#was write a sequel to this

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

The problem with writing established relationship fics is that the bastards insist on being cute together and won't let you get to the fucking plot.

[beforetimes]

i know the most popular version of stories where shen yuan is a disciple under shen qingqiu are the ones where he looks identical to him, but i remember seeing someone once a few years ago raise the idea of if shen yuan looked identical to yue qingyuan, instead, and it's stuck in my head ever since

because, like, i think there would be a world of difference between a shen qingqiu forced to look at a younger version of himself and one that's forced to look at a younger version of his qi-ge, especially considering that shen yuan in this au would still be studying on qing jing peak. shen qingqiu in my eyes is someone who holds onto the past so severely while also being absolutely unwilling to acknowledge that it ever happened. think of his never-ending grudge with yue qingyuan that he refuses to confront, only ever avoiding the sect leader and refusing to talk about the actual issue at the root of it all.

with shen yuan on his peak, taking yue qingyuan's young face, it would suddenly be much harder for him to avoid the reminder of his past when it's staring him in the face and wandering around his peak all the time. in my eyes i think that shen qingqiu would oscillate between pretending shen yuan wasn't even there and being overly severe with him when yue qingyuan needles him one too many times at a peak lord meeting, testing his patience until shen qingqiu retreated back to his home to find the reminder of his frustration on his peak. again.

i also think that there's a world where shen qingqiu's very very rare moments of like. very subtle and quiet softness would come out around this iteration of shen yuan. but it's very rare. like, once within the span of two years type of rare. where maybe shen qingqiu remembers long since passed times of huddling for warmth with qi-ge under scraps of a ragged blanket at night and instead of bitter anger he just feels grief at their relationship tearing itself to pieces the way it did.

now, when it comes to yue qingyuan interacting with shen yuan, i think it would be far different from versions of disciple shen yuan fics where he looks like shen jiu. because in these, yue qingyuan is facing a conjuration of himself rather than the friend he left behind, and it's much harder to take pity on and find comfort in the image of his past self — someone i think he's incredibly critical of — when it feels more like looking his mistakes in the face than seeing a student.

which is unfair to the point that it can be argued to be out of character, but i think the way that guilt weighs so heavily on yue qingyuan would lead to it manifesting outside his endless needling of shen qingqiu and unwavering following of him. because those are, objectively, pretty neutral ways to deal with those feelings, but we never really see the uglier side of it all. because i think it would rebel against his image as a calm and collected sect leader. we do know, however, that he got pushed to the point once that he nearly tore himself apart in the ling xi caves, so is it reallyyyy out of the realm of possibility that when he sees a face that is so clearly a reminder of those times that he gives them the cold shoulder?

and imagine shen yuan's reaction to it all! barely a preteen, too young for his adult mind to catch up and feeling like he's thirteen all over again instead of the twenty-something year old he died as. he hears about this kind and partial sect leader through word of mouth and from reading the novel and expects at least one adult to rely on through all the inevitable hardships just to get brushed off and ignored. turned away so politely it's almost like ice. wanting to talk to someone about getting hazed by qing jing / bai zhan but knowing somehow that like. yue qingyuan knows, he's just not particularly motivated to do much because it's not technically his business, it's qing jing peak's. retreating back home just for shen qingqiu to snap at him more than any of his other students combined some days and treat him like a ghost that doesn't exist other days, no matter what rules he breaks or what he does to get his attention.

i just think it would be interesting!! i wonder very much how shen yuan could help to bridge the gap between yue qingyuan and shen qingqiu after being thrown in the mix like that. i feel it'd be out of character to say that shen qingqiu and yue qingyuan would immediately decide they needed to sort this out and get to the bottom of the mess surrounding their childhoods but i think shen yuan there as a fresh reminder to keep it ever on their minds would eventually push one of the two to the point of needing to say something about it after decades of dancing around the elephant in the room so delicately.

shrug. i think it's such a fun concept. i will write it soon. #trust

[multch]

Caught.

Art the clown x Reader [18+]

CW: Smut\ afab Reader

Pt.1 (Thoughts)

Art just caught you red-handed pleasuring yourself but he doesn't seem to react… at first.

There stood Art the clown, leaning up against the wall with a shit eating grin- Oh God no.

Oh God no.

It was in this moment, you felt as small as a starved mouse. Has he always towered over you?

Holding your breath, your gaze hesitantly lifted to meet with his eyes.

Surely he couldn’t hear you in there… And obviously he couldn’t have been waiting outside the whole time.. right?

But what if he had. Would he be disgusted? His face contorted into a disturbed grimace. Could it change your relationship? Would he be so enraged as to consider you his next victim- ready to skin you with his bare hands. Gosh why did you ever think that was a good idea! 

Your lust was your hamartia- the trigger that would spiral into your gruesome demise; a death without an ounce of dignity.

It was as if that doorway was a picture frame holding- you- a moment frozen in time. Your face was flushed bright red and your chest heaved up and down as if you had just ran a marathon. 

Your eyes were wide in shock and pure terror.

As your gaze met his, you couldn’t help but sigh as he walked right past you. How could he be so calm? His smirk dropped as he practically shrugged you off as if you were translucent- as if you weren’t there…

What the hell?!

*

There it layed unfinished. It would only take you a few minutes to stitch back up the final rip.

Across your desk were numerous tools you used throughout the night; The jacket you worked on mere hours ago, several pairs of sharp fabric scissors and an array of pins and needles strung with thread.

Despite the busy crowd of your work-station, you remained alone. 

Where could he be?

*

You looked up at the cheap clock sitting on the wall; 2:15am.

Clutched carefully in your hand, you carried his newly repaired costume with you. When you would return it to him, you would finally be able to go home- that is if you could find him…

It was your 4th time circling around the store and only one thought remained in your mind; 

Where on earth was that damn clown!?

Walking into storage, you were met with the familiar dark and dusty sight you dreaded seeing so often. Luckily, since meeting Art, you were able to evade stock retrieval long enough during your shifts to delegate it to him at night. Unfortunately, every once in a while you would still have to venture out back during the day when issues were too urgent. 

It wasn't rare for liminal spaces to creep you out so the avoidance was understood with a few simple honks of a horn. 

“Hey Art… you in here?” You shivered.

The room was cramped and lined with unstable wire shelving overflowing with cardboard boxes of various sizes. As there were no windows, who knew what could be hiding in the shadows. 

As your eyes adjusted to make out shapes within the darkness, your hand crept around the wall beside you for a light switch.

Aha! There it was.

As you went to flick the switch your heart suddenly dropped.

That’s not the switch… 

Two cold hands grabbed your arm in an instant, pulling you towards a firm chest.

Shit!

“Art! Oh my goodness I am so sorry,” you blurted, “I was just looking for the lightswitch, I didn’t mean to-” 

While what you could see was limited, what you knew was abundant. Your cheeks burned up as you realized what you just did. You didn’t flick the lightswitch, you just hit Art’s nipple- god that’s so embarrassing! You practically screamed at yourself.

What did you drag yourself into! First you think he caught you finger fucking yourself to the thought of him. Now you're in a dark storage cupboard and he's completely naked! 

It's not even his fault, you sighed. You're the one carrying his repaired clothes- Damn it! You should've given him something to wear- you work in a costume shop for christ’s sake!

There, you continued to ramble on and on. Uttering something about an extra Santa costume. Suddenly, you gasped as Art pulled you closer towards himself.

Oh.

Seems like Art noticed your distraction and gave you something else to think about. Yes, he was naked but that didn't interest you when you knew you could lean into the tenderness of his sharp touch.

It ran through you- that burning, stinging sensation everywhere his skin touched yours. He was frozen. He kept pulling you closer into his chest like he needed you to survive. Like your warmth was addictive.

His arms wrapped around you like a snake while he tucked your legs between his thighs.

You looked up at him only to be met with the same shit-eating grin as last time.

What a pervert.

