#between himself and the Inspector

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

It’s rather a common theme in science fiction that when an old enemy wants to get the protagonist’s attention, he or she simply threatens all of humanity.

The Tinker did so, just to ramp up the stakes between himself and the Inspector, knowing all too well that the Inspector’s Associate would involve herself in the matter, for as long as she was necessary.

[hephaestuscrew]

Thinking about the protective way Clara tells Fleet not to go into DeVries' dangerous-looking training set-up, and about how when Septimus mentions Fleet's friend Fleet's immediate assumption is that he must mean Clara, and about "This is Miss Clara Entwhistle, my partner - in business, my business partner." / "I'm also his friend, but he doesn't like to say it.", and about how Fleet rarely smiles but he smiles to himself at Clara having a good idea (and Clara notices the change in his expression), and about how Clara is trying to work out Fleet's birthday through a process of elimination, and about how Fleet tries twice to shut down the conversation with Frances Byrne that's making Clara uncomfortable, and about how panicked and angry he sounds after realising she's been poisoned...

[aquamarineglow]

[mariocki]

Simon Templar meets his match in the shape of Roger Delgado, as Peruvian police chief Captain Rodriguez in The Saint: Locate and Destroy (5.12, ITC, 1966)

[arcanarix]

pussydrunk geto who can’t ever, EVER get enough of yours

your perfect pussy is all he thinks about, to the point where it distracts him from his typical duties because the only thing motivating him to get all of this extra shit out of the way is getting to come back to you and to bury himself between your legs until he makes a whole ass lake of your arousal before he does it again while you’re squirting endlessly on his cock. crying and begging for him to keep going even if you’re completely spent because you just fucking loooooove his attention and he’s so happy to give it to you.

even while he’s in the middle of exorcising dumb monkey clients or some shit he’s thinking about you on his shoulders while you’re grinding on his tongue and he’s making that perfect pussy rain all over the fucking floor and he doesn’t care because his monkey goons can just clean the shit up (or he can too, he’ll happily do that, you have no idea how happy he is to be your dirty nasty dog). or he’s thinking about spreading your pussy and displaying it to his monkey fucker goons and making them all wish they can have what they can’t, fucking you stupid on his fingers while they worship him

or he just wants to play pussy inspector and punish you a little for pleasuring yourself if he believes you have while he’s away and you play along of course, because of course all he wants is an excuse to lose himself in his favorite pussy until all of his face, his hands and his cock is all drenched in your juices

[runnning-outof-time]

Hiiii, thank you so much for all of these they are so wonderful.

I would love something with Tommy and maybe 30? "You're not hurt are you?"

Was thinking maybe Tommy comes home after a particularly trying day and just flops onto the couch. Y/N comes home from food shopping shortly after and finds him and is concerned for him. They can be either married or whatever you see fit.

Uhmm I'd love it to be nice and fluffy, and I know you said you're not into writing shut sooo just go as heavy as you feel comfortable with and coat it with fluff and I'll be happy. >w< thank you so much I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to be part of this celebration with you! 💜

Thanks so much for sending this in, @chumon ! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write! I absolutely love this idea (thanks for adding some more detail to it…it made it easy to follow). I hope you like what I did with it! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Never Tired For You

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: a slightly suggestive conversation/situation

Word Count: 1153

Summary: (Y/N) finds Tommy laying on the couch and immediately thinks the worst…he couldn’t just be laying down, right?

Tommy was tired. It had only been two days into his two week stay in London, and he already felt exhausted by the numerous meetings he had to carry out. There was so much to keep track of: the on-going deal with Alfie Solomons and all of the turns that took, making sure Arthur continued to keep things in line at the Eden Club, and keeping tabs of whatever Inspector Campbell was going to have him do next.

Somehow he managed to carve out an afternoon to himself. He was hoping to spend it with his wife, (Y/N), who had joined him on this trip — against his own volition — but upon returning to his sister’s home, he found that she wasn’t in.

So he decided to lay down on the couch. Yes, Tommy Shelby actually took a moment for himself so that he could rest. No, the world didn’t come to an end. But he actually managed to find a position comfortable enough that made him want to stay on the couch.

(Y/N) had been out grocery shopping. She realized that Ada needed a few things, and so with nothing better to do she set out and ran some errands.

The surprise that was waiting for her back at the house just about made her drop the basket she was carrying. Never had she seen her husband laid out on the couch — especially in the middle of the day. The sight of it alone was enough to get her mind running in overdrive.

“Tommy? What’s happened?” she got right to the point as she hurried over to the couch he was laying on.

“Huh?” he asked in confusion, beginning to move from his laying position so that he could sit once more.

“No, don’t move,” she rushed to stop him, her one hand extended in his direction, “you’re not hurt, are you?” Asking the question made her heart drop. She’d did a quick scan of his frame and found nothing glaring at her, but she couldn’t be too sure.

“No, love, I’m not,” he shook his head, continuing with his motions of sitting up, looking up at her with furrowed eyebrows. “I was just laying down,” he told her then, fishing the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket so that he could slide one between his lips.

The second half of his statement made (Y/N) audibly gasp. There’s no way that Tommy Shelby would willingly lay down, she thought to herself incredulously. “Ok now I’m worried, Tom. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes,” he chuckled at her worry, “there’s not a scratch on me. I’ve just had a long day is all,” he made another attempt to quell her concerns. The look on her face told him that she didn’t quite buy it. “Would you like to check for yourself?” he asked then, his one eyebrow quirking upwards as a grin teetered on his lips.

She could tell by his facial expression that his question was leaning on the suggestive side of things. Just the thought of what he was hinting at made heat rush to her cheeks. His cheekiness was one of the things she loved about him.

“Hmm?” Tommy cut into her thoughts, looking up at her through his eyelashes as he waited for her response.

“No…” she trailed off, biting her bottom lip to conceal her grin when she saw a tinge of disappointment fill his features, “I think I’ll believe you. And besides…you said you had a long day,” she called back to his previous statement.

“I had a long day…doesn’t mean I’m too tired for me wife,” he reminded her, the previous glint returning to his eyes.

“Maybe later,” she decided, her grin growing to match his.

“C’mere then,” he beckoned, leaning back against the couch as he placed the cigarette between his lips again.

“Let me put these away first,” she answered him, lifting the basket she was still holding. He nodded in response and she went to the kitchen to put the groceries away. Moments later, she was back in the front room curled up into Tommy’s side. “So you’ve really only had a long day?” she couldn’t help but bring their previous conversation up again.

“Yes,” he answered, his fingertips absentmindedly dancing over the skin of her arm. “Arthur’s losing it at the club again…I’m not sure what I’m going to do with him.”

“Give him another chance,” (Y/N) suggested, lifting her head from his shoulder when she felt his eyes on her. “I mean it,” she doubled down on her stance, her eyes locked with his.

Tommy pursed his lips and thought about her comments for a moment before he let out a breath and looked to the windows.

“I’ll drop it,” she broke the silence, realizing that his mind was going again. She didn’t want to ruin this moment. “Let’s go back to just sitting here.”

After speaking, she turned on the couch so that she was able to straddle his lap. His hands quickly found their home on her hips, and his eyes were immediately back on hers as the mischievous glint returned.

“Just sitting here, eh?” he questioned her with raised eyebrows.

“I’m sitting,” she grinned, her hands finding his cheeks before she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Tommy’s hands moved to press flat against her back as their kiss deepened, bringing her body flush against his.

“If this is what it’d be like…” he breathed as they pulled away just slightly, “I’ll have to start coming home early more often.”

“If you hold up your end of the bargain, I’ll hold up mine, Mr. Shelby,” (Y/N) pulled further away from him so that he could see the smile present on her face.

Their lips met again, teeth clashing and tounges pressing together as they became lost in their embrace. Tommy tried to be sneaky with it, but (Y/N) pulled away when she felt him start to unbutton the top of her dress.

“Not so tired anymore, hmm?” she questioned, a suggestive glint in her eye as she sat up straight, her hands running down his cheeks so that she could settle them on his shoulders.

“Never tired for you, love,” he husked, his eyes blown with lust as he managed to continue with his mission despite her breaking further away from him.

“Let’s go to our room then. I don’t think Ada’d want us to do this on her couch.”

That was all Tommy needed to stop what he was doing and drop his hands from her frame. “Go on, then,” he nodded his head to her, “lead the way.”

(Y/N) wasted no time in standing from his lap. She waited for him to stand also before she gingerly took hold of his hand and led him to the steps and up to their room.

*tags in the reblogs so they’ll hopefully get sent out

MASTERLIST

[eggiesins]

Sandrock Bachelors Being Drunk

Mild NSFW so Minors DNI

My first head canon post, enjoy!

Arvio

Arvio already has no idea what inhibition is so expect his personality to intensify by 200% while his ability to actually come up with schemes drops by 200%.  He’s gonna have so many half-baked terrible ideas that he will immediately try to act upon, so be ready to keep him on a kid leash to avoid some really dumb incidents.  “Builder!  I just had the best idea for how to get more investors for By the Stairs, but we have to act fast!  I’m hopping on the next train to Atara right n- what do you mean it can wait til morning??”  Arvio already slurs his words, so drunk Arvio I could see being almost unintelligible.  Once he’s drunk enough, he’ll constantly flip back and forth between beaming over how much he loves the builder and sobbing over Fang’s most recent rejection.

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE rizz

Amirah helps at first, but clocks out of babysitting after the first hour of shenanigans.  Good luck Builder.  He’s your responsibility now.

Burgess

Sweet, sweet summer child Burgess.  He’s not much of a drinker, but would easily be peer pressured into drinking games, especially if the Builder wants him to play.  Others offer to drink for him if he wants, but Burgess insists that, as the Chief Water Inspector, his high hydration levels and position of bureaucratic authority give him a high enough tolerance to make it through the whole game.  They do not.  Sweet baby boy’s never been drunk before and has no idea how to handle it, so be ready to babysit this one too.  He’s gonna cry over how beautiful the cactus flowers are in full bloom, how Banjo jumped in his lap and started purring, and how you’re an angel from the Light sent to save Sandrock.  Keeping him hydrated is easy, but if he does throw up, he’ll never forgive himself for the wasted water.

He’s very good at listening to the Builder’s instructions and advice on sobering up, though.  Of all the drunks on this list, he’s the easiest to comfort and get to bed by far.

