#But man it felt good to draw body studies again

[finzphoenix]

I may or may not have been stalking your page because I am LIVING for the way you draw Arkhamverse Eddie. He is stunning and gorgeous and I can't get enough, its become my eternal life source 😭

AND I screamed when I found that body study art of him??? Like I have been searching far and wide for some half-naked/sexy art of Eddie and I am just 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

You draw him (and everyone and everything else) so goddamn well and I am in awe of your talent! I so look forward to whatever you post next! 💜

Oh my gosh, thank you so much; I'm super glad my little drawings bring you all this joy! Meanwhile I'm just over here hoarding your sweet words and amazing stories like a squirrel its food for dire times fghdhjdkl *///*❤️❤️

Ahh, the body study is a pretty old one, right? Apologies for all the cringy drawings you had to witness till you reached the post, I would pay personal injury compensation if I could, but for now a more recent study will have to do, haha :"D🫶.

I like to think that his physique has become sort of wiry over time, letting bones and muscles become more prominent due to both, the strenuous physical work and his refusal to eat more than a couple of old crackers a day (because he obviously has better things to do, lol)

[little-diable]

Run – Jasper Hale (smut)

This is dark, please be aware of the warnings! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Jasper is up for a chase to finally claim (y/n); basically just pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, outdoor piv, rough piv, heavy dubcon, dark!Jasper, chasing/being hunted, choking

Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (2k words)

The sound of leaves being crushed beneath her boots rang in (y/n)’s ears. She had her eyes focused on the trail, surrounded by trees, as she kept on walking. She had been desperate for a distraction — some time away from her home and the walls that kept closing in on her whenever her thoughts began to wander.

Soft rain was falling from the sky, slowly soaking through her sweater, barely managing to protect her from the cold creeping up her limbs like a snake slithering from Eden. (Y/n) tried to keep herself focused on the steps she took, careful not to trip over branches and stones as her surroundings grew darker. She wasn’t a stranger to this trail; she had walked it numerous times before, but today it felt different, darker, and more haunting than all those times she had walked it with a friend.

Her body jerked to a halt as the sound of a branch snapping apart rang in her ears. Goosebumps rose on her skin, just like the hairs at the nape of her neck. She could instantly tell she wasn’t alone. Even though her mind told her that it had probably just been a deer, her gut told her something different. 

“Hello?” (Y/n)’s soft voice echoed through the dark forest, carried by the rain that now fell heavier, as if Mother Nature was warning her, telling her child to return home before she could lose her shot at this life. A shaky exhale left (y/n) as she slowly turned back around, knowing that it was time to leave this forest for good. But she didn’t get far, once again forced to a halt as her eyes found a pair of golden ones. “Jasper?”

The man stared at her; he was standing a few feet away from her, studying (y/n) with a smirk glued to his pale lips. His smirk had something dangerous about him — something that made her heart beat faster, telling her to prepare for whatever was about to come upon her. 

“Jasper? Are you alright?” Her voice wavered as her eyes stayed glued to Jasper’s features. She had always been interested in him — the one who had always managed to draw her closer without many words shared between them, the one who had always piqued her interest as if her body and soul knew that he’d do her good. At least until this very moment. 

“Run.” The second the words had left Jasper, (y/n)’s body forced her to run, stumbling down the trail as she ran as fast as her legs managed to carry her. Tears welled up in her eyes as fear began to nibble on her soul, whispering to her that her end was near, telling her that whatever Jasper was about to do to her would leave her trembling and panting. 

“You’re fast; that’s admirable.” He was suddenly standing in front of her, catching (y/n)’s frame as she collided with his frame. She was shaking like a leaf in his grasp, staring up at the man who still wore that sinister smirk paired with the look that told her she wouldn’t manage to escape him. 

“What do you want from me?” One tear managed to drip from her eye — a tear he caught with his thumb, wiping away the salty drop. Jasper forced her to move with him, allowing him to press her against an old tree. She was trapped between Jasper’s front and the tree, telling her that there was no escaping, forced to follow his every command.

“You’ve always been a frightened little thing, haven’t you, darlin’?” Jasper’s voice dripped with something she couldn’t pinpoint, drawing another shaky exhale from her parted lips. “I always felt your eyes on me, wondering what you were thinking about. Tell me, darlin’, were you scared of me?”