He was infectious. Once you had laid eyes on those disgusting tar black teeth and dark doe eyes, it was as if a command came over your soul. The corners of your lips unconsciously lifted into a smile. Maybe you would take advantage of this proximity for once…

Laying a quick peck on his bottom lip, you chuckled as you knew his facepaint had transferred to your own.

Art always knew how to make you laugh as he reared back to make an exaggerated shocked face. Quickly, he returned the offer by giving you a toothy grin before smashing his lips into yours.

Driving your bodies forward and away from the initial wall, Art bites your bottom lip as a plea for entry. Your back arches against the shelving as he pushes into the kiss. You let him- loving each and every second of pure bliss. 

His tongue explored every inch, every tooth, every surface. It felt like you two stayed like that for eternity. It was as if once you would open your eyes, the night would be long gone.

You winced when you were forced to pull yourself away- heaving large gasps for air. 

You couldn’t believe it. First thing you’re working a simple 9-5 and next thing you know you’re making out with the most infamous murderer in all of New York. The thought was enough to send a surge of energy rising through you.

But is this all? It’s been 3 whole years where you’ve spent countless nights fantasizing about and being subject to his mindless antics. 3 whole years. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as you turn back to Art, placing your palm against his hollow cheek. 

Whatever, you were happy to finally show your devotion to him at last…

As your lips hover over his, you gaze into his eyes. Pitch black with not a soul in sight, yet a carefulness he held while looking back at you. Back at you until… 

You felt a strange sensation graze against your thigh.

It was in the moment you learnt it was possible for the white clown to turn a subtle shade of pink. 

His eyes dodged down as he seemed to shuffle slightly further away. Choosing to hide in the shadows again, Art took a couple hefty steps backwards until all you could make out was the outline of his prominent features within the shadows.

“Oh shit..” you uttered under your breath. Art was hard. Oh my goodness, Art was hard and embarrassed. 

Weighing up the pros and cons, you quickly bit the bullet and made up your mind. You were going to take that risk even if it could cost you your life. Art was everything you wanted and more. He had been so helpful over the past few years, you thought he deserved a small favor in return.

Stepping across the small storage room, you land in front of him- placing your hands on his chest. His skin was frigid and without a pulse.

“I can help you with that,” you whisper into his ear.

Despite the quick shocked expression Art played with, it was as if you caught his sincerity for a second before he snaped back into miming an over-emphasized swooning motion; fanning himself with his hand before pretending to faint.

His eyes stare far into yours as if seeking reassurance before acting on his own accord.

You nodded. Falling to your knees, you steadied yourself with both hands holding onto his legs. 

There it was. 

While you had seen it plenty of times, you had never imagined it from this angle. It was ample in length and wide in thickness. The sight was enough to make your mouth water.

You carefully grip the base and work your hands up and down his shaft before placing it in your mouth.

Paying attention to every ridge and bump, you slide your tongue across his length. As you begin bobbing your head back and forth, you look up to find Art’s embarrassment is long gone.

His eyes are shut tight and his mouth gapes open like he's lost for words. (if he had any, that is)

While you pulled closer and closer towards the base of his cock with every thrust, Art put his hands on the crown of your head, pulling you further into him.

Sliding down your throat, you gagged as Art thrusted his shaft into the roof of your mouth. 

For someone so shy before, he’s taking control of this alot more than you expected..

Drool pools at the corners of your mouth, dribbling slowly down your chin. Art takes notice and drags his hand down to wipe it with his shaky thumb.

Fuck- he was so far down the back of your throat, you swore it was a miracle you were till breathing by now.

Thick white ropes coated the walls of your mouth. The action sent you bucking back as it forced you into a coughing fit. God was he bitter tasting.

He flung back before patting your head. It felt degrading- almost as if you were his pet in need of praise after completing a trick.

Lifting your gaze to look up at him, he sends back a dramatic shocked face before shifting to his usual wide grin.

As you stuck your tongue out, you chuckled before swallowing his seed.

*

Zipp! And that was the last of it. All that was left was to lock up the store and you were done. Your desk was cleaned, your repairs were finished and your clown friend was very happy. 

While you loved your job, you were terribly excited to finally go home and have a long rest (maybe even a sweet treat too)

You let out a chuckle as you watched the live footage displayed on the security cameras. Despite being colorless and grainy, the expression on Art’s face was clear as day. There, he waved into the camera- his face imitating the pure joy of a small child* in a candy store; with a large smile and immense energy radiating from him.

(*As pure as he can get considering he’s a murderous hell spawn, but we won’t talk about that…)

He tipped his tiny top hat towards the camera, then swiftly turned on his heels to face the exit.

Ding! Ding! Ding! The bell rang out as Art made his exit, and it was as if he had suddenly vanished.

You couldn’t wait for tomorrow… 

Maybe work could be a bit more exciting from now on, you thought.

[greencreekwolf]

crying after sex

buddie | explicit | 81k | read on AO3

Marie's eyes flutter open and then she looks at Buck, brown eyes sultry and kind and warm. God, he misses Eddie. Buck chokes on it. Everything about Marie, every mark she has left on him, washes away. All of it, all of the good and fun he buried himself in, that he set himself free with, is replaced. By Eddie. By the missing him. By the wanting him. Instead of Marie’s lipstick and spit in his mouth, all he can taste is Eddie. All he knows is Eddie. All he wants is Eddie.

or, eddie moves to texas, buck spirals and has a lot of sex and spirals some more

AO3 link

[cheriboms]

since manfred is learning to read (+ speak), and spite/cole both like being read to, i thought it only made sense theyd have a little unofficial book club :) unfortunately some picks are more... ahem... educational... than others >_>

[zepskies]

More of This

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: Welcoming Russell home, where he belongs.  

AN: Here it is - bonus drabble time!~ This can be a stand-alone, but it’s really a snippet missing from Lost Time in the Every Second Counts-verse. Using the GIF above from 2x02 specifically for the hair flip. It did things to me... 😮‍💨 (But there are NO spoilers for 2x02).

Shoutout to @impala-dreamer who helped inspire this in our @jacklesversebingo chat. 😂

Word Count: 900

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smut and feels, small tinge of angst. Russell's hair. Tattoos. Everything really.

💜 Series Masterlist  

“Welcome home,” you whispered into his mouth.

All Russell could offer was a breathless sound, caught somewhere between an agreement and a groan of pleasure. He was being treated to a feast of the eyes as you rode him slow in the comfort and safety of your bed.

Your lips didn’t quite manage to connect with his in a kiss, with heavy breaths in between and a deliberate roll of your hips against his. He’d been letting you control the pace of him sheathing home with your every drawn-out thrust.

He was enjoying the show—your hair wild, your pupils blown wide with arousal, being able to palm at your breasts and tease your hardened nipples, kissing your flushed, dewy skin.

But you could feel him getting desperate. His hands moved down your body over soft curves, just for his fingers to squeeze into the flesh of your hips and ass, trying to ground himself in you. His eyes shut and his head fell back into the pillow. You bent down and fastened your lips to his neck, kissing and sucking hard there. He slid a hand up your back and buried it in your hair.

“Takin’ me so well, baby,” he said, his voice deep and rough, and a bit strained. “But you’re torturing me a little bit.”

You giggled breathlessly into his neck. Your tone was playful and coy when you replied, “What do you mean?”

You made a show of raising your hips, letting his hard length slide out of your wet heat all the way to the tip, before you slowly sunk back down. You shifted your hips along the way, until the thick head of him was nestled deep and pressing against your cervix. You both panted for breath. Even your arms were shaking while holding yourself above him.

“Yeah, think you’re trying to kill me,” Russell uttered. “Suppose there’s worse ways to go…”

“Fuck,” you muttered, releasing into a moan. The languid drag of his cock against your inner walls was good, but nowhere near enough at this point.

Maybe you were done teasing him, as well as yourself. Maybe you were done punishing him for taking one contract job after another, taking so long to get back, and making you worry about him and his safety. Your lips made their way back to his cheek, laying a sweeter kiss there.