Drunk Burgess is a “sinner” (by his perspective) & 100% gives Pen the “you’re a bully but I forgive you” speech instead of turning the other cheek or forgiving immediately.

Ernest

It’s been a while for him.  Did he drink and party with Luna back in Atara?  100%, but since arriving at Sandrock, he’s been so busy with hyper fixating on Logan and trying to survive droughts and sandstorms, there hasn’t been much of an opportunity for him to just let loose and party.  Once he finally does, though?  Mans is writing sonnets on sonnets on sonnets.  None of them rhyme, or even make sense, but he gives them his all anyway.  “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”  “Ernest, you said that one already.”  “Did I?  I guess every time I see you, I seem to just forget everything else.”

Ernest is pretty open about flirting with the Builder normally, so when he’s drunk, expect to hear it way way more.  He’s gonna rizz up that Builder as well as his drunk brain can ‘cause he absolutely LOVES seeing them blush because of him.  He’s all talk though, well aware that when he’s drunk, neither he nor anyone else should take him seriously.  He’s just having fun!

Fang

I could see Fang going one of two ways when drunk: either he realizes he’s drunk and immediately goes to sleep regardless of location OR his walls come down and you get to see an almost completely unfiltered Fang.  When his walls come down, oh man, Arvio better watch out.  If Arvio were to try any shenanigans, Fang is definitely telling him to shut up and sit down.  He’s grumpy normally, so drunk Fang would be much more likely to express that grumpiness.  It’s not that he’s a mean drunk so much as he is just more comfortable expressing himself under the effects of liquid courage.

If he’s with the Builder, he becomes soooooo clingy and jealous.  “The feel of your touch, unforgettable.”  Yeah he’s not giving up the feel of your touch while he feels confident enough to truly demand it.  If the builder is standing, he’s right behind them with arms around their waist.  If the builder is sitting, his head is on their shoulder, hand on their thigh, glaring down other townies who get too close.  

X lowkey loves when Fang gets drunk because it means he doesn’t have to filter what he says either, not that he does it too much normally.  He definitely eggs Fang on if the kind doctor happens to be roasting someone (Arvio) like a squawking mini-hypebeast.  At the same time, X helps the builder out a lot with getting Fang to drink water and go to sleep.

He has a very low tolerance, 4 drinks max

Justice

Our favorite Sheriff and tiredest dad of all the bachelors, Justice definitely knows how to drink.  One of his best friends is the local saloon owner, so yes, Justice has a pretty high tolerance.  With that, Justice tends to be pretty mellow when he drinks, but if he’s with the builder, he’s getting flirty too.  He’s gonna lean hard into the cowboy aesthetic, with a fake tip of the hat before asking the builder to dance.  During the dance Justice is pulling the builder close enough to stand on his feet (so he doesn’t drunkenly stumble on them) & going all the way with the spins and twirls.  He’s not elegant by any means, but he is fun!  He’s giggly and having a good time (probably annoying Logan).

If the builder is a friend, he’d insist on walking them home to see them off safely before stumbling back to his house.  If the builder is more than a friend, Justice is definitely laying on the rizz  and trying to get laid down at the workshop.

[insert “hmm society” question about life here] (seriously though, why do all the civil corps members wax philosophical so often?)

Logan

We all know the yakboy only dances when he drinks, but what else will he do when drunk?  Logan has a temper, yes, but he’s also a soft gooey ball of affection with the people he cares about, and that dichotomy is on full display when he drinks.  He avoids drinking games (they’re dumb & childish & he’s a grown man, damnit), but if the Builder wants to get up to drunken shenanigans?  Oh he’s in.  

“Darlin’, are you seriously tellin’ me ya wanna go build a scarecrow that looks like death to set up outside Cooper’s house ‘n scare him when he wakes up at 4am?”  “Ye”  “What do ya need me to do?”

Surprisingly, not a horny drunk at all (fanfic writers sue me).  BUT, he is an affectionate drunk with the builder.  Kinda like Fang, he’s all about the physical affection, especially in public.  The builder is his, and he’s gonna make sure it stays that way.  When they get home, he just wants to lay in bed with the builder in a cuddly vice grip til they both fall asleep.

He definitely relies on Rambo knowing the way home, just hops up, tells the goat where to go, and halfway passes out in the saddle.  He’s definitely getting roasted for being a lightweight by Andy when he gets home.

Miguel

How else would a religious fanatic obsessed with discipline act when drunk?  Off the rails ranting & outright simping for the builder.  Full stop.  I’m not even a Miguel fan and I know this man is so down bad for the builder.  He wouldn’t even want to drink initially, until the builder challenges him to a game.  “Very well, Builder.  For the person who has done the most to promote telesis in this barren land, I can surely raise a glass or two in celebration.”

Once he’s drunk, expect a strange combination of sermon and praise for the builder (he will definitely be mortified in the morning).  But if the builder even touches him by accident, he’s already hiding a sneaky semi tenting his pants.  

“Miguel…are you hard right now?”  “Builder, it would be a sin for me to deny the truth of this situation.  *proceeds to dramatically throw his jacket off*  Take me now, body and soul.”  “I mean, sure, but…can that wait til we can get home?”  “OH…………………..yes”

The next morning, while nursing a hell of a hangover and the raw, unfiltered embarrassment of drunken mistakes, he vows to never drink again.  At least, as long as the builder doesn’t ask him to.

Owen

Honestly?  I don’t see Owen acting too differently when drunk, just a lot less anxious when interacting with the builder.  Seemingly out of nowhere, his stuttering and nervous way of speaking with the builder is gone, replaced with a more confident barkeep.

He’s wicked good at drinking games, having spent his entire life inside of a saloon.  If you think you’re winning beer pong or rage cage against Owen’s 6 foot something ass, you’re wrong.  There’s a reason Justice and Logan outright refuse to play drinking games with him, and it’s cause it always ended with someone throwing up.  Never Owen, though.  He’s got a finely tuned tolerance for alcohol and knows exactly where his sweet spot is.  

He won’t really try to initiate any sexy times with the builder, but if they start dropping hints for him?  “Justice, can you watch the bar while I step out with the builder real quick?  They need some help..um…perfecting a new recipe.”  Cue Justice’s shit-eating grin.  “Sure pardner, take as long as y’all need” with a quick wink at the couple

Pablo

Is he drunk, or has he just been pretending to drink that much?  Who knows?  Pablo’s been around, especially in Walnut Groove.  He knows how to drink and even more so, he knows how to look how to drink especially.  He’s watching the town get absolutely smashed with glee, taking stock of everything that happens, especially anything embarrassing.

He’s the one who calls at 8am the next morning when you’re hungover to hell and back and tell you, in excruciating detail, every embarrassing thing you said and did, just in case you forgot.  All in all, I think he likes to drink a little, socially of course, but he’s far more interested in getting others drunk instead of himself.

Pen

Assuming that Pen can get drunk (he is sensitive to Duvos peppers), he’s gonna be glued to whatever the nearest reflective surface is.  But what actually surprises the builder is how genuinely affectionate he becomes with them, especially if they’re not officially a thing yet.  He wants them sitting in his lap so he can wrap their skinny arms in his big arms the entire time.

When he’s not being affectionate, he’s definitely trying to spar with them, though.  For Pen, fighting is very much foreplay, and this is even more true when he’s drunk.  He would already be turned on just by the builder existing, so a drunken brawl at 2am?  He’s the hardest he's ever been the entire time, full stop.  Bro is so hard from fighting the builder he has to take care not to fall flat on his face or he might break Pen jr.  

Pen avoids getting drunk because it also makes him feel guilty, at least some part of him.  He doesn’t necessarily like deceiving the builder (Sandrock he could take or leave tbh), but he has to so he can protect the life he wants for himself.  The builder changed a lot of that for him, so he feels a lot of guilt about keeping secrets.  Don’t be surprised if drunk Pen says he needs to confess something, only to go silent for 5 straight minutes before telling them he’s just hungry.

Qi

You know that meme about the guy’s roommate who blacks out and designs an entire airplane?  That’s Qi when he drinks, but with spaceships.  How did you get him to the saloon to start drinking in the first place?  Three words: Saloon Trivia Night.  Qi is competitive, and assumes that he’s usually at the top of his respective totem pole, so when Owen starts including trivia questions about archaeology, building, agriculture, etc, Qi can get frustrated relying on his team to answer for him.  And for every round lost, that’s another drink finished.  Soon enough, he’s ranting about the uselessness of “soft sciences” and the possibilities of interstellar space travel (someone please just make out with him and shut this nerd up)  The drunker he gets, the more he only excuses the builder’s mistakes and no one else’s.

This man definitely gets hot and bothered when drunk, but has no idea what he’s feeling or what to do about it, so he usually just goes to bed.  If the builder is romancing him, though?  The builder will definitely need to initiate things, but from there a now-uninhibited Qi goes off, following any and every instinct he can that the builder will allow.  He wants to try everything with them, for science of course.  

Unsuur

Regular Unsuur is honest, if a bit stoic.  Drunk Unsuur is too honest, and still kinda stoic.  As soon as he has a thought, he’s saying it, no filter.  It doesn't matter who he is talking to or what he is saying, he’s gonna let loose with whatever he’s thinking.  “Hey Cooper, why do you talk so much?  Like, you talk a lot.  Going on and on, kind of like I am now.  Why do you do that?”

“Unsuur, are you drunk?”

“Yeah.  Oh.  Builder, can I make love to you until you’re breathless and destroyed and the only word you know is my name?  I think you’d be really beautiful like that”

“Unsuur, we’re in public! Everyone can hear you right now.”

“Oh, yeah.  We should probably go home before doing that.  Pretty sure having sex in public is a crime.”

Aside from shamelessly flirting with the builder, Unsuur would also just wax philosophical to all the town pets in some corner of the saloon.  None of the other drunks there could keep up with his train of thought, but he doesn’t let that stop him.  Now Macchiato’s third eye is open, and he’s considering joining the civil corps under Captain.

I hope you guys enjoyed the headcanons! Let me know if you want to see the bachelorettes too! Yan has dialogue in the game about "mixing yakmel milk and catnip" so if y'all want any other headcanon posts, intoxicated or otherwise, let me know!

[fairyofshampgyu]

Why do you hate me?

Pairing: class president! kai x stoner! reader

genre: smut, crack

warning: sub! kai x dom! reader, use of drugs, sex whilst high, riding, humping, semi public, nipple play, corruption kink (?)

word count: 1.5k

“As you all know there was a big fight that went viral and was shared across numerous platforms between two students last week.”

