#quietly giggling when i realized like a mad man

[solargeist]

i made a fish OC and named him Finn and it took a whole minute before i realized his name is accidentally a pun

[steddielations]

Eddie insists on cleaning the gutters because it’s “too risky” for Steve, in case he slips off the ladder and hits his head or something. Needless to say, Steve is standing in a hospital room several hours later waiting for Eddie to get out of surgery for his broken arm.

Steve’s not mad at Eddie but he’s really tense because he can’t stand it when Eddie gets hurt, especially for something stupid that Steve was perfectly capable of doing himself. He’s still stress-ranting to Robin when Eddie gets back and the doctors say he may be a little out of it when he wakes up.

Steve finally eases when Eddie blinks awake, “Hey, stupid,” he says softly.

Eddie blinks dazedly up at him, a dopey little smile forming on his lips, “Whoa, man. You're pretty."

Steve shakes his head fondly, realizing Eddie has no idea who he is, "Thanks, and you're so high right now, aren't you?”

"No, I'm single. Do you have a wife?"

"I have a husband.”

"Shit... Can he fight?"

Steve snorts, looking over at Robin who’s snickering quietly behind her hand.

"He's you, Eddie, remember?"

A big grin lazily breaks out across Eddie’s face, this unrestrained happiness that makes Steve feel like the sun just rose inside his chest.

"What? You're my husband?” Eddie exclaims, much too loud for a quiet hospital room but Steve doesn’t care, “Holy shit!” He keeps repeating it, blinking and rubbing his face with his uninjured hand, looking at Steve like he can’t believe his eyes, like he’s falling in love for the first time all over again.

As the nurses come in and out of the room, Eddie just keeps telling everyone, “Look at my husband, I hit the pretty boy jackpot,” giggling deliriously when Steve holds his hand. It’s cute enough to make Steve forget how mad he is for now.

[lolahasmoxie]

Filled to the Brim (E.M.)

mdni, 18+ (lots of sex stuff inside. shoo if you're underage)

WARNING: sex, lots of it. Bodily fluids (Eddie's cum). The mad writings of a woman who needs to get laid.

WORD: 1.4K

I was inspired by this fic by @emeritusemeritus, which is so filthy, good, and dirty.

Eddie cums like a freight train.

You noticed it the first time you had sex with him. You had finally stopped pining for each other and had decided that being friends wasn't good enough anymore. You were yanking on Eddie's shirt, but he took your hands in his before gently guiding you to his bedroom.

He forced you to slow down. He made you feel so precious that you had tears in the corner of your eyes. He kissed you for what felt like hours before he blazed a path between your legs. His plush lips and agile fingers had you singing for him before he finally covered your body and pushed into your warm, velvet walls.

He laid a steady rhythm, kissing you the entire time. You came with his name on your lips, and he followed almost immediately after. And when he did cum, it felt like he came for ages. Just when you thought he had given you all he had to offer, you would feel another twitch and hear another groan.

When he stopped to look where you were joined, he gasped; his orgasm extended when he noticed that he had filled you so much that his cum was trickling out around his cock. He pulled out of you, still hard, and watched as his cum puddled onto the bed. He had you three more times that night.

He told you it had been a while, so you didn't think much of it. But it didn't take long to realize that Eddie just came in buckets. It wasn't uncommon for you to be leaking him for hours after, even into the next day. The man ruined so many pairs of your panties, but you would forget all of that when he would hover over you in a post-orgasmic glow. Watching you like you were a goddess as he watched his cum dribble out of you.

It was a lazy Saturday. After morning kisses and breakfast, you and Eddie had made your way back to bed. With nowhere to be, you climbed into Eddie's lap. You bounced slowly and gently, hands on his shoulders as you took your time. Feeling every vein and inch of his thick cock as he made you feel so damn full.

Eddie's hands were on your hips, gently helping you bounce as you took the time to enjoy how the other felt. When you came, it was with a breathy cry. You collapsed onto his chest, body shaking as he moved his own hips to follow you into bliss. Eddie held you close, kissing you while you warmed his cock. You wished all Saturdays could be like this, but you began to squirm when you felt a growing wetness between you.

"Can't move like that, sweetheart. You're gonna get me hard again."

"Can't help it." Eddie opens his eyes, smirking when he sees why you can't keep still.

"Got a little messy today, huh?"

"You're always a little messy, love." Eddie's ears glow beet red at your comment, but he can't disagree with you when he pulls out of you and sees his cum make a trail down onto the sheets.

"Stay put; I'll get something and clean you up." He kisses you quickly, and you can't help but smile as he tidies you up while you lie pliant on the bed. The washcloth is warm, and he gives your inner thighs kisses as he wipes his cum off of you. When he runs the warm cloth between your lips, you can't help but squirm due to tenderness.

"Ssssh, I know. You did so good for me."

"Mmmm, you always treat me so good, Eds,"

"Wasn't talking to you." He says with a cheeky smile. You glance down to see his head resting on your upper thigh, his eyes level with your sore pussy. He cups you gently, his eyes finally meeting your own. "But you did good, too."

"You are so lucky I like you." You giggle as Eddie leaves kisses on your mound before making a path back up to your waiting lips. He kisses you softly, curling his body next to yours.

"Stay awhile?" he asks quietly, and you let him wrap his arms around you. It doesn't take long before the both of you are sleeping.

You wake up a couple of hours later, Eddie's side of the bed empty. There's a note on the nightstand saying that he didn't want to leave, but Wayne's truck died and needed Eddie's help and that he would be home as soon as he could.

You feel it the minute you stand. The slow trickle of Eddie's essence slowly makes its way down your thigh, and after stopping in the restroom, you head to the kitchen to start making dinner.

Almost an hour later, Eddie's van comes up the driveway. You have the radio on, singing along as you finish dinner. You threw on an old t-shirt and pajama shorts with no underwear, seeing as you were positive all of Eddie's cum was out of you.

You were so lost in the music that even though you knew Eddie was home, he was able to sneak up behind you. He loved scaring you, and when he heard you scream and jump, he started howling with laughter. He only stopped when he noticed you hunched over, one hand on the counter while the other cupped your sex.

"Babe, what's wrong? Oh shit, I didn't make you pee yourself, did I? I am so sorry!"

"Not pee," you say with a strained voice. Eddie walks closer to you, slowly moves your hand out of the way, and sees a wet spot on the front of your shorts. He looks confused, his eyes meeting yours for an explanation. "It's from earlier; I'm still leaking from this morning."

"Holy shit, that's my cum?" he asks, his voice full of disbelief. "There was that much?"

"There's always that much," you giggle. "But thanks to your scare, I'm pretty sure I'm empty now."

Eddie stares at you blankly for a moment, his brain seeming to reboot with this information you've given him. Before you can tease him again, he makes you shriek when he picks you up and places you on the counter. Your mouth hangs open when he pulls your shorts down and uses his thumbs to spread you open. His eyes are filled with wonder and delight, the brown swallowed by inky black as he sees his sticky cum clinging to your pussy.

He thrusts his tongue into you, making you gasp and moan as he devours you like a demon. He's moaning and shoving his face into you like he's trying to bury himself in your pussy. The sounds you make fill the kitchen and echo off the walls as his fingers dig into your thighs.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie!"

"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart? You should have said something 'cause I would have cleaned up after myself like a good boy should."

It's almost embarrassing how quickly Eddie has you cumming on your kitchen counter. There's no slow lead-up, he's doing everything in his power to get you to cum, now. Your orgasm hits you like a truck, and you cry out, not caring one iota if the neighbors can hear what Eddie is doing to you. He continues his onslaught, drinking down all you have to give until you're shaking and begging him to stop.

When you finally catch your breath and your soul returns to your body, Eddie comes up, and his hands reach for your face to pull you in for a kiss. It's filthy, all tongue and teeth, and you can taste yourself on his lips. Then his arms grasp you under your thighs, and you're holding his shoulders as he carries you down the hallway.

"My poor baby, you must have been so uncomfortable keeping my load in all morning," he says in that cocky dungeon master voice that has you keening in his ear. He tosses you on your bed, and both of you race to disrobe.

He climbs over you, his hands spreading your thighs open as he begins to slowly rub his heavy cock between your lower lips. You bully your lower lip between your teeth at how he looks at you, goddess and temptress all in one and just for him.

"What are you gonna do?" you ask, reaching for his hand. He briefly looks you in the eyes before he returns his gaze to where you are joined together.

I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. Now that you're all clean, I'm gonna fill you up until your pretty little pussy can't hold anymore. I wanna see you leaking me for days." You have a witty response ready, but all coherent thoughts leave your head when his fat cock breaches your warm, wet walls. If Eddie wants to conduct this experiment with you, you'll let him as long as he keeps fucking you like this.

The answer to Eddie's question ends up being 3 days.

[starhvney]

heyyy can you do drabbles of the guys with you baby please? like just some nice domestic stuff :) maybe with garroth, laurance, gene, and dante please. thank youuuuub

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mys dante, garroth, gene, & laurance

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: it’s the little simple moments with them that end up sticking the longest

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: why is every mys man sassy? idk, it really is the sassy man apocalypse, anyways so much fluff, & slice of life

𝐂𝐖: none unless you're easily susceptible to baby fever

𝐀/𝐍: um, perfect prompt for father’s day i guess? yes i made all of them girl dads except for dante because i can what are you gonna do about it??? also i realized i either included sleep or food in each of the drabbles for babies cause like what else do you do with them?? like i love babies but i’m the baby of my family so like i’ve never even changed a diaper before lmaoo i just hold them sometimes if there’s one around i guess. ok i'll stop yapping sry

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄

at first you weren’t paying much attention, the goofy laughter of dante and your baby pretty common occurrence in your home. you mainly were focusing on some paperwork in front of you on the counter, something you had really been needing to get to for the past week and just hadn’t gotten a chance yet.

your hand is rubbing your eyebrow as you lean over, trying to process the words you're reading. nothing is really coming through, however, especially when another round of laughter comes from the two.

you could never be mad at the distraction, especially when the sound was the joy of both of the people you cherished and loved the most. you couldn’t help but investigate, though, especially since dante was just supposed to be feeding your son.

how funny could that be, for them to be laughing more than any eating was getting done?

just as you turn into the dining room, your met with the sight of yogurt and a blueberry meeting the floor with a comical plap.

very slowly, your eyes drift back up to the two boys in front of you, accusatorily squinting at the one that was supposed to be more responsible than the other.

dante sucks in some air through his teeth, looking guiltily at you before back to your baby in the chair. said baby’s mouth and hands are covered in yogurt, the boy blankly staring back at you.

a moment of silence passes, both of them staring at you like a deer in headlights before dante leans over to the boy, whispering out of the corner of his mouth.

“we’ve been caught.”

“are you two…having a food fight?” you question, hands on your hips.

“no!” dante defends, lifting another scoop of yogurt up to the boy. “he just refuses to actually eat, and then i laughed when he got it everywhere… and now he keeps smacking the spoon away to try and make me laugh again.”

you sigh, watching as your baby grips the spoon, smearing the yogurt in his hands and smearing it over his mouth. dante’s head falls forward, landing onto the edge of the high chair’s table as he quietly laughs at the spectacle.

“what is he doing? it’s so dumb, i don’t know why it’s so funny. look at his little face.” he laughs, lifting his head and pointing at the baby who sends the both of you a proud look.

“don’t—” your voice wobbles as you hold back the urge to laugh yourself. “—don’t encourage it, dante.”

“i’m not trying to!” he insists, lifting the spoon back up to your son’s face.

“dude, just eat the food!” dante giggles, the spoon of baby food shaking in front of the boy’s face as his whole body trembles with his laughter. 

this time, it gets a little out of hand, his chubby hand smacking the spoon completely out of dante’s wobbly hands and splattering it onto the floor.

“alright, no more.” you say sternly, causing the two to look at you with pouty eyes. “i’m gonna clean him up and he can have a gogo squeez.”

you pace forward, scooping your son up from his seat and groaning when he smears his yogurt hands onto your clean shirt. dante stands up, grinning sheepishly and leaning forward to give you a peck on the lips.

“sorry.”

you smile sweetly, giggling when you raise your little one up to dante’s face, allowing him to also give a big ‘ol kiss onto dante’s face, therefore smearing yogurt all over his cheek.

“it’s fine! you’re going to clean it up, after all.”

his eyes widen, looking around at the mess before hitting his lower lip out, hands lacing together in a pleading motion. “no help?”

you raise an eyebrow. “dante.”

“yeah, that’s fair.” he immediately concedes, clearly not all that serious about making you help in the first place. he points in accusatory finger at your son, lips pouting as he bends down to meet his eye level.

“dang you for being so cute and funny like your dad, now you got me in trouble and you get to be pampered like you’re not the culprit.” he complains, and your son merely laughs at the stupid face he was making.

“you two are going to be a handful, no matter the age.” you sigh.

“but you’ll love us!” dante winks, leaning forward to kiss your cheek and very purposefully nuzzling his face against yours, smearing more yogurt all over your face, too.

“ugh, dante!”

“i love you~!”

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

there’s a certain fullness in your chest, something you can’t express in words at this moment. it’s such a simple, mundane day. yet, you’re lulled into an indescribable sense of comfort and love as the sound of your husband making your daughter’s laughter bounce off the walls fills the otherwise quiet house, all at the expense of him acting like a fool. 

a few times your eyes had diverted from the steaming pot on the stove in front of you leaning over to glance into the living room to see what they were up to. the first time he had been playing peek-a-boo, the next it was him crawling around on all fours while she babbled what was probably meant to be “yeehaw!”, and the next after that he had been tossing her up into the air and dipping her back down like an airplane.

you had to focus your attention on draining the pasta and taking the heat off the meat you were cooking, finishing the final sauces and seasonings when you realized you hadn’t heard garroth’s deep voice nor your baby’s elated giggles for a good while.

wiping your hands off on your apron you step into the doorway, peering into the now silent room. any slight concern you felt disappears, instead replaced by awe as you gaze at the endearing sight in front of you.

garroth is lazed back on the couch, somehow completely passed out despite being wide awake just ten minutes ago. his mouth is open, soft snores leaving his mouth. his hand rests firmly on your daughter’s back, keeping her in place as she rests on his broad chest.

before the moment is wasted you dash back into the kitchen to grab your phone, shuffling back as light as you can on your feet to not disturb the peaceful moment. your girl is tuckered out, cheek squished against her dad’s chest, drool dripping down onto his shirt, arms and legs sprawled out onto the rest of his torso.

you click a few pictures of the scene, crouching down for a second to admire the tranquil and frankly adorable memory you’re sure to keep even when your baby isn’t a baby any longer.

you lightly reach out to garroth’s shoulder, squeezing and gently shaking it to wake him up. it doesn’t take more than that—which was very surprising based on how hard he usually slept—for him to crack open his sleepy eyes. you can’t help the tiny giggles that leave your mouth at how he looked, the poor man’s eyes glazed and cheeks pink. a baby with lots of energy will do that to you.

“hey, my love. dinner’s ready.” you whisper, leaning forward to press a kiss onto his cheek.

he squeezes his eyes shut with a sleepy groan, going to stretch before freezing, his hand still protectively on your daughter’s back despite his lack of awareness. you reach to pick her up before he lightly pushes your hand away with a jut of his lower lip.

“no, she’s cuddling me right now.”

you lean forward, head resting on the couch as you snicker at him. “yeah, and drooling all over you too, goofy.”

“at least it’s cute baby drool. when you drool on me though…”

a smack to his shoulder shuts him up. “i do not drool!”

“sure,” he retorts, his chuckles shaking the girls head and waking her from her light nap.

she reaches up to rub her little round eyes, lips spreading into an excited smile when she sees both her mommy and daddy are right there with her.

“time to eat! are you hungry?” you whisper, reaching forward to wiggle a finger against her stomach, making her giggle and squirm.

garroth chuckles again, lifting the girl up as he suddenly stands up. “ah! the tickle monster is gonna get you! don’t worry, my princess, i’ll save you!”

the girl squeals in laughter, still a bit sleepy as she leans on his shoulder as he rushes to the kitchen. you follow after with an amused eye roll, unfastening your apron and throwing it onto the counter as garroth plops the girl right down into her high chair.

as you pull down the plates garroth takes them from behind you, arms encasing you as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“i got it. thank you for dinner, sweetheart.”

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄

this moment is perfect. sitting on one side of a blanket, your husband on the other side keeping your daughter steady on her chubby legs as you call for her to walk towards you. you felt so warm, from the setting sun shining on your skin and warming the blood in your veins, to the the swirl of love in your chest as you watch gene lift your daughter’s feet and march them forward.

he looks so soft like this, skin glowing and eyes shining with a certain warmth you would’ve never believed could be seen on him a few years ago. soft coos and high-pitched chants comically leave his mouth, cheering the little girl as she takes a step towards you.