“Okay.” You smiled against his skin. “How about you fuck me like it’s been three months, not three weeks. I wanna feel you come hot inside me—”

Russell wouldn’t even wait for you to finish the dirty whispers already setting his blood alight. His tattooed arm wrapped around your back and pulled you flush against his chest. He manhandled you seemingly without much effort, twisting you onto your back and having you laid out underneath him.

You let out a huff as your back met the mattress and made the springs squeak. Your head barely made it onto the pillow where his head had been, but your boyfriend wasted little time in grabbing your thighs and angling you just right, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. (You didn’t need any encouragement.) He took you hard and deep, making sure he hit that sensitive spot inside you with every thrust.

You gasped and clung to his broad shoulders.

“Right there, sweetheart?” he said near your ear. His voice was rich and gravel. A shiver ran through your body, goaded along with every other sensation he was drawing out of you. You couldn’t even speak. Just a nod and a broken, desperate whimper. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip.

You were holding on for the rest of the ride. If nothing else, Russell had precision, and he was a master of his craft. And that was whatever he set his mind to.

His hand slipped between your bodies for a moment, his fingers searching, and finding, then massaging your swollen clit between thrusts. You cried out in his ear and damn near choked on your own breath, your nails biting into his shoulders. It didn’t take much longer for that tightening coil in your core to finally snap, your inner walls throbbing around his cock.

A curse and a ragged groan fell from his lips as his body locked up on him as well. You felt his body stiffen and the warmth of his release deep inside you. The sensation elicited another shiver down your spine.

You were on birth control, but it still made you feel a bit wild sometimes, whenever he came inside you. You relaxed underneath him with your knees bent, your thighs a soft cradle for his hips.

Russell kept himself upright with his forearms resting on either side of your head. His long hair had slid forward, the brown silky strands tickling your forehead as his panting breaths mingled with yours.

You attempted to brush some of his hair back behind his ears, but it fell forward again, tickling your nose. Russell allowed it on purpose, making you laugh lightly. He grinned in response, but he lowered further to capture your lips in a kiss. He didn’t mind this one being nice and slow.

Even when he parted from you, you still craved more of him. More of this.

You slipped a hand over his bearded cheek, an affectionate caress. A softer smile drew across his lips. He rested his forehead against yours, and he chuckled a little.

“It’s damn good to be home.”

AN: 🫣 Lol hope you enjoyed this one! ❤️‍🔥

Join Patreon 🌟 For early access to new stories, bonus content, first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Series Masterlist || Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist 

Russell Shaw Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @rizlowwritessortof

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

@arcannaa @angelbabyyy99 @twinkleinadiamondsky @ladysparkles78 @mistressofallthingsgeeky

@juno-pixie @deadlydivergentgirl @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @fanficwriter5 @kayleighwinchester

@isla-finke-blog @kr804573 @corruptedcruiser @deansbbyx @lacilou

@ej13928 @star-yawnznn @djs8891 @stoneyggirl2 @yvonneeeee

@rrahuntersblog @superbouquetgarden @impala67stellawinchester @whimsicalcherry @deanwinchestersgirl8734

@hobby27 @iloveyou2mia @deadlymistletoe @smoothdogsgirl @fanfic-n-tabulous

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat

[qodlysinz]

Behind That Mask

—The Day of the Jackal—

Pairing: Alexander “Jackal” Duggan x Reader

Summary: The Jackal can’t do much without the help of his trusty hacker—who incidentally flirts with him any chance she got. Jackal is displeased.

Tags: second person pov, female pronouns used, depictions of blood, mentions of guns and violence, fighting, swearing, light angst (like very light, blink and you’d miss it), heavy flirting, reader is a hacker and former MI6 agent, italics is dialogue through the comms, reader’s nationality isn’t mentioned so imagine whatever you want

A/N: The Jackal has like no fanfics and this idea came to me in a dream while I was watching the show. It’s very Penelope Garcia and the BAU but a bit more toned down because not everyone is like Miss PG 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ this idea was gonna be an oc initially but I decided the feed the people instead of let it collect dust in my archives like my ocs usually do

You click your pen meticulously as you examine the schematics of the building Jackal was currently in. You toggled one of the buttons, triggering the body heat sensor. A soft chuckle emitted from you as you saw Jackal’s figure carefully stalking through the building.

“People on your six,” you told him, setting the pen aside, “there’s a closet to your left, go in there till they pass.”

“Too many?” He guessed, his voice coming through the comms. You nodded, though he couldn’t see it, “bingo. About five people. Looks like three of them are carrying guns, and you don’t want to get into a gunfight.”

Jackal’s figure slipped into the closet, his breathing heavy as he waited for your command.

“So.” You started, resting your face in your hands as you stared blissfully at the screen. You heard Jackal sigh. “What do you wanna talk about?”

Jackal was quiet for a moment, but you saw his hand come to rub his temples through the screen. You rolled your eyes. “I have a job to do. No time for your incessant need to try and woo me.” He remarked.

“It’s not incessant,” you argued, “it’s called testing how well you handle distractions, J.” You tapped the side of your head with your finger, brows raised suggestively.

“Obviously I handle them well, otherwise I’d drop you.” He muttered under his breath. “Is it clear?”

You waited for a moment, humming, “not yet, they’re chatting, hold on for a bit.” You replied affirmatively. “Are you saying I’m too good to kill? Wow, what a compliment from your stoic self.”

“Didn’t say kill.” Jackal refuted. You nodded, letting out a soft laugh. Your eyes followed the men as they began to walk off. “You’re good to go.”

Jackal crept out of the closet and walked on through the building. “Where’s the target?” He asked.

You searched through the building, humming a quiet tune as you did so, “floor above you, room in the far-right corner.” You nodded.

You weren’t exactly sure what brought you to this. Helping the famed Jackal get his hits through. You hadn’t even seen his face—at least not without the ridiculous disguises. Not even in the three years you’ve been accomplices. He didn’t trust you yet, but that wasn’t much of a problem to you. If you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t even trust your own family.

Jackal always carried a phone with him; not one he needed to dispose of regularly like he used to. You had been kind enough to rig the phone he had to not be able to be used to track him or the people he was calling. Meaning, whenever you got a call from your lovely, emotionally constipated hitman, it wouldn’t even trace to you. Truly amazing handiwork, if you said so yourself.

A loud gunshot was heard through the comms. “Target down.” He spoke gruffly. His tone was always a bit more choked whenever he dropped a target, but he wasn’t the type to get all mushy and come to you of all people about it.

“Quick exit down the fire escape. Pull the fire alarm as you go, the craze will let you get away without any attention drawn.” You said, shifting to your next computer screen as you heard a ping. “The money is being wired to your account as we speak, Mary Poppins.”

Jackal grumbled at that, the fire alarm blaring as you heard the echo of his steps. “I’ll get back to you when I’m in the clear.” He stated. “Remember our protocol.”

“Roger.” You cut contact and stared at the picture. It was a composite drawing of the Jackal, or, at least what they thought he looked like. It could not have been more far off, and it made you chuckle. You pressed a button, clicking your keys as you sent it to his phone with an amused (and sarcastic) ‘wow I finally saw your face!!’

There had been numerous Jackal facial compositions over the years, and somehow they were all utterly terrible and looked nothing like Jackal, even if you hadn’t seen his true face, you knew he looked nothing like that. It was laughable, really.

Though, each time they popped up, you worked your magic and had them destroyed or lost to the web as a meme some Redditor (aka you on an alternative account) came up with for a random thing made with AI. No one took AI seriously. You didn’t want to risk him getting caught. Even if the sketches were shit.

The first time you ever got involved with Jackal was when he had apparently heard of your ‘impressive work’, as he’d say in that smooth voice of his. You were just some nobody working at a tech company, and you were only twenty-nine at the time in a small apartment in New York. The fact Jackal had gone international just to meet you was a bit flattering, but he was very intimidating and sort of reminded you of Batman if he was skinny and lean. Maybe more like Robin, actually. He was wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses, and a surgical mask to hide his face, which had felt like overkill to you, if you were being honest. It was summer, for christ’s sake.

