#about halfway through i stopped liking the idea of this post but posting anyways because i spent a few hours on it🤷‍♀️

[prrcyjacksons]

THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY 2.01 — “Love Lost”

[buckleydiazmp4]

do you mind if i ramble in the tags about my weird relationship with making art in fandom for a second

[modelbus]

why do requests when I can post the most random things in existence?

Pairing: CEO!Simon Ghost Riley x Gn!Reader

Workplace Hazards

"I'm resigning."

The jerk of a head, and dark eyes meet your light ones. 

There should be books written on the way those dark eyes narrow at you, daring you to contradict his next words. Knowing you will. But nobody else understands these patterns, these games, quite the same way you do.

You suppose that makes you the would-be author of the books.

"No you aren't." His voice is solid, leaving no room for arguing.

You find room anyways.

"Yes, I am."

I'm the absence of an immediate response, your eyes dip to his desk. You walked into this office with one plan in mind, and you’ll be damned if it's ruined because he's easy on the eyes.

His wooden desk, as usual, is neatly organized. A stack of perfectly crisp papers sit under an elegant pen, right next to the keyboard connected to his computer. Your eyes carefully avoid looking at the placard sat on his desk.

You knows what it says anyways. The same thing is on his door that you barged through just minutes before.

Simon Riley - CEO

Finally, your eyes flick back to him.

"And why the fuck,” he says, voice carefully measured, "would that be?"

"You know why."

Simon’s—Mr. Riley’s—jaw clenches, a muscle ticking. 

When you were hired into this office, nearly everyone had warned you that this very man was, simply put, an asshole. And he was. 

He yelled at workers, he refused to budge. There were days where his glare was so strong you were terrified that standing in his sight for too long would kill you.

But it didn't. Not when his eyes softened, not when his voice became gentler than you ever knew possible.

"Humor me." It's a demand more so than a request from him.

You sigh. “Just let me resign. Let me quit."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

You have to swallow to stop yourself from repeating your earlier response. He knows why. You both know it better than the backs of your own hands. 

Simon raises an eyebrow, motioning for you to speak with a pissed expression. You don’t.

He runs a slow and deliberate hand through the carefully messy blond hair on top of his head, making you glance away. This felt like a slap in the face to you, to everything you were trying to do.

"I'm not letting you resign." Simon says slowly. “You’re not resigning.”

"I'm not asking you to let me." You immediately respond.

It's his turn to look away this time. Almost instinctively your eyes fall down to the slope of his neck, past the scars, further to the silver chain necklace.

Your lips, pressed to the soft skin of his neck. He was all you could taste, all you could smell. He was going to kill you, just like this. Suffocate you with everything he was.

If his hands didn't get you first, that was.

"If this is over the other night, I can assure you-"

"It's not." You say stiffly. "Well, not entirely."

The other night, when every last wall between you two came down.

Simon Riley was an enigma at best, and the world's biggest dickhead at worst. To everyone that wasn't you, that is.

Because somewhere along turning in reports and weekly check-ins, something shifted. Something that turned into walks home, idle chats, you knowing his childhood friends called him Ghost.

True surprise flashes over his face before it's gone again. Faintly, you wonder if anyone else would've caught that emotion. Another part of you mourns the idea that someday, someone else will.

"Then what is this about?" 

You take a deep breath. "The rumors."

"The... rumors?" He repeats, an edge of confusion overriding the control.

For a second, you pause, realizing your mistake. Of course he didn't listen to the office rumors. Idle gossip around here would never be his style, no matter what happened.

He didn't know the rumor going around.

"What rumors?" He repeats, and something's shifted in his voice now. Panic. He's panicking. Simon Riley never panics.

Simon pushes himself halfway to his feet before you manage to find your words again.

"The entire office thinks I'm sleeping with you for a promotion."

He collapses back down into his chair.

You’re left to stand, wondering if this is what the wreckage of a car crash looks like. Maybe it'd be easier if it was a real wreck. Not... this. Not whatever's been going on between you and him.

It's will-you and won't-he, a vice-like grip on your heart that you just can't seem to shake. It's the memory of his laugh, low and smooth, the first time you made him laugh. It's his goddamn lips against yours.

You think you might kneel over dead in his office.

"Ah." He says, missing his usual eloquence. "They're just rumors."

"Partly true rumors."

You meet his eyes, daring him to deny it. He doesn't.

From the second his hand landed on your waist that night, you both knew you were too fragile to forget what was going to happen. Going back was never an option.

"But the others don't know that. Just fucking ignore them."

You shake your head. "You don't get it. These rumors may not touch you, but for me—"

"If anyone's giving you shit over them, tell me." He's quick to speak, pure anger in his voice. He's pissed at the very idea. 

"You can't change 7.8 billion people, Si- Mr. Riley."

"Don't do that." Before you can even ask him to elaborate, he stands. "Don't step back like that, don't reduce me to Mr. Riley again."

This time, you have to fully turn away. How are you meant to quit him like this?

"The rumors can and will ruin my career." You tell the photos on the walls. They're of places, not people. Simon Riley doesn't do photos of people.

"No they won't."

"I've been working my ass off to show people that I've earned everything I've gotten. I'm not going to throw that away on- on-"

"On me."

You wish you didn't know him well enough to detect the undercurrent of hope. You wish a lot of things that can never happen. 

You wish you couldn't hear his footsteps rounding the desk. His presence behind you is like a force of nature, a gravitational pull you can't get rid of for the life of you.

"You promised you wouldn't run away from me."

It was a stupid promise to make to him. 

"My job comes first and you know it. It's the same way with you."

"At least give me the dignity of looking at me." His hand lands on your arm, tugging you around to see him. "I'll get HR off your back, so stop trying to quit."

"It's not HR!" You exclaim, frustration overtaking you. 

"Don't lie and tell me you suddenly give a damn what the others think." He glowers at you, eyebrows lowering as a frown tugs at his mouth. You frown right back at him.

"I do when it's my job on the line."

"Bullshit. They-" he makes a motion to his door, "-don't decide shit here. I do. And I'm not going to let you go."

"Actually, I decide what I do with my life, which is why I'm resigning." 

His expression drops, falling from anger straight into despair before he fixes it. Your heart leaps into your throat.

Simon still has his hand on your arm, and you’re all too aware of that. Every point of contact you have right now prickles with electricity.

"You're throwing away your job. This is the stupidest move I've ever seen you make, and you've done a lot of stupid shit."

"Actually," the words are flowing out of your mouth before you can stop them, "I think the stupidest move I've made was kissing you."

His hand drops from your arm like he's burned, like your words struck him as a physical blow. You regret them immediately, but it's too late.

"Simon, wait—"

"No." He shakes his hand, steps back, adjusts his tie. "If you regret it so much, you should've stopped a long time ago."

You stare helplessly up at him. "I know." You murmur. “I know."

After a long moment you clear your throat, holding out a pink paper. "My letter of resignation."

He takes it, glancing over it. 

For just a moment, you think he'll actually let you go. Let you walk away from him and this company like nothing ever happened between you two. Like you didn't see him and love everything he gave you.

And then he rips it in half, crumbles it, and tosses it out the window.

"Get back to work." He says roughly, turning away and walking the few steps back to his desk.

"I'll print another." You threaten uselessly.

"And I'll rip up another." He raises his eyebrows at you.

"I'll send twenty to your house."

"You show up at my house, darlin’."

You could kill him. Right now, with your bare hands, you’re so tempted to lunge.

This is dangerous.

This is what led you to the other night, the addictive rush they found existed between you two. You should step back. Try again later, maybe call a workers union or something.

But you won't, and he knows that better than anyone else.

"Why are you like this?" You exclaim. The cocky cover he hid under was infuriating.

Simon Riley was like a goddamn sink hole someone tried to cover up. You break through the first layer of assholeness to find another layer of cockiness.

And when you break through that one, there's nothing to stop you from falling.

"Why are you so insistent on making a stupid decision?" He snaps back. "We fucked. The office thinks they know. So what?"

"So it'll ruin me!"

"And it won't ruin me?" 

You scoff, rolling your eyes. your arms cross over your chest at the pure nerve has to say that.

"Please. You're the CEO, your job is—"

"I'm not talking about my job."

Your breath catches, and you’re suddenly aware of how hard you’re both breathing. Simon takes a rugged breath in, eyes on you.

"What do I have to do to get you to stay?"

You could have anything and everything. You know that if you asked in this moment, he'd offer everything.

It's power you never wanted.

His connections could get you meeting celebrities, and as the CEO he could promote you to places you never thought you’d get. His offer of bribery was too good for a person to pass up, even with the current rumor. 

But...

His eyes, normally so reserved, are soft. If eyes were truly windows to the soul, his windows were wide open.

"This isn't because I'm the CEO, right?" He murmurs into your hair, breath warm. 

"No. Not this."

You swallow, and shakes your head. "Nothing."

"Don't let this rumor ruin this."

"Ruin what?"

You tilt your head up, eyes locking onto his. You need this response more than you’ve ever needed anything before.

Because you woke up and left him. 

You didn't talk about what happened between you two. Not when you saw each other in the office, not when you sent him a cat meme and he sent you a dog meme. This thing between you didn't have a name, and you were shriveling up.

You watch him swallow, suddenly put on the spot to define what you are. 

And he can't.

So you turn away, moving to leave his office. What's the point of listening to him if he doesn't even know why you shouldn't leave? 

Simon moves quicker than you though, placing himself between you and his office door. 

"Si—"

"I want to take you to dinner." He says, and you stop talking. "I want you to get dressed up nice just for me, and I want to go on a date. On a thousand dates. And I want to kiss you during every one, take you home, and wake up next to you. I’m not built for it, love, but I fucking want it.”

More. 

He wants to be more.

He takes a step closer to you, and you don’t even try to move or step back.

"I'm the CEO." He breathes, tilting your chin up. "I get everything I want, except you, and it's driving me so fucking crazy."

How are you meant to respond to that? Is there even a response yoj can give? 

There's raw emotion in his voice, his touch. For someone who you’ve seen yell at coworkers with no remorse, he's only been painfully gentle to you. 

So you do the only thing you can: you wrap his tie in your hand and tug him closer, crashing your lips onto his.

He presses you into him with a hand on the small of your back, greedily taking everything you’re giving him. After a moment he pulls back slightly, eyes searching yours.

"Don't kiss me like this is goodbye, love."

"Isn't it?"

"Fuck no." He says fiercely. "I'll tell the office, the entire goddamn world, that we're together and to leave you the fuck alone."

"They'll think I'm only where I am because I'm dating the boss."

"Are you happy?" He asks abruptly. 

"I- what?"

"Are you happy?"

After a moment, you dip your head slightly in a nod.

"Then why do you give a fuck what they think?"

Before you can respond with some logical response, he kisses you and all thoughts fly from your head. Your grip tightens on his tie, and he grins into the kiss slightly.

