve recently gotten to be apart of a new D&D Group from the Geeks Under Grace Community, and one of our players wrote a summary of the first session from the perspective of her character, and it got me wanting to attempt it myself. So here goes nothing!)

Name: Craven

Race: Kalashtar

Class: Barbarian (Eventually Path of the Totem Spirit)

Age: 25

Alignment: Lawful Good

Appearance: 6' 1", Dark Brown Shaggy Faux-Hawk Hair, Medium Length Well Kept Beard, Glowing Cerulean Eyes, Pale Skin

Fun Facts: Often will speak telepathically to strangers before meeting them to scare them. Has been apart of civilized society, but is somewhat socially awkward and often described as "literal". Sometimes talks to himself, or at least seemingly to himself.

It seems my travels have brought me to a city known as Galandel.

Usarus has led me to believe that we will find the help we need here, though he is getting less and less helpful. I swear, sometimes I think he likes to watch me get into strange circumstances and awkward situations.

I stumbled upon a scuffle in an alley involving a devil girl and a hooded figure. I attempted to ask the devil girl if she needed assistance, but I don’t think she likes intrusions of the mind, because she screamed at me in devil tongue.

Then, almost out of nowhere, a man claiming to be a champion of a deity named Tier? Tyr? Tire? named Valzan. He honestly looked just like the heroes from the book of stories father would read to me. The stories seemed to become even more real when he began to interrogate a ruffian. I surmised that the evil-doer was there to apprehend the devil girl.

Valzan seemed eager to help these two alley dwellers for some reason. The Devil-Girl seemed even more uneasy, yelling and calling the villain a “Slavers Lapdog”, which I couldn’t help but chuckle at. I once again attempted to establish a telepathic connection, but to no avail; the naughty nair-do-weller ignored my plea and was bent on making things worse. Two more bad men came from out of the shadows, and it was clear that this group was in for a fight.

I drew the blade that father gifted me as I became a man. I couldn’t help but think that he and mother would be proud of me: though I didn’t know these individuals, I was upholding the virtues instilled in me as a child.

I pulled my first swing, merely attempting to show that I meant business, but as I missed, I could feel Usarus’ rage coming over me. Father always taught me that if there was a way to settle a score without shedding blood, then to do so. However, the Spirit of the Forest was not as honorable, or at least not since the injustices that has fallen upon the Forest back home. His anger and fury bubbled like the stew from Mother’s cauldron.

The Heroic Valzan and the Angry Devil-Girl aided in the fight, and the Hooded Mystery Woman made sure to stand her ground, protecting the devil girl at all cost.

I could feel my body tensing up and my eyes radiating even brighter. My hands clenched the hilt of my blade ever-so-tightly, and I grit my teeth so tightly my gums began to bleed. I raised my blade high above my head, and I could hear my own voice inter-mingling with my Usarus’ as I bellowed, “YOU HAVE ANGERED THE SPIRIT OF THE FOREST!” My blade cut into the man in front me as if Usarus’ own razor sharp claw was mawing him. His torso was cleft in twain, and his blood sprayed across the brick walls between us.

I stood there, panting. I turned to see the spiritual visage of Usarus; he looked at the carnage and snorted, and then looked at me and nodded. It was as if the bloodshed pleased him.

I know that Usarus isn’t evil; he’s a protector. He can be gentle and kindhearted. He can even be playful. But lately his anger has overcome him, and he is becoming vengeful and stoic.

The other dispatched the other foe, and only one assailant remained. I had finally calmed down and rejoined reality.

Valzan literally scared the piss out of the man. I know for sure it was piss, I could smell it. But the fool decided to run. The Champiom Valzan took off and I followed. I liked his style, and desperately wanted to see how this ended.

By the time I caught up to them, the fool-hearty thug had gone limp on the ground, defeated.

Valzan complimented me, and I him. He then asked if I would take the bow shell of a man to something called the Church of Tyr. I asked what a Tyr was, but he just looked at me puzzled. I mean, I’d heard of churches, but had never been to one. Valzan was heading back to find the girls from the alley. I even tried asking the criminal now in a headlock under my arm who Tyr was, but he didn’t bother to answer.

Upon reaching the church, I was greeted by an elven woman named Alyssia. I took the man down stairs to the basement as instructed by Valzan and found out from Alyssia that apparently Tyr was a deity that she and Valzan worshipped. I had no idea that people worshipped deities! The people of my village thanked and served the Spirits like Usarus. I turned to ask Usarus about the deities, but he still wasn’t very talkative. I’m beginning to be worried about him at how long these bouts of stoicism were lasting.

Eventually my fateful allies made it to the Church and Alyssia offered us food. FOOD! Glorious food. The Devil-Girl, who was acting suspiciously cat-like, clearly wanted to eat, but was extremely timid. I tried offering her my father’s jerky, but she wasn’t having it. In retrospect, I may have knelt down and gotten a little too close when I offered.

After some convincing, the Hooded Mystery Woman convinced the Devil-Girl to eat. Later Valzan, the Mystery Woman, and myself descended to the basement to question our “guest”. Valzan asked if I wanted to be a “good cop or bad cop”, but I had no idea what that meant. He then asked if I wanted to hurt the captured criminal, and I obliged. I’m not a bad guy, but this man clearly was, and I’m pretty decent at hurting things.

Valzan poured water on the unconscious fellow, so I poured the whole barrel. Apparently that was not the way to go. Valzan payed the man a compliment, so I called him beautiful. Again, that was wrong. I could hear Usarus laughing at me, so I decided to let Valzan take the lead. The Hooded Mystery Woman held back, just watching.

The man was hired to “bring the Tiefling back to his employee”, but she had fought back and escaped. Fiery, that one, which is funny, what with her being a Devil-Girl and all. The man pleaded with Valzan and had decided to repent of his crimes and wanted to serve his time and be turned over to the authorities. I was stunned, but held my tongue, when Valzan went along with this. I mean, in the Forest, justice is decided by the strong and able creatures, and those who were weak and in the wrong suffered. But, Valzan was showing mercy. It was refreshing, honestly. I had shed quite a bit of blood in the name of “Justice”. So Valzan took the man to the proper authorities.

Upon his returning, Valzan and Alyssia explained what this church was, a place for the wronged where they could find peace and justice. They offered to let the Devil-Girl a home there. They assured her that she would be safe, fed, clothed, and that she would have her justice. The Devil-Girl seemed uneasy, and then the Hooded Mystery Woman spoke up and approached her, and for the first time, I could see the Devil-Girl resting easy, or at least somewhat. This Hooded Mystery Woman was helping her feel more comfortable.

So for the next week we all stayed together.

The Hooded Mystery Woman, or Strive as I found out her name was, seemed to have an affinity for caring for this Devil-Girl, who we took to calling her Shadow since she was glued to Strive like she was her personal Shadow. Valzan and Alyssia continued to be hospitable and accomplidating to us, as well as patrolling the streets to find evidence of the wrong-doers who descended on our little Shadow.

As for me, I just rested. I had been on such a long journey and constantly on the move that it was nice to just sit and catch my breath. Usarus finally spoke again and told me to stay put. “This group will help you find answers.” At night I would sift through the memories of my ancestors with the aid of Usarus, searching for any answers there may be for the plague that is descending on my home.

We eventually decided to leave the church and spread our wings. Alyssia stayed at the church, but Valzan served as our guide. He led us to an axe throwing game that I technically won, but decided to be chivalrous and neglected to accept the prize.....

Valzan accepted the prize offered which came in the form of free drinks at a near by tavern, which apparently is where a woman works that Valzan desperately needs to speak with. Shadow also stumbled upon some shiny glass. She liked shiny things. She reached for the glass, but Strive stopped her and Valzan offered a shiny bauble instead.

We first went to a library, which was recommended to stop at by Strive. I was happy to go, actually. I was able to ask the librarian about plagues and magics that affect plant life, and found a book on the history of plagues. I over heard Strive ask about herbalism and curitive properties and turned to Usarus. I said that she could help us, and he agreed. Finally, something to go on!

I approached her and asked about her help with my quest, and told her that I felt she was key. I blushed as I realized this may sound like I was courting her. I then stumbled over my words and finally walked away. I turned and yelled Usarus, exclaiming that he could’ve stopped me. He laughed. She laughed. I walked and check out my book, hanging my head in embarrassments shame. There was something about that woman, and it left me with my words tangled and trampled on the ground.