(Y/n) could only shake her head, unable to reply with words. It was true – she hadn’t feared him back then, drawn closer by her curiosity and the crush on him she had always fostered. Jasper’s chuckles forced her to flinch, staring up at him as he dipped his head down, his lips almost ghosting over hers. 

“And now? Are you scared?” It took her a second to react. Even though her mind told her to speak up and tell Jasper that she wasn’t scared, her body whispered to her to close the gap between them. There was no use in running; she could only win if she managed to distract him. 

She shifted her weight onto her toes to close the gap, letting her lips press against his cold ones, a shared kiss she had always dreamt of as a teenager — wondering how it must feel to be kissed by the mysterious guy. Jasper instantly reacted to the touch, pushing her against the tree once again while cupping her cheek with his right hand, while the other found her waist.

He forced her lips apart, letting his tongue meet hers in a possessive manner – she was his at that very moment, the one to follow his every command, the one to chase, the one to hunt, the one to own. The soft moan clawing through (y/n) left Jasper chuckling in glee, parting from her to give her a few moments to catch her breath while he stared down at her. 

“How about a deal?” Jasper murmured his words, while (y/n) was heavily panting, struggling to wrap her head around the past moments. She stared up at him with confusion tugging on her features, waiting for him to keep on speaking to explain to her what he wanted to do to her. “I’ll give you another shot at running, but if I catch you, I’ll get to fuck you out here.” 

“What?” Her words were followed by a few chuckles, not believing the words he had just murmured. But the hand finding her throat, pinning her head against the old tree, cut off any sounds from leaving her, forcing her to quiet down. 

“I’m not in the mood for jokes, darlin’. Do we have a deal?” (Y/n) was all too aware that he hadn’t told her about what would happen should she manage to escape, but deep down she was well aware that she couldn’t outrun him – not after the chase that had happened only minutes ago. 

The second she slowly nodded, Jasper gave her a push, letting go of her throat. Her body was aching as (y/n) began running, not daring to look back to try and get as much distance between her and Jasper. Her heart was pounding, and her lungs were begging for some air, but she couldn’t give in and was solemnly focused on running. Whatever was happening left her torn between fear and excitement; she was not used to seeing Jasper like this. 

He seemed like a predator, as if he had done this chasing thing before, knowing exactly how it would play out. (Y/n) could only hope that he hadn’t done this with other women, not liking the thought of Jasper claiming other women. While her thoughts began to wander, the thick trees blurred by, past her running self that would give in way too soon, unable to fight against her exhaustion. 

But before (y/n) could even think about slowing down, she was ripped to the ground, her eyes forced to meet his darkening ones. Jasper was hovering over her, straddling her aching body to keep her trapped once again. 

“I won.” Those were the last words Jasper spoke before pulling her back onto her feet. Everything moved too fast; one second she was pressed against his front, and the next he had her back pressed against another tree. His tongue fought its way back into her mouth, not giving (y/n) a chance to protest as he undid the button of her jeans. “I can’t wait to claim your cunt; I bet you’re already needy for me, aren’t you?”

Something inside of her forced (y/n) to shake her head, momentarily overcome by fear as it began to dawn on her what would happen in the next moments. It was true, her body begged for him, wanting to feel him buried deep inside of her while he fucked her against the tree, but her mind forced her to snap out of her hazy thoughts. This wasn’t right. It shouldn’t be like this. But fuck, she wanted him — every part of him. 

“No? You aren’t? So my fingers won’t be coated in your arousal when I touch you?” He pushed his hand into her panties, groaning at the feeling of her arousal sticking to her folds. She had been dripping for him since their first kiss, overcome by her needs — the deep need to be claimed by Jasper in the most primal way imaginable. “You liar.”

She choked on her gasps as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, while his cold lips found her pulsepoint. (Y/n) heard him chuckling, a sound that sounded all too far away as she was sucked into a trance, solemnly focused on his touch. His cold thumb found her pulsing bundle, circling it with quick movements to leave her shuddering. 

“I should punish you for lying to me, but for tonight, I’ll let it pass. I’ve been dreaming of your tight cunt for too long.” And then everything began to spin, one second he had his fingers buried inside of her, and the next he had pulled away to force (y/n) to step out of her jeans. Within seconds, he had picked her up, only to force his cock into her tightness.

