#delight delight delight De-fucking-light!!!!

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

the secret to happiness is doodling something catered to You Specifically. one second you're normal the next you're biting your own arm

#ouaghasfaifadkj WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE #having a great time rn #barnaby/eddie/howdy is affecting me more than i thought it would #its soooooo surface level but WHO CARESSSSS IM EXPERIENCING JOY #literally have to pause to bite my hand/arm tho its making me insane #sometimes happiness is drawing a puppet sandwiched between two bigger puppets & getting smooches from Both #delight delight delight De-fucking-light!!!! #happy chemicals in my brain!!! hello! i have not seen you in Days!!! #slamming my face into a wall but in happiness #absolutely unprompted #ouuugasahgshagfshaksjas #the ship is Not That Deep but its so Ough yk #pure indulgence!!! #again!! catered to Me Specifically!!! #im feeling so indulgent that i will treat myself to takeout tonight #i do not have it in me to cook #and im sick of canned soup & microwave meals!!! #sushi tonight babey!!! bento box!! #ill even force myself to do the rancid dishes ive been putting off for nearly a week #that will make the takeout even More of a treat! #i will feel more deserving of it and less Guilty!

[margotw10bis]

Pretty Baby. KNJ [m]

sugardaddy!namjoon x sugarbaby!reader

Genre: smut; short-story

Words: 5.3k

Synopsis: Namjoon is your sugar daddy. However, you can't deny how your heart is jumping in your chest when he calls you his "pretty baby"…

Warnings: rough sex; unprotected sex; gagging; spanking; oral sex (m. & f. receiving); Namjoon is huge 😳; he loves ass; use of "daddy"

1 → 2 → 3 (Bonus : Memories ; Doubts & Possibilities)

You wake up in an empty bed, still naked from the night before. You stretch to get rid off the sleep and you hear some fainted noises coming from the kitchen and living area. That means that Namjoon hasn't left yet. You jump on your feet and run towards him.

He is putting his shoes on. He looks so damn hot with his light cream suit and white shirt — even though you prefer him with nothing on. His shoulders are so large, you're pretty sure his clothes are tailor-made.

However, you don't have time to admire him and you jump into his arms. Feeling all the fabrics on your naked skin and having Namjoon hugging you with his strong big arms is delightful. You look even smaller like that. You secure your arms around his neck to pull him closer and you kiss him. At first gently but you get rougher. Namjoon groans in your mouth and it echoes right between your legs. You start grinding on his crotch as much as you can.

"Last night wasn't enough?" He asks with a smirk as he harshly slaps your ass as you like

"You know it's never enough"

It's true. Not only the sex, but everything. You can't enough of Namjoon but you know you can't say it. That's why you always try to have sex with him, it's your way to confess your love. Namjoon is not stupid, he probably reads right through you but how can he deny a hot girl wanting to fuck?

Namjoon squeezes your ass with his large palms and you moan. Fuck, you love feeling him so much, no matter the way. Seeing you that desperate makes Namjoon's cock harder. He grabs your hair and pulls you on your knees without holding back his strength. You like when he is rough. The hardness and coldness of the marble floor against your knees contrast with the wet fire coming from your pussy. You would like to grind on the floor to have some friction but all you can think about it the bulge in Namjoon's pants right in front of your face.

Your hands unbelt and unzip his suit trousers. Your mouth waters as you get to see his hard and huge cock in his underwear — the biggest one you have ever seen and it's delightful. You waste no time and pull his length out of its hideout. It stands straight and proud and fuck, you want to feel it. You stick your tongue out, ready to lick a fat strap all the way from the base to the tip but Namjoon pulls on your hair to prevent you from doing it.

"Beg" He orders with a deep voice that you know well

An instant wave of arousal washes over you and your pussy is so wet that you are pretty sure there will be stains dripping on the floor. Fuck, he is so dirty and hot, dominating. He is so damn perfect.

"Please, daddy, let me suck your cock. I want to taste it so bad" You implore

"Good girl" Namjoon praises as he uses your hair again to pull you closer

You get to finally put your tongue on his hard cock and the velvet of his skin makes you close your eyes in delight. You tease his tip, rolling your tongue around it and kissing it. You spit on his dick to help your hand sliding up and down while you suck on his balls. Sloppy sounds fill your flat entrance and you know Namjoon loves it. He loves messy blowjobs and you love giving them to him. You lift your head up to finally take his cock into your mouth. The wetness and the warmest of it drives Namjoon crazy. He loves how you suck him off, your tongue rolling around and your cheeks hollowing. He groans and grabs your hair tighter. It could hurt if it didn't make you hornier.

Namjoon takes control and holds you still by your hair. He starts moving his hips to fuck your mouth that you open wider to ease the access. He fucks deep and hard, hitting the back of your throat. You choke and gag but Namjoon's praises make it worth it.

"My little girl loves when I fuck her throat, uh?" He asks with a smirk even though he knows you can't answer

You start running low on oxygen and you tap Namjoon's thighs. He pulls out of your mouth, a line of saliva still connects your mouth and his cock, and you inhale heavily. That makes him laugh and he mocks you:

"Is my cock too big for your little mouth?"

He perfectly knows the answer so he doesn't wait for any respond and shoves his length back into you mouth. Your eyes water as he keeps hitting the sweet spot of your throat. The sounds coming from your mouth drooling around his dick are loud and fucking hot. Some saliva escapes your lips, runs down his length and balls to continue their journey to your chest. This is a real messy blowjob and you love it. But not as much as Namjoon. He is seeing your pretty face destroyed by his cock and the way your eyes are full with tears. Your shiny breasts from saliva are a sin. He wouldn't hesitate to go to hell for that anyway.

He wishes he had time but he has to go to work. However, you have been such a good girl, you deserve a reward. He pulls out of your mouth, leaving you with messy lips and chin and makes you stand up again. He kisses you before pushing you against the nearest wall, chest against it.

Namjoon smirks when he sees the bruises he left on your hips and ass the night before. You arch you back so he can see your glistening pussy. You can feel some of your juices running down your inner thighs. You are not the only one to notice it: Namjoon's eyes darken at the sight of it. Fuck, he loves how your body reacts to his touch. You're such a precious baby and he would like to keep you all for himself. He has already planned to buy you a diamond neckline for the perfect blowjob but now he is thinking about adding some matching earrings to reward your pretty pussy.

He slaps your right asscheek so hard that you jolt. He caresses the reddened skin to soothe the pain.

"You have such a pretty ass. I can't wait to fuck it" Namjoon whispers, more to himself than to you

You whine and jiggle it, making Namjoon's cock twitch. Namjoon is an ass guy, especially in front of your amazing one.

"Please, daddy" You moan as your pussy painfully clenches around nothing

You need him to fill you. You know your pussy is still swollen and sensitive from the past night but you are way too in love with his fat dick to care about it.

"Pretty baby" Namjoon growls as he slowly enters you

"Fuck!" You exclaim

The stretch is painful and delightful. Your legs immediately shake and Namjoon has to secure you with an arm wrapped around your waist. Your eyes shut down and you loudly moan his name. He starts pumping you at a fast pace. He gives you hard dick strokes, slapping your ass with his covered abs. Your hand grabs his forearm around your frame and your nails dig into the fabric of his expensive suit. He quickens his pace, making your eyes roll back by pleasure. You wonder how you're not open in half already.

"Your cock feels so good" You manage to say with a choked voice

Namjoon has never confessed that he loves when you praise him. He loves when you say how good he makes you feel. Surely, he knows — you cum hard every time — but he still wants you to say it out loud. It makes him proud. Your little compliment makes Namjoon dive his face into your neck. He bites your thin skin and he feels your pussy clenching. He presses you harder against the wall to pound you deeper.

Your legs shake even more as you start to get tired of standing on your tiptoes — you have no choice since Namjoon is way taller than you. You throw your head back to rest on his shoulder, your free hand holding you thanks to the wall. That gives more space for Namjoon to kiss your neck. He smiles against the new and the other fainted hickeys he has provided you multiple times. Even though he won't admit it, deep down, he knows he marks you to keep another men away from you. Only if he knew that he is the only one you want...

"Faster" You beg as you feel your orgasm close

Namjoon obeys and slaps the side of your ass, tightening your pussy even more around his cock.

"Fuck, your pussy is so tight" He growls in your ear

His deep voice mixed with his harsh poundings drive you to the edge. You cum screaming his name. You shake so much that Namjoon doesn't have any other choices than to stop his sliding even though he stays deep into your cunt.

"Can you make daddy cum?" Namjoon asks you when your breathe gets a little steadier

You nod, your hair sticking to your forehead with sweat. You are exhausted but you really want Namjoon to cum too. Actually, you love when he cums, especially if it's because of you.

Namjoon retakes his poundings, even harder than before. He doesn't have much time left and he is already late for work. His rough moves bring tears to your eyes. He is way too lost in his own lust to notice that his fingers rubbing your swollen clit are too much for you.

"Too-too much, daddy" You whine

"My baby can take it" He replies, even if he slightly slows the pace of his rubbing fingers

Your pussy clenches again due to the overstimulation and you know you're close again. Fuck, this is too much, your wonder how you will make it out alive. You can feel Namjoon's huge cock inside you and it's hitting the right place over and over again. You whine, moan, scream, all the same time. Your brain is completely disconnected and all you can feel is him. His cock, his hands, his breathe, his mouth. You're close to your orgasm but also to say you love him.

"I gonna cum" You finally say and Namjoon nods in your neck

"Cum for daddy"

That's enough for you to let go. You crumble into Namjoon's chest as your orgasm washes over you. You have no energy left in your body but Namjoon is close to release too. He grabs your ass and squeezes it.

"My perfect girl" He groans and it makes you blush, you wish you were

He pounds into your cunt a couple of times before you can feel shots of hot and thick cum inside you. Namjoon rests his head on your shoulder as he catches his breathe. He caresses your stomach and kisses your neck. You love how tender he is after fucking you so roughly. His duality is perfect. Fuck, you love him so much that you could cry right now.

"It was really good" You whisper as you gently rub his arm with the tip of your fingers

"You make it easy, baby" Namjoon chuckles in your ears and it's the most beautiful sound in the whole universe

He pulls out of your pussy and you wince at the emptiness. Namjoon looks at this pants to check if he needs to change. Thankfully the mess is between your legs so he doesn't waste time and buckle up his trousers. He tries to fix his hair but he actually does the opposite. You laugh as you witness it and go save him. You run your fingers through his soft blond hair.

"Here you go" You announce when you're done

Namjoon is so handsome. You get jealous when you think about all the women who will hit on him during the day.

"Thanks, babe" He says before kissing you "I have to go. I text you soon"

With that, he steps out your place — the place he actually bought for you — and leaves you in the entrance, naked and ruined, both by his dick and by the feelings growing inside you.

————

"Why don't you confess your feelings?" Jimin, your best friend, asks you

He is the only one knowing about all the sugar daddy/baby thing between Namjoon and you. It's not like you're ashamed of it but people tend to easily judge and you have no doubt that they will see you as a prostitute. Jimin, on the other hand, never judges people. He is way too sweet for that.

"It's not that simple. There is a contract" You sigh "I'm not the only sugar baby. Namjoon told me once that one of them said she was in love with him and he cut all the ties. I don't want it to happen. I rather have a sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship than nothing at all"

"But you're hurting" Jimin adds, worried about you

"It doesn't matter"

"Yes, it does, Y/N"

You sigh again. You don't know what to say. Maybe it's stupid to shut your mouth out of fear but you can't risk loosing him. Yes, it hurts like hell knowing that Namjoon has other sugar babies. Yet, you feel so good in his arms. Just for one night, it's worth all the pain. Perhaps some people would say you're pathetic and stomp on all the feminist fights but you don't see it that way. Namjoon does care about you. And you care about him. So what's wrong about being paid for doing something you like with someone you love? It's better than having to do a job you hate and barely making a living out of it.

Your phone notifies you have received a text. Your heart skips a beat when you see Namjoon's name on your cellphone. 'Hi, baby. How are you? I left some documents at your place yesterday. Could you bring them to my office please? Otherwise, I'll ask some of my employees'. A big smile brightens your face. You will never miss the opportunity to see Namjoon. You text him back that you'll bring him the documents in thirty minutes.

You leave Jimin to run to your place. You make sure you don't forget anything and head to Namjoon's office. You only went there once, about nine months ago. It was at the beginning of your relationship. You were curious about his work and wondered how he could have so much money — he bought you a fucking apartment in downtown Seoul for god's sake! You understood quickly when you saw Namjoon's last name on the building: he inherited the company from his dad and was now the CEO.

The main reason why he chose to have sugar babies rather than a normal relationship with a girlfriend is that he doesn't have time to date. He doesn't have time to provide the affection his girlfriend would need. However, he still wants to have sex and not only with random girls. He wants to build some kind of connection with someone. Having sugar babies was the best option: he has sex with hot girls, knows them, appreciates them and he can take care of them.

"Hi, I have some documents to give to Mr. Kim" You say to the receptionist

She looks at you, quite surprised. You surely don't look like an employee or a business partner with your light pink sundress. She calls Namjoon's assistant to check if you're lying but when his assistant confirms you are actually expected, she mentions you the way to the elevators and the floor you need to reach. You thank her and follow her instructions. Soon enough, you step in the twenty-sixth floor. You look around, not knowing if you should head to the right or to the left. Thankfully, Namjoon's assistant comes to the rescue.

He is almost as tall as Namjoon but their physics are quite the opposite. While Namjoon is brawny, his assistant is quite slim. The brown hair and the delicate features of his face make him look like a prince.

"Hi, you must be Y/N" He welcomes you with a deep and warm voice

You nod, blushing under his perfect smile. Fuck, he is hot.

"Follow me, Mr. Kim is waiting for you"

You nod again, your throat dry. You didn't expect Namjoon to have such a handsome assistant. Actually, you thought he would hire a hot chick so he could ogle at her all day long. Would you say you're relieved? But that doesn't mean he doesn't ogle at other hot employees.

The assistant knocks on his boss's office door and opens it for you. You enter and meet a devilishly sexy Namjoon. When he wears a simple black suit with a black tie and a white buttoned up shirt, your legs get weak. He lifts up his head and gives you his dimple smile that makes your heart melt. He is like the brightest star in the sky.

He waits for his assistant to close the door and walks to you. He kisses you deeply and even if he has just fucked you yesterday against the wall — and you still feel swollen —, you missed his lips. You missed him.

"Hi, pretty baby" He whispers against your lips

Fuck, he will kill you. His sweetness is dangerous for your sake.

"I brought you the documents. Hope I didn't forget anything"

Namjoon runs through the papers you hand him.

"No, it's perfect" He says

He takes the time to look at you. He frowns when he notices how pretty you are in that dress he didn't buy you. He loves buying you things, and he loves even more when you wear them. So is it a new dress? He is quite surprised, he knows you don't like shopping.

"New dress?" He can't hold his curiousness

"It's a gift from Jimin"

Namjoon's jaws clench. He met your best friend about three months ago for your birthday. The guy was quite nice but Namjoon didn't like how often he was touching you: giving you hugs, wrapping your shoulders with his arms or kissing your cheeks. And now he is buying you clothes? It is supposed to be Namjoon's thing. He is your sugar daddy.

"Nice" He says between gritted teeth

You chuckle at his reaction. You never thought you'd see him jealous. Only if you knew how much possessive he is... You wrap your hands in the back of his neck, caressing the end of his locks. The softness of your gesture relaxes Namjoon's features. He puts his hands on your ass, squeezing and patting it. He can even feel your panties through the thin fabric of the dress. He can also feel his cock slowly hardening.

"Do you have time for lunch?" You ask with hope

To be honest, it's pretty rare when you two go out. Most of the time, when you are together, you have sex at your place. Oddly enough, now that you think about it, you have never seen Namjoon's apartment.

Namjoon sighs.

"Unfortunately no. I have too many things to do. I'm not even sure I have time to eat"

You eyebrows furrow. You don't like when he is not taking care of his health while he always makes sure you do.

"Do you want me to bring you some food?" You propose

Namjoon smiles before kissing you again. 'Cute' He thinks. He has always loved how caring you are. He can clearly see the difference between you and his other sugar babies: you care about him, not really his money. Sometimes he even wonders why you have accepted to be his sugar baby in the first place if you don't care about money — not that he's complaining. However, it makes him want to spoil you even more.