Everyone excitedly burst into chatter and giggles, talking about the fight between choi beomgyu and choi soobin when they had—more of a hair pulling fight—over beomgyu stealing soobin’s last strawberry drink and throwing it over the fence.

“Please don’t film these kinds of situations or spread them. We’ll be looking out for the main perpetrators who filmed and spread this. It’d be helpful if anyone had any information. We should all be upstanders not bystanders!”

The whole class not so subtly, stares at Kang Taehyun, the said culprit and who filmed the entire fight, dealing out the whole, ‘exclusive’ recording to see who actually won for $20. He appears nonchalant though, sitting in his seat upright and also looking around the classroom in shock, feigning innocence.

“The two students have been dealt with accordingly and will both be in seclusion until further notice. Oh! Also the last concern raised with the committee was the littering issue going round. Please make sure to not leave your food or litter around and clean up after yourselves!” Huening Kai stood at the front of the class, enthusiastically and confidently delivering his speech as class president.

The students erupted into cheers and claps and whistles for their adored class president. Everyone loved huening Kai. It was hard not to when he was so friendly and good looking, greeting everyone with a wide smile as he passed the corridors, most squealing over his charisma.

However, you were one not so fond of his sunny disposition. You didn’t like how he adhered and maintained the rules whilst you actively tried to break them. You found his cheeriness and enthusiasm and the way people fawned over him quite irritating in actuality.

You rolled your eyes, turning to talk to your other stoner friend Taeyong about how annoying the class president was.

“With how much you talk about huening Kai, I’d think you actually have a crush on him or something.” Taeyong raises one of his pierced brows.

“What? As if!” You let out an incredulous scoff.

“I’m just saying you talk way too much about how you dislike him, never for a plausible reason. It feels like you’re actually obsessed with him. Your enemies to lovers arc?” Taeyong snickers.

“That literally doesn’t make any sense.” You elbow him in disgust and go on to chatting and complaining about something else.

Huening kai had caught your eye roll after his speech as he sat back in his seat, frowning and becoming overridden with confusion and sadness. He knew you had never liked him and he just couldn’t wrap his head around why, wanting to fix things with you so badly if he could.

“Oh! Kai!” The teacher stops him in the middle of the hallway, exhaling a breath of relief after finally catching up. “I’m really busy now so as class president could you go and look into some of the students hiding and smoking behind the art block all the time? We need to actually deal with this problem of drugs in our school. Inspectors are coming in soon we need to look good and not have them walking in seeing students smoking.”

“Sure thing, miss!”

“And make sure you report back to me the names of students there. Thank you, Kai.”

Huening Kai sighs, teachers always loved to dump their issues and own work on himself using it as an excuse that he was the class president and giving him way too much responsibility than he should have. He practically did everything around here and it could get quite stressful being so relied on at times.

Kai follows the trail of smoke he can see to the hidden part behind the art block. Everyone should be in class right now so he wonders who it is that is smoking.

When he makes it there his eyes catch yours, the only person here and he must say, he’s not that surprised.

“You should be in class right now with everyone else, y/n.”

You roll your eyes and stare at him with disgust, “Wow it’s the class president ready to ruin the mood again.”

Kai frowns, face resembling that of a kicked puppy and looking back at you with a pout, “Why do you hate me so much, y/n? Did I do something? Is there any way I can fix it?”

Your mouth parts in surprise, taken a back by how genuinely upset he seems about it. You can feel a little pang in your heart seeing him this way, feeling like you have to immediately change it and you don’t know why.

“Uhh…I don’t-I don’t hate you, Kai. I just-you’re not my favourite person in the world.”

He seems more upset by that, bottom lip jutting out.

“Um! I mean…I don’t know…We’re just very different people”

“I don’t mean to make you feel so unequal. As class president-“

You groan, “Do you ever give that a rest? Don’t you ever get bored of that?”

“Actually, it does get quite tiring and stressful sometimes being so depended and admired on by everyone, thinking that I can do everything. I guess you never really have though.” Huening kai comes to sit on the bench with you.

You pause in thought, placing the joint to your lips again, “You know what would make you feel better?”

“What?”

“This.” You wavered the joint.

“I-I shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’ll make you feel good, no one’s around.”

Huening Kai contemplates it with a worried glance, eventually giving into the temptation of it. “O-okay…just to try though.”

Kai accepts the joint with trembling fingers, looking at you to see if he's doing it right and taking a puff before spluttering and coughing and you laugh a little.

It's not a long before the weed starts to kick in as you both take turns passing the joint and taking drags, laughter and giggles mingling with the smoke that curled and enveloped you both.

Caught up in the hazy euphoria, both your eyes meet, locking in a trance-like gaze and your eyes flicker down to his pretty lips for a second and he does the same until something comes over you and you can’t resist, quickly leaning in and cupping his cheek, smashing your lips with his.

Yeah, It’s the drugs. You’ve definitely never thought about this moment before.

You make out with kai in a frenzy that matches both your heightened state, soft lips moving against each other and you move to straddle his lap instead, causing him to look up at you in surprise. You grin before trailing the rough kisses on his neck instead and he can’t contain his embarrassed whimpers anymore, cheeks so hot and flushed as you caressed one of them.

You can feel him growing harder underneath you and you pull him closer, grinding against him.

“Y-y/n!” Kai yelps and gasps, scrunching his eyes shut at the feeling and contact of his dick.

You do it again, his reactions so amusing. With a particular rough roll of your hips, kai’s eyes roll deeply back, gripping onto your hips until he starts to chase it as well, hips moving of their own accord and rutting against you with his mouth agape.

Huening kai’s usual well articulated, spoken and composed self long gone, easily replaced with flushed cheeks and a mixture of stammering breaths and whimpers and moans as you both continuously grind and hump against each other.

In a rush you undo his pants, his flushed and thick cock springing out and kai shyly hides in the crook of your neck. You take his dick, pushing your panties aside and slowly sink down on him, kai biting at your neck and moaning out loud.

Slowly you ride him, having to cover his mouth with your hand from how obvious he was being as tears welled up in his eyes.

You lean to whisper against his ear, nibbling at it and thumbing over his impossibly red cheeks, “You’re such a good boy.” Which only spurs him more on and his muffled whines.

You deliriously bounce on his cock, sounds so sticky and obscene, removing your hand and attaching your lips with his again and drinking up all his noises, quickening your movements to get him to the edge, hands going up his buttoned shirt to roll your fingers over his pretty tits.

“t-think m’close…”

“Cum for me.”

And he moans even louder than he has, hands gripping on your shirt for dear life and head lolling back, body trembling as his cum spills in your pussy and you moan as well, both your eyes filled with a dazed satisfaction.

He rests his forehead with yours and pants heavily, you ruffling his hair as his eyes still flutter open and shut, suddenly taking in the weight of what just happened.

“I-I know shouldn’t have…b-but I liked it.” Huening kai sheepishly stutters, still breathing heavily.

You smile, sheen of sweat on your forehead and kiss him one more time, “Same.”

Huening kai decides not to report the person smoking behind the art block, instead finding himself frequenting there just to see you and smoke and make out, a secret new found place where he can relieve tension and stress.

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s discouraging and sad when fics have such little reblogs ☹️👎🤨 Feedback is always appreciated it makes writers want to actually write :) !

Taglist: @jayoonology @banggyu0308 @idontwantoeatspicy @lovelyhyuka14

[lovelytsunoda]

indecent exposure // liam lawson

summary: some men should not be allowed to buy gag shirts when they go to vegas. liam lawson is not one of them. or, the liam face-sitting fic i've been ruminating on for months and never wrote.

pairing: liam lawson x female! reader

warnings: 18+!!! SMUT!!! porn with very minimal plot if i do say so myself. lots of double entendres for common police charges (disorderly conduct, indecent exposure etc.), liam refers to himself as 'agent lawson' and makes us all cringe with laughter. the actual face-sitting portion of the fic is really only a few paragraphs at the end lmao the foreplay was too fun with all the cop jokes-

author's note: somebody should take both my library card and every british detective show in existence away from me because this is what happens when i watch too many episodes of anything with a hot detective in it. never mind the fact that i binged lauren layne's new yorks finest series last year when i was snowed in and my classes were cancelled for almost a week

there was nothing that y/n loved more than coming home from a long day at work and taking her dress pants off. and her high heels, and her bra. typically this would be followed by a pint of ben and jerrys and a few episodes of 'grace and frankie'. sometimes it would be followed by a feel good eighties movie, or by her boyfriend ordering takeout and ravishing her while they waited for it to arrive.

all of these were good options, as far as y/n was concerned.

"hey babe!" liam shouted, darting across the hall from the small gym space they'd set up, to the master bedroom. "look what i found in the closet...jesus. you look gorgeous." he stopped in his tracks, eyes fixed on his goddess of a girlfriend as she stood in front of the gilded mirror next to the walk-in closet.

"you saw be before i left for work." she laughed, taking out the small diamond studs in her ears. they were a gift from liam for their anniversary. "all i've done is take off my slacks and bra, and undo my shirt a little bit."

but it wasn't the lack of pants that was getting liam all flustered, nor was it the way the collar of her silk work shirt dipped down just a little too far, the hem not quite long enough to cover the area where thigh met ass.

no, it was the black prada glasses that delicately framed her eyes. the eyes that had so captivated liam from the moment they met.

"if you ever decide to get contacts, i'm leaving you. seriously."

he wasn't serious in the slightest.

"the way you look in those glasses should be a crime. you're gorgeous, babe."

facing him, she laughed, hands on her hips. "i thought you threw that shirt out!"

she groaned internally, looking at the tight-fitting black cotton shirt that liam was wearing, and the cracking white vinyl lettering over his heart. fbi. a gag gift he had bought in vegas. it was too tight despite it's age, hugging each and every one of liam's muscles far too tight, and looking deceptively erotic when paired with his dark blue jeans.

"so did i! isn't it great?" he grinned like an idiot, spinning in a little circle to show off the writing on the back.

female body inspector.

who the fuck came up with these things? on any random guy in the street, she would have gagged at the vulgar implications of the words. on her boyfriend? she only rolled her eyes.

"there's a reason it went missing in the move, babe."

liam shook his head, ignoring her words. "ma'am, i'm special agent lawson from the federal bureau of investigations. i've received a complaint about disorderly conduct on the premises. and now that i'm here i might have to upgrade that charge to indecent exposure, little lady."