Nonetheless, Jackal was… somewhat kind. He wouldn’t threaten you. He did at some point, and you had burst into tears—he gave up and hasn’t done it since. You’d think you’d be used to that type of shit in New York.

Since then, you and Jackal have been long distance friends… kind of? You lived in Paris now, since it’d be easier for Jackal to get to you without flying a whole ten hours (which was freakishly far, you wondered where he was in his downtime). Leaving New York was for your own benefit too, of course. You had no family there, and your friends were under the impression you got an amazing job opportunity. Unbeknownst to them, that job opportunity was helping an underground sniping legend. Who you happened to have fallen for a few months into said job. His accent is really what did it, honestly.

After a few more weeks from the last job, Jackal had another one, and you were his confidant yet again. Probably your favorite part of it all, if you were honest. Getting to playfully flirt with him was the highlight of your day, even if it ticked him off a little bit.

This job was in Paris, so, to your delight, Jackal would be on site near you to prepare. You had insisted he stay with you, but, of course, he was as untrusting as a cat and outright refused.

And yet, in the late night, he used the very same overkill disguise when you two first met, and showed to your doorstep.

“Jack, what a surprise.” You said with a snort, opening your door wider for him to enter.

“Police were outside the hotels and Airbnb’s nearby.” He replied gruffly. You chuckled, “they’re on high alert because you’ve been taking more hits lately.” You shrug. “Don’t you think it’s annoying that they couldn’t give less of a fuck if it was a random person than if it was a big name? It’s so pathetic.” You mutter, mostly to yourself as you head towards your kitchen. “Oh, no. A corrupt fascist got popped in the head.” You added sarcastically.

“PR.” Was all he said, dropping his bag on your table, hesitantly removing his cap, a subtle glance at you, skeptic. You cracked a glimpse in his direction. “Oh, you’re a redhead. No wonder you’re so freckly!” You laughed.

Jackal scoffed. “I’m not a redhead.” He denied. You rolled your eyes in amusement, “so you’re just an average white man?” You joked.

“What’re the schematics for the opera house?” He changed the subject and tussled his hair, likely having been in his cap for a while. You got the memo—you were playful but not an idiot, you knew when he wanted to talk business—and nodded and went to your computer setup, muttering to yourself as you pulled it up on your screen. “So, this opera singer really pissed your guy off, huh?” You asked Jackal, going to the main auditorium part of the building.

“I don’t really care.” Jackal leaned over the desk, his hand resting in the back of your chair. As you went through the schematics, he perked up, “hey.”

“Hey~!” You grinned cheekily. He shot you a look of impatience. “No, hey, as in look.” He pointed at the screen. “Will you indulge me just this once?” You asked quietly, but followed Jackal’s finger to the top of the auditorium where a large ring that was mostly inhabited by the richest of the rich was set. But just above that, was the perfect vantage point for Jackal to take the shot.

You hummed, “nice eye.” You praised, looking at him with a grin. “Sure you can take it?”

He huffed at that. “‘Course I can.” He retorted, “show me what it looks like on the inside.”

“So full of demands.” You tut, shaking your head, “one day, you know, I will worm my way into your circle.”

He chuckled dryly, “somehow, I highly doubt that.”

“Why’s that?” You rose a brow, spinning your chair to face him fully. He set his hand on the arm of your chair, looking closely at you. “Because I know you were an MI6 agent.”

You blinked, staring at him. “I wiped that from every document you could get your hands on…?”

“You’re not the only one good with computers.”

You scoffed as you shook your head. “You’re such a dick, you know that?” You zoomed into the building, a glower in the direction of Jackal.

“You should consider yourself lucky enough to even know me as you do.” Jackal stated and spun your chair back to face the screen, wordlessly telling you to get back to work. “Oh, believe me, I do. And you should consider yourself lucky to even have me on your side. You’ve never even been in the vicinity of another agent. And you’ve got me to thank.”

He paused for a moment before sighing. “Thank you.” He spoke with an oddity, one you didn’t really pick up on until you spoke.

“You’re welcome.” The smile you fostered dropped, stopping in your tracks as it hit you. He noticed and looked at you, his brows furrowed. A solemn look made its way onto your face as you turned to meet his gaze. “Why can’t I ever tell when you’re being sincere, Jackal?”

“Because I don’t want you to know.” He replied stiffly. You opened your mouth to speak, rubbing your nape as you turned back over to continue your work. “I won’t turn on you, you know. I’m better than that. You don’t need a stupid mask to shield yourself from me.”

“Anyone who knows me is in deliberate danger. Your… assets… are special. You getting hurt would be a waste. And we both know I don’t trust you.”

“But I trust you. I don’t know why, exactly, but I do.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Why? Because you think you can dictate what I can and can’t feel? I don’t know your name, where you live, why you do what you do… but I trust you, because if you wanted to kill me, you would have done so already.” You didn’t turn to talk to him, you just did what you needed to.

Jackal let out a breath, one of disbelief, “like I said, killing you would be a waste. Your assets are useful.”

You clenched your hand around your mouth, jaw clenched. The same song and dance that happened annually at this point, but this time you didn’t reply. You breathed out through your nose. Screw it, this moron needed a reality check, you didn’t care if it rarely ever got through to him. You hoped it would eventually. “Existing is going to get pretty fucking tiring if you pretend to be different people every second of every day. You may be a damn good sniper, but even you have limits, Jackal. Don’t test them, don’t be an ass, and, for fuck’s sake, stop being an idiot!”

He blinked, staring at you. He hesitated, he looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what to say. The words died on his tongue, all he did was just stare and give a slow nod. “Fine.” He muttered. “I’ll let my guard down… slightly.”

“Good.” You huffed.

“Good.” He agreed.

[meekaroonie]

A day late but here it is! @candycatfalls Bill gets held day! This scene takes place after my vivisection fic . They’re having a well deserved break watching Repo! The Genetic Opera after a harrowing procedure 👍

Happy to announce Nurse Bill lives!! For now…

When I first watched Repo! with my friends every time Paris Hilton’s character came on screen everyone would be like “omg Paris Hilton!” So I got confused and thought she was playing as herself in it 💀

[gothic-btch]

Kaeya tries too hard with getting Albedo to like him, overly flirting, touching, seeking him out, obsessing over him and trying to always be around him

Albedo tries hard to distance himself from Kaeya bc he doesn't know what the hell this feeling inside of him is but he's pretty sure literal butterflies have found their way into his stomach to torture him and somehow Kaeya's the one who did it to him

Diluc is pissed bc he thinks that Albedo is leading his brother on, and who does he think he is? So like the good big brother he is he goes to give Albedo the shovel talk and Albedo is all like "what's a crush" and Diluc realizes that he isn't a jerk, just dumb

Kaeya ends up giving up bc he's like, Albedo clearly doesn't like me, I don't wanna harass this dude plus I look desperate.

Diluc helps Albedo start reciprocating Kaeya's feelings, then they realize that he gave up so now they need a new plan. Except Diluc doesn't talk to his brother so he tries to hangout with him to get to know him better and Kaeya's all suspicious

Kaeya thinks that Albedo and Diluc have joined forces bc they both hate him and now feels super shitty and sad about it. Every time the two try to interact with him he thinks it's a plan to humiliate or hurt him and gets super depressed

Albedo and Diluc don't understand what they're doing wrong and amp it up 10× (now also trying to get Diluc and Kae to fix their relationship) and they just make everything worse

Klee is basically the go to vent person in all of this (not venting all their feelings ofc, but Klee is super helpful regardless) and through the power of Klee everything ends up perfect in the end

Diluc and Kaeya are brothers again, Kaeya and Albedo are dating, and Diluc and Albedo each earned a new friend

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

You're Safe With Me

Poe Dameron x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 6: Sex Work

Summary: Poe gets captured on a mission and you're the closest to his last location.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for betaing!

This prompt was super difficult and I have kind of just done something that vaguely relates to it.