"So?" He questions.

"...I withdraw my letter of resignation." You sigh after a beat.

"There we go."

[gortash-week]

hello gortash nation. it is i, host of this week @sankttealeaf here! gortash week may "officially" be over but that means nothing when the archduke wants more! (he will not stop until he has more, please i miss my family he's keeping me locked away in wyrms rock prison and is making me dance for his amusement! i cant dance! help please!!)

anyway - despite the event ending, i will be leaving the AO3 collection open until the end of august / early september for those who found the event a little later and want to make something for these prompts. time is a weird soup after all, we don't follow rules here!!

if you've made something and have thought "oh no! its not the day of the prompt anymore - i cant post it" PLEASE share it!! i'm still accepting submissions and i'll still reshare any gortash week work here & tag whichever day its for! i know some people found out about the event as it was happening and if the prompts have inspired you - please share!!! i'd love to see it!!

thank you from the bottom of my heart if you've participated in this event - whether that's making things or simply engaging with the content shared. it means the world to me that people found the prompts interesting enough to take time out of their day to make something for it. i had no idea this event would be as big as it's become and i'm so so so impressed with the wide variety of work made and shared!! everyone is so talented and i cant wait to see what other things you all make and write <3

as for the future? well, i'd love to run more events like this! i've mentioned before about a hypothetical "gort month" that would include two prompts per week, 8(ish) prompts in total. that way there's a loooot more time to work on things & if people wish to join halfway through it's a lot less pressure to do so! my aim for running events is to keep them as stress & pressure free as possible because theyre here to be fun! i'm also open to comments & ideas & feedback on how you (yes, you!) found this event so if i do end up running something else in the future it can be better and better! pls feel free to shoot me as ask (anon or not it's fine! be respectful though, that's all i ask<3) if you have any post-event comments you want to air and i'll respond!!

again, if i've missed any of your work you've posted, please send it my way! no message required, just drop me the link & i'll share it asap!! thank you to those who have done that already!! i easily miss things and i dont want anyone to feel like im purposefully leaving them out!!

thank you again for making this week so enjoyable! ive had such a blast hosting it and if i see any other events i'll be sure to reblog them here (for those interested: i've seen a wyllmancer week, a galemancer week (both on twitter), and a lae'zel week on here that i can't seem to find the post for to link to :( )

again - super open to comments and feedback or even if you just want to say hi! i'm way more active on my main blog if you're interested in hanging out there :3

thank u so much for this week, it's been so much fun <3 <3

[agentmarcuspike]

can you do dbf!joel x reader with 6?

oh BOY can i...

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

(gif by @pedrorascal)

warnings: dbf!joel, random date x reader, nothing graphic but sex on the first date, break-in, brief mention of animal death ig, caught in the act. wordcount: 1k a/n: i know it's just a quick lil drabble, and i used to write a lot if fanfics, but i never actually posted any of them, so this feels like a bigger deal than it is, help ♡ ps: not edited and barely skimmed through after writing!

part 2 + part 3 + part 4

"so... this is me," you gesture to the house you share with your dad, averting you date's eyes. it's been a great night, and you'd love to invite him in, but you can hear music from your dad's records playing, and the low rumbling of his friends' voices. you saw them before you left for your date, all of them complimenting your hair or your dress or your legs. except for Mr. Miller, your next door neighbor, who rarely says anything at all. he looked at you all the same, though.

"cute house," your date replies. you chuckle nervously. "it's my dad's. i'm staying with him for a while to save some money."

"you grew up here?" he carefully takes your hands.

"i did", you smile, as you finally meet his eyes. "back in my childhood bedroom."

"hot..." he whispers. you laugh.

letting go of his hands, you take a step back.

"my dad has guests... so... i'm sorry to end the night here." you give him a half smile. the butterflies from the nice evening turn to dread. you don't want the night to end, and you want nothing more than to take him to bed, but the potential humiliation of having to sneak him in past your dad and all of his friends stops you.

he takes a step forward and closes the distance between you.

"why does it have to end?" he whispers, taking your hands again. "we don't need to go inside."

you cock your head, unsure of what he means. it's late november, and while the texas climate usually is nothing to complain about, your short dress won't warm your legs after the sun has set, and you're not too keen on getting arrested for indecent exposure either. not tonight, anyway.

a roar of laughter escapes from your house, and you can see your dad's silhouette in the window. next to him, Joel Miller takes a long sip of what's probably his eleventh beer of the night. you've seen him drink alone on his porch, you can't imagine how many units the awkward man goes through in a social situation.

Joel Miller... you look over to his house. his porch lights are on, but the rest of the house is dark. obviously, he's in your house. which means... his is empty...

an idea.

"we don't need to go inside... my house." you whisper back, meeting your date's hungry gaze. he lifts his eyebrows, intrigued, and you lead him away from your house, towards your neighbor's.

your neighbor used to have a cat. you know because you used to feed it. the first time your dad asked if you could pop over once a day while Miller was away you thought it was a joke, because grumpy Mr. Miller didn't strike you as a cat person. even after the cat was hit by Mrs. Adler's car last year he didn't seem like much of a cat person, burying it in his backyard without shedding as much as a tear.

knowing him, though, he still keeps his spare key in the same place.

and with a triumphant look to your date, you pull a key out from under his mat. "ka-ching," you wink. he looks around. "you sure?" he asks, swallowing harshly, as you swing the door open. instead of answering, you grab him by his shirt collar, and pull him inside.

Joel Miller's bedroom is cold, colder than you expected, the blue walls making it feel even colder, and taking off your clothes is not tempting. but given that your dress is already halfway over your head, you go for the skin-to-skin way of warming up instead.

the two of you quickly shimmy under Joel's covers, and a streak of excitement not coming from your date moves down your spine as you inhale the scent from the pillows, and for a brief second imagine what it would be like to share this bed with its owner instead.

while your date is in the bathroom, you let yourself float back into the unexpected fantasy that had hit you. you couldn't deny you hadn't thought about it before. Joel Miller was, for lack for a better word, a DILF. but given his status as your dad's best friend, and your 20 something year age gap, you'd never let yourself dwell on the though too much.

you bury your head in the pillows, inhaling the scent once again, and hear the floorboards creek. expecting it to be your date coming to slip silently back into bed with you, the deep grumble of your neighbor's voice makes you gasp.

“is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

you flip around, instinctively covering your chest with the blankets.

"mr. miller!" you squeak. "oh my god, miller, i'm so sorry, i--" you stutter as you try to come up with an excuse for the situation.

only a second passes before the toilet flushes, and Joel looks towards the bathroom, before looking back to you, brows raised. "and you have company?"

your date freezes in the doorway, hands shooting down to cover himself. "oh--" he begins, not sure how to continue.

Joel bends down to pick up the young man's shirt from the floor, tossing it at him. he catches it awkwardly, and quickly scrambles to pick up the rest of his clothes. you send him an apologetic look.

"you can go," Joel states, clearly to your date, but he's looking at you. "we'll talk once you're dressed." he throws your panties at you, and walks past the naked man into the hallway, shooting you another glance through the door before you hear him disappear downstairs.

after quickly apologizing to the guy who will surely be calling you "the worst date of his life" from now on, and sending him on his way (no numbers exchanged), you patter down the stairs, hoping Mr. Miller has somehow forgotten the whole thing.

he hasn't. he's sitting at the kitchen island with a beer. your eyes meet, and you look away quickly, not sure where to rest your gaze.

"want one?" Joel holds up his drink and nods towards the fridge.

"i should go, my dad--" you don't finish your sentence, as you turn to leave.

"wait." he calls after you. you stop, not turning around. "your dress."

you sigh. "thanks, it's vintage."

as you're about to keep walking, he calls again.

"it's tucked into your panties."

oh. my. god. oh my god. you quickly untuck it, throwing him a quick glance over your shoulder as you jog towards the door.

you can swear he was smirking.

[skirter01]

Top Gun: Fenton - Chpt 1 (Teaser)

Bout time I put this one out here. Will be up on Ao3 in the next 2 weeks!

The thing about plummeting 20,000ft through the air in the middle of the night – if you realise it's a bad idea halfway down, it's already too late. 

“Holy sh*t!” 

Admittedly, not one of Danny’s favourite ways to wake up. 

He could barely right himself as he plummeted through the dark sky in a mess of flailing limbs and flapping NASA pyjama pants. Obviously not his best look, but it wasn’t like he was prepared to wake up falling out of the sky. In fact, it wasn’t something he’d ever had to actually deal with considering he tended to defy gravity majority of the time anyway. 

Convenient, when it works, he thought saltily, still trying and failing to trigger any reciprocation from his core. Since when was he having power malfunctions? It was like he was fourteen all over again, turning his pants intangible in the school hallway. Puberty, ew. 

Danny’s lanky body flipped and folded uncontrollably like a sheet in the wind, while compressed air screamed past his ears and pulled at the skin of his face, drying out his mouth and grabbing at his eyelids painfully. How could anyone do this for fun, ever? 

Honestly, he’d pretty much accepted at this point that whatever was going on, this wasn't his fault. The last thing he remembered was falling into bed next to Sam post online doom sesh with Tucker and completely checking out of the world of consciousness – because yes he could do that now, three cheers for retirement! So, unless he could somehow teleport in his sleep, this was completely out of his control. Which was unsettling, but at least it was some comfort that he could blame someone else for once.  

A chill nipped at his arms as he plunged through more cloud cover, only this time, instead of more dark and gloom, he broke through to come face to face with perhaps the most menacing skyline he’d ever seen. 

Brutal skyscrapers stood like gods, towering over a city swathed in smog and pollution. Plumes of smoke drifted skywards, drifting past keeling cranes and breathing onto low flying aircraft weaving dangerously between high rises. 

Oh he was so not in Washington anymore. 

His eyes followed smatterings of dim light that illuminated bustling roads and jagged bridges, stooping down into a shadowy harbour, dotted with resting ships bobbing in dark water. The very same water which loomed ominously below him. Danny’s eyes widened as the still, murky harbour water rushed at him, and he tried uselessly to grasp any part of his half dead self. Head-on collision in ten, nine, eight….

He managed to swivel feet first, throwing his legs out like a spring to displace the water. Not that it helped. It was like hitting fucking concrete. His legs cracked sickeningly on impact and the icy harbour water engulfed him. 

As he sunk down, a horrible scenario flashed through his mind; his body filled with water, sinking to the bottom of this strange harbour in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, never to be found again. His only memory; a segment on buzzfeed unsolved. 

Naturally, Danny panicked. He floundered on the surface, splashing around with only arms to keep him afloat and the dreaded possibility that he’d just broken both legs. He sucked in salty water through his nose, and choked it down his throat as the dead-weight of his legs dragged him under. 

