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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

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omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership

And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”

Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle

Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...

Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?

Alastor: sureeeeee

And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit

and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”

And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)

I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3

A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.

Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.

Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)

Master Lists:

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Hazbin Hotel Master List

"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.

The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.

"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."

Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.

"Sure." she teased.

"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.

"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."

Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.

It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.

"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.

Y/n just shrugged.

"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."

Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.

"Sure."

They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.

Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.

He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.

Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.

"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"

Y/n shrugged.

"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."

Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.

"What a shame."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"I don't think so. It works well enough."

"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."

"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"

Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.

"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.

"Oh?" Y/n asked.

She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.

"Yep."

"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.

"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."

"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."

"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."

She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.

"Are you proposing we work together?"

"You're the one who said it, not me."

Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.

"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"

"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."

Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.

"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."

Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.

"Deal."

Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.

As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.

It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.

They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.

"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.

Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.

"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."

"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.

Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.

"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."

"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.

"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."

"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."

Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.

"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.

"Oh this is totally a date."

"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.

She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.

"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.

"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."

"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.

"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."

Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.

"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."

Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.

"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.

"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.

"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"

"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.

Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.

"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"

"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."

"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."

Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.

"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"

"Blue eyes?"

"Umm... yeah."

"Yep, that was me."

"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."

Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.

The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.

They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.

Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.

That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.

Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.

Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.

At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.

"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"Y/n."

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."

Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.

"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"

Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.

"What, you fucking want some too?"

Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.

Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.

"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.

"He what?"

"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."

Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.

"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.

At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.

"Well, he's definitely dead."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.

"He deserved it."

Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.

"Can you walk me home?"

Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.

"Of course, my dear."

They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.

No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.

"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"

"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."

"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."

"I... It's about Y/n."

"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"

"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."

"Spill."

"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."

"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."

"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"

"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"

"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."

"I thought your dad was dead?"

"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."

"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"

"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."

"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"

"Just something, okay?"

"I have got to quiz her about this."

"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."

"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"

"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."

"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"

"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.

"What are you, twelve?"

"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"

She sighed.

"Alastor, you have a crush on her."

A beat.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."

"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.

This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.

"Are you sure?"

"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."

"Fuck."

Mimzy laughed.

"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."

"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."

"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."

Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.

Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.

When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.

Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.

Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.

"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."

"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."

"The way... he ran?"

"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.

Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.

"Didn't you see?" she asked again.

"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."

"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."

She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.

"Alastor."

Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.

He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.

There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.

They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.

"I-"

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Are you going to try to kill me again?"

"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."

Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.

"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."

"We will not be swingers."

Y/n laughed.

"Just had to make that clear."

"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2

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wxnheart · 10 months

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On today's episode of "My Simpin' Ass Friend Asks Horny Ass Questions": How would the boys react to you putting your hand in their back pocket and copping a feel?

Capt. John Price - Is startled to the point he drops his cigar. Oops. He's a little sheepish about it but it feels good knowing the old man's still got it.

Gaz - It actually didn't register because he was paying attention to something else; it takes you literally squeezing his ass for him to realize it. Jumps slightly. Will also hit you with the side-eye every time you point out how hilarious his expression was when he did it, too.

Ghost - Will sigh in long-suffering. Is just long-suffering in general. This is exactly why he doesn't bend over whenever you're nearby because you're liable to make a comment or two ("Nice ass, Lt."). Has gotten used to it to the point that he gauges your disposition by whether or not you cop a feel that day.

Soap - One of two things. Hits you with one of his signature smirks and steals a kiss or he'll giggle... snort. You are not allowed to talk about the latter. Your uwu golden retriever.

Alejandro - To your surprise, he hits you with that stare. Yeah, that stare. You know, the one where he's gonna give you something you can feel later on that night. Have you walking from side to side the next day *in my Ariana voice*.

Rudy - Actually jumped when you first did it. Tries to crack a joke to take away from the fact that he was caught off guard but all it did was make you laugh harder at him. No, his cheeks aren't red, what the hell are you talking about?

König - König.exe stops working.

Horangi - Does it back. Two can play this game. Caresses your ass; makes love to it with his hand. Leaves you horny and angry after he walks off all triumphant and shit.

Graves - "I've always been blessed, darlin'." This is accompanied by the most sleaziest grin you ever saw. Smug bastard.

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lovifie · 2 months

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No One Needs to Know... Right?

This is my humble little addition to @glitterypirateduck O, Captain! Challenge ❤️

Prompt 17, 69 and 83

Warning: alcohol intake, smut, a bit rough Price, oral sex, dacryphilia if you squint (like, just a line) and I love to make him desperate for pussy. Enjoy ❤️

“I have told you once, and I'll tell you twice, Kate.” Price says, pinching his nose bridge as exasperation fills him. “I am not, working with Adamson.”

“And I have already told you twice, John.” Laswell answered, just as annoyed. “That there is no other choice, this is coming from upstairs and there is no room for negotiation. I'm sorry”.

It wasn't the first time that Price had needed to work along with another unit, but Colonel Adamson was surely the worst.

The old man constantly had his head inside his own ass, too busy complimenting himself to care about the success of the mission or about everyone getting back home safely.

He was not a man you would like to have to trust your life on and know John didn't have another option. So all be could do, was get mentally prepared for what was to come.

And to do so, he relied on his old run-down trusty pub just out of base. He sat down on the stool he always did, ordered his scotch on the rocks as always and remained silent, letting the voices in his head quiet down.

Just silence.

Alone.

Like always.

“I'll have the same he's having” A female voice next to him brought him back.

He looks to his side, staring at the woman sitting down next to him. The pub is not necessarily fancy, but still, the jeans, t-shirt and sweatshirt you are wearing give it away you got here soon after work and not necessarily for pleasure.

“It's this seat taken?” You ask the man, worried now that he won't stop staring at you.

“No, no, please sit down.” He answers quickly, the smile on his face contagious. “Hard day at work?”

“What gave it away?” You ask puffing a laugh, you look down at his glass. “Yours wasn't that great either or that the celebration?”

He chuckles, wide shoulder shaking slightly as he does. “Definitely not celebration.” He raises the glass to his lips, your eyes following the glass and staring for maybe a second too long on his lips.

It is easy to fall into a comfortable conversation with the man, a mix of dad jokes and a level of understanding that someone with the same job would have. Still, neither of you talks about your jobs, both because it is the reason you are in a pub getting drunk and also because it is not an easy job to talk about.

You don't notice how close you have gotten to each other until you are resting your head on your hand with your elbow resting on the bar and you try to rest the other arm on the backrest of the stool only to find Price is already resting his in there.

You look at his face as you lay your arm on top of his, looking for any sign of discomfort, only to find that easy smile on his face again. You open your palm, letting it rest over his massive biceps; the wild thought of it around your neck as he fucks you from behind running through your mind for a second.

“I think I have drunk too much.” You admit chuckling, rubbing your face with your other hand.

Now, Price is not a stupid man; and the way you bit your lip unconsciously when you touched him, your eyes getting darker just for a second let him know perfectly fine what your feelings were.

“Want me to walk you home, sweetheart?” He asks, looking at your face to see your reaction; and when he sees you look at his eyes only to drop your eyes to his lips he smiles widely.

“Well, aren't you a gentleman…” You mumble standing up, taking your card out of your pocket to pay.

“Please, my treat.” He says, taking his out as well.

You quickly shake your head. “Nope, I'm paying tonight, sir. You can pay next time, how about that?” You ask, winking at him as you do.

He chuckles, putting his card away amused with your antics and waiting for the bartender to charge you. Once done, he walks next to you, his hand on the small of your back. “How far away is your house?”

“My Airbnb actually, just down the road.” You answer, pointing with your finger where it is.

Sadly, it doesn't take long to reach it, and even though you opened the door the two of you linger in the doorway.

“You know… the weather broadcast said that it was going to rain tonight…” You say, knowing damn well the British man couldn't care less about the rain.

“Oh no… I guess I better get inside, right?” He smiles, taking a step forward towards you.

You quickly nod your head. “Yeah, we don't want you getting wet.” You pull his shirt, making him lean down and crush your lips with his.

His arms find their way around your waist, hugging you close and pulling you up the floor. You barely manage to close the door once the two of you enter the flat; a mess of tongue, spit and drunk words spilling out of your mouths.