Warnings: resistance!reader, bad guy here is VERY gross, imprisonment, slavery, implied future sex slave, kissing, sex pollen, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2131

When you’d been told that Poe had run into trouble during a supply run on Tel’Ra you’d expected jail, the first order, him hiding up somewhere with a blaster wound. 

You had not been expecting… this. 

You’d been the closest to the planet and had found the traders quickly when you landed. Only to find out that there had been a miscommunication somewhere. They had thought Poe was the payment, not the negotiator. 

Fucking hell.

You’d spend the better part of the last thirteen manic hours tracking him down, going from trader to trader until you got here, a meeting with the quadrant Tsar. 

He was a large Terlion, powerful in his golden armour. He’d greeted you in his native tongue, and you knew enough about the culture of Tel’Ra to reply in basic. If you even said one word in the Tsar’s language then that was all he would speak, and everything would get very messy. 

“This… humanoid,” the Tsar formed the word slowly, “He is yours?” 

You nod and he pauses.

“I paid good coin for him.”

“So you admit he’s here?” You keep your tone even and calm. 

The Tsar smiles and gestures to one of his guards, speaking in Krazel. You understand enough of the language to understand that they’re bringing Poe here. 

Relief floods your veins, that was something at least. 

“The traders had no right to sell him to you.” You repeat. 

“But a trade was made, wasn’t it? You received goods for him?” The Tsar smiles.

“The trade was for Keseun. Not him.” You swallow, the guards in the room make your skin crawl, there were too many. Even if they had been troopers there was no way you could get out of an altercation alive, besides Terlions were large, physically powerful. One alone could snap you in half with two fingers. 

You keep your chin held high, they respected confidence, straightforwardness. They wouldn’t attack unless you made a faux pas. 

The resistance needed them to stay outwardly neutral to the rebellion. The planet was no fan of the first order, but would trade with anyone that showed respect. 

You couldn’t blow this. 

“Keseun.” The Tsar repeats, stroking his chin. 

“I would offer you the same, for this inconvenience.” 

He nods slightly, thinking when the door opens and Poe is pushed into the room.

You try your very best to hide the shock on your face.

You’d assumed that he had been sold as a labourer, or a servant. Not as… not as a… 

Your gaze hinges on his scantily clad form, soft thin fabrics and lace and dripped in gold jewellery. 

Your mouth dries as heat runs along your skin. That’s when you notice his expression, the relief plasters all over his face as he sees you. 

You shake your head ever so slightly, trying to clear your not so pure thoughts, and chastising yourself. 

“This is the humanoid?” The Tsar asks, beckoning with his hand. The guard pushes Poe forward to him. 

He stumbles slightly, and you see the gold chains are not just for decoration. 

“Yes.” You nod. 

Now that he’s closer you can see the thin gold bar across his lips, the chain connecting around the back of his head, keeping his mouth closed.

The Tsar touches Poe’s cheek, grabbing hold of the back of his neck when he struggles and flinches away. He chuckles. “He is a spirited one.” He pulls Poe closer, forcing him into his lap and you stand, anger blazing through your veins. 

The guards around you tense, but you keep your hands open and away from your weapons.

The Tsar laughs again, waving his hand and the guards relax. 

Poe looks at you imploringly, at first you think he is begging for your help. But then you realise he is pleading for you to leave, for you to not get hurt for the sake of him. 

“He has quickly become my favourite.” The Tsar grumbles, holding Poe to him, “I will enjoy taking-”

“He is mine.” You snarl, taking a step forward. Oh, this was risky, far too risky, but you don’t know how else to play this. 

The Tsar raises an eyebrow, amused “Yours?” 

“Mine.” You swallow, you might as well go the whole distance now. “My mate. Mine.” 

Poe gives you a confused look as the Tsar freezes, his fingers digging into Poe’s side. This was a faux in Terlion culture, this had implications for the Tsar. 

“Your mate.” He repeats and you nod. 

“My mate.”

“You did not say this before, why?” There’s anger in his voice. 

“I did not want to cause embarrassment over a mistake, however, you touching him and flaunting,” you shake your head, injecting as much rage into your voice as you can to cover the panic. “I cannot stand for it.” 

The Tsar’s grip loosens on Poe, but there is fury burning in his gaze. “Humanoids… lie.”

“I am not lying about this-”

“I have no way of knowing if you are other than your word. Which is worth little.” 

You clench your jaw to stop it shaking. 

“If he is… yours. Then he would pass the test of Seva. He would resist the touch of anyone but you.”

You swallow. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You’d heard of Seva, a plant extract that caused extreme arousal that was banned in half of the galaxy and highly regulated in the other. It had been used in the past to prove the loyalty of royalty’s romantic partners. If someone took it and were truly devoted to their spouse then they would only accept the affections of that person while under the influence. But if they weren’t… well, anyone’s touch would do.

You and Poe weren’t together. This was going to end very, very badly. 

“I am insulted that-” You try to argue, but the Tsar cuts you off. 

“The test will be taken, and if he goes to you then you may take him from here without payment,” he pauses, “as I will deal with the traders myself, however if he doesn’t crave only your touch, I will keep him and wear your skin as a trophy and nail your tongue to the wall as a warning to other humanoid liars.” 

Somehow you keep his gaze. “Very well.” 

You were going to be sick. There had to be something, some way out of this. You rack your mind, searching for anything, anything.

A servant brings an ornate pot to the Tsar, bowing as they take off the lid and use a golden spoon to measure a serving of the fine seeds. 

The Tsar undoes one of the chains at the back of Poe’s head, finally allowing him to open his mouth. He looks at you, about to say your name. 

“It’s alright.” Your voice is soft, even. Somehow sure of itself even if nothing else about you is. 

He keeps his shining eyes fixed on you as he opens his mouth and swallows the seeds when offered. 

The servant steps back, retreating and the Tsar smiles. 

“It will only take a few moments, Seva is strong on humanoids.” He muses, “If he is not yours as you say, I will claim him now to relieve him of its effects.” 

Poe shivers, blinking hard. Heat starts to run along his skin, first like a gentle breeze, a caress that is not unwanted. 

The Tsar strokes his back amused as Poe shakes his head, trying to clear his quickly clouding vision. 

The touch is… nice. Soothing almost. Poe leans back into it, sighing. He needed to do something, there was something he was trying to remember… but his thoughts just wouldn’t hold. Would slip out of his grasp the second he tries to focus. 

A weight settles in his stomach, his muscles clenching. He wanted…

The Tsar laughs as Poe sighs, pushing back as he runs the tips of his fingers along his skin. Triumph in his eyes. He takes Poe’s chin and turns him towards himself.

Poe goes with the touch, lightheaded and… he freezes, pain spikes into his chest. There’s a pause, a look of horror on his face before he practically throws himself off the Tsar, and scrambles back. He shakes his head rapidly, his eyes wild and glazed. 

The Tsar frowned, about to speak. 

“Poe!” You rush forward, panic gripping your chest. “Are you a-”

The second he sees you, relief rushes into his mind, presses solidly into his bones. He grabs hold of you, his skin hot and sweaty, “Baby, baby, baby,” he slurs, practically sobbing as you help him to his feet. Which is easier said than done.

He presses his body against you, whining the second there is a fraction of space. 

“Poe, it’s okay,” You soothe, trying to keep him upright. 

He buries his face into your neck, shivering and breathing hard. “It hurts.” He whimpers and you hold him tighter. 

The Tsar drops to his knees, “A great insult has been cast to you by myself.” The guards all fall to their knees as well.

“I-” Your own gasp cuts you off as Poe kisses your neck, lightly sucking on your skin as he grinds his very obvious erection against your leg.

“I will sort this disservice with the traders, please, I offer any future trades to go directly through me and my house to ensure its standards.”  

“Thank you,” you manage to get out, as you grip Poe’s wrists to stop him from undressing you then and there. “There is no ill will, please let me leave you with Keseun as a sign of my appreciation.” 

The Tsar nods deeply, “I will accept, and will repay you for your generosity in the future.” 

Poe wriggles one hand free, pushing his fingers under your shirt.