We then found an exotic pet store, but soon left after finding out that the OWNER WAS AN EVIL MAN! No bears?! Fine. But hedge-hogs are bear like?? USE SQUIRRELS AS BAIT!?! What a monster! I turned to Shadow and said we should leave! It was traumatic for us all.

We finally made it to the tavern on the top of the hill. We entered and Shadow immediately went to a table. The rest of us followed and soon the very woman Valzan had saught after came to take our orders. I ordered all of the sweets they had in an attempt to win over Shadow, and after Valzan asking to speak to the woman alone, we had our food and Valzan was asked to wait until things weren’t as busy. We sat and began to enjoy our food, but suddenly an elderly unkept man burst through the door, exclaiming that his daughter had been taken. Our group began to ask for details, when the entire tavern erupted in laughter.

Things are getting strange.....

[confessionsofafuckingpervert]

Confession #17. The gangbang.

So let me backtrack a little bit. 

After the night when I was with M after fucking B, B was super pissed at me. It was interesting how M was totally fine with it, but B felt wronged. After all, M was the one licking B’s ass taste off my cock, but she was into it.

It took some conversation, but B came around eventually. She was fine with cheating on her bf with me, and she knew I was married. She just didn’t realise she wasn’t the only slut in my life, and once she came around to it, we were ok again.

B and I talked about escalating things, and she started going out of her way to impress me, doing whatever I asked, dropping whatever she was doing to be a good sub/slut/slave for me. I think she was really trying to make me prioritise her over M, and she would message me everyday, horny shit to turn me on. To be honest, sometimes it was exhausting, especially hiding it from my wife all the time.

So... My best friend used to host a weekly poker game. We’d sit around and drink bourbon and play cards. It was a guys only night. There were usually 4-5 of us, and we’d all sit around and tell war stories, and gamble our tips from work (we were all bar tenders at different places). We were all married or had girlfriends. My friend had a girl, but they didn’t live together, so we always played at his place.

So usually I’d get a cab to and from these games, but one week B was hitting me up to meet, so when it came time to leave, instead of booking a cab I told B the address and got her to pick me up instead. She drove me home, but on the way we parked in a nearby alley to fuck. The following week the same thing happened, and I thought, cool, this is a great way to keep things going. Of course I’d told my poker buddies about her, and they were all a bit jealous.

The following week B was hitting me up earlier than usual. I’d already messaged her that I was gonna be at my friends place again, and that she could pick me up like the previous two weeks. She kept sending me pics of her pussy and saying she couldn’t wait. She wanted to come early. So I told her to come, and I’d come out and see her for a blowjob, and then she could wait until later to fuck. She was there half an hour later begging me to come out and feed her some cum.

So I told my friends I’d be back in a bit, that I had to deal with something, and I went outside. She was parked across the road, and it was a pretty quiet, dark suburban street. I jumped in the car, we kissed, then she hungrily tore my jeans open and swallowed my dick. My buddy texted me about 5 minutes later, asking me if I was ok. My plan was to cum in her throat and head back inside, but it just dawned on me that I could have way more fun if I brought her inside. So I pulled her head off my dick, and told her to fix her makeup, and said, “you know what, I want you to come inside and meet my friends”. 

When I got inside, my friends were all a bit surprised. I introduced her, and they all knew that she was the girl I'd been fucking after our games each week. She was shy as fuck, which was so out of character for her. She was usually very outgoing, verging on bratty. So she sat on my knee at the card table, and we played a few more hands. The guys kept making innuendo, and sleazy one liners, and I was feeling up her pussy and tits while we played, and she kept kissing my neck and calling me Sir... It was really hot.

So my buddy went all in on a bet. I had a good hand, but I was down and didn’t have enough to see him. I looked at B, and thought, why not... I said, “I'll see you, but I’m short, so I’ll offer up my slut to make up the difference”. As I said it, I ran my fingers over her clit, under her skirt, and she was wet as fuck. She looked at me worried, but I just smiled and said, “don’t worry baby”.

Anyway. I lost. My buddy had cleared me out.

B looked at me, “Sir?” she said with a waver of worry in her voice.

I gestured at my friend, “looks like you’re his now. Maybe you should go sit on his knee”.

So she did. He ran his hands over her body and nodded in approval. “Very nice”, he said. Then he told her to give him a kiss. She looked at me questioningly, and I nodded. They kissed, deep and sensually, and the table hollered. He looked at the rest of us and said, “I might sit the next hand out guys.”

I began to deal the cards to the other 3 guys. All eyes were on B. As she made out with my friend and he groped her tits and ass. It was getting hot and heavy and then he said, “So, I hear you give really good sloppy head...” There was a pause, as he ran his fingers through her hair, all of us watching expectantly. She nodded slowly, and my friend spread his legs and gripped her head. The eye contact was intense between them. She moved into position, on her knees, between his legs. I heard him say “good girl”. The other guys were all staring, as my friend undid his pants and pulled out his hard dick in front of all of us. B wasted no time. She licked it from base to tip and the went to town swallowing the whole thing. The guys started cheering as she blew my best friend. The card game was over.

My friend looked at me, and he said “dude, this bitch is hot”. Then looking around the room, and then back to B, he said, “I think everyone should have turn”. She spat out the cock, and looked over at me. I couldn’t help but laugh a little. I said “you’re the centre of attention now, baby”. My friend stood up and dragged her by the hair over to the couch, where he sat down and kept her on her knees on the floor. He lifted her top off and then got her mouth back on the dick.

I came up behind her, and lifted her skirt. B never wore panties when she came to see me, and her pussy was soaking wet. The other guys came and joined my friend on the couch, one on either side and one sat in another chair to watch. I started licking her cunt from behind, and my friends all took their pants off, getting their hard dicks out. B moaned so loud. She had a cock in her throat and one in each hand, and my tongue in her hole. I looked at my other friend who was left out, and said, “she’s wet as fuck... you wanna go first?”. He came over and I sat back down and watched as he fucked her from behind while the 3 guys on the couch took turns in her wet mouth. I got naked and sat back, watching, stroking myself slowly as the guys took their turns on her. Swapping positions, everyone had a go of her cunt and mouth.

After a while I spoke up and told her to come over to me. She crawled over on her knees and started sucking my dick. My best friend got up behind her and started fucking her. He stood over her and held her head down on my cock as he fucked her. She gagged and moaned and came, convulsing in a mess all over the floor. I got down onto the floor and pulled her over to straddle me and ride my cock. She started to ride, and my best friend was putting it back in her mouth. Then one of the guys asks “Do you do anal baby?” She looked at me, and I nodded, but she said “please, not tonight Sir, I’m not ready”. So We decided to just keep it pussy and mouth for the rest of the night.

We took turns spit roasting her over the coffee table, she came loud a bunch of times, and we all came in her mouth. She swallowed everything and thanked us repeatedly for every drop. The guys left, and in the end it was just me and B and my best friend, sitting around. I told her that we would be expecting her at next week’s game night. She drove me home, and we made plans for the following week. And that is a story for another time.

[whenimaunicorn]

Nothing Good Comes After Midnight

Fandom: Wynonna Earp Characters: Bobo Del Rey, Original Female Character Rating: Explicit, please don’t read if you’re not 18+ Words: 2909

I didn’t have an exit strategy. In fact, as I stared back into his heavy gaze, I realized that I didn’t particularly want one. Wynonna thought that she could just ditch me for an idiot guy tonight… well I found my own idiot. Without breaking eye contact, I lifted the straw in my drink up to my mouth and took a good long sip while starting to ride Bobo’s lap to the beat.

Full Fic:

Fuck Purgatory and their not-having an open container law. I would have left, after realizing my friend had just ditched me to go home with her ex while I was in the bathroom, but I had ordered one more expensive cocktail before I checked my phone and got her drunken message. While I was pissed to be left alone at the bar, there was no way I was leaving without drinking what I’d paid for.

But I could feel the sharks circling in the water behind me. It was late enough in the night that any young woman alone on a barstool was gonna get mobbed. The first two guys buzzed off fairly easily after I straight-up growled at them, and then the front door slammed open.

There was something familiar about the scruffy, biker-looking guys that strutted in. Their eyes raked over the whole place, seeming unimpressed with all of us. I definitely knew the guy that walked in after them. Bobo Del Rey, the most fearsome revenant around. He was basically my friend Wynonna’s arch-enemy. There was no mistaking that thick, mohawk-cut hair, those steely eyes, the hulking presence. Did I say arch-enemy? More like arch-hottie.