Your legs find their way around his waist, him holding you up gentleman-like with both hands on your ass. He pulls you closer, letting you feel his growing erection against your clothed cunt; earning himself a moan falling for your lips. “Fuck…”

“John, sweet girl. That's my name, moan it loud so I know how good I'm making you feel, alright?” He asks, groaning when you grind yourself against him.

“John…” You moan softly, pulling your head back and that's all he needs to attack your neck. Pulling his tongue flat against your collarbone and up to your ear like a desperate dog.

He sits you on top of the sofa backrest, moving his hands to pull your sweatshirt and t-shirt off. Groaning when he sees the sports bra, almost offended that there is another layer to peel.

You chuckle at his desperation, only for him to suddenly move his hips forward against your cunt making you moan. “That's better.” He murmurs against your mouth once he manages to take off your bra.

He leans down, catching your nipple with his teeth before sucking it inside his mouth, groaning as he does. His arms circle your middle, pulling you tightly as he keeps grinding your core; too desperate to remain immobile.

He moves lower, his tongue running from the middle of your chest down your boob up to your side, bitting down over your ribs making your moan mix with a hiss.

Your hands find his hair at the back of his head, pulling hard enough to force him to peel his face back. Looking back at you, eyes dark with desire, lips red, swollen and wet for the kiss and licking at you and stupidly smug smile on his face. Makes you want to wipe it from his face.

“Up, to the bedroom, now.” You order, pulling him closer with your legs around his hips.

“Yes, ma’am” He chuckles, picking you up again; groaning when you lower your face to attack his neck. Licking up his neck, feeling his heartbeat under his skin just as fast as yours.

He enters the doorway to your room, hitting your knee against it as he does making you curse. “Fuck, John. That's how your aim is going to be tonight?” You ask teasingly, your knee hurting just enough to complain.

“Oh, shut up. My aim is impeccable, sweetheart” He answers scoffing, as he sits on the bed with you on his lap.

“Aw, did I hit a weak spot?” You ask, cocking your head with a fake pout in your mouth.

“Darling, I don't have weak spo-” He cuts himself up with a struggling moan when you lower your hand to grab his erection through the clothes.

You chuckle against his mouth, kissing his half-open mouth. “I want to taste you, John” You whisper keeping your eyes focused on his expression.

He smiles, happy with your urge to satisfy him, and kisses you back. “Yeah? You want me to fuck your throat, sweet girl? Why don't you do it with your pretty pussy resting on my face, hm?”

You whine back, brain slowly turning to mush; barely managing to stop kissing him for long enough to stand up and take off the rest of your clothes. He does the same, lying down using your pillow to prop his head up and staying with an arm extended inviting you in. And fuck if the sight is nothing but inviting, you knew his dick was big just from sitting on top but you were not ready to see the big, uncut, thick piece of meat sitting between his legs; too heavy to stand up on his own and instead slowly dripping precum onto his thick thigh. Watering your mouth at the thought of how his happy trail will rub against your clit later on the night.

You crawl back onto the bed, completely forgetting about the sitting on his face part and focusing on getting him into your mouth. Until a hard slap lands on your ass making you cry and turn your head to look at him offended.

“That's not where your pussy is supposed to be at, innit?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. And when you take too long to move for his liking, he takes matters into his own hands grabbing your hips to hoist you on top of him with ease which only adds to your current horniness.

“Ffffuck, that's a sight I would fucking kill to wake up to every day” He groans behind you, deep voice making you clench with desperation which makes him chuckle. “Hmm, she likes it when I talk about her.”

And it feels like you are intruding on whatever is going on between him and your pussy with the way he is talking about it like it is her whole person. So not wanting to interrupt, you bend down fisting his dick in your hand as you wet kiss his tip.

“Aww, did you get jealous that I was giving her some attention, darling?” He says, apparently completely unaffected by your attention to his cock which only makes you crankier.

You get his tip on your mouth, completely ignoring him when suddenly he moves his hand down to the back of your head grabbing your hair in a fist and keeping your head in place only for him to begin to thrust his cock into your mouth and down your throat.

You automatically start choking on it, gagging and wet sounds filling the rooms. You manage to relax just throat just a bit, which he takes as an invitation to shove his cock inside until your nose is plush against his balls.

Tears prick your eyes at the abuse of your throat and the lack of air, hearing him groan at every convulsion of your throat around him and he only pulls back when you dig your fingernails on his thighs.

The hand on your head pulls your head back making you arch your back as you gasp for air, thick threats of saliva still connecting your lips with his glistening dick as you cough.

“I asked you a question, I don't like it when I get ignored, love. Alright?” He asks a certain gentle tone to his voice that totally throws you out of place. You nod quickly, a croaky “yes” the only thing you are able to answer.

“Good girl.” He says, letting go of your hair to pet your head slightly pushing it to rest on his hip close to the pool of spit at the base of his cock. “Just lay there, darling. Let me enjoy my treat.”

You have barely managed to get your breath back when he takes it away again by running his tongue from your clit all the way up to your ass, groaning as he does so.

“So fucking delicious, so fucking good.” He groans, moving his arms under your tights to pull you impossibly closer to his mouth, making you moan loudly when he sucks your clit inside his mouth rubbing his tongue against it.

He looks pussy drunk already, a chaos to the way he is eating you up; going up and down, side to side, fucking your holes with his tongue, grabbing your ass with his massive hands pulling them apart to get the whole view, eating you out like a starved man.

It's hard to get air into your lungs with the way you are moaning again and again, grabbing onto his hips to ground you feeling him pull you again and again against his face; it should be you fucking his face instead it feels the complete opposite.

“Fuck, John, I'm gonna…” You moan, toes curling as you feel your orgasm approach. “I'm gonna come, John. Don't stop, please, don't stop.”

He chuckles, delighted with your begging before shoving two of his thick fingers inside your cunt making you hiss at the sudden stretch and throwing you off, orgasm getting further away and making you whine pathetically at its loss.

“Quiet down, I'm getting you there but I need your tight little pussy nicely wet and stretched before I get my cock in you.” He groans after spanking you again before he starts to move his finger in and out, adding a third one not too much later making you cry in pleasure. “You can take another one, right, love? You won't get my cock if you don't.”

“I can!” You moan embarrassedly fast. “I can, please, put it in, please.” You move your hips back against his hand, moaning loudly when he gets the last finger inside only keeping his thumb out to rub your clit making you moan loudly against the skin of his lower stomach

“Attagirl, c’mon, sweet girl. Come around my fingers so I can fuck your pretty pussy all nice and sweet.” He cheers you on, moving his hand faster. You bite down on his abs, the layer of fat that covers them catching between your lips making him hiss as you come, clutching down so hard his fingers get spitted out of your cunt.

He groans, licking your juices again making you jolt at the feeling, shoving his whole face against your cunt getting drenched in your juices. Only pulling back when he runs out of breath, letting you fall down on his side, your leg still resting on top of his chest.

“Pretty thing winking at me and everything.” He coos, running his thumb along your hole making you shiver and slightly slapping his leg.

“Let me breathe, for fuck sake.” You barely managed to say, still struggling to breathe. He chuckles, moving your leg off his chest and grabbing you by your waist to sit you on top of his abdomen not caring about getting his torso wet.

He rests his hands on your hips, with you resting yours on his chest and he looks at you with a smile on his face but still trying to catch your gaze. “You alright, darling?” He asks, his thumb rubbing circles on your hips.

“Yeah.” You answer nodding, noticing a certain tense feeling leaving his body. “I just need a second, that was… that was something.”

He laughs, his eyes disappearing into thin lines as he does. “I hope something good… do you wanna stay on top? Set the pace?”

You nod quickly, agreeing it is possible the best for the both of you and you look behind you. “We can wait, love. We have no rush- ah, fuck.” He groans when his tip catches onto your entrance, making the both of you moan as you slowly sink deeper. The stretch of his cock inside of you leaves you with shaky legs as you dig your fingernails on his chest. You bend down, resting your head on his shoulder needing a moment to adjust. He doesn't say anything, kissing your temple softly and rubbing his hand up and down your back.