"you're such a fucking idiot." she giggled, looping her arms around her boyfriend's neck before kissing him softly. "i love you."

"love you more." he rasped in between kisses, his hands travelling underneath the hem of her shirt. "what do you say the two of us make a case for disturbing the peace?"

"if you make one more cop-related come on, i'm walking out that front door and never coming back."

liam flashed a shit-eating grin, raking his bleached blonde hair out of his face. "so does that mean you won't consent to a frisk search?"

"i will humor you this one time." she laughed, taking a step back. "take it away, agent. but you do realize that the fbi don't get to make disorderly conduct calls? that's a beat cop's job."

"i seem to recall that you have a right to remain silent?"

she winked, undoing another button on her shirt, the fabric falling away just enough to give liam a glimpse of the soft flesh of her breasts. "and i don't recall being read my rights."

"hands against the wall, feet shoulder width apart, you beautiful smartass." liam laughed, waiting for her to turn slightly before playfully swatting at her backside. "then i can read them to you."

the wall was cold against her palms as she got into position, listening half-heartedly as liam attempted to remember the american miranda rights. he got about as far as 'you have the right to remain silent' and 'you have the right to an attorney' before he gave up.

"you know what, this isn't that serious. fuck the right to remain silent, you have the right to remain sexy as fuck. how about that." she could hear the playful annoyance in his voice, and couldn't help the smile that broke out across her face.

there was the liam she knew and loved. not one to mince words, even in the bedroom.

his smooth hands were a welcome presence on her body, travelling up her legs, over her hips and up the sides of her torso. torturously slow, his warm hands dipped underneath her shirt, taking her breasts in his hands, her peaked nipples between his fingers.

heat rose to her skin, adding a rosy sheen in the halflight. she sighed under his touch, her head dropping back to rest on liam's shoulder. liam smiled fondly, one of his hands reaching for hers, the other dropping to cradle her waist.

"you're beautiful." he hummed, kissing her neck gently. "i hope you know that."

this was a side of liam that only she ever got to see. on the outside, he gave off frat boy energy: the hair, the way he carried himself. the way he spoke. but just under the surface, was a man who was wrapped around his girlfriend's finger. one who loved shamelessly, and with his whole heart.

pulling away from the wall, the turned in his hold to face him, tangling her hands in his hair and kissing him deeply.

"if you can get that shirt off without tearing a stitch, you can keep it."

liam beamed, breaking from the embrace to scramble for the hem of the worn t-shirt. he had almost gotten it over his head when he heard the first few stitches begin to pop, fabric getting stuck by his shoulders.

"fuck!"

"need some help with that?"

"i think i'm good!"

somehow they ended up on the bed, both half dressed and pent up. she was soaked through her thong, despite her earlier attitude towards the t-shirt and further proving the point that her lover looked good in just about anything (or nothing, for that matter). she was needy, every nerve in her body reacting to the way liam's tongue probed her mouth, the way his hands touched her body. the way he moaned when she pressed up against the bulge in his jeans.

"babe," he mumbled in between kisses. "do you trust me?"

she cocked an eyebrow, brushing his bangs out of his face before looking down at him "should i be worried?"

"do you trust me, yes or no?"

"of course, li. of course i trust you."

liam nodded. "good. so sit on my face."

she paused, almost as if her brain was sending up error messages. she knew this day would come. liam lawson would eat pussy any which way. truthfully, she was shocked this day hadn’t come sooner.

it wasn’t that she didn’t want to. of course she wanted to.

“babe, how will you be able to breathe? I’ll suffocate you.” she protested, reaching for his hand. “I don’t want that on my conscience.”

“sweetheart, it’s okay. you won’t hurt me. and if-god forbid-I do suffocate, trust me on this, I wouldn’t want to go out any other way than with your thighs on either side of my head.”

and with that, liam took her hands in his, and guided her towards where he needed her most. she looked down at him with a soft smile, running her fingers through his hair.

"i love you." she whispered, moving her hands to the headboard and beginning to lower herself down to meet her lovers tongue.

she inhaled sharply as she made contact, liam's plump lips mouthing at her pussy, her grip tightening on the wooden headboard.

"i've got you, princess." liam's voice was muffled, but his words were reassuring as he ran a hand up and down her thigh. "just ride my face, darlin'. use my tongue to get yourself off."

feeling bolder than she was when she first sat down, she began to grind on liam's face, his nose bumping against her swollen clit with each movement. every bit of friction, every swipe of liam's tongue drove her wild, was like setting fire to her nerve endings.

"oh sweet jesus, god." she whined, fighting the urge to close her thighs together around liam's head, focussing on the way his hands gripped her thighs in a bruising way. she looked down at his face and moaned again, seeing the pleasure mapped out on her boyfriend's features.

"oh, i'm in heaven." he moaned, pulling her down further to plunge his tongue inside of her, rapidly flicking it inside and out.

her eyes rolled back as her hips bucked, grinding against the tip of his nose as one hand came down to clutch at his hair. tears of pleasure pricked the corners of her eyes as she cried out his name.

"liam- right there, oh my god, keep doing that." she whined, trying to move her hips faster. liam's face was soaked, the entire bottom half coated in her juices. there was so much of it, running down the sides of his cheeks and soaking into the pillowcase behind him.

she felt so good she could barely see, screwing her eyes shut. her pants and whines became closer together and more high pitched, the movement of her hips more frantic as she chased that feeling, that high.

"are you going to cum for me, baby?" liam asked, pulling his face away from her. she continued to drip onto his face, and he opened his mouth wide, catching some of her slick on his tongue. "come on my face. please, i want to be drowning in it."

and how could she say no to that?

she could barely keep her shoulders straight as she resumed her motions, fingers gripping liam's hair to keep herself steady. his hands grasped desperately at the flesh of her ass cheeks, squeezing and massaging as one of her own hands came up to grasp at one of her tits, teasing the peaked nipple between her fingers.

"oh god, liam, i think i'm coming!"

"i've got you, i've got you. just breathe-"

his last word was cut off with a moan as she began to gush, coating his face in her release. his moans were muffled by the weight of her body, but they were no less loud as he set about licking her clean.

her legs felt like jello and her body like mush as liam tried to sit up, easing her body back so that she was sitting in his lap, wet core right over top of the massive bulge in his jeans. liam was certain that if she moved at all while she was on top of him, he'd come in his jeans. totally spent, she slumped against him, resting her head on his chest.

he leaned down to kiss her sweaty forehead and she scrunched up her face. she looked adorable in her fogged-up glasses with her messy hair. and liam couldn't stop his heart from melting as she reached for the box of tissues in the nightstand and began to clean up his face.

"that was incredible." her voice was soft as she cleaned him up. "i had no idea you could do that."

"don't give me all the credit." liam laughed, playfully nipping at her fingers as she moved to wipe his mouth down. "you played a very large part in why i'm still hard right now."

she laughed, a big smile on her face as she looped her arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him softly. with his large hands holding her in place, they kissed again. sweet, chaste and soft, with no intention of it leading anywhere else.

at least, not this early in the evening.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @cartierre @lorarri @userlando @diorleclerc

[tleeaves]

Rule(heart)breaker pt. II

Tokyo Debunker | Ritsu Shinjo x reader/MC Warnings: none Description: ritsu shinjo fails and try, tries again... and again... aaaand again. contains low grade angst and high-grade ridiculousness. slightly yandere vibes if you get real close and cross your eyes. Author's note: as requested, here's a part ii to this short fic idea here. longer than the first part and there's likely to be a part iii when I can get around to it. writing for ritsu kind of started as a joke since I also study law but now I'm kinda attached to this idea ngl. might eventually edit and upload this series to ao3 as a multi-chapter fic, we'll see. - T. Lee 🍃

It was Day Thirty-three of Ritsu Shinjo’s battle to get you back. He stood in his dormitory room, dressed in a matching set of pinstriped grey pyjamas ironed to perfection, and observed the corkboard he had set up on the wall. Notes, pictures, and red string wound around pins mapping out his trials and errors.

Everything began simple enough at first. A phone call the first day to ask you to reconsider your statement. You did not pick up. Nor would you for the next three days, at which point Ritsu considered his next step. He knew your class schedule by heart. So, naturally, he began trying to track you down between classes to make his case in person. By the end of that first week, you had called him nine colourful terms and flipped him off with three of those.

Ritsu Shinjo knew the risks of client abuses when working in the legal field. He knew the troubles of fickle associates and ruthless adversaries. No one prepared him for an unwilling business partner—let alone one that so swiftly appeared to detest him. A selfish and competitively ambitious partner, certainly, but not one he needed to keep who did not want to be kept.

It would be easier, he had reasoned, to merely acquire a more adequate person to work with who was less cranky, less preoccupied, and more enthusiastic. But Ritsu quickly found that to be impractical option. The use of you was that you were Darkwick Inspector. So, not only did he need you to reel in higher-ranked missions for Sinostra for the credit and sign offs, but he also needed an insider on all the other houses. You were, clearly, the prime person to keep close. And now he had gone and upset you—quite accidentally, of course—which placed Sinostra in a precarious position. Because during the second week, on exactly the Tenth Day of battle, you ignored the request to attend to Sinostra.

Ritsu had ensured the proper avenues from Vice-Captain Romeo S. Lucci to Captain Taiga Hoshibami (via a signature the captain was unlikely to remember giving out) to the heads of the houses and the chancellor himself were all followed. He dotted his i's and crossed his t’s, did it all by the book and followed the chain of authority for once. And somehow you had managed to worm your way out of the Sinostra assignment to take on a different one in Frostheim, a place you were much more difficult to reach when the likes of Jin Kamurai practically held you hostage.

It was affecting Sinostra’s progress. Ritsu Shinjo had brought this upon the house himself and now he needed to amend the mistake before Romeo’s wails of developing premature wrinkles over the matter actually manifested.

On Day Eleven, Ritsu managed to catch you on your way back to the cathedral, thankfully before closing business hours. He made his plea and even offered you an elegant fountain pen from his exquisite collection of stationery to gain favour. His father would approve of buttering up people with professional gifts.

You took the pen and promptly seized Ritsu’s hand to write “DICKHEAD” across the back. His fault, perhaps, for this being the one time he had not worn his gloves. He had watched you storm off (you kept the pen, as was your right, unfortunately, since he had already confirmed it was a gift and therefore equitably transferred ownership) swaying on the path, hand still aloft as the dark ink spelling out his crime against your good humour dried.