Sam, the house and the $20 in my wallet are yours. The console goes to Tucker – but I’ll never forgive you if you don’t put him through the blazing trials of hell to earn it. 

Miraculously, it was then that he felt that familiar weightlessness settle over him, and without a second thought, he launched himself skyward blindly – just far enough to miss the rest of the harbour and crash ragdoll style onto the wooden jetty. 

Rolling to a stop on his back, Danny groaned, chest heaving for oxygen he didn't need. His legs were on fire, but at least that was better than numb – c’mon freaky ghost powers do your thing already. All he wanted was to lie there and pass out. But that would just be too convenient. 

The red and blue lights of justice flashed against the white undersides of the expensive moored boats lining the jetting, and the squeal of rubber tires on tarmac had Danny cursing under his breath. Too fucking perfect. 

Car doors slammed, two of them, and the hurried thumping of boots on the flimsy wooden jetty vibrated against his back. Closest he’d get to a massage probably. 

“Hey!” 

Danny sighed and closed his eyes, so it begins.

The first cop was by his side in seconds, sliding to his knees at Danny’s shoulder. “Please, please don't be dead,” The guy mumbled to himself, clearly young by the tone, fiddling with his utility belt for what Danny could only guess was a pair of gloves. “Not another one. Not more paperwork.”

“Your lucky day” Danny wheezed out a laugh, forcing his eyes back open enough to give the poor traumatised dude some clarity. “Still kicking.” 

“Crap!” The cop startled, falling back on his heels, probably having already convinced himself that Danny was dead. He couldn't blame the guy, good intuition. “You scared the socks off me dude!” He put a hand to his chest, “But thank god for that.” 

“Ha.” Danny exhaled exhaustedly. The Officers silver name badge read ‘Det. Grayson’, but his face was young, a year or two older than Danny, he guessed, somewhere around twenty three or four – definitely too young to be a detective. Black hair peaked out from underneath Detective Graysons cap, hanging above blue eyes eerily similar to his own. They roved over Danny’s beaten face and body with the same critical gaze Jazz had been giving him for years. Oh yeah, oldest sibling for sure – out in the wild. 

The assessment halted at his legs, “God, your…” 

The second cop, Graysons partner, sidled up then, measly first aid kit in one hand and a flashlight in the other. He was an older man, stubby, with a crooked moustache, wide face and a badge that read ‘Const. Marshall’. “What’ve we got Grayson? Another body – holy christ!” 

Constable Marshall staggered a few steps, when his flashlight illuminated Danny’s tattered legs. “Oh hell no. That’s bone! I see bone!” 

“Marshall!” Grayson scolded in a harsh whisper, ripping away the first aid kit.

Danny cringed. So much for being calm in front of a patient. His legs must be pretty gruesome then. It wasn’t worrying, not when he could already feel the burning sensation of his ectoplasm trying to cinch them back together. Except, that was just the problem. 

He gritted his teeth. Please stop healing. 

“Sorry about him,” Grayson mumbled, calmly reaching into the first aid kit for some intense looking bandages, “I’m Detective Grayson, and that’s Constable Marshall. We’re with Bluhaven PD, but we’re working with Gotham City at the moment. What’s your name?” 

Danny’s stomach dropped. “We’re in Gotham?” 

“Gotham harbour specifically.” Detective Graysons brow furrowed. “Did you hit your head at all?” 

“No–I, um…” What in the hell was going on? “– sorry, I’m Danny.”

The Detective's eyes were wary, but he hid it well with an awkward smile. “Well it’s nice to meet you Danny. Although, not the best circumstances, I’m sure.” 

Danny chuckled breathily, mind spinning. “Tell me about it.” 

“What in the hell happened?” Constable Marshall asked, white as a sheet and looking all the more like he was about to regurgitate his dinner into the harbour. “I’m calling an ambulance.” 

Danny’s heart jumped to his throat. “Oh no really – you don't have to, I’m fine, I’ll just–”

“No time. We’ll take him with us” Grayson interrupted, tying off bandages around Danny’s legs to stem the bleeding. “Marshall, help me get him up” 

Danny let out a very manly whine as both men gripped him under the arms and carefully lifted his battered body to a standing position. His vision spun, and he wobbled dangerously, because obviously standing on two broken legs wasn’t going to provide much stability. The younger of the two cops was quick to duck under his shoulders and lift the weight off, whilst the Constable on the other side took a second longer to follow his example. So much for seniority. 

“Danny, how are you going buddy? You with us?” Grayson asked, the epitome of calm, but Danny really couldn't give him an answer right now. He continued, “We’re going to get you over to the car okay? And then we’ll go straight to the hospital.”

“No hospitals.” Danny moaned amidst spinning vision and pounding head. 

“Yeah, I’m afraid you don’t really have a choice my dude, sorry.” Grayson smirked. “Nice pants by the way. NASA, very spacey"

Danny died a little more.

---

Whoop! Bit vague, but all the more fun to come!

[ashbeneviento]

Smut/ slight fluff Headcanons For Donna (again, bc she’s my wife and all I can think about)

This post contains CNC kinks, dark themes, bodily harm, slight voyeur, possessiveness/yandere, drugging, and mentions of g!p that are all consented to. If these aren’t your thing please just keep scrolling! And obviously she gives you the best aftercare 😌

Content below the ***’s and as always, thanks for reading :)

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-Donna will make you a special tea to put you to sleep. There’s always a note beside it telling you the contents in said tea and the effects of it, allowing you to make the decision to drink it. If you don’t, she takes that as a no and will find something else for you both to do (like watch movies and cuddle!)

However, if you do decide to drink it..prepare to wake up later with a delicious ache between your legs. Donna loves how perfectly innocent you look and how well behaved you are asleep. Her very special doll to play with. Her favorite thing to do is to eat you out as you make soft moans, your juices coating her lips and chin until those soft moans turn into grunts and whines.

*Why would she stop? You taste so good, Tesoro.. you’re all hers. Every part of you belongs to her including your orgasms*

Other times she’ll bind you to the bed and fuck you roughly with her strap/g!p, enjoying the way it looks going in and out of you until she’s satisfied. She often wonders what you’re dreaming of while she plays with your sleeping body, but she has a few good guesses…

After you wake up she tells you everything she did to you, then promptly runs you a nice bath and makes you a snack/makes you drink water.

-Donna can be quite possessive. No one can look at you for too long unless they want to be driven to insanity by her pollen. She stopped bringing you to meetings because Alcina teased once of letting you stay at the castle, bringing you back home and punishing you for even entertaining the idea. (You didn’t even say anything except nervously laugh) Tied up with your hands behind your back, face down in the bed with your ass in the air, she smacks and whips you until you’re certain you won’t be sitting for a week.

She loves marking you. Welts and droplets of blood seep from your skin. Bite marks on your neck and chest and if not that;hickeys littering your body. She’ll make sure everyone knows who you belong to, even Miranda dares not touch a single hair on you from the sight.

Those cuts and welts are properly cleaned and kissed, and she never takes it further than what you can handle.

You can’t leave, not ever. (Not that you want to anyway) Not even for necessities, you have the Duke for such things for a reason. You’re only allowed out in the yard..with her presence of course. Angie is your sitter if Donna is too busy with work/experimenting, but you can feel her gaze sometimes behind those beady eyes and know she’s secretly taking a peak.

-Speaking of outside…your shy lover may be a recluse, but that doesn’t stop her from testing the limits with slight voyeurism. She’ll fuck you out in the open, surrounded by nature and the loud hum of the waterfall. She loves making you strip for her as she lays on a blanket in the grass, looking up at you with hunger in her eye. It makes you feel far more exposed, because while no one was brave enough to wander on Beneviento ground, there was always the idea of chance in the back of your mind. She even gets that dangerous glint in her eyes as you scream out in pleasure, causing the crows hiding in the trees to caw and fly off and away.

Sometimes she even takes you halfway through the underground tunnel that leads to the chapel, making your moans echo through so embarrassingly loud that you’re certain at least one of the Lords or Miranda could hear. “Mine..” she’ll growl in your ear as she pumps into you harder, her breathing ragged and moans raspy.

-Most of the time she’s focused on giving you pleasure, but when it’s time for her to take it for herself she does so.. She loves seeing your pretty lips wrap around her strap/g!p, a painfully delicious grip into your hair as you gag and take every inch down your throat. No use in crying, *she loves it*. Same goes for eating her out.. wether your on your knees under her desk or anywhere else in the house, you won’t be stopping anytime soon. You best swallow as well, you wouldn’t want to upset her do you? No.. you’re her good little doll who takes what she gives you. Not that you would need much convincing, she tastes like heaven and you’ll beg for it like you’re starving.

-Donna also found a way to immobilize you but keep you awake and aware. A special drug she created herself so you can be experience every feeling she gives to you without you being able to retaliate. Of course she kept it so your eyes could move, however. She checks in constantly, reading your answers by you moving them up and down for yes and side to side for no. She never uses any of her special drugs without prior consent, and always explains in details how they’ll affect you during and after they’ve worn off.

You love feeling like her toy, free to play with whenever and however she likes.. but you know she truly doesn’t think of you as such. You like the freedom to pretend and let yourself be open with her just as much as she does with you.

Sorry for any grammatical mistakes, I wrote this so fast because if I didn’t I’d implode. Donna brainrot 24/7 365.

[nerdieforpedro]

A New Tradition with Frankie

Frankie "Catfish" Morales x GN reader

Fanfiction rating: Teens and up

My blog overall is 18+ MDNI

Masterlist / Frankie “Catfish” Morales Masterlist

Summary: An adventure in baking leads to fun and laughter at your expense. But in the end, his smile is what matters.

Warnings: likely bad baking directions, jokes in very poor taste, cursing, Frankie having fun at your expense, domestic fluff

Notes: I wanted to give Frankie some fluff. In my previous Frankie Fridays, I've been having that man work through his trauma. He needed some pure fluff and laughs. I did look up how to make gingerbread cookies but unlike many of the wonderful baking posts by @avastrasposts I have no idea what I’m doing. 😆 I made a post yesterday about what my chocolate chip cookies looked like and I cannot be trusted with an oven.

Word Count: approx. 1.2K

The directions had been clear and you read them twice before starting. You even tailored your shopping list to them and had double checked you had all the ingredients two days ago. Why do they all look like piles of lumpy dirt?

Now the ginger, cinnamon, brown sugar, molasses give it the brown color which makes sense. The wet ingredients you added after the dry because that’s what they always did on one of your favorite shows ‘Nailed it!’ and you made fun of the bakers who dumped everything in at once. You swear you’re not like them. You promise. 

The dough sat in the fridge for two and a half hours. The minimum was two but you were checking emails on your phone and lost track of time. A rolling pin was bought for this, you hadn’t owned one, never needed one but you got one. A good one not from the dollar store, but from Target. Rolled out the dough, shaped the little gingerbread cookies, set the oven to 350 degrees and put them in, rotating them halfway so they would bake evenly. The cookies had been rising and rising and maybe they rose a bit too much, but maybe it would fall like a cake. They all rise and fall right?