And he saw me. His goons had failed to remember me and my associations, but the boss-man didn’t miss anything. He gave me a glare that could have meant any number of things, then walked with his crew over to an empty table at the back.

I thought that sense of ‘blood in the water’ was strong before. The back of my neck practically prickled now, though every time I turned to look over at Bobo, he wasn’t paying any particular attention to me at all. One of his boys had grabbed a bucket of beers and they were all just kind of sitting around. Creepy.

He was throwing me off my carefully composed “back the fuck off before I get stabby-stabby” vibes, too. Some sloppily-dressed man with an unkempt ponytail was sprawled over the barstool next to me, babbling and thinking he was getting somewhere.

“It’s a real anaconda, baby, you gotta come back to my place and see it,” he slurred into my ear. I wasn’t sure if he was talking about his dick or an actual snake; I had definitely not been paying any attention to him.

When he finally began to comprehend my lack of interest, he got mean. “What, you think you can do better than me tonight? You can’t be waiting for someone.”

My eyes slipped over to Bobo’s corner, involuntarily.

“Him?”

Something snapped inside me at his tone. “You know what? Yeah. Him.” I snatched my drink off the counter, still mostly full thanks to everyone’s inability to leave me alone and let me fucking enjoy it, and started stalking right over toward the gang of revenants.

Bobo’s eyes tracked me as I strode across the room. The jukebox was playing a wild woman anthem, the beat bold and infectious, and it put some swing into my hips. I let it. Didn’t I deserve to have some kind of fun tonight? Maybe make a bad decision too?

One of Bobo’s thugs made an aggressive posture at my approach, starting to stand, but the boss stilled him with a hand. They knew I was part of Wynonna’s crew. But as I had hoped, tonight Mr. Del Rey didn’t seem to care. He stared at me from under heavy brows and waved me on to approach him with a sharp flick of his wrist.

There were no seats left empty at his table, so I had to ask. “Can I sit with you?”

Bobo looked me up and down, with a sly little twist to his lip. “Maybe if you sit on my dick,” he growled.

Another bubble of irritated energy popped inside me. I stepped right up to him and swung my leg over his lap before my better self could catch up. And by then, I was committed. Bobo’s notched brows climbed to his hairline as I plopped down straddling his hips. I’d call his fucking bluff. I ground myself against his crotch in tight, exaggerated circles. “Oh yeah? Where is it? Can’t seem to find anything.”

Bobo snarled. His hands came down on both my hips, fingers curling hard. But instead of throwing me off, he took control of my movements and rocked me against him a few times more, slower and more in time to the music. “Keep moving like that, darlin’, and it’ll hit you.”

I didn’t have an exit strategy. In fact, as I stared back into his heavy gaze, I realized that I didn’t particularly want one. Wynonna thought that she could just ditch me for an idiot guy tonight… well I found my own idiot. Without breaking eye contact, I lifted the straw in my drink up to my mouth and took a good long sip while starting to ride Bobo’s lap to the beat.

His pupils dilated as he watched me, as he felt me. His fingers slid slowly along my rocking hips. I tried to play it cool, sipping on my drink and glancing around the room, a little overwhelmed by the sizzle in his gaze. That, and the heat building up between my own legs. I’m not ashamed to say that when my clit rubbed up against some stiff fold in his pants I repeated the angle, working myself up even as I felt something start to poke against my inner thigh.

“Last call!” a gruff voice shouted over the noise of the bar. “Last call for alcohol.”

Bobo’s smile turned conspiratorial, then he looked past me. “How about a round of shots, Lou.” One of the thugs got up and pushed his way up to the suddenly-crowded bar.

“So, Y/N. You’ve certainly got my attention.” He shifted underneath me, and with a quick swipe of his hand the hard line that had been forming along Bobo’s thigh was moved to a more central location. With his grip on my hips he coaxed me to settle back down over it. I was glad I had chosen such thin pants to wear out tonight; I could feel every inch of him against my whole slit now, and goddamn did it feel good. “So, what’s your plan.”

“Hm?” I gave him a questioning look.

“Your little crew is always up to something.” He leaned his forehead in closer to my own, looking hard even though his fingers were playful along the hem of my shirt. “Is this the newest attempt to pump ol’ Bobo for information?”

A grin cracked my face. “Play your cards right, and I’ll be pumping you for something,” I cackled. Just couldn’t resist that opening. The laugh turned to a nervous giggle as Bobo’s face remained stoic. “No,” I amended swiftly, “nothing like that.”

“Good, because I don’t appreciate tricks.”

I leaned in, the spiking sense of danger only adding spice to the erotic charge in this corner of the bar. “I’m just a girl having a bad night, trying to figure out how to make it a little bit better.”

Bobo’s smile was slow and thick. “Mmm,” he purred as he brushed his nose along my cheek, “I can think of a few things that might help with that.”

I tilted my chin and that was all the invitation he needed to press his lips into mine. His beard was softer than I expected, sliding across my cheek before his tongue parted my lips. Bobo tasted like dark chocolate, charcoal, and mistakes that still feel kind of worth it in the morning. One of his hands spread across the back of my neck, holding me close, while the other slipped underneath my shirt. I responded by popping open the button on his jeans.

When the bartender says ‘last call,’ you don’t waste time.

The bottom of my shirt was shoved up over my tits when Lou came back with the shots. Bobo’s fingers were playing with the scalloped lace of my plunge-line bra. I tried to cover back up before turning to accept my shot glass, but Bobo’s hands curled over my own. “Let the boys have a little show,” he rumbled.

My nipples hardened at the dirty glory of the idea. I leaned back from my position on Bobo’s lap, letting my smile hang wide and sloppy as I twisted with my rack hanging out of my shirt and reached out for my drink.

Lou’s eyes were hungry. So were the rest of the boys, grinning like circling sharks as they watched the debauchery playing out in their boss’s lap. It was equal parts hot and frightening.

“Bottoms up,” Bobo said, drawing my attention back to him. The amber liquid flowed easily down my throat; it was shitty whiskey but when you hang out with Wynonna you kind of become a pro at knocking back cheap shots. Bobo’s lips were wet and I leaned in to lick the last of the burning liquor off of them.

The friction between our hips was getting unbearable, and between the gaze of ‘the boys’ and the fresh alcohol tingling through my limbs, I was dying to move. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” I purred into Bobo’s ear, then nipped his earlobe for good measure. We couldn’t do much more than we already had without getting kicked out of the bar, anyway.

“You got it, darlin’,” he drawled, and then seized the bottom of my ass with both hands. I felt his muscles clench gloriously between my thighs and then he was standing, with me still wrapped around his waist and squealing in delight. “Excuse me boys, I’ve gotta step out and take care of something.”

We made it halfway down the alley at the side of the building before Bobo pressed me into the wall and started assaulting my mouth and neck again. I felt the press of his erection under my suspended thighs and this time I regretted the choice of pants, rather than a skirt. How glorious it would have felt if he could just sink in to me right the fuck now.

He pawed at the barrier between us, as much as he could while still holding me up off the ground, and then made a frustrated groan. He put me down and before I could even get my balance, turned me to face the wall. One big hand slid down inside my pants, cupping my ass, fingers questing deeper between my legs. “You want me right now?” he all but snarled.

“Fuuuck,” I hissed as his fingertips pressed between my slick inner labia. He made a wordless noise with a similar tone as he played with the wetness I had ready for him there.

Two fingers found their way deeper, penetrating into needy flesh and making it hard for me to remember language was a thing that I could use to answer his question. I pressed myself over his hand and moaned, my own palms pressed against the cold concrete of the wall just so I could keep my balance. “Yeah.”

Bobo finger-fucked me a little harder, then slowed. “Yeah, what?” He nipped at my ear and I could see the flash of white teeth set in a smirk in the moonlight.

I squirmed over his hand. “Yeah, I want you.”

He loomed over me even more. “Want me to what.” His fingers pistoned and I let myself moan like a whore, egging him on.

“Want you to fuck me, Bobo Del Rey.”

“Good girl.” He wrenched my pants down past my knees, bit the side of my ass hard while he was down there, and got his erection of out of his pants faster than I would have thought possible. The line of his body came to cover mine against the wall, and he nipped the back of my neck like a dominant animal while he lined his hardness up against my cunt.