You grind your hips against his, moving slowly, his dick barely moving but still enough to make the both of you softly moan. You sit back up, resting your hands on his chest as you start to slowly move up and down, his tips deliciously grazing your cervix kissing it with each thrust, so deep you almost feel it on your stomach.

You move slowly, choosing depth over speed; his hands on your waist helping you up and down as his eyes travel down your body to where you are connected to him.

“That's it, darling. Take what you need.” Price says between moans, not moving his hips. And if he hasn't fucked you stupid already, you would. You would turn the man into a puddle, make a mess out of him, have him babbling nonsense, too pussy drunk to even remember his name. But instead, it is you the one who can barely stand straight, whining about the tiredness of your legs aching for a break and you bend forward resting your hands on the headboard of the bed, wanting to cry.

“I can't… please, move. I can't, please, John, please.” You cry, legs shaking too exhausted to keep moving.

“Shh, sweet girl, don't cry.” He says, propping himself on his elbows to lick at your cheek where a tear spills. “It only turns me on more, love.”

He lays back down, chuckling when you whine again and he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you close, setting his feet on the mattress just to start thrusting up into your core hard and fast.

You cry in pleasure at the sudden change in rhythm, arching your back and making it easier for him to get your nipple in his mouth, moaning and biting around it.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” He moans, forehead pressed against your chest. “Cum around my cock, darling. I want to feel you choke my dick like you did with my fingers, c’mon, pretty girl, come for me.”

And it is like he has godly powers over you because with the way he keeps thrusting up and at the same time as he talks to you has you coming embarrassing fast. Clutching his dick like a vice making him struggle to keep moving but without giving up, coming inside just after a couple more thrusts.

You lay down on his chest, both of you breathing hard but without moving. He pets your hair, brushing it back behind your ear, running his finger through undoing some of the knots he finds. “You're alright, darling?”

“Greater than great, John.” You answer smiling, raising a bit to kiss him on the lips, slightly moving your hips making you both groan. “A shower?”

“A shower indeed.” He chuckles, kissing you deeply for what feels like a second before helping you stand up before standing up himself.

It is a sweet innocent shower, soft kisses on your shoulder and sweet kisses on his shoulder blade; helping the other clean up like a couple who have known each other for years.

Once outside, you lay on your bed naked looking at him as he dresses up. He bends down to give you one more kiss before muttering: “Never in my life have I hated my job as much as right now for making me leave you like this, and with the kind of job I have it says a lot, sweet girl.”

You chuckle shaking your head, softly slapping his cheek. “You are just being dramatic, John.”

He grumbles back, standing up and you walk after him to the door hiding behind it once he opens it. You peek your head outside, saying goodbye and once you think he is leaving he turns around.

“You know… I'm gonna be quite busy this week, but next week, same day and time as today I'll probably drop by the bar again… in case we coincide again…” He says, indirectly asking you out making you chuckle at the fact he is shy to ask you out as if he didn't have you choking on his dick just an hour ago.

“I'm sure we will, John.” You say, making him smile fondly. He gives you one more kiss before he disappears down the street.

The next morning, Price is not so happy. He barely makes it into the brief room before the rest of the team walks in. But it's not his boys who make him mad, it's the colonel who walks after them, cane in hand.

“Colonel Adamson” Prices greets him, greeting his teeth as he does.

“John.” The older man answers, a disgusting smile on his face as if he just told the best joke of his life. “So you are still alive… maybe you are not as bad as I thought.”

“I don't need to prove myself to you, and this is merely a business meeting.” He says, already done with him pointing to the empty chair before him. “Please, sit.”

“Actually, sorry to disappoint you, John. But I retired last year, I'm not the one working with you this time.” He says, walking closer to him, raising the cane to slap on the opposite hand. “It's my daughter, you see? And if I hear that anything happens to her under your watch, you better die on that mission, son. Or I'll take care of it. I don't want a scratch, bruise or tear on my girl's face, understood?”

“She'll be fine.” Price answers, not really threatened by the man, feeling that if his daughter is anything as repulsive and just plain horrible to deal with no one will even think about laying a finger on him.

“There you are.” A voice draws his attention, a voice uncomfortably familiar. “I told you to wait for me, Dad.”

“Sorry, dear. Just wanted to greet my old friend before leaving you at it.” He says the first genuine smile John has ever seen on the man, and it is only because he is talking to you.

His daughter.

Of the man that just threatened him about touching you.

Is okay, he just needs to play it cool and no one needs to no.

Right?

“Oh. Hi, John.” You say enthusiastically. “Why didn't you say you were coming here too? You could have stayed the night.”

Fuck

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ellieslittlewh0re · 5 months

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ִ ⋆｡ °✩ ❝ 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐄 𝐋♡𝐕𝐄 ❞ ✩°｡⋆

(𝒘𝒌) 5k

〚𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒〛 ✰ rockerstar! ellie x groupie! reader ✰

〚𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒〛 ellie williams. her name was everywhere- the underground music’s next breakout star, and for a good reason too- a honeyed voice mixed with gravel, her passion, energy, the fact she was everything rock and roll should be. also, let’s not forget the sex appeal.

〚𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒〛 sex, love, drugs, and rock and roll. !!TW!! for descriptions of drug usage ( c0cain, L$D) fingering (r! receiving), oral (r! receiving), strap on usage (r! receiving) overstim kinda, dom e!, sub r!

It started with a video- a grainy, shity quality one at that, but still a video. She was center stage of some grungy bar from the looks of it, spotlights illuminating her face enough to see stands of her hair sticking to her forehead with sweat, and a chipped cherry red electric guitar hanging from her shoulder. She was magnetic, hypnotizing- not just with her performance, but her looks as well.

From that day on, you just had the desire to get closer to her in any way you could.

It had been two months since you started following her band while they toured across the West Coast. You had been to every show, seen every performance, and Ellie was starting to catch on.

The first time she saw you, you immediately caught Ellie's attention- I mean, how could you not? You were by far the hottest girl in the venue that night, swinging your hips so effortlessly it put the rest of the girls to shame. Ellie remembers that night vividly because she was so pissed she couldn't find you after the show to bring you back to her shitty motel room and have her way with you. But Ellie quickly forgot about you when the company of two other girls took your place that night, along with a few too many hits of whatever her drug of choice was during that time.

So, that's how you ended up here- at a run down gas station bathroom touching up your makeup in the middle of the fucking desert, and a van full of strangers that you were currently hitching a ride with waiting outside at the pumps.

And Ellie? Well, Ellie was doing what she always does before a show- drugs, and lots of them, whether it was molly, coke, weed, tabs, or maybe even a deadly concoction of all the above, she didn't care as long as it made her feel alive- claiming it made her perform better or something, but really she just liked being fucked up while fucking girls after the show.

While Ellie was living this "glamorous" rockstar lifestyle, you were on the complete opposite end- quitting your day job to follow some girl around who doesn't even know your name and catching rides from people who definitely look like they have seen the inside of a prison cell- AKA, you were a groupie.

The air was hot, stale. A thin layer of orangy, rust-colored sand coated the windows and the van's gaudy upholstery. The landscape outside flashed like an old fashioned reel movie, cacti, shrubs, Joshua trees, and repeat.

It was desolate, and if the road and occasional mile marker wasn't there to remind you, you would've thought you were on a different planet.

"Your stop is next, daisy." The man with a handle bar mustache yelled from the drivers seat, meeting your eyes in the review mirror.

Daisy. A nickname given to you by the group when they first picked you up further up north. You had a daisy tucked behind your ear, and from then on, you were daisy.

It was dark by the time you arrived at the venue, venue isn't really how you would describe it. It was more like a diner turned bar turned into whatever the fuck it was currently. You waved your goodbyes to the the group of not-so-strange strangers, all of them bidding you 'farewells' and 'good lucks' before you watched the red tails fade into the pitch dark of the desert.

For once, you were early. Turns out a bunch of traveling hippies and outcasts aren't on a timed schedule, who knew?

Even though you were early, the dirt patch of a parking lot was packed, cars in various stages of deterioration lining the sides of the building, and people gathering outside to avoid the cramped interior. But you weren't here to socialize or drink and get high- you just wanted to see her, dance to the strum of her guitar, and let her voice consume and overtake you.

