([identity profile] wrote in [community profile] resdog_kink2012-09-26 11:42 pm
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Reservoir Dogs Prompt Post: ROUND 1

Here it is! The very first prompt post of the Reservoir Dogs kink meme!

Write a prompt in the comment section (either anon or under your username), labelled with pairing or character(s) and a vague summary (with any applicable warning). Hopefully, someone will see it, be inspired, and reply with a fill. Anyone can write/illustrate/etc any prompt they find the inspiration for. It's like the fandom circle of life.

Before you begin, PLEASE read the RULES POST.


Orange/White: Rent Boy AU

(Anonymous) 2012-09-27 06:08 am (UTC)(link)
So, a common trope in this fandom is Freddy's youthful looks, right? What if he was an undercover cop posing as a rent boy trying to entrap potential johns? Larry picks him up, wrestles with his misplaced feelings of guilt ("this kid's so young!" "what the hell am I doing?"), and ends up treating him like a prince ("poor kid could use a good meal and a good bed"). Now Freddy's all conflicted... Larry never actually broke the law, and he's a real gentleman. How does he let Larry know that he's in his twenties... and is a cop? He'd like to give this thing between them a try for real.

Re: Orange/White: Rent Boy AU

(Anonymous) 2012-09-30 10:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh god, hello new thing that I need very badly! (Ack, accidental de-anoning remedied.)

Re: Orange/White: Rent Boy AU Fill 1/?

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Re: Orange/White: Rent Boy AU Fill 3/?

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Orange/White: Gun Kink

(Anonymous) 2012-09-28 01:22 am (UTC)(link)
Gun kink please. Freddy's always had a thing for firearms. Becoming a cop didn't calm him down any and now Mr. White wants to take him to the firing range for a little lesson before the heist. Whether to add some melancholy foreshadowing or keep it fun and light is entirely up to you.

Re: Orange/White: Gun Kink

(Anonymous) 2012-10-07 03:11 pm (UTC)(link)
omg yes! I want this too

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Russian Roulette

(Anonymous) - 2014-08-19 22:17 (UTC) - Expand

Orange/White: male in lingerie kink

(Anonymous) 2012-09-28 12:35 pm (UTC)(link)
"After that he'll tell you if he wears lady's underwear."

That wasn't just a throw-away line from Larry. That was him testing the waters with the hot young thing in the seat next to him.

Give me Freddy; defiant, arms crossed, jaw clenched around a cigarette, cock barely trapped inside the lacy black panties slung low on his hips.

Larry's so turned on he can hardly think...

Filled: Freddy in panties kink

(Anonymous) 2013-04-22 06:25 pm (UTC)(link)
(This is my first attempt to write orange/white fics and porn. Unbetaed. Read at your own risk)

Mr. White sits on the small sofa in his apartment. The light inside the room is dim, only comes from the table lamp beside the bed and the street light which bleeds through the closed curtains. There are cars and other street sounds muffled in the background, but the old criminal can only hear his breath and the hard thumping of his heartbeat. He shifts his legs so both are spread, he moves his hand to cup his crotch which already hard since he stepped into his apartment and found his beloved apprentice, Mr. Orange, stood almost naked and seductive smirk appeared when the younger man heard the sudden hitched breath came from his older partner.

Mr. Orange only wears a pair of black panties, the silk one. The panties are slung low on his hips, reveal his perfect shaped Apollo's belt of his stomach. His hard on is showed clearly, and Mr. White can almost sees the balls peeked from the panty line.

Mr. Orange rests his weight on the working table behind him. The street light is coming through from the window behind him, illuminating his pale skin. He is smoking, white smoke dancing around him, like a blanket around his almost naked body.

The old criminal is savoring the sight in front of him, every shape of the muscles, the pale skin, the shadow on his partner's beautiful face, the bright green eyes and the black silk which sinfully covered the last uncovered part of the beautiful body.

"C'mere, kid." Mr. White says, surprisingly with calm sound. The younger man smiles, not the seductive sensual smile, but the fond, warm one. He thinks it is so adorable that his older partner trying so hard to keep calm, though he can see much heat in the other's eyes. He loves it. He fucking loves the man.

Mr. Orange stubs his cigarette into the ashtray on the table and walks towards the other man. When he already stands in front of Mr. White, he stops and stills for a few second, glances down to the man sitting in front of him, before he sits on the other's lap, spreads his legs so he straddles the other man. Mr. Orange can feels the sharp intake of his partner's breath. He just smiles and then take the other man's mouth in heated kiss.

The kiss is so hungry, Mr. White shoves his tongue inside, licking inside, sucking the high pitched moan which come from Mr. Orange. They are bitting, licking, and sucking, like they can't get enough of each other.

Mr. White spreads both his palms on the younger's back, caressing the naked skin and can feels the sweat on his back. His right hand then travels lower, until he reaches the panty's line. He dips his hand into the panty and gripping the younger's round ass. Mr. Orange moans from all Mr. White caress and the sudden grip on his ass cheek. He breaks the kiss, but his swollen lip still near enough from Mr. White's it still slightly touches the other's lip.

The older man looks up to see the blushing face of his partner, eyes closed, lips red, swollen and shinny from the kiss. "Fuck! You're so beautiful." He whispers before claims the other's mouth once again.

Mr. White pulls the panty down, revealing half of his partner's ass. Mr Orange's trapped hard cock now slipping out, spread the wet precum on Mr. White's trousers. He moves his hips now to create friction between his cock and Mr. White hard on which still covered by the trousers.

Mr. Orange is now humping on Mr. White's lap, head is thrown back, reveal his sweat slicked neck and his adam apple's curve, moaning in pleasure, both his hand grips the collar of the older's shirt. His body is now so sensitive against the older's clothes. The cotton layer touches and rubs his ribs, his stomach, his nipples, gives him the ticklish pleasure on his sensitive spots.