But now, these cookies mock you, they’re huge, puffy, oblong. Not the cute circles you’d cut out less than 30 minutes ago. What can you do with them?

“Hermosa (gorgeous), I’m home. Benny lost to the Raz guy again. He’s really got to train harder.” Your husband walked in, setting his keys in the dish by the door and slipping his boots off. He was making his way to the kitchen. You threw a dish towel over the cookies in a vain attempt to hide them. He’s a pilot whose job it is to keep track of minute details that can disrupt a flight plan. You’re not hiding anything. 

“Hey Frankie. Benny lost again? Maybe he should take a break for a bit like you said.” You smiled, your fingers nervously tapping your thigh. He was scanning you and the room.

“Hermosa. What’s under the cloth? This isn’t the day you murder me for wearing shoes inside the house is it?” He laughed moving toward you and those abominations called cookies. 

“No. And I mention one time how I don’t like dirt tracked in the house and you go right to murder Morales. Jeez.” You crossed your arms in false offense before pulling him close to you by his arms. “You have to pay the toll, you know. Just gonna walk in this house and think you don’t. Mighty full of yourself sir.” You grinned and placed a soft peck on his lips. Frankie smiled and put an arm around your shoulders, deepening the kiss before stepping back, holding the dishcloth.

“I’m a man who pays his debts.” He took one look at the oversized cookies and doubled over in laughter. “Hermosa no, baby why? These are the gingerbread cookies you talked about? They look like…like..”

“Don’t say it…” You covered your ears. You’d hear him anyways, but it didn’t stop you from being mortified that he saw them and what you both knew they looked like.

“Like what came out of Santi’s dog after he gave him that kibble with the extra fiber..!” Frankie continued to bellow with glee, clumsy stepping back. Your hands went from your ears to your hips, face burning with annoyance but also glee that he was able to laugh so freely. It used to be difficult to get a chuckle out of the man when he wasn’t with his brothers in arms. 

“I used to like you Frankie. Damn it.” At this point, you’re biting your lips to hold back your own laugh. Morales is red in the face, starting to wheeze.

“Hermosa, you know I love you.” Despite his eyes starting to water, he’s stepping toward you, in an effort to get away from him, you move to the other side of the table when he easily uses his long legs to intercept and catch you from behind, nuzzling his chin in your neck while still chuckling. “I love you and your shity looking cookies.”

“You’re lucky, you’re cute and I’m a sucker for men who like my shity looking cookies.”

You finally gave in and giggled in his arms as he rocked you from side to side.

“Did you try them? Are they edible?” He asked, waddling back over to the cookies with you.

“I hadn’t tried them yet. I was so taken with what they looked like.” You admitted. 

The both of you agreed to break a cookie in half to try. Now standing side by side, you counted to three and bit into the cookie. It was warm, fluffy and actually tasted sweet. Like gingerbread.

“Damn mi vida (my life), they look horrible, but taste great. This is your first time making them right?” Frankie asked, chewing it and downed the other half. He kissed your forehead, leaving a few crumbs from his patchy beard which you brushed off your head. 

“Yeah. I wanted to try and make a tradition for us, and surprise you. I guess I did both. Not exactly how I planned though.” You finished your half of the cookie as well, licking your lips. Proud that you did at least make something that tasted good. In the midst of studying the cookies, you saw a glint of something. Turning, Frankie had pulled out his phone and was snapping pictures of the cookies. “Morales! Don’t you dare!” You lunged in an effort to grab his phone from him, he put his hands up and out of your reach.

“I gotta save the memory of these cookies! You understand mi vida?” That booming laugh of his returned as his hands snaked around your sides. You twisted your mouth, determined to let him know that you weren’t ok with him taking pictures of your baking disaster. But he was laughing so much more, more than he had been in months.

“Just don’t send them to the guys. Please Francisco.” His smile curved into a grin.

“I’m Francisco now? Well maybe I should, since I’ve been downgraded to Francisco.” He touched his prominent nose to yours, rubbing it slightly. It tickled and you drew back before rubbing yours against his. 

“I just called you by your name. I’m serious. Don’t. Benny still calls me Baby Legs from when I did shots with you guys.” Morales bites his bottom lips before digging his face into your shoulder, you feel the vibrations of his laughter on your skin.

“I know, I know.” He assured you when he picked his head back up, he put his phone in his pocket and placed his palm on your cheek. “Next time we’ll bake them together, alright mi amor (my love)? We’ll make it a tradition like you said.” You both took another look at the bloated cookies and laughed together, echoing so the neighbors could hear if they chose to.

Tag List:

@fhatbhabie @morallyinept @pedritapascal @pascalsanctuary @nissaimmortal @grogusmum @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @goodwithcheese @iamasaddie @psychedelic-ink @megamindsecretlair @pamasaur @pedrodascal @marcus-is-my-muse @clawdee @mintypossum @trulybetty @perotovar @joelslegalwhre @josephquinnswhore @mandoisapunk @secretelephanttattoo @for-a-longlongtime @tessa-quayle @legendary-pink-dot @sin-djarin @maggiemayhemnj @rhoorl @magpiepillsjunior @intoanotherworld23 @linzels-blog @joelmillers-whore @guelyury @laurfilijames @missladym1981 @pamasaur @alltheglitterandtheroar @din-djarins-riduur @daddy-dins-girl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @yorksgirl @saturn-rings-writes @gwendibleywrites @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @undercoverpena @musings-of-a-rose @gnpwdrnwhiskey

[lemonxdaisybby]

Hello! The lingerie headcanons for the judgment bois was so good. Can I maybe ask for lingerie headcanons for Ichiban, Zhao, Sawashiro, Yamai and Eiji? hope that’s not too many to ask for!

Helloooo! Ofc you can! Also there’s no limit either to how many people you wanna add to a request 💕 Altho if I did get an ask for say, 20 characters or so in one go, I may cry a little

I can do Yamai as I’ve progressed enough with Infinite Wealth to feel comfortable writing for him. However, I have left Eiji out for now, only becauseeee I’m just over halfway through the game (I keep getting distracted by Dondoko Island because I love it) so I’m not 100% confident or sure on how to write his character yet. I’m so sorry.

I’ll probs make a post once I’ve finished IW so people can request for any of those characters going forward. 💕

Also thank you for the request, and I hope you like!

S/O surprising them w lingerie ✨

Ichiban:

Ichi’s brain is going to straight up stop working, and his face would just heat up immediately. He would momentarily be broken.

As soon as he comes home and sees you dressed in pretty lingerie for him, he is gonna freeze. His eyes would be comically wide, and his mouth would be opening and closing as if he’s trying to say something, but no noise would be coming out. You’d probably have to approach him and ask him if he likes it, to break him out of his daze.

He’d just become putty in your hands, nodding yes to your question, not quite trusting himself to speak, because honestly? He has no idea what is going to come blurting out his mouth.

It would probably be best if you just lead him to the bedroom at this point. Grab his hand, and he’ll eagerly follow you.

Ichi is a bottom anyways, but somehow this will be amplified when you wear lingerie. He will just be in awe of you, his gaze locked on to your body, and his hands roaming every inch of you.

He doesn’t really have a preference for lingerie, and thinks all of it is pretty. He might prefer cuter lingerie, so babydolls with pretty, floaty, sheer material, and would also appreciate cute lil bow or flower charms/decor. Pretty, sexy, fairy vibes almost. He is also a boob man, so would appreciate an outfit that really gives him a good view of your tits.

Zhao:

Zhao would be so turned on, and would be internally wondering what he did to deserve such an amazing partner.

As soon as he spots you in your lingerie, it’s game on. He’d get that sly glint in his eyes, and would be looking at you as though he’s about to eat you up. He’d try and play coy, asking ‘Is this for me? You shouldn’t have’, except he is already circling you, taking a good look at every inch of your body in your little outfit. He would stop behind you, hands gripping your hips and pulling you back towards him, so that your back is pressed tightly against his chest. He’d be leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and….how is he suddenly the one seducing you!?

Lingerie would definitely release some sort of animalistic urge in him, and Zhao will not stop fucking you until you’re screaming his name.

He is an ass man, so would appreciate a lacy thong, paired with a skimpy matching bra, suspender belt, and strappy little garters, as opposed to stockings. The bra would definitely be coming off, but bonus points if the thong is crotchless, so that he can leave it on whilst he fucks you, along with your other accessories.

Sawashiro:

Loooord, this is gonna drive him crazy.

As soon as Jo comes home and spots you waiting for him, all dressed up in lingerie, he will fall deadly silent. At first, you might get the impression you’ve done something wrong, as his face would be expressionless, and he wouldn’t utter a single noise. However, his gaze will start trailing up and down your body, his eyes darkening, and he’ll be giving you the most intense eye fucking you have ever received. His gaze would be so heated.

He’d take his time as he walks on over to you, his eyes never once leaving you. He’d call you a dirty little tease, shrugging off his suit jacket, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves so he can roll them up his forearms.

He’s gonna take you there and then. If you’re in the hallway of your home, he’s gonna turn you around, and press your front to the wall as he slams in to you from behind. If you’re in the lounge/living room, you’re getting dicked down on the sofa. Waiting for him in the bedroom? You’re getting shoved down on to the bed and he will be on you in an instant. Lingerie would rile this man up so much, and the fact you’ve been patiently waiting for him to return home? He’s not gonna disappoint.

Jo would usually prefer you completely naked, but the sight of you topless, in nothing but a lacy thong and some thigh-high tights/stockings? Man will go feral.

Yamai:

Yamai and his goddamn poker face. He is gonna walk in, catch sight of you waiting for him, looking all seductive, and he will just pause, his eyes raking over you. In that slow, lazy drawl of his, he’s gonna say something along the lines of ‘well shit, if I’d known this was waiting for me, I would’ve come home earlier’. His eyes would just be glowering at you, and he’d look as though he’s about ready to devour you.

Always the one in control of situations, even surprises. He’d go and sit himself down on the sofa, patting his thigh expectantly, a clear sign that he wants you to go and straddle him. His hands would be on you in an instant, once you’re sat astride him, his fingers digging in to your hips tightly. He would try to be gentle because he loves you and is secretly a softie for you, but he definitely can get a bit rough with you, and lingerie would only spur him on. He’d have you ride him, but he would still be in control, his grip never loosening. He’s got a sharp tongue too, and will call you a good little whore, for dressing up for him and waiting so patiently for him to return home.

Yamai would likely appreciate corsets, and the way they accentuate your curves and push up your breasts would drive him insane. He’d also find a lacy, tight basque sexy, along with matching stockings. Anything tight fitting is a yes from him.