"It's okay, don't worry about me" He answers

He grabs your hand and walks towards his chair. He sits down and pulls you down with him to make you sit on his lap. He kisses your perfect lips before going down to your neck. He should mark you again to keep your friend away. He sucks on your sensitive skin and you pull on his hair. You bite your lower lip to mutter your moans.

"The only thing I would like to have for lunch is your pretty pussy" He teases in your ear

Your cheeks redden at the scandalous idea of spreading your legs in Namjoon's office. He drives you so crazy that you could agree to anything to please him.

"You can" You say despite your choked throat

He hums against your neck. He lifts you up so you can lie down on his desk. He still is sitting on his chair. He can see lust in your eyes and he loves it. You open your legs for him and your dress slides to rest on your lower tummy. Namjoon has a clear view on your soaked panties, the last barrier to access your pussy. He gets closer, putting his face right between your legs. You feel his heat on your covered pussy. He hardly sniffs you, smelling your arousal. You grow embarrassed and cover your red cheeks with your hands. Your shyness makes Namjoon smiles: you are ready to be eaten out in his office but you are still embarrassed of him smelling you.

"You have to be quiet, you don't want daddy to have trouble for making you cum at work, do you?"

How can he say something so sinful so casually? The fact that he's shameless makes you clench around nothing. You want him. Now. You don't care someone could come in and see you like that. You only care about Namjoon.

"Yes, daddy"

Namjoon is satisfied with your answer and slides your panties down your legs. He smirks at your shiny cunt full of juices. He steals your panties and hides them in his suit pocket. He will need them tonight when he will jerk himself off thinking about you.

Namjoon kisses your clit and your legs shiver. You didn't think you were still so sensitive. To be honest, you didn't rest so much after the two rounds of hard poundings offered by Namjoon during the previous two days. Maybe he doesn't care or maybe he just loves ruining you, but he doesn't go gently on your swollen pussy. He licks you with strength, taking fat straps from your dripping entrance to your sensitive bud to savour your sweet taste. You mutter your moans with your hand and the other one grabs his hair. You tug so hard on it that Namjoon groans against your pussy.

"Fuck, daddy" You moan

Namjoon settles his tongue on your clit, rolling and sucking on it, while he enters you with two fingers. You gasp. Fuck, you're so tight that two digits stretch you out.

"I love how tight your pussy is" Namjoon whispers

He presses his fingers against your g-spot, pulling in and out at a quick pace. Wet squishy noises are created by his fingers in your cunt. You get more and more messed up by his touch. He sucks harder on your clit, making your back arch to feel him more.

"Can my baby take another one?" He asks

"I can't, it's already too much" You confess but Namjoon pushes your limits, sliding another finger in you "Oh my fucking god!" you exclaim

Namjoon smirks, seeing that you actually love how he opens your tight pussy with his digits. Some of your arousal escape from your cunt and roll down to your ass. It even stains his desk. He leaves your clit to bite into the flesh of your inner thighs. Your head rolls back under the pleasure. You can feel how close you are to cum. Namjoon feels it too with the way your walls tighten around his fingers. You're a mess on his desk with your legs wide open while he is pounding you with his fingers. And fuck, he loves it. His precious baby.

"Come on, cum on daddy's fingers" Namjoon spurs as he dives back onto your clit

You do, trying to not scream his name. You see white spots everywhere because of your strong orgasm. Your whole body shakes. Namjoon loves how hard you cum, quivering at every single orgasm he provides you.

"You did great, baby" He praises as he gently kisses your thighs and pulls out of your pussy

You're out of breath, your brain still in the fog of your sexual high. Namjoon takes some tissues on his desk to clean you up, making your shiver. You are really sensitive now. For your sake, you should wait a few days before having sex again.

Namjoon helps you to get on your feet and hugs you tight, kissing your forehead. Fuck, you love when he does that.

"Where are my panties?" You ask him

"I'm keeping them" He answers, nonchalantly

Your eyes widen. How are you supposed to go out without underwear? Especially wearing such a short dress.

"But I-"

You are cut off by a knock on Namjoon's door. He takes it as a opportunity to shut your protests and shouts a 'enter!'. His handsome assistant appears and you pray he didn't hear you just cum. Your cheeks redden and Namjoon can clearly imagine what's going on in your pretty head.

"You have a meeting in five minutes, sir" His assistant notifies him

"Thanks, Taehyung, I'll be there soon"

Taehyung — as you now know his name — nods and leaves as fast as he has appeared.

"I won't be able to see you for a while" Namjoon announces out of the blue

"Why?" You sound way more desperate than you wish

"I have a one week business trip"

"When do you leave?" Your heart squeezes when you think you won't be able to see him for a whole week

"Tomorrow"

What?! This soon? You thought he would have told you before. If he didn't forget his documents and you didn't have to bring them to him today, maybe he wouldn't even have told you. This harsh thought deeply hurts you. Because it reminds you that you are not his girlfriend. You're just his sugar baby and he doesn't have to tell you anything. The main purpose of your relationship is to have sex, nothing more. You tend to forget that when he holds you so gently. Jimin was right: you are hurting.

"Okay..." You manage to say but you can't look at him in the eyes while yours are filled with tears

"I'll call you as soon as I come back" Namjoon promises

He kisses you one last time and lets you step out of his office. You meet again with Taehyung. He smiles brightly at you and you are so high over heels about Namjoon that you don't even notice how beautiful Taehyung finds you. He obviously doesn't know what kind of relation you have with his boss and honestly, he doesn't care. You seem sweet and he would like to know you more.

"Do you want a ride?" Namjoon hears Taehyung saying as he is about to step out of his office too

Namjoon stops his track immediately. What the fuck? Is his assistant flirting with you? How many men he has to keep away from you? It would be way easier if every male was blind.

"Aren't you on the clock?" You asks with your so sweet voice that Namjoon hates right now

"Mr. Kim won't need me until an hour, I can drive you" Taehyung explains

Namjoon clenches his fist around the handle of his office door. Are you going to accept? Fuck, he doesn't like it. He shouldn't be like that while he is sleeping with other women but he can't control his feelings.

On your side, you are thinking about the fact you currently don't have any panties. You can't take the risk to flash someone in the street if there is a breeze so you shyly accept. Taehyung and Namjoon's hearts squeeze but not for the same reason. He swears, Namjoon could fire his assistant right now.

————

Ten days. Ten fucking days without having a word from Namjoon. He said he would call you when he comes back and it has already been two days. But nothing. You constantly keep your phone close in hope he will text you but he doesn't. You don't know what to do. Until you phone finally lightens with a notification. However, you grow disappointed when it's not from Namjoon but from your best friend: 'Hi, girl! Do you want to grab some drinks tonight? :)'

You think about it for a couple of minutes and then you realize that it won't do any good to stay at home crying over Namjoon ignoring you. That's why you accept Jimin's invitation even though you don't make any efforts on your outfit and stay in your black jeans and black oversized t-shirt to go to the bar.

You spot your friend easily, his hair color close to Namjoon's. You hate yourself for this thought. Grumpy and sad, you quickly order a strong cocktail.

"What's going on?" Jimin asks

"I don't want to talk about it" You honestly say

Jimin nods and tries to cheer you up with his last disastrous hook up storytime. You smile a little but you don't laugh as your friend wanted you to. However, you surprise him with the amount of alcohol you swallow. You're not a heavy drinker but tonight you go wild.

"You should slow down" Jimin says

"Why? For Namjoon?" You scoff, swallowing another shot

"No, for you. I don't fucking care about him, Y/N" Jimin replies with furrowed eyebrows

"I should be more like you" You whisper sadly as you look at the bottom of the empty glass — just as empty as your soul right now

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Nothing" You sigh "That's the problem. He told me he would call me when he comes back from a business trip but he didn't. He must be with another sugar baby"

Your last sentence hurts even more now that you have said your thoughts out loud. You take Jimin's glass and drink it, swallowing both the alcohol and your tears. You don't want to cry. You're at the bar with your best friend, you should be happy.

"Sorry for not being in the mood" You apologize

"Don't be" Jimin comforts you, pulling you closer to his side and kissing your forehead "I'm here to do whatever you need to feel better. If you need to be grumpy and drink, do it. It you need to bitch on Namjoon, I'll be more than happy to do it with you"

You laugh a little, appreciating what a good friend Jimin is.

"Let's just get wasted and gossip about people" You end up saying

Jimin nods and starts his favorite hobby: telling you all the little secrets of his coworkers.

————

"I didn't know you were this heavy" Jimin slurs as he's dragging your drunken ass into your flat

You did stick to your proposition and actually got wasted. A little too much for your friend's taste who has to bring you home. You have drunk so much you can't properly walk.

Jimin slams the door and tries to walk you to your bed. You fall on it but drag your best friend with you. He growls as he attempts to rest on his arms not to crash you. But his efforts crumble down when you wrap your arms and legs around his body to hug him.

"You're the best friend ever" You say drunkly

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Can you let go?"

"Nope" You twit and hug him tighter

Jimin gives up and hug you too, feeling like it's what you need.

"You're such a pain in the ass sometimes" He jokes

Your laugh echoes in your entrance at the exact moment Namjoon enters.

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[galvanizedfriend]

HIII if you don’t mind sharing, what are your fav klaroline fics? New and old, I’m in need of new reads 🙏

I'm probably not the best person to be doing new fic recs. 🥲 I have sadly not been reading that much Klaroline myself these days. When I do read fic, it's for other stuff. So my recs are either old or new-ish. 😂 But hopefully you can find something to your liking that haven't read yet here.

Buckle up because I took my sweet time with this list, nonnie.

. Inertia Overcome by @avari20

The first KC fanfic I remember reading the reason why I finally got pulled into the fandom after years of watching TVD as a reasonable spectator (so rly, if you guys can't stand to see me around anymore after all this time, it's this fic's fault for being so good). Honestly one of this fandom's statement works. If you haven't read it yet, please do.

. Timeless by @marvelouskatie

Same as the above. One of the most iconic KC fics of all time imho. The canon AU to end all canon AU. When I first decided to come out of the shadows and create a tumblr and actually start interacting with folks, this was the first fic that was recced to me. I was very grateful then, and now I'm here to pass this knowledge on.

. Picturesque by @supernutellastuff

Honestly of the sweetest, most heartwarming fics I've ever read! It's a human AU that's a How I Met Your Mother sort of adaptation, and honestly the first time I've ever enjoyed HIMYM. I love a good ensemble fic and this is just it! Supernutella is so talented.

. Quiet Light by @definedareasofuncertainty

This fic was WRITTEN FOR ME because of how much I pestered my friend Luiza about Carolijah and this will forever feel like a trophy to my heart. 🥰 It made me feel ALL THE FEELINGS. I hated Caroline, I loved Caroline, I loved my baby Elijah, I hated him, I also hated Klaus (he's such a fucking asshole omfg), but then the end was just DHAGHDDASAS!! You think you're in for a certain kind of story and it turns out to be so much more. It is, deep down, about the brothers, how selfish they are, how they can hurt each other more than anyone, but how they love one another above anything else, even when they want to kill each other (and fall in love with their brother's girl!!!). It's beautiful, like everything Luiza writes, and it genuinely made me cry.

. long limbs and frozen swim by @definedareasofuncertainty

I saw a discussion the other day about how whoever wrote this fic JUST GOT IT, and I have to say I completely agree with the person who made that comment. Luiza just NAILS Caroline's grief and loneliness after her mother's death, how isolating and gut-wrenching it is. Klaus being the person who finds her, who knows exactly what to say without her ever having to spell it out, the one who can truly see her, is so honest too. This fic is sensitive and absolutely beautiful. Luiza's writing is perfection and this is for sure one of my all-time favorites.

. Whisper to me, Help me remember by @lalainajanes

This story reimagines the plot with the "villains" of TO S3 in a way that proves my point that the premise of that season was good, but execution was absolute crap. All of the potential the De Martels had to be incredible antagonists was completely destroyed at the hands of the show writers - but explored to perfection by Laine's much more capable hands. Klaus is freed after 10 years in captivity to find that Caroline had been working with Tristan this whole time in order to take him down - except something is not quite right about that. While you're at it, please read all of Laine's fics! It's a delight.

. Into the Woods by @jinxedwood

I wept when I read this because it's the post-TO canon fic I didn't even know I needed. Caroline's search for a way to stop her twins' merger ends up leading her to someone who's been watching over her on the Other Side. 😭 I thought I'd always rather live in denial when it came to how TO ended, but this fic made my heart so full! Also, jinxedwood's use of fae mythology here was incredible.

. All I Need by @euvixen

This story is HOT. It taught me things about the werewolf AU universe I was not prepared to learn, but I am a much happier person after reading it. It's a canon mates AU that will leave you 🥵🥵🥵🥵 I speak as though the story was merely about the smut, but it's actually much more than that. A TVD S3 reimagine of sorts that is incredibly satisfying. That's my favorite season of TVD, but this is still even better.

. the birth and death of the day by @little-miss-sunny-daisy

Anyone who's known me for a some time knows how this fic was my entire personality for a while there. I'm obsessed with Kelly's writing, and I have this fic on a freaking pedestal. I first started reading it when it was on a six years hiatus, and I was *so* into it I didn't even bother me that it might never get updated because it was so good I was just happy I'd found it. But then my silly comments inspired Kelly to come back to it, finish it, and it has honestly been my greatest accomplishment as a part of this fandom because this is a masterpiece. It's a TVD/Supernatural crossover where Caroline is a step-sister to the Superbros. It's truly, truly epic, with beautiful writing. This could genuinely be a show. It's amazing, just read it.

. this is a harvest by @highgaarden

This, right here, is the perfect Klaroline-within-canon story. This is the story that put my revolt to rest and gave my spirit some much deserved peace where those two are concerned. This is exactly what canon should've been like. I'm not even joking, this is IT. If you'd asked me what I thought the perfect Klaroline development should be like I probably would've said something very vague because I couldn’t explain it, I’m not that great or creative a writer, but now I can just show you this story and let you bask in the amazingness of a fantastic read that will not only keep you thoroughly entertained, but will also be the answer to all the questions you didn't even know you had.

. Paradise Lost by Borzoi

When i grow up, I want to learn how to write like Borzoi. All of their fics are incredible novella-like reads. It's addictive. And this is probably my favorite (it varies though, sometimes I'm in a Parisian Deal era). What happens after Klaus and Caroline sleep together in 5x11, and how they eventually find their way back to each other. It's just one of those stories that you can't stop reading after you start. It's so rich, so deep, so perfectly IC. One of those fics to end all fics.

. The Stubborn Grace of Being Loved Regardless by @helpless-in-sleep One of the modern day classics, if you will. This fic is such a stunning, vivid and delicate picture of Caroline's mind as she was dealing with the consequences of the abuse she suffered at the hands of Damon. She's still human, but she's probably more IC than we've seen her ever on the show when it comes to this. The bond she forms with Klaus is truly incredible too, and speaks a lot of how the two of them really do have a lot in common (even with Caroline still as a human), but it's really the Caroline study part of the story that touches me. The writing is absolutely beautiful as well.

. it takes a while to settle down by theviolinist

This story is a punch to your stomach, but it is PERFECTION in 8k words. It's hot, it's bittersweet, it's SO in character and, in my head, I kinda like to pretend that this is what happened before Caroline married Stefan. lol

. Wanderlust by @bellemorte180 Anybody who was a part of fandom around the time this story was being published can tell you how much of an EVENT it was. There were discussion groups about the mystery. It was so entertaining. Erica's attention to detail and how she wove the little clues throughout the chapters made this a genuine thriller. I particularly some of the side-characters here. It's honestly another fandom staple I think everyone should read.

--

In terms of newer fics that I can rec you, I have two that are on my TBR. One of them is a WIP that I've been slowly going through, and the other one I know was recently finished.

. make them bow by @stars-and-darkness

This was recced to me by two friends recently and I started reading it a while back and thought it was incredible! I have sadly been awful with keeping up with stuff, but just based on the raving reviews and the five chapters I read, I fully believe it to be just as awesome as it seems to be. The writing was so good, and I was just in love with Klaus' voice in this story. It was so reminescent of early-days TVD Klaus, which is by far my favorite Klaus of all. Sexy and dangerous and so smooth. I loved it! Need to get back to it.