Mr. White dips down onto the beautiful neck, kissing, licking, sucking and bitting the flesh, spreading the purple reddish mark across the pale neck and then to the collar bones. He is now dipping lower, to suck on the pink rosy nipple. He gives the kitten lick to the bud first, before sucking so hard and makes the younger man shouting so loudly. He sucks the hard nipple like he tries to elicits the milk from it. Mr. Orange is trashing and moaning from the ministration.

"Ah ah ah... Larry..." Mr. Orange grips the older man's hair, he can feel the stinging pain from his right nipple where the older bitting and sucking it hungrily, but the pain gives him the trembling pleasure on his spine and then to his swollen hard cock.

Mr. White dips his hand into the crack of Mr. Orange's ass, he caress the younger's hole and find it already slicked with lube and ready. "Fuck!" He groans, realizing that his partner already prepared to get fucked by him. He latch his mouth to the other nipple while inserting his two fingers inside his partner's hole.

Mr. Orange screams when he feels the thick fingers prob his hole and his other nipple is sucked so hard. The stimulations are unbearable, and then the orgasm hits him hard, his semen spurted across the older's trousers, shirts and suit. White slicks paint the dark layer of Mr. White's suit.

Mr. White is still fingering him and sucking his nipple through his orgasm. The feeling is so intense, he still spurts his seeds for a few seconds and the painful tears rolling down from his eyes.

"Nnnghh... Larry, I'm... Aaah..." Mr. Orange is babbling now, incoherent, the intense orgasm and pleasure fogged his brain. He opens his eyes and then looks down to Mr. White. Big green eyes are shinning so brightly with tears.

Mr. White is still fingering the younger man. Mr. Orange, after regaining his coherent mind, starting fuck himself onto Mr. White's fingers. He is kissing Mr. White now, with soft chaste touch. Humming in delight, still feeling high after the intense orgasm. Mr. White's left hand caresses the younger's cheek lovingly, brushed the tears trailing there.

"Please fuck me." Mr. Orange murmurs against Mr. White's lip. "I'll be so good, Larry." He trails kisses along the man's jaw. "I will always be so good for you. Only for you, Larry."

The older man growls and then suddenly lifts the younger one, carried the smaller naked body towards the working table, and sprawls him onto it. He pulls the black panty from the younger's hip, and left it hanging on Mr. Orange's right ankle. He latches his mouth again into brutal kiss. Mr. Orange can only moans into the kiss.

"Only for me." Mr. White says between kisses. "You're mine, and you'll be good for me." He kisses the swollen lips once again before moving back and kneeling in front of the table. He spreads the younger's tight, revealing the pink puckered slicked hole. He is admiring the twitched hole, before dipping his head and licking it.

Mr. Orange moans, his body trembles and shakes. Mr. White keeps licking the slick hole, tasting the cherry flavored lube. He sucks the rim, and the then dipping his tongue inside the hole, fucks the tight ring with his tongue.

Mr. Orange is trashing, blabbering. Mr. White keeps rimming Mr. Orange's hole, he likes it, the sounds coming from his partner, the sweat musk and lube scent mixed together, and the twitching flesh. He rims like kissing, sucking, licking and bitting, put all his attention to the slicked hole.

After he is satisfied with the rimming, Mr. White gives the last lick and soft kiss to the hole and stand up. The sight in front of him takes his breath. Mr. Orange looks debauched, the crimson blush spreads from his youthful face down to his chest, his eyes are heavy with lust and pleasure, tears streaking down his cheeks, and those bright green eyes are glistening so prettily. His body is covered with so many red love bites, and his nipples are very red and glisten with Mr. White's saliva. His mouth is so red and swollen, a trail of saliva tracking down from his mouth to his chin. His hair is mussed, a few strands of strawberry blond hair are on his face. His chest move up and down so fast from the ragged breath. He looks really fuckable, and Mr. White almost come just from seeing the sight of his beautiful partner.

Mr. White unbuckle his pants, he is trying so hard to keep calm so he doesn't come right now. He is so hard he can burst any minute.

"Hey, baby." Mr. White says softly, he caresses his partner's wet cheek, their noses are touched. "I'm going to fuck you now." Mr. White positions his cock in front of Mr. Orange's hole and rubs the head on the hole. Mr. Orange's breath is hitched with the anticipation. He closes his eyes.

"Yeah, Larry. Please, please take me."

And then Mr. White slams his cock inside. He is still caressing Mr. Orange's face lovingly, but his other hand grips the younger's hip tightly, prevent him from moving too much.

Mr. Orange's legs crossed behind Mr. White's back, and he lifts his hip so the older man can fuck his hole deeper.

"You're so good, baby. So tight for me." Mr. White thrusts hard and fast, trying to get deeper and deeper. Mr. Orange is now crying in pleasure, the fat cock rubs inside him, and the head hits his pleasure spots so many times. His hands grip so tightly on Mr. White hair and neck. Mouth opens in chocked whimpering and moans.

"I'm gonna breed you sweetheart. I'm gonna dump my cum so much inside you until you're leaking, and then you will wearing that black panty of yours again, soak it with my cum coming from your ass." The older man murmurs the dirty words against Mr. Orange's lip. Mr. Orange can barely talk, he just whimpering.

"You want my cum inside your tight sweet hole?" Mr. White thrusts faster and harder. His orgasm is starting to building. " You want my lots of cum pumped into your flat stomach, making it round, so you look like pregnant?" He slams very hard into Mr. Orange, the younger man screams. "Answer me, baby." He says softly, despites his brutal hard thrusts.

"Aah... Ye...yes.... Ahhh.... Larry..... Yes, please.... I want your cum..... I want your cum inside me.... Ahhhh...." Mr. Orange answers with so much effort between his gasps, his second orgasm also building, his cock is trapped and rubbed over Mr. White's shirt. His prostat is brutalized hit repeatedly by the older's cock.