“come on, baby girl. you can do it.” he says, proud smile on his face as she takes another step. “there you go!”

a moment later her legs wobble and give out on her. though it would’ve been a short fall onto a soft and padded ground, gene’s hands still shoot forward, lifting the girl up with a small, “woah-!” leaving his lips.

while this maneuver had worked several times before, it would seem your baby was quite fed up with this practice, frustrated whines beginning to leave her lips and feet kicking out in the air.

“it’s getting kind of late, huh…” you note, watching the sky begin to slowly dim and a few fireflies light up above your heads. 

“yeah,” he says, cradling the little one to his chest similarly to how he did when she was even smaller than she was now. “and she did so good, right sweetheart?”

she seemed quite set on throwing a fit just mere seconds ago, but melts into her father’s arms with a giggle when he wiggles his fingers against her sides.

you feel yourself melting too at the sight, scooting forward and saving your daughter from the clutches of gene’s wrath with a clean scoop into your arms.

“aw, c’mon—” he starts, before his eyes drift to a firefly that landed right on his knee.

your baby’s attention immediately drifts to the soft flash of light from the bug, the cutest little gasp leaving her lips as she leans towards it in your arms.

he imitates her tiny gasp with his own, eyes reflecting the yellow-green glow from the bug as he carefully cups his hand around it, lifting it up towards her face and cracking them open for her to peer into.

“wow!” she softly gasps again, tiny hand wrapping around one of gene’s fingers to steady herself as she sleepily wobbles.

gene opens his hand, letting the firefly go off into the air. she sleepily blinks up into the dimming sky, lower lip beginning to wobble and eyebrows furrowing in irritation.

“oh, someone’s getting sleepy.” he coos, taking the girl from your arms as you start to gather the blanket up.

he holds her like a newborn, rocking her and ghosting light kisses against her forehead. she immediately flutters her eyes shut, one hand grasping onto his shirt and the other curling by her face like a little princess, just as gene had spoiled her to be.

“she’s getting so big. soon enough she’ll be too big for you to carry her like that all the time.” you say, pressing a kiss on her forehead as you two begin the short trek back into your neighborhood.

“not true,” he defends, voice quiet as he stares down at the features of her face. “i can carry you, so i can carry her until she doesn’t let me anymore.”

you don’t say anything to this, noticing the sentimental gleam in the deep color of his irises. 

“someone’s feeling soft.” you lightly tease, brushing your shoulder against his. “whatcha thinkin’ about?”

he doesn’t respond for a second, eyes slowly blinking before he finally looks at you, the amount of love in his eyes not diminishing in the slightest.

“thank you.” he says, voice quiet and tender.

“…for what?” you softly return.

“if you told me in high school, no, even after that, that i was married to you and had a baby and was living a happy life… i would’ve laughed in your face.” he takes a deep breath, leaning over to kiss your forehead and doing the same to the girl in his arms. “i never knew this is what i wanted until i met you. thank you.”

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

once again, like clockwork, the shrill cries of your baby girl interrupt the peaceful quiet of the night. once again, your tired eyes peel open, muscles flinching for you to get up and comfort your child despite the exhaustion that settles deep into your bones. 

before you can even prop yourself onto one arm, your husband’s hand settles firmly on your hip, keeping you from leaving the warm comfort of your shared bed.

“no, stay in bed. i’ll deal with her this time.” he leans in to whisper in your ear, voice raspy from a lack of sleep and the late hour.

“you got her last time, though.”

“and you take care of her all the time when i’m working.” his hand moves down to your hip where he squeezes, pressing a kiss onto the side of your face. “go back to sleep.”

any further protests die from your throat when you feel the bed dip as he leaves, quietly closing the door behind him to go to the nursery across the hall. as soon as the door shuts so do your eyelids, as you feel yourself involuntarily drift back to a half asleep state.

it’s not until you wake back up quite a few moments later, hand reaching to laurance’s side of the bed only to find it empty and cold. you groan, turning to double check before catching the faint sound of the water running in the bathroom.

with a sigh, you leave the bed, holding back the shiver as the chill of the cool bedroom bites at your skin. cracking open the bathroom door, you find the lights off, room lit just by a candle and the nightlight by the sink. steam fills the whole room from the hot shower that ran, and you see laurance in the center of the room, gently rocking your little girl back to sleep.

he looks up to you, usually bright eyes heavy lidded from lack of sleep and shoulders slumped. his hair is a little dampened and flat from the moisture in the air, skin glowing as the heat stuck to his skin. despite this, he can’t help the soft smile that stays curved on his lips as he looks from your daughter to you as you approach him.

“she’s just now falling back asleep.” he whispers, voice barely audible over the water hitting the shower floor. “

you nod, standing in front of him to gaze at the girl in his arms. her eyes fluttered as if she were still trying to stubbornly fight off sleep. her little lips pouted as a bit of bubbled drool left her lips, perfectly content and comfortable in her daddy’s arms. 

you quietly hum a small tune, one of your fingers lightly ghosting along the slope of her nose. it has the same curve as laurance’s, just as the similar shape and color of her eyes to the man that held her.

you couldn’t help the surge of affection that overwhelmed you, reaching forward to plant your lips on his and place a few more along his face and neck. he leans forward as you pull back, quietly groaning before looking down at the small girl that was keeping him from making any hasty decisions. 

“if your mommy isn’t careful we’re gonna end up with another one of you.” he sweetly coos, gently rocking her.

“…i just kissed you.” you quietly giggle, looking down to see the girl had officially drifted into dreamland.

laurance merely smiles in return with a raised eyebrow, following after you back into the nursery. his focus diverts as he ever so gently sets your daughter back down to rest, releasing a sigh of relief as she doesn’t make a hint of protest, merely settling down into the crib.

you find yourself drifting to his side before he can turn back around, arms wrapping around his waist as you gaze down at the little girl in the blankets.

“she’s exhausting, but beautiful.” you quietly sigh, finger reaching down to brush against the soft skin of her cheek.

“just like her mom.”

it takes a moment for the tired and content fogginess in your brain to clear, realizing what he just said. 

“…excuse me?”

silent laughter shakes the both of you as he hugs you closer, dipping you down into his arms and pressing a kiss against your cheek. 

“i’m just joking, of course.” he giggles, peppering kisses along your jaw.

“a terrible joke. awful joke.” you say, though you couldn’t help the laughter that threatened to bubble from your lips, voice trembling with amusement. 

“i’m a dad now, i’m allowed to make bad jokes.”

“oh whatever, you nerd.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick (AND x Constantine😜) Imagine WIP Part 9

Here we go my lovelies! @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake @tammykelly @lilspookymeh @kurai-hono-blog

Wick could have been an asshole about buying a brand new kitchen, sundries included–but instead he merely shrugs off Constantine's hostile question. "Seemed like the least I could do."

Constantine glares, but lets it go, begrudgingly sitting down to a delectable meal cooked by the man he knows, deep down, that you've never been able to forget. 

At Tex's midday administering of magical medicine, he takes your hand after you finish, refusing to let go. "Set with me a while, Rattlesnake." He pats the couch, on which there is no room unless you were to sit in his lap–undoubtedly his hope.

With a sigh and a knowing smirk you settle back in your chair. Your eyes are drawn to the burn upon his chest. He will carry that mark for the rest of his life, even if the magic is lifted.

You think on what Papa Midnite said to Constantine. "Take some big feeling..."

It kind of floors you, to think of the energy it took for Constantine to conjure that working out of thin air.

For you.

You told him a little bit about the boys. How they hurt you–and, how they saved your life. How you loved them, and how they destroyed you in their abandonment. No matter how you framed it, Constantine blamed them for the bullet wound forever seared in your side.

However, it wasn’t so simple as that. 

"Whacha thinking, baby girl?"

You just shake your head with a tired smile. "Nothing important."

"Hmm. You gonna make me guess? Alright. You're thinkin'...bout that time in Mexico it was just you an me and the stars, out by the pool in our birthday suits."

You snort–quite against your will, it turns into a giggle. 

"No..."

"Uh huh. You’re missin' my wicked tongue up between your thighs. I know that look."

"That's enough of that," you say, trying to stand. But he has your hand, and he tugs you so that you fall down to sit on the edge of the couch–and half on him. Your faces hover just centimeters away. You watch with horror a he tries to lean in, capitalizing on the opportunity. By the skin of your teeth, your heart in your throat, you just barely manage to turn your head.

"Didn't you miss me, rattlesnake?" he asks, his deep voice all sultry and low just wrecking you to the bone.

You dare reach up to caress his cheek with the blade of your thumb. "Of course I did. But there’s no going back, Tex. Maybe...that time is behind us." Just saying it hurts like a knife between the ribs, but you go on, “Maybe you and John did the right thing, letting me go.”

He just narrows his dark eyes at hearing that. You hate the way it gives you such a thrill, to the base of your spine, and lower still. “I thought you were mad about that? Hell, I’m still mad about that. I miss you so much I can hardly think straight. There’s just…” He frowns while he says it, but you know it’s just because he’d literally rather take a bullet than talk about his feelings. His grip on your hand tightens; he glares down at your silver rings like they owe him money.  “There ain’t no point to anything, when you’re gone. Do you know what I mean?”

You close your eyes; for a moment you feel as though the floor has dropped out from under you, because you know exactly what he means. You lived it for months after they booted you, drifting from country to country, an empty husk of a woman, a gaping black hole where your heart used to be. Only after moving to LA, thinking about going back to school, and meeting Constantine, did your life start to feel like it had some meaning again. 

“Yeah. I know what you mean,” you answer quietly. “But how did you think this would go? You’d knock on my door, and I’d just uproot my whole life for you again?”

“Maybe?” The confusion on his handsome face is almost cute. You realize he really did think it would be that easy, and you snort, looking away to a framed Tibetan Thangka painting on the wall. This man. As ever, you’re torn between kissing him and killing him. You have to keep reminding yourself that the former option is not even on the table. 

“At least give me some credit. I coulda come in with guns blazin' but instead I brought flowers."

“You want credit?”

“Yeah. I’m practically a changed man. And I wouldn’t mind an apology from Wizard Boy either.”

"You've got to be kidding me." The pair on this man never ceases to amaze you.

"We were just having a little bit of friendly fisticuffs, but he fucked me up pretty good. That’s called unnecessary escalation.”

He would know. 

"Spare me the macho bullshit. There’s no such thing as friendly fisticuffs. You were going to hurt my boyfriend, and you absolutely deserved what he gave you. You’re lucky he got Midnite to lift it."

Only a beat later do you realize you called Constantine your boyfriend within earshot of everyone, which you never do, because you both hate labels and the word just seems too high school for what you actually are to each other–but there’s no going back now. 

“But–”

At last, at last, you are in a position where you don’t have to swallow his gaslighting. “No buts. You can behave yourself, Tex, or you can go. I mean it.” 

Maybe drawn by the sound of your raised voice, Constantine chooses that moment to intervene, appearing at the foot of the couch with a magnificent frown. 

“Well well, if it ain’t The Boy Who Lived.”

You know he’s just making yet another Harry Potter reference, but considering Constantine’s history, this nickname makes you flinch. Maybe it’s a mistake on your part, but you bristle. “Don’t call him that.”

Constantine, however, betrays nothing, just crossing his arms with that blandly judgy expression. “It’s alright, y/n. He loves childrens’ books–a man has to stick to his reading level.” You don't feel like arguing about the complexity of the later books, so you let the arrow fly.

You lift an eyebrow, side-eyeing Tex. “You do know an awful lot about Harry Potter for a grown ass man your age.”

For possibly the first time ever Tex actually looks sheepish. “Had to read something while I was in the shit.”

Tex never really told you much about his tour of duty in the Middle East. Bradford had intimated that it didn’t end well–but you weren’t exactly keen to take everything that asshole had said with any sort of seriousness. The thought of him holed up in a mud hut reading about Hogwarts kind of pulls at your heartstrings for some ridiculous reason. 

“So what you want, Wizard Boy?” demands Tex, insouciantly refusing to let go of your hand, despite you tugging on it.

“I was going to check your chakras for malevolence, but I'm having second thoughts now.”

“Sounds illegal in five states.”

Constantine snorts. “You want me to double check Midnite's handiwork or not? If there's a trace of darkness left it could spread– and you'll be fucked all over again.”

“Not the way I like, I'm guessin’.”

“Probably not. But then again, you seemed to like Desdemona at the club. You want an introduction?” Constantine has a sly look on his handsome face as he asks this. It must be the succubus you'd run off– the thought of Tex in contact with her again makes you vibrate with jealousy. It is sharp, and fierce, and utterly fucking irrational.

You should encourage Tex to find someone else.

Your heart just doesn't agree.

“I'll…leave you two to it,” you say, reluctantly standing to pull away out of Tex's grip.

Only belatedly, after you've retreated to your room, do you realize that maybe Constantine interrupted your tête a tête with Tex for his sake, rather than yours.

***

John Wick whips you all up a beautiful dinner of sauteed meat and vegetables, complimented with a nice bottle of dry red wine that you're sure did not come from Trader Joe's. You play his sous chef, chopping up veggies, and it almost feels like old times in the kitchen, although he never would have given you access to a big sharp knife before. As though you ever would have had the nerve to stab him. 

Tex was another matter.

At first you all sit down to share a semi-awkward meal, peppered with halting silences–until the second bottle of wine comes out, and then things flow more smoothly. It starts with Constantine cracking a joke at Tex's expense, which is surprisingly backed by Wick with a witty aside. Tex responds good naturedly, for once, and you just sit back and watch with a smile, a warm glow in your chest that feels too close to bliss to possibly last.

You help Wick with the dishes, drying as he washes because your dish rack is tiny. “You look tired, sweetheart,” he says after the last plate, bending down to kiss your forehead. You forget. You fucking forget that there are two other people there, one of whom is your current lover, and out of longing and pure habit you tilt your head back for the second staggeringly sweet kiss on your lips that always followed. 

Only a long beat later do you realize what you've done, with Wick's shining dark eyes looking down on you, missing nothing. You gasp like a scandalized school girl, taking a small step back. “You're right,” you agree. “I am tired. Good night, everyone.” You're such a coward you can't even lift your head to look at any of them, though you can feel their eyes upon you as you scurry away.

Once in the sanctuary of your room you collapse on the bed, clutching the coverlet in your claws for hands, so embarrassed by your slip that you could die. You know that Constantine loves you, even if he’s never outright said it, and honestly probably never will–and this is how you repay him. 

You really are a piece of work.

***

After you retreat, a silence falls over the kitchen, the three formidable men eyeing each other like wolves amidst a power struggle, trying to decide who is the weakest link and who is alpha. It’s Constantine who stands without a word, fetching his green glass bottle of Ardbeg single-malt scotch and setting it down in the middle of the table with a thunk. Then he produces three glasses–none matching–and pours out a finger for each. 

“Gentlemen.” He looks between the two assassins seated at his table, a part of him flabbergasted as to how he’d even ended up in this situation. Before he met you, if someone told him someday he would find a woman he loved more than the air he breathed, he would have laughed them out of the room. 

Not now. 

How the mighty are brought low, and pride goeth before a fall, and all that proverbial biblical bullshit that is old as time and yet somehow still applies. Despite all our advances, humans are still essentially the same animal we were when we first left the cave and started walking upright–or when God created Adam out of dirt, whichever you find more believable.  

“I believe we find ourselves at an impasse.”

“How you figure?” asks Tex, knocking back his drink and helping himself to another. 

“Does being in love with the same woman ring a bell?”

Wick smirks, watching the exchange between the two, sipping his scotch sparingly. He does not contradict Constantine’s assessment, but in his succinct way he drives home the finer point. “More importantly, that woman is in love with all of us.”

The thought pulls something like a growl from deep in Constantine’s chest, but in the end he acknowledges, “Exactly.”

Tex smirks, leaning on his elbows. “Don’t be sore, Wizard Boy. Be grateful we broke her in for you.”

Constantine seems to count to ten under his breath, restraining himself from unleashing a curse on this fucking cowboy again. “You’re gonna have to give me pointers on how you manage not to murder him daily,” he says to Wick. 

“I only listen to about half of what he says,” Wick admits with a smirk, a humorous glitter in his dark eyes.

“Good to know. My point is, if I curse you both into the Seventh Circle, it would hurt her. Likewise, if you two were to dig me a shallow grave out in the desert. You hurt her enough the first time. Do you follow?”

Wick nods, grasping Constantine’s train of thought immediately. Tex, however, has to chew on it a little–maybe because he’d hoped, for once, to finally have this girl to himself. 

“You’re saying you don’t mind sharin’,” finally says Tex with a shit-eating grin, leaning back in his chair. 

“Oh, I mind,” Constantine is sure to clarify. “But it’s up to her, if she wants you or not. If she decides she wants you to go–I will make you go. If she wants you to stay…” He spreads his big hands, as though to say, we’ll figure it out. Somehow.  