He tried coffees for the next series of mornings where he caught you on your way to 9 AM classes and mission calls. You were merciful enough not to spill any on him this time. But many likely poisoned the innocent shrubbery lining the academy’s pathways by the time he gave up that endeavour.

He really, really wanted to accuse you of assault, battery, or littering at the very least. Ritsu knew that to get on your good side though, his role now was not just an agent of the law but a savvy business partner. A partner would put their other partner first if it meant saving their business. And Ritsu was in the business of climbing the ladder, so he needed you. The temptation was difficult to fight when you threw the silver watch he bought you at his head.

He knew he should have opted for gold.

Third week in and he truly began to realise you changed. Ritsu listened back on recordings, paced a trench into the carpet of his rooms, and sorted through his appendices of photographic evidence to pinpoint exactly what it was and when it started. To his surmounting horror, the signs began well before you resigned.

When you first arrived at the academy, you were a timid honour student being dragged around by ghouls every which way with nary a peep made about it. The more familiar with the environment you became, however, the more pronounced your backbone grew. Ritsu felt with an odd sense of pride that you might have come into your own as an advocate like him—if you would only refrain from your more unruly tendencies.

On Day Eighteen, he gifted you a monogrammed handkerchief and kept his invoice for his dry-cleaning from the day of your resigning quiet. He could afford it, even if his pride and sense of equity told him you should be paying for the damages. Ritsu had managed to develop a behavioural chart for you, similar to the one he had for Taiga. That was how he knew the likely time to catch you in a more sedate mood, making you more susceptible to his gifts and pleas. Ritsu straightened up, pleased, when you accepted the handkerchief. You had not accepted his business offer, but he counted this as progress.

At least, that was until he found the handkerchief delivered to his rooms in Sinostra, decorated with dark lipstick marks that seemed to taunt him with its unwashed state. By this point, Ritsu could practically hear your voice saying, pay me for the dry-cleaning this time, asshole. Perhaps he should start a prediction chart for your responses to certain circumstances too.

Things were getting dire when you started disappearing for days at a time on more intense missions with other houses. You still had not returned to Sinostra. Romeo was hanging by a thread. Ritsu kept his cool, same as ever. There was no problem he could not solve.

Save for the fact that it became clear you were ignoring him. Calls, texts, summons, and waves on campus when he managed to catch a rare glimpse of you went unanswered. Worse still, you had other ghouls with you constantly now. That did not stop Ritsu from gathering intelligence though. Most students merely raised eyebrows and continued to ignore him when he recorded your conversations from around corners. This might have been considered a breach of privacy and perhaps even inadmissible as evidence in a court, but you were in a public space and he was not in a courtroom.

Day Twenty-nine and Ritsu found himself swallowing down an uncomfortable feeling. He was trying a bouquet of flowers today. That was professional. Many coworkers gifted each other flowers for various occasions. Ritsu figured this was not far outside the realm of associate-like behaviour.

You had just returned from another gruelling mission that landed you in the clinic. Ritsu carefully placed the bouquet at your bedside with a printed note. You refused to even look at him. If this continued for another month, your curse would be halfway in its progression already. Ritsu would never let the opposition see him sweat. But as he left your room, the one of six handkerchiefs he kept on his person was used to dab at his face.

Ritsu Shinjo was supposed to be perfect. He was going to be Japan’s top attorney. He had been training since early childhood for ruling the nation’s upper class with his knowledge of the law and how to reap rewards from their purses. He knew four languages, minimum, entirely fluently. He knew every classic opera, all manner of geography and jurisdictions, the top restaurants, and dressed impeccably. He got accepted into the most prestigious academy after making a deal with a demon.

If he did not leave this educational institution with the highest of accreditation, would all of that be for nothing? What was the point if he was not the best?

He needed the laurel crown for Sinostra with your assistance this year before either your curse turned you into an anomaly or you were freed from this place to return to your previous life. If Sinostra could come into the academy’s high graces again, it would make proceeding years easier for Ritsu to handle maintaining the house’s status on his own to ensure his graduation came from perfect results.

Five months were just about gone already. If something did not change, fast, he would be losing six, with only six more to go. What would happen the closer you came to the change? Would it be a gradual development or something that occurred all at once at the precise one year mark? If the former, would you still retain enough sound mind to work with Ritsu?

Would you become like Sinostra’s captain? Something worse?

And so here he was, Day Thirty-three and standing in front of his strategy board, breaking out into a cold sweat. Ritsu Shinjo was supposed to be unflappable. When it came to you, he was stumped. He had tried everything, from the direct approach, to notes, to gifts, to flowers, and even both a written and verbal apology. Every trick in the book.

What could he possibly be missing?

The door to his rooms burst open. Affronted, Ritsu took a half-step back, hand reaching for his compendium. “Vice-Captain? It is outside working hours and you are trespass—”

“Silence, YRT! You look to be working overtime anyway,” Romeo declared, slamming the door behind him. “This is GOOH, you need to FTI or so help me, I am ending your contract as Sinostra’s attorney!”

Ritsu blinked. “…GOOH? If you would please clarify—”

“GETTING OUT OF HAND, YOU SBA!”

Perhaps it was better not to ask and hinder the progress of the conversation. “I…” I, what? I have it under control? I will find a way? I, Ritsu Shinjo, paralegal, will resolve this in a timely manner? “How do you win someone over? Someone who hates you?”

Romeo’s irritation sputtered out a little, the creases on his porcelain skin smoothing. “Usually bribery.”

“Tried that.”

“Threats?”

“Futile, illegal.”

Romeo cocked his head to the side. “Have you tried locking them up?”

“That,” said Ritsu with a frown, “would constitute false imprisonment, which is also illegal, and is punishable by—”

“Whatever, shut up,” Romeo snapped, waving away the statement. “I thought you Shinjos were supposed to be morally bankrupt.”

Ritsu felt a prickle run up his spine. Holding his vice-captain’s gaze, he murmured, “No comment.”

“This is about that BB honour student, yes? She’s a woman like any other.” Romeo snapped his fingers. “Seduce her.”

“…I— beg your pardon?”

“You heard me! Seduce the honour student. That solves the part where she hates you, where she avoids you, and it will undoubtedly lead her back to Sinostra.” Wrinkling his delicate nose, Romeo added, “Just no risqué displays on the casino floor. I would rather not see that, nor do I wish to drive away the money.”

Ritsu opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened again. And fell shut. A peculiar heat buzzed over his skin. Finally, he said, “There must be another way. I will keep researching.”

Romeo scoffed. “At this rate, she’ll be an anomaly before she so much as looks at you again. If all other methods of enticing her to help us have already failed,” he explained, surprisingly patient, “then you must take more extreme action. People sleep with each other all the time to rise among ranks.”

“N— no one said anything about—”

“Shut up! Don’t you get it, you DTH? If you seduce her, she will become obsessed with you, will do whatever you say, and we can use her for Sinostra’s gain. It’s EAP.”

Ritsu wandered over to his desk chair and sat with the weight of his thoughts. What more did he have to lose if he tried this new strategy? You would reject his initial advances, undoubtedly, but perhaps if he investigated the best courting techniques and combined it with Romeo’s suggestion, it might be possible to soften you with something more personal than business. He supposed he had already tried everything else. It was nigh unreasonable how stubborn you were being. Yet…

“All right. I’ll do it.” Ritsu turned to his binder and his laptop to begin his research. “I will develop a plan and swiftly execute it within the next month. That should give Sinostra enough time to regain standing once I… have reacquired the inspector.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Romeo asked, dubious.

“Courting and seduction are thousands of years old arts, and I am something of a connoisseur of arts, naturally. I, Ritsu Shinjo, must move up my plan for a romantic partner. I knew this day would come eventually. It goes without saying that this need not be permanent, since I have different criterion—”

“Whatever, BSB,” interrupted Romeo. “Just get it done or you can forget about the contract.” The door slammed shut once again.

Ritsu glanced at his corkboard and then removed the sheet he had been writing on from his binder and pinned it up next to a picture of you.

The Girlfriend Strategy.

[anonymouslyel]

jwds wherein dongsik notices how juwon treats him differently compared to others within the manyang crew like:

jihoon asked him one day to ask juwon, who was changing at the sleeping quarters, if juwon has an extra pack of tissue on him. dongsik tells jihoon to ask juwon himself but jihoon says "juwon only says yes to you, hyung."

of course dongsik denied that but jihoon really did ask juwon for a pack of tissue and juwon says he doesn't have one. come evening, before they clock out, juwon noticed dongsik's hand covered with stray pen marks. "don't mind it. i'll wash my hands at jaeyi's." dongsik waved juwon's concern but juwon opened his drawer and picked a small pack of wet wipes from a set of three, opened it, and wiped dongsik's hand himself.

dongsik looked around and met jihoon's gaze that was saying i told you so.

another instance. they're meeting at jaeyi's shop for their usual dinner get together and dongsik's helping jaeyi set up the table.

"remove the ones on juwon's seat," jaeyi suddenly said as dongsik finished setting.

"why?"

"he only uses shared things when you give it to him."

"that's not true." surely that's not true.

jaeyi fixed a look to him and said "watch me." a challenge. she placed back the removed utensils on juwon's seat.

later, juwon was the last to arrive just as they're starting to eat. as usual, he sat between dongsik and jihoon. the menu was grilled meat and their usual choice of jjigae; budaejjigae, which is something juwon eats but he doesn't pick up his utensils and simply joined the conversation.

"aren't you gonna eat, inspector han?" jihwa asked.

"later," was what juwon replied.

several minutes later, dongsik felt jaeyi kicking his feet for attention. she looked at him and gestured at the food then at juwon. and because dongsik's sure juwon's not gonna accept what he'll give, dongsik filled the bowl a bit of budaejjigae and a couple pieces of meat.

"eat just a bit, juwon-ah. i worked hard to set up the table and helped jaeyi with cooking, you know." dongsik picked up the chopsticks and pushed the filled bowl and chopsticks to juwon. a pause, then juwon accepted the food silently.

dongsik felt another kick in his feet from jaeyi and she gave him a smug look.

another instance. dongsik gives the car keys to jihwa. "go drive juwon's car. i'll go with mine. let's meet the others at the scene."