"I want.... Ahh.... Please impregnate me.... Put your baby inside me.... Larry. I want your baby." And at the last sentences, Mr. White comes so hard. His cum spurts so much and coated the inside of Mr. Orange's hole, marking him. He groans against Mr. Orange's neck.

The feel of wet warm spurt inside him, makes Mr. Orange reaches his peak also. He comes without being touched. His semen coated Mr. White shirt and his own belly. His body is trembling. He tries to catch his breath while enjoying the warm buzz of afterglow. His shaking hand brushes Mr. White's hair, who is sprawled on him, also trying catch his breath.

"Goddamn." Mr. Orange chuckles and smiles. He can feel the man above him trail soft kisses along his neck.

Mr. White gets up and leans his weight on his elbow so he can look the younger man under him. He grins and caress the sweat damp hair of his partner lovingly. "My baby, huh?"

Mr. Orange laughs softly. "I don't know you can talk dirty like that."

"I don't know you can play dirty like this." Mr. White says while tugging the black panty which still hanging losely on Mr. Orange's ankle.

Mr. Orange laughs again and lifts his head a bit to reach his partner's lip and kissing him softly.

(Anonymous) 2012-09-28 07:06 pm (UTC)(link)
White/Orange AU - White's the undercover cop, Freddy's the criminal.

(Anonymous) 2012-09-28 11:34 pm (UTC)(link)
I love the simplicity of this prompt. You could also take it to another level and switch their ages as well, so Freddy is Tim Roth's actual age, and Larry is in his 20s (think Harvey Keitel in "Mean Streets"). Now THAT would be an interesting power dynamic change to explore on multiple levels...

Someone please write this!

(no subject)

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"Junkyard Hounds" ( 7a / ... )

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Blonde/Eddie: rough sex

(Anonymous) 2012-09-28 08:33 pm (UTC)(link)
This is their understanding: whoever wins gets to be on top.

TW: racial slurs (and violence as per request)

(Anonymous) 2012-10-06 07:45 pm (UTC)(link)
"What're you going to do now?" His breath is so heavily scented with his last smoke it may as well directly be second hand. Eddie would care about it more if his face wasn't pressed to the plaster of the hall. The open air halls of the Super 8 really feel rough. Then again, he never had his cheek pressed into it. "Daddy can't moderate."

Joe wasn't even there.

"Fuck you." That was something that the younger Cabot could say confidently. Hey. Might just happen at this right. Eddie twists and then grips on Vic's thicker forearm. If the move were more fluid it would be like that hold cops put on you, the one that makes your arm sting. "Calm down, buddy boy. Your case of blue balls are gonna make you pass out."

All of the same bullshit banter like they had before he went to jail, and before they graduated high school. They were different boys then. Edward was slimmer and Victor got more...something. It was hard to say exactly what sort of change was going on behind those baby blues. Still waters run deep. Then again they were almost always still. Vic was too fucking cool. At an early point in their friendship, Eddie hoped some would rub off on him since they rubbed other things.

"Stop thinking of my dick." Jail house scuffles helped hone Mr. Vega's ability to wriggle free. No more Mr. Nice Guy Vic. He gets behind Eddie again and grabs him by the hair, his arm folds so easily under the other man's chin. "Now that you mention it though," he pauses and gives a short laugh, "fucking isn't a bad idea."

It's like all those afternoons watching scrambled porn. Back then hands were kept to yourself unless asked. Queers asked. Niggers take what they want. That was the logic anyway. Somewhere along the line they decided they were neither queer or niggers. Eddie and Vic just did what they wanted. And sometimes what they wanted to do was hurt one another.

That arm feels like the coils of a python. "You're gonna choke me." Like it or not, Eddie has to cough. Vic lets off but only after dealing a heavy push. Eddie's solid enough to not tumble. He dusts off his oxblood blazer. "Thanks for nothing you piece of shit. I'm not buying you dinner again. No wallet or not."

The same as always Vic sniffs and rubs the side of his nose. With his hand at that level it only half hides his smile. Nothing friendly. Sharks have smile all the time. "What do you say we have a round two. Whoever wins...wins."

Blue balls might be contagious. They shouldn't play so rough. Not in public. Eddie pops his collar and takes a few deep breaths. Wasn't it already round two? "Whoever wins," he agrees. Toothpick Vic keeps on smiling. Even when he's coming forward. The game is on much sooner than anticipated. "Shit! We're in the goddamn hallway!"

Just like a fucking little kid, bitching and moaning to get his way.Vic's eyebrows raise. Looks like he'll have to be more forceful than that to get this piggy to quit squealing. His mitts are on Eddie again. Why did he even bother giving him the option? After all, they're won't be a loser. Everyone is getting fucked. More scuffling, scraping. Since they only stepped out for a smoke--nonsmoking were all that was left--so the door is open. Blonde drags in Eddie. Weight makes it more of a challenge. Except that means he's got more cushion for the pushin'.

"Motherfucker!" Eddie tries to grab at Vic's knees. But that makes him so easy to push onto his back, onto the bed. All this horseplay makes for heavy breathing, sweating and getting up close. Real close. Again that smell of cigarettes is too potent. Vic breathes into the shell of Eddie's ear. They're sensitive. That's what everyone says. No bones. Only cartilege. Easy to bite. Like he does. Eddie yelps and almost knees the christened Mr. Blonde in the crotch. "Watch it will you? What the fuck are you trying to do? Draw blood?"

TW: racial slurs (and violence as per request) 2/?

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[RPF] Harvey Keitel/Tim Roth, rimming

(Anonymous) 2012-09-29 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
A late night rehearsal for the death scene leads to something more.

Re: [RPF] Harvey Keitel/Tim Roth, rimming

(Anonymous) 2012-09-29 05:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Holy shit, YES.

Someone please fill this!