Both moaned in unison at the unfamiliar sensation, bodies being united for the first time, finally giving in to their longing. Jasper fucked her against the tree as if it was their only shot, the only moment they’d get together, a man on a mission, while (y/n) lost all grasp on reality. Tears dripped from her eyes, running down her cheeks as if every fear was leaving her body, slowly allowing her to relax. Whatever power Jasper held over her, it guided her like an invisible force, forgetting every darkening sensation.

“You’re even tighter than I thought; you’re perfect for me.” She gasped against his lips, tugging on her blonde curls to try and stop herself from giving in too fast. Jasper fucked her rougher than she had ever been fucked before; he didn’t care about bruising her or the air she needed to breathe, letting his hand rest on her throat all too carelessly. 

(Y/n) should have cared; she should have pushed him away, should have tried to leave him, but her body wasn’t ready to part with him. Every fiber of her body was aching for him, needing to be as close to him as possible — the man who had owned her heart for years, the one she’d think of in desperate moments. 

Today she didn’t care about her dignity; today she didn’t care about being treated right; she was only focused on her arising high. Her orgasm would claw through her way too quickly, urged closer by her shaking fingers, finding her clit, rubbing it fast enough to give herself the needed push.

Jasper watched her come undone with a smirk, grinning at (y/n) while he kept burying his cock inside of her. She stared up at him as if he was the devil, forcing her to realise that she was his from today on, a deal she couldn’t pull away from. He came with a groan, letting his forehead press against hers while their bodies stayed connected. 

“Don’t wander through this part of the forest if you don’t want to be chased; remember that, darlin’.”

[thewitchblue]

"Why'd he send you?"

Bruce asked bluntly, his Batman suit on with his gaggle of children evasdropping in the background not-so-subtly. I quirked an unamused eyebrow at the bulky man in front of me.

"It just so happens that I owed Constantine a favour. Do you want my help, or do you want to deal with your little demon friend all by yourself?"

Batman huffs an amused laugh. This is the best demonologist Constantine claims in the world? Red Robin asked Nightwing in a mutter,

"I'm not seeing things, am I?"

Apparently, he didn't think I'd hear him. I smirked as I turned my attention to the older Robin. He nervously shifted his weight when my intense gaze watches him, before becoming a bit panicked once he realized he physically cannot move away from me as I approach. I eye him up-and-down with appreciation before saying,

"You're cute, Little Red. Let's get coffee sometime. After I banish this fucker, of course."

This seemed to surprise everyone in the cave, but my focus was back to the demon Batman managed to get an attachment to.

"Now, how did you manage to get this fucker attached to you? Were you feeling especially lonely and struck a deal?"

I eye Batman curiously. Red Hood chuckles in amusement, but I choose to ignore him. There is a weird tension in the room when Red Hood and Batman make eye contact, so I clear my throat loudly to draw attention back to me as I study the cage that the demon is currently trapped in it. He managed to isolate and contain the demon, so that's a start. He sighs and explains,

"No, I'm not lonely enough to stoop so low."

I give an acknowledging hum. My eyes stay trained on the demon. It was rattling the cage it was imprisoned in, hissing and cursing at me while I approach it.

"Let's just ask the demon then, shall we?"

I stop in front of the demon and ask it,

"Now, what deal did you two make?"

The demon merely growled in response. I growl back at it, reaching into its body and squeezing its heart until it whimpered. I hiss,

"Answer me."

Its gravelly voice said,

"I was promised a new body by an alternative Batman. Clearly, I made a wrong turn."

I purred as I released my grip,

"Good boy."

Batman frowned in thought, but stayed silent by my side. He seemed to already have an idea of who struck the deal.

"Now, which Batman promised you this wanker?"

The demon snarls,

"He goes by Owlman. He merely promised me a Batman."

I give a thoughtful hum as I fully remove my hand from its heart, wiping off the dark blood from my hand.

"Well, that turned out swimmingly for you, didn't it?"

It snarled in response to my false sympathy. Red Hood snorts at my antics. He seemed to be entertained by the entire situation.

"Well, it appears your little deal wasn't fully thought out. I'm sending you back. Next time, possess Owlman instead."

I murmur my spell softly to myself before snapping in a particular pattern. The demon howled before it dissipates like mere smoke. I crack my knuckles nervously before turning back to the Batfamily and saying,

"If you need my services again, ask Little Red over there. He has my number."

Red Robin looked confused until he reached into his pocket and felt the slip of paper I planted on him. He pulls the slip of paper out of his pocket to the dismay of everyone in the cave. I send a wink his way once his disbelieving eyes turn back to me.