Tex narrows his eyes, clearly debating if he should pick a fight over the make you go part, or take it as it sits on the table. “And how do you propose we let her know what we decided about this?”

Constantine snorts at that, draining his glass and standing from the table. “That’s your problem, Howdy Doody. Good night–and may the best man win.” The two assassins watch as John Constantine crosses to your bedroom, and practically shuts the door in their faces. 

***

You are drifting on the edge of sleep when Constantine crawls into bed with you. You smile as you feel the familiar pattern of the depression in the mattress, and moan with surprise as he covers your mouth with his. You taste the Ardbeg on his tongue, which explains some of his ardor, but not all. The fury of his kisses on your lips and neck pulls an involuntary moan from deep in your lungs, his big hands digging into the flesh of your thigh, pulling you on top of him. 

“John…?” Utterly star-struck, you blink down at him, disheveled in your pajama t-shirt and your hair a mess. He reaches up to cup your cheek, dwarfing your face in his large hand, studying you like there will be a test later. He opens his mouth like there’s something he wants to say to you, but he can’t quite get it out, the words stuck in his throat. 

You think you know what it is, and your heart warms for it, that tingling thrill filling your chest and spreading outwards. You’re not even mad, that he can’t say it, because you get him. This is not the week you’re going to push him out of his comfort zone, more than you already have. Most of LA would laugh to hear it, but John Constantine has been a veritable fucking saint the past couple of days, and you’re so grateful to him. 

“It’s ok,” you say softly, tracing the line of his square jaw. “I know.” 

He frowns, almost like he wants to argue, but in the end he just shakes his head and pulls you to him.

You want to apologize for almost kissing John Wick right in fucking front of him–but that sticks in your throat too. You guess you’re both just a little raw tonight.

He peels off your t-shirt greedily as he guides you down. Hungry lips and a teasing tongue find the sensitive tips of your breasts, making you squirm with longing above him. You know you’ve already soaked through the laughable barrier of your panties, and are probably leaving an unsightly stain on his nice (200 dollar, he likes to tell you with a smirk) white shirt–but if the Chinese laundry down the street can get out demon blood stains, what’s a little cum?

You let out a cry of longing as he releases your nipple with a pop; the ache between your thighs is already nearly unbearable, and you can't stop yourself from grinding against his lean torso. You shut your mouth as soon as you open it, conscious of the paper thin walls and the two dangerous men on the other side of them.

“You like that, baby?” he taunts, hooking his fingers in your panties to tug them down.

“You know I do,” you pant. 

“Then let me hear you,” he invites with a wicked smirk, shifting down so that you are nearly sitting on his face. You don’t know what was said out there, but you are starting to get the idea that John Constantine is up to something. But before you can even begin to think what to do about it, he pulls you forward with an undeniable grip on your thighs, and his tongue is laving up your slit.

“Fuck.”

This exclamation is not quiet, and neither are the ones after it. You practically shake the walls with your cries when you cum on his tongue, your body rendered into a quivering mess of over-stimulated nerves. He does not grant you mercy, even when you beg him, and by the time he is done with you, you are halfway to your second orgasm.

“Do you want me baby?” he demands, panting from his champion cunnilingus league exertions as he undresses himself. There is a desperation in his tone you’ve never quite heard before, and you have a feeling he’s not just talking about sex.

“I need you,” you tell him, and you mean every word. It wins you every inch of his hard cock buried inside you, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning, as though there is no room for breath in your body when filled with his impressive manhood. He grips you hard enough to bruise, his face buried in the bend of your neck.

He drives himself inside of you, hips pumping with the fury of his need, but he’s prepared you for it. It’s all you can do just to hold on, to the bed, to him, letting him use you exactly the way he wants to, because you know the past couple of days have been anything but easy for him. 

When his thumb finds your clit you think you might die from the overwhelming sensation of it. “No,” you beg, somehow smiling through your exasperation. “Please. Mercy.”

He just pays you that impish curl of lips that always seriously makes you question which side he's playing for. “You can take it,” he informs you. “For me?” The way he pouts down at you while simultaneously rearranging your insides should be illegal.

“Fuck,” you swear again, and he grins down at you, knowing he’s got you in the bag. With your ankles around his ears he slows down for you, but still fills you to the absolute brim, working you in just the rhythm he knows you need with the tip of his too-clever thumb. There is a heart wrenching beauty in making love like this. The two of you have reached an understanding of each other's bodies, a point of familiarity in which you just know, and yet somehow each time is better than the last.

It isn't long before you cum on his cock with a ragged scream that you know there’s no way in hell the boys didn’t hear, yet you cannot stop it, you cannot care, because the man inside you has rendered you into a vessel for this mind-bending pleasure and in this moment, you belong completely to him. His hips snap against yours, and soon he follows with your greedy little cunt fluttering around him, spilling himself inside you with a loud groan.

He collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. You revel in the sticky warmth of his seed seeping between your thighs, his heart a furious drumbeat beneath your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ,” is all you can manage to wheeze against the warmth of his chest.

“Right initials,” he pants, pressing lips to your hair. “Wrong guy.”

Thinking you really might have lost your mind, you start to cackle, and you can’t stop until you literally can’t breathe. You do not even have the energy to clean up, falling asleep in the beautiful mess John made of you, and maybe it’s just you, but even in his sleep John Constantine seems to hold you more tightly than he ever has before.

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

😬

it's on? 😈😈😈

@sweetwolfcupcake @treedaddymcpuffpuff @tammykelly

[freyarabbit]

Yep! Sure thing. I appreciate the detail you added in the request! It helps alot! 💖

◆¡Can't be sneaky with six eyes around!◆

request.1

[9:24 pm]

It's almost thirty minutes past your bedtime. Though that may sound childish, considering your job as of now was far from it. But a fixed bedtime was a necessity, if you wanted to be able to wake up early in the morning without being tired out of your mind.

But, just for today, you sacrificed that, after receiving quite the peculiar message by Megumi, asking you to come over. It's true you need sleep, but Megumi's definitely more important. Plus, this invitation was simply irresistible. You wouldn't want your boyfriend to get all mad and pouty, would you?

Both of you barely got time to do...stuff together during the day because of your horrible jobs, hard studies and clingy friends. Night time was the best to avoid getting caught too.

Slowly making your way over to him from the hallway, being as quiet as possible not to wake up Yuuji, even though you knew how much of a deep sleeper he is.

You opened his door swiftly without knocking "hey" you saw him already standing at the entrance for you, as he pulled you into a kiss, leaving you stunned for a second.

His arms enveloped around you as you both stumbled towards his bed, your minds too focused on each other to keep it down and realize how noisy the wooden floorboards were getting with their creaking. Something you may or may not regret later.

At the quiet and eerie entrance of the jujutsu tech Dormitories, the strongest sorcerer Gojo Satoru, or otherwise known as an annoying goofball by his students, was sneaking around to get his wallet back, which he'd left there by accident, having been busy as hell annoying a certain black haired boy.

He'd figured all of you would be asleep by now, so it would be okay for him to just quietly go in and out.

As he got the brown wallet in his grasp, his sharp ears picked up what sounded like creaking, giggles and whines. Surprisingly, he didn't know what was going on immediately, instead, blindly approaching the source.

Noticing Megumi's door creaked open, he looked in, his eyes widening due to what was before him.

You right beneath him, as he kissed your cheeks, lips, forehead and what not.

Unlike a normal person, who'd probably back away as quickly as possible to avoid getting caught watching, he just let out a loud gasp.

Megumi felt his heart literally jump out of his chest, but not the way it does when he sees you. It was different. Fear and annoyance taking over him, while you looked at the white haired man with your jaw dropped, embarrassment washing over you.

"YOU BOTH ARE TOGETHER LIKE THIS ALREADY?? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?" He said, in disbelief that the boy he raised since he was 6 years old hadn't told him about his love life.

Megumi looked back at him with an expression that you could only describe as furious but defeated at the same time.

"Will you keep it down?! Do you not know how to knock?? Stop embarrassing me."

You could've sword you saw the biggest blush appearing on his features, as he avoided making eye contact with anyone. You chuckled, which turned into laughter.

This made him turn his toward you, his brows furrowed,

"Seriously???"

Quickly looking back at Gojo he spoke low

"I swear to God if you tell anyone and ruin my life for the hundredth time-"

Gojo Satoru sighs, pouting as he replied, "Fine fine, I won't tell or whatever."

He jokingly scoffed and left, the sounds of you and Megumi discussing the situation could be heard as he did, a few things were running through his mind. He knew both of you had alot of chemistry, but he didn't think you'd get into that much far of a point in your relationship without him knowing. He was glad both of you could feel like normal teenagers for once, but anxiety was still eating away at him deep down. He couldn't let anything ruin this. Which could be hard. He mentally swore to protect all his students, especially Megumi and you.

A smile stretched across his face, as he walked out.

Alright! That was it! I hope this met your expectations! <3

[heeaddict]

good girl - LHS

fem!reader x gamer!heeseung

!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!

WARNINGS: smut/nsfw, finger sucking, trying not to get caught, blowjob, unprotected sex, cockwarming, trying to be quiet, cursing, teasing.

“Heeseungg~”, you whined from your boyfriend’s bed. He had asked you over and was just playing games with his friends, Sunghoon, Jay and Jake. 

He gave you back a little hum, focusing more on his game, than you calling him. You huffed loudly, and stood up from the bed. You slowly walked behind his gaming chair, and wrapped your arms around his upper body as well as you could, despite the chair. A small smile formed on Heeseung’s lips, other hand softly patting your own. 

Again, you had waited for more. You started peppering kisses on his cheek, which made him giggle quietly.

“What are you laughing at, man?” You heard Jake’s voice trough Heeseung’s headphones. “Ah, it’s nothing”, he smiled, but you didn’t like his answer. 

“What do you mean, nothing, Hee?” You asked, moving his hands away. You could hear the boys cooing for Heeseung. You rolled your eyes in annoyance, and walked away. You were so upset with him, for not giving you attention at all.

“Aish...” He muttered under his breath, “baby?” You didn’t answer. You decided to ignore him just like he had ignored you. “Honey~” He sang with a sweet voice, sending butterflies to your stomach, but you tried to ignore them, you were mad at him, remember? 

Loud fake gagging could be heard through his headphones, and Heeseung rolled his eyes. “Shut the fuck up...” He muttered before muting his mic. He stopped playing the game for a while, turning his chair on your way. 

You were laying on your stomach, hugging one of Heeseung’s pillows. The position you were in, brought up your ass, and without even realizing, Heeseung was already staring. 

He shook his head to clear his mind and called you over again. “My love... Come here, hm? I’m sorry for ignoring you”, he sang, and tapped his lap. “Would you like to sit here and watch me play?” 

You stayed quiet. 

“Hm.. I guess I’ll have to ignore you again then”, he smirked, turning away from you. “Nooo~” You whined weakly. He smiled as you crawled out of his bed, and slowly approached him. “Aw, you’re so fucking cute” You blushed deeply at his words, and just buried yourself in his arms. This time, he started a circular motion on your back, petting you for a while. Then he heard Jay’s scream for him to come back and save them, and he continued playing. 

You stared at his hands hungrily. The veins popping out were so sexy, and when he had to move his fingers on the keyboard- fuck! 

You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter every second, by just staring at his hands.

fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

Heeseung noticed you acting strange, and asked what’s wrong. Then he noticed the staring, and smirked. That’s when he started to flex his muscles to pop out the veins even more, just to tease you. 

You accidentally let out a soft whimper, and your mouth being just beside the mic of Heeseung’s headphones, the guys heard it loud and clear. 

“Yo man what the fuck!?” “Bro getting some!”

Heeseung hurriedly turned the mic off, and stared at you. “I- I’m really sorry, I know should be quiet, I couldn’t help it! Y- Your ha- hands- they- they-” You stuttered weakly, but Heeseung silenced you with a kiss. As he pulled away, you pulled him back in. His tongue automatically started a journey in your mouth, as you let out more whimpers and soft moans. 

When you finally let him pull away, a string of saliva connected your lips. He gave you one more peck before speaking.

“Okay baby, here’s the rules. You can do whatever you want with me, just be quiet. I don’t want the guys to hear you. Understood, love?” You nodded rapidly. “Okay, let’s start.” He got back to his game and unmuted the mic, as you went to attack his neck with kisses and love bites. The feeling of you soft and warm tongue on his sensitive neck felt so good, it was more hard for him to keep the noises from coming out. 

Then you noticed his other hand was free at the moment and grabbed it. Heeseung understood the assignment, and stuck out two fingers seprate from the others. You immediately took the in your mouth, and started to suck on them. 

Heeseung could only feel you tongue on his fingers kitty licking them, and imagine the sounds that you would let out if you two were completely alone.

He closed his eyes for a second, as he enjoyed the touch of your tongue. He could feel a boner starting to make its way to his pants, and sighed quietly.

As he continued playing, you freed his fingers from your mouth, and lowered down to the floor in front of Heeseung. You aligned yourself between his legs, tying your hair up fastly. Heeseung licked the saliva off his fingers, and looked down. You were now playing with the strings of his sweatpants, and pressing sofly on his growing boner. He had to swallow the sounds from coming out of his mouth, and tried to focus more on the game.

You slowly pulled down the sweatpants, along with his boxers. You pumped on his cock a few times, just admiring his huge size. Then you slowly swirled your tongue on his tip, and Heeseung's mouth dropped open from pleasure.

“Heeseung, man? Are you afk?”

Jake’s voice ringed his ears as he tried not to moan. He cleared his throat, and answered. “N-nah man I just zoned out for a bit- “ His sentence got cut off by you humming quietly against his dick, sending vibrations to his whole body, and him inhailing a bit too sharply. Jake chuckled. “Sure bro, whatever you say”

You bobbed your head on his dick until you started to taste the salty cum which was slowly dripping out of his cock. That’s when you puloed off of him, and climbed back on top of him. You slowly slided your mini-shorts on your knees, which left you with your panties.

Heeseung couldn’t help but stare, biting his plump bottom lip.He slowly creeped his hand towards your bottom, and slipped it in your panties, eyes flickering as he felt how wet you were. You felt a blush creep in your face as he moved his fingers a bit. Then you remembered, he had said for you to do anything you want with him, so you decided to take care of yourself this time. You grabbed his hand and brought it up to his mouth. Heeseung smirked, looking at you. You tilted your head with a smile, and mouthed, ‘lick’.

Withput hesitation, Heeseung stuck his tongue out, and licked your pre-cum off his fingers. After that, he just casually continued the game.

Fuck, that was hot.

You both thought to yourselves.

You started to slowly remove your undies, and positioning yourself on Heeseung. You grip on the fabric of his t-shirt as you push down on him and he automatically takes a protective hold of your waist. You grip on his chest as he hisses quietly. You try to breath slowly, but its becoming very hard, so you try to gesture for Heeseung to mute his mic. He fourtunately gets it, and hurriedly mutes his mic. 

As soon as you hear the pling soumg of his mic muting, you exhale agressively. 

“H- heeseungie, I don’t think I can keep quiet- ah~” You moaned, as he bottomed out. 

“It’s alright, love, I’ll keep it muted.” He reassured, and helped you move with his hand on your hip. He continued gaming with one hand, and you moved on his dick. Once it didn’t hurt anymore, you increased in speed, jumping on his dick now. The sounds coming out of you were making Heeseung harder and harder, and he was throbbing inside of you. You both were close.

“Good girl, just like that..” Heeseung exhaled, making you whimper. You pressed your head on his shoulder, breathing hotly against his neck.

“You think you can be quiet if i turn the mic back on?”

He asked after hearing the boys yell for him to turn the mic on. You hesitated but nodded, biting down on your bottom lip, moving even quicker. “Alright, he let out a small groand before taking a deep breath and turning the mic on. 

“Finally, bro! What are you doing?” You heard Jay ask. Heeseung cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “Sorry, I was talking to y/n” He said with a shaky voice, which made all the boys laugh. “Oh yeah, sure, talking” Sunghoon laughed, making a fake gulping sound after. “Shut up-” Heeseung yelled, but left the last word short because he could feel his high coming, and he inhaled sharply.

He moved the mic away from his mout, and whispered to your ear. “D’you wanna let everyone know who you belong to? D’you wanna let them know how good I make you feel?” He asked with a deep quiet voice, making you moan out loud, which made Heeseung cum inside you with a deep groan. He soothed your waist, while you came too. “Good girl” He whispered and kissed your head, which was still against his shoulder.

You could hear loud yelling from his headphones, like “YO MAN WHAT THE FUCK!?” “Did we just witness you and y/n fucking!?” and fake gagging, but all Heeseung replied with was a laugh, and a “I do not even know what you all are talking about” 

His hand rested on your hip, as you just sat on his soft cock, just enjoying the feeling on being full. The cum dripping out of your pussy was the only uncomfortable thing in that situation. You cockwarmed him for the rest of the game, almost falling asleep in his arms, as the hand had left your hip and moved to your hair, playing with it. Then you heard loud yelling coming from your boyfriends headphones, and he yelled “YO WE DID IT!!” 