Soooooooo seconded

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Pink/any, teaching him a lesson

(Anonymous) 2012-09-29 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
Not tipping is fucking rude. Pink needs to be taught a lesson in a way he'll goddamn remember.

Re: Pink/any, teaching him a lesson

(Anonymous) 2012-10-13 07:49 am (UTC)(link)
oh god yes

[Crossover] Orange/Sport [Taxi Driver], rentboy!Orange

(Anonymous) 2012-09-29 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
Orange works for himself until he meets Sport. Bonus for rough sex.

Re: [Crossover] Orange/Sport [Taxi Driver], rentboy!Orange

(Anonymous) 2012-09-29 02:27 am (UTC)(link)


White/Pink, Hatesex

(Anonymous) 2012-09-29 02:23 am (UTC)(link)
What it says on the tin.

[Crossover] White/any other Keitel role, selfcest

(Anonymous) 2012-09-29 02:55 am (UTC)(link)
Because you know he is fucking kinky as shit.

Re: [Crossover] White/any other Keitel role, selfcest

(Anonymous) 2012-09-30 10:47 pm (UTC)(link)


Any/Any, tattooing

(Anonymous) 2012-09-29 02:57 am (UTC)(link)
Getting off by tattooing or getting off being tattooed. Bonus for inspiration from "The Piano" or involving Blonde.

Re: Any/Any, tattooing

(Anonymous) 2012-10-01 02:58 pm (UTC)(link)
I think that "bonus for inspiration from 'The Piano'" should just become a general statement applicable to any prompt on this meme.

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Re: Any/Any, tattooing

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Orange/White, shaving kink

(Anonymous) 2012-09-29 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
White suggests a trust-building exercise, and he hands Orange a straight razor.

Re: Orange/White, shaving kink - FILL: "Cut My Throat" 1/10

(Anonymous) 2012-10-21 10:49 pm (UTC)(link)
"I need a shave," White says. He's got one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his chin. "Maybe a fresh shirt. You mind if we swing by my place?"

There's a sandpaper rasp of palm on stubble. Freddy looks out the passenger side window with studied nonchalance. He's got less than a second to unwrap the words. Was there something too careful in the way White said it? Is it some kind of test? Maybe White has him pegged for a nosy bastard who'll jump at the chance to find out where he lives. Maybe White's worried he's the kind of asshole who can't roll with it when someone promises him a burger and then drags him on a detour.

Maybe White just needs a shave.

"Whatever," Freddy says, still looking out the window. He stomps down the urge to glance over and see how his answer's gone down.

Be cool, he thinks. Don't sweat it. It was just a question.

Street signs and storefronts fall onto the map in his head. The sun's in his eyes, making him squint. He worries he looks too interested in where they're going, so he screws with the radio dial. A traffic report blips by, followed by a commercial for an auto body shop, and then the bridge of "Paradise City."

White smacks the back of his hand.

"Hey!" It's not like it hurt, but still.

White shoots him a hard-ass look that's obviously a put-on. "My car, my music. Put it back."

Freddy can't help but laugh. He dials back to the oldies station, where some falsetto doo-wop group is crooning about tears on their pillows.

There's a weird sense of deja vu as they turn down more familiar streets. They're maybe four blocks away from Freddy's apartment now, just around the corner from his bank and his laundromat and his favorite comic book shop. It fucks with his head to think that he and White could have bumped shoulders in the crowd outside a bar, or browsed over the same frozen dinners at the grocery store. The idea doesn't sit right, like they somehow would have recognized each other. Bang, boom, sparks fly—aren't you the guy who's going to put me away?

So maybe it's a relief when they pull up to one of those by-the-week rentals for traveling salesmen and the kind of actors you sort of recognize but not really. It's not the Four Seasons, but it's not a shithole either. Concrete, two stories. There's a pool that Freddy probably wouldn't swim in, but there's nothing floating in it.

"Home, sweet home," White says as he guides Freddy through a dark, air-conditioned hallway with a hand between his shoulders. He unlocks the door to Room 6 and ushers Freddy inside. "Make yourself comfortable. You want a drink?"

The apartment's a small, bland bachelor. It doesn't feel particularly lived-in, but there's no luggage sitting out. Beige carpet, beige linoleum, beige walls. Freddy tries not to look too interested, and then tries not to look too uninterested. He flops down on the tan-colored couch and smiles up at White. "Nah, I'm good."


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Four LA County Sheriffs/Orange

(Anonymous) 2012-09-29 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
Group sex in the boys room. I don't care if it's the naughty elaborately made up chapter of his commode story or it actually happened in a slightly different way, ie. any LEO agency welcome.

FILL: Overactive Imagination (NC-17, group sex) part 1/2

(Anonymous) 2012-11-25 11:26 pm (UTC)(link)
(Hi OP, I changed things just a little bit from your prompt, hope you don't mind!)

The kid gestured, expression animated, completely lost in the retelling of his story. Larry listened distantly, brain filtering the crucial details, jettisoning the rest. His attention was focused on the jutting angle of his hip, the flat lines of his stomach beneath his tight black shirt, the way his hair fell into his heavy-lidded eyes.

It was like some kind of cruel, cosmic joke. The personification of his deepest, most secret sexual fantasies had traipsed through the front door of the bar about a half an hour earlier and he'd been half-hard since. Everything about the kid; the way he moved, the timbre of his voice, even the way he held his cigarette as he spoke. Larry laughed in all the right places, and tried not to look at him for too long, shifting his attention to Joe or one of the others in their group. He was seasoned at knowing how to hide his attraction to another man.

When the kid got the the part about the LA county sheriffs in the train station bathroom, Larry had just about choked on his beer. He'd seen countless skin flicks that started the same way and almost always ended in a desperate, filthy gang bang. He was on autopilot, cigarette hanging precariously from his lips, eyes glazed over. His vision narrowed down to the kid and the clothes on his back. The bar melted away behind him, replaced with the imagined interior of the bathroom.