With a wave of my hand, I disappear from their cave before anyone could reply. Truthfully, I was a tad nervous to hear his reply. I'm still rusty when dealing with the living after spending so many years trapped in a metaphorical cage with anti-magic wards. Before John saved my sorry arse, I was entrapped for pissing off the wrong crowd.

I have much more experience with the dead and celestial as a result. They are a lot easier to figure out and handle than regular human beings.

Tim had never been more conflicted. Granted, he didn't have anyone who showed genuinely interest in him like this demon hunter. He had to applaud the flawless effort.

"Aww, you two would be so cute!"

Dick said with an encouraging grin. Dick, of course, was excited and happy for his brother. He wraps an arm around him in a side hug before letting go and saying,

"You should reach out! The chemistry between you two reminds me of myself and Starfire."

Jason rolls his eyes and fakes gags at Dick's brotherly excitement. Despite his annoyed exterior, he still defends Tim,

"You care too much, Grayson. Let my replacement come to his own decisions."

Tim gives a shy smile. The demonologist was rather cute and he appreciates the boldness and the stealth it took to even slip the note in his pocket. He softly says,

"Maybe I will."

[cevansbrat0007]

Bad Days

Summary: Ari helps you get through a particularly bad day...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Insecure Reader, Ari Being A Menace, Discussions of Poor Body Image, Body Insecurities, Name Calling, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Oral Sex (Fem Rec Implied), Ass Slapping, Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“I don’t think I wanna do this.” You grumble as you walk into the living room. You lean down to hand your companion a glass of scotch, offering him a half smile when he gently takes it and places it on a nearby coffee table. “Seriously.”

Instead of responding, he simply pats his lap and waits. 

“Okay. How about we don’t need to do this?” You try again, hating how relaxed his big body seems while taking up way too much space on your couch. 

Ari shrugs then, catching his plump bottom lip between his perfect teeth and waits. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t demand. Doesn’t boss. He just waits.

For you.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice comes out softer now, more delicate. “And it’s not like it's gonna change anything.” 

Your Bounty Hunter cocks his head to the side, one tawny brow raised as he patiently waits for you to continue cycling through your list of objections. 

“I just have bad days sometimes.” Hot tears prick the backs of your eyes. But even though you’re quick to blink them away, you’re not quite fast enough. 

Ari studies you for a moment, his piercing blue eyes making your nipples pebble beneath the thin material of your silk robe. It made it hard to remember that you were technically in trouble. Which meant that was was about to happen could technically be construed as a punishment. 

“Then why don’t you be my good little Bird and have a seat, hm?” Your man’s deep voice comes out thick and rough. And while you have a feeling that he wants to make you obey, you know he also wants you to come to him on your own.

“Can the robe stay on, maybe?” You ask, your freshly polished toes digging into the short, plush carpet. “What if I get cold? Or–”

“You won’t.” He softly interjects, widening his jean-covered thighs just a little. Because although you didn’t know this, he’d already made a couple quick adjustments to the thermostat just in case. The last thing your man wanted to do was make you uncomfortable – at least not like that.

And then he holds out his hand for your robe. You stand there glaring at him, the two of you engaged in a silent battle of wills. He wins, of course. But only because you have nothing to throw at him. 

Except for your goddamned robe, which the smug bastard manages to catch midair. 

Ari tosses it to the other side of the couch before returning his attention to you. He’s pleased when you take a tentative step toward him, followed by another. And then another. The next thing you know, you’re slowly easing your nude body onto his lap…

And into his waiting arms. 

Immediately he wraps them around you, drawing you closer to his hard, muscled body. It never fails to make you feel soft and feminine – even when your mind was busy screaming at you that you were anything but. 

Today you felt dumpy, fat, and unattractive. 

But then here was this handsome man, holding onto you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. It was enough to make you start crying all over again. Just like you had this earlier morning.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat as you work to speak.

“I gotta be honest with you, baby.” Ari murmurs after a few minutes, his warm lips skimming over your brow. “I didn’t like what I heard come outta that pretty mouth this morning. Especially didn’t like it when you called yourself a pig.”

“Why?” You choke out a wet laugh. “Would you rather I have compared myself to some other barnyard animal?”

You’re rewarded for your snark with a sharp slap to your left flank, which suddenly has you burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

Oops. Guess that wasn’t the response he was looking for.