Bobo was thick enough that he didn’t exactly slide in easy. He kicked my feet apart, as wide as they could go with my pants still around my ankles, and pressed me to bend over until I was presented to him properly. Then he worked himself in, every inch a delicious stretch that overwhelmed the rest of my senses. “Fuck, Bobo!” I squealed. 

His big hand clamped over my mouth.

“Don’t call attention,” he growled, and kept his hand there to muffle my screams as he rutted into me faster, more thoroughly. It was all I could do to press my hands into the wall against his pressure and try to keep my cheek from slamming into it as he fucked me within an inch of my life.

He could hear just enough of my whimpering cries under his smothering palm to notice when I was getting close to coming. I needed only a little something more to get there.

He let up the intensity just a fraction, so he could take his hand off my mouth. “Stay quiet now, baby girl,” he said, and reached down to find my clitoris.

It was clumsy, but it was all that I really needed. I swallowed a moan or two as he resumed the punishing pace with his cock, now driving my hips into the counterpressure of his strong fingers on that magic button. My orgasm boiled up fast and hard and I held my breath for the entire duration, not trusting myself not to scream at the joy of it.

I went a little limp when it was over, gulping in air with ragged breaths while Bobo continued to rut into me. The aftershocks were making my whole body sizzle. With a sudden hiss, the villain pulled out and pushed me down to my knees.

I turned willingly enough, sure that I knew what he was after. The discomfort of bare knees on the alley pavement only added a little submissive spice to the experience. Bobo had his cock in hand, pointed right between my eyes, and I knew I only had a moment to make my play.

I figured Bobo was like most guys, eager to blast me in the face like this was a porn video. But slutty as I am, I draw the line at calling a cab at the end of the night with cum still stuck in my hair. Just as he seemed ready to blow, I wrapped my hand around his shaft and made his fat head disappear in my mouth.

Bobo made a noise that was both surprised and pleased, and in just three eager, wholehearted sucks I had him groaning through his teeth as his cock jumped and sprayed against the roof of my mouth. I held him there even when it was done, all the way through his spasming, trembling finish. I always loved this moment, knowing I’d brought a powerful man to ‘the little death,’ and for this instant in time, at least, he was putty in my hands.

When he started to pull himself out of my mouth I pursed my lips, sucking him clean and making sure no stray drops were going to dribble out and mess up my shirt. I was still holding his cum in my mouth, as was my habit, ready to spit it out as soon as the way was clear.

But the demon was paying attention. His palm pressed over my lips, fingers wrapping around my jaw. “You’re going to swallow it,” he ordered. That little spike of humiliation was like icing on the cake of this whole wild evening. I looked Bobo right in the eyes and made a big show of gulping his seed down. His answering smile made it worth it too, that smug, masculine look guys get when they feel like their cum went into places they could be proud of.

Then, in a surprisingly gentlemanly gesture, he helped me to my feet.

I almost regretted putting my pants back on. If we had been in a more comfortable location, that last little exchange would have inspired me to get started on a round two. At least to convince him to eat me out. But looking up at Bobo’s wild and imposing silhouette in this moonlit alley, I didn’t think it was a good time to press my luck.

His hand was kneading the back of my neck softly as I re-dressed beside him. Awareness of my surroundings returning, I felt my guard coming back up. Most likely I was about to regret all of this, no matter how blazing hot the encounter had been; better not to drag it out. I stepped out from under his hand, avoiding his eyes and moving toward the main street.

“Can I call on you some time?” Bobo asked, surprising me again with his softness. But plenty of tough guys got that way, after.

I looked up at him with a cold smirk that would have made Wynonna proud. “Oh no, we are definitely chalking this one up to temporary insanity.”

He stiffened, eyes narrowing. “Back to enemies again, in the morning?”

I nodded. “Couldn’t be any other way.”

He cocked his head to the side, the lines of his mohawk amplifying the wild effect of the gesture. He glanced quickly at the sky. “Got a few hours left before daylight, then. Wanna make the most of it, come back with me to my trailer?”

More Bobo here

Taglist:  @allsharingonebreath, @demoncrypt1066​, @writingfromasgard​, @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen​, @peachieowl @savismith​ @ceridwenofwales @equalstrashflavoredtrash​ @ivarinleatherpants​ 

[jeanstoppable]

17th & 18th OF OCTOBER

hop, step, jump

fuck your pride

(A/N: Fun fact! This oc is based on a dream of mine AND they exist on the same universe as Yelena/Yasemin, my villain oc. Now, buckle up cause it’s time for some Cyberpunk goodness.)

Supposedly, there’s an unspoken rule that whatever background you came from, rich or piss poor or somewhere in between, as long as you end up in the streets, you’ll always be at the bottom of the system. Unless you fight your way up---that is to say, if you survive the climb.

“Hey!” A voice called out from behind.

I stopped walking and peeked over my shoulder, expecting trouble that’s usually present around these parts to have finally found me and lo and behold, a bunch of ‘thugs’ were waiting at the entrance of the alley. Four people differentiating in sizes, three men and one woman, their dark silhouettes painted by the bright neon lights behind them were nothing short of intimidating. 

My eyes darted to the walls of the two surrounding buildings, measuring the distance between each window, the extending pipes and the height of both structures. Scalable. There was also that fire exit just ahead, I reminded myself as I mulled over what will happen within the next 10 minutes. 

A fight, no doubt.

I glanced at the floating holographic numbers on my wrist, taking into account the time and---the meeting that was about to start soon.

Escaping might be the more reasonable choice but...

I hate taggers.

Blowing out a rough sigh, I turned my attention back to the group who was now leisurely cruising towards me, wearing devilish grins and haughty gazes. Some of them were even cracking their knuckles while exchanging unashamed jabs about having first dibs grated on my ears---and my nerves.

Oh boy. Things are about to get interesting.

My lips curled into a snarl as I repressed the overwhelming urge to be the one to draw first blood. Instead, I focused on scrutinising them individually from top to bottom: their gadgets, clothes, bags, shoes. Anything of importance at all that I can lift and hopefully sell.

It only took a moment to finish the assessment, if you know how to estimate things from face value. 

After gathering enough information, I spun to fully face them, smirking provokingly as I loosened the straps of my bag, letting it hang on my fingers and then swinging it.

“Alright, assholes!” I whistled cheerfully before letting the venom bleed into my tone, “Whoever’s got first dibs, you’re up.”

Each of them looked taken aback for a second but then their expressions darkened, my words finally registering as insults, as they should, and then immediately charged forward.

I halted the swinging of my bag.

It was the slightly skinny man that approached me first, I figured he was the leader or something along those lines because he was the one barking the most---however… I narrowed my eyes and observed as the man tossed his shoulder back and aimed a fist at my face. I ducked to avoid it, then I tightened my grip on the straps of my bag and swung it to his side, hitting him square in the ribs----accompanied by a distinct crack and a metal clanking noise.

The man howled in pain as his body smashed into the wall to the left.

One down. Ignoring the groans, I stepped over the crumpled man’s legs and stared down the group with a raised chin. 

I huffed and then pointedly tilted my head at the others, “Next?”

The second one didn’t hesitate to attack, taking on the challenge. There was an enraged expression on his face as he reached forward with knees bent and back lowered while his arms went wide to try and trap me in a grapple. Seeing through him, I grabbed my bag with both hands, feeling the solid weight of the robotics inside, and rushed forward to match the man’s attack. 

Right before his arms would’ve caught me, I clutched the bag close and whacked it in his face, successfully causing him to lose balance. 

Taking advantage of this, I lifted a boot and launched a strike to his thigh, swiftly bringing him to his knees. Without a second to waste, I twisted on my heels to deliver the final kick to the side of his head, waiting for the satisfying thud of his body hitting the ground---

There was a blur of shadow to my right and before I knew it, excruciating pain bloomed in my stomach. 

The third came quicker than I anticipated, it was the woman, who didn’t wait for the fight to finish as she sneaked up on me and ruthlessly swung the bat directly to my gut. I hit the ground a second later after the previous guy did, landing on my ass hard. Fucking ouch. 

I shot a glare at the woman and within her grasp was the source of my injury, which was a goddamn light-up metal baseball bat.

“Bitch, don’t get ahead of yourself.” The woman hissed.

My blood’s boiling even more now. I bit the inside of my cheek to hold in the groan that was about to escape me as I willed myself to get up, slightly making it look like I’m struggling more than I actually was and then ripped off the mask covering half my face. 