Larry didn't put much thought into the details beyond the white-tiled floors and wide, arching walls. His subconscious wanted plenty of room for things to go down. The sheriffs wore the typical garb; long pants, holsters, khaki shirts. He didn't fully form their faces other than nondescript, square-jawed, white. They circled the kid like vultures, their dog barking furiously. One of them had the presence-of-mind to tie the beast up, looping its leash around the leg of a stall.

Then they descended upon their prey; one clasped him from behind, taking his mouth in a searing kiss as the rest began to remove his clothes. First the leather jacket, then the shirt. The kid shivered as his skin hit air, nipples peaking as they assaulted the pale line of his neck. Another sheriff knelt, hooking large fingers in his belt loops and tugging down. He was perfect; the sharp, downward curve of his abdominal obliques sloping to cradle the thatch of ginger pubic hair and an exquisite cock. Long, with a head like a plump red cherry, exactly the type that Larry loved to take his sweet time sucking on. He shifted in his seat to accommodate the pressure against the inner seam of his pant leg as the scene played like a technicolor daguerreotype in his mind's eye.

The kid's head lolled back, eyes fluttering in near-ecstasy as each latched on to a different part of him; the soft, fleshy inner juncture of his elbow, the taut muscle skirting his jugular, the slight swell of his pectoral. They bent him back, his cock rising with the push of his pelvis. A mouth took him, sucking him down the exact way Larry would, head bobbing quick and rough, saliva pooling in his pubic hair. They worked him up until the entire surface of his blush-mottled skin glistened with sweat. He was mewling, panting, barely audible, spittle moistening his bottom lip as it fell open with pleasure.

"Fuck me," he begged, voice rough with need.

They obliged without saying a word, moving like automatons, all of them marionettes held in the grasp of Larry's subconscious. He choreographed quickly. The kid was turned over, placed stomach-down over the thighs of two sheriffs bent on one knee, facing each other. The men still standing ran fingers over his arched back, down the pale striations of his thighs, driving him wild with sensory indulgence as the one who had been sucking his cock dipped a gentle finger between his cheeks. With a choked moan the kid squirmed, undulating his thighs to follow the finger as it pulled away. A pair of hands spread him wide, a wad of spit landed right on top of his perfect, pink hole. The sheriff wasted no time in filling him up, two-knuckles deep, the kid pinned and writhing with each swift push inside him.


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TW: Blonde/Pink, dub-con, Knife or Gunplay

(Anonymous) 2012-09-29 11:10 pm (UTC)(link)
I can see it pretty clearly: Blonde holding Pink under his thumb (in a manner of speaking) while Blonde takes what he wants from Pink. Pink enjoys it, but stutters and trips over the words when prompted to admit it aloud - he wouldn't admit it to himself, but then again there's this [gun/razor] against his skin...

Re: TW: Blonde/Pink, dub-con, Knife or Gunplay

(Anonymous) 2012-10-10 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
YES!!! There's such an interesting dynamic between them that's just asking to be explored.


Orange/White: daddy kink AU

(Anonymous) 2012-09-30 08:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Freddy's eighteen. He's awkward, brooding and spends hours watching shoot-em-ups and reading comic books. His mom's on her own, so they move around a lot; he's at a new highschool every year, so he doesn't make a lot of friends.

Freddy knows his mom has been seeing someone new because she's been smiling more lately. He's not a kid anymore, so she can stay out late all she wants and he won't get into any trouble. Something tells him this new guy's okay; she talks about how gentle he is, how he treats a woman right and makes her feel safe. He knows it's serious when she brings the guy home for dinner.

Larry's got broad shoulders and strong arms that he shows off in white cotton t-shirts. He's got a baddass trick he does with his zippo lighter. He knows all of John Wayne's and Clint Eastwood's movies. He's super fucking cool and Freddy might be a little bit in love with him. And the way Larry looks at him makes Freddy feel guilty about how much it would hurt his mom.


Re: Orange/White: daddy kink AU

(Anonymous) 2012-09-30 08:58 pm (UTC)(link)

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White/Orange - Fairytales

(Anonymous) 2012-09-30 09:54 pm (UTC)(link)
I want to know what tough-guy fairytales White and Orange tell each other before the big day. Lying in each other's arms, sweaty and out of breath, only the sound of traffic filtering in through the open windows... what do they say to each other? What dreams and desires do they share after they make off with the diamonds? What does Larry say that makes Freddy fall for him? That makes him falter and forget, if only for a second, that he's a rat fuck who is going to take this whole thing down, shatter everyone's lives come sun-up? What does Freddy say to Larry to let Larry know Freddy belongs to him?

A moment, a series of vignettes, I don't really care, as long as it's in character.

What can I say? I'm aching for some dialogue. Tarantino-esque pillow talk, motherfuckers, that's what I want.

Re: White/Orange - Fairytales, I hope this is what you wanted 1/?

(Anonymous) 2012-10-05 10:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Report Log

Meeting with J. Cabot, E. Cabot. "Mr. White" unknown. Task: request books from MPD, WI corrections. Forward to McClusky.


"I'm a Dodgers fan," Freddy puffs his smoke proudly.

Larry's face scrunches up like a man who thought better of his company.

"What," Freddy laughs, "come on Davis is on second and gimpy Gibson's up at bat." He waves his cigarette in an arc. "Boom. Backdoor slider right over the fence and don't get me started on the World Series."

"That was four fuckin' years ago," the older man shrugs a broad shoulder and sips his liquor.

For a second Freddy looks defeated.

"It's cool, kid, nobody's perfect," Larry winks.

It's the first night they've ever met and Freddy's already fucking smitten. He just doesn't know it yet.

Re: White/Orange - Fairytales, 2/?