You waited patiently as he quit the game and said goodbye to his friends. He then placed his hands on your waist, and helped you pull off of his soft dick with a small wince. “You did so good, love” You smiled sleepily, and whispered, “I love you, Lee..” He chuckled, carrying you to the shower now. “I love you, l/n”

[nap-thym3]

I’ll Eat You Whole

Bob Velseb/Reader | Ch: 1, First Encounter

• Word Count: 5,217 •

When a scare-actor comes across the real-deal, you barely manage to escape by the skin of your teeth. However, in the aftermath of your encounter, you’re left with more questions than answers.

Who was he? Why didn’t he kill you when he had the chance? And why was he kinda…

Anyways. Now caught in a deadly game of cat-and-mouse, you have to quickly figure out what role you play. Will you survive? Or will you be swallowed whole?

Wild cackles spill from your throat, disjointed and borderline hysterical. A giant chainsaw roars to life in your hands, the bloodied business-end a warning. The constant vibrations from the motor making your very bones feel tingly and near numb with pins and needles.

The blood coursing through your veins feels electric, super-charged in a way that you only ever feel when you’re giving chase.

For all intents and purposes, you were dressed to kill.

Ahead, a group of teenagers shriek for their lives, pushing and shoving at each other in a desperate mad scrawl to escape.

Giggling dementedly, you cheekily taunt the pair. Some cheesy one-liner that you’ve already used maybe thirty times tonight.

In response, the blond, shaggy haired boy unkindly shoves at his friend, looking honestly a little pale. God, you hoped he wouldn’t vomit. The last thing you needed was for this kid to puke in your section.

“Damn it— move Craig, move! They’re coming right this way!”

Craig, you’re assuming, laughs mischievously. Arms and legs spread out wide and hooked onto the exit’s doorframe like a human barricade. Effectively blocking his friend from passing through, reveling in the panicked shouts and desperate pleas to move.

“Chill! They’re not even that scary!” Craig manages between full-bellied chuckles.

You cluck your tongue, bouncing from foot to foot impatiently. You had a strict schedule, and didn’t really have the time to play a game of chicken with these two before the next group passed through.

Panting, you try to subtly rub your face against your shoulder, sweat-slicked baby-hair clung uncomfortably to your clammy skin. Slowly, as to not alert the oblivious pair as they squabbled, you crept forward. Quietly making your way over, inch by inch, until you were only a meager three steps away.

“Fuck you Craig! I swear to god, if you don’t move in the next five seconds, I’m gonna—“

Reaching down, you cut the power to your chainsaw. The pair, still oblivious and too caught up in their back and forth, fail to notice the abrupt silence.

Before anymore grating arguing can spill, your reach out, gently reaching over the blonde’s shoulder and gently poking the troublemaker with your index.

The pair, having momentarily forgotten all about you, whip their heads around. The action is done so quickly, you’re half surprised they hadn’t snapped their necks. Their eyes were wide and terrified as they watched with bated breath. You offer nothing but a playful little finger wag; deceptively casual, before lunging forward and delivering a scream so fried, most metal-heads would’ve applauded.

You barely have enough time to clear your throat before the teens are tripping over one another, a messy pile of limbs as they half-crawl on all fours. Before then remembering that, yes, they did indeed have legs. And that yes, they should probably use those.

Man, you loved Halloween.

Hours later, and the haunted house’s endless waves of shrieking crotch-goblins and thrill-seeking teens had finally slowed to a light trickle. Granted, it wasn’t all that surprising. With it being the busiest night of the year, after all. The attraction had been at near full capacity all night, guests squashed together like canned sardines with seemingly no end in sight.

It wasn’t until just a little after midnight when the non-stop traffic of people had finally slowed to a trickle, that you realized just how loud it had been. The abrupt quiet left only the looping audio of groaning ghouls playing from outdated speakers hidden in dark corners. You’d honestly forgotten there was any background ambience to begin with, when all you could hear for eight long and grueling hours was the screams of the horrified.

God, you were so glad you had the foresight to bring a bottle of Tylenol with you.

With little more fanfare, the annual haunt had officially closed for the year. The end of the final shift was marked with exhausted high-fives, sighs of relief, and more than a few of your coworkers tearing off sticky prosthetics like their skin had been itching something fierce for hours.

Quickly, actors were dispersing and heading home for a well-earned night’s rest. But not you.

No, you’d gone and volunteered for one last task: the final sweep.

It was your favorite part of the job. Wandering through the darkened maze of the building, making sure no drunk idiots had keeled over and passed out in a coffin or gotten stuck between the walls of the mirror maze. Occasionally, you’d even find a late-night straggler who thought it’d be the bee’s knees to hide and loiter around until everyone left. Those ones were the best. Scaring the hell out of someone who thought they were smarter than the rest? Totally oblivious that they weren’t alone, and wouldn’t have the last laugh?

Better than any therapy session. Free, too.

Tonight felt different, though. The air seemed heavier in the aftermath of the long season, as if the building itself was holding its breath. But maybe that was just your imagination. It was all too easy for these dark corridors to play on your anxiety.

Shaking it off, you adjusted your grip on the prop chainsaw you carried, the dull heft of it a grounding weight. Despite the fact that it wasn’t real, it still gave you an illusion of safety.

As you tiredly shambled your way through the maze of halls, fantasizing about your plush mattress waiting for you back at home, you trod into a room chalk-full of fog. The familiar, smokey scent a pleasant balm over your pulsing migraine. Someone must’ve forgot to turn off the fog-machines, you figure. You couldn’t really find it in yourself to blame them for wanting to go home as soon as possible after tonight.

Turning a corner, you stop dead in your tracks as your eyes hone in on a distant shape.

Ahead, barely visible in the foggy gloom, was the hulking silhouette of a person.

Your heart gave a little leap of excitement. A straggler, ripe for the spooking!

Grinning, you bend your knees into a half-crouch, keeping close to the wall as you quietly crept forward. The flickering lights overhead did little to illuminate the figure, but you didn’t need to see much. You knew this maze like the back of your hand and could strut these halls blindfolded. No dumb teens stood a chance against you.

Close enough now to start feeling the ramping rush of adrenaline, you gave the chainsaw in your hands a few hard tugs. It sputters. Once, twice, before roaring to life on the third pull. The sound of the faux engine roaring to life bounces against the walls of the narrow hall, creating a cacophony throughout the desolate space.

The figure, hunched over something on the ground— please don’t be vomit, please don’t be vomit— straightened slowly. And kept straightening up, reaching a towering height all the while remaining completely unbothered by your approach.

Well. That wasn’t the reaction you’d been expecting. Usually, this was the point in time where people screamed, turned tail, and ran. Or at the very least flinched in surprise.

Real or not, people had a tendency to allow fear to overtake their rationality. It was hard not to, when somebody was chasing you, swinging around a chainsaw in an enclosed space. There was little time to think, just scream and run. Which was great for you.

Annoyed, you take several menacing steps closer, brandishing your chainsaw and revving the engine promisingly. It typically made even the most jaded customer uneasy. But the figure didn’t even react. Was this guy deaf?

“Alright, tough guy,” you muttered under your breath, squinting to get a better look at them.

Through the flickering lighting, you could just make out a worn, burgundy turtleneck and a matching devil mask to boot. Pointed horns perched atop their crown, casting jagged shadows across the walls. In one hand, they held a cleaver—large, wickedly sharp, and dripping with what looked unmistakably like blood. Thick, dark rivulets of it that clung to the blade and fell in slow, pattering drops onto the floor.

Oh. So maybe not a guest.

Sighing with slight disappointment, the muscles in your legs that’d been tensed in preparation to give chase slackened.

“Nice getup,” you called out over the rev of the chainsaw, lowering it slightly before cutting the power off altogether in order to be heard more clearly.

“Sorry— thought you were a guest. Y’know, we closed like… Half an hour ago, right? You can go home.”

The figure tilted their head, confused maybe, before turning towards you fully. Behind them, something was sprawled across the floor—a crumpled, unrecognizable heap in a pool of blackened liquid.

You squinted, trying to make sense of the shape. Some kind of prop, probably. From your vantage you could just make out bone-white, jutting ribs blooming from the gorey mass. Indescribable lumps spill from the open cavity, glistening in the low-light. Most likely meant to look like exposed guts.

Your stomach roils unpleasantly at the sight. That was some pretty convincing stuff. Not typically what you saw in here, considering this haunt advertised itself as nothing too intense— for the younger audience.

Your attention is redirected, when the stranger shuffles closer.

“Didja know,” they spoke— tone baritone and unmistakably male, with a honeyed southern drawl, “human meat tastes most similarly like pork?”

You shuffle in place awkwardly as the man completely ignores your previous words. Your brain buffers, struggling to formulate the right words. Quickly, you decide to go with the tried and true method when dealing with odd social encounters. Polite enthusiasm.

A nervous laugh bubbles up in your throat, forced and strained.

“That’s… uh, great trivia,” you stammered, looking around, confused. Why was he insisting on dragging out the bit? It was just the two of you. Right? “Um. You really don’t have to keep acting though. Like I said before, we’re done for the night, so…”

You trail off as the man took another lumbering step closer, his boots squelching in the messy viscera underfoot.

You stepped back instinctively at his unhurried advance, your gaze darting between the cleaver in his fist and the mangled body behind him. It wasn’t real, right? It certainly didn’t feel real.

Yet all the while something kept nagging persistently in the back of your skull, your gut telling you something was deeply wrong here.

Why don’t you remember this guy? Surely you would’ve seen him at least once in passing if he worked here? Yet try as you may to recollect your scrambled thoughts, you can’t for the life of you recall.

Faintly, you heard the ‘whoosh’ing of the overhead fan as it was powered to life. One of you had tripped the motion trigger, a practical effect meant to disorient you. Bombard your senses and overwhelm the intended target for a better scare— or something along those lines. The finer details escaped you in this moment.

It was only as a fresh burst of circulated air wafted in your direction, that the smell hit you. You were expecting something mildly sweet. Like liquid corn-starch and colored food-dye.

The scent that assaults you instead, is anything but. Coppery and acrid, like licking a battery.

This was real. Like, really real.

It hits abruptly, and it hits you hard. The chainsaw in your hands suddenly felt too light, too useless. You took a half-step backwards, swallowing hard as a cold dread crept up your spine.

The pounding war-drum of your pulse roared in your ears as panic began to set in. “Okay,” you said, your voice thin and wispy.

You swallow again, clearing the cotton-dry feeling in your mouth and try injecting some authority back into your tone. You don’t think you quite hit the mark. “Okay. Uh, You’re— You’re not supposed to be here, man.”

The stranger says nothing. Just smiles and stalks forward, cleaver raised and poised to slash.

Alarm bells blare in your head as you backpedal, frantically twisting to turn back the way you came.

He lunged.

You barely had any time to throw the chainsaw up between you as the cleaver arced through the air. A resounding ‘crack’ rippled through the air as steel met cheap plastic, the force of the swing knocking the prop straight out of your hands. As it clattered to the floor, useless, you only had one thought.

You were so screwed.

You scramble to keep your balance and maintain a sliver of distance as the man advanced, his movements slow but deliberate. Like a cat batting around a mouse.

In one sudden move, he swung again, forcing you to dodge with a wild stumble to the side. The motion sent you skidding on the slick floor, your shoes struggling to find traction on the grimy surface smeared with blood.

Turning your head to the side, you just now notice the man’s sweater-clad arm brushing against your cheek— caging you in.

He’d missed— No, that’s not right. You’d dodged.

The giant cleaver was stubbornly embedded into the wall beside you, right where your head had been not even a second previously. And it was stuck.

With a panicked noise, you duck under his right arm. Narrowly escaping him as his left hand had just barely brushed against the back of your costume.

“Shit!” you hissed, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. The acidic stench of gore clawed at the back your nostrils— it’s real, it’s real!—, threatening to gag you as you struggled to wrangle your limbs into cooperation and go.

Behind you, you catch the sound of the man grunting as he ripped his weapon of choice out of the wall. Quickly followed by his deliberate steps behind you, steady and unhurried. Completely sure of himself.

It only served to spur you into a clumsy, mad sprint.

The maze of hallways felt suffocatingly narrow, the walls pressing in on you with every corner you turned. Your mind scrambled for an escape route, or-or a familiar face, for anything at all that could give you an edge. But the layout, once so familiar, now felt like a disorienting trap.

Behind you, the man’s steps falter, the sound echoing faintly in the cavernous space.

You turned your head, just a cursory glance over your shoulder to gage his distance, but that split-second look had cost you.

Your foot hit something—a stray, thick cable for some electronic or another. Your balance vanished, and you went down— hard. Your palms shot out before yourself, slapping the cold and sticky floor. Pain shot up your wrists as they took the brunt of the impact, but it barely registered in your panic-addled brain.

The heavy thud of boots snapped your attention back to your aggressor, and you looked up to see him closing the distance. The cleaver raised high, winking promisingly in the stage-light.

Feral and desperate, you crawled back on your elbows. No other thought in your brain except to get away.

Another step forward, and his foot caught on the same cord that had betrayed you. His confident stride faltered, his boot sliding out from under him.

It would’ve been a comical sight in literally any other circumstance.

As he stumbled forward with a startled grunt, his massive frame pitched off-balance as he wildly swung his arms outwards in a desperate search for purchase.

It wasn’t much of an opening, but a split second decision needed to be made.

Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you surprise yourself.

Instead of taking the opportunity to keep running, like literally any other sane person would do in your situation, you’d leapt. Right on-top of your attacker.

Your arm whips out and catch’s his neck, capturing him in a headlock. Or it would’ve, if the damn guy wasn’t built like a fucking rottweiler.

The man lets out a noise between a half-aborted chuckle and cough at the unexpected restriction. Large hands scrabbling for purchase against your forearm, nails raking angry red lines across your skin. You curse at the slight sting, yet remain firmly saddled to his broad back, legs firmly locked at his sides. Even as he wildly thrashes, you hold on with all your might— like you would on a bucking bull at the carnival. Knowing you’d be facing pain far worse than a few scratches if you failed, you swing your other arm around, firmly clasping your hand against your opposing wrist and pulling it taut as hard as you could. The muscles in your arms burn at the prolonged stretch, but no matter how much it aches and feels like your arm could pop out of its socket at any moment, you hold firm.

“Feisty lil’ treat, ain’t’cha?” The mysterious man manages through a gasping grunt, meaty digits wriggling between the space of your arm and his reddening neck.

White-hot anger sears at the forefront of your mind. Just who the hell did he think he was? You did the scares and crappy one-liners around here, bitch.

With a snarl against the nape of his neck, his onyx hair tickling your nose, you act on impulse.

Before anymore teases or taunts can be made in that southern drawl you’re quickly coming to despise, you bare your teeth and bite down at the exposed clammy flesh just peeking above the burgundy sweater smattered with someone else’s blood.

Your attacker gasps, stumbling backwards as he vainly attempts to reach behind himself and dislodge you. All the while you clamp down harder, teeth aching with the force not meant for your blunt pearly-whites.

The acrid, metal tang of iron bleeds onto your tongue— a bitter taste that you’re thankfully not subjected to for long as the mountain of a man loses his footing once again. The wires looping around his ankle in the struggle. Sending him stumbling backward one, two, three paces before his back harshly met the wall.

Ergo, you as well.

The abrupt force of the entirety of the man’s weight hitting you like a freight train, pinning you against the wall, is already bad enough. What makes the shitty situation even worse, is that your aggressor wastes no time in taking your momentary shock and striking.

Lighting quick, you don’t even have time to shout or attempt rolling away as an elbow jabs into your diaphragm with startling accuracy.

The response is instantaneous, as the muscle in your chest seizes— momentarily paralyzed.

You crumple inwards, leaning against the grimy wall for support as you gasp and heave for air. All the while uselessly clutching at the collar of your shirt, struggling and fighting for oxygen that your lungs are seemingly incapable of drawing in at this moment.

Faintly, out of the corner of your eye, you recognize the stranger as he stalks forward. Knife clutched in an angry, white-knuckled fist.

As you’re kneeling hunched on the floor, breathing in harsh pants— but breathing, nonetheless— your eyes dip downwards. Catching the slim portion of skin peeking just above the collar of his stained turtleneck, nearly as red as the devil mask he dons as a result of the damage you’ve wrought.

‘Bites and strangulation’s a good look on him.’ You think to yourself deliriously, as a toothy, blood-soaked grin tears proudly across your face.

The man, taking notice of your face smeared with his own blood, cocks his head to the side. Considering.

Defiantly, you jut your chin upwards. Wordless in your challenge but a challenge nonetheless.

Devil-guy chuckles at your show of bravado, his own smile hitching impossibly higher, the pinks of his gums winking at you.