“I, thank you,” you bow your head, “I need to be getting back to my ship and-”

Poe kisses your cheek, nipping lightly at your jaw as he tries to press his lips to yours. 

“Please,” The Tsar gestures to the side, “Let me show you our hospitality, at least while the effects are still strong in your mate.” 

You want to refuse, you want to get the hell out of there. But there’s no way you can get Poe to your ship like this. 

You nod and are quickly guided to a lavishly decorated room. You barely get the chance to thank the servant before Poe’s tongue is in your mouth. 

It’s dizzying, desperate the way he moves against you, how his hands slide and tug at your clothing. He pushes you back, up against the door.

“Poe– Poe,” You manage to pull yourself away, to resist getting caught up in his warmth. You have no idea how this worked out, maybe Poe had gotten himself together for long enough to throw himself away from the Tsar and to you? 

“You okay?” You hold his cheeks, stroking his feverish skin. 

“Need you,” he moans, his eyes soft and dilated. 

“I’m so sorry.” You mutter. God, you had to find something, do something, knock him out for a few hours until his body worked this out of its system. 

“Why? Why? You saved me.” He bites his lip, rubbing his hips against yours. 

“Hey, hey, let’s see if we can-”

“I love you, you know that?” 

You freeze, your mind blanking out for a second.

“Ever since Heiran. Ever since then, I knew it, I love you.”

“Poe, you’re not thinking straight, the, the S-”

“I should have kissed you on Heiran,” he closes his eyes, pressing his face into your hands and sighing. His skin is burning, desperate for the relief of your touch. “I should have kissed you after, I was scared. Scared you’d reject me…” His eyes are shining when they open, “But you can, you can say no. I won’t…”

He lets out the sweetest sob when you lightly kiss him, moaning into your mouth as you wrap your arms around him and pull him close.  

“I should have kissed you on Heiran,” you whisper, “I wanted to.”

He groans, rocking lightly against your legs to take the edge off the deep ache in his stomach. “I…” He bites his lip, it hurts. The weight is so much, too much. All consuming now that he knows you want him to. 

“Here, it’s okay,” you turn him around so that his back is flush with your chest. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” You kiss his temple, his skin feverish and sweaty as you slide your hand under the fabric around his waist.

He moans, grabbing hold of you desperately as your fingers touch his velvety length. 

“It’s okay.” You soothe as you start to stroke him in earnest. “You’re safe with me.”

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes ho

@steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie

@silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

@alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood 

@pygmi-cygni @hammerhead96 @emma23 @sub-aro @killerdollz

 @maplemind  @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist @dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious

@homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop @oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus 

@mandytrekkie @lounilu @avengersinitiative2012 @pigeonmama @marcsb1tch 

@iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan @faretheeoscar@lonelyisamyw-0love 

@queerponc @Twwcs @Spnwhore2430 @mari-thesimp @krakenkitty

@marcsb1tch @pigeonmama

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[renthony]

Want to read a short story about a nonbinary autistic ship captain and a mysterious magical passenger?

In THE QUEEN OF CUPS by Ren Basel (that's me!), a mysterious woman known only as The Oracle resides on the seashore, blessing ships and telling fortunes for those who can pay her price. For new-made ship captain Theo Marinos, the price is higher than it first seems.

If Theo has any hope of surviving their ship’s first voyage, they must trust not just in The Oracle, but in themself–for the journey is long, and the ocean’s tests are many.

Ebook

Paperback

Goodreads

[chaotic-adhd-gremlin]

Rob can absolutely understand what the badniks are saying and he swears he did NOT program them to call Stone that. Despite his best efforts his babies won't stop and he refuses to translate for Stone when he asks why they keep beeping at him like that.

I don't know I really love the idea of the badniks being affectionate with Stone I think it's really cute. ♥️

Dialogue transcript under the cut because my handwriting is... Anyway, transcript:

Stone: Wow, you're all extra chatty today!

Badniks: *a cacophony of beeps* ♥️

Robotnik: Stop distracting them!

Stone: Yes, doctor!

Badniks: *a chorus of "Mama Stone! Mama Stone!" and "Papa Ivo!" ♥️

[on-leatheredwings]

Secret Admirer

Yandere! Dick Grayson / Yandere! Green Lantern! Gender Neutral Reader

> romantic > tw/cw: yandere behaviors. Kissing. Heavy petting. > rated M > summary: You should stop playing with fire. Because when you do, you make him want to be crazy. Crazier. And Dick’s worked really, really hard to wrap those habits up. > a/n: wow nothing truly despicable in this one i’m so vanilla now <3 the reader is male to me but feel free to imagine what you want. I rlly like writing pre-yandere + pre-relationship stuff, it’s so fun . may write more for actual smut possibilities > word count: 1472

Newly-acquired powers or not, you are really poking the bear here. 

Dick has known you've been following him since yesterday. He allowed it because who was he if not a performer? He thrived on attention, and especially yours. But today, you had gotten too close to a fight. Sure, you had stayed an appropriate distance away, but the fact it had happened at all was worrying. It made him distracted. Distracted enough that he wasn’t pulling his punches on criminals like usual. 

“Now that it’s getting quite late–” he begins, to which you audibly gasp. An adorable sound. “–how about you finally come out and let me help you?”

He turns around to a swath of darkness that paints the rooftop’s entry door in black shadow.

Behind the corner, you curse. Damn it, he caught you. … Well, you could’ve told yourself this would happen. Dick, the fine friend he was, surely said it would. No one really ‘sneaks up’ on one of the Bats. And definitely not Nightwing, the most tenured of them all aside Batman himself.

You got caught, and lord knows what Nightwing will do to you. You bite your lips, mind running wild. Who knows what Nightwing will do to you, indeed? You feel a pang of arousal at the thought. 

You step out of the shadows, trying to act natural. Nightwing’s eyes lock onto your humble form, and you find yourself warming over every inch of your body. You want him bad.

His body stiffens, for reasons you can’t discern. It doesn’t seem like hostility… you think?

You adjust your domino mask, cursing silently that the adhesive is finally starting to give after a long night of following him around. Stealth isn’t really a natural gift for a Green Lantern, either. Turning down your glow while using your powers to maintain soundless stalking was hard. Harder than expected. 

“What are you doing here?”

You smile, hoping your giddy expression is hidden by the hoodie you’ve chosen to wear on your escapade. 

It certainly is not, which makes Dick pleased.

Now that you've made contact with him, his first thought is that he ought to tell Batman about this. And the rest of the team, while he’s at it. Dick Grayson knows that Nightwing is your 'celebrity' crush, and that you're enamored with the rest of the Bat Family. What if you confronted them someday as well?

On the Batcomputer is a file on John Stewart, complete a footnote that is you. Said footnote has graduated to its own page, now that you have your own hero exploits to document. They'd be less welcoming and more wary of a hero on their turf. He has to protect you.

“I… I…” you croak, tongue heavy with anxiety. You can’t help but be nervous. 

“Sometime tonight?” he teases. 

“You’re beautiful,” you blurt.

He is taken aback, before he recollects his wits. 

“I really like you,” you say again, stepping forward. He lifts his hand in warning. Stay back. You get chills, but don’t stop treading forward. You can tell his eyes are narrowed beneath his mask.

When he’s finally in arms’ reach, you are pushed against the wall. And not roughly at all, you notice. You smile with delight, your hands immediately landing on his shoulders. Nightwing’s glare doesn’t feel hostile at all. Suspicious, maybe. But not hostile.

“... What do you mean by, you “really” like me?” You suspected that he probably wouldn’t believe you.

“Well,” you fluster, “I mean that I really like you.” Dick’s heart jolts. “And I want you.” It nearly flatlines.

Oh, don’t say that, don’t say that, Dick thinks, despite the elation that begins to tighten his throat. You? Want him? If he had known all he needed to do to grab your attention was put on the suit, he would’ve done that ages ago. He felt nearly invisible to you during the day, all his flirtation falling on deaf ears and blind eyes.