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White/Orange, let's talk about sex

(Anonymous) 2012-09-30 10:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Freddy awkwardly negotiating what he wants to do and have done to him, while simultaneously trying to keep up his persona. Bonus points if his previous sexual experiences with men he's gone into with a lot of enthusiasm and with terrible communication that leads to a lot of uncomfortable sex and now he's with someone who's actually invested in him enjoying himself and having a good time and how does a super-cool hardened criminal go about saying that no, really, he'd just like to suck your dick, if that's all right by you?

Re: White/Orange, let's talk about sex FILL 1/3

(Anonymous) 2012-10-11 12:42 am (UTC)(link)
"You’ve been looking at me all night, kid,” White said.

The table was littered with empty bottles, glasses full of melting ice, chewed up straws and abandoned cigarette packs. White was finishing his beer. He took a long drink, then another, then put the empty glass down.

“What?” Orange asked, looking down at his hands as he quietly shredded a bottle label. He shrugged his shoulders vaguely, like he didn’t have a clue what White was talking about. It was a pretty good act and very nearly convincing.

“You’ve been looking at me all night like you think it’s gonna get you laid.” White pulled himself out of chair, stubbed out his cigarette and took out his wallet. “But it’s not.”

“It’s not?”

“Nope,” White said. He took some bills out the wallet and tossed them on the table. “Not with me.” He looked up and smiled, putting the wallet back into his pocket. “With me you need to ask for it.”

He turned, ready to leave, and as he passed the chair he leaned in close and spoke softly in Freddy’s ear in a tone and timbre that made Freddy squirm. “You just need to ask,” White said.

Freddy went after him half a minute later. He found White at his car, key in the lock, and came running up to him. “Wait,” he said. “White, hang on a minute.” He put his hands in the pockets of his coat and took a deep breath.

White looked at him warily, like he suspected Freddy was entirely full of shit. He turned the key in the lock and opened the door. “I’m going home. Did you wanna come with me?”

Freddy suppressed the urge to twist his fists in the pockets of his coat. He shrugged again, in that very nearly convincing sort of way. “Like for a drink?” he asked.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Shit, man, it’s not like I got anything better to do.”

They drove in silence, the radio off, White smoking a cigarette and Freddy considering all the possible implications of the phrase, “super cool.”

White’s place was just as empty as Freddy’s, but somehow the crummy lighting and bare walls felt less like a shitty dorm room and more like monk’s cell. There was a small desk, a threadbare couch and an ancient television. The hallway to his left was dark. When White went into the kitchen on the other side, Freddy opened the middle drawer of the desk. It was empty. He opened the top drawer. In it was a gun. He closed both drawers, turned, and took the cold beer out of White’s hand.

“Here,” White said briskly. “If that’s what you want, drink your drink and get out.”

“What?” Freddy asked, flinching a little when he broke character.

White grabbed the desk chair, dragged it across the room directly opposite Freddy and then sat in it. He kicked his feet out and crossed his arms over his chest. “I said, if that’s what you want, drink your drink and get out.”

Orange scoffed, shaking his head for the imaginary audience. “Fucking power trip, man,” he said to no one.

“No,” White said. “I just don’t want to guess at what you want. You told me you wanted a drink, so I got you a drink. If that’s all you wanted, then I guess I’ll hit the sack.” He brought his feet back and put his hands on his knees as though to rise.

“Wait,” Freddy said.

White sat back again. He smiled. The beer was sweating under Freddy’s hand, getting difficult to hold onto. Freddy looked at the floor, midway between White and himself. “I did want more than a drink,” he muttered.

“Well, I don’t bake pies and I’m not much good at pinochle, so I’m afraid our options are pretty fucking limited.”

Freddy frowned and opened the beer, tossing the bottle cap into the trashcan with a loud clang. He took a drink and looked at White like he was something that needed to be puzzled out. The beer caught against the emotion in his throat and made it feel worse. White shook his head and smiled softly and comfortingly, in a way that washed over Freddy and tugged at his gut. “Just ask, kid,” White said. “That’s all you have to do.”

Freddy half turned, looking at the door, then looked back.

“Tell me what you want,” White said.

Re: White/Orange, let's talk about sex FILL 1/3

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(tw: torture/dubcon) Blonde/Brown

(Anonymous) 2012-09-30 10:53 pm (UTC)(link)
(God, sorry for the repeated anonfail! That one wasn't even finished.)

Mr. Blonde gets off on fucking him up, and it's almost less fun when the smug-faced fuck likes it.

Re: (tw: torture/dubcon) Blonde/Brown

(Anonymous) 2012-09-30 11:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Gold star for playing the QT = smug fuck card.

Re: (tw: torture/dubcon) Blonde/Brown

(Anonymous) - 2012-10-09 10:43 (UTC) - Expand

Re: (tw: torture/dubcon) Blonde/Brown

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White/Orange - Dirtytalk

(Anonymous) 2012-09-30 11:19 pm (UTC)(link)
I want Freddy backed up against some brick wall, and Larry muttering filth into his ear. I want raw fucking with the only sounds other than skin-slapping-skin and moans to be Larry's voice.

TW: Blonde/Orange - breathplay/asphyxiation, dubcon

(Anonymous) 2012-09-30 11:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Vic loves watching his hand squeeze this kid's throat as he fucks into him. The look on his face is fucking priceless. Shock, confusion, pain. And desperation. Not for him to stop, no... but for more.

Orange/White: Orange 1st person POV letter [major character death, angst]

(Anonymous) 2012-10-01 05:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Holdaway got the shitty job of overseeing the clean up of one deceased Detective Newendyke's apartment. He scours the place for clues; anything that would tie up loose ends in the case or tell them what the fuck went wrong.

Then he finds it; hidden away where no one else would find it. A big envelope with his name scrawled on it in Freddy's handwriting. He opens it up; there's a smaller, sealed envelope inside and a note:


If the worst happens and I don't make it out of this one, please give this envelope to Larry Dimick. I'm guessing (hoping) he's in custody right now, probably screaming at the walls and refusing to co-operate. If he reads this, it might simmer him down a bit. Or it might make things worse. I dunno. I wish I knew. It would have made this whole thing easier. If he didn't make it either... please burn it. This is all I'm ever going ask of you. The last wish of a dead man.