. Wolf Club by @Radioactive79

Listen, if you like kid fics, this is absolutely for you. The whole story is narrated by an eight-year-old OC, the daughter of Ray Sutton, the first werewolf Klaus kills when he's trying to start his mass-production of hybrids. She's a little wolf herself, and a while little thing who was subjected to her fair share of child trauma. Klaus has no idea what to do with her, but ends up taking her with him as continues on his journey, and ends up forging a bond with the little girl. I cannot tell you how delicious this story is. It has Klaroline, yes, but for me the little girl is the absolute star of the company. I usually hate OCs, especially children, in fics, but this one is AMAZING. Seriously. The way this story is written is glorious. I can't recommend it enough.

#klaroline #klaroline fanfic rec #klaroline fanfiction #yokan answers #it's been a minute since i wrote such a long rec list! #i know i have some followers that are new-ish in fandom so i hope this might introduce some old classics to them #honestly this is all better than anything i've ever written #i'm spoiling y'all #hope you still want to read my crappy fics after going through this list nonnie lol #long post

[slamminslamminmcgill]

got silly goofy high and had an epiphany 😌 (had this cookin in my drafts for weeks yk how it be)

warning: breeding kink, piss kink, spit kink, intox, degradation/slurs

anatomical terms: pussy/cunt, t-dick

“Oh, god, you feel so good… Feels so fucking good, you little whore… You do this often? Spreading your legs for any old man who buys you a drink? Betcha have some real daddy issues, don’tcha, boy?”

Lalo grabbed your chin and spat in your face as he fucked you up against the bathroom stall.

“Slut.”

In response, you reached out and pulled him in closer, sobbing with pleasure into his shoulders. You squeezed him as tight as you could, inside and out. Your chests pressed together as your vice of a cunt milked him dry.

Lalo growled, stabbing his coke nails into your hips and viciously thrusting into you, his balls slapping into your t-dick, the two of you jiggling the flimsy lock on the stall that threatened to give way. “Oh, te pinche putito… Ngh, voy a venir… Voy a venir dentro de tí… Voy a llenarte y poner un pinche bebé en tí, joto… Mmm, te vas a estar tan lleno… Tan lleno de mi leche… (Oh, you little fucking slut… Ngh, I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum inside you… Gonna fill you up and put a fucking baby in you, faggot… Mmm, you’re gonna be so full… So full of my cum…)”

You had no clue what he was saying, but it sounded fucking hot. He wasn’t talking to you, moreso at you. This wasn’t a balanced exchange; you were just a hole, one of many he could’ve picked to empty himself in. Your limp body dangled in his arms as he used it, a lifeless sex doll for his sole pleasure. He jerked himself off with your pussy until he came with a loud-

“Fuck!”

And boom goes the dynamite. His hot cum spurted inside you, filling you up just like he said he would. As he flooded your hole, both of your brains flooded with dopamine. That physical satisfaction came alongside mental gratification, reinforcing this debauched behavior. You’d surely seek it out again.

Lalo laughed in delight as the relief washed over him. “Oh… Hah… Haha… Phew, you’re incredible, kid. Best fuck I’ve had in a really long time.” He swept your hair out of your face and tenderly kissed you on the forehead. “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?”

“Nonononono, keep it…” you whined, your limbs locking around his back, “K-Keep it iiin…”

“Aww, you’re precious, honey…” He cooed, peppering kisses along your neck. “But I have to piss, so I kinda have to take it out…”

For some stupid reason, maybe it was the cocktail of substances and the myriad levels of pleasure you were dealing with, or maybe just the immaturity of “haha piss funny”, you started snickering. A lot.

”Oh?” Lalo inquired, “What’s so funny, chiquito?”

The haze of goofy laughter dissipated, and what cast it away was the bright light of an idea. A sick, sinful, salacious idea. “Do you… Do you have to take it out?”

That made Lalo snort. He chuckled, shook his head, and replied, “Oh my god, no. No, baby, you don’t want that. I can’t do that to you… You’re too cute for that…”

You mewled with disappointment, hiding your face in his neck out of shame and praying to whatever god may be that you didn’t make this weird.

Lalo sweetly stroked your hair and sighed. “Look at me.” He commanded, snapping his fingers and you obeyed, picking your face up from the shadows. “You really want it?”

You nodded, your big puppy dog eyes bulging with need.

“Say please.”

“P-Please…”

“Please, who?”

Shit, what was this guy’s name again? He definitely told you… Oh, yeah. “Lalo… P-Please, Lalo…”

“Please, Lalo, what?

Oh, god, he was gonna make you say it? Beg for it, even? …Eh, whatever. Fuck it. “P-Please, Lalo… P-Pee inside me…”

“Good boy.” Lalo pressed his lips to yours. “I will, since you asked so nicely.”

For a few moments, everything was still. Nothing outside the bathroom stall existed, let alone mattered to you right now. All that mattered was Lalo’s cock throbbing inside you. You waited, and waited, you weren’t sure for what. Then, the signal came.

Lalo grunted, “Here it comes, baby.”

And so it did. The most prominent sensation was the intense heat pooling inside your debased hole, filling up what little space there was around his cock. You squirmed and squeaked, gripping his floral shirt in your fists.

“Fuuuck, Lalooo… so waaarm…”

“I know, right?” Lalo dotted more wet kisses along your jaw and neck. “You like it?”

“Mhmmm…”

“Good boy…” He praised, petting your hair while he pissed inside your pussy. You were so full. It was so hot. The pressure was becoming too much to bear. “I’m almost done, honey. You’re taking it so well. You ever do this before?”

You shook your head. “N-No…”

“Well, get ready. It’s about to get even better.”

You were left pondering the meaning of that remark for maybe a second, until his still-hard cock slid halfway out of your hole. His hot piss gushed out and splashed onto the floor. The release of pressure and heat felt like nothing you had ever experienced. You trembled, moaned, and drooled as he slammed his cock back in, picking up where he’d left off: fucking you stupid.

Lalo hissed obscenities in your ear as he fucked you with renewed vigor. “Ngh, qué asco… No creo… No creo que me dejaste hacer eso… Ahh, Acabo de mear en tu chocho, te pinche puto estúpido… Qué un… Mmm, qué un cerdito sucio que eres… (Ngh, so gross… I can’t… I can’t believe you let me do that… Ahh, I just pissed in your cunt, you stupid fucking whore… What a… Mmm, what a dirty little piggy you are…)”

Dripping with piss and cum, you spared a thought for the janitor who’d have to clean this stall later. Hopefully, they wouldn’t know it was you.

#piss kink #lalo salamanca smut #lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca #lalo salamanca hcs #lalo salamanca imagine #lalo salamanca headcanons #bcs #bcs x reader #better call saul #better call saul x reader #better call saul imagine #better call saul smut #better call saul headcanons #better call saul hcs

[pennyserenade]

The Hollywood Hedonist Method

pairing: dieter bravo x you, dieter bravo x reader rating: explicit (oral sex (female receiving), pinv, unprotected sex, light dirty talk (a little degrading), sex in public place (?), soft dom!reader, soft dom!dieter tags: references to drugs, talk of suicide (not serious), a self pitying dieter bravo word count: 2.9k+ summary: dieter's movie is bad and he looks to you for a quick fix to a long problem. a/n: is this the most inspired piece i ever wrote? probably not but i did have a lot of fun writing it. i wouldn't say this is my usual writing style, but i'm trying something new on here and i hope you like it. if you'd like to be updated on when i post my writing, follow my writing updates blog @belovedinfidels

He fingers you on the black marble countertop, his mess of crushed ambitions transformed suddenly into a hardy joie de vivre as you accept his tongue into your mouth. Salacious stories be damned: this is better than any page six bullshit could cover, his strong body settled between your widened legs, his long fingers curled in the warm comforts of your body. He breathes you in, drinks you up. 

Your whiskey soaked tactlessness is divine tonight. It offers a heady respite from the impending dark cloud of his self doubt. He doesn’t even mind that you don’t realize how gloomy this shit makes him. He feels like one of those goddamn characters in Sunset Boulevard, switching between the dead bloodied man floating in the pool of his own ambition, and the frenzied, forgotten actress with the warm gun of delusion in her hands. He hates that he’s miserable over his fucking shitty movie, and he’s so hard it’s embarrassing, and a little confusing, and you’re beginning to squirm and he wonders if maybe his tongue might make you shake and—-

“Dieter!” 

You dig crescent shaped imprints on the pale, freckled skin of his shoulders. His tongue makes you shout–better than he could’ve ever hoped for. It’s the ego boost he needs. Plus, you’re so goddamn wet that it’s coating his chin and he’s only just got on his knees. That’s nice, too. 

He licks up to your swollen clit, tonguing it until you let out delightful little mewls and writhe beneath him. When you close your legs around his head, he lets out a moan. You taste like the closest thing to penitence he’ll ever get. He could eat your pussy all night if you let him. Really. There’s some things he knows for certain, some things even bad fucking movies and a deflating ego can’t rob him of, and his love for this is one of them. The act of spreading a woman apart and eating her like she’s ripe pickings from the Garden of Eden almost drives him to romanticism sometimes. He is sure he could write poetry about this. He bets your pussy’d look so pretty on a canvas. He’s never drawn a pussy from memory, but he’s gonna try it tomorrow and—

“Are you okay?” you rasp, looking down at him with a frown. 

Well, maybe it can rob me of this, he thinks bitterly. 

Your grip turns more forgiving in his hair, your fingers sympathetically pushing his locks back from his face. He comes up, his slick-glistened lips forming into what you suspect is meant to be a reassuring grin. It looks more like a grimace. You run a thumb affectionately over his cheek and he groans, pushing it off with his shoulder. He positions himself back between your legs. When you pull at his hair again, trying to get him to look at you, he winces sharply. 

“Dammit,” he mutters, dark eyes deep wells of glazed frustration. “If I don’t make you cum I’m going to jump out of the window,” he deadpans. 

You’ve always hated the kind of people who make you wonder what’s a joke and what’s not, because it’s a constant commotion of miscommunication. Life becomes a bad joke, a joke that is in constant need of explaining, and you’ve never liked that. Dieter is the sort that seems to be hanging on the edge of I don’t know, the kind who seems to be supplanting real answers for half funny, half serious ones. The uncertainty he posits is a product of the uncertainty he feels - you can tell already - but you’re not exactly enthused to decipher him for the rest of your life. 

You frown. You’d only met him under strobe lights not even two months ago, shouting over the music to get to know one another. He had tasted of stale cigarettes and early morning remorse, and he’d taken you in the women’s bathroom, pressed you against the bathroom stall, and fucked you with bruising intensity. Then he had written his number on the palm of your hand, and kissed you chastely on the mouth after it was all over. There’s no future here. You won’t be deciphering anything. 

“Sit on my face,” he implores. Dieter delivers the sentence like he’s asking you if he can hold your hand. His fingers grip at your thighs and his breath grazes the inside of your legs. When he presses his lips to the side of your cunt, you close your eyes against the sensation. He tongues the spot, laughing shakily as you ease underneath him. Your hips press forward and he takes it as acceptance. “Or don’t,” he says. His tongue teases at your lips, and you can hear the grin in his tone when he says, “I’ll eat you out like this. That’s just fine, too.” His tongue nudges into your opening and you gasp. Your hand finds his hair again. “But tell me you want it.” 

His lips press to the side of your pussy again. You gush involuntarily at the sound of a husky voice, at the way he hovers over you with the promise of more. 

“Mm.” You look down your body at him, making eye contact as he presses kisses closer and closer to your glistening clit. He nods his head at you, encouraging you as he begins twirling his tongue around the area. “Actors are so goddamn self absorbed,” you say. He nods wordlessly again, smiling against your skin. He doesn’t tongue your clit, though. You want him badly to take it into his mouth. To suck—

“Fuck, please,” you plead. “I want it.” 

His eyes glimmer. You feel his hot breath all over you, and can hardly stand the sensation of it. You want to ride his face, make him bring you to orgasm your own way. You nearly forget his sad, petulant attitude in your impatience. 

He takes your clit in his mouth, sucks eagerly as you stroke your nipple through the thin cotton of your dress. Dieter is greedy even in his giving, taking as much of you as you’ll let him. He enters a finger into you—a finger that goes in with an embarrassing ease—and then another when you moan lewdly into the enclosed air of this someone else’s bathroom. His face moves with your hips, letting you rock against the rhythm his own fingers set. You moan his name and he goes faster, and you feel on the brink of imploding. 

Your eyes close and you focus on his mouth, and the fury with which he works at your swollen clit, and you think of his fingers, and the way your cunt clenches around them, large as they are. As you cum against his mouth with an unapologetically guttural moan, he surprises you with the seriousness of his intent—how he does not look up at you or smirk against you, but works devoutly at building another orgasm up. You grip the edge of the sink and your head thuds against the mirror as it lolls back. The glass reverberates but neither of you care; your ass is gradually rising off the counter and his body is rising up, one of his legs kneeled on the ground and the other one hovering. He makes you cum again in a matter of seconds. 

In between your second and third orgasm, his belt buckle jingles open and he’s risen all the way up. He comes up for air, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and then he kisses you on the mouth. He’s wet with your juices down to his chin and he’s not afraid to spread the taste of you against your tongue. There’s a drop of pre-cum wetting the blue of his tight boxer shorts. You grab onto his jean loops and jostle him closer. He comes without protest. 

“You shouldn’t ask a man how he feels when he’s eating you out,” he tells you. His head is pressed against your chest and he’s looking down at himself, at the way his cock is strained in his boxers. He’s hard as hell. He looks back up at you with intense eyes. “It’s likely he feels pretty fucking good.” 

“Shut up,” you groan. You stuff your hand down the front of his open jeans and his neutrality fades into a smirk. His hips jerk as you palm him and he whimpers, desperate as ever. You fist his hair, driving his neck back so you can kiss along the column of his throat. “The movie wasn’t even that fucking bad,” you tell him. He laughs and you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips. You suck at the skin there. If he minds, he doesn’t say. His eye lashes flutter against his cheeks and he happily grinds against your hand. You think you could make him beg, if you wanted. You think maybe he wants to. 

You withdraw your touch suddenly and he whimpers, pupils blown wide with desire. He goes from confused to uncertain. “What?��“ 

“Ground,” you command. He nods curtly. 

He peels off his jeans and underwear on his way down to the cold, sterile tile, making no qualms about being bare ass naked on his employer’s bathroom floor. They are downstairs and they’re partying, and even if they weren’t he wouldn’t give a damn anyway. That’s the appeal of him, isn't it? It’s why the public buys the magazines and watches the movies he’s in. Dieter is a brilliant train wreck and they want to see. 

That movie they put him in was so goddamn commercial and so heartless, and so contrived. He hopes he gets cum on the black shower mat because of what they’ve done to him. 

“I’ve got no condom,” he tells you suddenly, remembering. This had been so spur of the moment. A hand on your knee under the table turned to a hand in your underwear and suddenly you were both up here. His face scrunches up, waiting for rejection. 

He supposes he could make do, maybe just ask you to talk to him while he masturbates this hard-on away. Are you into that sort of thing? He supposes it’s a little exhibitionist, and he knows that’s not everyone’s cup of tea but—

You don’t seem to give a shit. You straddle his hips and look down at him. You’re still a little loopy from your orgasms but confident in your approach-confident that he wants this badly as you think he does and goddamnit if you’re not right. He ought to be responsible and ask you the slew of questions responsible people ask before they bury their cocks into nice women such as yourself. Birth control? Have you fucked anyone else and do you think they might’ve given you something? When’s your birthday? Middle name? But he doesn’t. He breathes steadily beneath you, excited and so fucking worked up he’s afraid the first heavenly push into you might be the last one if you’re not careful with him. 

He doesn’t even know if you won’t tell the paps about this. Maybe you will. Maybe the price of this will be a magazine spread featuring a bad airport photo of him and the headline “DIETER BRAVO OUT OF CONTROL: L.A. FLING TELLS ALL.” And this L.A. fling will know all, will have everything to tell. In a matter of seconds he tries to decide what kind of person you are. He softens a bit, and you notice immediately, and that fresh Hollywood self pity is back and he softens some more.  

Before you can ask if he’s okay again, he heaves a telling sigh. “Too much or not enough drugs,” is his response. It was good while it lasted. What’s the worst that can tell them now? That he eats pussy to make up for his drug induced impotence on bad days? 

You look confused, maybe even a little wounded. No, you are wounded. He squeezes your hip as if to say “You did your best” and this hurt flashes more visibly across your face. Well. 

“Coward,” you tell him. His eyebrows raise to his hairline. 

“Hm?” he answers.  