"what, no. i cant drive his car." jihwa pushed the car keys to dongsik's chest and snatched the other car key from his hand. "i'll drive yours. you drive his."

"why can't you drive his car?" dongsik asked.

"he doesnt let anyone drive his car, okay. i offered to drive him home when he was drunk one time and he said he doesnt let anyone drive his car. said its dirty." jihwa pushed dongsik away and opened the door to his car.

"but i-"

"what, but you drove it? you've always been the exception, dongsik." jihwa shook her head then closed the car door and drove off.

[kusanagihaku]

think about the consequence

⭢ tohma x mc, 1.2k

h is for height. ˖⁺‧₊⟡ alphabet series | ao3

You grit your teeth. Who the fuck put the loose leaf packages all the way in the back of the cupboard? 

It’s bad enough that you were held up at Sinostra and were sweaty and ten minutes late to your meeting with Jin; now you’re struggling to make Jin his pot of tea too. You can feel his displeasure growing by the minute. 

You strain on your tiptoes, stretching your fingers as far as possible to the back of the cupboard, but your fingertips barely brush the bag of tea you know is in there. Fucking hell. 

Shouldn’t this be Tohma’s job? Or actually, what’s stopping the Frostheim captain from making the goddamn tea himself? Who does he think he is, ordering you to–

“Honour student,” a deep voice, smooth as silk, slides by the shell of your ear. 

A hand reaches past yours, long fingers easily snagging the bag of tea and bringing it down to your eye level. You turn to see the growing smirk of the Frostheim vice-captain, polished monocle glinting in the artificial warmth of the pantry as he looks down at you. 

Fuck. 

He is much too close – close enough you can count individual eyelashes framing the cornflower blue of his eyes, close enough you can lean forward and kiss–

You flush immediately, then spend the next two seconds willing it down despairingly as Tohma’s grin grows wider. Stupid perfect man with his stupid perfect hair and his stupid perfect face. 

He smells oddly warm, too, a mix of sunshine and linen and something spiced. You bite your lip; it surprises you. For some reason you’ve always associated him with the crisp cologne-like air freshener floating around the halls of his house, but there is something so him, so magnetically Tohma, rushing in the undercurrent of his scent that it makes a small part of you wonder what it would taste like.  

You grab the bag of tea from his hands, pointedly looking away. “Thanks.” 

“No problem,” he says, insufferable grin still pinned in place as if he knows how fast your heart is thundering, how fast he makes your heart thunder. God, you’d slap him across his smug smile if you could. 

With your lips, preferably, a cheerful and annoying part of your mind reminds you, and you scowl, unwrapping the golden bag between your hands. Maybe so. 

He doesn’t leave after that, either, instead leaning against the counter casually, arms crossed and eyes tracking your movements between the kettle and teapot. “Bai mudan?” 

“Mm,” you say. You shake one, two spoons of loose tea leaves into the clay teapot in front of you as you wait for the water to rise to the right temperature. “Jin specifically requested it.” 

Tohma laughs at that. “He enjoys it whenever he’s stressed.” 

You fold the edges of the bag neatly back into itself and reach for a clip to close the bag just like you’ve seen Tohma do millions of times. Whatever the infernal Frostheim king could be stressed about you cannot fathom – for as long as you’ve been inspector you’ve always seen Tohma handling most of the paperwork and missions. 

Almost as if he can read your mind, Tohma softens. “Institute things, you know?” 

You don’t, you want to say. Institute or not, a man should be able to make his own damn tea. But there is something soft and chiding in the gentle of Tohma’s words that hold your tongue. Always kind, always loyal, the sort of strong and steadfast you could only wish to be. He must have his reasons.

You sigh, an acknowledgement rather than an agreement, and are rewarded by a hum from the monocled man beside you. The loose leaf tea returns to the cupboard, significantly closer to the edge than when you retrieved it. 

Tohma glances down. He opens his mouth again, but you beat him to it. “Yeah, 75 degrees, I know.” 

His eyes crinkle up at that, an amused sparkle behind his monocle you refuse to admit shoots straight through your heart and leaves you some type of giddy. “Good girl.” 

G-

Your brain stops. 

What? 

He– what? 

Your cheeks react before your brain can, burning red at his comment and fueled by the gravel of his voice. What? 

You’ve never been one for praise. But somehow, as you stare at the wisps of steam trailing up from the spout of the kettle (you really should be removing it from the heat soon), the embers of his words settle at the bottom of your stomach, glowing; they leave a flashing red neon sign sprawling Good girl! all over the now dry expanse of your mind. 

Maybe you are one for praise, after all. 

Your hand reaches towards the electric kettle on autopilot, turning it off, but the rest of your brain twitches feebly, failing to restart. 

What does he mean? 

As large as your crush on him has been growing, Tohma has never once been more than courteous towards you. Throughout the hours you’ve spent in the vaults with him poring over paperwork and sifting through the missions and budgets of the general students, he has always been every HR personnel’s wet dream, always staying on his side of the table and conversing about nothing but work. 

You’ve cursed it out before, of course, in the safety of your own shower – wouldn’t it be nice if he looked at you like more than a coworker, for once? 

Except (as you’re quickly finding out) perhaps it is more than you can handle. 

Maybe he goes around calling all the Frostheim girls that, you rationalise, desperately. (You hope not.) Maybe he doesn’t know the effect it has on you. 

“Need help?” Tohma’s voice is close to your ear now, and you startle. Some time between your thoughts going blank and the kettle finding itself in your hand he has moved much closer than you realised – his breath is heated on the tip of your ear, a far cry from the low temperatures filling the rest of Frostheim. 

It’s been a while since you were posted to Frostheim for your very first mission, but the vibrations Tohma’s voice sends through the prickle of your skin is still as strong as back then. You suppress a shiver as you turn, only to see Tohma’s smirk mere inches from your face. 

Oh, this bastard. He knows. 

His hand reaches out to secure the kettle before you can drop it in shock, closing over yours in a soft steadiness as you blink.

“Steady, now,” he murmurs. Whether he’s referring to the kettle in your hands or the irregular bump of your heart, you will never know. His eyes drift briefly down your face, before he turns to set the electric kettle back on the table. 

“Well,” he says, unreadable smile back in place like he hasn’t just melted half your braincells, “I have work to do.“ 

He steps away, bowing slightly; the absence of his body next to yours is immediately noticeable in the empty chill that follows. 

“Best to get Jin his tea soon,” he adds, nudging his monocle up the bridge of his nose, and with that he disappears into the cold darkness of Frostheim, leaving you with the swirl of steam from the kettle and the swirl of thoughts in your brain. 

[braceletofteeth]

Watching Inspector Koo helped me understand why the council of the Merciless Evil Devil From Hell megafandom has been rejecting Psychopath Diary as a part of their own for the last couple of years.

What the plots of The Merciless, Beyond Evil, The Devil Judge and Strangers From Hell have in common is the dynamic between their main characters. It’s required one character that represents corruption (Jaeho, Dongsik, Yohan and Moonjo) and one character that has the potential to be corrupted or is already corrupted and ignorant to/in denial about it (Hyunsoo, Joowon, Gaon and Jongwoo).

All of them begin on opposite sides of their counterparts (even in the circumstance where they work on the same team, they have their own agendas, and distrust and/or disagreements are ever present). Eventually, however, the ones with potential to be corrupted will choose to be on the side of the characters that represent corruption, whether definitely or temporarily (in Hyunsoo’s tragic case). This transition to the side of their counterparts happens after they comprehend and sympathize with their motivations.

The forementioned transition never happens in Psychopath Diary. The main character (Dongsik) was forced to learn about and analyze his counterpart (Inwoo)’s inner thoughts and motivations in order to understand himself, during the time Dongsik mistakenly believed he was Inwoo and only had his diary to guide him. Despite being initially motivated by a misunderstanding, his dedication brought results: he understands Inwoo, profoundly. But—much like the protagonist of Inspector Koo with her counterpart—he doesn’t agree with him. When he tried to wear Inwoo’s skin, his instinct rejected it. He had to modify it to something that made sense to him, something he could consent to. The same energy, but opposite moral codes.

Dongsik, with his sense of identity intact, wouldn’t be swayed by Inwoo’s cause. He couldn’t be persuaded, because he wasn't tempted. A characteristic he lacked in comparison to the characters from the MEDFH who gave in to it. Who accepted it because their energies matched their counterparts’; not for being opposites, but for being similar. The same moral code, or at least one flexible enough to accept theirs and stand tall by their side.

[lalunanymph]

lose lose game (m) — ginoza n.

ginoza finds himself caught between hell and a hard place when he’s forced to bring in a latent criminal who happens to be the only person he has ever loved in his life

warnings: unprotected sex, soft!ginoza, slight yan!gino, reader is coded to be feminine, college crushes, mild angst, gino is traumatized lmao, ooc!gino, restraints, gags, mentions of cheating, kinda dubcon if you squint, weapons, canon typical violence, enforcer!gino x fem!reader, unedited, unbeta-ed oops

dawn says: debuting my first ever pp fic hiii look im gonna be honest, i only watched 3 eps and half of the movie but i would let this man do unspeakably unholy things to me

Ginoza is a hard head.

As much as his superiors and colleagues would vouch for the opposite, you’ve known him since you were a girl and he was a boy.

He hated losing, and more than that, he hated being proved that he was wrong.

So, when the stats reflect past his murky dark eyes and encroaches the territory of his disbelieving thoughts, he has to fight back the urge to hurl.

120 Crime Coefficient.

The coffee he ingested this morning as his only meal churns heavily in his stomach. 

The smiling face and rosy lips dug through his thoughts, rendering them a repeat of no, no, not her, not her. Fear clawed through his chest and he was once again 8 years old, fearing the stomping of boots; the cracking thuds of bodies against the drywall.

Watching mutely in horror—in helplessness—as his father was dragged away by men in suits, his entire bloodline branded as an impending danger to society.

Akane’s voice is soft, cutting through the fog of his whirlwind thoughts. “You know what happens next, right?”

Ginoza’s nostrils flare. Another thing he absolutely detested was someone telling him what to do when he already had half a mind set on it.

For the first time since becoming her subordinate, Ginoza flashes Akane a veiled look of distrust. She misinterpreted it as his reluctant acceptance.

“Good. Bring her back, Gino-chan, then we can talk about your reinstatement as an Inspector.” 

Dangling his old post right in front of him like a bone to the dogs he once swore to hate, nothing could prepare Ginoza for the flash of pure hatred coursing through him like a lightning strike. 