- Freddy

Holdaway pockets the sealed envelope and doesn't book it with evidence. Instead, he lets curiosity get the better of him; he reads it.

Please, write me an angst-ridden, soul-crushing, heart-rending love letter written by Freddy, which Larry never gets the chance to see.

Re: Orange/White: Orange 1st person POV letter [major character death, angst]

(Anonymous) 2012-10-02 12:22 pm (UTC)(link)


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Blonde/Orange domination kink

(Anonymous) 2012-10-02 08:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Blonde may be crazy, but that doesn't stop him from being observant. He mistakes Orange's detective-scrutiny for something like a crush, and Orange is just too relieved that his cover has not yet been blown. So Orange is backed into 'admitting' to having a crush on Blonde. Yes. Whatever. Sure.

Except Blonde is more than okay with throwing Orange a bone, and dominates the hell out of him in bed (mistaking Orange's 'UGH DO NOT WANT BUT CAN'T BACK OUT NOW' boned-fish approach for submission). The twist; Orange actually does kinda get off on Blonde's dirty encouragement. Maybe. Whatever.

Re: Blonde/Orange domination kink

(Anonymous) 2012-12-09 05:59 am (UTC)(link)
holy shit this is everything i never knew i wanted


Re: Blonde/Orange domination kink

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Re: Blonde/Orange domination kink

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Re: Blonde/Orange domination kink

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Brown/any, dirty talk

(Anonymous) 2012-10-03 02:26 am (UTC)(link)
Babbling on and on during sex. Bonus for gagging or hands over mouth.

(Anonymous) 2012-10-08 07:11 pm (UTC)(link)
This might be different than what you had in mind. ><;;;

TW for demeaning to women and homophobic


"I really got to thinking about what you said, I mean it stuck with me. Now, I respect you and all that bullshit but you don't know the virtues of a perfect tit."

A minute and a half into the phone call and Pink knows that he will never, ever at any circumstance swap phone numbers prior to speaking with a partner in the future. His steak is thawing on the counter and he was close to heading to the john. Brown keeps on yammering in his ear.

"Now, white chicks. Can't beat em and all but--"

"Brown. I'm hanging up right now. We're meeting tomorrow." Because Mr. Pink would really, really like to think of titties all by himself. "Why don't you play Donkey Kong or whatever the fuck you do."

"Hey. Hey. I'm reaching out to you man. Ignorance is killing America. And for the record, it's Lemmings. You're not listening. Y'should get your ears checked."


"As I was saying, Tits. White chicks get those pink nipples, and it's a great sight with contrasting color in real life or in cinema. No matter the color though they work the same. I had this Filipino gal and fuck, she was hot. Fucking perfect size breasts, if they could have been replicated and put into a bucket the Colonel would quadruple the spending."

Pink gives an exasperated sigh. One because he is still talking to Brown longer than he wanted to and two because he's already getting a hard on. "That's--that's fucking great. Good on you. Now--"

"Anyway, size is great you can fuckin' hold em and squeeze em. When they fit in your hand and are still big enough to sort of sway as you grind up on her, that's when it matters. Everybody thinks that the Black women have all the parts, well if you're picky enough you'll find just what you want in any make. Gotta find the model you know? A lot of the time the bitches don't know what they got. They'll let you do just about anything. Twist em, slap em, grease up your dick and fuck them." Brown chuckles a little on the phone and clears his throat.

...Is he breathing heavy?

"Sure." Mr. Pink would love to say he's not listening anymore but he is. Fuck. Now he's leaning up on the bed of his motel room. Always answer calls out of sight in case someone's watching. That's a rule he made up for himself. Fucking professionals gotta keep a clear head. Except he never thought out what would happen in a scenario like this. He has to check twice to be sure that he's honestly hard from this. Yep. No joke. "Okay, Brown. Thanks for-" Being the biggest skeeve he's talked to in quite some time? Getting him started before that magazine he got with his cigarettes? Pink undoes his belt, then his jeans. Immediately after hanging up he's gonna whack off.

"Not finished yet!" That comes out a little too fast. He swallows and then resumes. "I like titty fucking. No shit right?" Brown breathlessly laughs. "Except that is second fiddle to the all mighty cunt. Pussy is always the same shade." Pink, hilariously enough. He doesn't say it though. "A blind man doesn't need to be scoping out and trying to match it to wallpaper, you know? When it's tight and wet, that's all that matters. Ain't it great when she's so fucking small it don't matter what size your dick is, it still is a fucking trip to fit it in?"


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Orange/White, how it started

(Anonymous) 2012-10-03 02:28 am (UTC)(link)
White pressed his knee against Orange's under the table at the restaurant. Orange could barely breathe. Orange is hyperaware of White. The way he smells, the rumble of his voice...

Orange/White - Accidentally On Purpose 1/2

(Anonymous) 2012-11-04 01:14 am (UTC)(link)
It's an accident. It's gotta be.

Here's what it's like; it's like bumping your elbow on some cute stranger's tit in a crowded subway. You don't mean to do it, you're perfectly mortified, but your elbow is thanking you. Or else it's like going to cross your legs under the lunch table and finding you've hooked an ankle over someone else -- a friend, maybe. And they just leave it there, and they just keep talking, and it's up to you to decide whether or not to withdraw.

It's comfortable and it's extremely awkward at the same time, is what this is.

It's nothing like yawning and reaching over to get your arm around your girl, no, 'cos that's not accidental at all. White is way too cool for shit like that anyway. If he wanted to cop a feel he'd probably just say so.

Orange thinks that might be his gentlemanly M.O., at least. Orange thinks a lot of things.