[skunkox]

Country Lovin Darlin and Rambles.

Is this gonna be self indulging? Very much so. I'm starting to realize no one can stop me, but hear me out real quick. Forgive me if you do decide to read all the way through. It's a lot. 🥲

Before moving to Dahlia, Darlin' used to spend half their summers with their grandparents in Texas. Sorta old money/ retired folk. Big land, but not too much on it. Plenty of room for the shiftsr grandchildgren to play. Passively still making money via whool sales. Yeah, there's other animals, but it's not a giant operation. They do have other empowereds working as ranch hands for them, though.

Anyways, a good moth or so out of each summer as a child, Darlin would help around the ranch, learn to cook and bake, and even participate in town events. (I'm telling you the fucker can cook. Just not for one person.)

Lazy Sunday mornings were spent in front of the TV with their grandfather watching old westerns or things like "The Andy Grifith Show," "Little House on the Prarie," and "Tales of Wells Fargo".

Not even halfway into they stay, they'll have developed a country accent. They still struggled to get be friends with most of the kids their age. Was it because they picked up a garden snake like it was just a piece of rope? Was it because they alegedly chased a kid girl with it that had been giving them hell? Who knows.

I wholeheartedly believe that Darlin was a pageant kid at some point in their life. Regardless of how ruff and tough they are, they were a cute kid. Don't pay the bandaid brand character bandaid any mind.

This is where I say this is really just my version of Darlin and a little bit of Sweetheart. It's Redunk Time.

Specifically for my version of Darlin (fem), "Southern Bell" like fair competitions are what her grandmother would enter the kids in. The one day out of the year she's happy to put on a frilly dress and bows. Not a whole lot of confidence for themselves on stage for the most part, though.

Diving more into the idea that Darlin and Sweetheart used to be friends before the move idea. Sweetheart has gone with them once or twice. Especially when the older cousins were visiting for less time, if at all. The old wolves like a full house, so they had no problem hosting another empowered child.

Sweetheart loved taking pictures and video of their adventures. Still currently holding footage to a misshap of sorts that they swore to never tell anyone about. They also have footage of competitions from the fairs. Including the pageants. Do they plan on telling the pack? Yes. (That's a post for another day)

The duo thought it was weird that the they would be leaving at separate times. They noticed the soured moods of the grandparents but the older wolves couldn't bring themselves to say anything on it in the days leading to their departures. Sweetheart took the flight home alone. Darlin was under the impression that the family was taking a short trip to California before summer ended.

Much to their distraught, their parents had either been moved and or found new jobs in Dahlia. The move was in the works for nearly half a year and they had no idea. Their older siblings knew, but they did everything their parents told them. They got no warning that they wouldn't see their friends anymore. That they wouldn't be attending school that fall with the same kids. That they wouldn't even get to say goodbye to their old house. No proper goodbye to Sweetheart.

Summer visits to Texas were just about haulted. Their parents wanted Darlin to better acquaint themselves with the other pack children. This was a struggle for years.

Sweetheart moving to work for the department and finding themselves with Milo was one thing. But the first time they happened to see each other in a pack meeting was rough. They knew almost instantly who each other were.

Sweetheart had seen a photo in Milo's living room. It was framed next to a lamp. The picture was of Christian and Amanda who awkwardly sat side by side. Hands just nearly touching. On one end of a log. David sat facing forward while Asher sat crooked with an arm thrown over David's shoulder. Both had been laughing. Milo and Darlin had been on the ground and back to back. Darlin had thrown up a rock sign with a small smile, attempting to no ruin the picture with their resting pitch face. Milo sat leaning on one knee, trying his best to look cool and composed.

To make a long story short. Both played dumb as to knowing each other for one reason or another. It wasn't till the Quinn situation, and Darlin coming back to the pack did the two start to speak. It took it all being over for them to finally become close again.

Back to the country thing

Hearing Sam speak for the first time really took them back especially at the end of their conversation with "Didn't your mama teach you not to talk to strange men in the dark, all alone?"

It felt familiar. It disarmed them and put then at ease. Sam's voice is something Darlin couldn't and still can't get enough of. They slip into an accent every once in a while. To them it feels right. Some slips happen in front of the pack and they've been teased for it. Sweetheart knows thr truth and is waiting eagerly to spill the beans on their country loving friend.

So... didn't mean for this to be as long as it is. Really putting a lot into Darlin's character cause it feels right. I like old TV. I mean sorta staticky box tv vibes. My grandfather was into a lot of it. My mom started me on LHOTP and I recently discovered a live channel for it and only it.

I really do apologize for how messy this all looks. It was an accident. Anyways, some bits and pieces of this will eventually be drawn out. Got weeks worth of stuff to do for this Fandom alone 😭

[littledancer9]

Hi! Any idea when you’ll drop the next installment of “ It's Always Yes with You”?Hope you’re well! 🌸

Yay a fan!! I am working on it!! I don’t think I’m close enough to project a date, but I would hope there isn’t a terrible delay. I’ve got about 2k words written so far.

@axdragons and I have planned out the chapter, she has made some fabulous moodboards, and now I just need to make the vision happen.

Here’s a sneak peek of some banter, because that’s what we’re all here for:

Jon’s eyes were on her as she licked her lips and unfolded the slip of paper. She hoped something sexy was inside. She wouldn’t mind a little morning sex…

Go skinny dipping

“What! That was not in the original jar!” She tossed the pink post-it to the side, looking incredulously at Jon. Her eyes bulged and her hands were tense pushing against the table. This was not the something sexy she envisioned.

“I may have taken some liberties with The Jar,” he smirked, bringing his mug to his upturned lip.

“It’s like 9:00 AM. We can’t go skinny dipping at 9:00 AM.”

“There is nothing in the Riverlands,” he mocked in a sorry attempt at her voice.

She blinked darkly at him. “I said no-thing,” she enunciated. “Not no-one.”

He arched a brow. “Are you saying no to The Jar? We hadn’t discussed penalties yet.” He rubbed his chin, looking away in pantomimed contemplation. “But just remember,” he cut his eyes to her. “You made me walk around the grocery store shirtless while old ladies groped me.”

She gulped cold coffee and snorted out a laugh. “I am sorry about that. Really.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t bitch out on me.”

She huffed, searching the cabin for any further distractions. Finding none, she relented. “Fine. Let’s go.”

She threw the chair back and marched through the house to find her flip flops. She’d spent half of college with her tits out because of The damned Jar anyway, what was a little full nudity in The Middle of Nowhere?

Jon clumsily gathered the coffee mugs and ran them to the sink. “Really? Right now?”

Dany was halfway to the door with her tote bag tossed over shoulder when she stopped to challenge him. Her hair was disheveled from sleep and she still sported a baggy t-shirt and stained shorts. “The Jar waits for no one, Jon. Or have you forgotten the rules already, old timer?”

“Forgot them? I made them! Freshman year with Robb and Theon!” He argued from the fridge. He emerged with two bottles of water and brought them over to drop them in her bag.

[sugarcoatednightshade]

finally got around to watching The Unsleeping City and I'm so obsessed with Pete. immaculate vibes. perfect character.

Anyway I'm halfway through episode 8 and I can't stop thinking about the previous episode, We Need to Talk About Pete. Especially that scene where Robert Moses shows him that video of Kingston admitting that he'd kill him if necessary, and Pete assumes that it's just taken out of context. Which is funny and sorrowful because this is a rare instance where context makes his statement 1000x worse.

And I had to pause Subway Skirmish and write this quickie just exploring what would happen if Pete heard the whole conversation, terrible context included. Its mostly work for word until the end, the only difference being that Ricky agrees more with Esther and basically proposes an intervention, which gets to Pete in a whole other way.

I'm predicting that Pete and the gang make up almost immediately. Either at the end of this episode or the next one. Which is really sweet and affirming, but I love the idea of pvp and Pete actively fighting the rest of the group, maybe embracing being the voice of nightmares as well as dreams, isolating himself with nightmares, etc.

Anyway, I cant finish the episode I'm on until I post this. mom said. Enjoy 1.5k I literally wrote instead of sleeping. This is a first draft, unedited, probably full of needless angst and grammatical errors, I wrote it in like an hour and refuse to read it again. Enjoy.

Robert held the phone out to Pete. Its screen showed a video cued up to play.

“Listen, kid, I’m not trying to force you into anything here. I just want you to have all the information, know who you’re really working with.”

“I know who I’m working with,” Pete lied. But he was looking down at the screen which showed his new – friends? Associates? Comrades in arms? – sitting down at a table. The angle was high and the quality kind of shit, like it was taken from old security footage, but Pete could clearly make out Kingston’s expression, frozen in something like rage. It was a weird expression on him, one Pete hadn’t seen in all the time he’d known the man.

“Just look,” Robert said. “Come to your own conclusions.”

Pete takes the phone away from Robert, hating himself for it. But, goddamn it, despite it all, he was still fucking human. Even knowing Robert’s game – he could practically smell the shit he was talking – he couldn’t pass up on free information. If only so that he could know what Robert knew, so he couldn’t use it as extortion later.

Yeah, Pete thought, real convincing.

He pressed play. The image on screen jumped, showing a much calmer and collected Kingston. It was reassuring for all of one second, because when the recorded Kingston opened his mouth, the words he said sent Pete’s stomach rocketing to the floor.

“I mean, here’s the truth Alejandro if things get out of hand, we put him down. Straight up.”

He barely hears Kugrash’s and Sofia’s protests, ignores the revelations that Kugrash has human kids and a whole human life he abandoned, stuck trying to process what he just heard.

Kingston is speaking again, saying that ten out ten times he’d choose the city over Pete and that’s fine, really, that’s fine. Pete’s not selfish enough to thing that he matters more than the entire population of New York City. And Kingston is supposed to be the voice of the city or something. It’s basically his job. Pete should be used to people in his life choosing their careers over him.

Sofia asks a question that’s been bothering him for a while, and Alejandro answers confuses him at first – he talks about someone named Jackson and a Concrete Order and some other things Pete doesn’t really understand until…

“It is not fair to the people who have come to this city or have been born here and lived here their entire lives, that their wellbeing, safety, and in fact, even their life or death should be thrown into chaos because of what amounts to often a joke.”

Pete thinks back to the bug monsters that had attacked Astoria. Despite all the destruction and chaos and death, at no point had he sensed any real malice coming from them. They had been excited and grateful and fully unaware of why what they were doing was wrong. To call them evil implied that they knew right from wrong and actively chose it, but they were just doing what they did just because.

Alejandro had become more animated as he spoke, gesturing wildly with his hands, but now he lowered his voice enough that Pete had to raise the volume and lean in to hear it. “Peter actively courts the darkness more than the light.” Alejandro’s back was turned to the camera, but Pete could see the way his shoulders hunched forward, as if he were sharing some great secret or revelation.