At Nightwing’s silence, you lick your lips. An action that makes his eyes dilate behind his mask. 

“I-I’m serious!”

Nightwing leans in closer, as if inspecting the truth in your expression, raking over every atom. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he breathes.

“It’s not a game at all to me,” you say, feeling lightheaded from the small distance between you two. This doesn't feel real.

To love and be loved is all you’ve ever wanted. You’d think that would give you the violet ring of Love. Instead, the ring that had appeared in your hand one fateful night was acid green, sparkling and mesmerizing. Apparently, instead of embodying love, you simply were driven enough to seek it at any costs. Driven enough to never be alone ever again.

You have the ability to overcome great fear. Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps, it said. You had taken it without hesitation.

“Kiss me,” you say, hands rising to cup his jaw. As if he’s not already leaning in.

Your lips meet in an unabashed frenzy. You’re nearly blown away by the pure amount of feeling in his kiss – that's quite a lot of emotion for a stranger. Not that you aren’t equally impassioned. You feel so raw and naked, kissing him. You hope he can't feel all your insanity, your obsession, your infatuation.

However, Dick certainly does, so much that he moans openly, the sound making both your lips buzz.

You make him want to be crazy. Crazier. And he’s worked really, really hard to wrap those habits up. 

You shudder, feeling the pressure of his cup press in between your thighs. God, you wished you could feel the real thing. Your hand slips in between you two, tracing the lines of his abs. Dick shivers. He peels off your domino mask, but you don’t even flinch. You don’t care if he knows who you are. You want him to know everything. Inside and out.

Your eyes flutter open as you gyrate against his hips, sinful and frustrating. You peer up at him, cheeks blazing. You want him.

He looks into your eyes, and it's as if he can read your mind. He wants to swallow you whole. He wants to map every inch of your body. His cock is painfully straining against his suit. You are not a want, but a need.

But Dick is trying to be good, he really is. The night’s not over. He’s still on patrol, technically. You may want Nightwing, but do you want Dick Grayson? If he fucked you on this rooftop, throwing restraint into the wind, would that be taking advantage of you? Do you just hero worship him? All the questions fly through his mind at rapid speed, and he wants them to quiet, before the Angry Orphan inside him decides to just stop caring completely. 

But he… he’s strong. We don't have to be, his mind interjects, screaming at him. But he quiets it. He whimpers at the tightness against his groin, a sound that makes you look at him curiously. You are completely blissfully ignorant to his inner strife. Completely innocent.

Dick narrows his eyes, channeling his best Batman impression.

“You should go home.”

You balk almost comically. “W-wait.” Nightwing retreats, but not before you can grab his wrist. “At least– at least, can we go on a date? Or even hang out? Or–” His thumb traces the curve of your lips, silencing you with a shiver.  

“Go home.” Firmly said, yet gentle.

You frown, though it’s more like a pout. Man, you’re cute, he thinks. “When can I see you again?”

Dick certainly isn’t strong enough to be responsible and say “You can’t.” 

So Nightwing just stares at you, looking… hesitant. The pieces click in your mind. Ah, so he liked it. Your lips curl, like a cat with cream. You take that as a victory.

“... I-I’ll come back tomorrow night,” you state boldly, stealing a chaste kiss before he could argue. Dick has to basically pull himself away, despite his desire to keep your bodies flush and perfectly fitted against one another.

You slip your ring onto your finger, and your entire body glows, rampant with Lantern light. You begin to float.

“Tomorrow!” you blurt, already wanting him again. You zip away, flying home. All the while, you slap at your warm cheeks, trying to see if this is a dream, laughing with glee, mind going haywire with heated fantasies. You kissed Nightwing. You basically groped him. And he didn’t stop you. Oh god, wait until you tell Dick. 

The confrontation went better than expected. At worst, you figured Nightwing would shoo you away, reject you. Despite the abrupt ending, he at least seemed… interested? You try not to dwell on it too much. It doesn’t matter.

You’re a Green Lantern. You’re powerful. Willful. He will be yours, someday.

[prokopetz]

If I ever got to write the script for a sequel to a popular open-world video game I would go out of my way to establish that the canon outcome of the previous game was something no normal player would ever think to do. Not anything impossible within the established framework of play, not a too-clever "all outcomes are true at once" sleight of hand – merely a very unlikely sequence of events. Like, you know the people who speedrun Disco Elysium with the explicit goal of simultaneously maxing out their political alignment in both Communism and Hypercapitalism in the same playthrough? The canon player character is That Guy.

[zepskies]

CONNECTION

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Soulmate!Reader 

Summary: Beau saved you from your car nearly going over a rickety bridge, discovering he was your soulmate in the process. Now, the two of you enjoy a milestone date at the county fair.

AN: Finally, here’s the sequel to Over the Bridge! If I get more inspo for this in the future, I may come back to these two, make it a little soulmate storyverse. 💜 Plus, this also fulfills another square for @jacklesversebingo.

JVB Prompt: “Am I under arrest or not?”

Posted on Patreon: 5/07/2025

Word Count: 2K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, lots of flirting and sexual innuendo, bits of spice, protective dad Beau, smidge of angst

Read Part 1 || Beau Arlen Masterlist

“Well, this is just theft of the highest order.”

You giggled around another (stolen) mouthful of rum raisin ice cream, complete with little praline pieces, all while screaming kids of all ages on the Tilt a’ Whirl zoomed by behind you and Beau.

Chaos filled the grassy fairgrounds from every corner, from the bleating goats and mooing cows at the nearby petting zoo, to the rigged carnival games posted every ten feet or so, creating a maze of color and noise.

The smell of fried food was thick in the air like invisible fog; greasy pizza and burgers, over-buttered popcorn, caramel covered apples, cloying cotton candy swirled with fried Oreos and other icing-covered confections, all priced at nearly triple they were worth.

Beau had spent a chuck of change just to get the two of you into the Lewis and Clark County Fair, along with Emily and two of her friends. She had run off an hour ago with his last $50 in cash. He was resorting to his credit card now, though he refused most of your offers to pay for food and drinks and games throughout the night.

He invited you, after all, and this was technically your fifth date. One month in.

Sometimes he found it hard to believe that he found you out on the Morelli Bridge, your car literally hanging on the edge. And then your thoughts ran through, sharp in his mind, a vice grip around his heart. Something deep inside him gave way, like the shifting of tectonic plates.

He felt you, and everything changed.

He'd pulled you out of that little Toyota, covered you with his body when bullets rained across the side of the firetruck partially giving you two cover. He escorted you to safety through the shootout before he and his team wrangled up the would-be thieves of a showhorse, Big Thunder. (The stallion had proved to be too much for his captors anyway.)

Now, you were stealing his ice cream.

“I just asked you to hold it for me, not take a chunk out of it,” Beau pressed his point, albeit with a chuckle at your embarrassed, yet somehow unapologetic face.

“I’m sorry, I just took a little bite!” you said, and handed him back his cone after he put his wallet away. Your smile turned sly. “I forgot which one was mine for a second.”

Punctuated by a generous tonguing of your ice cream cone, heavily laden with your own order of rocky road this time.

“Sure,” Beau snorted. He eyed you in suspicion, even though he was drawn to the way your pink tongue slipped around the soft tip of your ice cream. That, and the way you looked up at him through your lashes.

“I gotta call it like I see it, sweetheart. Petit Theft in the first degree,” he added. But his arm snuck around your waist and pulled you in close. Caging you in.

A smirk began to play on your lips. “Hmm. Okay, Sheriff. Am I under arrest or not?”

His mouth twitched. Don’t tempt me. I’ve got a pair of handcuffs strapped to my belt right now. 

His thought clearly reached you through the bond—the golden, thrumming thread that tied his soul to yours. Or at least, that's how he saw it in his mind whenever he closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of you. He was pretty sure his heart was following suit, especially when he could feel your flirty amusement, your flush of pleasure at his suggestion.

Joke’s on you, you shot back, all while you savored another lick of ice cream. I don’t mind being restrained.