You lean down, whisper it to him. “You’re a self pitying coward. It’s not the drugs. You’re making yourself miserable.”

“Listen—“ he starts indignantly, but you shake your head. Oddly, he’s getting stiff again. This has been the most embarrassing night of his whole fucking life—and perhaps the most telling. 

You look down between your bodies, pleased. “My theory was right.”

“Please,” he groans, “no more or I’m going to kill myself for real.” 

You laugh and it’s so genuine and that he laughs too, despite himself. You might be laughing at him for all he knows but it doesn’t feel like it. He decides once and for all, looking at you, watching you, that you won’t tell about this or about anything. If you wanted to, you would’ve already. And most importantly, he simply doesn’t want to believe you could be someone like that. He isn’t a coward. Not all the time. He takes a chance on you, here, now. 

“Are you on birth control?” he asks. You nod your head. “Have you been tested lately?” You nod your head again. He smiles. “Do you like me? Check yes or no.” 

You check yes — or at least he thinks. You kiss him tenderly, more tenderly than is good for him, and you both fall back into your hurried, lust riddled motions. You take his growing hard on in your hand and guide him into you. You lean your forehead on his and let him sheath himself inside of you. He goes slowly, wincing against the warmth of you squeezing around him. It feels so fucking good—dangerously good. He forgets about the stupid movie and the bosses down stairs and all that miserable shit about ruining their rugs.  

“Do you like it when I’m mean to you?” you whisper, once he’s fully inside. He looks at you, amused, and shrugs his shoulders. 

“I don’t know. Seems like it.”

“Do you think you’d like if…If I was controlling?”

He hums against your shoulder, bringing your body closer to his. “How so?” he asks. He begins guiding your hips, lifting you gently off his cock and slowly back down. 

“Make you beg,” you say quietly. “Maybe call you names, if you want. Maybe tell you how good you are when I think you’re good.”He twitches inside of you and you smile. He smiles too. 

“Actors are so self absorbed,” he jokes.

“Your movie wasn’t bad,” you assure again, more kindly. He doesn’t respond. He kisses the place between your neck and your shoulder. You quicken the pace that you ride him in and he nods gratefully, sighing softly. His knees draw up and you reposition slightly, feeling him more deeply inside of you as you grind back down into him. 

“Do you want to cum?” you ask him. You drive your hips up, gripping onto the hands he has on your hips, making him move in your slow, teasing pace once again. He bites at his bottom lip and doesn’t respond. You stop moving. He flashes his eyes up at you, annoyed and aroused and vaguely infatuated. “Of course,” he breathes out. 

“Tell me,” you taunt back. You resist when he tries to move you back down and he groans, but you feel him twitch in you again. 

“I know you want me to fuck you too,” he counters. 

“Sure,” you nod, “But remember: I’ve already cum three times and you’ve cum none. I think I can withhold far longer than you.”

He can’t help but smirk. That’s not good enough for you. You want him far gone for you, incoherent practically. You rise off his cock completely and he lurches forward, groaning. “No!” he says. “I want to cum!” he says, pawing at you. “Please!”

You hover over his glistening cock and pout. “Didn’t seem like it,” you taunt, moving your hips over him but not touching. His lips part but no words come out. “I want it to seem like it. You’re a big boy, Bravo and you can use your words, can’t you? I hate a man who can’t use his words—who’s afraid to.” You lean down, close to his ear. “I hate a coward.” 

“I—I can use my words,” he stutters. His fingers brush against your hips. “Please, just climb back on me and keep riding me. I—I need that.”

“Tell me.” 

“Fuck,” he grunts. “I need it so bad.” 

You grab his cock, stroke it lazily. “Again,” you say. His face twists up in what could be either pleasure or pain and he says, “Please. I need it. Need you.” 

He’s as hard and desperate as he was before. You kiss him hard on the mouth and allow him to take over again, guiding you down onto him this time. He flips you over, lays you down against the ground, and drives into you. You gasp and he smiles like he’s won a prize. 

“Can I—“ he fills you to the hilt. “—is it alright if I…Can I cum in you?”

You nod your head. He looks at you and you understand he wants more than just a nod. “Yes,” you answer. 

It doesn’t take much more than that. He gathers up your legs, drives into you with one or two more inspired thrusts, and then he’s growing rigid against your body, hot spurts of his cum filling you. He exhales softly into your neck. You think he might apologize for a moment but he doesn’t. Instead he thanks you. 

“Feel better?” you ask. He nods. 

“Much,” he says. “Hell—I might really be starting to think that the movie wasn’t so bad.” When he looks at you, you can tell he’s kidding. 

“Well,” you joke back, “At least even the bad movies get you fucked, huh?”

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo smut #the bubble #the bubble fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑨𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑮𝑳𝑶𝑾

pairing: chef!pero tovar x f!reader

genre: smut, fluff, romance, modern au, strangers to lovers

word count: 3.4k

summary: thanks to a reservation mishap, and an unexpected breakup via text, you find yourself sharing valentines dinner with a charming stranger.

warnings: oral (receiving), hint of dirty talk, piv

a/n: I was @lowlights secret valentine for the exchange we did in the dave server 💘 happy valentines, laura! I hope you have an amazing one, and I hope you enjoy this fic. It was super fun to write (and honestly a much-needed break from writing joel 24/7 lmaodfvdf) so thank you for that! 💘💘💘

The restaurant is flooded with people. The poor staff runs left and right, most of them carrying trays of food and the remaining others taking orders. It smells fantastic inside. You identify a hint of citrus in the air. The chatter is loud, but you can’t focus on any of it. Your bottom lip trembles, eyes glued to the phone screen in front of you. 

Sorry, I think we should see other people. This isn’t working out and I’m pretty sure you already knew this. 

Obviously, you didn’t have a clue he was feeling like this. If you had, you wouldn’t bother with making reservations two months prior. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, how on earth can you even reply to this? Who the hell would dump someone over text on Valentine’s Day. Not that you attach a lot of sentiment to the day, but still, it’s quite a dickish move no matter if you care for the day or not. He could’ve waited another day—He could’ve at least had dinner with you, knowing that you’ve put a lot of effort into planning it all. 

Frowning, you place the phone face-first over the ridiculously soft tablecloth. He was right. You should have seen it. You weren’t happy, you were just comfortable. 

“Excuse me ma’am?” 

Blinking, you look up to the waiter. He genuinely seems upset to have pulled you away from your train of thought, but honestly, you were grateful. When you smile, he mimics your expression, seemingly more relieved. 

“Will your date be arriving soon?” 

Ah, now that’s a question. 

“Uh…well,” you lower your gaze back to you phone, an awkward smile touching your lips. “He just broke up with me so…no?” 

“Oh, I’m very sorry to hear that Ma’am,” you’re not a fan of how robotic he sounds, like he’s used to it, but you swallow and wait for him to continue. “Do you want to proceed with the menu?” 

“Yeah, I mean I might as well. I made the reservations.” 

“Delightful—” he stills for a brief moment, clearly contemplating his next words. You raise an eyebrow. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“We’ve seemed to make a mistake when taking your reservation ma’am.” 

“Meaning?” 

“We accidentally reserved this table for another patron as well.” 

Isn’t that just delightful. Truly, this is just your luck, first get dumped and now you’re probably going to be asked to leave. De-fucking-lightful. 

“I guess you’re going to ask me to leave then,” you mutter, already reaching for your jacket. The waiter halts you by raising both hands, such a strained and calculated movement. 

“Ma’am, you have misunderstood. The other reservation has been made for one person only, I simply wanted to ask if it would be okay if he could be seated with you. I apologize for the inconvenience, we will be sure to bring complementaries for the both of you.” 

“Oh,” you slowly lower your hand, still a bit in shock. Swiping your tongue over your bottom lip, you nod. “Of course. And it’s alright, better than being by alone.” 

“Thank you, ma’am. I will be bringing him in shortly.” 

The waiter, true to his word, comes back only minutes later. 

The first thing you notice about the man meant to be your dinner partner for the evening is how broad he is. 

He looks down at you with a hint of amusement, dark brown eyes lingering over the empty chair sitting across from you. You swallow down your embarrassment. He’s wearing a white cotton pleat-front shirt, a dark forest-green velvet suit, a black bowtie, and a white pocket handkerchief for a pop of color. You notice a rather expensive-looking watch on his wrist. 

The waiter introduces the stranger, “This is Mr. Tovar. Once again I truly apologize on behalf of the establishment. We hope you enjoy your evening.” he says and disappears into the chaos. 

Mr. Tovar smiles, leaning forward, he offers you his hand. “You can call me Pero,” he says, a soft accent you can’t quite place in his voice. Your cheeks start to burn. “And you are?” 

Stumbling over your words, you manage to introduce yourself. He nods and takes his seat across from you, the waiters bring out the appetizers. It was a pre-planned Valentine’s menu. Looking down you notice the colorful and elegant platter, featuring thin, rosy-pink slices of beef arranged on a bed of dark green arugula and scattered with golden shavings of parmesan cheese. 

“Wow this looks amazing,” you mutter, and he agrees, picking up his fork. Not waiting for this to be a silent supper, you clear your throat before speaking. “So…Mr. Tovar—” 

“Pero is fine.” 

“Pero,” you repeat, enjoying the way the name feels on your tongue. “What brings you here alone? You got dumped too?” 

“I just enjoy food,” he stuffs a slice of beef between his lips, he’s surprisingly un-elegant despite the way he looks. However, the way he eats makes you forget where you are. It’s a big bite, that’s for sure. “Today was the only empty reservation they had. So it was either today or…five months later. I did not want to take the chance.” he swallows. “But it seems they didn’t actually have the reservation.”

“Yeah, I guess things get pretty intense on Valentine's.”  

He shrugs, another slice disappearing between his lips, “It is okay. It all worked out in the end.” 

“You don’t mind sharing a table with a stranger?” you smile, your tone light. “I bet you imagined this night differently.” 

“Very,” he grins then shakes his head. “But that does not mean this is necessarily bad. I can imagine worse people to eat with, compared to that this is nice actually.” when you stare at him, slightly mesmerized, he adds. “Can I ask what brought you here?” 

“Dumbassery,” a bitter chuckle drops from your lips, he looks up at you between dark lashes. “Sorry, basically I was supposed to be here with my boyfriend but well…he sent me a text that he wants to see other people about—” you check your watch. “A half hour ago.” 

“Ah, I am sorry to hear that,” he cleans the remainder of his plate and so do you. “However, you do not seem that bothered by it.” 

“I guess I wasn’t that into it, to begin with,” you mutter, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest. He must’ve sensed it because before you can say anything, Pero starts to apologize. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. For what it’s worth I’m happy that I ended up at your table,” 

“I guess this is what they call a silver lining,” the waiter scoops up your plates, and another one fills your glasses with Merlot to pair with the red meat entrées. “Anyway enough about me, what do you do? Who is Pero Tovar?” 

“Depends on who you ask, hermosa,” he quips. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles in your chest, his smile widens upon hearing the sound. “I am a chef.” 

“A chef? I guess that explains why you like food so much.” 

He nods, “It had been a childhood dream of mine. We didn’t have much…food, and mi mamá could make wonders out of very little. That inspired me heavily. And well, here I am now.” 

You’re speechless and he takes notice of it but says nothing. Swallowing, you muster a response. 

“That’s amazing, I’m sure she’s proud of you.” 

“She is,” he grins. “What about you? What do you do?” 

You’re about to answer when the waiter suddenly comes to place the entrees in front of you both; a perfectly cooked steak, set on a bed of crisp, green roasted herb butter, with a spoonful of dark red wine reduction drizzled over it. A basket of fresh bread and butter is also placed on the table. The butter is on top of small plates, made into a shape of a pyramid but honestly… they look like butter nipples and you fight the urge to giggle. 

“What is it?” he chuckles, brows pinched together. “Did I spill some wine on my shirt?” 

He makes a show of looking down and you laugh. You shake your head. “You’re good don’t worry. I was just…well the butter,” 

“Ah yes, the butter nipples—” 

You’re mid swallowing your wine when he says it, you nearly choke, your lungs burning from attempting to swallow and cough. He shoots you a worried look, cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink. 

“Sorry…was that not…what you were thinking?”

“No no, it was,” you suck in a breath and shakily palace the wine glass back. “That was exactly what I was thinking actually, that’s why I was surprised.” 

“I mean, it is quite obvious what it looks like, no?” he cuts into his steak. “I honestly would’ve taken the rest of your words with a grain of salt if you said it did not look like it.” 

“Oh, so it was a test?” you tease, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Not really, but if it was, you passed with flying colors.” 

“I’ve always been a grade-A student.” 

After the incident of you nearly choking to death over butter nipples, the two of you eased into the conversation. Pero is ridiculously easy to talk to. Despite what you had initially thought of him, he isn’t intimidating at all. He orders the two of you a second bottle, talking about his experiences as a chef. He prides himself in still enjoying the art of cooking, whereas, apparently, most chefs have lost that spark—which in return mirrored within the dishes they prepared. 

There is a lot of under-the-table touching, your knee constantly brushes against his. Honestly, you’re not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not, you want to believe he’s the one initiating the secret touches. 

“Did you meet Gordon Ramsay?” you dumbly ask, the wine hitting your tongue. “I used to watch his shows religiously.” 

“I have…” he swirls the wine in his mouth, both of your plates are licked clean. “We got along…for the most part.” 

“There’s a story there, tell me.” you coo, pressing both your elbows against the table. Suddenly he feels physically closer, but you know he isn’t, at least you think he isn’t. 

“Maybe another time.” 

“There’s going to be another time?” 

Your question hangs in the air. You feel nervous, you had hoped to sound flirty, but honestly, you have no idea what you’re doing. Your eyes follow as his hand comes near, it hovers above yours for a brief moment. He lets out a sigh, and allows his hand to fall, it looks much bigger than yours, you hold your breath. 

“I would like for there to be another time,” he mutters, averting his gaze but still keeping his hand in place. “If you want to.” 

“I would very much so, yes.” 

Your cheeks ache from smiling. Looking down, you notice that the waiter had already placed an elegant-looking dessert in front of you both. A visually stunning dessert, with a bright red cheesecake layer atop a crumbly cookie crust, topped with a colorful mixture of fresh berries in a glossy compote. Pero takes a forkful into his mouth, groaning at the taste. 

A violent heat instantly flares between your legs. Mouth and lips feeling dry, you stick your tongue out to wet them. His eyes follow your tongue, his cheek moving animatedly as he chews. 

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, definitely,” you look down and pick up your fork, you push a berry off of the cake. “You look good when you eat.” 

“Really?” 

You look up again, noticing that he genuinely looks surprised. You slowly nod, holding his gaze. He brings the fork to his lips, making a show of opening his mouth and closing his lips around the desert. He chews steadily and nods. 

He says nothing else, the conversation topic shifts. All you can think about how warm it is. 

Despite your protests, Pero pays the bill, saying that you’ll be paying next time. 

It all happens in a blur. The door closes shut, the sound of it nothing but an echo to your ears. He presses you up against the wall, lips on your neck, licking the salt from your skin with the flat of his tongue. With a whimper, you press your hips into him, feeling the hardness underneath. 

You had simply invited him upstairs for a cup of coffee. Who knew elevators could be such an aphrodisiac? 

“Is this okay?” he asks between soft bites, the tremble of his voice seeping into your skin. “Is this what you want?” 

“Yes to both of those—” 

He lifts his head away from your neck, strong arms caging you in. His breath ghosts over your skin and you breathe in, being under his gaze feels like melting under the sun. 

“Kiss me.” 

And he does. Over and over again. He can’t get enough of you and he conveys that with his lips. His tongue slips into your mouth, tasting the bitterness of wine and the sweetness of berries. He sucks the air from your lungs, teeth clattering and his nose pressing into your skin. Heat skims over your very being, settling between your legs. His palms knead the flesh of your hips, pulling you closer, guiding the sloppy roll of your hips. 

When he parts, you can see his lips glistening under the dim light, they’re completely kiss swollen and you fight the urge to suck his bottom lip between your teeth. 

He swallows and your eyes follow the bob of his adam’s apple, “Where is your bedroom, bebita?” 

“This way.” 

You feel the tremble in his chest, he squeezes your hips one more time before he allows you to guide him further into the apartment. Pero doesn’t even glance at the bedroom, he kisses you until you’re falling back first into the soft sheets. His hands cradle your thighs, thumb drawing smooth circles over your pantyhose. Your breath hitches, your mind disarray as his face comes into view. 