Hook, line and sinker.

Puffing proudly, she took a step forward closer and was about to pitch another hit when I hastily seized my arms around her hips and forcefully pushed, knocking the woman off her feet as she fell backwards on the asphalt. I wasted no time to straddle her, trying to wrestle off the bat from the woman’s tight grip, but what the hell, she wasn’t letting go at all.

Letting out a frustrated growl, I took a hold of her collar, pulled it towards me, and then spat the blood that I’ve been purposely pooling in my cheeks in her face. 

As expected, she shrieked in shock and disgust, momentarily forgetting about the bat and easing her hold on it---

Now! 

Jumping into action, I snatched the bat, wrapping it around my fingers and drove its hilt straight to her forehead, knocking the woman unconscious as she slumped to the ground without any further hassle.

“Fuck...Goodnight to you.” I grumbled out, panting and breathing heavily before I steeled myself to glance at the last person left. 

“Okay, one more.” One more and then I’m fucking going home.

It was another man, his frame was slightly wider and larger than the others I’d beaten so far. He stood only a few meters away and I swear he hasn’t moved an inch since the beginning. Enjoying the show? I almost wanted to say but kept it in as I studied him a bit more.

So he’s the boss.

I slowly got to my feet, not taking my eyes off the man as I flaunted the newly acquired weapon to my side, the bat’s cool metal surface feeling quite nicely in my palm.

“Ready when you are,” I said with a raised brow and a cocked hip.

He regarded me for a few seconds, his face hidden in the shadows, before bringing up a hand to his right arm and surprising me by tearing away at the sleeve, the cloth ripping into ribbons to reveal---a bionic limb.

My gaze brightened. Bingo.

While he probably saw me dead, I saw him...as a means of profit. 

A smile took over my features, “That might sell a pretty penny,” I coughed out.

The man let out a savage cry as he shot forward, his robotic arm poised to strike and or grab. I counted his heavy footsteps as I prepared the bat and gripped it with both hands, waiting for him to get closer. 

Once he got near, I noticed traces of a smile dancing on his lips---Fuck, too late---and then his forearm suddenly popped off its socket. Those metal fingers soared and latched themselves around my bicep, squeezing painfully. I grit my teeth, thinking it would bruise later if he didn’t let up soon. 

But the man wasn’t done yet. His eyes glinted dangerously and pulled on the wire connecting the detachable limb to the rest of his bionic arm.

I panicked as I got yanked roughly by my bicep, “Shit…!” Cursing my luck, I tried hitting him with the bat but it lacked enough momentum to actually do damage. So he merely stopped the attack with his other arm and smacked the weapon out of my grasp.

I was being slammed into a wall the next second, a pained gasp slipping out of me whilst black spots swam in my vision, just barely registering the man’s words.

“Where’s that bravado now, huh?” The man sneered, bringing his face real close to mine.

I cringed at the distance, wishing I hadn’t taken off my mask earlier, and clutched him by the nape---then crashed my forehead against his. I knew it would take much more than a headbutt to release me but I only intended to disorientate him.

That small moment of distraction was all I needed to snake my free arm around my back as I grabbed something from the hem of my pants and pulled it out by its handle.

“Right here, fucker.”

I brandished the weapon in front of me and clicked on the switch, the buzz of electricity split the air as the stun baton hummed with power, producing small yet lethal blue sparks.

The man paled. I grinned.

Before he could protect himself, I arched the baton and jammed it into a narrow gap in his bionic arm. The reaction was instantaneous as those metal fingers involuntarily opened and dropped uselessly, the electronics inside malfunctioning. The man himself was in shock, never getting the chance to see the punch heading straight for his nose. 

I bitterly smiled whilst hearing a satisfying crack the moment my fist landed.

I shoved against his chest, pushing him back a couple of steps as he held his bleeding nose, “Y-you...you bitch...!” 

I stared at him, my expression impassive, and shook my head.

“This’ll fuckin’ hurt,” I say to him before zipping forward, baton ready to strike once more.

. . . 

It was the memories that motivated me, helped me get up in bed every single day, the reason for me to keep going and going---because they were the only permanent things I have left in my life. 

I tucked away the stolen bionic arm inside my bag along with the rest of what I managed to collect today. My eyes shuttered as I remembered a rather specific memory: my younger self and my father having multiple discussions about our extremely flawed society, still is, and the people who run the streets, making an adamant point about never stooping to their level. 

If only I knew back then how people, including us, will react when faced with complete desperation and defeat..

It was a lesson I had to learn quite painfully.

A merciless beating and almost bleeding half to death behind some old abandoned factory. 

“Fuck your pride.” They spat and then just left, taking off with my shit. Everything I owned.

That was 3 years ago. 

“Fuck my pride, huh...” I bit back darkly, “Might as well fuck everyone else’s too.”

I did one final sweep at the bodies littering in the alley before running towards the fire exit stairs, hauling myself up and up, the wound on my stomach burning by the time I made it to the building’s rooftop and just leaned against a wall to rest a bit.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Without looking, I swiped a finger across my wrist.

It needed a few seconds for the transmission to go through and then a familiar scolding voice boomed in my ears, 

“Where the hell are you? The meeting’s about to begin.”

That damned meeting.

“...Can’t I just skip it?” I rasped, my voice sounding foreign even to me.

There was a pause and I held my breath.

“Get your ass over here,” the voice growled out and I resisted the urge to groan in defeat, “You’re not missing the meeting twice in a row.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way.” 

. 

.

.

“...Is it okay if I’m a bit late?”

“Get moving.”

(A/N: AHHHH, I’M HAVING FLASHBACKS TO MY UNRELEASED TOKYO GHOUL FIC. Anyways, I kinda lowkey love writing action. I swear it’s because of the Cyberpunk theme in this. I hope ya’ll enjoyed this, I might want to expand more on this character’s lore, there’s tons to unpack, so be ready for that! ALSO IM LATE LIKE REALLY LATE SO YEAH PEACE)

[squiddtheekidd]

Save Our Souls

Summary: Nikki is a simple man. He likes music, drugs, alcohol, and blood

(Nobody, absolutely nobody: me: you're right I should write a motley crue vampire fic for spooky szn)

Warnings: Alcohol use, drug use, SMUT, and blood mention

P.s. I wrote this on my phone plz be nice

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Nikki's POV

"That's right. Good girl" I praised the woman sliding her hands down my body to undo the ties on my leather pants as she sank to her knees in front of me.

Perhaps the alley was a horrible place to do this, but it was just dark enough to cast darkness over their features so you couldn't tell who was getting a blowjob, you just knew SOMEONE was getting a blowjob. I hissed as she took me into her mouth slowly taking me deeper into her mouth and humming around my cock. I fisted a hand in her hair getting fed up with the slow pace and bobbed her head up and down at a speed more my liking. She gazed up at me and moaned once more around the head of my dick and I came into her mouth. She quickly swallowed me up and licked me clean of any evidence before getting her footing again.

"Thanks baby I had fun" she winked and started to walk away.

"Woah woah woah I'm not done with you and I have 10 minutes until I have to be on stage" I grabbed her wrist and turned her so she was pinned against the wall with her back to me.

"I've never met a man that can fuck right after cumming" she moaned as my hand danced across her chest and up to her neck to steady her.

"Well baby, I'm no regular man" I chuckled darkly and covered her mouth as I sank my teeth into the flesh of her neck. She panicked at first, as they all do, but then the euphoric high feeling that comes from being bitten by us washed over her body and she relaxed in my hold. Once I'd had enough to tide me over I licked her neck clean and spun her around to face me. She had the same look in her eye that most drunk women get and I held her chin steady to look me in the eye.

"You were great tonight baby. You can tell everyone I rocked your world" she nodded her head as if it weighed a million pounds

"Dude come on stop toying with her we gotta get on stage" Tommy yelled from the back of The Whiskey.

"I'm coming I'm coming" I hollered back. "Enjoy the show baby, your daze will end here in the next 5 minutes" And with that I left her to regain her senses, albeit with some temporary memory loss.

"Do you children have to feed before every show?" Mick huffed as they packed up their equipment after the show.

"I like the adrenaline rush it gives me before going on stage" I shrugged nonchalantly.

"Dude sex is just so much better if you feed during it" Tommy laughed out high fiving myself and Vince while Mick just rolled his eyes at us.