Suddenly his hands feel clammy with sweat. He wants to pause the video but can’t, can’t let Robert know that any of its getting to him, so instead he watches as a group of people talk about him like he’s something dangerous, talk about locking him up – you guys have to tell me if you’re cops, right? – and taking his drugs and putting him down like he’s infected. Like he’s a rabid dog that can’t be trusted not to bite.

And, looking around, Pete hates to admit that they’re right. What defense does he have, sitting in a vampiric nightclub filled with dead-eyed humans selling their bodies for a little cash? What defense does he have when he’s so used to that stare that it barely registers? How many times has he sold drugs to people with that same look in their eyes, desperate and empty?

Pete knows what kind of person he is, what kind of people he runs with. And like Robert had pointed out, he’s not exactly subtle. Pete knows he’s dirt. Robert called him a businessman. Kugrash seems to think he’s just some troubled kid who needs a little guidance. Kingston and Alejandro think he’s a ticking bomb.

But Pete knows what he is. He’s a homeless drug dealer who sells to monsters and children, whose only friends are nightmares and people who want him dead. Fuck them, he thinks, who fucking needs them.

Some girl – Esther, he thinks, but it’s hard to remember when her back is to the screen – voices her support of Kingston.

Ricky is facing the camera, so Pete can see his face when he agrees with her. The grainy footage blurs his features, but he still looks sad when he says, “Obviously, Pete needs help. He’s not in a good state physically, financially, or mentally. He a danger to the city, sure, but he’s just as much a danger to himself. I’m not saying we lock him up, but what if we just supervised him. Helped him get clean and sober, and then maybe that would help him calm down a little, give him a little more control over what he’s doing.”

Hearing Ricky – perfect fucking Mr. March with his washboard abs and crest-white smile – talk about staging an intervention is almost more painful than watching Kingston plan murder.

How fucking dare they. What, they know him for one fucking week and decide it’s their business what he does with his life. They’re total strangers, who cares if they think he’s dangerous. Of course he’s dangerous; it’s New York fucking City, everyone here’s dangerous. The people right now discussing his murder probably more dangerous than he is. But them coming after his livelihood? His medicine? Sure, he could probably live without the coke and shit, but what happens when they come for his anti-psychotics? His Zoloft? His Testosterone?

Would they decide that’s unnecessary too, decide to take that away from him for his own safety?

Sofia, previously his strongest defender, looks to be agreeing with Ricky. Only Kugrash is pushing back, talking about self-medication and withdrawal. But Kingston’s talking over him and then the video cuts, ended, back to the paused scene showcasing Kingston mid-yell.

A voice from the corner of his mind he’s beginning to associate with his magic speaks. They know nothing of your struggles… they do not know your pain as we do… they would have you imprisoned or worse, without trial or jury… we can help you escape…

A shadow appears in front of him, and Pete nearly jumps out of his skin. But its only Robert asking for his phone back. Pete hands it over without a word.

“I hope you have considered what you have seen.” He says.

“I might need some time to think it over,” Pete says, which is true. “I know the area, I might head across the street a get a drink.”

Robert frowns. “Why go to another bar and pay when you can get drinks here for free?”

His tone immediately sets Pete on edge. Between his dad, Alejandro, and now Kingston and Ricky, he’s so goddamn tired of men telling him what to do. And Pete’s not some fresh teenager new to the scene; he’s not stupid enough to accept free drinks from a suit.

“No, actually, I think I’d really rather leave.” He says, moving to the exit. Robert lets him leave.

On his way out, Pete catches sight of his reflection in a mirror. It covers a wall of the club floor to ceiling. What he sees reminds him of that one vampire movie, Van Helsing. Most people in the club vanish in the mirror. It’s just him and Robert and the other humans reflected. Robert excluded, Pete thinks that he fits right in with this crowd. It’s his first time seeing his own reflection in days; bloodshot sunken eyes and unwashed hair, his skin visibly damp with sweat.  He looks like any other homeless junkie. How could anyone think he’s dangerous? How could anyone think he’s an important player in this game?

The mirror people stare back without seeing. The voice of magic whispers… but you are important… you are important to us…

Pete turns to keep walking, makes his way out onto the street now bustling with city life. He was stupid to think this new group of friends wouldn’t fall apart or turn on him. They were too good to be true anyway. How could he have forgotten that he belonged here in the gutter with the rest of his people. Homeless junkies and petty thieves.

He wouldn’t forget again.

[i-am-a-living-god]

Would you...Share the plot of a story/fic/comic you don't think you'll get to but would like the world to know about?

Ok I didn't answer this at first because I didn't think I had an answer. But now I remember that I do!

So about a year ago me and two other people came up with this au that we named evil Splinter au, (very creative I know.) E.S AU for short.

So the premise is exactly what it sounds like. It's a 2012 au, but because the three of us have an unexplained burning hatred for 2012 Splinter, so we made him evil.

So the deal is, Splinter hates kids, and he's racist, against mutants. One problem, he has mutant kids. So naturally, he decides to MURDER ALL OF HIS TURTLE SONS. Bear with me, he gets attached to the idea of having only one son. so he decided to find the strongest, and weed out the weak.

So when the turtles were young (about 4 years old) he thought that Donnie was the strongest, cause he's tall. But when they got older, Splinter realized that tall does not make you strong. He realized this cause Donnie started getting into medicine, which is for losers. So he stopped loving him, and found a new favorite: Leo.

So Leo ran into the kraang when he was a lil guy, and got experimented on or something. He waddled back to the lair, (because they're basically invulnerable, cause if they died we wouldn't have a plot.) Splinter recognized this as strength, and appointed him as him new favorite. Basically, Splinter tries to get his favorite to help him kill the others.

Omg he's so pathetic lol, he needs the help of a literal child to kill other children, which he still fails to do somehow???😭

So Leo kind of is rewired by the kraang to follow orders for them, but they failed to keep him and he immediately escaped. (Plot armor, don't question it!) Because of this, his eyes shift between pink and blue, blue means he's mostly in control, and pink means the kraang-washing is in control.

Donnie ditches and makes friends with April and Casey, and they get into a relationship. He tries to find a way to fix Leo, and save his brothers or something. He doesn't like Mikey cause he's "suspicious" and Donnie thinks he's totally secretly working for Splinter.

Mikey is just totally freaked out, and also ditchs, and befriends leatherhead, and other mutants. He gets a bit paranoid and starts putting little bits of different Poison's in his brothers food, to build an immunity. It works I guess.

Raph has no idea that Splinter is trying to kill them and just thinks that Splinter is giving them some hardcore training, where you even need to be alert while you sleep!

Leo knows exactly what's going on, and tries his best to find loopholes in Splinters commands, and always manges to understand usually the opposite of what Splinter tells him. (I want you to know that this concept started when we were talking about how splinter is cryptic af, and Leo always seems to understand the opposite in the show.) Leo will also often take killing blows for his brothers, that's how they are still alive. Since Splinter doesn't want to kill Leo, he will often stop the swing before it lands of halfway through so Leo doesn't die. Leo basically uses his own body as a shield.

Anyway that's it mostly, we all made a bit of art, and one-shots for this au that never got posted cause it's a shared au, it would be awkward.

Umm I'm literally writing this at 1am, yes I'm aware that this all sounds ridiculous, especially how I'm writing it. But I do like this au, cringe for the winnn!!! There is more lore shit that I can't remember. And a lot of the stuff that we wrote about it was good (not mine though, that was shit.)

So yeah, heres our shitty au. Ta-da!

Oh yeah I forgot to tag @writing-biting who was one of the people who helped make the au lol.

[barbiecrocs]

The blonde bastard

Laurent Thierry

tags! teasing, begging, switching, oral(male receiving), blow job, hand job, edging, sex so good it got Laurent speaking French, alcohol consumption, low key sadistic reader, "I wanna break him"

WC. 3450

Barbie's note... Hey yall🧍‍♀️... So I know I haven't posted in a while and that yall are fed up with not having material, but I've been going through the craziest writer's block ever. Then this idea came to mind after I watched Great Pretender and everything just came out because this show has been my personality for a while😭😭. Anyway, that's all, enjoy the new year!!

You gulp as you turn your back on the consequence of making a deal with a confidence man. “The clock started ten minutes ago, mon amour. Time is ticking.” You look over your shoulder to where the voice is coming from, only to be met with Laurent entirely at your mercy, his wrists tied together behind the chair, ankles tied to the legs, and his long, heated length standing proudly by itself. A sigh leaves your mouth as you think, ‘How did I get here?’

—

“Cynthia, stop laughing! We’re being serious!” You and Edamura pout as you stop drinking the half-full glass of wine he poured for you. “Oh, I know, and I feel you. Wouldn’t we all like to make the blonde bastard fall to his knees one day? But I just can’t stop myself from laughing. Your plan is too simple. Don’t you think he’ll see right through it?” Your mouth opens to combat her, but Edamura takes the words from your mouth. “How is it simple? We’d turn on him mid-heist, take the money for ourselves, get paid by his enemies to rat out his location, and turn on them by sending them to a location with fake police and get paid off there because they don’t want to go to jail. If that doesn’t scream intricate and complicated, then I don’t know what does.” He slams on the table with each sentence to emphasize the deceitfulness of your scheme as you nod along, but none of it phases Cynthia as she sighs. “I’m only going to tell you guys this once because I don’t even like the idea, but the only plausible way to get him on his knees is sexually. Which will already be hard to do, but I don’t see him swallowing his pride otherwise.” Your breath hitches with her response, and your hands fly to hide the hot blush creeping onto your cheeks. The way that she says it without blushing or getting shy has you feeling like such a dork compared to her.

 “This is where I leave the conversation, but mark my words, we’ll get him.” Edamura finishes his drink and sets it back on the table, leaving the cleaning to you. You don’t notice it, but Cynthia watches you like a hawk as you bid Edamura goodnight and down the rest of your wine. “Would you like another one?” She asks, and you nod yes, “Don’t think I could have this conversation any other way. So another glass it is.” You smile, already feeling the buzzing and heat flutter to your face. When she’s finished pouring, your lips immediately make contact with the rim of the glass as an inquiry floats into your head. Feeling bold off of liquid courage, you pop the question. “Why would you know that about him anyway?” She’s halfway through refilling her glass when you catch her by surprise. She tilts her head in confusion, still not catching on before her eyes go wide with realization, “Oh god! If you’re implying what I think you’re implying, then you’d be wrong. Trust me, we haven’t done anything like that. You have him all to yourself, hun.” You’re unsure if the heat dusting your cheeks is a blush or a drunk buzz, but you cover your face in embarrassment. “I mean, you do want him, yes?” A warm silence passes through as you think long and hard about what you really want from him. “I want to break him, his pride, wipe that playful smirk off his face, and make him genuinely beg for something. Show him that he’s not so high and mighty and knows everything just because he always acts like it. I just want to knock him down a couple of notches. The satisfaction I would have if I could do that.” You snap out of your trance when your rambling stops, only to see Cynthia looking at you as if she saw a ghost. Her mouth’s agape, her eyes wide open, and her brows almost touching her forehead. “Oh… Never in a million years would I have imagined that somebody like you would go into so much detail about something like that.” You immediately cover your mouth and begin to sink into your seat on the couch, scared that you overshared or said something completely out of pocket for even a cons man. Just then, she eagerly leans in like a nosey little kid, hands on her knees to keep herself from falling forward. “How do you plan on doing that, though?” As if to save you from the question, the man in consideration walks in unbeknownst to your attention. Cynthia begins to chug the rest of her drink before leaving the glass for you to clean up and gracefully gets up from her seat on the other side of the glass coffee table. Before you can ask where she’s going, the voice least you expected to hear at the moment makes itself known.