“May I?” he asks, sounding as if his mouth is flooded with saliva. 

You chuckle, brushing a lock of soft hair that covers his right eye, “You may.” 

A loud rip follows your answer. The cold air rushes a shudder up your spine, your hips raising without a second thought to seek his heat. The thin fabric falls to the floor in tatters. You yelp when he tugs you further to the edge of the bed, he kneels between your legs, gently raising your hips to reach where his mouth is. 

“You’re still hungry?” you tease. 

“I’m fucking starving.” 

He presses his nose against the seam of your panties, inhaling your scent before mouthing along the soft folds, he teases you with the tip of his tongue, applying pressure when he finds your clit. You gasp, fingers curling into the sheets. You’re sizzling, the heat of his lips adding to the fire. He slowly peels the fabric away, sticky with slick, and he drops it to the floor below your feet. 

Thumb pressing into your clit, he gently pulls to get a better look. You shine for him, wordlessly begging him to continue. 

“Tan hermosa,” he rasps, his breath chilling as it ghosts over your sex. “Have you been thinking about this during dinner?” 

When you don’t answer, he smiles, drawing quick circles around your aching clit. “Filthy girl,” he groans closing his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

You whimper his name, pushing your trembling fingers into his hair, your drag your nails down the back of his neck. He gradually moves down, tongue nestled between the lips of your cunt while the curve of his nose bumps into your clit, he kisses you tenderly—intimately. It never felt this good before, not that anyone before took the time to learn what made you feel good. Pero moves according to the sound of your voice, the trembling of your thighs, and the drag of your nails. Every little thing he picks up and uses to his advantage. 

It doesn’t take you long after that. You come with a sharp cry, tugging him by the air and pulling his sinful mouth closer. You’re shaking like a leaf, thighs pressed against both sides of his face. Slurps and groans echo from the back of his throat, tongue moving greedily, making sure not a single drop escapes him. 

“So good,” he moans, looking up to you and licking his lips. “I think I am ready for the main course now, cariño.” 

“Oh god,” you sigh, the sheets feeling extra sensitive against your skin as he pushes you up the bed, taking his place between your wet thighs. He strips quickly, you notice. “That was amazing, Pero. God— I’m lost for words,” 

“I’m flattered but also a bit sad that it is such a surprise to you to feel so good,” he answers, a sly smile touching his wet lips. Leaning in, he drags his nose up the column of your neck, inhaling you. “Do you want to feel good on my cock, princesa. Tell me.” 

“I do,” you murmur. “Please,” 

“You sound pretty when you beg.” 

“Please,” you repeat again, raising your hips. “I need to feel you.” 

His cock lays heavy between your legs, he licks the salt off your skin as he rolls his hips, coating himself with slick. Heat pools in the pits of your stomach. You feel the touch of his lips over the swell of your breast, tongue moving around your nipple ravenously before he pushes himself inside. The stretch makes your entire body go stiff. 

“Relax,” he whispers into your skin. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“N-No,” you breathe out as his hands skim the frame of your body, it’s a soothing touch, one that makes you arch and take more of him. “‘Feels good,” 

Pero moves slow, burying himself inch by inch until he sinks into your heat completely. During this, he continues to touch and kiss you. Thick fingers rolling the hardened peaks as his tongue slips into your mouth, swallowing your moans and begs. 

His cock feels heavy and warm inside, you flutter around him, slightly grinding your hips as a silent beg for him to move. He does. Pero drags his cock out, only the head stretching you, and buries himself back in with one hard thrust. Your eyes go wide, your jaw goes slack. It’s like electricity shooting up your spine, every nerve singing with pleasure and very much so alive. 

“More,” you manage to choke out. “More, Pero—Please,” 

Pero dips into the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin, he thrusts into you with the same enthusiasm, if not more. His strokes are hard, yet slow. He moans openly into your skin, lips caressing the column as a need, a necessity. Arousal and slick pours between your legs, the way he reacts is very similar to a man taking breath after being denied of oxygen. You squeeze around him, your second orgasm already starting to simmer deep in your gut. 

He must’ve felt it because he pounds into you with fervor, one hand skims down your body and grips your thigh, forcing you to spread yourself even wider for him. The slick sounds accompany your moans, every movement deeper than the one before. You see a flash of light under your eyelids, black dots hovering in your line of vision as your entire body convulses and shudders, pleasure scorching your skin like the desert sun. 

Your eyes flutter open in the midst of a lustful haze, you see Pero pulling way from you, the sudden emptiness makes you feel cold. He wraps his fingers around his weeping length, holding your gaze and groaning as he strokes himself until he’s coming in thick ropes, staining your stomach. You moan at the warmth splashing over your skin, your body a trembling mess. 

Pero leans over you, softening cock in hand, he crashes his lips into yours, licking the inside of your mouth eagerly before pulling away. 

“Let me clean you up,” he says, voice barely above a raspy whisper. “Bathroom?” 

“Down the hall first door to your left.” 

You can’t help but watch as he makes his way out of the bedroom, gorgeous ass in its full naked glory. Sighing, you fall back into your pillows. 

Little did you know, being dumped at the last second would turn out to be the most fortuitous twist of fate.

#pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x y/n #pero tovar fanfic #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #the great wall fanfic #the great wall fic

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

SET FIFTEEN - ROUND ONE - MATCH THREE

Excerpt from illustrated edition of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (1972 - Errol Le Cain) / "La Mort de Marat (The Death of Marat)" (1793 - Jacques-Louis David)

EXCERPT FROM ILLUSTRATED EDITION OF THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER: This image is representative of all of part 4 of the poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, and is a part of a larger illustrated edition. However, I absolutely adore this piece on its own. Yes, it has the elements from the poem, but it adds so much mysticism to that section. I love the colors, the darkness and the blue with the splashes of color, and the albatross standing out, almost separate from the piece, in its blocky triangle with the red blood-like strings moving to the woman. I love how the ring of circles look like the phases of the moon, and gives me a sense of time passing, even with how immediate (i guess?) the albatross and the woman's interaction feels. Also, the ship becomes a ship of the dead, with the rotted sails and the hull of the dead crew. And then back at the center of it all is the Albatross. It also is just very 70s to me, and feels a little nostalgic, like an old fantasy novel cover or something. Its great on its own, and as an illustration of a poem, it picks up on the literal and the metaphors and themes of the epic. It just delights me. I would definitely recommend the poem, its a great epic about a stranded sailor and his doomed ship.

Something I just realized, writing this, is that there is no narrator visible, which I love. The poem is in first person, and I think that translates to this image. Obviously the reader is not the mariner, but there is a closeness that occurs with that tense. Same with this, the viewer is not on the ship, but outside of it, but we are viewing the scene from almost "over" the albatross, making that our focal point, and the albatross is what draws us into the rest of the scene. I love it.

(Sorry for the weird crop, I was trying to even out the curl from the page.)

Also, here are a few stanzas from part IV, (easily placed to be deleteable lol), for fun.

Alone, alone, all, all alone, / Alone on a wide wide sea! / And never a saint took pity on / My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful! / And they all dead did lie: / And a thousand thousand slimy things / Lived on; and so did I.

I looked upon the rotting sea, / And drew my eyes away; / I looked upon the rotting deck, / And there the dead men lay. ...

Beyond the shadow of the ship, / I watched the water-snakes: / They moved in tracks of shining white, / And when they reared, the elfish light / Fell off in hoary flakes.

And I blessed them unaware. / The self-same moment I could pray; / And from my neck so free / The Albatross fell off, and sank / Like lead into the sea. (@travelingsmithy)

LA MORT DE MARAT (THE DEATH OF MARAT): The first time I saw it was in a history textbook in junior high and when the teacher wasn't looking I tore the page out and used it as a bookmark in my diary for years. It looks the way pipe organ music feels. I want to fold it up and put it in my chest. (@ambientcrows)

(This is an illustration from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner book by Samuel Taylor Coleridge published in 1972 by The Arcadia Press, London. The illustration was done by Errol Le Cain. Only 100 copies of the book were printed.

"La Mort de Marat (The Death of Marat)" is an oil on canvas painting by Jacques-Louis David. It measures 162 cm × 128 cm (64 in × 50 in) and is held by the Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium. A replica, done by the artist's studio, is also on display at the Louvre.)

#art that fucks you up tournament #polls #atfyu polls #id in alt text #cw blood #quite possibly the only set of images that are not cropped whatsoever

[malice-ov-mercy]

Cleaning Day

Pairing: Adam De Micco x fem!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+, D/S, smut, unprotected (p in v) sex, degradation, light bondage (wrists restrained with belt), oral (male receiving), deep throating, facefucking

A/N: I’m sure Adam is a nice, decent fellow, but something that abt that man screams Mean Dom to me. Last line of dialogue is lyric from Swallow by Renee Phoenix.

Word Count: 580

Tag list: @circle-with-me @xxrainstorm @foliosriot @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @reader13000 @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @concretenoah @witchyweeb34 @an-insane-day @lyschko666 @calisto-thoughts

If you would like to be added, please let me know for who! If you tell me everyone/everything, just know that includes anything I may write for Bad Omens AND/OR Lorna Shore!

————————————

Adam De Micco Masterlist

————————————

The side of your face pressed roughly into the couch, hands tightly restrained behind your back with a belt, and Adam having his way with you. It’s not how you imagined cleaning day would be, but when Adam surprised you with a luxurious and exquisite red lingerie set, you should have known you’d be bent over hours later. That same set was now strewn about in the living room, completely ruined and torn to shreds. Adam complained all the time about your lack of lingerie, but he quite literally ripped every piece you’d ever had off of you.

Your jaw hung open, a small stream of drool flowed past your lips, creating a puddle on the couch cushion. You’d make a mental note to clean it later, but Adam was scrambling your brains and insides. He was pounding into your cunt so hard and deep, it felt like he was jumbling your guts around.

Adam had one hand around your wrists while the other reached for your clit. Your eyes rolled back as he started rubbing fast, furious circles. A low and strained groan emanated from your chest. The tingling ache in your shoulders spread down your spine and to your toes. You were so close to climax but couldn’t find the words to let Adam know.

“Oh you’re quivering. Come on then, baby. Cum for me.” He demanded, voice full of rasp and gravel.

Permission granted, you came. Adam moaned loudly, halting his thrusts. He basked in the feeling of your cunt pulsing and clenching around his thick cock. His sudden stillness kept you from fully reaching your peak, only allowing you a subtle taste and tease. You whined and writhed under him. Your pussy clenched again as he landed a harsh, loud smack on your ass.

“Stay fucking still,” Adam spat, “And let me feel you.”

The sensation of him filling you and not moving was maddening. You tried to stay still, but every part of your body and skin burned with desire and need. You wiggled again.

“You don’t listen well, do you?”

Adam swiftly pulled out of you and yanked the belt, tugging your body up. You hissed, pain shooting through your shoulders. He roughly shoved you in your knees. The hardwood flooring offered no cushion or softness.

“Open your mouth, bitch.”

Not wanting to displease him anymore, you obeyed, opening as wide as you could. Adam wrapped your hair around his fist, and forced himself entirely between your lips. You choked and gagged on him. His head dropped back with a groan. Your mouth was nothing to him but another warm, wet hole for him to shove his girthy cock in. He was close, you knew that already.

His thrusts were powerful and brutal, the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat. The frequent grunts and shallow breaths escaping him sent another wave of arousal to your center. He was so rarely vocal. Every sound he made delighted you. You wanted to help him along, but stayed put, enjoying him losing himself.

Adam looked down at your tear soaked face, hearts in your eyes. Drool started spilling out of your mouth, strands of it dripping onto your breasts. He harshly plowed down your throat a few more times then erupted, holding you in place. You choked on his cum and cock, mouth filled to the absolute brim.

“That’s my pretty bitch,” Adam praised. “Swallow it down like a good girl ought to.”

#adam de micco x reader #adam de micco fanfiction #adam de micco fanfic #adam de micco fic #lorna shore fanfiction #lorna shore fanfic #lorna shore fic

[blorbologist]

Caaaan I be cheeky and go Trick Trick Treat (to the beat of Duck Duck Goose) and As Many De Rolos As You Feel Like Including?

Not sure if I quite pulled that off, but that'll be your call to make ;3

--

“Ow! Fuck! What the hell - stop fucking - ow - Ollie!!”

“Language,” Vesper chides, poking at Whitney’s ankles with her cane without breaking her stride. “And stop fucking pulling her hair, Oliver.”

“You swore too! I’m gonna tell mum!” Littlest Cassandra - a knight this year - giggles, tidying Whitney’s fairy pigtails.

Oliver sulks, jack-o-lantern basket swinging as he stomps a few paces ahead. There’s chatter as the three slightly more well behaved kids chatter, discussing classmates’ costumes and candy hauls and optimal routes, before Oliver eventually can’t resist and slows to join them.

Julius is perfectly content to let his sister handle the siblings. He and Vesper are definitely too old for trick-or-treating, but once the littles are tuckered out, they can drop them on the doorstep and take off to the nearest Halloween rager. Not like he hasn’t been pregaming it - his jack-o-lantern has a smile of brown glass and slooshes like it’s about to vomit. 

Oh, he could be there now - already - swimming in a sea of sexy nurses and sexy lady CEOs and sexy sexy sexy, while Vesper and her friends binged old Halloween classics. If not for his wonderful middle brother.

Percival ‘too old for Halloween’ de Rolo got to skip out on this delight of being an older sibling by citing a project due tomorrow in his morning class. For the record, the nerd never leaves anything to the last minute. It was deliberate, Julius would swear on it.

Vesper thwacks his ankle. Julius glances up - it didn’t hurt thanks to the fireman boots - to see her frowning. 

“Where are we?”

A quick glance at the streetsigns answers him - though understandable Vesper can’t read them with her black shades. It’s getting awfully dark, and more lamps are unlit than not for the Halloween atmosphere. “Academy Lane? The Soltryce is at the one end. Dad has a lot of friends that live here.”

It’s definitely the sort of neighborhood Julius is familiar with - gated snaking driveways, walls mimicking castle architecture, the self-importance of the nouveau-riche. 

Nothing can beat an actual fucking castle, though.

Vesper frowns, adjusts her tie. “Mhm. I don’t see many pumpkins out. We should turn back.”

“One more and we’ll get to the car,” Julius promises. Cass is flagging anyways, not helped by all that aluminum platemail. She’ll be begging for bedtime soon. 

But there is a pumpkin on this porch - two, actually, a horribly ugly pair - so Julius ducks past the toothy open gate and keeps an eye on the hooligans. At least they’re having fun.

Never would he admit it, but Vesper has a bit of a point. It’s creepy - the tamed and trimmed trees look like manicured hands, backlit by faint light from the road and sick pale gold from the mansion. Despite how well-kept the place is, it’s crawling with vines. Trying to pick a late-season flower from one is a mistake - Vesper turns when he yelps.

“Just a thorn,” says Julius. When she’s not looking he presses his thumb to his lips, to swipe off the blood.

He and Vesper pause two-thirds the way to the house just as Cass reaches the front steps, Ludwig hushing the twins so she can catch up and be ready to yell with them. Whitney insists on ringing the bell - echoed down the drive, the sound makes Julius shiver. It’s getting cold.

The door swings open, delighted to see them, and the children just as delighted.

“Trick or treat!” hollers the host of little monsters. Everything looks less scary by the light: Cass is a little knight, and the imposing owners of the home are familiar faces with candy at hand.

“Oh, Lady Briarwood!” Julius calls, relieved. “What a surprise!” 

Her smile glows just as the jack-o-lantern’s does. “What a pleasant surprise indeed.”

🎃Trick or Treat! Send me an ask and you'll get a trick (angst) or treat (fluff) ficlet in return! 🎃

#critical role #tlovm #cr fanfic #de rolo family #cassandra de rolo #julius de rolo #vesper de rolo #we're 2/2 on briarwoods being creepy antagonists to the de rolo kids so far lmao

[deniigi]

Cody-Centric Fic Recs

Name of the Game - esama

There's a new Dark Sider on the battlefield, one who has it out for Cody's General.

-----

Codywan; pre-slash, sith!Obi-Wan

Of Warnings (Ignored) - Trixree

“Listen to me, Kote. Are you listening? Because it is very fucking important that you listen to me right now,” 17 says. He would seize Kote by the chin and make him pay attention, if 17 was looking to get bit on top of all the other pain his body is gifting him with.