"Speaking of.." Vince said trailing off and directing his attention to a few of the girls at the bar watching us. Vince had a rich bitch girlfriend, but that never stopped him from fucking the groupies. To be fair having girlfriends never stopped any of us from banging and feeding off of groupies.

"That blonde has been staring at me all night. I'm gonna invite her to the apartment for the after party" Vince hopped off the stage and jogged over to the chick on the stool. She gestured to what I assumed were her friends and Vince seemed to be inviting them as well. Good, I loved a variety pack when I feed.

"You coming tonight Mick?" I directed my attention to the older guitarist. Mick rarely joined us due to his possessive girlfriend wanting to be the only one he fed from, and she was fucking mean.

"Yeah I'll come tonight. She's already pissed at me anyway" he sighed packing his guitar away.

Our apartment was a degenerates wet dream. We held parties here so often the door had to be nailed shut from the cops kicking it down, so we came in and out the window. We almost never had real food in our place, but we always had alcohol and drugs. Where there's alcohol and drugs there is chaos and we fucking thrive in it.

"Dude check this out you guys are gonna fucking freak" I hear Tommy say to the people at our makeshift table in the midst of me lighting my arm on fire. It was a trick we were trying to perfect for on stage and I got a kick out of everyone's reactions when my leather clad arm went up in flames. I looked over to see Tommy starting to go down on a girl that hung around here from time to time and let him drive her car.

"Aye Vince hurry it up Tommy's gonna do the thing" I rasped on the bathroom door that was muffling the sound of skin slapping skin.

"Are you aware your arm is still on fire?" A voice came from the corner near the shelf that housed all my records.

"Oh yeah I guess it is" I patted my arm and put the small lingering flame out and flashed her small smirk. "I'm Nikki"

"I'm not interested" she replied in a bored tone and walked away toward the kitchen.

What the fuck was that about?

I hardly had time to collect my thoughts on what happened when Vince clasped a hand on my shoulder bringing me back to reality. Taking the bottle of Jack off the counter we took position right next to our table and watched as Tommy put on a show.

"Here it comes" he hollered and the girl shot cum across the living room making everyone at the party lose their minds.

Still bristling over the girl from earlier I quickly scan the room and make eye contact with some chick sitting on our couch that smiles and waves eagerly when she sees me. Good, an easy meal. I chug some Jack down and grab her hand pulling her into the bathroom with me. I don't waste time getting to know her name and I'm pushing her against the door hungrily catching her lips with my own. She returns the same urgent energy and is already a panting mess. I push her skirt up on her hips and bring my hand to the slick warm area between her legs that has no underwear coverage.

"Damn baby" I growl out aggressively holding her chin in my free hand while my preoccupied hand ghosts lazy circles against her clit. I think she tried to respond, but I wasn't interested in hearing it so I pressed my lips to hers again as I sank my fingers inside of her. Her sweet delicious means filled the air as I pumped my two fingers inside her.

"Oh Nikki" she whimpered and i pulled my fingers out licking them clean in a swift motion before setting her on the sink counter and kneeling between her legs. Making direct eye contact I delivered long slow licks to her clit as her head fell back in pleasure. Spreading her legs further apart I continued my assualt at a faster speed and internally celebrated as she bucked against my face crying out my name. I pulled my face away just enough to connect my mouth with her thigh and sunk my teeth into the flesh there lapping up the blood that slowly started to stream out. The girl continued to moan and writhe on the sink as I finished up my meal and licked her thigh clean. She had the dreamy look in her eyes and I had to hold her head still to get her to make eye contact with me.

"Be sure to tell all your friends that Nikki Sixx has a tongue like a God and you've never cum this hard before" I instructed to the dazed girl who nodded her head prompting me to open the door and find the uninterested girl from earlier standing there arms crossed.

"I thought I smelled blood" she still had the bored tone, but reached up running a finger up my chin to the corner of my mouth "my you're a messy eater"

She placed the finger in her mouth licking it clean and smiled at me for the first time tonight.

"Come on rockstar let's take a walk" she turned on her heel and walked to the window with me not far behind her.

What the fuck is going on?

[charmingturkeysandwich]

I Could Use a Love Song (2/22): where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases

Pairing: Emma Swan/Killian Jones (AU) Words: 3k(ish) Rating: T for this chapter, I’d say. (M overall) Chapter Summary: The band’s first day with their new roadie gets off to a shaky start.

Read on AO3.

---

Having grown used to shitty sleeping situations through foster homes, homelessness, couch surfing, and now touring, Emma awoke the next morning refreshed and ready to fight.

Yep, fight. Because the prior evening she’d been exhausted and hovering in that weird stage of drunk where you’re basically pre-hungover, and life had thrown a hot roadie at her. Except it wasn’t life that had done that. It was David. David who in the year of our lord 2019 most fucking certainly had a cell phone and could have shot her a text that a stranger was going to crash her quiet night alone.

Not that Killian crashed in any sense beyond sleep. They were seemingly both out before even the first song had finished playing through her speakers and he was still eyes-closed and breathing steady now that Emma was crawling over the seat and out the door, dead set on properly raging about the ridiculousness of this decision in addition to the lack of communication that shouldn’t exist among people who literally write words for a fucking living.

Seriously. How hard is it to send a text? Don’t wanna do your dirty work yourself, you can just tell Siri to piss of your bandmate on your behalf.

A little warning might have been nice. But she got none. So they weren’t getting any either.

“Rise and shine, motherfuckers!” Emma squawked as she flung open the door to David and Mary Margaret’s bedroom (they knew she had a copy of it, so really they should have thought twice before giving her no warning that she was going to have to deal with some weird ass alternate universe, very fuckable Captain Hook every single day for the foreseeable future. And pay him.

“Emma!” Mary Margaret gasped, yanking the comforter over what was probably her bare chest, but Emma didn’t bother to even glance at her. Accomplice in lack-of-communication, probably… but David was her object of fury.

Speaking of… “What the hell are you doing?!” he shouted, more confused than angry at her intrusion.

“I have a leather-jacket-wearing bone to pick with you, sir.”

“Aw, shit. You met Liam’s brother then?”

“Met him, slept with him, you know, the basic first steps in an employer-employee relationship.”

“Emma! You had sex with Killian?!” Mary Margaret sounded positively scandalized, which made sense for her own personality in addition to the fact that Emma hadn’t slept with anyone in … well it would probably be measured in years and not months, so. It would have been a shock if it were true.

“No, mom, but he slept in the van with me, which is my happy place. Not a place for strays.”

David stood up from the bed, raking his fingers through his hair in what looked like frustration or perhaps the pain of a hangover headache (good).

“We’re all strays, Emma. Can’t you be a little more accepting?”

“Can’t you be a little more with the warning?! You’re lucking I didn’t punch him when he approached me in a dark fucking alley, David.” Which was true. After much of the shit she suffered in her younger years, she didn’t take a chance or give anyone the benefit of the doubt if they seemed to have ill intentions.

He paused, daring blankly at her before taking a swig of the water next to their little bed. Light was just barely filtering through their curtains, so it was still early. No rush to hit the road quite yet, still time to get breakfast and drink their weights in coffee.

Usually the mornings were more pleasant than this.

Usually it was just the five of them in a diner, and usually she was listening to their post-gig stories, not sharing much of her own.

“Where did you leave him, then? Or did you already fire him?”

“Now, David, how could I fire someone I never even hired?! You remember we voted that we didn’t have the money to add staff.”

At that, Mary Margaret perked up, her back straightening as her mascara-smudged face scrunched in guilt. “That one is actually on me. We were on FaceTime with Killian and he’s just so… he’s in a bad place, Emma, and he needs money and people and we couldn’t just let him… “

“Go to the pound with the other strays? Fine. I get it. He doesn’t seem like the worst person in the world. But, like, give a girl a heads-up? And to answer your question, David, I left him soundly asleep in the van. I’m not a goddamn monster.”

Emma stormed out with no real destination in mind, just a deep craving for coffee and a bear claw and space from any other living human who might attempt to converse with her when she needed a minute to wallow in her semi-justified rage.

-

Of all the people to find her, of fucking course it was Killian.

Known him 12 hours or less and he was already the biggest pain in her ass.

“Swan, fancy seeing you here!” His voice was bright despite the wrinkles in this clothes and the hair that was no longer ‘artfully mussed,’ but more… hurricane-ravaged.

“Why are you so chipper?” is all she croaked back in response.