With a thudding step, and another, he shambles towards you. Stalking. Slow and steady, completely unbothered. He’s got you backed into a corner now and he knows it. Wants you to know it, too.

Feeling hopeless, you can do little more than press yourself flush against the wall. With nowhere else to go, and sufficiently crowded by this guy, you brace for impact.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you feel the heavy, damp breath fanning over your sweat-slicked face as he leans over you. Even without your eyes open, you can feel the lofty weight of his unabashed staring. Despite this, you resist the urge to kick or swing. You already knew it was futile, and anymore resistance would surely be met with a swift rebuttal.

The moment stretches on, a long silence filled with nothing but your intermingling pants occupying the cramped space. Faintly, you hear the looping audio of the haunted-house’s ambient audio. Previously, you’d already had a strong dislike for the downright cheesy moans and groans of the supposed supernatural, interspersed with distant howling. However, in this moment, you despise nothing more. As for the umpteenth time, a distant shriek pierces the quiet. It feels mocking, somehow.

Something warm and wet drips onto your cheek, rolling down your flushed face. Goose flesh erupts along your shoulders as you nearly jump out of your skin at the unexpected sensation. Thankfully however, you do nothing more than flinch, before cautiously peering through squinted eyelids.

Above you, your attacker openly drools. Spittle forming and accumulating along his bottom lip, before trailing down his chin. All while his wobbly pupils minutely shift, raptured and ravenously watching every micro expression flitting across your face.

Nervously, you gulp. Before reflexively wetting your own lips in a practiced, anxious habit. It’s not until you taste copper that you remember you still have flakey, dried blood staining your maw. Gross.

The man above, however, has clearly different opinions as he erupts into a full-bodied shiver. The tips of his ears flushing a bright pink.

Okay. Noted.

He lingers, eyes eagerly raving over the dried streak of blood on your lips with unnerving intensity. You squirm, uncomfortable and feeling like a pinned frog, ripe for dissection. Something feral flits across his expression as you wriggle, a startling hunger, before he raises a hand to wipe the drool from his chin with the back of his sleeve.

“Look at’cha,” he mutters, his voice low, husky. There’s a disconcerting undercurrent of amusement beneath the words, like he’s speaking more to himself than to you. “Wild as a bearcat. ‘Love it when they got a bit of fight in ‘em.”

He squats down to your level, his massive frame moving with surprising grace. You’re keenly aware of just how little space exists between you, his knees nearly brushing yours as his free hand, fingers wide and blunt, presses firmly to the wall beside your head. A cage. One he doesn’t intend to let you squirrel through this time.

Seeming content to just stare at you for the moment, cleaver still clutched in his other hand and catching slivers of light. Angling it lazily, almost conversationally, near your face.

At your clear terror, he withdraws. You relax— at least, as much as you’re able to in this guy’s presence—, a shaky exhale leaving you as he does so.

It doesn’t last long though, of course. As you’re once again tensing up all over again, breath hitching as he raises it to his own mouth instead, the flat of the blade skimming his lips. He slurps at the excess there, his tongue then darting out to lave over the steel, before finally pulling it away. His smile widens, and he makes a soft sound, thoughtful. Like he was out taste-testing cheese and not savoring the blood of the innocent.

“You—” your voice cracks, chest aching, lungs still struggling to catch up. You cough and try again, forcing as much venom as you can muster into your words. “You’re sick.”

“And yer stupid,” he counters quickly, his grin unwavering, a flash of teeth that gleam wetly in the pale light. “But I don’t reckon that’s news to either of us.”

A tense moment of silence passes.

“Ya bite hard,” he muses, disrupting the momentary quiet. As though that’s a normal thing to compliment. Is it a compliment? “Bet’cha I bite harder, though.”

The words sink in slowly, and your stomach twists, blood flushing up your neck. Something in your expression—your attempt to recoil while still pressed helplessly to the wall—delights him further. Like you’re tethered together by a string, he follows your pitiful attempt for personal-space. Never letting you forget for even a moment how helpless you really were.

“Ya weren’t s’pposed to be here, treat.” His free hand lifts from the wall, fingers brushing against the sweat-slicked edge of your jaw. The touch is light, deceptively gentle. However, it’s ruined by how his hands feel like a loaded gun against your skin. Knowing that at any moment, he could snuff you out.

He drags his thumb down your jaw, just barely grazing the space between your lip and chin. The blade stays in his other hand, ominously idle but never forgotten.

You jerk your head to the side with a sharp inhale, dislodging his touch, and finally manage to spit out a weak, “Don’t.” You didn’t even really know what you were refusing. The nickname? Touch? Your inevitable demise? Maybe all of the above.

He chuckles fondly—a deep, guttural sound that reverberates in your chest, too close, too intimate. “Sure thing. Treat.”

Your fists clench at your sides, nails digging into your palms hard enough to leave stinging crescents in their wake. “What do you want?” you snap, the edge of your voice sharper now despite the wobble. You’re desperate to gain back some sense of control, some foothold in this surreal nightmare.

His grin softens, just slightly, into something more contemplative. “Want?” he repeats, as though tasting the word on his tongue. “Don’t’cha see, darlin’? I already got what I want.” He leans in even closer, his forehead almost brushing yours.

The words hang in the air like a death sentence. Your stomach flip-flops, dread curling tight in your abdomen as his hands wander again, finally transferring off and away from you.

His proximity feels suffocating, but despite every rational instinct screaming at you to do something—anything—you find yourself frozen. Not just in fear, but in something else. Something other than self-preservation.

He’s terrifying, sure. But there’s something about the way he looks at you, a wild fascination that unsettles you to your very core, yet holds you immovably still. That kind of obsessive attention fixated solely on you, like you’re the only thing that exists in this moment. You’ve never had someone look at you that way before. It was frighteningly addictive.

“Ya feel that, don’t’cha?” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a near whisper, almost conspiratorial. “Yer lil’ heart, pounding away? That’s a once ‘n a lifetime feelin’, treat.”

Yeah, because he fucking kills them right after.

“I could kill ya right now, y’know,” he says it so casually, as though he read your mind. His grip on the knife shifts, and he raises it just enough for you to catch a glimpse of that glinting steel once again. “Wouldn’t even be hard. Like squishin’ a baby bird.”

Your nose scrunches, but you refuse to buckle and give him the reaction he’s clearly fishing for. “Then why don’t you? Hurry up and get it over with, prick.”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t get the chance to, actually. As a scream echoes down the hall, back the way you came. Sounds like somebody found the body. Er- what was left of it, anyhow.

However, your would-be killer doesn’t even deign to spare a glance in that direction. Instead, he grunts, irritated at being interrupted. Eyes drinking you in , as if committing you to memory.

For a split second, you fear that he isn’t going to move. Quickly, knowing time was running out, you open your mouth. Wether it was to shout or maybe offer some snarky quip, you’ll never know.

Because with the strength of a kicking mule, he shoves you, cutting you off before you could make a sound.

A winded ‘oof’ is punched out of your abused lungs, balefully watching as he rises from his haunches and finally tearing those near-black irises away from you.

And just like that, he’s gone. The weight of his presence lifts as he stands to his full height, towering over you for just a moment longer before turning on his heel. His boots thud against the slick floor as he saunters off, leaving you trembling in the silence. Nothing but the sound of voices down the hall, panicked and steadily growing closer. Something about calling the cops.

Your breath comes in short, ragged bursts as you stare after his retreating silhouette, equal parts relief and confusion flooding your senses.

You get the distinct feeling this isn’t over.

Going home is a complicated ordeal. After your manager found you, you’d been a little shell-shocked, to say the least.

And utterly exhausted.

You didn’t really know the haunt-manager that well. It seemed like a different organizer every year, and to be honest, you weren’t all too keen on getting to know them anyway. They seemed nice enough, though.

“—And-! Where’s your car? Don’t tell me you walked here!” She frets, hands coming up to grasp you by the shoulders, before thinking better of it last minute.

“I’m fine.” You grouse, idly thumbing your sternum that still aches. That’s going to be one nasty bruise, you’re sure.

In the distance, you can just make out the red and blue lights strobing down the streets. You really didn’t want to deal with that headache right now. You were never a fan of cops, having your own complicated history with them that you weren’t really interested in reminiscing on.

“Look, Ms-“ you pause, just realizing you’ve forgotten her name already. With an awkward cough, hoping she didn’t catch on, you continue “it’s been a real long and shitty night and I really just want to go home. I’m leaving.” Stiffly, you turn on your heel. Robotically marching down the steps and towards the sidewalk. You weren’t typically a very tactful person on a good day. So if you were a little more terse than you intended, you don’t think you could be held entirely at fault. Tonight had been overwhelming.

“Wait- No, you can’t just walk away! Someone died tonight, there’ll be questions-and-and-“

You pause in your tracks, aggravatingly, she was right. No matter how much you just wanted to go home and forget about tonight, you could potentially get into a heap of trouble for just walking out. Afterall, it’d probably look awfully suspicious of you to try slinking off after a murder.

A murder. It didn’t feel real, hearing that someone really did die tonight, and that it wasn’t some hysteria-induced hallucination.

You should’ve been dead too.

You clear your throat, uncomfortable. Deciding to save yourself the future migraine, you fish out your trusty bottle of Tylenol. Swallowing two pills dry.

The haunt-organizer looks a little on edge, despite her insistence that you came back. Dragging your feet back up the steps, you notice her slightly backpedal from your immediate vicinity. You suppose you can’t really blame her. What with you still dressed in uniform, ratty hair, and features smeared with patchy face-paint. You must look pretty ratchet right now.

With a long, suffering sigh, you fall back onto your rump. Leg bouncing anxiously.

Well, it’s not like tonight could get any worse.

Hope ya’ll enjoyed. I got bit by the Bob-Velseb-Bug after playing Tender Lovin’ Cannibal. So this was born :,)

Also-Also, I will not be posting future chapters to this Tumblr, so if you’d like to read more please consider checking out my Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/60694933

[deadgirlsnoring]

NOT WHAT YOU THINK I AM —DR. SPENCER REID

Summary; The team is lead to believe that Spencer is the one in charge, and you don’t deny it. That is, until you’re both alone.

Contents; handjob (male receiving), dacryphilia, blackfem reader, sub!spencer, dom!reader, not much use of Y/n, workplace sex, cum eating, overstimulation.

“She always follows around you like some lost puppy, damn Y/n.” Morgan snickered, you knew he was just teasing, he knew better than to be serious.

You didn’t even realize,

Spencer would always help you with stuff. Your work, when sauce would make its way outside your mouth, even fix your hair for you.

You didn’t realize how under his control you looked, never crossed your mind. Both Spencer and you knew who was in charge, and he didn’t stray far from that in the bedroom.

You looked at him like he was God, but you never noticed. You’ve always stared at him like that.

So when Spence started acting more dominant in the workplace it didn’t bother you not one bit, even the teasing from Morgan.

It was pretty normal, normal things he’d do in public also.

He would lead you places, sometimes have the last say. Feed you, pull you onto his lap.

Only when Hotch wasn’t looking.

When rumours popped up saying Spencer was in charge of you, telling you what to do, how to act. Even going so far as to saying what he told you to do you did, no questions asked.

It was somewhat true, but it was only because you loved him. Of course you would do what he said, and so would he to you.

The shock you went through when you found out your sweet Spencer was the one spreading those terrible rumours.

When girls came up to you it started to become a problem. Telling you how lucky you were that Spencer was yours, how good he must be in bed.

He wouldn’t even lay a hand on you with your permission. It only made your anger grow when Morgan and Garcia joined in with the teasing.

You stared at him from your desk, watching him scribble down words you didn’t care about. Your blood was boiling, you were so mad inside but you looked so sweet on the outside.

Your pouty lips, skin glistening. It was truly a sight to see.

Spencer knew you were looking at him, he could feel your stare. That same stare that made him shiver.

You never acted dominant at work. You were soft and caring, never even rolled your eyes. It wasn’t like you weren’t soft and caring at home, but you never let bedroom you and work you mix.

Your Christian Louboutins clicked on the ground as you jumped off your desk, making your way towards your baby.

A black skirt molded around your body, a black blouse holding up your pretty titties to match with two buttons undone.

Once you got to his desk you could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

Boohoo.

Lowering yourself down towards his ear, “Spence?” You whispered, a smirk falling onto your face.

He nodded, wrong answer.

“You know I like words. You don’t wanna disappoint me, right pumpkin?” His head falling into his hands made you giggle.

His heart was racing, just like how it did every time you guys went home.

Holding your warm, soft hand out towards him you smiled softly, “C‘ mon baby, gotta talk to you.”

The man gulped, looking up at you with his big puppy dog eyes. You knew he was trying to apologize, knowing exactly what he did wrong.

Emily was watching, and noticed Spencer’s sudden change. She knew something was up.

Shaking your head you kept your hand out, your eyes glaring at him, “Don’t keep me waiting Spencer. Let’s go.”

He listened, he always did. So when he grabbed your hand his stomach caved in when you tightly squeezed it, making him follow you where ever you were taking him.

When you guys were out of view from the team he started speaking quietly, like someone was gonna somehow hear him.

“Is something wrong Y/n? You can talk to me.”

Rolling your eyes, you peeked into a room that wasn’t occupied, it was dark, with the window slightly open showing a hint of light.

This was it.

Pulling him into the room, you shut it and made sure not to lock it.

“Sit.” He looked at the chair than back at you, confused.

He was right to be confused, he knew you didn’t mix home with work.

Putting a hand on your hip you kissed your teeth, “Do I have to say daddy for you to listen?” Stepping closer to him you internally grinned when he took a step back.

He was trying to hold in his whines, clearly wasn’t doing good enough because you heard him.

“Please daddy? Sit down?” You laughed, running your hands through your long, soft hair.

“Stop.” He mumbled. Frowning, you tugged on his tie, “Hm? I can’t hear you. Daddy can you speak up?”

He was psychically in pain, he knew he shouldn’t have spread those things. It was a matter of time before you found out.

“Is that how you want me to act Spence? The way I am right now isn’t good for you?” His eyes widened and he shook his head quickly.

“No! N-no. I like the way you act. I love it, please? M’sorry.”

You tsked, pouting. Pushing him down into the chair you thought about what to do with him.

“Are you satisfied? I can go now?” You shook your head smiling brightly.

“Take off your clothes Spencer.” He raised his brows, heat raising to his cheeks.

“Hu—Did I stutter? Clothes off, now. Keep the tie, hurry don’t make me bored.”

He shot up, pulling off his sweater before unbuttoning his shirt. He kept looking at you, a whine escaping his lips when he saw how annoyed you looked of him.

Made him so sad, now he just wanted to please you. Whatever you wanted him to do he’d do it.

No questions asked.

When he unbuttoned his pants and let them flood around his feet the man looked up at you for approval, you didn’t give it.

So he slid off his boxers, his hard on slapping against his pale stomach.

“Hmph, alright.” You looked uninterested, something he hated so bad.

“Please, I’m sorry,” You motioned for him to sit down, and he did, “Don’t matter now, want you want me to do now daddy?”

“No, please no,” Tilting your head you bit down on your plump, juicy lips, “What? You want me to sit down instead? Have you hurt me?”

Spence sniffled, he could feel the tears coming, “I want you to touch me, you can hurt me a-all you want. I’m yours.”

“Seemed like the other way around.”

Your hands crept down to his cock, squeezing the base. A yelp left his lips and you quickly covered it with your hand.

Something about him being completely naked and you all the way dressed made him twitch. Anything you did could make him cum, that’s one of the reasons you had to do multiple rounds with him.

Taking his pre cum and spreading it all over his member, you began making your pace. Starting soft from the base, you squeezed and turned once you got to the tip, his breath shaky and his hips stuttering.

“Shh, you want the whole team in here pumpkin? Have them see you looking like a slut, after you ran your mouth?” His big eyes locked with yours, you could see them fill with his salty tears.

When he blinked, you felt the wetness on your hand.

“Crying isn’t getting you out of this. All because you just had to be dumb, why Spence? I hate treating you bad, but you’re always in need of a punishment.”

Your hand fell from his mouth to his neck, gripping it tightly while pressing hard kisses and bites to his neck. He was so pale they were gonna be marks very soon, and he knew you didn’t care.

“I should find another boy, somebody who won’t be so bad. You think so?”

You were gonna do what you wanted, when you wanted.

“Hah.. fuck. No please, m’sorry, y-you know I’m sorry. I can.. can prove it to you. J..just let me.”

“Boohoo, if you don’t cum right now I’m gonna leave you here and take your clothes. You want that baby? Have them see how weird and sick you are?” You went faster, smirking when his chest fell closer to you, his forehead sweating.

You pulled him to your face by his tie, his tongue was at the side of his mouth, licking his dry lips. “Dr Spencer Reid the genius is a freaky pervert who likes to jerk off in the office.”

He couldn’t help but cry, you were always serious. You would ruin his career, and you both knew it.