But, he muffles the resentment; sends Akane a curt nod.

“I’ll be back,” is what he promised. 

With her out of the system, is what he didn’t say out loud. 

Shuttering light flitted across your face, the train tracks above passing in mechanical whirs, waking you from a fitful sleep. 

The dregs of fatigue still clung to your eyelashes, rendering you in a drowsy stupor that you didn’t notice a shadow moving across your boxed-in room. It was the cheapest unit you could find on your runaway budget; after a street scanner had spotted you, word soon escalated to your job management and you had discovered your things packaged in boxes right outside your office door—effectively rendering you jobless and homeless in one go. 

There was nothing you could do but run for the streets, hiding in the shadows until someone killed you or you were arrested. 

Sitting up, you stifled a yawn. 

Someone cleared his throat. 

Eyes shooting wide open, you quickly leapt from the bed, hitting the lights to illuminate the barrel of a Dominator staring right at your face. 

The man behind it was quiet as a whisper, his hard eyes trailed right on your shell-shocked expression.

“Don’t resist.” 

You swallowed hard, imploring him with a wide gaze. “Please… I did nothing.” 

He stepped closer into the light, and your chest squeezed in recognition. “Nobuchika?” 

Ginoza looked like he had bit down on a handful of nails; mouth twisted into a grimace, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.

After years of having not seen each other since college, Ginoza looked different. 

Taller. Lethal. The corners of his lips were downturned—tired. 

You felt more than noticed the heavy blanket of exhaustion eclipsing his broad shoulders. Something stirred deep in you—a kindred spirit reaching out towards his own. 

“Don’t make this anymore difficult for me.”

Gulping, you balled your fists. “So, you’re gonna arrest me? Let them torture me?” 

Those green eyes with heavy bags underneath them darkened under your weak, fluorescent light. “No. But, if you put up resistance, I’d be forced to do something I don’t want to, as well.” 

A shaky exhale of a breath. And then, you turned on your heel to run. 

Ginoza caught you in a flash, his strong arms vining around your smaller frame. 

“Let me go!” you screamed, kicking his shin, clawing at his arms. Everything in the universe was transpiring against your escape when he clamped a hand around your mouth.

Going up against an apex predator was foolishness to the highest heavens, especially when said hunter already had restraints prepared.

Your arms were bound behind your back, a lead gag slotted in between your teeth. Ginoza was efficient in subduing you without the need for his Dominator; a feat of pure shame considering how you couldn’t even put up a good fight.

He hauled you towards a kitchen chair, unceremoniously dumping you onto the hard bench. Fastening another knot to the wooden arms, he had you captured and restrained; your watery eyes lifted towards him to beseech for mercy.

The boy you knew before—the one who brought teachers homemade cards on their birthdays—was a far cry from the cutthroat man staining your periphery. 

As if he could read your mind, Ginoza got down onto one knee, right in front of you. His expression was unreadable, Dominator whirring on the ground beside him.

You eyed the weapon with unconcealed fear, and a beat of terror flitted in between both of your tense figures. 

Green eyes the colour of murky, contaminated pools fixed onto the tears escaping down your cheeks. He thumbed them away, careful to not touch your parted lips. 

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say. You stared at him in abject horror—at this man who was condemning you to a life of isolation. “But, I have to bring you in. Personal… feelings… aside.” 

Feelings? 

You struggled to fix your watery eyes onto him. In the background, your Psycho Pass beeped, reminding the both of you of the stats which was damning evidence of your deteriorating psyche.

“What happened?” 

Nobuchika spoke softly, as if someone could overhear. He was probably right to be this hesitant; Sibyl’s eyes and ears were never far from latent evil, as the saying once went. 

You clamped your gaze down to your knees, the gape in your chest throbbing. More hot tears squeezed past your closed eyes and you gasped, heaving and crying in front of a friend you hadn’t seen for years.

Memories of late nights kombini runs, leaking ink stains on paper and hot ramen noodles filtered in your mind. There was once a life where you had all the potential to be great; to grow and change society. Unjaded and unfettered, you had hoped for your country’s best, only to see it all crashing down in one fell swoop.

Gently, he tugged the gag out of your mouth, letting the spit-slicked bit roll down your chin.

“Hey. I’m speaking to you.”

Eyes flashing, you regarded him with frosty distaste. 

“You’re not supposed to speak to someone who's latent,” you seethed. “Or, have you forgotten your code, Enforcer.”

The badge on his chest burned. 

By now, an Inspector should be in his ear, telling him to unanimously pull the trigger and paralyse you. But, Ginoza swatted those thoughts away, focused on extracting the reason why your Hue was murky and your Psycho Pass stats were affected.

“I can help you.” 

Akane would tear him a new one. His position would get even more muddier; a dog who could not kill off his prey. They would tighten his leash, get eyes on him everywhere he went. He wouldn’t even be allowed to leave his apartment if they could help it. 

Fate or stupidity kept him frozen in one spot, those sharp eyes drinking in your waning resolve.

You sniffed, hanging your head forward. Finally letting your dense truth roll off your stubborn tongue. 

“My ex-boyfriend cheated on me and syphoned all of my money away and I… I want to kill that motherfucker.”

Your sobs filled the room. Ginoza discreetly clicked off his audio, turning his body cam’s eye to the ground.

Something bloomed in his chest, whether from familiarity or pity, he could not pick it apart. Ever since he saw your name in the system, he was a haunted man, trying and failing to fight this war between duty and memory—the same conflict he carried for 20 over years pouring like rancid waves to liquify his strong sense of righteousness. 

Good and bad—they wavered in the face of his longtime college crush. 

Ginoza always thought he would spend his entire life alone when you left the prefecture and he never got to tell you his real feelings. He was loyal like that; a pandering dog waiting for the one true owner of his heart to come back.

And here you were, a mirage shimmering right in front of him. Playing right into his hands. 

Those scarred knuckles caressed your cheek, catching you off guard with his tender afflictions. 

The dark locks framing his face from his loosening man bun tickled your chin when he leaned forward. Soft as down, his lips met yours, swallowing your sudden gasp of surprise.

Ginoza drank you in; a man hungry for a taste of life after being denied his human tendencies for years on end. Funny how his dedication to the Bureau could come undone because of one single woman—because of you. 

Forgetting and re-remembering the aching beat of his heart; Ginoza was gentle when he cupped your face in those large palms of his, careful to lick across the seam of your lips—tasting all of you in. 

Your soft moans caressed the upper palate of his hot mouth, and he knows the same feelings he harboured towards you were reciprocated. 

They ignited his desires, fueled his dangerous thoughts and occupations on what he needed to do next.

There was no way he was going to let this rush of exhilaration let him go. Since the beginning of his consciousness, his thoughts were moulded by the system, forged by the system and executed by the people who upheld the very system which had forced him to go numb. 

You were the one thing to bring colour back to his dull senses—it all started to make sense why he had held out this long; played by the system’s rules if it meant he could get you in the end.

“Nobuchika,” you whispered once he broke off the kiss, the sweetest exhilaration rushing through him from the sound of his name coming from you. 

“I’ll protect you,” unprompted, his promise was thorough and sure. “Anything that happens to you… I won’t let them touch you.”

The tinge of possessiveness marked its way as tears of gratitude down your face. You nodded and peeled your brilliant gaze onto him. 

Spurred on by the pure trust you had in him, Ginoza removed your binds, helping you stand up. You crashed into his arms, and he held you there, cheek squished right to your hair.

“I never thought you had feelings for me,” he murmured. “Seems like a dream.”

Your watery chuckle rebounded back into his ringing ears. “You were always so distant.” As you spoke, you tugged on the lapels of his suit, smoothing your hands all over his broad pecs. “You kinda scared me, if I’m being honest.”

In reciprocation, he shrugged the jacket off, eyeing you hungrily down the line of his defined nose.

“I did?” 

You hum. Reaching for the buttons of his crisp, white shirt, you slowly tugged it off. “But, I always thought you were brilliant, Gino—” 

“Nobuchika,” he almost panted when he felt your touch sear onto his scarred chest. “Call me by my name.” 

You gazed up at him past your lashes, nodding. “Nobuchika. I love your name.”

Without a word of complaint, he let you crowd him onto your bed, the old springs squeaking in resistance towards the fall of his larger body. Straddling his lap, your burning eyes set his mind ablaze—he suddenly felt too dizzy, like all the air in the room had been sucked up.

Ginoza skimmed his prosthetic hand down your thigh, feeling the taut sinew and muscles which dimpled underneath his mechanical fingers.

Soft. You were so, so soft for him. 

He perched up on his elbows, mouth frantically finding yours. You let him bruise kisses onto your parted lips, down your jaw and across your collarbone and neck.

Ginoza slotted his hands onto your hips, holding you like a man making sure his treasure was secure. 

He let you tug off his pants, shrug off your clothes to leave you glowing and fully naked in the half-light.

Low and static-like, in the background, he thought he heard someone calling his name over the comm. 

Common sense and the call of his superiors were drowned out the second you sank down on his dripping cock. Ginoza’s spine unfurled like a precious book, his moan sweetened with the taste of surrender. You paced yourself with hands locked around his shoulders, muffling your moans into his neck.

The sullied Enforcer lets you rut yourself on his cock, using him to get yourself off as he patiently plastered sloppy kisses down your throat and jaw. 

Your eyes rolled back in the dim light, whites exposing for a glimmering second to set off the wild, unprecedented racing of his heart. 

Ginoza supposed he has never felt such pride before in his life when he feels your pussy shuddering around his cock; an honest love letter to his unwavering passion at fucking into you until a rush of slick stains his thighs. 

You had come, gasping out his name and stabbing your nails right into his skin.

He feels the fever pitch breaking, tightens his core and gives one last snap of his hips upward.

Not caring that he had fucked you raw or that you were technically an enemy under his lawful consideration, Ginoza allowed himself to pour every drop of his desire right into your willing body. 

Your syrupy mewls lusciously caressed his hot ears, and the world goes black for one second as he tries to catch his breath. Weaving in and out of consciousness, Ginoza felt you standing, and his instinct told him you were just going to the bathroom to clean up.

Sleep weighed him down, insistent and caring—nurturing him in her motherly arms.

Ginoza slept like he had never done before since the day he became an Enforcer; cradled in threadbare blankets and the memory of your body pressed up to his. 