“Well I’ve already had an unpleasant encounter with Brother Dave and figured I would try to make this one a little less fraught with tension and don’t get any ideas about Emma you wanker.” Killian plopped down across from her, already clutching a coffee from somewhere that definitely was not the diner she’d wandered into and been sulking at for at least 2 hours.

“Why would he yell at you? And why are you calling him brother? And… just why?”

“Apologies, Swan, I assumed you’d had enough coffee and sugar to cope with me by now. I was warned of that. You see, apparently I was supposed to just go ‘sleep on a bench in a park’ or something to that effect and then not introduce myself to you or the rest of the crew until morning. Silly me. So David, who appears to think of himself as your father but who was best friends with my brother, proceeded to lecture me about how I’m not allowed to get in your pants. As if you didn’t have a say in the matter. Don’t worry, darling, I clarified that you will without a doubt never care for me beyond tolerance and he seemed to unbunch his knickers.”

“You know, Jones, if I’m not your love I’m probably not your darling, either.”

“Goodness sakes, woman, can you perhaps glean the important information from my babbling and not focus the filler?”

“Fine. Fuck your filler. We’re probably late for leaving by now, though,” Emma said, glancing at the clock on the wall and then at her message-filled phone. She rose from the table slowly, downing the rest of her lukewarm coffee and shoving a doughnut toward Killian in the process. “Shall we?”

He did some type of bow/curtsey nonsenense and flourished his arm toward the door as if to say ladies first and Emma stomped right past him, already 110% fed up with his weird country boy/Jane Austen hero attempt at chivalry when she knew he was no gentleman and she was no goddamn lady.

-

It appeared that the new guy had already met the rest of the team, Ruby fist bumping him and Graham giving him a hungover nod to acknowledge his return. David and Mary Margaret were blessedly silent about any of the morning’s arguments and simply hopped in the driver and passenger seats so they could meander over to the next tiny ass New York town full of Their People.

Some days were harder than others when it came to the places they played. None of them were the hellish ‘hometown’ she’d steadfastly refused to ever revisit, but each seemed to capture some kind of echo of her past. It was really a shame that scent was so tied to memory, because dive bars were smelly places. The right combination of Marlboro Menthol Lights, Miller, and whatever was in that black bottle from Avon and suddenly Emma was back at the Buckhorn, drinking to forget the hurt she hadn’t quite sustained yet, but was inevitably coming.

She always got past it. Rage was good like that, strong enough to overcome the heartbreak of individual memories. Whiskey helped, too.

Graham and Ruby were sprawled on either side of the middle row in the shabby van, both passed out (clearly they hadn’t done enough sleeping wherever it is either of them had gone the night before). David and Mary Margaret, meanwhile, were quietly singing to each other from the front, songs too cheesy for the other three bandmates to ever agree to allow to be performed on stage.

So that left her and Killian, the only two life forms currently active in actual reality.

“So what’s your story, Jones?

He rolled his head on his shoulders, sliding his line of sight from the video to meet her (probably too-harsh) stare. “What makes you think I have a story?”

“You’re on the road with a country band. In my experience you don’t get to that point without some stuff preceding it. Come on, Jones. Someone stole your truck, shot your dog, or screwed your wife. Which one?”

“Where are your manners, young lady, you definitely take a bloke to dinner before you ask for his Tragic Backstory. That’s got to be written somewhere. For shame!” he whisper-shouted, quite overdramatically.

Maybe he’d gotten his heart broken at drama camp.

“What else am I supposed to ask you? I don’t have much information to go on here.”

“Why don’t you start with, ‘Killian, it’s so nice to meet you. How about you tell me a little about yourself?’”

Her answering eye roll reminded her she hadn’t properly removed her makeup from the night before, not having taken her usual five minutes in the lovers’ hotel room bathroom to allow for proper skin care. Fuck, her pores were going to be pissed.

“I’m not quite that polite, but fine. We’ll have it your way. Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

That “little about himself” went on for about an hour, covering everything from his love of football to how underrated asiago cheese was on casual dining menus. They disagreed on silly subjects like the best fast food and what to take on a deserted island. They pretty much only agreed that David and Mary Margaret were insufferable and that love was for losers.

(And yes, that was the closest she got to unlocking even one small detail about his Tragic Backstory.)

They talked all the way to the next hole-in-the-wall bar, which did, in fact, like it might have some holes in it in the light of day.

“Thank the fucking lord we’re finally here. Will you two shut up now?” Ruby moaned into the seat cushion, apparently not as knocked out as Emma had assumed from her unmoving silence the entire ride.

“’s not our fault you two oafs don’t use the nighttime for sleeping,” Killian snarked back at her.

Hmm. Maybe they’d gotten more acquainted than Emma had realized.

Add that to the pile of Killian Jones-related mysteries.

-

Graham had been so exhausted, he didn’t even awake when the van emptied out, still snoozing even as they hauled all their shit into the bar. Just to be a jerk, Emma even tossed a drum stick at him. But he just grumbled and turned, unfazed by her minor assault.

“Hope he lost sleep for the good reason, if you know what I mean,” Killian said, as he bumped his shoulder into hers. He was carrying a guitar case in his right hand and had his left forearm wrapped around one of the boxes carrying electrical equipment.

“Yes, in that tone, I’m pretty sure people up in Vermont know what you mean?”

“I’m not sure about that one. Have you been to Vermont? I don’t think I’ve ever met a fuckable person from that whole state.”

“Don’t say that around David. I’m 99% sure he’d fuck Bernie Sanders.”

The two of them laughed so hard they almost dropped their very expensive equipment, especially when David, as if on cue, turned back toward them: “what’s in Vermont? There’s this ski place I’ve wanted to go to…”

Their laughter turned to near howling as poor, out-of-the-loop David rambled on about Mt. Snow being a great place to take a date and how exactly that could be so funny that two people who’d met last night had already been reduced to giggling middle schoolers.

-

Mary Margaret and Killian quickly started setting up for their set, even though they had a few hours until people would actually show (she was a worrier, and it was technically his first day on the job). So that gave the other slackers some time to rest and eat greasy food and hopefully get properly buzzed before the show so Emma didn’t have a random panic attack at some dude wearing a blue plaid shirt with pink Vans like Neal used to, once upon a time.

Catching up on the night before was usually their breakfast routine, but having avoided that, Emma assumed she’d just end up not knowing how Graham and Ruby had spent their time. Thankfully, both were perfectly happy to provide a secondary replay of their evenings.

Well, Ruby was happy to. See, she hadn’t done anything scandalous the night before. No fucking strangers for her! Turns out, a friend of hers from college lived in that little town and she’d gone over to her place to catch up. Friends old and new were there and she mostly missed out on sleep for conversation and a few truly ridiculous board games (who played Chutes and Ladders when they were plastered?).

Graham, on the other hand, had not had as enjoyable an evening. He’d met a girl, a very pretty girl, and she’d asked him back to her place. He had enthusiastically agreed right up until he was pounding into her against her kitchen counter only to be interrupted by her boyfriend. Thankfully there was no macho how dare you touch my girlshowdown, but it did leave Graham with a bad case of blue balls and nowhere to sleep.

“Wait! Why didn’t you come to the van with me? I don’t bite,” Emma protested as Graham was describing wandering the roads with streetlights until it was appropriately light enough to be breakfast time.

“You don’t think that’s the first place I went? I peeked my head in the fan and saw his shaggy ass and thought you might actually have taken the leap and met someone. No chance in hell I was going to spook you if you finally found a guy you didn’t want to murder on first sight.”

She yelped out a very offended hey, but deep down, he wasn’t wrong. He and David were just the only two men to ever prove to her they were interested in her as a human being and not a punching bag or human fleshlight. She was thankful for finding them and realizing that the whole not all men has some merit, but not enough to take any chances on a guy.

“Well now that you know your assessment couldn’t have been further from the truth, I bet you’re feeling pretty silly for missing out on sleep.”

“No, I stand by my decision. But, yeah, tonight I’m crashing in the van with you two. Unless, I mean, if you ever want privacy with him…”

“YES!” Ruby squealed. “You two would make the cutest babies. You know, someday. With little leather jackets and horrendous attitudes. It would be legit adorable.”

From the corner of her eye she could see David’s face turning fuchsia and she was reminded of the speech he’d apparently given Killian that morning (as if she needed protecting). Not even close.

“Hah, very funny there, Rubes. You think he’s so good looking, you can go for it.”

“Oh, no you will not!” David shouted. “No casual sex within the band.”