----

Codywan; Cody is a little shit; Alpha is longsuffering

Bonding Rituals - blackkat

Cody smirks, tilting his head. “Sounds like Fox has a date,” he says, and Rex is suddenly, vividly reminded of the fact that Cody and Fox are batchmates. Something must have gone wrong with the cloning process there, because that much asshole in one batch should be physically improbable. For a moment, he almost feels sorry for Fox.

Then he remembers that Fox yelled at Fives last time they ran into each other during an escort mission on the front, and decides that he actually doesn’t.

-----

Fox/Obi-Wan, Rex & Cody, Pranks and Practical jokes

sunshine and the shade of poetry - Petrichordiam

 "Sorry sir, but I don't think we've met," Cody said, turning up the friendly customer service representative levels by two points.

 To his delight, there wasn't really any visible change in his general's expression. "Have I neglected to leave an impression on you over the last several years?"

 "I'm not sure you want an honest answer to that question, sir."

===== The war comes to an abrupt end, and everyone around him begins the long road to recovery and discovery. Cody, on the other hand, just needs to find a new job.

Unfortunately, he has no idea what to do next.

-----

Codywan; Rex & Cody, Coruscant Art Scene, Romance-writer Cody

*And because I am shameless, some of my own fics:

girlboss, gatekeep - deniigiq

Captain Gregor immediately leans his chin on his palm and smiles at Fives. Fives smiles back. He does not perceive this action to be the threat that it truly is.

“That man’s going to kill him,” Jesse says with his neck craned as far as it will go.

“Yep,” Kix agrees solemnly.

“You never know,” Echo says. “He’s squeezed better outcomes out of worse odds.”

(Fives decides that he's going to join the illustrious, mysterious, and oh-so exclusive Commanders Batch, and he's going to start by becoming besties with Commander Cody. Rex cannot stop this trainwreck but he can certainly watch it happen in slow motion - and occasionally he can offer a word or two of advice.)

-----

background Codywan; Fives & Cody; Rex & Cody, Cody & Command Batch; hijinks and shenanigans

they're neutral - deniigiq

Retired Commander Cody moves into a new neighborhood and becomes furious at the way a nearby roundabout is treated as a dumpsite. He installs a giant Jedi Crest fountain dead in the center of it and accidentally creates a safe place for the diasporic Jedi community to worship.

-----

light codywan; Cody & Wolffe, Cody & Rex, Home Improvement; Community Development

the time when stars align - qigiined

Lord Vader stands before Cody with a ruined body and asks him between puffing, hissing breaths, how he has found the latest therapy.

Cody explodes.

Never before did he realize how hopeful he was that he would soon die. Never before has he felt so helpless. The only natural process he could depend on has been snatched from his fingers. He is again a young man. His accelerated aging factor has been ‘cured.’

-----

Codywan; Force-Ghost Obi-Wan; De-aging; Treason

#codywan #commander cody #CC-2224 #cody-centric #please folks if you write a cody-centric fic or a fic from his pov tag it 'cody centric' so that we can build up the tag #also my characterization of cody is diff from many and the fics I've recced also have alternate cody characterizations #so dont be surprised if you open one and hes spicy

[drops-of-moonlights]

Va-mos! Poder Cosmix Reluciente energía Es el poder (el poder) de Cosmix, sí! Y se alzará Contra la oscuridad Brillara yá Es la Luz Cosmix, sí!

AS OF THIS WRITING IT’S BEEN 1007 DAYS SINCE DISCOVERY KIDS WAS SUPPOSED TO AIR THE LATIN SPANISH DUB OF SEASON 8 AND BELIEVE ME I AM STILL AS FUCKING PISSED AS I WAS ON THE FIRST 500 DAYS. WHERE IS S8 DISCOVERY KIDS WE KNOW IT’S FULLY DUBBED, THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO MAKE LOST MEDIA.

My third world problems aside, Cosmix’s re-redesign! I sadly axed the relation to celestial objects with this version, but I’m more content with making them all more generally space-themed. Everyone has a different star they’re associated with with different amount of points! More design details below because this is a lore post and a half tbh:

The wings this time are based on, of all things, the canon Winx Travelix wings, which appeared on the show in S6, as part of the Zenith shepard check outfits. They have the same vibe as the Cosmix wings except actually individualized, and so they felt perfect for this batch even if I mixed up Flora’s and Aisha’s but details. Stella obviously has the eye aura since it’s tailor made for her everything, but Diaspro has a partial eye aura since her way of forming gemstones involves usage of light magic.

For this new version, everyone is associated with a color of the rainbow, per my own earning of Cosmix (Dorana was delighted they were 7 so she could just go straight to the point lmao), based on the river each of the girls drew from. They also all have the astronomical symbols for their realms on their chest! Earth would go insane trying to think of why the fuck realms within the same planet have different astronomical signs, but it’s one of those things that made sense to the Naerys system to further differentiate their sections of the world from each other.

Scintil has a stylized laurel wreath holding a spark, as it was implemented back when they thought the Dragon Aura was “the Dragon’s Flame”, a divine gift of extra powers and not a benign magical condition. (Bloom was sure she was gonna have Earth’s symbol as she still considers it her primary home, and is a bit conflicted on what it might mean for her to bear Scintil’s mark.)

Linphea and Dolona used to share a symbol as Primaveria, a stylized Rose of the Willow with six petals, but after the civil war and the split they each have a 3-petal flower.

Quarzis’s is pretty straightforward, the Jewel of Dawn (a national treasure and ancient magic artifact) being hold aloft by the hands of the first Queen.

Zenith’s mark, while at first glance looks like circuitry, is actually meant to evoke the Aurora Prismatia, a weather phenomena incredibly important to their culture.

Like with Linphea and Dolona’s, Andros’s mark was originally shared with Mareia (and Salett) as the ancient kingdom of Okeane, the shore between the land and the sea. Nowadays Andros’s symbol is the land and the shore, while Mareia’s the shore and the sea.

Melodeus’s is the Giant Diapason, a gigantic sculpture of antiquity that much like Zenith’s Aurora Prismatia is a big part of Melodean culture.

Finally, Solaria’s the most straightforward - the moons and the sun, perfectly aligned.

#Drops's Art #Winx Club #Winx Redux AU #Cosmix #Winx AU Detailing #because I left a lot of shit in the readmore lol

[themonotonysyndrome]

oh great Lady mono tone,

i ask for castin headcannons (sorry for any mistakes english isnt my first language)

Since Des confirmed that the baroness is gonna be prego in the next part, how do you think castin would react to the baroness on her monthly cycle (sudden increase on consuming all of her chocolates, her mood swings being snappy or grouchy at one time but then being all calm and slightly more clingy towards him, having to pull herself together in public with painful smile pretend everything is fine while castins beside her panicking at the iron grip she has on his arm). sorry if this seems very OC like. You can Change it how ever you like to fit Celica ❤️❤️❤️❤️

SKFMKDLSMF Good afternoon, sweet Anon! Aww, you don't have to flatter me, ok? I love getting Asks about Celica!

Aite. One set of Castin headcanons with a mercurial Baroness/Celica on her bloody month coming up!

Period headcanons with Castin and Celica:

See, all throughout her life, it's metaphorically (only sometimes, though) beaten into Celica that she must remain composed in public at all times. Or not? Well, watch as the tables are gonna flip over her head, and now she's at the mercy of others.

So that means absolutely no acting out even when you're on your period.

It's cool. It's fine. It's whatever. Like hell would an Imperial Noblewoman ever slip up because of a period? Insane cramps? Fucking walk it off, that's what Celica has been doing all her life. Hell, even her governess would slap her hands with a ruler if she so much as wince! So she got it locked down, baby!

.....And then Castin Hammer happened. And look at that! Slowly but surely, Celica is becoming softer around another human being who isn't one of her guardians. Love wins again!

Sure, marriage life is rocky, and don't get me started on their first meeting, but hey, they're in that spot now where she can tease him in public! But what about her bloodied time of the month?

Well, Castin IMMEDIATELY notices that something is off when the Head Butler suddenly shoves a bunch of candies and sweets into the pockets of his pants without even a single word. And these candies aren't poison! Castin is a smart cookie; he knows this has something to do with his darling wife. His warrior senses are sharpened today!

Oh boy, did it pay off: Celica was snappy when he found her in the office. Her usual decorum is nowhere to be seen as she chucks every report that upsets her and hardly spares Castin a glance until -

"Babe? You, uh, you good?" Castin knew that that was the wrong thing to say when Celica slowly lifted her head to stare at him. OH SHIT -

"Why Castin, whatever could you mean? Did you mean to say that I don't look 'good' in terms of looks, hmm? Do I look particularly like a goblin to you today?"

"Goblin!? N-NO! Nononononono! Celica, honey, light of my life. Mother of my future child - "

"Oh? Am I just a convenient, walking womb to you, Hammer?"

She's bringing out his surname. This is officially an emergency. Luckily for Castin, he remembers the weapons in his pocket and immediately dumps them on his wife's table and prays to the Divine Couple for the best.

Celica freezes. She stares at the pile of candies. And then, like a spooked horse, she slowly unwraps one and starts chewing the treat. Castin could've collapsed onto his knees in relief at that moment dsnfjkndkfndkjngf

"First day of your period, babe?"

"...Yes."

"Can I help you with anything? Anything other than candies?"

Here, Castin is delighted to see his wife squirming in his seat in embarrassment for some reason. He's giddy when she, uncharacteristically in shyness, requested, "Can you... please accompany me today? I could use some of your strength."

"Hell yeah, Celica! Here, maybe it'll help if you do those reports on my lap?" Castin suggests, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. He fully expects his wife to roll her eyes but much to his surprise, Celica grabs her pen and paper and makes herself comfortable on Castin.

So that's how the rest of their day went by, Celica being adorably clingy in her own way; asking him to sit closer to her during meal times, letting him play with her hair and at point, even squeezing his bicep when Captain Dolion rudely stares at her. Castin took it all with grace, and very much like a besotted husband.

When it comes to her cramps, Castin is ready with a cool cloth to wipe her face whenever she's left breathless. He grimances when Celica insist that she clear most of her work for the day before retiring to the Leisure Room.

After dinner, Castin directs her there so the two can be cosy together. Watching a rom-com and there's a hot waterpack for her stomach while Celica is wearing as little clothing as possible.

All in all, since Castin has been with many women and had a good and firm mother raising him, he won't leave a woman to deal with her period pain alone!

#monotony's rambling #desmond asmr #headcanons #castin hammer #baroness (oc)

[glass--beach]

Live reacting to plastic death!

Just heard coelacanth for the first time, holy shit those time signatures?

Just heard motions for the first time, what the fuck the variation! (Teared up)

Just heard slip under the door for the first time, omg it's this one! Oh it's different! Holy shit.

Just heard guitar song for the first time, what is happening! It's so cool!

Oh my god! It's rare animal! Lovely transition for a lovely song :)

THINKING ABOUT YOU!!!

Just heard cul-de-sac for the first time, I LOVE STEREO USAGE I LOVE THIS ALBUM OH MY

I love hearing the snippets we've already heard on the website its so fun

Just heard whalefall for the first time, I've been hypnotised into sleep in the depths and I'm enjoying it

I'm free here

I fucking love these clashes!!!!!!

Just heard puppy for the first time, I'm crawling back and forth!! I WANT TO SCREAM BUT THAT WOULD ANNOY PEOPLE!!!!!

Just listened to the killer for the first time, this seems chill for a song called the killer. I'm sure it won't change. I can't believe I got caught in the teeth of a hunters trap. THE FIDDLE?? IS THAT A FIDDLE??? NO IDEA????

Hey!! It's the CIA!! Wiretap my head!!! You have succeeded in that!!!! IN YOUR TEETH; ON YOUR MIND; YOUR SYMPATHY'S A WASTE OF TIME; LITTLE BLINKING LIGHT YOU LEFT BEHIND!! I CAN'T HELP IT I KEEP COMING BACK TO YOU!!!

Just listened to 200 for the first time, OH THOSE CHORDS AND VOICE TOGETHER ARE SO GOOD. ... What the fuck is happening

My mouth is fucking doing the shocked emoji holy shit. What the fuck OH IT'S THIS SNIPPET. HOLY FUCKING SHIT HOW DOES IT KEEP GETTING BETTER I'M WHAT. what. I think I'm short circuiting

Just listened to commatose for the first time, thank you for this album so much guys. This feels like the time to say that literally every song so far has fucking destroyed me this is such a good album and fuck. Oh! It's speeding up! I am jamming!! So hard!! Nothing left! Nothing left! Oh. OH. OHHH! the FUCKING CHANGE ONCE AGAIN IM BEING PUMMELED TO DEATH!!!1

NOTHING LEFT! NOTHING LEFT!! I'm bleeding out to death on the floor with a smile on my face. How is there like half of this left. How can it get any better. oh. a sense of calm washes over me as I wake up. I'm a bloodied mess but somehow still alive. I stare up in the sky dreading the future but living in the now. I recall everything that i must do and what's left for me. I close my eyes, right now i want to lie down and rest with my cuts and bruises. And maybe get pummeled again. The sun rises. I open my eyes. The stars are still there? I watch the sun and stars intermingled, something I didn't think possible until now. I promptly collapse on the ground due to blood loss but in a good way. The noises die down around me as I am once again trapped in my own mind.

Just listened to abyss angel for the first time. I'm burning, with the blood in the trees. I think I'm about to cry. There's definitely tears here. It feels like the end of a journey, every single step a delight. I sit. A new day is ahead. The sun has indeed risen again. For real this time. I lean back and smile, tears welling up, and feel prepared for the future ahead of me. Thank you.

10/10, every song.

*beep* this recording has ended. Thank you for listening.

dont even know what to say to this this is like a whole ass review and incredibly positive and kind so thank you so much! i’m glad you’re enjoying it!

[respectthepetty]

Get To Know Your BL Mutuals

tagged by @kwonzoshi

Simple, answer the questions. @ some people. Include the tag 'g2ky BL mutuals 2022' on your post so we can find everyone's answers!

What has been the BL that took you by surprise this year?

Old Fashion Cupcake. It came out of nowhere! One random day Viki uploaded the first episode, and was like “You wanna watch an oddly named show from Japan?” and my my my (sing it like Troye Sivan) it hit every sweet spot. The scene that was done all in one sequence?! I’m still there. I’m living in that scene. I only come out because I have to pay bills. I’m going to rewatch it for the 80th time now.

What has been the BL that you felt a bit disappointed with this year?

It would have been Oh! My Sunshine Night, but it seemed to embrace its messiness (adding more episodes on the day of the finale!) in a way that I love (amnesia?! a murder plot?! a bubble bath?!!!!) so…

Between Us. It’s the same issue I had with Until We Meet Again. I don’t know how Win and Team’s plot is going to carry over for twelve episodes. We keep getting snippets of In and Korn (TW, please), and shots of Dean and Pharm, but we already know their story, so it’s like recycled plot with a new scent. It’s nice to see Dean not so robotic (“fuck off”) and Pharm not being infantilized, but on top of Alphabet Soup’s issues with Prince Charming, a drowning, Manow doing her (keep it up, we love it!), Tul and Wan’s Gameboys moment, baby Santa looking adorable as Wiew, the product placement of what is clearly NOT water, and the daddy issues (actual issues with their father and not Love in the Air daddy issues), I don’t know how this souffle is going to rise. However, it’s not even close to being finished, so I’m excited to watch how it bakes.

What has been your favorite BL this year?

Love Mechanics. I’m trash for VeeMark’s throat grabs. Trash! Vee being a topsy-turvy bisexual who couldn’t get his shit together is the bisexual representation I want. How many bisexuals do we know who have their shit together? Not a damn one. This show is basically a documentary. Then, Mark being the ultimate Sour Patch Kid who is willing to fist fight his father only made the dynamic between a gay and his huge red flag that much better.

Favorite BL couples (not just of 2022)?

MaxTul are my anything and everything. Korn and Knock. Tan and Bun. Sequels. Prequels. Unconfirmed projects – WHERE IS TRANSPLANT?! It always blows my mind that they are the same age, if not younger than another long-established pair, and came out the gate slutting up our screens. Not even making it a competition, it’s just wild to me that they did the devil’s tango day one, which we see more often now, and held a gun to each other’s head two years ago so DanYok, ToddBlack, KinnPorsche, and VegasPete could fly (I see you HIStory 3: Trapped. Taiwan, you're still my #1). They remind me of a Taiwanese couple with the domestic bliss, the high heat, and the batshit craziness, and I hope they live long and happy lives.