It was 40-ish minutes past midnight, meaning Ellie and her band were late, but that's not a surprise. She had a bad habit of keeping the people waiting, but she was a busy girl- hanging out backstage or at a hotel, a room full of girls for her to pick from, and no shortage of drugs and alcohol. But tonight, she went a little too overboard. Her band mates were practically carrying her across the motel parking lot to their van, trying to get her to sober up on the way to the venue with water and motivational speeches that mostly consisted of "get your fucking shit together".

The short 30 minute drive to the venue was barely long enough to get Ellie back in the right state of mind. She was slightly unsteady on her feet, and her speech was a little slurred, but she's used to preforming under these conditions.

You waited patiently of course, babying a strong cocktail mix since you didn't dare get drunk and risk not remembering every detail of the night- every detail of her.

When the crowd shifted their attention to the back entrance of the building, silent murmurs at first before a load cheer erupting was when you knew, she was here, and she looked like heaven- a black tank top that was torn near the neckline, a studded belt loosely securing a pair of baggy, black patchwork cargo pants.

The crowd parted a pathway for her as she made her way through the room with her bandmates following behind, a cigarette tucked between her lips as she'd occasionally stop to sign whatever was thrown at her- a piece of paper, cash, a pair of tits- which she'd always happily comply, but if she saw a girl she liked, she would lick her pointer finger and index, smearing part of her signature on their cleavage while the marker was still wet to subtly let you know that she wanted your company for the night- at least, that's the rumor you've heard.

You found yourself holding your breath- she was so close, a mere body or two keeping you at arm's length from her. You could smell the cigarette smoke, and see the details of her chipped black nail polish holding the marker between her fingers.

Ellie hands the notebook and marker back into the wave of hands, looking up while blowing out a cloud of smoke, and that's when she sees you. She was about to walk off, but she stopped for a second. You don't look like you belong- you were different, sweet, and innocent-looking compared to the rest of the audience. But she doesn't let her eyes linger long, she has a show to put on after all.

She turned, and walked towards the stage stairs, and centered herself behind the mic. She shifted her weight on her feet, and took one last drag of the cigarette before suffocating the embers on a ashtray near the edge of the stage.

"How's everyone doing tonight?" She barely could make out before the crowds hollering drowned out her voice. She laughed into the mic while plugging a cord into her guitar that was connected to a beefy looking amp.

Her ego was at its biggest right now- just her mere appearance could make a group of strangers act like dogs, and she fucking loved it.

She played a few cords on the guitar, ensuring the tune was where she wanted it before looking back up into the crowd, "c'mon, you can do better than that." And even though her mouth was covered by the mic, you could tell she was smirking.

The crowd cheered louder, fists clenched high above the sea of heads, and chanted her name over and over exactly how she wanted them to.

And for you? Well, you were also chanting her name, maybe not as loud, but you were too busy squeezing your way through to get to the front.

She needed to be able to see you.

And she did see you- you were front row, playfully singing and dancing along, your bright, twinkling eyes boring into every little thing she did- from the way she'd run her hand through the front of her hairline, ridding her face of the baby hairs and bangs, down to the way her fingers curled over the frets of her guitar. She made sure to look elsewhere into the crowd, interacting with everyone, but her eyes always found themselves back on you.

Ellie closed out the show with an encore, most of the crowd was overly intoxicated at this point, stumbling, and starting meaningless fights with whoever was closest- aka the usual time you'd leave, but you couldn't, at least, not when Ellie was walking towards you, her eyes set on you. You glanced to your right then your left- confused, and definitely was searching for an explanation as to why she was getting closer. Surely, it was someone else who caught her attention, but it was only you nearby.

You take a step back from the stage as the tips of her dirty converse near the edge. She bends down at the knees before sitting all together, dangling her legs over the edge. She doesn't say anything, and you didn't either, maybe from intimidation mixed with confusion as to why she chose to sit here out of all places.

She reaches her tattooed arm behind, shifting her weight to pull out a pack of cigarettes, and offering the carton to you, but you shyly decline. She smirked, a dimple deepening on the one side of her cheek, "So-" She said, her voice momentarily muffled by the cigarette between her lips, "-you don't look like you're from here, where'd you come from, baby?" She ignited the end with a metal lighter, holding a free hand up to cover the flame which only amplified the warm glow of the flame on her face.

You chuckled a nervous laugh, looking down at your fingers as she blew out a puff of smoke, "M' not. I'm from up north. " Your voice trembled, leaking with submission and uncertainty which only fascinated her more, but also she was frustrated- most girls wouldn't need a conversation to know what Ellie wanted from them, and you weren't looking at her.

She grabs your hand, and pulls you closer to the space between her knees. A sharp breath gets caught in your throat as she does this, your cheeks hot, and your gut feels like it's jumping being this close to her- enough to smell the fumes of her cologne mixed with ash. You watch her fingers come up and hover over your chest, her fingers gently dancing along the skin of your clavicle to examine the charm of your necklace, but really it was just a flirtation tactic to her.

"What's a girl like you doing in the desert in the middle of the night, huh?" She asked, dropping her voice down to an almost whisper- raspy, and thick with suggestion. You shake your head side to side, a nervous tick of yours when you felt uncomfortable, but being uncomfortable isn't always a bad thing.

"I uh-" you paused, mentally wavering if you should tell the truth since it does seem a little pathetic. "-I wanted to see you play."

Ellie's eyebrows raise, her bottom lip puckering into a frown with a slight nod. "Is that so?" She hummed, rolling the edges of the charm between her fingers. Ellie was certain she had seen you before. It wasn't a trick of the light or getting your face confused with some other hot chick- you were unmistakable. But she didn't want you to know that she found you out, not yet, not now.

Ellie learned in further, your knees almost buckling out from under you, feeling her breath against your lips. She played it off like she was getting a closer look at your necklace, extending the religious symbolic charm out so the chain tugged on your neck. "Do you believe?" She asked, still looking at the damn necklace, furrowing her brows like she was in a deep philosophical thought.

You swallowed dryly, wishing you still had your drink from easier, "N-not really-" you stuttered, "it was a gift from when I was younger."

Ellie chuckled, but it wasn't lighthearted or sweet- it was dark, methodical, and a tad bit sadistic.

She released the charm from her fingers, letting it hit your bare chest with a muted thud before looking up. Her eyes were a darker shade than you remembered them being- irises blown out and framed beautifully by a thick band of dark eyelashes.

Her hand reached out and gently grabbed you by the wrist before yanking you closer so your tummy was flush with the side of the stage, leaving only a few inches between your tits and the denim of her crotch.

You inhaled a sharp, breathy yelp as she did this, your hands not knowing what to do or where to divert your eyes- her hands on you, her face so close to yours that you could count the freckles on her cheeks, even the ones that are faint enough to miss- or maybe how her thighs were drifting apart, and you were in between them.

Her hand comes up, which causes you to squeeze your eyes shut, but the wrinkles around your eyes relax as you feel her hand on your face and her lips on yours. You moaned instantly at the contact, resting your hand on her thigh where it felt most comfortable. Ellie took this opportunity to slip her tongue inside, using the muscle to work against yours. Her hand snakes down your side, squeezing the soft flesh of your hip before pulling away, leaving you breathless, and hazy.

Her eyes were intense looking into yours, her lips wet and craving a deeper satisfaction.

She only said one thing, a simple sentence that would separate you from being just some regular fan,

"Come with me tonight, and I'll show you something worth believing."

So that's how your night shifted- how one decision to follow some band across the state had finally paid off because now you were here- a hotel room, alone with the band's most valuable member snorting lines of a white powdery substance off of a mirror topped end table.

Ellie held the rolled 20 between her fingers, putting the end of it to her nose while the index on her other closed the opposing nostril shut. She dragged the end of the cylinder across the smuggled surface, inhaling deeply until the white line disappeared behind it.

"Fuuck-" She sighed, throwing her head back, and swipes the bottom of her nose with her thumb,

"Here-" She held out the rolled 20 for you to take, but you lean away,

"I don't do that stuff."

She looks at you curiously, a furrow between her brows that suggests she found your refusal even more entertaining.

Ellie leaned forward and turned her body to face you on the edge of the dusty duvet, "What-" She scoffed, "'think you're too good for it?"