All he could was apologize, mumbling incoherent apologizes while trying to keep his eyes open.

“Whose in charge?” Your hand wasn’t slowing down and he could feel the knot form, he needed to let go.

“Y-You.. fuck it’s you, pleaseee.” His voice was raspy and he knew he was about to come, you did too. That’s why you only started to focus on the tip.

He tried kissing you to mask his moans but you rolled your eyes, moving your face away from him. Spence had no other choice but to bite down on his bottom lip to hide it, it hurt so bad but he couldn’t make a sound.

His stomach clenched before he hurled towards you, breathing heavy through his nose trying to contain himself. You smiled to yourself, watching it flow out.

“Mhm, so much cum baby. Making me so proud. You know what?”

Stopping for a second, you let him look up at you, asking you to go on.

“I think.. you can do another one.” You scoffed when you heard him whimper. He couldn’t take it.

“Can.. can I just, just prove it to you. Let me touch you, can make you feel s’good. You know I can.”

While looking at him in disgust, you started your movements again. This time when he bit down on his lip, he drew blood.

It only excited you.

“What makes you think I even want you touch me? Don’t make me mad. Sluts don’t touch, you got it?”

“I-I, I’m gonna cum.” He didn’t respond to your statement but you didn’t care, your eyes watching the blood dripping his bottom lip.

“So soon? I think you can hold it pumpkin. Or else we’re just gonna have to another round?”

He nodded slowly, his head turning into the mush, “Aww, is the genius just a little whore now? Can’t speak, can’t even keep his pretty little eyes open.”

Trying his best to keep his eyes open, he looked up at you. Dried tears along with the new ones, bloody pink lips, hot red cheeks.

He looked to die. So cute, your dumb little slut.

“I can cum? Oh please let me cum.” You thought about it for a second, speeding up your movements while doing so. He choked on a moan, rolling his eyes back as your hand only focused on his burning hot tip.

“P-pleasee.. I’m so—fuck! Momma please, fuck please. I cant.. You know I-I can’t take it.”

“Please, yes you can. Don’t tell me what I know. I’ll count to 10, then you can cum, mkay?”

He desperately shook his head, he wasn’t gonna last. His legs were shaking, and he couldn’t keep his eyes from rolling back.

“One.” You twisted and turned, the gross sound of you twisting and his gasps the only thing you could hear in the room.

“Six.” He was so close, so close he could feel it.

The man was looking at you the entire time, he wouldn’t take it eyes off you even if he couldn’t keep them open.

“Nine.” He was waiting for you to say ten but you wouldn’t. Spence couldn’t help but beg, but still you didn’t open your mouth.

It truly was funny to you, you liked the way he looked a mess. “Ten.” You mumbled annoyingly.

You didn’t want it to end, who would? “H-holy… mmfuck!” You covered his mouth once again as he let loose, he shot so much out it surprised you.

He shuddered every time you rubbed him up and down. His eyes were bloodshot red, hair all messed up and the tears looking so pretty, stained on his face.

You took his cum into your hand, coating them on your fingers you pushed them into his mouth. You had a strong grip on his hair, your manicured nails scratching scalp.

It made you giggle when his eyes shot open, he still was a good boy, making sure to clean your fingers dry.

“Good boy.” He had a dopey grin on his face, looking up at you in awe. You repeated his action, til he was all clean.

Pressing a deep kiss onto his lips it took him back, he couldn’t catch up. He was so tired, the man wouldn’t last at work.

You tasted the blood on your lips, making him wince while you moaned into the kiss. Still having a strong grip on him you tugged his head back so you could make dark marks on his neck and chest.

He couldn’t fight, he was too into it.

You stepped back, looking at what you did. “Hmph, what am I gonna do with you.”

By the time you got him all dressed again, and looking somewhat presentable the work day was basically over.

The clicking of your heels made the team turn towards you with their brows raised.

“Spence isn’t feeling so well, he’s all hot and not doing so good. I’m gonna take him home, bye guys!”

Morgan and Rossi eyed each other, then turned towards Spencer.

They couldn’t tell what he looked like, but JJ and Emily were smiling to each other in the back.

“Be good!” Emily called out, shrugging when Morgan looked at her strangely.

Xoxo, liah

[here4kpopfics]

Put It Out | JJK

just a quick little something to put our minds at ease about that stupid candle. @minttangerines asked and I...I don't know, honestly. Here we are. I'm tired. Enjoy. Thank you beautiful @mikrokcsmos for the edits and being wonderful. 💜💜 also gonna tag @pamzn @minisugakoobies and @sugakookitty bc i can. hi i love you all.

Masterlist | AskBox | Taglist | Coffee? | Patreon

jjk x reader | fluff/stupiness | 1863 words | pg15 but really 13 but really who cares | Jungkook better put that shit out before his house goes down in flames.

“I’m gonna go live, jagi.”

“It’s two in the morning, Koo. Let army sleep.” You turn over in bed to see your boyfriend throwing a shirt on and fixing his hair in the bathroom mirror before turning back to you with a pout. 

The dumb pout that wins every argument. You hate it and love it. 

“I’m sure some of them are awake! I’ll make it a chill live. Put the galaxy light on and get a candle. They can fall asleep to it.” 

“Like any of them can fall asleep to you singing to them.” You mumble under your breath, getting up and grabbing your phone and a charger. “Let me grab something to drink and a snack first.”

“You’re gonna watch?” Dumb bunny smiles with the cute crinkles around his eyes. You want to kiss him stupid but you’re too tired. 

“Someone has to make sure you don’t do anything dumb.” You quip, quickly pecking his lips with yours as you make your way to the kitchen, grabbing supplies. You hear his feet following you and smile. 

“I don’t do anything stupid!”

“Unholy. Body roll. While not stupid, I'm pretty sure a good handful of people had heart attacks that night.” You grab your laptop off the dining room table, “Boxing. Moaning and groaning while on the floor and out of sight. Stupid only because you were out of sight and that led people to have ideas about things that only I get to experience.” 

“I wasn’t—”

“Yes you were. But it’s fine. I accept that you’re a flirty hoe, it’s who you are baby. Embrace it. Have fun. I’ll be in the room waiting for you to come back to bed.” You take a quick inventory of the room, making sure he moved anything of yours out of view when you spot the candle.

“Why the candle, though?” 

“To lighten it up in here…and it smells nice.”

“Baby, you have a ring light.” 

“Ring light doesn’t smell nice.”

You groan in defeat, shaking your head and walking past him, back to the room, “blow it out when you’re done!”

“Kay!” 

You settle back in bed, charger plugged in and a pillow acting as a laptop stand while you snack on whatever it was you blindly grabbed. You hear the music starting before you get the notification about him going live on Weverse pops up. You pop in your AirPods and get ready for a long night. 

You scroll through tumblr and Twitter as he finally appears on the screen, quietly giggling at everyone freaking out over specific songs and him and his hair. You can’t blame them, though. His hair still makes you giddy when you see it. 

A few songs in and you realize quickly what playlist he’s going through. The playlist you created together, tossing random shit that either reminded you of one another, was just a fucking vibe, or was just something you personally wanted him to sing because you knew he could. 

One of the very few perks of dating him that you participate in. 

But he’s doing that thing, that thing you hate. You do it, too. You’re not afraid to admit it. But it’s worse when he does it because he’s singing at the same time. 

He gets a little more than half way through a song, either reaching the second chorus or even the bridge, and then just skips to the next song. But not just the song right after, no. The man skips and skips and skips and skips, letting you hear a second of each song and getting excited before he skips to another one, repeating the process. It drives you mad.

Thankfully, it drives army mad as well, so at least you have that to validate your annoyance. 

You accidentally laugh out loud when he starts singing along with Leave The Door Open and you pray no one had heard it, watching the chat to see if anyone says anything. Thankfully, no one heard a thing and you relax, but only a little because he’s got the damn candle in his hand and he’s moving the melted wax around and you have to bite your tongue to suppress yourself from laughing again when the flame goes out. 

“Serves you right.” You mutter. 

He continues on with this “chill night” of blasting his music, getting more drinks, watching Hoseok’s new music video twice without saying a word, accidentally swearing while singing a Charlie Puth song, and unabashedly flirting with army again. 

You watch his mood start to dip when he gets to some slower songs, one that you put in when you were feeling insecure about your relationship with him. 

He looks exhausted as he talks about the current situation he’d been forced into with ‘fans’ not respecting his privacy and treating him like he’s not human and your heart cracks for him. Part of you wants to run out there, turn off the live and hug him. The other part knows he needs to get it off his chest. Even if he’s tipsy, it’s something that needs to be discussed. You can comfort him after. 

But of course, never one to let the mood be sad for too long, he switches to a fun more upbeat song and says he needs to go to the bathroom.

A few seconds later, he’s opening the door to your bedroom and leaning over your little set up and grabbing your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. 

“I love you” the words fall off his lips quietly and you repeat them back without hesitation, smiling when he gives a shorter kiss before bolting to the bathroom. He comes back out, stealing some of your snacks and snickering at your reaction, throwing up a finger heart as he leaves the room. 

He seems to have woken up a little bit, but not by much from the way he keeps laying back on the couch for a minute or two at a time. 

“I swear if you fall asleep on camera…” you whisper at the screen, glaring at the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

“I'm not going to sleep.” He groans, trying to wake himself up, “if I’m gonna sleep, I’ll tell you and get off but I don’t feel like sleeping right now, okay?” He’s whining which you know perfectly well he’s about to fall asleep. He turns into a toddler, confused and upset that his body would betray him like this. 

Not even five minutes later he’s picking up the candle again, placing it in front of the camera for aesthetic reasons, you’re sure. 

“I’m gonna rest a bit. Just a few minutes. Promise.” He disappears out of sight and you’re sure he’s laying down. 

Aw, fuck. He’s gonna sleep on camera.

You wait five minutes and then you hear it, clear as day in your AirPods, the sound of his snoring. It’s so light, but so very obvious your boyfriend has fallen asleep on camera and millions of people are now watching him. Although, not really watching him, because he’s off camera. But it’s close enough! 

You quickly send a text to Taehyung, praying he’s still awake. 

Y/n: Koo fell asleep on camera. What do I do?

Tae: you have to end it or I’ll see if any of the team can…did he really fall asleep? 

Y/n: yes! And he has a stupid candle burning still right next to his phone. I can’t go out there until it’s over. 

Tae: oh my god he’s going to get so much shit for this from us, that’s amazing. 

Tae: I’ll call and see if anyone can turn it off, but I doubt it since it’s four in the morning. Try to do it in the meantime. 

You groan, tossing your phone to the side and looking back at your laptop. He’s still asleep. And that candle is still burning. The chat is yelling about it, tumblr and Twitter are both freaking out about it. 

Fuck. You’re gonna have to do something about it. You take out the AirPods, getting back out of bed and throwing one of his sweaters on as well as his sweatpants. 

You quietly and slowly open the door, thankful the door can’t be seen from that angle on the stream, and slowly drop to the floor. 

Time to mission impossible this shit. 

Using the sweater and pants, you’re able to softly glide on the floor that you’re very thankful was cleaned earlier today and Bam wasn’t here to ruin. You make your way behind the couch until you’re on the opposite side of his phone. He’s just off to the side, very clearly out of sight and you sneak up on the floor next to the couch, keeping yourself hidden. 

“Baby?” You whisper it as quietly as you possibly can manage, but he doesn’t respond except with a soft whimper of a snore. He’s too adorable.

The sound of the tv going into sleep mode makes you jump. 

You can’t wake him up without either making noise or him saying your name when he wakes. So you sneak away from him again, creeping directly behind his phone and reaching around, trying to keep your finger out of sight as you tap where you're sure the end live button is located. You stay sitting behind the camera, grabbing your phone and checking if the live is off, and thank god it is. 

You stand up, blowing out the candle and taking it to the kitchen to set it somewhere safe. You turn off the galaxy light and make your way back to your tired and dumb boyfriend, crawling on top of him. 

“Jungkoooookie. Baby. Wake up, dumb dumb.” 

He groans in annoyance, and as suspected, the first thing he says is your name.  

“Y/n? I’m live right now. You can’t be out here.” He whines, but his hands find their home on your thighs, squeezing softly. 

“I ended it, you goober. You fell asleep on camera. Snoring and everything.” You grin, cradling his face in one hand and kissing his nose. “Come on, let’s get you to a real bed.” 

“Here’s good.” He says, pulling you down to him and flipping you both on your sides. 

“Nuh-uh. To the bed, mister. You’ll thank me in the morning.” You reach out, patting his butt and laughing when he bucks his hips once towards yours. “Not that either. Let’s go.” 

You climb out of his grip, pulling him off the couch and grabbing his phone, leading him to the bedroom. You quickly remove your stuff and he quite literally flips over onto the bed while you plug his phone into your charger. 

You have to maneuver him to get under the blankets, doing so yourself when he’s finally in bed, getting comfortable when a giant tattooed arm reaches around your waist, dragging you to have your back against his chest.

“Goodnight, jagi.” A small kiss on your temple. 

“Goodnight, dumb boy.” Your free hand wraps around the hand on your waist and you both fall asleep. 

He’s gonna be in so much trouble when he wakes up.

Booga Booga I'm tired

[montimer]

Joker x reader

Reader works at a store

gn!reader, could be any joker ig

Summary: the store is getting robbed by the joker but as tired as you are, you just give the money to him. (Based on the ep 'jokers millions' cuz he needs cash)

____________________________

It was pretty late. A few customers were walking around the store. You just quietly stood behind the register, waiting for your shift to end.

And that is when you heard a gunshot, then glass breaking. Two tall man entered the store, they had clown make up on and wore black clothing.

They didn't move, not until another men came in. He was in purple, wearing a hat, making half of his face covered in a shadow. "Alright boys, lets make this quick" he snapped his fingers ordering them.

He then looked around and his eyes landed on you. Or atleast that two dots that were seeable.

You felt so tired, stressed and exhausted, you just waited for something to happen.

He made his way towards you in fast steps. Only when he got closer did you realize that the man infront of you was no other than The Joker himself.

You noticed his flower and that smile you recognize on posters.

He raised his gun at you demanding money. You just nodded at him as you opened the register. "Okay okay, lower that thing man"

You handed him the cash that was in there, about...50 bucks. He almost looked surprised. Maybe cuz you actually listened with out crying for your life. Or maybe cuz you seemed unimpressed? Well it is gotham after all.

Not that you weren't afraid at the moment.

"Ah..good choice. You're a smart one"

He put his gun and the money in his pocket. He looked back up at you.

"Happen to know the code for the safe?"

You giggled at him. He made a surprised face once again, you had to hold back from laughing.

"Ya really think this poor store has a safe? Only the boss has more money on him. And he went home like two hours ago. Sorry"

"Huh, he left?!"

"Yeah..he always does that. He leaves the store for us to close. About that..my shift ends in 20 minutes and i don't wanna deal with that" you point at the broken windows.

He looks back at you.

"Aren't you afraid?"

"Well its not my fault that its broken-"

"No, i mean. Aren't you afraid of me? I mean do you even know who ya talking to?"

"The charming prince of crime. The Joker, yeah yeah i know.. i heard about you"

The word charming made him smile.

"You know what sweets, i like ya! You aren't like the others. Oh and by the way. The gun wasn't loaded"

You blink in surprise and he just laughed.

"Low on bullets that is.. but you're very cooperative. I like that." He put his hands up picturing you.

"Well gotta fly before batboy and birdie comes looking for me. Wish i could steal more of your time."

You look at your clock. Your shift has ended. Plus you survived an encounter with a villain. But at what cost.

"Heres my card. Er, and your name sweet?"

"..Y/n..Y/n L/n.."

"I'll keep that in my memory"

He petted your head, he then waved and whistled for his hench men. They left the store running as you tried to keep yourself together.

'Maybe i should have gave him a fake name, would he have been mad then?' You took a look at the card he gave you. It was a normal poker card. A joker card.

'Mmm. Im just gonna go home and deal with this later'

Little did you know you just made this crazy clown interested in you.

[ruthserbel]

Hello all! Another drabble post - because I saw this post, and I couldn't help but think about writing this, so please enjoy! This one is SFW! However, if you want to read the NSFW version (which changes the actual written part, you can find that one here [x]! I placed most of this post under a read more so I'm not clogging up the tags with this~

〚 𝓇𝓊𝓉𝒽 𝓁𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝒶𝓅 〛

» we've already established (in this (sfw [x]/nsfw [x]) post) Ruth is super cuddly with you when you two are alone.