(Hey, at least he was yelling at someone who wasn’t her.)

“But you and Mary Margaret!” she protested.

“Nothing casual about that. Marry Killian, fine. I’ll throw the bridal shower. But do not fuck him for fun. We need him and he doesn’t need another mess.”

Before Emma had a chance to ask David to elaborate on that clear Tragic Backstory Hint, Mary Margaret and Killian plopped down at the table, set-up apparently finished.

“So… what do we do now?” Killian asked, the blunt end of his left arm fiddling with the thick ring on his right thumb.

Mary Margaret, David, and Graham collectively responded, “Eat!”

Ruby and Emma were more of the let’s get drunk frame of mind and instead replied, “Shots!”

So the crew of six ordered shots for 12 and their first official day as a team had begun.

By the time they were being announced for the stage, Emma was red-faced and stumbling, Mary Margaret was giggling about the word “banana” and Killian had already told sixteen different dirty jokes, all met with a deeper scowl from Emma each time.

-

That night Graham’s drumming was just a tad out of sync and David forgot that he wasn’t actually supposed to sing the girl parts of their one duet-style song, but none of that mattered. The crowd was wild, totally tuned in and screaming their hearts out right along with them. Halfway through their set, just before Emma relinquished lead vocals to Mary Margaret for Sappy Hour, she clutched the microphone in her hand, swaying as she returned it to the stand at the edge of the stage, yelling, “I love everyone in this bar!”

This whole ‘having friends’ thing just got better and better every single day.

Especially when puking in the dumpster at 3am. You find out who your friends are, right about then, and only Ruby was mockingly taking SnapChat videos. Killian got her water and Graham held her hair and the last thing she remembered before she passed out was telling the other strays she was just so glad they all somehow found each other.

[ayatosama]

the fueguchi files

chapter: two

pairing: ayahina

chapter word count: 1332

total word count: 2653

summary: Hinami Fueguchi is a celebrated detective working directly under Eto Yoshimura, one of the most prolific detectives of their generation. The only thing standing in her way from reaching her goal is her own human limitations. Enter Ayato Kirishima, a young cop looking to make detective. He’s placed under Hinami’s guidance in order to get his detective shield and ease Hinami’s work load. The two start off as polar opposites, sun and moon. But something begins to work between them, bringing Hinami closer to that one thing she can’t seem to reach. That one case that eludes her.

“I’m only wearing this because you split your coffee on me.” She says. Unconsciously she bites her lip. The boy, Ayato, lets out a sigh but a smirk follows.

“I was trying to do something nice for you, Detective Fueguchi.” And something in the way he said that made her blood boil. He was several inches taller than her but she thought she could pummel him if need be.

“Listen...Ayato was it?” — no chance for him to answer — “From this point on, I am your superior and you will act like it.” Ayato grinned, and held his hands up as if in surrender.

“Whatever you say Detective.” His response was sarcastic, in fact his whole demeanour was, but Hinami felt like there was something that pseudo-snark was blanketing from view. She knew nothing of him, didn’t even remember his last name. But her instinct was never wrong. There was more to Ayato than this cold and snarky exterior.

“We actually have a case, it came in before you got here but I want to see how well you do on it. We need to hurry though, it’s best to examine the scene as close to the crime as we possibly can.” The sarcastic demeanour shifted to something colder, more serious. He nodded and followed her out of the precinct toward their first conjoined case. Hinami wasn’t sure what she should suspect, she hadn’t worked with anyone in a long long time. She worked better alone.

—

Ayato wasn’t sure yet what to make of Hinami Fueguchi. She was shorter than he expected. And less intimidating. He was expecting a rough and gruff take no bullshit detective. Something out of a 1950’s cop movie. But she was sweet. Her eyes dark eyes open and constantly examining the world around her.

Like right now. Hinami was bent over the body of a young woman examining the wounds left by the killer.

“Ayato?” She said looking up at him. He realized he was supposed to be taking notes of everything she was saying.

“I-I’m sorry, what were you saying.” She pouted and then blew a sigh of air to push her bangs from her face.

“She’s a woman of mid twenties.” Hinami said, her gaze on Ayato making sure he was actually recording what she was saying to him. “Cause of death, most likely exsanguination. Though this is mostly speculation till we speak with a medical examiner.”

Ayato felt a shift in the way Hinami was speaking. She was still sweet but her honey had crystalized into something she could use as a weapon. Watching the way she categorized each detail with such efficiency and not even flinch at the gore was impressive.

“Multiple stab wounds, maybe from two different weapons, appear to made postmortem. Again, speculation till we get a full report from the ME.” Hinami turned from Ayato now. She looked like she was actually praying over the body for a brief moment. “Signs of sexual assault present. As well as a missing ring.”

“How can you tell?” Ayato asked leaning closer to see what he was missing.

“See the tan line around her ring finger, it’s the middle of winter. She shouldn’t have a recent tan line. She must wear the ring every day.”

She looked to the street cop who had discovered the body.

“Any witnesses?”

“Another whor...protistute says a man approached Miss Walker late in the evening but nothing of any substance.” The cop clearly seemed to think he was wasting his time here. “They never tell us the full story.”

Without even glancing from the body Hinami replied, “well maybe they’d give more if they thought you gave enough of a fuck about them to take their deaths seriously.”

The man blanched and Ayato saw him going through the process of what would happen if he spoke out against Hinami as she was higher ranking.

She didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Now I’d like you to canvas the area again, and if you don’t bring me anything of use you will be removed from this case.”

“Detective! How am I supposed to get these whores to talk to me?”

“You start,” Hinami’s voice had gone as cold as Ayato thought it would ever get, “by treating them as humans and then you make sure they know you want to help. Like I said, if nothing is on my desk by the end of the day you’re off the case.”

The man said no more and left to re-canvas the area. He must be fuming. Hinami sighed and stood up. “Take Miss Walker to the ME’s office please, we’ll be there shortly after.” The forensics team did as Hinami commanded.

“I hate it.” Hinami said when they were alone in the bloodsoaked alley.

“What?”

“That these women are treated like scum for trying to survive.” Her mind shifted from this to something so quick Ayato was finding it hard to keep up with her mind. “We’ll have to wait for the examination to accurately move forward, but theories over coffee is something Captain Eto and I used to do when I first started working, would you like to join me Ayato?”

All the sweetness returned to her voice. As if there were masks she wore for different situations. He wondered where the real Hinami was inside all these variations.

“Yes I would like to join you.”

—

Hinami found she actually enjoyed Ayato’s presence. He was calm when she was heated. He was broad when she was specific. He complimented her in ways she didn’t think a partner could. Not that this means she particularly liked him as a person. His whole persona seemed to radiate ‘don’t come close to me’ energy.

“It’s amazing.” He said after they finished debating why the heavy postmortem violence.

“What’s amazing?” She brought her coffee to her lips and took a sip. They were in her favorite cafe. It was a small little shop on the corner of a street. There was nothing particularly special about the decor or anything but the barista’s had grown accustomed to her face and had her coffee ready before she even entered the building. They’d ask her of her cases and her work, they’d tell her stories of theirs. It was a friendly environment. And after dealing with death most of the day she appreciated the reprieve.

“How you totally got that prick to cower like the fucking jack ass he is.” Hinami actually burst out laughing. Ayato raised an eyebrow and looked as if his face was trying to remember how to smile.

“I thought he was gonna piss his pants.” She choked out through laughs.

“I didn’t know you could be so scary.” He said taking a sip of his own coffee. “I assumed you were just all brains and no brawn.”

“I wasn’t always so good at standing up for myself.” She shrugged, “but when you’re a young female detective...well you gotta have tough skin to make these street cops respect you.”

“You studied under Eto Yoshimura right?” He asked. Hinami nodded. A flash of blood and Eto’s steady hand entered her mind. She shoved the memory back where it belonged. Deep, deep in her subconscious.

“That must’ve been incredible.” He said. “What made you even want to become a detective in the first place?”

Hinami went to answer but her phone lit up. She glanced down expecting the medical examiner to have finished her examination. But instead it was a text from Eto;

Eto [3:43 pm]: Another body found. I’ve sent the location. It appears to match the M.O of the body you just looked at. The street cops thinks they’re not linked but we know better than to trust their judgement. Don’t we Hina?

Her mouth felt dry. She hadn’t even completed her full report and investigation of the first women before another had turned up.

“Ayato, we need to go now.” She said.