You shook your head violently, indicating a 'no', "No- no, that's not what I meant-"

Ellie laughed, causing you to stop mid-sentence, "I'm just fucking with you, doll. I should've known." She smiles, and you return the smile in relief that you didn't actually offend her.

Your eyes divert to the wallpapered walls- a faint pattern of stripes with cream-colored baseboards, a warm yellowed lamp on the bedside being the only source of light in the room to contrast the night outside.

You felt her hand creep up your thigh, tempting the skin below the hem of your dress before it disappeared underneath the fabric altogether. She leaned in, her other hand on your face to encourage you closer, whispering a "so soft" in a raspy breath before connecting your lips with hers.

It started slow- her lips overlapping yours like a soft current on a still morning before it turned into a ranging one during a windy cast. You moaned into her- soft and delicate mews between each detachment, and it fueled her.

Ellie's body overpowered yours, using her strength to her advantage. But it's not like she needed it- you were putty in her hands, fully committing yourself to her, letting her push you into your back, and her body hovering on top of yours.

You squirmed beneath her- each bump, and drag of her knee between your legs left you feeling more desperate.

"Ellie-" you broke the kiss in a breathless euphoria, looking up at her with a needy expression. Ellie knew that face well- it's not like she had all this experience and didn't know what to do with it, so- she got up, leaving you alone on the bed, and walked over to a black duffle bag decorated with pins of miscellaneous logos and bands.

She riffled through it, pulling a small clear plastic bag out before joining you back on the bed.

She opened the baggie, pulling something out no bigger than the size of a postage stamp, and tearing it into smaller halves before looking up,

"Do you trust me?" She asked, her green eyes piercing into yours, causing a wet sensation to spill from the heat between your legs. You swallowed, not really sure what you were agreeing to, but you nodded anyway, "Yes, Ellie... I trust you."

She placed the colorfully decorated paper on her tongue and held the sides of your face, kissing you and slipping her tongue inside, transferring whatever it was into your mouth before pulling away. "Swallow." She demanded, tilting your face up by your chin, and you did it without hesitation- straining the walls of your throat as the mystery stamp slid downwards.

She smirked, and swiped her thumb over your bottom lip, "good girl."

She followed it up by doing the same, placing the tab on her tongue and swallowing, but she made it seem so much more intentional like a ritual of some sorts.

Ellie leaned away from you in the bed to rest her back against the headboard and pillows, "C'mere" she said nonchalantly, patting her thighs.

With shaky knees, you did as you were told and crawled your way up her legs until you were straddling her waist.

Her hands come up to rest on your hips, her thumbs tracing circles through the flimsy fabric of your dress, "so obedient" she said lightly, almost under her breath to herself and not at you directly.

Her hands started to wander- first on your hips, then down to your thighs, gliding them up to the plush beneath your skirt. You felt her fingertip squeeze and caress, sending chills up your spine and a hot/cold sensation throughout your body.

Next, her lips were on yours, and her fingers were tightening the follicles on the back of your scalp as the kisses became more intense. Your back instinctively arches, and you reach a hand between your legs to soothe the ache, but she stops you with a firm grip on your wrist, "Gettin' impatient, huh?" She said in a cocky tone, smirking against your lips. You whimpered- nodding your head, and grabbed her hand, inching it closer to your core.

Ellie chucked at this- the kind of chuckle that was half way a scoff, and half way felt like an insult.

"Damn- you need me to fill you up that bad? 'thought you were one of them good girls."

She tisked her tongue against her teeth, but still let you guid her hand where you needed her.

The back of her knuckles grazed between the pillowy folds over your panties, going agonizingly slow before turning her hand over to fully palm your cunt.

You melt on top of her, resting your head against her shoulder, all the while dragging your hips against her hand.

She turns her head, her warm breath fanning against the helix of your ear, "You're so wet and I've barely touched you."

Her words echoed throughout your brain like her voice waves were sending signals to every part of your body. And her touch was magnified- each cell, fiber, and pore was experiencing a new sense of heightened, whether it be because of the drugs or not, you couldn't be sure.

"El-Ellie, please... need you."

Your words rang a siren song to Ellie's ears, creating a sticky pool between her own legs. She muttered a guttural "fuck" before she grabs you by the sides of your thighs, flipping you over so she was on top of you.

She was already yanking down your underwear, and tossing them to the side before you could comprehend what was happening. You felt her fingers stinging to the flesh of your thighs, prying them apart like she couldn't wait to see you, to taste you.

You sucked in a sharp breath as her tongue lightly traced a line down your folds before her lips met your clit where she pulsated the bud between her lips, letting out a moan as she made contact, "fuuck-" She curses before flicking her tongue over your bundle of nerves, igniting a colorful array of shapes behind your tightly closed eyes.

She was messy but precise- using her tongue along with the motion of her head to send you that much further. Your fingers tangled in her hair, tugging harder the closer you got which was the perfect time in Ellie's eyes to add a finger.

She slowly pushed her middle finger inside, stopping halfway at her knuckle to let you adjust before slamming it all the way till her knuckles were snug against your puffy lips.

You wriggled beneath her, reaching out to push her away with a palm to her shoulder, but that only makes her add a second finger.

You cry out loudly through heavy breaths, the veins on her forearm coming to the surface of her skin from how much force she was using, and her mouth putting in just as much work.

You were climbing higher and higher, the peripheral of your vision going white-

"Ellie... I'm- I'm gonna-" You don't have much time to warn her before your body starts to spaz, starting at your hips and up into your chest like volts of electricity through a highly active current.

Your knees close around her head, your back arching high off the mattress, and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. She slows her pace as you come down before pulling her fingers out and lifting her head.

With your eyes closed, and an arm draped over your face, you feel her pat the inside of your thigh before her weight leaves the bed.

She comes back a couple of minutes later, only opening your eyes when you feel her weight return to the mattress.

Your eyes go wide as you take notice of the new attachment- a black, strappy harness with buckles near her hips, and a crude shaped silicone cock bulging at her crotch.

She lowers herself over you, her hands on each side of your head before she leans down to kiss you, slipping her tongue inside. She pulled back, momentarily admiring the way you looked just from something as simple as oral and some fingering- glossy eyes, puffy lips smeared with her spit, and if she looked down- how your inner thighs glistened.

Her lips trial from yours, staring at your neck, then your chest, and finally your tits which Ellie had absolutely no problem with pulling the straps down to expose them, leaving the fabric bunched around your stomach. In her eyes, everything she wanted- no, needed was accessible this way.

Ellie looks up, placing a delicate kiss on the skin of your lower stomach, "Got one more fr' me, pretty girl?" She asked softly, tenderly, but it still managed to come off more intimidating than a question should sound.

You nodded shyly, a small whine emitting from the back of your throat, looking down at her with your breasts out for her viewing, grabbing pleasure, and your legs spread wide, ready to take her.

She lifted her upper half up, slim fingers holding the base of her cock, and lined the artificial tip with your entrance. She glided the tip up your folds, coating it with your slick, and let out a sultry exhale since she could practically see your walls clenching around nothing in preparation for her.

She teased you for a bit- only giving you a couple of inches before backing away and repeating, each time causing you to whine harder and harder out of frustration. Sure, Ellie was having her fun watching you squirm, grab for her, and fuck- how your hole gapped each time she pulled out, a clear, viscous fluid leaking from it, but she was growing just as impatient- feeling your legs wrap around her waist, pulling her closer, pleading variations of her name and "please" and who is she to deny you when you ask so nicely?

She thrusts her hips forward until her crotch was flesh with your ass, your legs in the air, and her hands pushing on the back of your thighs.

"Is this what you wanted, huh?" She gritted, pulling her hips back only to snap them forward again.

You cried out loudly, curling your fingers around the bedsheets until the blood stopped circulating, turning the skin there a lighter shade than the rest of you.

She pushed harder on the back of your thighs- your knees pressed up against your chest, and using what you can imagine is all of her strength to thrust into you. She was reaching the deepest part of your cervix- grunting and moaning on Ellie's end while you mewled high-pitched noises mixed with the wet slapping of her cock repeatedly slamming into you.

Ellie's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly upward, and her lips parted as insufficient, short breaths seep from them. Her hips started to falter from the endless abuse her clit was suffering behind the base of her strap, her boxers now a sticky, cold mess that stuck to her cunt and thighs.