» sometimes he will pull you in so you're sitting in his lap while you reading, other times he will wrap his arms around you while sitting behind you (making it impossible for you to continue with what you were doing beforehand - although you don't fully mind this)

» although sometimes - not often though - he will lay his head in your lap while you're seated on the bed, reading a book, or something else

▸ you can't even be mad at him when he does this though - how could you be mad when he does this? ▸ he tends to do this when the two of you haven't seen each other for a bit because he's been busy with other things

» you set aside whatever you were doing before you run your fingers through his hair

▸ he has never said it, although you can tell - he loves it when you play with his hair ▸ he will close his eyes as you continue to brush your fingers through his hair

» after a while of that, you'll lean down to gently kiss his forehead, thinking that he's fallen asleep

▸ you realize that he wasn't asleep when he pulls you lower, kissing you instead

pretext to this (because it matters for me so I could write this and have it make sense): you're sitting cross legged on the bed, leaning your back against a wall/headboard type thing (whatever you want it to be/call it - up to you as it's not specific), reading a book quietly in Ruth's tower

song: dream a little dream of me [this version] if you don't understand why after reading this, maybe i'm just crazy, but i feel as if this kinda fits?

word count: 865 (short and sweet c:)

「 night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you" 」

Flipping the page in your book that you were reading, you hear the door to opening.

"Hello," you say, lifting your head to greet Ruth - who looked very tired. You hadn't seen him all day, although that was becoming the normal right now. Riftan had been keeping him busy throughout the day. So the two of you were not able to see each other until the end of the day - if you hadn't fallen asleep already.

He gave a weak wave as he walked into the room, before dropping himself on the bed. You let out a small giggle has he laid his head down on your lap. It wasn't often that he would do this, but when he did you couldn't help but let out a laugh. You looked down at the silver haired man as he let out a sigh, ignoring your giggles at him.

"I know, I know," you whisper as you close your book, setting it down on the bed. Looking back to the man in front of you, you place your hand gently on his head. You interlaced your fingers within his hair, playing with his hair as you whispered. "I missed you too."

The two of you sat in silence for a while while you continue to run your fingers through his hair. He had closed his eyes as he relaxed, a slight smile growing on his face as you kept playing with his hair. He had never mentioned liking his hair being played with, although you could tell he did like it.

Anytime you had done this for him, he would fall asleep. Giving that, it led you to assume that after a few minutes of playing with his hair that he had fallen asleep. Gently, you push aside the hair that was laying on his forehead before you lifted your hand from his head.

"I love you," you whispered before leaning down to kiss his forehead. As your lips brushed against his forehead, you heard Ruth whispered back. His voice was barely audible, despite how close you were to him.

"I love you too," Ruth whispered, which caused you to jump a little.

You let out a soft giggle as you started to lean back, although you were stopped by Ruth's hand. He held your face a few inches from his face. His eyebrows raised as you looked at him, your face starting to blush.

"I... I thought you were asleep," you whisper, stammering over your words, causing you to blush more.

"I wasn't," Ruth replied in a whispered voice before he moved his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to sit up. Relieved, you sat back again, as he sat up himself. "Just because I wasn't means you're going to stop though?" He questioned, now sitting in front of you on the bed.

"Stop what?" you question.

Ruth let out a slight chuckle at your question before he leaned closer to you, placing his hand behind your head. "You're adorable," he whispered as he brought you forward into a gentle kiss. The kiss started out soft and delicate. You leaned more into the kiss, only parting to catch your breath.

Letting out a giggle, you break the kiss, leaning your head against Ruth's. "Ruth," you mutter breathlessly.

"Mmm," Ruth hums before kissing you again.

"You need sleep," you mumble against his lips after a moment before breaking the kiss again. You statement caused Ruth to let out a sigh. Ignoring his sigh, you rested your forehead against his again. "You know you do, so don't fight me on this," you whisper, trying to get him to listen to you. All of the features of his face were showing his exhaustion.

With a groan, Ruth agreed. "Fine," he said before he moved on the bed so he could lay down, resting his head on a pillow at the top of the bed.

"Thank you," you say with a small smile. Reaching out to grab the book, you moved to get out of the bed. Although you're stopped as you feel Ruth's hands reach around you. Before you could question what Ruth was doing, he pulled you back - pulling you against him.

Falling back on the bed, you let out a light giggle before you look up to him. You didn't need to question him - you knew what he wanted. He didn't want you to leave right now.

"You know," you whisper, before you squirm, trying to get Ruth to release you, which he did. As his arms released his grip on you, you reached to set the book down on the floor. "You could just ask me to stay," you say as you turn back, laying down on the bed beside Ruth, facing him.

"Please sta-" Ruth started, although he was cut off by you. You gently pressed your lips against his, kissing him for a moment. The kiss didn't linger for long, as you broke the kiss moving to cuddle your head against his chest.

"I won't leave," you whisper as you close your eyes. Although you weren't tired, you felt as if you could always fall asleep like this.

taglist: @kunikida-simp, @tylerhasmyheart

[writerofadream]

Fairytale Ending? ⛓

TDI!Duncan x Juvie Bestfriend! Reader ⛓

Chapter Two: Trent's jealous of his girlfriend's crush.

You stared at the food on your plate. Slowly you pushed it in front of you. Dunan gave you a disapproving glare. “Eat.” He ordered pushing the plate right back at you. “I’m not hungry,” You grumbled. “You are eating for two, honey, eat.” Leshawna sat down next to you.

A faint blush appeared on your cheeks causing Duncan to sport a goofy grin.

“Fine.” You whispered and slowly began putting the food into your mouth. “Good girl.” Duncan whispered in your ear causing you to turn about fifty shades of red. “Get a room, ya nasties.” Leshawna rolled her eyes.

Chris walked in. “Welcome to day two of Total, Drama, Action.” He yelled dramatically. 

It had been a few months since you had been on Total Drama Island, and looking at the man still made you feel nauseous. Duncan squeezed your thigh, and sighed.

“You gonna do that everytime, asshole?” He questioned. “Yep.” Chris smiled wide, and annoyingly. “Alright then.” Duncan rolled his eyes causing a small giggle to leave your mouth.

“Today’s movie genre… aliens!”

Chris smirked once he saw your eyes light up. “Our unpaid interns-” You felt Duncan tense, next to you and you put your head on his shoulder, trying to convey comfort. Slowly he relaxed. “You got three basic rules-” Chef began his ramble.

“Today’s challenge- find an alien egg.” Chris held up a map.

“Sorry losers, ain’t no one knows alien movies more than I do.” Duncan crossed his arms looking at the people around him. Gwen rolled her eyes and pointed at you, who was now looking at him with a look of utter disbelief.

“Wanna bet, tiger?” You smirked.

“Off with the head, off with them all.” He recited, clearly challenging you. “Deck of Aliens, we watched it three years ago.” You responded. “See to it that we kill all the humans.” You recited raising an eyebrow. “Last two alive, we saw it when we were eight.” Duncan scoffed.

“What if the aliens kill us, what if they try to mate with us- UGH.” Duncan said quickly. “Honey, I brought the kids to the Apocalypse. You made me watch that after the OBGYN said she had never seen it.” You cross your arms.

“We’re gonna crush those aliens, and have them for breakfast.” You smirk as a look of realization dawns on his face, he didn’t remember the name. “Alien Chunks!” Gwen yelled out. “I love that movie.” She laughs.

“I’ve seen it twenty seven times.” she explains. Duncan has to scoff at that. “I saw fifty-seven.” He says, and you laugh. “A hundred and thirty four times.” you smile as you watch Gwen’s face drop.

“You’ll both be tough to beat. But I’ll still beat your asses.”

“You sound like my father.” Duncan laughed as he watched you spit out your drink, and turn to look at him, exasperated.

—-

You watched, sadly as Duncan cartwheeled into your arms. You gave him a hug. “I can’t wait till she comes out so we can teach her gymnastics. Oh, I’m so excited she’ll look like you but be troubled like me-” a soft smile appeared on your face as you watched your husband excitedly rant, albeit quietly.

Movement was something you valued. You adored gliding on the trapeze, walking on your hands, and doing a variety of stunts. But now that you are pregnant, every movement hurts. Walking made your hips sore, laying down made your neck hurt, sitting made your legs hurt.

Luckily for you, you had a husband that liked nothing more than to touch his wife.

Currently, you were walking through a big metal building that you were confident was filled with gasses that were not safe for the child inside you.

Duncan had grabbed you and strung you over his back like a backpack. Not that you were complaining, your feet HURT.

There was this weird slurping sound that was driving you to the brink of madness though. You looked up expecting to see Beth smacking some sort of food in her brace-filled mouth. “Shh.” Gwen grumbled clearly annoyed. Owen promptly farted.

“If my baby dies of gas inhalation I swear I will beat your ass.” You hissed at Owen who blushed. “If the baby dies because of one of them can I kill them?” Izzy asked with a large smile. “Yes.” Duncan answered for you.

The slurping continued and you mimed putting a gun to your head.

“What is that?” Trent finally grumbled. You all looked at Beth who turned red and apologized. “Ever since I got my braces off  I don’t make that sound anymore.” She explained trying to justify herself. “I hear that sound anytime she talks.” Duncan muttered under his breath causing you to softly giggle.

“It must be, Chef.” You whispered as the idea popped into your mind. 

“So you want to run, or kick some alien ass?” Duncan asked as he tilted his face, exposing his neck which you promptly lined with kisses. “Kick ass.” You murmured and high-fived with Gwen who was staring at you with heart eyes. “..AHEM-” Trent coughed into his palm causing Gwen to whir around.

“I mean, Trent, do you have any ideas?”

“Let’s kick some alien butt!” Trent quickly recovered. “After you.” Gwen pointed at the wall in front of the group. “I’m pregnant, I have a reason to not want to die, also I’m pretty sure Duncan will kill me if I die, so after you sweetheart.” You pinched Trent’s cheek as you tried to hop off Duncan’s back, but he quickly made you jump back on.

Beth quickly stalked up. “I did not go through eight years of braces-” her rant was cut off as she found out what the noise was. You all waited anticipating her response.

“... it’s just Bridgette and Geoff.” she grumbled and you all looked over the wall to see the two blondes making out. “Do you ever get tired of sucking his face?” You asked Bridgette who promptly flipped you off. 

“Cute.” You smiled cheekily walking past her.

Duncan quickly caught up, and threw you over his shoulder with ease. You sighed propping yourself up on your back as Leshawna waved, laughing at you. 

“That boy ain’t gonna let you do nothing while you're pregnant.” She pointed out. You rolled your eyes, turning red. Suddenly the GPS that Chris gave you all began beeping, signaling that Chef was close. “Danger.” Yours said. “Danger.” 

Danger

Danger

Danger

Danger

You walked into your home, your stomach making a small growl. You felt embarrassed, your kitchen was bare of any food. You checked anyways, you opened up the fridge and were unsurprised at the lack of anything in there.

You made a mental note to steal an apple from Duncan’s house sooner rather than later.

You closed the fridge door and saw your father waiting there with a wild smile on his face. You were surprised for two reasons.

Your father was there, and clearly trying to talk to you

Your father was smiling

He scooped you up in a hug and you felt your stomach clench. “Oh I love my wonderful daughter.” He reeked of alcohol. Suddenly one of his hands clasped the back of your neck, sending an adrenaline filled tingle down your spine.

That was the place they tasered you at military camp.

Never again, Duncan had told you, he’d never let it happen again.

Your instincts went into overdrive, and you grabbed his hand, specifically his pointer-finger and twisted it backwards, making him drop you. Then you pinned him to the wall. Your mind was screaming danger, over and over. 

You didn’t see your father, you saw General Eyses, you saw Leo, you saw all of your tormentors.

Duncan felt you tense, and had gently set you down in seconds flat, and wrapped his arm around you to keep you from lashing out. “Onward.” He grunted as he felt you struggle against his strength. Gwen shrugged before following him.

“Stay back here love-birds.” You yelled at Geoff and Bridgette.

It was an exhausting day. Simply because it was extremely boring. You couldn’t find the nest of alien eggs and you felt tiredness coming upon you. Duncan watched you warily as you took a misstep and fell straight-

Into his arms.

Your eyes were flickering open and closed. Duncan sighed, clearly very worried and pulled you into his arms, carrying you bridal style. “Is she doing alright?” Gwen questioned. “She’s always been exhausted. But when you're pregnant and anorexic, that doesn’t help.” He explained quietly.

“Oh.” Trent muttered.

Finally you all had made it to the boiler room, and saw the vomit-colored eggs beneath you. “Woah, they look so real.” Trent said aloud. “Woo hoo! We won.” DJ yelled quickly waking you up. You gave Duncan a look “Why didn’t you wake me up.” you grumbled forcing him to let go of you. 

“Because I like holding you.” He muttered causing a light blush to come on your cheeks.

“We still have to get the eggs back to home base.” Duncan explained to your team. As the room emitted some steam causing goosebumps to appear on your biceps and along your forearms.

Suddenly a beep was heard from Gwen’s GPS signaling that Chef was tracking them.

You grumbled staring at the ceiling for a moment. “If I go into early labor because of this I will sew your **** to your head and call you a limp **** for the rest of your ******* life.” You yelled at the camera.

Your fellow teammates looked at you mildly concerned.

Then you promptly flipped down into where the eggs were, landing with ease that no one else could’ve accomplished. You quickly began throwing eggs up to your friends and Duncan helped pull you back up. 

Chef appeared from a doorway and shot DJ in mere seconds.

Duncan had to drag a waving you away from him. “Bye Chef!” You yelled as you were dragged outside. But you saw Chris in a helicopter above you.

“The military has come to your rescue m’lady. Sadly I can’t let you leave with the alien eggs. I’d think about changing my mind for a kiss.” 

Duncan growled before he laughed as he watched you flip the helicopter off. “Kiss my ass.” You yelled up towards him.

“That can be arranged.” The maniac smiled before dropping a bomb on you. “DUCK.” Duncan yelled as he covered your body with his, just as the bomb exploded with green goo. 

—

“Does this mean we’re out?” You heaved, standing back up. “I think so, princess.” Duncan sighed, putting an arm around your shoulder. “I’m disappointed. I wanted a million.” You sighed, putting a head on his shoulder.

“I think we’ll be fine without it. We’re only here because Chris said he’d report that we’d violated our parole, remember?” Duncan pointed out, causing you to grumble. “Trust me. I remember.”

Then you began the trek back to ‘home base’, following Chris. Duncan was holding you close, and every few minutes put kisses on your head as if he was trying to assure himself you were still there. As you reached home base, you sat on the bleachers as Chef walked out holding the gilded Chris’s.

“Don’t we have forty of those at home?” Duncan pointed out. You sighed, and nodded. Leshawna gave you a strange glance. “He sends me one, twice a month.” You explained. “You should get a restraining order.” Leshawna advised.

Duncan gave her a confused look. “What’s a restraining order?”  You both said in unison. 

Leshawna blinked a few times, clearly very concerned. Chris threw you a gilded Chris, then he threw Duncan one. “Do you know what a restraining order is?” You asked Beth who sat next to you. “It’s when a person you don’t like isn’t allowed to be near you or else they go to jail.”

Duncan slowly made eye contact with you.

“You're telling me… this whole time we could’ve just got a restraining order against our parents?” He whispered. “Apparently.” You whispered in reply, very shocked.

“All that trauma… for nothing.” He shook his head in disbelief, as you nodded in agreement. “Did you really not know that was a thing?” Beth asked, with a raised eyebrow. You nodded. She sighed, shaking her head.

—

|Trending on X right now|

#bethisatiredmom

#’allthatrauma..fornothing’samehere

#duncanisagreatdad

#gwenxy/n

#trentxfuckinggrass

—

tagged:

@lostsomewhereinthegarden

[caslyra]

A Harry Potter quote / extract / exchange that makes you giggle?

I would ask you which you find the funniest, but let's be honest there are too many to pick from, I think I'd panic at the question. But that's the thing. There are so many small moments that makes us laugh, so it's always fun to be reminded of some <3

Okay how am I supposed to answer this in under 500,000 characters??

There are so many... Harry in general ('Roonald Wazlip'/'Yeah I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult life'/'I didn't realize it had to be so wet'/'Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher. There was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head!'), Ron during Divination and especially his O.W.L.s, Tonks and Mad-Eye ('wand safety' and how he sort of softens around her?), Luna's opinion on aurors, her commentary during that quidditch match (Zacharias Smith!), Wood's completely wonky priorities, the article on Sirius aka Stubby Boardman, Ernie Macmillan's revision schedule, Lockhart's quiz and the reanactment of his glory days he forces Harry into, him dropping his wand during dueling club, Dumbledore's cheek directed at Phineas Nigellus, Fred and George, GINNY...

But these are two (forgive me) of my favorite extracts (I copied them, I hope there's no mistakes):

Professor Trelawney ignored her. Eyes open again, she looked around once more and said, “But where is dear Professor Lupin? 'I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again,' said Dumbledore, indicating that everybody should start serving themselves. 'Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day.' 'But surely you already knew that, Sybill?' said Professor McGonagall, her eyebrows raised. Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very cold look. 'Certainly I knew, Minerva,' she said quietly. 'But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous.' 'That explains a great deal,' said Professor McGonagall tartly. Professor Trelawney’s voice suddenly became a good deal less misty. 'If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal-gaze for him –' 'Imagine that,' said Professor McGonagall drily. [...] Harry and Ron got up first from the table and she shrieked loudly.' My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?' 'Dunno,' said Ron, looking uneasily at Harry. 'I doubt it will make much difference,' said Professor McGonagall coldly, 'unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall.'