If you had to suggest a BL for someone what would it be?

To My Star 1 AND 2. Yeah, I wrote that. Not just To My Star, but To My Star 2 as well. The reasons speak for themselves, but just in case, never forget his lip was bleeding.

What's your non-BL favorite for this year?

Our Flag Means Death. I only support the girls, the gays, and the goths, so I was happily surprised that I was, in fact, supporting an entire ship of gays and their support goth with this show about pirates. If you think I’m crazy about colors and symbolism in BLs, imagine me watching this show when Ed started wearing color compared to his usual black and wore Stede’s RED robe after Stede gave him a RED cloth, that Ed placed in his pocket where his heart is because Stede gave him love only to throw it in the wind when…

Let me calm down. This show was glorious, and I’m delighted it got a second season. De. Light. Ed.

So who wants to go next? Tag as many or as few people as you want.

Have to tag the color and location mutuals: @gillianthecat @dribs-and-drabbles @waitmyturtles @sliceduplife @callipigio

#g2ky BL mutuals 2022 #old fashion cupcake #oh! my sunshine night #love mechanics #to my star #maxtul #ofmd

[hekateinhell]

For Dungeon Anon. ♥️ Inspired by some of the stuff that's been going in my ask box lately lmao.

Teenage delinquents Lestat and Armand are dating Louis together while navigating their own situationship, when Louis leaves them to their own devices for two weeks and certain permanent decisions are made.

Modern Human AU, Lestat/Armand/Louis (Louis is there in spirit and also to dom through FaceTime), 5k, rated E (oral sex, video stuff, Lestat's praise kink makes an appearance). X-posted to the ao3 because this is lot for me (RIP).

9:02 PM: I'm bored. Everyone else's gone, come hang out if you want?

9:12 PM: K.

K?

What did "K" even mean? "K, you're bored"? "K, I'm coming over"? "K, I got the text"?

Lestat rolled over, phone on his stomach, annoyed and out of sorts. Leave it to Armand to say everything and nothing at once.

Were his bedroom lights always this bright?

It was never easy when Louis wasn't around. Lestat knew who he was with Louis; he more or less knew what Louis was with Armand, and he knew what he and Armand were with Louis around. But like this, on their own for the first time when Mrs. de Pointe du Lac had inexplicably decided her kids could stand to miss two weeks of school to visit her family in New Orleans. Sick Grand-mère perhaps, Lestat couldn't remember.

–

"Try and spend some time together. Please. Get to know each other without me," Louis had whispered to them both as he pulled away from Lestat's embrace to kiss Armand outside his apartment building while his sister slammed the Taxi trunk shut. "Please? For me?" he squeezed one of their hands in each of his, smiling the demure smile that he knew made them both weak in the knees and tight in the pants.

"Of course, anything for you, my love," Armand, damn him, beat Lestat to the punch.

Disgustingly, cloyingly sweet.

"Yes, yes, of course," Lestat acquiesced, stealing a last kiss for himself as Armand rolled his eyes and not-so-subtly kicked at his ankle with a combat boot. The little gremlin.

Lestat was of the opinion he spent plenty of time with Armand – too much, in fact! Armand on the other side of Louis during class, at lunch, on the steps of their school! Even every Sunday in Louis's bedroom, a 'shared day' when time didn't lend itself to being split neatly down the middle.

An experiment, was what Lestat had told himself as a consolation.

A few months of this before it all came to a head. Armand had cornered him alone in the music room, veritably hissing about how Lestat was purposely trying to shove him aside and drive a wedge between him and Louis and that he, Armand, wasn't going to allow it. Almost comical it had been, what with Armand's head barely reaching Lestat's chest on a good day, and he'd still managed to back him into a wall like a rabid little raccoon.

At first, it had been funny, but then it was simply ventured on annoying. Lestat had had Louis first, after all! Yes, fine, they had technically been "on a break" when Louis met Armand. And yes, there was that little aggravating detail of Louis insisting that he would only give Lestat a second chance if he were still permitted to date Armand. Lestat had given his trademark jovial, "Oh, course, mon chèri!" So confident was he that Armand would be yesterday's news by the end of the week.

But that hadn't happened, and now he had 5'6, 125 lbs of cranky Eastern European theater kid on his ass.

He couldn't hit him, it wouldn't be a fair fight, and the brat would probably spin it to Louis to make himself look like the victim. Never one to back down, Lestat had done the second next-best thing. He'd grabbed Armand's jaw tight in his hand, stunning him into silence, and bent down to kiss him as violently and punishingly as he could - the way he never dared to nor desired to do to Louis. Not a single loving touch in it.

"There, finally shut you the fuck up," Lestat murmured as he caught his breath, delighting in how bruised and busted Armand's already plump lips looked now.

See him complain to Louis about this.

Armand blinked those dark eyes at him, processing the words he'd spoken but making no move to pull away. Something akin to hurt flickered across his face, at the same time he shifted from one leg to the other, and Lestat smiled when he realized exactly why.

The second kiss was a lot gentler, sweeter, wetter, almost as though Lestat were trying to repair the damage he'd done with the same instrument that had done it – his lips.

Armand's hand came up to tangle in Lestat's hair, grinding himself against his thigh as he moaned while his other came to rest over his crotch, squeezing Lestat's raging hard-on through his jeans. Kissing Armand was so different to kissing Louis... Each person always so unique. Armand's mouth was smaller yet more commanding, aggressive yet simultaneously yielding, the cool silver stud in his tongue bumping against Lestat's top teeth with every delicious back-and-forth push and pull.

Didn't realize what was happening until Armand suddenly shuddered and broke away to slump forward, pressing his head to Lestat's bicep as he finished trembling through his orgasm.

A bit of an awkward moment until Lestat's cock decided to remind them both of its rather prominent presence and twitch against Armand's hand.

"I didn't..." Lestat panted, "I haven't..."

Swore he felt Armand smile against his skin. "Give me a second," he squeezed again for emphasis, "I'll take care of it."

And so he had, rather spectacularly – no gag reflex that one – while smugly maintaining eye contact the entire time. He knew how good he was. Louis knew how good he was. And now Lestat did too.

–

Fuck.

The doorbell ringing snapped Lestat out of his reminiscences. "Shit," he mumbled, quickly adjusting himself to right the situation going on in his leather pants just now, thanks to the memory from two months ago.

Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts... Don't think about what we've done together, with Louis, since then.

"Hi," Armand looked almost shy for a moment, backing up a few steps so he didn't have to tilt his chin up to look into Lestat's face.

Lestat's instinct was to kiss him, depravedly, right there in the doorway where the neighbors and God might see. But they weren't dating, nor were they even established fuck buddies. A handshake would be too formal, a slap on the shoulder too "bro." He wasn't used to seeing Armand without Louis as a buffer; he'd never actually had to greet Armand as his own person before.

Armand made the decision for him, leaning up to press a quick kiss to the short, day-old scruff along Lestat's jawline before dropping back down and stepping into the house as though it weren't his first time there.

"So... What do you want to do?"

There were several things Lestat wanted to do, to him, just then. But most, if not all, of them would defeat the purpose of "getting to know each other" the way they had promised Louis that they would.

"I still have some booze? We could hit that and throw on a movie?"

Armand gave him a funny look, one Lestat couldn't quite decipher. "You invite me to the afterparty but not the party?"

Oh.

"I wouldn't call it a party," Lestat ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends the way he did when he was starting to get uncomfortable. "Just me and the guys from band, you know. I didn't think you'd vibe with them."

The truth was he hadn't thought about Armand at all. Lestat wasn't a fan of his worlds colliding.

"But Louis 'vibes' with them, yes?"

It's a trap; Lestat can feel it as he's walking right into it.

"Occasionally, maybe. He's very easygoing!"

Armand scoffed. "Louis, easygoing? Just how high are you right now?"

"What's the fucking point of this conversation anyway, Armand?" Lestat's patience quickly found its end. "I invite you over, and you're being bitchy because I didn't ask you to hang out with my friends that I know you'd hate?"

"I'm 'bitchy' because you always act like you're ashamed to be seen around me!"

Oh.

"That's not-! I'm not-!" Not sober enough to even be thinking of having this conversation is what Lestat was.

He's about to tell Armand to forget it and go home; he'll sleep this off and text him in the AM.

"Where's the booze? I want to get messed up."

Gabrielle wasn't home, and wouldn't be home until Monday. She didn't care. Who did?

"Down that way, cabinet on the right."

Armand's a lot sweeter when he's drunk, kissing at Lestat's face and collarbone in an overly excitable, almost childlike way as he bounced on the bed.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, staring into Lestat's eyes before bursting into a fit of giggles. "You should fuck me."

Lestat choked on the bottle. "Yeah, I don't think so." The look on Armand's face... "Not that I don't want to," Lestat hurried to correct his mistake, "I’d want you to remember it, you know? I've been told I am quite the experience." Couldn't resist punctuating that statement with a wink.

Armand snorted, his humor making a quick recovery. "Oh, I'm sure."

Lestat took another swig and passed the bottle. "Have you done it yet?"

"'It'? Really, Lestat? Am I a virgin? Have I fucked, banged, screwed, you mean?"

"Jesus. Yes, that's what I meant! I know we fool around, and I imagine you do the same kind of things with Louis when it's just the two of you."

Bitter, bitter thought.

"But are you a virgin?"

"Why do you want to know?" Armand seemed defensive all of a sudden, peering at him in that creepy, unblinking way that Lestat found vaguely threatening.

Something-something unpredictable and unsettling.

"No reason," he shook his head. "Just curious, that's all. And quit looking at me like that! It's very off-putting."

Rather than being insulted, Armand appeared to take it as a compliment. He smiled and leaned back against the headboard, satisfied. "Good, you should be put off."

"You literally just asked me to fuck you!" Lestat's booming laugh sounded more incredulous than anything else.

Armand stared down at his jeans, worrying at the seams of the dark gray denim.

"To answer your question: no, I'm not a virgin, but also, I have never..." He trailed off, his gaze darting around the room before settling on the helm of Lestat's maroon t-shirt as he lay propped up beside him.

Never what?

"Never what, Armand?"

"Forget it." He lifted the bottle to Lestat's mouth, tilting it back and holding it in place for him when he accepted. "Let's do something fun, yeah?"

Lestat nodded as he chugged the equivalent of three shots before pushing the bottle away, ran a hand down Armand's inner thigh, and reached over to kiss and suck at his throat.

Armand liked it, and Lestat liked doing it. "I do you and you do me?" he asked, having had yet to find his groove with Armand when Louis wasn't in bed with them, telling them what to do to each other.

Armand sighed as his hand curved over Lestat's shoulder, clearly finding the prospect attractive. Lestat already had a hand under the mesh top, grazing the soft hairs on Armand's lower abdomen, dipping two fingers below the waistband, ready to yank down his pants and slide into position when-

“Wait,” Armand smacked at his back and Lestat groaned in frustration, burying his face onto the giant paisley pattern on the duvet beside Armand’s hip, keeping his fingers right where they were until further notice.

"You're killing me, Armand. You're really killing me," he grumbled, humping the bed once for good measure – which predictably had the opposite of the intended effect and did nothing to alleviate the problem.

Armand shoved his shoulder this time, hard. “And you’re so melodramatic! Are you this whiny when it’s just you and Louis? Unbelievable.”

Lestat peered up at him through his hair, trying to force his body to cooperate with his brain and vice versa. “He likes it,” he countered back, feeling and sounding not unlike a chastised child. “Now, getting back to business,” he adjusted to nestle his forehead against Armand’s ribcage, “Was that ‘Wait, let’s pause,’ or ‘Wait, let’s stop’?”

A pause.

“It was a ‘Wait, let’s FaceTime Louis and let him watch.’”

Lestat scrambled up as though Armand had said, “The house is on fire.”

“You little minx… That’s fucking brilliant.”

Armand beamed at his approval, a tad too pleased with himself. "Here, call him," he shoved Lestat's own phone in his direction.

“Don’t boss me around,” Lestat quipped, as he did just what Armand had ordered, hitting the video call button and listening to it ring.

“Please. You like it,” Armand countered, ducking as Lestat made to grab his hair in response.

Declined.

“Ouch.”

“Oh, shut up, you little devil! I’m sure he hit the wrong button by mistake. Louis doesn’t decline my calls.”

Declined.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Smack!

“Did you just hit me?”

“No,” Lestat rolled his eyes, preparing to hit FaceTime again, “Technically, the pillow hit you. The force was all mine, though."

11:45 PM: I’m out at dinner with my family right now. Everything okay?? Love you.

“See,” Lestat crowed, “He’s not ignoring me!”

11:45 PM: Everything’s fine, beautiful! Armand’s here… We want to show you something ;)

Two minutes. Two minutes of Armand and Lestat staring at the little screen while the three little dots came and went several times.

“Too much?” Lestat’s insecurities began to flare up.

“No,” Armand snatched the phone out of his hand and opened the camera app. “Not enough… Now kiss me and make it dirty.”

Lestat didn’t have to be told twice. It was filthy, obscene, borderline pornographic-

“And… send!”

11:48 PM: look how much we miss you call us xx A

"He's not answering!" Lestat was aware of how juvenile he sounded then, and he couldn't care less.

“Give him a minute! And try to use the brain that I’ve heard you supposedly have… I’m sure he doesn’t want us to meet the rest of his family like this.”

Lestat took a minute to take Armand in – cheeks flushed from alcohol, eyes wild from excitement and arousal, hair mussed from rolling around Lestat’s pillows. He imagined he looked a lot like himself. “You’re right, mon petit,” he replied, unable to resist the endearment that he knew Armand would perceive as a slight to his height.

FaceTime Video.

“As always,” Armand remarked as he hit Accept Call, transforming the haughty, belligerent expression on his face into something downright innocent and wholesome. What an actor. “Hello, lover!”

Lestat leaned over Armand’s chest to ensure he was still in the frame, occupying most of it, in fact. “Bonjour, mon amour!"

Louis on the screen laughed, his green eyes exceptionally bright due to the lighting. “Bonjour to you too, my loves.”

“We miss you,” Armand complained with an exaggerated whine as Lestat interrupted, “But I miss you the most!”

Oh, how beautiful Louis was when he blushed – and it was ridiculously, delightfully easy to make him blush. “It’s not a competition,” he chided, “But I miss you both so much, of course. I can’t wait to be home.”

The rush from the alcohol was fading and Lestat cuddled to Armand’s side, dropping his head to his shoulder to settle his nerves. “I’m glad you picked up,” he whispered. Finally.

“Me too,” Armand nodded. “Where are you, sweetheart? I can’t quite tell.”

"Oh," Louis shrugged. "Hiding in the bathroom. I didn't know what to expect… after that photo." He blushed again and looked away.

Amazing that this was the same person that could have Lestat on one side and Armand on the other every weekend, a cock in each hand as he worked them to completion while murmuring sweet nonsense in a combination of English, French, and Creole.

The memory had Lestat subconsciously bucking his hips against Armand's leg and biting down on his lip to suppress a moan.

“That reminds me,” Armand shifted to sit up as he passed Lestat’s phone back to him. “We wanted to show you something.” Quickly freeing himself from his pants and underwear before snatching the phone right back, patting his inner thigh for Lestat’s benefit. “Go on then,” he told him.” He touched the screen and leaned back at an incline, “Camera’s on you, brat.”

Heard Louis gasp as he watched Lestat kiss his way down Armand’s navel, the tip of his cock grazing Lestat’s chin as he whimpered and squirmed in anticipation. “Don't drag it out,” he begged and when Lestat raised an eyebrow, he added, “We can't keep Louis in the bathroom all night.”

“Yes,” Louis sounded breathless, “Do it, Lestat.”

"Just where do the two of you get off, speaking to me this way?" He teased, drawing out the moment, knowing good and well the vision he presented to his captive audience. Hair escaping from the low ponytail to frame his face, the black eyeliner smudged around his eyes, making them appear massive and more mysterious, lips red and shiny and glistening from spit and precum.

Fluttered his long eyelashes shut and focused on taking Armand down to the hilt in one fluid movement, relaxing his throat and willing it to cooperate. Louis was watching, after all, and Lestat always performed better with a crowd.

“Good, so good, Lestat,” Louis cooed, and Lestat preened at the praise. “Isn't he good, Armand?”