She collapses on top of you, snugging herself between your legs to connect her lips to yours in a desperate effort, overpowering all your senses with her. She continues to fill you over and over again, both of you moaning in between breathless lips.

You wrapped her arms around her as her head hung low into your neck, digging your nails into the skin of her shoulder blades.

"El... mmhm- I'm gonna-" You babbled before biting your lip to silence the cry that was bubbling in the back of your throat, and Ellie wasn't far behind.

The pistoning motions of her hips turned into a grinding one- keeping a steady pace and rolling her hips forward, "M-me too- fuck... stay with me, yeah?" She said in between soft pants, the warmth of her breath brushing against your lips as her hand came up to gently but firmly wrap around your neck.

Ellie's head goes fuzzy as you looked up at her with your half-hooded gaze and your perfectly rosette lips that are just begging to be wrapped around something, so- she released the hold she had on your neck and brought her two fingers that were previously inside of you to your mouth.

She didn't even have to say anything for you to part your lips wider, slipping her fingers inside and rolling them over your tongue.

You moan, closing your lips around her as her fingers reach further back, causing tears to fall from the corner of your eyes.

"That's it-" She coaxed, her eyes focused on the split trailing down your chin,"-such a good girl."

She motioned her fingers in and out in a vulgar manner, bitting her bottom lip before pulling her fingers out all together to fist the bed sheets beside her.

"Fuckfuckfuck-oh my god-" She grunted incoherently, dropping her head to space between your neck and shoulder. Her forehead glistened with proof of her efforts as she rushed the pace to ease the itch between her legs.

You tightened your legs around her waist, pretty little noises falling on Ellie's ears as you both peak.

She rolls her hips- making it slow and deep until your voice grows tired and quiet before pushing her upper half away from you.

You wince at her absence, feeling your walls retract back to its original shape like the sand inside of an hourglass.

She plopped down beside you with an exaggerated sigh of exhaustion, pulling up the bottom of her tank top to wipe the slick/sweat mixture from her chin and nose, giving you a few seconds to admire her hardened stomach and prominent 'v' which lead your eyes down to the fake dick still standing high between her thighs.

She catches you looking, the corner of her lips tugging into a smirk as she lets out a low chuckle.

You meet her eyes, realizing you have been caught, which causes you to look away quickly, but her hand grabs yours.

"Gettin' shy on me now after all that?" She said, pulling at your hand to silently instruct you to get on top of her, so you did.

Her hands rub up and down your thighs, and her bottom lip snug between her teeth. She eyes your body, starting from your tits down to her cock that is resting against your lower stomach.

"Wanna do me a favor?" She asked, palming the fat of your thigh that spilled over the heels of your feet. You hummed at her- a sweet, genuine hum that was full of eagerness to assist her, which almost made Ellie feel bad for what she was about to say- key word almost.

"Put that pretty little mouth of yours to use and clean me up."

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cyxnidx · 6 months

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DADDY'S GIRL !

characters: dad!pantalone & dad!wriothesley

genre: hcs + imagines

a/n: i love wrio's design sb omgomgomg. also pls ignore how janky wrio's icon looks compared to pantalones :(

Pantalone

dad!pantalone, who can't help himself but laugh when his little girl tries to wear his glasses.

"why, look at you." pantalone coo's, finger gently tickling his two year olds stomach while she tries to fit his seemingly oversized glasses onto her small framed face. "just like daddy, aren't you?"

dad!pantalone, who's ever so gentle with his little girl.

dad!pantalone, who buys his little one everything she could ever want.

walking beside pantalone, his little girl wobbles slightly from her thick bubble coat keeping her warm in the harsh winter. they pass a store, and the small girl stops for a moment, noticing a toy through the glass. "daddy?" she calls, pointing at the glass as she waits for her father to crouch down, matching her eyesight. "can i have one?" she asks sweetly, eyes going wide. pantalone smiles, "of course, darling."

dad!pantalone, who lets his teenage girl do his nails and makeup.

dad!pantalone, who laughs to see himself reflected in his teenage girl's personality.

dad!pantalone, who compares his girls baby pictures to her now, smiling when he notices she hasn't changed a bit.

walking down the corridors of his home, pantalone smiled as he saw picture frame after picture frame of his little girl, years seemingly passing in a flash. though, with closer observation, he notices her face hasn't changed a bit - perhaps a newer birth mark, but nothing else. "dad?" he hears her voice. "what're you doing?" she questions. pantalone cocks his head slightly, smiling. "nothing - you just look the exact same in the face." he tells her, lightly tapping her nose in a playful manner.

Wriothesley

dad!wrio, who loves to help his toddler play with her little toys.

"daddy." he hears his little girl call for him, pulling at his index finger for his attention. wrio looks down, noticing her pointing at her dolls and doll house spread across the living room floor, pieces no longer where they were supposed to be. "help me, please." she asks politely.

dad!wrio, who adores it when his little girl curls into a ball in his arms late one night while watching a movie.

eating a handful of popcorn, wrio almost doesn't notice his little girl move the bowl to the table and instead places herself into his arms, face buried into his chest. wriothesley smiles softly, tightening his grasp around her smaller body as he continues to watch his movie.

dad!wrio, who smiles when his teenage girl still comes to him for help.

dad!wrio, who always lets his teenager do his hair whenever she deems fit.

dad!wrio, who always tries his best to model the man he hopes his little girl will fall for.

driving his teenager to her father-daughter dance, wriothesley pulls into the parking lot. "don't touch it." wriothesley tells his teenager, stopping her from touching the car door handle. "dad.." she groans before watching him get out of the car, walking to the other side and opening the door for her. "c'mon, let's go." he says, hand out to help her out.

dad!wrio, who feels his heart melt hearing his possessive toddler yell 'my daddy' for the hundredth time.

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charmedreincarnation · 7 months

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When I say that this journey is real, and our struggles are not in vain, I am shouting it from the rooftops. A month ago, I woke up with my dream life. Obsessed with the "void state", I woke up one day being the same person but with an entirely new life. All because I chose it.

Your efforts aren't going unnoticed. The universe is always on your side. You are the universe. It's been a month, and I still feel overwhelmed with joy and wonder every single day.

I was once poor and battling depression, a reality many can relate to. But we found the law because we knew we deserved more. You can be ordinary, flawed, even unkind, but you can choose to transform and have it all. And I did just that. My parents, who were illegal immigrants working underpaid jobs, are now wealthy and respected figures. My last name alone garners recognition, and I am a socialite earning money just by being me.

I used to live in an attic infested with cockroaches. Now, I reside in a four-story mansion, complete with exotic cars, house help, cooks, drivers - all treated and compensated fairly. We also own three other houses across the United States.

I was once insecure, severely underweight, and bullied. Today, not only am I stunningly beautiful, but I am also praised for my fashion sense. I was once a dull person, but now I am radiant with positivity.

I attended an underfunded school where I was bullied, and teachers lacked resources to intervene. Now, I study at a prestigious private school that assures my entry into an Ivy League university. Finally, I am respected and appreciated.

I was lonely and uninteresting. Now, I am vibrant with a close-knit group of friends and a man who seems straight out of a Wattpad story. He's perfect, and he's mine.

This transformation happened overnight. And I've been on this journey since 2020. But how??? I surrendered to my imagination!

The void was overwhelming, but now I can easily navigate it. I was tired of giving my power away. So, I gave in to myself, to my dreams. I knew I deserved it. Even if I didn't believe it at times, I made the choice. If you desire something, it's already yours. It's done.

I didn't have a list or anything of my desires, just a vision of happiness. I didn't know what it looked like, but I knew how it felt. Now, I embody that feeling every day. My life is a series of plot twists. It's not perfect, but my worst days now are what I once prayed for. That old life? POOF It's gone. All I have is now, and I'm living it to the fullest.

My advice?

Stop seeking proof. If you're looking for proof, you'll never manifest your dreams because the only thing that needs to change is self. Doubt is a reflection of your disbelief in yourself. When I surrendered to my imagination, it didn't matter who was lying or telling the truth, because I had my truth. The burden of proof lies within you. It's called the law of assumption. You might harbor some doubt, but you must have faith like the devout. They believe without proof. You can too! We all can! Believe in yourself, and the universe will conspire in your favor!!!!