 “A little get-together, and I wasn’t invited. How cruel. Let me guess. Edamame was here, huh? I can understand why he wouldn’t tell me, but you? I thought we were closer than that, bavarde.” He scans the area, seeing only two empty glasses before sitting half a foot away from you and pouring some wine into the glass that Edamura used. A stiff calmness passes through the air as you watch him take a refreshing swig of the expensive wine Cynthia bought. You don’t notice it, but you end up staring so hard that he catches on, watching your eyes drink in the sight of him piece by piece. Staring at his lips as they turn a slight shade of the deep red wine, his fingers as they firmly but delicately hold the glass to his mouth, and lastly, his eyes, which you only just now noticed were watching you back, causing him to smirk. The glass clinks onto the table as he turns his body towards you, laying an arm around the back of the couch. “So, you want to break me, huh?” You choke on your wine before finally finding your grounding, “I- I’m going to hit the hay-” You shoot up from your seat, but he grabs onto your wrist and pulls you down on his lap, “Oh no, don’t do that because I’d actually like to take you up on your interest.” He slides an arm around your waist, and a hand comes under your thigh to spread your legs. “I’d love to see what you can do, but I have one condition.”

—

If you can’t make me completely submit in thirty minutes, then I get to show you what I can do.

Of course, you pushed for forty minutes since you said it was unfair that he was way more experienced than you. So you might have just fucked yourself before he could with this deal. Still, you fight the urge to leave him tied up and run so you don’t go down without a fight.

 After briefly giving it some thought, you finally make your move by slowly stripping everything but your underwear and straddling a very bored Laurent’s hips. You make sure not to slide his length inside but leave its aching self behind your butt. “Finally, something is happening. You know, you’ve wasted a mighty fine ten minutes sitting there-” You interrupt him, wasting no more time on thoughts and words, and begin leaving kisses along his jawline. “Oooooh. Spicy first move.”

 “Shut up.” You say and begin putting your hands to work. One squeezes his cheeks together to prevent him from speaking, and the other sneaks behind you and gently rubs circles on his tip. He jerks up into your hand, and you nip his jaw as punishment, which isn’t the last time that happens. Precum begins to bead on his tip, and you gather some on your finger before putting it in your mouth while maintaining the finest eye contact. Laurent’s head falls back before you feel him buck under you. “Mhm!” You hear him bite back in his most tranquil voice. You smirk and pause your actions, “Hm? What was that?” He looks at you in muted shock from the way that you almost don’t sound like yourself. Then he sees the cloudiness in your eyes and puts two and two together that you’re tipsy. “Who are you?” You snicker at the genuineness in his voice, “The person who is going to break you.” With that answer, you slide off his lap, leaving a wet spot on one of his thighs, before dropping to your knees in front of him. You gulp before looking up at him, wondering if this is a good idea, only for him to give you a smug smile that boosts your confidence. Taking his dick into your hands, you spit on the tip as both of you watch the thin stream of warm liquid slide down to his balls, “That tickles!” You ignore his complaint and start stroking at a slow pace after spitting a couple more times regarding his pleasing length. You hum in arousal as your mouth entertains itself with his inner thighs, pressing soft kisses onto them before surprising him with a couple of nips.

 “Nice try, but easing your way into this at snail speed isn’t going to break me how you want it to.” You refuse to look his way, already knowing the expression he’ll be wearing if you do, the same shit-eating grin he always has. Viewing what he said, you have no problem brewing another idea.

 Feeling bolder than the last time, you don’t hesitate to start phase two of your plan. You stop nipping Laurent’s thigh and begin kissing your way to the tip of his shaft. Only then do you tease the tip gently with your teeth before finally taking it between your lips. And your lips are the only thing it touches. You focus on not bobbing your head and strictly kitten-licking the tip. He jerks up into you only to run into your teeth like a brick wall preventing him access. “If you want my mouth so bad, ask for it.” You glance at him and see his head tilted back as if the decision put his life on the line. But in reality, he was just trying to give himself time to cool down and let time fly by with his pride still intact. 

The knee-jerk reaction to look at you when you lick a line up his shaft for his attention wins, and he almost gives you a facial immediately. ‘What a sight for sore eyes.’ He thinks to himself. His eyes start at the bottom, where your legs are gathered neatly under you, then your ass which you poked out for him so generously before finally moving up to your lips that glistened with spit and precum. ‘Fuuuuuck!’ He thought to himself. He wasn’t sure if it was the liquid courage in your veins or if you were just a different person when you were horny, but he was confident that you were not the same shy tsundere he was talking to in the hotel’s living room. That shy person would never touch him like this. That tsundere wouldn’t have even admitted to wanting to break him. But he’s here now, so there is something that he undoubtedly doesn’t know or have right about you. 

You grab his attention by tapping his thigh since the licking wasn’t making him decide any faster. He redirects his eye line from your lips to your eyes, only to be met with the beautiful stare that captured him the first time you met him in a casino where you single-handedly scammed some rich guy for all he was worth. He clears his throat, trying to sound like he wasn’t about to pop if you breathed on him too hard. “Please, Y/n.” He asks. You frown, knowing you should be satisfied with what he gave you, but deep down, it feels like it’s not enough. Sure, he said please, but he still has that damn smug smile on his face, and he couldn’t even throw in the extra neediness you wanted. You want him to beg like it’s going to save his life, like if you don’t touch him, he’s going to die of yearning and blue balls. You need to rip that smile off his face and fast.

“I know you can do better than that, Laurent. Otherwise, I’d have to leave you high and dry. And you wouldn’t want that, would you?” You egg him on by sucking his tip harder than usual as you watch his stomach dip and do flips. He pushes out a heavy sigh of relief before you put his pleasure on hold once again and start kissing around where he needs you the most. Just when you start kissing up his length again, “Fuck, please don’t leave me hanging, bavarde.” You freeze from hearing the genuineness in his voice, and your head snaps up at him, expecting to see Laurent torn to shreds with his hair sticking to his forehead and panting faster than his ability to get a word out. But you’re met with a slightly different-looking smile. His brows furrow together while his lips shake up a tiny storm, and his teeth that you can barely see through his almost closed mouth grind together, ‘This is the hottest he’s ever looked.’

You smile at him and spit on his tip before gulping him down inch by inch until your nose reaches his pubic area. Trying your best not to gag, you move slowly while your fingers work magic that you didn’t even know you had on his balls, smiling when you hear his nails claw on the end of the armrest. “Thaf fewl gud?” You tease. Only to feel another heartbeat deep inside once you see his chest rise and fall quickly with his teeth encasing his bottom lip to suppress his heavy, serene groans, “C'est tellement bon, bébé.” He pants out, finding himself physically incapable of breaking eye contact with you even though he knows that’ll only make him finish faster. It’s just the euphoric way his cock slides down your warm, wet, and tight throat with ease that makes him want to explode a thousand times.

 ‘Not experienced my ass!’ He complains, regretting that he chose to go easy on you and allow you extra time. Now, he’s dangerously close to cumming down your throat as you suck all his pride away. And him cumming isn’t even the problem. It’s the matter that he held his head up so high, thinking that you wouldn’t even know what to do if you got near his dick. Then he was going to make you scream all night long once your little forty minutes were up, and you’d just keep on coming back to him when you were sexually frustrated because, in his head, there’s no way or anyone that can fuck better than him. And he was the best of all the girls he's fucked, but that other part. Oh, he is so wrong. And you’re only going to make it harder for him.

You start bobbing faster once you get comfortable with his size, even going as far as to take the opportunity to try out some stuff that you heard makes it more pleasurable for guys. You try moaning around him to produce vibrations, give him the salt and pepper to create friction when your mouth gets tired, and even ever so slightly rake your teeth along his shaft, which he wasn’t a big fan of, so you go back to the first two. “Are you close?” You ask after feeling his leg tense multiple times. “Je suis si proche.” He nods with his answer, knowing that you still aren’t as fluent as Cynthia in French, only to regret being so kind when you pull off of him. “Beg me to cum. You can’t cum otherwise.” You say, laying your head on his thigh while letting your fingers ghost up and down his very sensitive shaft. His head tilts back for the first time in a while, but you already know he’s trying to stall and let time run out. So you take it a step further and give your sore knees a rest by sitting on the end of his legs so his dick is in front of you. “No stalling. I need an answer now.” He takes no shame in staring when you start rubbing your panty-clad cunt against his erection, listening to each moan you throw in when the friction against your bundle of nerves becomes too much. “Come on, Laurent.” Words that sound like a siren’s song when said in this scenario, and he’s praying to god that he doesn’t give in when you move your panties to the side, exposing your glistening clit to the cold air. You lean forward, laying your head on his shoulder while gently grinding into and stroking his length, letting any shlick that oozes from your pussy melt onto him. “I’m waiting, Laurent.” You hear his breath hitch, and thinking you are getting a response out of him, you pop up. Only to realize that it was just him shying away from you with his eyes shut tight. Frustration begins to cloud your mind, and you grab him by his jaw, forcefully turning his head back over to you. “Laurent, you’re cheating. Honestly, I should win by default-”

 “Fuck!” He stiffly shoots out. “My… My answer is no!” Your teeth begin to grind until you feel his cock twitch with need in your hand. Realization and confidence paint a smile across your face, “Are you sure? Because your mind is trying desperately to resist my touch, but your body is falling victim to it so hard.” He shakes out of your grip and looks away once more, “I am sure.” You groan, “Then you leave me no choice.” You stroke him a couple of times before lining his dick up at your entrance, taking three fingers to transfer your shlick to the tip of his cock for easier access. The sensation is mythical in he has to clench every muscle in his body to not jerk into you, knowing that he’s going to explode during penetration. “Say goodbye to your pride. There is no way in hell you can come back after cumming on the first up and down.” You probe him at the entrance a few times, getting ready to sink onto him, but before you can. ‘Bloob, bloob, bloob, bloob, bloob.’ rings three times on the Apple watch Laurent is wearing. A heavy sigh is exiled from his mouth as all you can think is how close you were while untying him.