"Uh huh," Armand moaned. "Really good. I'm not gonna hold out, baby. I'm sorry," he apologized to Louis, already linking his ankles over Lestat's back, using his free hand to tug on his hair.

You asked for quick, I'm giving you quick, Lestat wanted to say, but settled for smiling around the cock in his mouth, hyper-aware of both sets of eyes. Hollowed out his cheeks and hummed in the back of his throat, knowing he loved it when Armand did that to him.

"It's okay, love. Let go when you're ready." Fuck, that man's voice could hypnotize a lion.

Armand moaned again and shook his head at nothing in particular – the little obscene noises escaping his mouth and increasing in pitch with every merciless suck Lestat gave. “Oh yes, you will,” Louis soothed, “And Lestat will take it all, won't you, darling?”

He felt Armand’s thighs quivering on either side of his head and knew he wouldn't even need to answer Louis either way. He pulled back to grin at the camera, at Armand looking through it, mouth open and tongue lapping at the slit before closing his lips over the head once more as Armand groaned and went rigid, spine arching off the bed while Lestat's hands on his hips pinned him into place.

Lestat took it all, every drop Armand had to offer. Gave his softening cock one last suck for good measure, which earned him a cry from Armand and a "Good boy" from Louis before collapsing onto his side.

That was new. Interesting. Hot. He wouldn't mind an encore later.

“I'll do you now?” Armand's shaky voice cut through his thoughts.

"I don't think you have to," Lestat grimaced, noticing for the first time the mess he had made in his pants. He'd be so single-mindedly focused on putting on a good show, and hadn't realized he'd gotten himself off by grinding into the mattress.

Embarrassing.

"There," Lestat grabbed his phone back, holding it close so Louis would see just his face, see the proof of his labor. "I swallowed your boyfriend's load just like you told me to. Does that prove how much I love you or what?"

“How did this become about that? I know you love me, silly goose.”

“Not silly,” Lestat pouted while Armand narrowed his eyes at him, still too wrung out to move. “I wanted a chance to prove my love,” he grumbled as Lestat swatted at his hand.

“You're both so drunk! Sleep it off, my loves. I have to… clean up… and get back to the table before they start wondering where I am.”

Damn. "Alright," Lestat allowed, feeling the victor if nothing else. "I love you."

"I love you too," Armand's voice sounded small as he pulled himself up, using Lestat as leverage. "Call me later?"

"You'll be asleep! I hope. I love you both. I'll try to text you later." He blew them a kiss that they each pretended to catch, then the screen blinked and the call was over.

Lestat sighed and gently pushed Armand off in favor of getting up and stripping down, rummaging around the dresser for something clean to wear.

“You know what we should do?” Armand spoke loudly to the ceiling.

"What?" Lestat yelled from the adjoining bathroom, lowering his voice as he reentered, appreciating for a moment the fucked-out tableau Armand made.

At least Louis chose well based on aesthetics.

"What should we do?"

"Let's go into the city, it's Friday, and we have nothing better to do."

Not the worst idea Armand's ever had - the antics on the late-night trains in and out of Manhattan were worth the fare alone.

Midnight on Friday meant that most people were either on their way to the graveyard shift or just out and about and looking for a good time like Armand and Lestat. They ambled out of the bus at Port Authority and made their way to the subway at Broadway & W 41st. Lestat tried and failed to drunkenly serenade Armand around the Grand Central stop before bumping into a steel pole, much to the amusement of their fellow passengers.

“We,” Armand twirled around a pole and then dropped himself into Lestat’s lap, “Should get tattoos.”

Quelle surprise from the little imp. “Tattoos? Now? At midnight?”

“Yes.” Armand pursed his lips momentarily. “Tattoos to prove our love to Louis, as you so eloquently put it.”

“What, you’re feeling put out you didn't get to enthrall him tonight and you want to overcompensate?”

Mean, but Armand could handle it.

“I enthralled him plenty!” Armand snapped, arms crossed over his chest. “I just think it would be fun, you know?” tone softening, head to the side in a feigned gesture of submission. “C’mon, Lestat. It would make a great story." He sneered then, and the illusion dissipated, "Unless you're too chicken to do it."

"Chicken?! Who do you think you're talking to?" Lestat's left hand on his lower back kept him from losing his balance at a hard turn.

Intriguing, seeing as Lestat looked like he wanted to shove Armand onto the disgusting subway car floor himself. He settled for yanking him up to his feet by his wrist as though he were handling a toddler, heralding him to the nearest exit.

“If it’s a tattoo you want, we’re getting off here then,” Lestat announced, his voice dripping with irritation and perhaps a tad bit of excitement.

Armand gave him an icy look but made no move to separate his wrist from Lestat’s grasp, following him out of the subway and up the steps to Union Square. The January air cold and unforgiving, and he shivered in Lestat's leather jacket.

Hadn't been paying attention when they left the house – Lestat hadn't mentioned it, but Armand was sure he'd noticed and hoped he wasn't reading into it. Yet Armand was thankful for it now as it hit him at precisely mid-thigh and was infinitely warmer than his own unlined one would have been.

"It's a ten-minute walk to the place where I got mine done. They don't ask for ID if you pay upfront. Cool dude," Lestat seemed to be warming up the idea as they walked hurriedly.

“You have a tattoo? Where?” Armand demanded to know, evidently shocked, as he thought he had already seen every square inch of Lestat’s naked body.

“Guess.”

“I don’t know! Just tell me, for once!”

“You’re such a baby, Armand, I swear,” but there was no malice in it, and Lestat indulged him by pausing long enough to pull down his lower lip, revealing the BRAT tattooed on the inside. “Hurt like a fucking bitch too!”

Armand couldn't help it – he clapped his hands and laughed out loud. "Of course you would!"

“What did Louis think?”

"Told me I was a 'damned fool,' and I was lucky it was where nobody would see it or he would've dumped me for good right then and there."

“Hmm, such a shame it wasn’t on your forehead then.”

“Imp.”

“Idiot.”

Pretty Devil’s Ink was everything one might expect from a tattoo parlor that operated well past midnight and accepted minors as clients. Still, Armand felt a thrill of adrenaline as Lestat held the door open for him, waving him in dramatically.

“Hey, hey! The brat is back!” a big guy boomed in a decidedly Italian-American accent. “And he brought a little friend!”

Armand was about to open his mouth and challenge that statement when Lestat stepped around him to embrace the guy, clapping him on the back. “Hey, Nico! What’s up? Yeah, Armand here was ragging on my ass about wanting a tattoo, so here we are! He has the same problem I did, but you’ll hook him up, right?”

A dashing smile, a wink, an extra $20 on top of the cash Armand procured from his tattered old wallet, and they were going through Nico’s catalog.

More to the point, Armand was going through it while Lestat almost literally bounced from one end of the shop to the other and back – taking a swig from the half-full whiskey bottle he'd stashed under his coat earlier and touching stuff he probably had no business touching.

"So, what do you have in mind?" Nico asked. "And is it one of youse or the two of youse, because you only paid for one."

“I’m not sure yet… But it’s both, right, Lestat? We’re doing it together, right? For Louis?”

Perhaps it was the booze, perhaps it was how all of Armand’s confidence seemed to abruptly disappear at different points throughout the night, perhaps it was because Lestat never could say no to a grand gesture even when he very well should, but Lestat heard himself say, “Yes,” before he realized he’d done it.

Took a seat on the table next to Armand and picked at the black polish on his nails while Armand flipped to another page. “We should call Louis again,” he smirked, phone already out of his pocket. “Get his input.”

Declined.

“Oh, this is rich!”

“Maybe he’s still with his family, Lestat. And wouldn’t it be better as a surprise? As long as we don’t get on our faces… or somewhere equally ridiculous.”

“Whatever. Let’s leave him a voicemail.”

Declined.

“You’re breaking our hearts, mon chéri! …Armand, say something…."

“… going to prove our love to you!”

“… that’s right… prove our love to you!”

“… and then you’ll never leave us again!”

"… that's right! I must say, Armand, you have a dazzling way with words…."

"… both of youse are really drunk…  I don't know if I should be doing this…."

“… we’ll pay you double!”

“… yes, we’ll pay you double!”

“… Lestat, pay the man…."

–

Much more painless this time, given how much more cushioning that particular region of the body contained. Armand still had winced and reached for Lestat’s hand more than once – it was a different kind of pain compared to the ones he enjoyed, and he didn’t do well with the unfamiliar.

Lestat hadn't said much, having now reached the "quiet drunk" stage, but he lingered by Armand's head, allowed him pick of the music ('70s glam rock), and let him play with the tangle of bracelets on Lestat's wrists to distract himself.

Afterward, when Nico had proclaimed the job almost done ("just have to do the bandage"), Lestat took a selfie for Louis. His temple pressed to Armand's left butt cheek, next to the red half-heart – the kind that joins with another to form a whole on a friendship necklace – that had Louis written on it in cursive.

“And… send!”

“Same thing?” Nico asked when Armand stepped off the table and gingerly pulled up his pants. “Opposite heart piece, opposite side? And what goes in it again?”

“That is such a dumb idea, Lestat!”

"No, it's not! It makes perfect sense. Winner gets Louis's first name, loser gets last name! You just don't think you can win!"

“The odds are 50/50!”

“Exactly! So, heads or tails?”

“Fine… Heads.”

“Fuck!”

“I win!”

“Like hell you do, Armand… Last name is the married name anyway. It’s better.”

“That’s the booze rotting your brain, Lestat. Soon there’ll be nothing left.”

“Shut up.”

Armand appeared equal parts entertained and apologetic as Lestat struggled to answer. “It’s a long name, another ridiculous French name.”

"What about just 'DPDL'?" Armand volunteered helpfully. "He'll know what it stands for. So will you, and so will I. Who else is going to see, really?"

The unintended implication that no one besides Louis and Armand would ever see him that intimately again made Lestat's chest ache in a funny way, in a way he didn't want to acknowledge just yet.

“Yeah,” he nodded, climbing onto the table, hiding his face from Armand’s scrutiny. “Yeah, that works.”

–

"I'm going to pass out," Armand complained as they staggered back to the subway station. More so from exhaustion than anything else, the alcohol long gone and having since worn off.

He looked it too, and Lestat caught his elbow as he swayed in place. “You can sleep at my place if you’d like. Nobody’s home till Monday.”

"Thanks," Armand sighed as he linked his arm through Lestat's, both out of a desire to be closer and a need to stay upright. "My 'parents' don't even notice I'm gone. Or they don't care, you know? We're just government checks to them. Yay, foster care."

Lestat didn't know what to say, so he said nothing, but squeezed Armand's hand and hoped the sentiment came across.

“Hey, Lestat.”

They were outside the station now.

“Yeah?”

“I-”

“… You?”

“I-”

An ambulance sped by, the red and blue lights reflecting off Armand’s anguished face.

Oh.

“You don’t have to say it.”

“Why? Because you wouldn’t say it back?”

"No," Lestat brushed Armand's hair back off his face, tucking the thick strands behind his ears, taking a moment to free a rogue curl away from a little earring. "I would. I love you, Armand."

A radiant smile, a sloppy kiss, a sharp nip at his earlobe.

"Prove it then."

#🫣🫣🫣 #prompts #accidental prompt but excellent prompt just the same #this was my sunday 🥹 #lestat/armand/louis #louis does indeed have two hands #hope you like it babe <3

[commander-jbennett]

SHARE AT LEAST FIVE SONGS THAT REMIND YOU OF YOUR MUSE, OR THAT YOU ASSOCIATE WITH YOUR MUSE'S CHARACTER ARC. Including lyrics is optional.

tagged by: stole it tagging: steal it if you'd like :)

Mystery of Love - Sufjan Stevens (mostly in regards to his relationship with Isaac) = Oh, to see without my eyes. The first time that you kissed me/ Boundless by the time I cried /I built your walls around me/White noise, what an awful sound/ Oh, oh woe-oh-woah is me The first time that you touched me /Oh, will wonders ever cease?/Blessed be the mystery of love/Lord, I no longer believe/Cursed by the love that I received/ Now my riverbed has dried. Shall I find no other?/ Oh, oh woe-oh-woah is me. I'm running like a plover. /Now I'm prone to misery./ The birthmark on your shoulder reminds me./ How much sorrow can I take? Blackbird on my shoulder/And what difference does it make when this love is over?/ Hold your hands upon my head 'til I breathe my last breath/ Oh, oh woe-oh-woah is me, the last time that you touched me.

The Logical Song - Supertramp = When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful/A miracle, oh, it was beautiful, magical/But then they sent me away to teach me how to be sensible, logical, oh, responsible, practical. /Then they showed me a world where I could be so dependable. Oh, clinical, oh, intellectual, cynical/ There are times when all the world's asleep the questions run too deep for such a simple man/ Won't you please, please tell me what we've learned?/I know it sounds absurd/Please tell me who I am/I said, now, watch what you say, they'll be calling you a radical, a liberal, oh, fanatical, criminal./ Oh, won't you sign up your name? We'd like to feel you're acceptable, respectable, oh, presentable, a vegetable.

Dream Sweet in Sea Major - Miracle Musical = Alone at the edge of a universe humming a tune/ For merely dreaming we were snow/A siren sounds like the goddess who promises endless apologies of paradise, and only she can make it right so things are different tonight./ We'll go together in flight. /It's now and never, a reverie endeavor awaits somnambulant directives to take the helm./Believe me, darling the stars were made for falling like melting obelisks as tall as another realm./Un ensemble d'enfants, la galaxie s'étend jardin de l'imagination./ Combler la lacune, voler face à la Lune vois comme nous évoluons./ It feels like flying, dut maybe we're dying./ A cosmic confluence of pyramids hologrammed./ Children born of one emotion our devotion's deepest ocean no division reasoned we'll be free./ To know we are beyond a bow, and lo, the hues arrange to show it's perfectly clear. / Pure delights surround us as we sail. / Now that existence is on the wake let's see what we can make. /We will be atoning at last eternal through the past above a blinding star. / One light higher than the sun, invisible to some. Until it's time.

Father - The Front Bottoms = I have this dream that I am hitting my dad with a baseball bat, and he is screaming and crying for help./ And maybe halfway through, it has more to do with me killing him then it ever did protecting myself. /And I believe that, yeah, Dad, maybe no one is perfect, but I believe that you were pushing your luck/ It just sucks it played out like this, a terrible movie and you can tell none of the actors even give a fuck. /Can I sleep in your bed?/ And when I crawl out in the morning can I stay inside your head?/ 'Cause you were high school, and I was just more like real life./ But I was just more like his wife/ I'll do the push-ups, I'll wear the makeup/I'll do whatever he wants all night. /And I am leaving as soon as I come/As soon as I come, you will probably forget my name/I hope I fall asleep at the wheel and crash my car on the ride home. Or I could just stay here.

Broken Crown - Mumford and Sons = Well, touch my mouth and hold my tongue/ I'll never be your chosen one/ The pull on my flesh was just too strong, stifled the choice and the air in my lungs. /Better not to breathe than to breathe a lie. /'Cause when I open my body I breathe in a lie./And I will not speak of your sins/ The mirror shows not/Your values are all shot/But oh, my heart was flawed/ I knew my weakness/ So hold my hand, consign me not to darkness./So crawl on my belly 'til the sun goes down/I'll never wear your broken crown/ I took the road and I fucked it all away/Now in this twilight, how dare you speak of grace?/I can take the road and I can fuck it all away, but in this twilight, our choices seal our fate.

Magnum Bullets - Night Runner = A dark and moonless night has never felt so right. /An empty mirror only shows what's left inside/ The neon beckons me beyond its ghostly light/ No longer I pretend the staircase I descend will lead me anywhere but my unscripted end./My heart and hands collide/The gun lays at my side/Too late to turn back, only fate's left to decide/ Back up the stairs again, I am a different man. /A broken mirror only shows as best it can/Running in shoes that shine with blood that isn't mine./A stinging trophy of the battles I've survived/No longer I defend the choices I pretend could make amends that heal the loss of precious time/My conscience paralyzed against the rising tide of haunting memories that drown a wasted life.

Let the River In - Radical Face = I closed my eyes and saw my father's sins/They covered me like a second skin/I peeled them off and sure I bled a bit/And now I'm free to sink my own damn ship/I cut the branch down from my family tree to start a fire in the middle of the living room/Now the house is just ash this time, sink or swim/Let the river in if blood is thicker than water/We might drift away, but we've got thick skin.