I agree! Your words resonated with me a lot. Faith, particularly self-faith, is such an important tool in shaping our realities. The ability to trust ourselves, our desires, and our potential is essential in manifesting our dream life, and it’s only so beautiful to slowly see yourself give yourself all your trust when you’ve never even liked yourself.

You're spot on about the issue of seeking confirmation from others. It's an unnecessary hurdle that we give ourselves but it’s human nature. Our truths and dreams should not be validated by anyone else but us. As you said, why should it matter if someone lied or told the truth? We are the creators of our own lives and thus, the only validation we need comes from within.

And I wholeheartedly agree with your point about deservingness. We don't have to earn our desires or prove ourselves worthy of them. If we want something, that desire alone makes us deserving of it.

More importantly I am very proud and happy for you !!!! You’re a testament of what our own imagination can do for us and I hope you only keep getting happier and happier <3!!!!

#sucess story #manifestation #law of assumption #dream life

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brainwormcity · 2 months

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We all know there's a fat erasure problem with Good Omens art and photo edits. We've gotta stop being afraid to let them have skin folds, stretch marks and soft bellies but another thing we don't talk about is how important it is leaving them their wrinkles, their eye bags and their imperfections of age. It's part of their beauty but it also signifies something incredibly important, in my opinion.

Part of what makes Crowley and Aziraphale such unique and wonderful examples of representation, is that they're not perfect, model-like young adults. Middle aged queer characters are so important because queer elders as a whole are so rare. The world's respective governments significantly failed queer folks during the AIDS crisis in the 80s and as a result, older queer couples, especially mlm or masc presenting couples aren't particularly prevalent in media, and having that example is a strange little beacon of hope.

So please, let Crowley have his forehead wrinkles and let Aziraphale keep his eye bags. Not only are they lovely, notable parts of their appearance but they symbolize something larger than just that. Let these old, alt, soft, queer man-shaped beings be just that.

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flamingpudding · 11 months

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DPxDC Family Week June 24 (Day 7)

Prompts: Distant Relatives | Engrave

A/N: This is what I believe some would call straight up crack :D

AO3 Link: DPxDC Family Week Contributions

How do you tell your great great great great great (how many greats do you add when the child is the x-generation after about… how many years again? Danny had lost count) grand nephew that the ghost king, he just summoned, with an old family heirloom is his granduncle of many generations?

"Batman. Why does the pendant you gave me summon the fucking Ghost King?" Danny heard a familiar man in a trench coat say next to his nephew (he decided he needed to keep it simple there were too many greats to count)

The batman grunted glaring at the man, Danny blinked finally recognising the guy.

"Aren't you the guy who sold like a tenth of your soul to Ellie's spouse? I am sure I also heard Lucifer complaining that Mammon got more parts of your soul than he has." Danny mused as he looked down at them in his eldritch form. Noting how his nephew tensed as he got past that pathetic wall of protection.

Honestly all the protective engravings he had gifted his nephew and nieces through out generations were a hundred times better. How else would a place like Gotham survive on only Lady Gotham as spiritual protection from ghosts of the Ghost Zone and his former rogues that still liked to mess with his children, nephews and nieces? At least Jazz's branch of the family was safe from them this way. He had baby proofed the entire town or better every town a part of his branch family lived in.

"So, trading game, why did you summon me?" He would have liked to stay hidden, you know? The branch family had long forgotten their relation to the Ghost King and Danny had easily accepted that. His own child of chaos had not so much and preferred to play with the earth family branch but that's besides the point. They had used the pendant to summon him, with his own personal engraving. Did that mean they remembered or did his son let something slip to his cousin?

"Trading game." Someone snorted and for the first time since he got summoned Danny noticed the audience around him. His eldritch form did the equivalent to stunt blinking as he straightened up and took count of the children of his nephew. Baby Ghost, Baby Menace, Baby Stalker and Baby Stabby were there.

A gasp left his lips. A Baby Ghost was sick! In a puff of greenish smoke his eldritch form was dismissed and he changed to his favorite 20 years old Phantom form, rushing past his nephew and trading game.

"You poor baby! I didn't realize you were this sick! If I had known I would have done something way sooner!" He fretted as he inspected one of his nephew's babies, hovering around the boy poking and prodding the little guy, well little to him anyway.

"Who are you calling a baby?! Get your fucking hands of me!" Danny only hummed, patting the baby's head, only a little sad that he couldn't look at his face as Baby Ghost was wearing his favorite red explosive helmet and was on duty.

But on second thought seeing their cute little uniforms live was way better than when he had watched them through his ice mirrors. "Don't worry little Red Hood. You will be feeling a whole lot better soon. Your Uncle Danny will make sure of it."

"The fuck?" The sick baby probably looked at Danny like he had gone insane and the ghost king could only laugh. Good had it been long since he interacted with the earth branch family let alone humans. Maybe he should start accompanying his youngest to his visits to earth.

"Constantine! I thought the sigils were supposed to contain him!" He heard his nephew grunt and Danny grinned over his shoulder at them.

"My little nephew. I granted you way better engravings than this pathetic wall of protection." As if to prove a point he flew around the babies, stopping by the youngest and pulling his sword from him. There were gasps of shock as well as complaints and he couldn't help the laugh as little Baby Stabby tried to lunge at him but got held back by the eldest Baby Menace. He just held the sword towards his nephew and trading game as he held his palm against it and let his power flow. Soon the sigils he had placed on the sword as a homecoming present to the youngest baby, when he started living with his nephew, started to appear, glowing and shining.

"You… you engraved your sigils on things the bats own?!" Disbelieve clearly coloring the trench coats' voice as the man paled. His nephew appeared to be close to start brooding like he had seen him do a couple of times through the ice mirrors. Danny returned the sword, huffing amused how little Robin instantly inspected the sword again, the engravings no longer visible.

"Of course I did. I promised my sister a long time ago that I would always protect her children. Though the engravings were certainly hard to hide from one of your babies."

"Sister? Babies?" Baby Stalker aka Red Robin aka little Tim asked and Danny coed. This baby always reminded him of his best friend Tucker and he was glad to have a technology adept child in the family again.

"Yes your great great great uh…" he stopped thinking how many greats he needed to add and ended up sighing compromising with: "...your grandmother many generations ago."

"How many of our things did you engrave?" His nephew finally grunted out, trench coat guy definitely looking like he was having an aneurysm by now.

"Don't remember, decorations, jewelry, toys, weapons, I think I even engraved your belt buckle." The ghost king shrugged, he honestly didn't. Ellie liked to joke that he was way too protective of the earth branch with the amount of protective engravings and sigils he had put up for them without them even knowing. She was still a little cross with them when they started forgetting about their ghostly part of the family after Jazz died.

There was a distinctive frustrated sigh and for a second Danny did feel bad for his nephew. Maybe he should not have just simply spewed everything but he couldn't hold himself back when he saw the sick baby. He was protective of his family, sue him. At least he hadn't given any of his nephews potential mates a shovel talk yet, not like he had with Ellie's spouse anyway. Jazz had banned him from using Fright Knight's Soul Shredder on humans after he had mentally scared and traumatized her first boyfriend with it. Apparently the guy had been too weak to handle it and lay sick in bed for a while after his return from the nightmare realm.

That reminded him! Turning around he flew up to the sick baby again who flinched back from his touch. He ignored that and only made a calming thrilling noise, calling out to the baby's sick core.

"Get the fuck away-"

Poor baby must be suffering badly from uncontrolled anger and ghostly intermittent explosive disorder. No wonder he hadn't developed any of his powers yet. That Disorder tended to be violent, especially the ghostly kind. Carefully letting his power wash over the baby, Danny coaxed out the little underdeveloped core. Usually he would make sure to do these kinds of things for any of his children, nieces and nephews in a safe environment but this was an exception. It was a sick baby core that would receive long lasting damage if not treated.

Gasp resounded as the tiny core came out of the baby's chest, not wasting any time Danny refresh the ectoplasm in it and removed the corrupted one. He then sent the core back into the baby's chest patting him where it sunk back into the body.