Beau choked on a piece of praline. Your giggle reached his ears, but your soothing hand up and down his back is what made him preen like a dog getting scratched behind the ears.

You’re dangerous, he replied. He was smirking way too hard, his face getting warm as the suggested fantasy started to play itself out in his mind. He could tell that you noticed, mostly because he could feel your amusement through the bond. Now a month into this, it was getting easier to tell, and easier to control what he let slip through this little WiFi connection.

Your resulting smile was impish. Sexy as hell really. No one would ever know it by the look of you, a high school English teacher with sweet smiles and smart, encouraging words for his daughter about life, literature, and work ethic.

But Beau was already getting a much different education. He was learning fast too. You were a little wild cat hiding under pretty blouses, manicured nails, and sharp, teasing eyes.

He felt the edge of your nails grazing up and down his spine. A nice tingle trembled down and down, shooting right to his dick.

I thought you weren’t afraid of a little danger, you said, the words like a sultry caress in his mind, warm and effervescent in his chest.

Somehow, he managed to swallow past another dose of rummy caramel and a raisin chunk without incident. You gave him a taste of your rocky road as well to pay him back for your earlier theft.

“Dangerous and cheeky,” he muttered afterward, unable to temper a smile.

You just tipped your head back and laughed. It made your body shake and your eyes shine.

He couldn’t resist the compelling urge to bow his head to kiss you, capturing your lips, swallowing your giggles, warning you with a playful squeeze on your waist. You clung to the front of his buttoned-down shirt and dueled him for another taste of butterscotch, this time from his tongue.

After a couple more samples, you realized that the real ice cream was melting. You pointed out a bench to sit and finish your confections in peace, so he followed your lead. He still kept a casual arm around your waist.

He liked the feel of you in his arms. So far, you were a hell of a good fit.

He’d spent most of his life skeptical of the “cosmic bond,” of soulmates. He was twenty-five when he met Carla. They were barely a year in when she told him with teary, anxious eyes that she was pregnant. He thought he'd done right by marrying her, no matter what his mother said at the time.

A whole fifteen years later, and one hell of a year he'd tried to forget, Carla grabbed the whiskey bottle out of his hand long enough to tell him that she’d found her true other half, a man that wasn’t broken. A man that could understand her, support her—everything Beau just couldn’t do anymore. Maybe he never had.

That man bought a three-story house on a hill out here in Helena, Montana for just him, Carla, and Emily.

Beau moved out here along with them, but he was lucky if he got a full week with his daughter, especially after he admittedly almost got that smarmy crypto thieving bastard killed two summers ago. Now that was another one Carla hadn’t forgiven him for. Not that he blamed her either.

Believe it or not though, Beau wasn’t feeling sorry for himself. He was trying to learn from his mistakes too. He’d told you some of that long, long story, but not all. Some things were too difficult, and some things he wasn’t ready for…but he did want to be better.

You had no say in who you were saddled to on this soulmate thing, whether he liked it or not. (And there were times when it was both.) It didn’t mean you had to be with him, but it did mean that he wanted to try to be a man who deserved you.

“Okay,” you said, tapping his thigh. By now your cone was gone, and he was polishing his off. You were reapplying your lipstick. He liked that shade on you, like taking a bite out of a nice juicy plum. “What do you wanna do after this?”

“I’d like to find where my daughter ran off to.”

Beau had half his attention on you and the other half scoping out the fairgrounds. He’d been trying his damnedest to keep an eye on Emily, even after she ran off with her friends. She did check in every hour via text, but it wasn’t the same as putting his own two eyes on the girl.

Okay, maybe Beau was a little paranoid on the subject, but he felt it was immensely justified. After what happened two years ago, she was lucky all he did was start tracking her phone. 

You, however, had proven to be a major distraction.

But he had a lead. You'd told him that Em and Jake, some kid in your honors class, had been “talking.” Beau had even overheard his daughter talking with her little friends, something about meeting him by the Ring Toss.

“Where’s the Ring Toss again?” Beau asked. He took out the folded-up map from his back pocket and spread it out across his thigh. You leaned over and pointed it out, tapping a couple inches above his knee.

“Looks like it’s right around the corner from the Ferris Wheel.”

Hmm, of course, he thought. Without meaning to, it slipped through the Connection and reached you. You glanced over at him and noted that calculating look on his face. Your lips twitched upward.

“What?” you asked.

“I think she’s meeting ‘Jake from Statefarm’ over there,” he said dryly, complete with air quotes.

You tilted your head at him in amusement. “Hmm, interesting. What do you plan to do, Detective?”

Beau checked the app on his phone that tracked his daughter’s. Sure enough, it showed she was close by. He compared it with the map to try and figure out an exact location.

“Oh, nothing,” he said. “Just gonna see if my daughter’s trying to pull a fast one at the quintessential make-out spot for generations of county fairgoers across America.”

You bit your lip and valiantly held in a snort. Though you just had to inject some reality into his little melodrama.

“She’s 18 years old, Beau. You think she’s never made out with a boy before?”

The man released a long and heavy sigh. He preferred to think of his daughter as his perfect little angel who still thought boys were “doodie-head dummies,” like she claimed when she was eight. However, he’d noticed her wearing a lot more makeup recently. More crop tops and tighter clothes too. He hoped it wasn’t Carla who was buying her that crap.

…But that wasn’t a rabbit hole he needed to travel down tonight. After a beat, Beau shook his head.

“Anyway, ready to go, milady?” he said, offering you his hand after he stood from the bench.

You quirked a brow at him, but you accepted the offer.

“If you’re going to try to get me on that big metal hamster wheel of death so you can spy on your daughter, I’m just letting you know right now that it’s not gonna happen,” you informed him.

Beau gave you a charming smile then, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Aw, come on, darlin’. It’s perfectly safe. I’ll be holding your hand the whole time.”

And more than that, if you let me, he teased. And he was satisfied at feeling the weight of your blush, the warm tendril of pleasure.

“Nuh uh. I’m not doing it, sorry,” you said, even as you fought a smile. “I’d rather make out in a haunted house than risk getting stuck a hundred feet up in the air.”

Beau could respect that. But, an idea struck him when he noticed the horse-drawn wagon up ahead. Now that’s worth $20.

“How about a hayride?” he suggested.

Your eyes followed the path of his pointed finger, and you smiled.

“Oh, now you’re talking.”

“Twenty minutes, takes you all around the grounds,” he said. “Potentially some exclusive spots.”

Cue a suggestive brow waggle.

You smirked. “Twenty minutes, huh?”

Let’s see how many bases you can run, cowboy. You squeezed his arm, no doubt pressing your tits against his bicep on purpose.

Beau shot you a look, half amused, half heat and warning not to tempt him too much. He didn’t need more than half the town catching him in flagrante, so to speak. He shook his head, even while a smirk once again pulled at his lips.

Fuckin’ dangerous, sweetheart.

Your unrepentant giggle could’ve done him in right there.

AN: lol I hope you guys like this little soulmate au! I haven't been to the fair in years, but for some reason I'm craving rum raisin and a candy apple lollipop. 😝

Join My Patreon ⟡ Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories. Top-tier patrons can even send me requests!

⋆˙⟡ Follow @zepskieswrites (with notifications on) to get notified every time I drop a new story. 💜

JVB Masterlist

Beau Arlen Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Beau Arlen Tag List:

@luci-in-trenchcoats @supernotnatural2005 @waynes-multiverse @gabavaldman @hobby27

@kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @everything-is-all-clear @suckitands33 @roseblue373

@globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19

@rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @kmc1989 @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91 @ladysparkles78

@deansbbyx @chernayawidow @syrma-sensei @tmb510 @k-slla

@mrlonelycat @mimaria420 @mrsjenniferwinchester @fromcaintodean @cheynovak

@deanbrainrotwritings @jackles010378 @alwaystiredandconfused @my-stories-vault @siampie

@sanscas @kaleldobrev @angelbabyyy99 @spnwoman @pieandmonsters

@ultimatecin73 @nicksalchemy1 @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7