And - because I think Harry deserves much more appreciation,

'Why were you lurking under our window?' 'Yes - yes, good point, Petunia! What were you doing under our windows, boy?' 'Listening to the news,' said Harry in a resigned voice. His aunt and uncle exchanged looks of outrage. 'Listening to the news! Again?' 'Well, it changes every day, you see,' said Harry.

[rednightmar3]

HALLOWEEN (PT 2)

tw: panic attack

“Time starts now!” They heard Axl yell from outside the door, and Duff turned to Slash. “So, Shirley. Nice to meet ya.” Slash giggled, trying to sound as girly as possible as he replied, “Hey, Duffy. You’re a cutie, aren’t ya?” He slurred his words, trying to sound drunker than he already was, as he had stolen from Axl’s stash of the hard stuff. Duff was so fuckin’ thankful for the darkness to cover his face, as he was sure it was bright red. “You ain’t too bad yourself, Shirley. Say, how ‘bout after all this shit is over we head back to my place?” Slash cracked, laughing as quietly as possible. “I can’t take this seriously, dude I’ve gotten hit on so fuckin’ much tonight!” Duff instantly felt jealous, but tried not to let it creep into his voice as he responded.

“You still gonna catcall those chicks at school now?” He could feel the wind as Slash vigorously shook his head, practically yelling when he said, “Hell no! That shit is terrible! It made me feel all horrible inside, and I was literally doin’ nothing! I was just wandering around and had my ass grabbed three times! Man, I’m gonna go and personally apologize to all those girls.”

Duff smiled, even knowing Slash couldn’t see him in the darkness of the closet. He sat down, hearing and feeling Slash sit next to him. “Do you know how much time we have left in here, pretty boy?” Slash asked, running his hand up and down Duff’s arm. Duff tried not to start freaking out at the nickname, and the touch, and shakily replied, “Uhm, I don’t know.” Slash definitely noticed, leaning closer to Duff’s face and tracing his hand up and down his arm, moving his other hand to his knee. “Nervous?”

“Just a tad, being alone with a pretty girl like you.” Duff tried to play along, hearing Slash giggle and his smile being the brightest thing in the room. “You have a pretty smile,” Duff said, being fully honest. Slash dragged his hand up his thigh, squeezing it slightly. “Thanks, sweetie.”

Duff felt his face heat up, and to match Slash’s energy he hesitantly placed his hand on Slash’s thigh. Slash just laughed softly, and Duff was trying to read into his every action. He paused, realizing that their time in the closet had to be nearly up, and since he would never be this close to Slash again and he would never be this fucked up again while being this close to him, he closed the gap and kissed Slash.

He felt Slash’s mouth part in a surprised gasp, before pulling away quickly. He removed his hands from Duff and scooted away slightly.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

“Was… uh, was that still acting?” Duff could hear the apprehension creeping into Slash’s voice and quickly tried to dissolve the situation but genuinely could not get any words out. He felt the air leaving his lungs and he didn’t realize he was crying until he felt a tear land on his cheek.

Duff opened his mouth to try and apologize, but all he could manage was a strangled sob. “Are you okay, man? I’m not mad, I just-” He was cut off by the door flying open, and Axl’s silhouette being the only buffer from the bright lights from outside. “Alright love birds- woah, Duff, you alright?” Duff tried to pull a hand up to cover his face, but was stuck, frozen to the spot. He watched other people crowd around the doorway, but could only bring himself to focus on Slash’s breathing from beside him. He shut his eyes and managed to squeak out, “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

He matched his breathing to Slash’s next to him, which while it was still fast it was at least slower than Duff’s and it was something to grab onto. He hesitantly opened his eyes, and managed to get his feet under him. He stood up slowly, but then ran out of the closet. Before he turned to the stairs, he stole a glance back at Slash.

He was still sitting on the floor, watching Duff run out of there with a confused expression on his face. He was softly touching his lips, his mind going a million miles per hour.

Why the fuck did I enjoy that? I’m not gay, I’m not gay, Duff is your best friend, you’re not gay for him. It’s not gay to kiss your homies! Even if I’m wearing drag right now, it doesn’t make me gay.

Right?

Duff sprinted past the guys on the stairs, ignoring their lazy grabs at his ankles and turned down the hallway. He’d been to Axl’s before, he knew this house. He opened the door he knew was the bathroom, but seeing it was already occupied by a group of girls he shut the door and moved on. Duff opened another door, this led to a guest bedroom but panicked when he saw two people absolutely going at it. Actually, he was pretty sure it was Steven and Adriana, so he moved on.

He flung open the door to a different bedroom, probably a spare and heaved a sigh of relief that it was empty. He closed the door, not bothering to lock it as he crumpled to a heap at the end of the bed. He let sobs consume him, hugging his arms and knees close to his body.

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.”

He repeated this, almost like a mantra as he cried. He could feel his head beginning to hurt as the sobs continued to rack his body, and tried his best to stop but it only made it worse. He couldn’t get his breathing under control, trying all the methods he had been taught but none of them seemed to work.

He had a stupid song stuck in his head, and it was all he could hear as he tried his best to calm down. Suddenly, it all stopped. He stopped crying, he stopped breathing, and he stopped shaking uncontrollably. This moment lasted for a few seconds before Duff screamed in pain, burying his face in the blankets and shaking pathetically as the sobbing came back. He wrapped his arms and legs as close as he possibly could, his weeping turning into screaming as he struggled to calm down. The shaking came back, worse than before, and he could only repeat a useless breathing technique to himself to hang on to something.

“One, two, three, four-” he couldn’t complete it, stuttering on the word four before breaking down again. He looked up at the clock, then back at the door wishing he were home. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling himself calm just a bit before crying out again.

This seemingly endless cycle continued for what seemed like hours, but only a few minutes had passed before Duff heard a quiet knock on the door. “Duff?” Slash’s voice was muffled and Duff felt himself tense up at the sound of it. He bit his hand, trying not to scream but a strangled cry still made its way out of his mouth as the door was slowly opened. Slash stood in the doorway, staring at the scene in front of him. “Shit, Duff,” he rushed forward, remembering to shut the door before stopping just in front of Duff.

“Can I?” His hand hovered over Duff’s shoulder, and Duff just continued sobbing into the blankets, no response. Slash rested his hand on Duff’s shoulder, running it up and down his arm while he sat next to him. “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe, you’re gonna be okay.”

Duff continued to shake, but his sobs were becoming less violent. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, his breath hitching as he said it. Slash shook his head, rubbing his arm. “No, please don’t apologize, I’m not mad, it’s okay.”

Duff looked up at Slash, reaching up to wipe the tears from his eyes. “Really?” Slash nodded, but Duff was still crying. He needed to distract him, and he suddenly knew exactly how as soon as he recognized the song playing downstairs. “Hey, Duff, what do you know about Led Zeppelin?” Duff lifted his head, turning his gaze to the door. “Oh, I know this song. Man, I love Led Zeppelin…” Duff started to talk on and on about them, and eventually his tangent led to other bands and Slash joined in when he could, trying to keep the conversation going.

About five or so minutes had passed from them talking, and Duff seemed to have calmed down a considerable amount but he would still occasionally stop what he was saying and stare into space and take a deep breath before continuing. Eventually, Duff sat up and stretched, locking eyes with the clock. “My mom’s gonna kill me but I can’t drive home this late.” Slash wanted to offer him a ride, but he then remembered all of the alcohol consumption that had taken place that night and didn’t bother to bring it up. “Should I just sleep here? Axl won’t care, I used to practically live here.” Duff looked back at Slash, and Slash just shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

Duff threw off his shoes, and climbed into the bed. He slid off the tutu and tights from under the blanket, still wearing boxers, and tore off the gloves and tiara. He watched as Slash stood, walking to the door. “Is there anything you need?” Duff was gripped by panic yet again, imagining being alone again and opened his mouth to ask Slash to stay but instead of an actual request all that came out was a timid, “Stay.” Slash turned, reaching to take off his jacket. “Are you sure?” Duff nodded, watching as Slash stripped to as little clothing as Duff was wearing, and slid into bed next to him.

“This is like the sleepovers we used to have,” Slash said, turning to face Duff. Duff smiled, agreeing and admiring his face. They laid there for another minute or so until Slash drifted off first, leaving Duff awake and alone with his thoughts.

I don’t think he cares, but I do. I don’t want to have ruined our friendship, even if I’m the one who’s acting differently.

Duff watched Slash’s breathing, slow exhales and inhales. He just looked at his face, noticing small details before turning to his back, instantly feeling awkward.

A wave of exhaustion hit Duff, and he turned back to his side, facing Slash again. “That was my first kiss,” he whispered, shutting his eyes and blocking out his view of Slash. “I’m sorry.” The word barely left his lips as exhaustion consumed him and he fell into a blanket of sleep.

[terrortwinss]

Dallas Winston x fem!Reader

Written by Spiral

It was dark in Tulsa, Oklahoma and you were just about to go to bed after a long and boring day of hanging out with your friends. As you flipped the final switch to the bathroom you walked towards your room.

When you stepped inside your room you felt a cold shiver run down your back it felt oddly chilly inside your room as you walked over to the window to see if it was open, it indeed was. You look over the ledge and saw a slight spilt in it. It was broken.

As the realization set in that someone broke into your house you became highly alert and hearing the muffled noise of the closet opening didn’t help it you were to scared to turn around as you heard the soft thump of footsteps on the carpet floor. The intruder crept closer and closer ever so quietly.

When you felt their breathe on the nape of your neck you used every ounce of strength and forced your elbow into their side effectively knocking them down. You quickly turned around only to find the pretty face of Dallas Winston forced into the carpet as he tried to suppress the groans of pain as he held his sore side.

“Damn baby if I knew you were gonna do that I would’ve held you down..” he chuckled standing up with the walls help.

“How’d you even get in dal” you asked hands resting on your hips and a scowl on your face he didn’t even seem to care about you hating being scared as he sat on you bed, Dallas insisted on doing it every chance he got.

“Pried the window open with a stick” he answered easily, you sighed police record and all you could never really stay mad at him he had that affect on you the way no one could stay mad at two-bit for long you couldn’t stay mad at Dallas.

Though that didn’t mean you didn’t like fuckin’ with em.

You turned your back to him, giving him a petty version of the silent treatment.

“Aww,sweetheart you mad at little ol’ dally for havin a bit of fun?” He teased getting up from his spot on the bed in favor of resting his weight on your back.

“Dallassss!” You whined as he practically pinned you down against the wall with his weight. “Get off, ya damn ,asshole” as you were about to cuss him all to hell he slipped his hands up your shirt and gently kneaded your breasts together in a clockwork manner.

“Doll,y’know I hate it when you cuss at me like that..” he whispered in your ear “reminds me of my old man” he sneered taking a rough grip on one of your nipples, causing a startled yelp to come from you.

“Dally, easy baby that hurt.” You whined and he placed butterfly kisses in your neck “my bad, doll face” he let a teasing breathe leave his lips as he turned you around to face him. “My god” he said nipping lightly at your ear “what?” You said “you look so beautiful like this” he grinned his handsome grin.

You tilted your head down at the comment not use to being called such things yet. He made quick work with take your shirt off leaving only your bra and sweats he put his right under your butt making your knees go weak and give out. He caught you and hitched you up making you wrap you legs around his slim waist.

“Easy there doll I haven’t even started much yet” he said carrying you over to your bed dropping you roughly. “Jeez Dallas, rough much” you nipped secretly liking the roughness of the latter something about him treating you as if you would break didn’t always sit well with you, you sat up and undid your bra letting it drop in you lap before throwing it around the room somewhere.

Dallas had a slight tent to his pale cheeks making him look all the more cute not that you’d ever tell him that he liked to think he was the tuffest thing that walked out of New York and into Tulsa big, bad Dally as you continued you thoughts on your lover boy he was busying himself with kissing and licking up and down you chest and stomach sometimes it caused a giggle and other times it drew out quiet moans.

One particular kiss right above your pants got a loud and sudden moan out of you, embarrassment clouded your face when you realized the noise you made and Dallas drank it up. Teasing the spot more and more as time went on he made his way lower and lower down your body before taking your pants off as they were in the way of his work and progress.

“Don’t you worry one bit sweetheart imma make you feel real good tonight..” He mumbled before tossing the last of your clothes and his shirt and pants off leaving you completely nude and him in his tidy widies. He placed his hand on your boob before kissing you. Messy and wetly he slid his tongue along yours drawing out low moans and soft pants while he grounded his hinds into you in a way that made you throw your head back in bliss. “D-Dally, just like that again!” You exclaimed him doing you ordered grounded into you again he made a noise between a hiss and a snarl of pleasure.

“Ahh…doll you’re doin so good” he said in between heavy breathes and low moans wanting him to be closer for better fraction you wrapped your legs around his waist again and pulled him into your chest tangling your hands in his hair you so desperately loved with one last movement you reached you limit. “Dallas!” You yelled out. Pulling his hair slightly in sync with your release. You released your legs from around his waist and your grip on his hair allowing him to sit up.

“I ain’t done with you yet, doll face.” He heaved finally removing the last of his clothes becoming nude like you have been. “Let me know if this hurts,sweetheart” he said slowly pushing into you using your earlier release as a type of lubricant you scrunched your face up in discomfort it stung like hell and when tears started falling from you face in small streams he lovingly kissed them dry. When he finally had himself fully inside he took a moment to let you get comfortable after a few minutes you stated rocking back and forth on him and “GOD!” did it feel good.

Dallas took your reaction as a sign you were comfortable and slowly slid out before pushing back in causing a low moan to escape you he didn’t care though slipping out again and this time roughly pushing back in you bit you lip to keep from screaming his name out but he simply lent down to your ear and whispered. “Come on baby doll, I wanna hear you,please?” That was all it took for you release your lip from between you teeth and letting the lewd sounds invade the room you two occupied he continued to rut into you a such a rough rhythm you couldn’t even made a sound but your facial expressions said everything for him. You started moving with him at a certain point making the pleasure ten times better for the both of you.

Then he got that spot that caused such a loud, long, and by far the most sinful sound to leave your throat that’s how he knew he found your sweet spot he kept the same pace he already had this time aiming for that certain point that would drive you crazy, and every time he hit it dead on. “DALLAS, please keep going, please!” You whined and begged you were so close and the burning in you stomach felt so good right about now. “Ahh~, god you are so pretty like this doll face!” He expressed kissing your lips roughly and driving his tough right to tangle with yours.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOD!” You repeated wrapping your legs around him and driving him deeper into you hitting the spot better than he was before causing you to rake your nails over the busied and batter back of Dallas leaving fresh red scratches that would surely scab over. After a couple more thrusts you dug you nails into his back as you had you second release of the night. Heavy breathing and shortening breathe were all that filled the room when Dallas slowly stopped moving. “You didn’t finish?” You asked feeling a bit bad about having the whole night to yourself. “Nah, think you can help me with that?” He question giving his big pretty eyes a little flutter, you giggled.

“Course I can, baby” you teased slowly getting off the now messed up bed to your knees while Dallas moved to have his legs hanging off the bed. You innocently looked up at him before lightly kissed his throbbing erection it drew a low guttural moan from him. You kissed all around it purposely avoiding the main event to egg him on. “Come on baby, I ain’t got all night now” he snarled getting inpatient with that you took him in your mouth slowly looming your tough over his tip he gripped your hair and curled his fingers in it a clear sign to “hurry the hell up” you let out a small moan making the boy bow his head down and small huffs to leave his body.

You liked that reaction so you did it again this time slowly starting to lick all around him and suck him simultaneously this combination caused tears to form in his eyes and to bite down on the ball of his fist to keep quiet seeing as he was gonna keep silent the whole time you ran your hands up his thighs slowly dragging your nails along them teasingly, humming pleased as he loosened his balled fist and let out a whine so cute you couldn’t help but coo making more vibration and more whines to leave.

He came not to long after and you swallowed every drop careful not to spill any you look up at your lover boy and saw tears still in his eyes the aftershock catching him by surprise, you walked off to the bath room and started to run a hot bath checking the water every so often when it was full and ready you hauled Dallas over and into it joining his soon after sitting behind him.

After washing yourself and him you put the sheets in the washer and put a different set on the bed opening the pried open window a little more letting the smell of sweat and sex leave the room during the night, shutting the lights off and getting into bed had to be the best thing you did all night and then when Dallas huddled up between your boobs you stroked his soft hair and kissed his head lightly.

Before dozing off yourself content with the events of the night.

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first time writing smut please request more stuff!

-spiral<3