Till this moment, he swore he had felt you worm your way back into his arms, and even the brief, ghosting of your lips on his forehead.

But, when he opened his eyes, he noticed that the room was empty. 

A chirping, mechanical voice told him it was currently three in the morning; a full two hours since he had first arrived at your decrepit home.

Your clothes were missing, bag gone. 

Ginoza jumped to his feet, scrambling to put his clothes back on; cursing right under his breath.

His enforcement comm buzzed, and he felt Akane’s frustration before he answered the call. If Kogami were here, he would’ve laughed at his lapse of judgement—how easily good pussy could knock him out.

“She’s gone,” Akane said, flat and emotionless. “I expect a full report on how you had let her go, Ginoza.”

Before he could open his mouth and apologise—defend himself from her rightful flurry of disapproval, his Dominator whirled up. 

And Ginoza couldn’t believe his ears. The mechanical clicks almost didn’t set in for him—left him mute and rooted to the spot from the magnitude of what he had just done. 

How drastically he had fucked up and your cleverly veiled deceit which stunned him right to the core. 

Target’s CoEfficient level has changed. Target: L/N Y/N, affiliated with Shambala Float rebels. Enforcement mode: Lethal Eliminator. Please aim carefully and eliminate the target.

pussy so good it knocked him out like nyquil sjsjsjjs

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[teefsintheweb]

CONTAINMENT BREACH AU MASTERPOST

Hello! I am Teefs, an extraterrestrial creature on the internet.

My fondness for sci-fi and things like SCP have gotten mixed up with my obsession with FNAF, specifically, FNAF SB.

Containment Breach takes place in an alternate universe based on the world designed for a comic project I'm doing over at @remnantsofmatter . There's this unnamed 'facility' that focus on researching and containing anomalies and other worldly entities.

The facility is morally corrupt only seeing these creatures as things to use to gain power to remain at the top of the food chain if there would ever be an incomprehensible danger threatening Earth.

The characters are still being thought out but this is what we have so far:

The star of the au because he is my favorite guy ever is Glamrock Freddy! in this au he is an anthro bear who recently got hired by this unnamed facility as a lead in researching anomalies and other worldly entities.

Vanessa is an emotionally distant supervisor always putting pressure on Freddy, making her a figure he often tries to avoid due to her intimidating him and stressing him out into overworking himself, but he will remain respectful and polite.

Chica is a receptionist being kept in the dark about the legitimacy of her job, she's just there to smile at government inspectors and keep them from looking further into what the facility does. Chica is Freddy's best friend from childhood.

Roxy and Monty are guards working in the facility, the frontline responders if an entity breaks out of containment.

Monty often gets into conflict with Freddy, Freddy being very protective and caring to the entities and wanting them to be treated with gentle care- which Monty knows is unrealistic because he has had to chose between a lethal shot and his life. He knows [or strongly believes] that the entities are not as "human" as the staff in the facility, his priority is keeping everyone safe no matter what thing is attempting to rip out his throat.

Bonnie in this au was designed by @himbo-in-limbo . He's a janitor at this facility that avoids death by being the silliest goober ever. Monty may try setting him up by sending him to clean the containment unit of an extremely hostile entity only for Bonnie to walk out perfectly calm without a scratch.

more characters may be added and more detailed relationship dynamics as well!

This au was created in the Rockstar Row Discord server. Which then comes the most appealing part of this au I believe, the self inserts.

I have encouraged my friends who are part of the server to design their sona's/oc's into the au!!

This post being an example by Venbetta!

Essentially I have put together a doll house to the server and am inviting my friends to make dolls so we can all play together. I'm not sure whether or not I'm comfortable with people outside the server inserting themselves into the au. Smaller projects are much more manageable than suddenly a bunch of strangers flooding in from any corner.

we're all just playing dolls and so far everyone is playing nice, we're keeping it that way.

we're also very sick in the head when it comes to Researcher!Freddy. I have been mainly kept everyhting related to the au in the discord server but I guess I'll attempt to post about it.

[boycarfreak]

the tags from this post lowkey possessed me and i couldn't get them out of my head the entire walk back home from a grocery run so i sat at the computer after dinner and typed this out instead of being productive. enjoy, haha?

“Do you wanna know what i opened my burner insta to today Max?”

Daniel breaks off their kiss and practically breathes on him, leaning away after indulgently laying a wet smooch on his lips when Max follows him on instinct. Not a real kiss, like the one they were sharing before with Max spreadeagle on top of Daniel’s sheets with Daniel lazily humping his hard-on onto the soft line of Max’s tummy from where he’s perched on his tummy. It takes a stretch of minutes where Daniel’s staring at him in silence for Max to finally process his words, brain cloudy in the way it gets when Daniel crowds in on him like this even after all these years.

“What is it?”

The smile lines around Daniel’s eyes from decades upon decades of contracting muscle to give way to the most stunning sunbright smile a man could wake up to from the other side of the bed, digs deep rivulets into his skin as Daniel’s lips stretch in a smile and he pecks the underside of Max’s jaw like he’s done something impressive when all Max’s really done is give a simple answer to a question he’s been asked. That doesn’t stop a small smile from ticking up the corners of Max’s own lips, that’s just the effect Daniel has on people.

“It was a shot of you in your fireproofs” Daniel whispers consiprationally into his skin as he peppers a trail of kisses from his jaw to his breastbone, nibbling at spots of skin along the way leaving max shivering in their wake. “You were going all inspector mode on you car baby, but the people in the comments were doing exactly that with you ” Daniel drops a kiss to his sternum, ticklish when his beard snags at the motion and looks up at Max through his lashes, chin digging into the soft give of where his belly just starts. “They were calling you so shaped Maxie, they were calling your white fireproofs a blessing on humanity and god the things they were threatening to do with your tits sweetheart” A white hot burst explodes in Max’s belly at that, inches from where Daniel’s face palmed himself on to Max like this is too much for him as well. Max’s never particularly been bothered with the way his chest’s filled out in the past couple years in particular from all his workout regimes. Nor has he been phased by comments of the kind he’s seen people leave under his own posts or the Redbull official accounts. But just like with everything else when its coming from Daniel, when Daniel seems to like it that people other than him are looking at and thinking about Max in this way, its enough to get Max straining in his boxers.

“But you Daniel of course are the only one that gets to do anything to my tits” His words give way to a sharp gasp when Daniel twists the bud of his left nipple between long fingers, almost as if in retaliation. His head swivels up and his eyes bug out like he wasn’t expecting the reaction. “Sensitive, are we?” He flattens his palm over Max’s left pec and skates the bitten raw fingernail of his thumb over the bud, hungrily absorbing every twitch in Max’s facial expression when he visibly looses his breath over it.

Daniel shoots up, spine ramrod straight the way he’s always trying to get Max to sit and in one collective scoop he’s got two palmfuls of Max cupped in his hands. He’s kneading the muscle of Max’s chest the way you’d do a girl’s, not just the nipples but all around it as well, like Max might defy biology and have gotten arioles overnight. And he might as well with the way his brain feels like its leaking out of his ears. Its only worsened when Daniel goes, “Think you can cum just from this Maxie?”

Daniel thumbs his nipples until they’re halfway to chaffed, whispering sweet praise on how perfect Max is, how good he’s being for him, how much Daniel loves the way Max’s team polos stretch a little too tight across his chest nowadays and how much he loves the image of Max prancing around in his fireproofs “tits bouncing” from across the paddock. In the end its Daniel taking one of his rubbed raw nipples and biting down hard that has him yelping and coming in his boxer briefs. Daniel’s there in an instant, kissing away tears Max didn’t realise he was crying and murmuring endless praise in his ears.

He’s still coming down from his haze when he feels Daniel shift an arm between them to fist his own cock, frantic strokes Max halts in an instant with a hand tugging at Daniel’s upper arm. Daniel flexes the muscle there like he has to overcome a reflex compelling him to bat Max’s hand away and makes questioning eyes at him.

“Here Daniel, on my chest with my tits you can” Max pushes his pecs together in demonstration. Daniel’s mouth actually hangs for a second, “You-- you want me to fuck your tits sweetheart? Is that what you want?” Max bobs his head up and down the best he can from where he’s straining his neck to look up at Daniel.

Daniel presses his dick into the little channel Max’s made for him between his tits and makes a noise like he’s been wounded. He anchors a palm onto the mattress next to Max’s head and thrusts in sloppy strokes. “You’re so perfect for me Maxie. So perfect and pretty and tight even here” Daniel pants and thrusts and thrusts and cums in pearly ropes all over Max’s neck, the final spurts dragged out of Daniel leaving tracks on his chest.

Max’s dick jumps at the compliment like he didn’t just cum hard enough to have his mind blown to bits only a handful of minutes ago. Daniel seems to feel it too almost telepathically, because he scoots back on Max’s torso and makes himself snug on his thighs. Peeling Max’s underwear off where his cock is half chubbed again and lying in a mess of his own jizz.

“Being all tight and perfect for me gets you off this good baby?” There’s a teasing little glint in Daniel’s eyes, like he’s taunting Max for liking this a little too much, like Max won’t always like everything ever so long as its with Daniel, like the same isn’t true for Daniel, like they aren’t both intimately aware of this information. Like Max is eighteen again and can’t take his eyes off of Daniel through every pr challenge side quest Redbull’s stupid marketing department kept sending them to, and like he’s twenty one again and jizzed in his skintight jeans from the first time he’s made out with Daniel, tipsy and loose lipped with a heart cracked open at his going away party.

Daniel moves to wrap a hand around his dick but seemingly thinks better in the last second, he’s belly flopped into the space between Max’s splayed open legs on the bed and the scorching wet heat of his mouth is enveloping him the next thing Max knows. Daniel sinks down on the entire length of him in one practised motion. Relaxing his throat and breathing in through his nose before he starts rhythmically fucking himself on Max’s cockhead. Max sneaks a hand into Daniel’s curls just to rest it there, as the oversensitive flush of it has his balls drawing up and then he’s coming down Daniel’s throat unannounced. Daniel slurps every last drop of him without complaint and pecks the inside of his thigh looking utterly sated himself.

When Max drags him up the bed hooking hands under his armpits afterwards, because he fully well knows Daniel’s not far from passing out with his nose half up Max’s ass, Daniel wraps his limbs around Max all koala-like and whispers into his ear. “Sugartits, that’s the internet’s new favourite nickname for you Maxie”