"There you go! Should be all good now!" A second after he said it Danny blinked at all the weapons that were pointed at him. He flinched a little as Baby Menace let electricity spark near him.

"WAIT THAT IS THE GHOST KING YOU IDIOTS!" Trading game screamed, apparently finally waking up from whatever stupor he had been in.

"So? He did something to Todd. Who knows what that was." Danny cooed, he knew Baby Stabby cared, his own youngest was similar in that way, just more chaotic in his display of affection, which also earned him his title. Little Damian was also the most intune with ghostly etiquette next to Baby Ghost, considering the reason for the nickname Danny gave him.

"And he can destroy entire dimensions! Do you guys want to doom us all?!" Trench coat countered very much insistent that the babies pull back their weapons.

Danny in return only huffed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. Like he would destroy the home of the earth branch. That man was talking rather rudely to them and he was also stopping him from bonding with his nephews' babies. "Buzz of trading game. This is a family matter and if the babies want to bond then we will bond."

After a moment of consideration he added. "Also don't talk to them like that. They are royalty and I will not have you disrespect them."

With a wave of his hand a green portal opened below the man swallowing him. Being nice Danny decided to drop the man off in his own home. He was the one that taught his nephew how to use the pendant again after all. But he wanted to be left alone with his family. Before his nephew or the babies could panic he smiled brightly and said. "Don't worry I sent him home to his house of mysteries or whatever he calls it. So we can have some family time! Besides, my In-law wouldn't be happy if I harmed his contract even if his soul is a trading game among the demons…"

They all shared a look and seemed to take the ghost king's words for it. Especially as litte Jason finally got out of his shock, patting at his own chest and mentioning that he indeed did feel better. Saying that there was no Pit Madness in his mind anymore, huh so that's what the Disorder got called on earth.

They instantly questioned Danny of what he did to which their ghostly uncle only smiled at the once sick baby without answering. He would have Frostbite to take a second look soon though, just to be safe.

"You mentioned us to be royalty?" The gruff voice his nephew put on when on duty resounded and a warm smile spread across the ghost kings face to the wonder of the bat-clan present.

"I thought that information got passed down through all the generations like the summoning pendant." The ghost king tilted his head. "You do know your part of the Infinite Realms Royalty right?"

"We… are royalty? For real?" One of the babies slowly asked and Danny grinned at them.

"Of course you are. In fact, the little Baby Ghost here-" He flew up to Jason, the once sick baby and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Is the fifth in line should neither my children, nore Ellie or her children want to take over the throne when I don't want it anymore and don't feel like bothering on waiting for someone to beat me in a succession battle."

"Red Hood is? Shouldn't it be like Batman or Robin?" Little Tim asked and Danny sadly shook his head.

"By earth standards, sure. Not by Ghost Zone standards though. They don't have a core, it would be different if they develop a core after death but right now? It's baby Hood here who is in line."

"So… to sum it up." The oldest baby started packing his weapons away and Danny felt just a little bit disappointed but the youngest had his sword out. So maybe a bit of bonding would still happen now that the earth branche knew about their relationship again.

"B is a descendant of your sister which makes him royalty and in turn all his children, blood and adopted equally? And Red Hood is even in line for the throne of another dimension because he has, what you call a core?"

"Yup." Danny popped the 'p', he was about to explain more considering his nephew had adopted quite the stoic look and the babies did appear to become slowly a little too overwhelmed. When a red portal opened and his own son decided to join the family reunion.

"Dad! What is taking you so long? Aunt Ellie is sending me to fetch you cause she thinks you're skipping your meeting with the observants again!"

"KLARION?!" Baby Stalker shouted and Danny blinked. Oh right, his own baby boy liked to bond with his cousin's babies. When was the last time his baby boy visited earth? Oh the babies were taking on fighting stances. How sweet of them! Even his nephew was tensing up and looked ready to fight.

"Baby Spook, are you here to bond with your cousin's again?" Sue him, he couldn't help the excitement. His little chaos was the most interested in playing with his earth branch family compared to everyone else in the ghost branch, including Ellie's children. They liked to mess with entire dimensions though and nearly caused at least three wars in the last ten years. They had also inherited Ellie's ire in regards to the earth branch forgetting their existence. That's why his youngest son had taken it upon himself to teach and bond with the little ones here.

"Bond?" Little Tim questioned while his son sighed.

"Beings of the Infinite Realms bond via fighting. How else are we going to teach babies how to protect themselves and become stronger?" The Lord of Chaos explained in exasperation like he was talking to a toddler. Considering their age differences he kind of was, Danny mused.

"Hold on, does that mean all the times you spent attacking was…?"

"Me bonding with you babies, yes. My siblings as well as older cousins aren't interested so of course that leaves me, the heir and superior cousin, to take care of our earth bound family."

"Even when you messed with the watchtower?"

Klarion arched an eyebrow at Batman. "Just because you are the oldest among the earthly doesn't mean you're any less of a toddler."

"Klarion." Danny warned, his cousins might be babies by ghost terms but that didn't mean he could act all arrogantly with them. Danny might have spoiled the boy since he was his youngest child but he surely had raised him better than that.

"No bonding today, Dad, you do have a meeting scheduled." A sigh left his lips, he guessed it was time to return. The disappointment must have been written all over the ghost king's face as his son huffed in amusement. "Maybe next time, Dad. You can come alone… if you get away from the observants."

"Alright, alright." Agreeing, Danny flew over to the summoning cycle and picked up the pentant before floating to his nephew.

The boy took a step back from him but Danny just smiled and continued forward, placing the pendant around Batman's neck. "My calling card, little nephew. We don't exactly have phones in the Infinite Realms. So use that to call me any time, though now that you guys got reminded about your relation to me I will make sure to come visit more often and not just watch and protect you from the other side."

"See you later Amadillos"

"Bye Bye Baby Bats!"

With that he didn't leave his nephew and the babies time to respond as he opened a portal and he and his son returned to the Infinite Realms, where an angry Ellie was waiting for him. Oh boy…

Meanwhile the bat clan exchanged looks slowly digesting the information dump that had just happened. They had just wanted to have Constantine check on the engraving they had on a family heirloom that happened to be similar to one that was found on an ancient egyptian summon plate and had caused some rather dangerous events.

Who would have thought that the Ghost King himself would tell them that they were apparently related and royalty in another dimension?

"I am so going to rub it in Roy's face that I am Royalty." Red Hood broke the silence.

"I always knew I was of royal descent." Robin added holding himself even prouder than before.

"Am i the only one losing my shit here that B and Robin are apparently blood related to Klarion? Also… just a warning I am going to start digging into the Family tree now." Red Robin informed with a glint in his eyes hidden behind his mask. He was definitely not asking for permission to do so.

"The Ghost King kept calling us babies though." Nightwing sounded amused, watching at how his brothers were taking the news and wondered how the rest of the family would react.

While Batman on the other hand was brooding and appeared to be severely constipated, probably thinking of all the worst case scenarios and most likely trying to figure if he needed a contingency plan for their newly discovered interdimensional family or not.

John Constantine on the other hand awoke back in his home and let out a long and suffering groan with the new knowledge he gained. Apparently the ghost king's in-law had a contract with him and now he also couldn't even be rude to the bats anymore because they were royalty and he would be screwed and potentially risk his entire existence should the Ghost King take offense. He was fucked the next time he had to deal with the bat-clan again.

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rafeandonlyrafe · 16 days

Text

the same tv

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context

the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.

you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.

you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.

you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.

this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.

the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.

you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.

you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.

“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.

“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”

the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.

“i thought the people who lived here died.”

you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.

“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.

he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.

“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door.

“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.

-- years later --

you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.

“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.

“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”

he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.”

he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”

you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.

“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.

you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.

“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”

“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”

you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin.

“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal.

“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”

“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.

“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.

“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.

“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.

you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.

“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.

“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.

“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”

you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”

-- three months later --

“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”

you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.

“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.”

you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”

“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.

“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.

“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.

“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.

“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”

“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch.

you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.

you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.

rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.

you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.

“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.

“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.

“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”

“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.

you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.

rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”

“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.

rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.

you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.

the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.

by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.

“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.

you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”

things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.

“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.

rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.

“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.

you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”

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