 But it’s hard to feel bummed when you catch a hot glimpse of Laurent greedily finishing himself off. His head lolling back onto the back of the chair with his bangs sticking to his forehead due to the sweat. Both of his hands double-fisted his length as fast but gently as possible before deciding that one was enough and started tweaking his nipples with the free hand. Then, his long legs stretch out, taking up more room than needed as they twitch with each jerk. And lastly, the string of curses that you swore you’ve heard your name floating around once or twice, which you certainly did. 

He delivers his last thrusts into his hand before cumming and collapsing back into the chair with a more fucked out expression than before. You roll your eyes and start gathering your clothes, “What are you doing?” He asks, immediately hopping out of his chair as if he didn’t just have the most insane and unhinged-looking orgasm ever. “I’m getting dressed to head back to my room, obviously. Why else would I be getting dressed? To sit around here? No.” You retort, prepping your shirt to put it on.“You must not remember the other half of the deal.” 

“Nope, I remember it just fine. I just figured that since you orgasmed right now, you’d be all done for the night.” You’d think he saw you as a clown or comedian because before you got the last word out, he was hysterical while rolling on the floor laughing. “No, no, no, no, no. That isn’t how this is going to play out because I have stamina and libido for days, and I haven’t had sex for a while, but I do have you here. Ready to play. And I'd be the dumbest man alive to watch you walk out of here after the torture you just put me through. So I think it’s time that I show you what I can do.”

Should I post part two?😵‍💫😋

[daengtokki]

Your story is like the first one I’ve been so deeply captivated by when it comes to serial killer shit, like I can’t explain it. Sure I’ve read yandares and silly ghost face skz story’s, but this one made me feel…disgusted? Like I’ve never had a fictional story about skz make me feel so grossed out. I don’t want you to take it as a negative thing, and if you do i apologize 🩷

I’ve read sooooo many fics through three years and I was a little bit skeptical when I first read the “serial killer! Seungmin” but I’m glad I kept reading cause I’m so excited for the next part.

What I meant by the “it grossed me out” part, is the scene where he killed the man? I don’t know why but I dead ass almost threw up, might be cause I’m sick and the only thing I’ve been consuming are medications. But holy fuck dude, I had to step away😭

Also!! I got so, frustrated? And confused? When she DIDNT LEAVE THE COUNTRY!? A MAN JUST KILLED YOU FOR LIKE TWO MINUTES AND YOURE OVER HERE KISSING HIS LIPS AND WHAT NOT.

But I think that’s what makes a story good! The minute a fic I’m reading is making me feel some kind of emotions, better bet I’m reading until the fkn end.

Anyway, pardon my rant, and again I really hope you don’t take it as offensive, but if you do I’d totally get it tbh.

Stay safe and healthy! Lots of love🩷🌺

Sorry I took so long responding, but I really had to gather my thoughts for this one. Apologies for it being so long and for me basically taking an opportunity to unload.

All of the "negative" parts popped out because I was so tired and out of it. And I was like “oh no please don’t hate please don’t hate the story” 😭 ㅋㅋ ㅋ I'm out of it today, too, so hopefully I type this up properly.

But I don’t take your comments negatively! My job as a writer is to make you feel all of the emotions my characters are dealing with.

So thank you for taking the time to write all of this out! Seriously. I'm a little floored anyone (this goes for everyone who has sent a message or left a long comment about the fic) has been reading thoughtfully enough to catch everything l've been putting into the story. We’ll be getting more into readers fucked up head very soon, since you mentioned that!

I’m glad these not so pretty parts have gotten a reaction out of you, because I’ll take that as me writing the scenes well! That’s very important to me as a writer, and as someone who has always taken writing seriously. I love writing simple fanfic that you guys can lose yourself in, because that’s why I picked up ff again after stopping for many years. And because of Seungmin, ofc. But this is also why I was very nervous about posting DEITY even though I’ve been wanting to do serial killer!Seungmin for months now. I knew it couldn’t be simple, but I had no idea it would already be this long halfway through (almost 50k words). After writing the intro and getting into the first part, I decided to just write an entire novel. I already had the plot in my head.

I don’t see many stories like this on tumblr, but I also don’t read much (I’m not exaggerating when I say all of my free time is spent writing) so putting something darker out there that wasn’t just oneshot smut was a little scary. I’m aware that’s what get most of the attention on here (short stuff, ott smut, ~imagines, etc) and why even though I have readers like you, I don’t have much in the way of likes and reblogs. It does get discouraging, but I’m pushed forward when I think about all of you reading each part.

So ANYWAY. Sorry this got so long. Thank you so much for your reblogs and your comments on those reblogs. It’s so important to me and the other writers on tumblr.

And thank you Seungmin for being my muse. I wouldn’t be writing every day again without you making me so delusional.

Again, sorry if this is too much and none of it makes sense. I took too much of one of my meds today and I’m very dizzy and lethargic from it.

[loquaciousquark]

hi! i’ve been a fan of your writing since da2 and i’m so glad you’re playing bg3 now too. it’s been really interesting following your play throughs and character choices and how that ties in with your fic. i know you went with the choice to have astarion kill tav when he firsts bites her because it’s hilarious and i always want to do that, but i think i’d miss the scene after with the whole camp (and all the approval for defending him lol) and ahhhh i just don’t know! if you feel like it, i was wondering if you would talk more about your HCs around that choice and what to you makes it worth losing the morning after scene with everyone because i feel like it’s such an important group moment but… i want to punch him for killing me and also kind of slow things down with him so we stay just reluctant but oddly compelled allies for longer

Ahhh, what a fabulous question! Thank you so very much for this handcrafted opportunity to sit you down at my kitchen table with a cup of coffee and trap you for the next three and a half hours.

So the first bite scene ending in Tav's death wasn't actually intentional! I started playing BG3 in a three-person MP team with @eponymous-rose and @mystery-moose, and it so happened that my character (Tavish Gale, already ironclad) was the one who came across the boar and triggered the bite scene that night. By pure chance I rolled two natural ones on both those checks, and when it cut to the next morning and Tav was outright DEAD, we couldn't stop laughing! We had no idea what to expect or what the consequences would be, and when I switched to a SP campaign so I could horrifically binge this game like the gremlin I am, I felt compelled to recreate that glorious, character-defining moment.

However, as you note, that does mean you miss out on that lovely post-feed conversation where everyone says they're okay with him. On the other hand, you get that absolutely flat read of "Oh no. Something terrible happened here. :|" and then you get to punch him, so, you know, basically equal losses on either path. I know you get a ton of approval points after with the survival track, but I'm finding I'm not hurting for approval even in early game (I actually had to go and mod his approval 15 points lower about halfway through Act 1 this run because I was triggering his romance scene too early ahead of the party).

I actually need to probably sit down and write out the details of what happens here, but I do think a couple things take place. I know for sure that Tav fails the checks & doesn't fight it because she gets sucked into the feeling of relaxation and lethargy and the sense that nothing matters anymore. She spends most of Acts 1 & 2 fairly certain they're going to die any day, so why not live life to the fullest and do whatever you want in the moment without thinking about the consequences? If she's going to go out early anyway, why not to a relatively painless vampire bite instead of the agony of ceremorphosis? She probably realizes she's dying in those last seconds, but it's very much a "finally" instead of "oh no," so it's not really any skin off her nose.

I'm almost certain Astarion is shocked out of his mind when her heart stops. I don't think he realizes what's happened until he sits back and she's ice-cold and smiling, and his first instinct is to run off into the dark ASAP before everyone else wakes up and shanks him. Except because this happens IN THE MIDDLE OF CAMP, LARIAN, I think someone sees the whole thing go down and realizes Astarion didn't mean to do it and Tav was a brick-thick idiot who leaned all the way into her own death.

On pondering, I kind of think it was Shadowheart, who is utterly disgusted with both of them but who also knows she can bring Tav back with a scroll and does so without much drama. She'd be the kind of person to see what was going on, but who doesn't care enough to intervene or go "hey everything okay over here I can't help but notice you're engaging in some risky behavior", but who also wouldn't leap to TIME TO KILL ASTARION the moment it went too far.

I think Tav wakes up with a raging headache, and now that there are suddenly consequences she can't immediately brush off, she gets embarrassed and mad. Cue the punch, the argument, and probably everyone else waking up in the aftermath. Lae'zel initially wants to boot him from the group, I think, but Tav's anger burns out pretty quick (and she's pretty aware of her own failures to stop him), and she points out that if they're going to saddle themselves with Wyll's, Gale's, and her own baggage, it'd be pretty hypocritical to dump Astarion over his. So we still get some defense of him to the group, and I think Karlach (and probably Wyll, and honestly maybe Shadowheart who saw his fear) would be onboard with keeping him around pretty quickly. Promises never to do it again, keep your teeth to yourself, etc.

Astarion I think spends this entire conversation very, very scared and doing everything he can to hide it. I think he's completely overwhelmed by euphorically feeding on a thinking creature for the first time and then completely horrified by killing her - not because he likes her but because what if this is why Cazador commanded us not to, what if I can't control myself on my own without his compulsion, what if I really am the beast he's always said. He's panicking from the outrageous swings of emotion and talking really quickly and trying to put up a bold front, but inside he's about half a hair from snapping off into the woods and never coming back.

I think it's the punch that kind of shocks him out of the spiral, and then Tav then defending him to the group helps him flip into the "well obviously I deserve to stay and in fact to kick me out of the group would be not only stupid, but deadly" mode long enough to get through the night. He tries to put on the usual devil-may-care indifference, even though everyone can see through it, and they have a tense few days where everyone's pretending everything is fine even though it's really, really not.

Astarion & Tav are also avoiding each other religiously here, until something happens in a battle (the harpies, I think) and one of them gets injured because of that avoidance. That night, Tav stakes him to the ground and makes them talk about it. I think this is where she says she's not actually averse to him feeding on her and in fact asks him to do it that night - to get them both over the hump of what happened the first time. Astarion needs to feed without fear & she needs to not get swept up in the lethargy, and if he's going to get back to the sneering equilibrium he ought to have in the first and second acts, he needs to be successful at this and he needs to feel like he's won, or at least like he has an edge over her again. She's a little transparent about wanting to be bled in part to help him get back to this position of control, and in part because she does like forgetting the weight of reality, and in part because, again, they're gonna die in like twelve hours, surely, so who cares?

Anyway, it goes as well as it can for the two of them, even if they're both a little prickly throughout, and by the end they're a lot more comfortably back in that manipulative space they prefer. From there it moves on compliantly with canon into the party leadup (Loviatar and such) and then the party itself, and then progresses as scheduled with the rest of the game.

Ahh, it's so fun to think about these kinds of things. I'll continue to ponder, but I think this is either it for them or very close. Thank you so much for asking and for letting me ruminate! <3