What Orange does not think, however, is that White is doing any of this consciously. He probably doesn't even know what kind of affect it can have on a guy like Orange, when one ankle has strayed under the other as they readjust to all fit around that bar table. When the warm press of his thigh betrays the hard muscle of a man who used his legs to actually take him places.

Orange sucks his cigarette down the wrong way when Brown cracks a particularly ribald joke about the Mayor of LA. Freddy knew the Mayor, for chrissakes.

White, like it's the most natural thing in the world, reaches over to pat the center of Orange's back until he stops coughing. Slap, slap, heavy palm on dull black leather. He's not even paying attention while he does this, talking up at the waitress for a coffee to follow this last round of beers. When the waitress leaves, White settles his hand where it landed, bracing Orange like someone might steady their dog on the furniture.

Orange leans back, nodding at Pink's half-hearted concern. White's elbow props back against the booth, fist curled at Orange's back. With each word of the argument with Joe, White's fist gives a small tap forward, a little punch. Rough and playful like Orange is just some kid brother.

Carefully swallowing his beer, Orange glances over at White. He's sprawled back, relaxed, in serious violation of Orange's personal space. Not like that was anything, though, hell they were all squashed together to keep their voices down and their faces out of the public eye.

Or maybe it was just the nature of the crook to be drunk and friendly. Freddy wasn't going to count it as a loss, if they so easily accepted him into the ranks.

And, you know. It's all just an accident, anyway.

A matter of circumstance. An unfortunate coincidence.

White, see, White is the kind of guy Freddy might go for, if he ever had any time to browse LA's roaring gay scene. White is a little bit older than what usually drew Freddy's eye, but the man more than made up for that with conversational charm. He was an open book, easy-going and dry with the humor. It was a shame, too, because Freddy went to school for profiling, for fuck's sake; it didn't take all of his psychological prowess to understand this guy was flying the same damn flag as him, but, you know. A damn shame.

Because it's like this, see, it's like walking into a room and knowing the cologne in the air. Orange can pick out the aftershave behind the cigarillo smoke, and a layer under that there's fresh-ironed cotton and heat and salt and musk. The smoke and the booze can't hide it. Orange's jacket hardly hides his body's response, when the sweat of him loses the tang of anxiety and pulls up with the fragrant leather to go neck-and-neck for fuck-me vibes.

They're all sweating, sure, red in the nose with drink and laughing and opening collars in the hot press of an LA dive.

Orange/White - Accidentally On Purpose 2/2

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Group, suit kink

(Anonymous) 2012-10-03 02:32 am (UTC)(link)
Circle jerk in their suits.

Re: Group, suit kink, 1/? I tried

(Anonymous) 2012-10-04 09:27 am (UTC)(link)
"Your face is gonna freeze up if you keep staring like that."

Eddie looks around the empty mensroom before looking back at Blonde.

"Does this look like grade school to you? Anyway I've seen it way too many fuckin' times to give a shit. It ain't that big," Eddie shakes his head, giving a casual roll of his eyes too.

Blonde arches a brow. He gives his own little shake at the urinal but doesn't pull his zip up, leaving his cock hanging out from his pressed dress pants.

"Ain't that big's still bigger than," Blonde gestures the length of a couple inches with his fingers as a cool shit-eating smile spreads across his face.

"Hey fuck you, I leave cooch fucking limping. I ride it hard and put it away wet," Eddie points outs and pointedly tries to ignore Blonde showing off, "is it my fault you don't have the fucking balls to take a picture?" He frames his own crotch with both hands.

"You talk a lot, Eddie, but you don't have much action," Blonde replies, unfazed.

"I get plenty of action, asshole. You think it's all about daddy's money but after I get in there, they see the fucking light. They want another--"

Blonde wraps a hand tight around Eddie's wrist, the other taking a firm grip on his shoulder. "Ain't what I meant, sweet cheeks."

Oh shit, Eddie's face lights up fucking red, bringing out the fullness of his face and his curls. It makes Blonde grin because for all its redness it's a greenlight to pin his back to the wall. Eddie knows what he means, it's not even the first time he's ever called him 'sweet cheeks', and he's been dying to touch Vic Vega ever since he got back from prison. Bless daddy for giving the guy a cover and a big job so soon, but damnit for not giving them enough time to catch up. He fucking missed Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome. He looks even better in his suit because Eddie knows underneath all that polish is a bowling shirt and cowboy boots. Vic cleans up well, you'd never know he'd ever done any time taking it up the ass. Eddie doesn't dare say this to his face, he's saving it for when he wants Vic to wreck the fuck out of his hole which is pretty soon at this rate.

"Start whacking," Blonde instructs, guiding Eddie's hand over his shaft.

"I know how to do it, motherfucker," Eddie grunts as he starts pulling on his own dick. Slow and firm at first. Just having Blonde's cigarette breath ghosting against his throat gets him hard.

Blonde smiles. "Good. That's real good, Eddie." The other man responds to his praise by lifting his hips up then back, fucking his own fist as much as he's jerking off. The motion gets a low rumbling laugh from Blonde as he starts undoing his thin black tie. Eddie hasn't changed a bit. "You know what I'm going to do to you now?" He asks, nonchalant as ever.

"I'm not gonna--gonna play fuckin' guessing games with you, V--"

Right away that tie goes around Eddie's head, in his mouth, twice. Blonde knots it firmly. "Don't wreck it. It's on Joseph's bill," he warns and it's hard to tell if the guy is being serious or a patronizing jerk. Could be both. He runs his fingers through Eddie's thick hair, affectionately first, then he pulls on it to send them both straight for the handicap stall. Bigger men need bigger space, it is what it is. It takes only one hard push to send the door flying open.

Re: Group, suit kink, 2/?

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Re: Group, suit kink, 3/?

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Re: Group, suit kink, 4/5

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Re: Group, suit kink, 1/? I tried

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