“No.” He grunts as you feel his fingers dig into the tender flesh of your thighs. You had no doubt that you’d be sporting a delicious set of fresh bruises on your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Oh.” Whimpering softly, you wrap your arms around his neck as you try to ignore the way his possessive, proprietary touch makes your body flare to life.    

“I wanna know why you felt the need to make the comment at all. Regardless of whether you knew I was listening or not.”

And there was the rub. You hadn’t expected him to come during your meltdown, let alone actually hear you berating yourself to the degree that you had been. Had you known you’d had an audience you would’ve at least had the sense to lock yourself in the bathroom or something, but instead you’d just had to cry your heart out in the middle of your bedroom floor. 

You must’ve looked so pathetic to him in that moment.

“Stop.” Ari commands, the single word spoken like a heated caress against your ear. “Whatever mean thought you’re thinkin’, I’m tellin’ you to knock it off right now.”

“H–how?” Your question comes out muffled thanks to the fact that your face is still hidden in his neck. 

“You have a tendency to tense up whenever you’re being unkind to yourself, sweet girl.” He replies with a shrug before forcing you to pull away from him so that he can look into your eyes. 

“I–I do?” No one had ever thought to share that with you before.

“Yep. Sure do.” He pinches your nipple as his gaze briefly drops to your bare cunt. “As your man, it’s my job to notice these things. Even when all I wanna do is bury my fingers knuckle-deep inside that tight little pussy until you’re drippin' and speaking in tongues, this shit comes first.”

Your hips jerk of their own volition when Ari reaches down to tenderly cup your sensitive core, massaging your damp flesh. Instantly you feel your slick honey coating his palm, making your cheeks heat. 

It didn’t help that you always seemed to end up naked around this man while he stayed fully clothed. In the past you’d only read about that kind of power dynamic. But these days you were beginning to enjoy it. 

“So tell me what has my woman being so hard on herself today? Be honest, now.” He presses as his fingers go trail their way along your belly, an action that has you immediately sucking in your stomach.

“Can we please turn off the lights?” You ask, feeling somehow both shy and stubborn at the same time. “At least some of them?”

“No.” He hisses back, not to be outdone. “You’re too beautiful not to look at, Bird. I might as well be a moth drawn to your flame, that’s how much hope there is for me these days.” 

“But I hate my belly. It’s so…soft.” You tell him, finally willing to admit defeat. “And I pulled all these sweaters out of storage today – from my thinspiration pile – and they fit even worse than they did then when I first bought them.”   

Your Bounty Hunter stares down at you for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Thinspiration?” 

“Yeah.” You hiccup, appreciating when he offers you a sip of his scotch, even when it makes you cough. “It’s like when you buy a shirt or a dress – or in my case a bunch of sweaters – that are too small for you so you can use them as inspiration to…you know…finally drop the weight.”

“Oh, Jesus H. Fucking Christ.” He snarls under his breath before taking a deep pull of his drink. “That’s what all this was about?”

Sheepishly you nod, as if finally realizing just how ridiculous you sounded. But at the time all of it had made perfect sense. “I figured it might help keep me from eating…too much.”

“Sweetheart…” His deep voice rumbles low in his chest as he polishes off what’s left of his scotch. “Fuck those sweaters, fuck the jeans, and whatever the fuck else is in that stupid fucking thinspiration box, or bag, or whatever. I mean it.”

One of Ari’s big hands reaches out to take hold of your chin, making it damn near impossible to look away from him. 

“You and me are gonna get rid of that box.”

“But, Beast –” 

“No.” His grip tightens ever so slightly. “That’s not good for you, baby. It never was. And I don’t ever want to hear you disrespecting yourself like that again. I really don’t. Broke my fucking heart.” Ari leans in to brush his mouth over yours, his free hand taking every advantage to stroke and caress its way along your body. “And it really pissed me the fuck off.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumble as fresh tears spill over onto your cheeks. “I–I’ll try to work on it.”

“These curves of yours are a gift from God, you hear me?” He muses as kisses away a tear. “Or the Devil himself. Depends on who you’re asking I suppose. There’s nothing I love more than watching those hips sway in one of your pretty sundresses, or seeing that luscious ass bounce every time I spank it.”

“You do seem to have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself, Sir.” You respond playfully through a watery grin. 

“Mmhm. The only thing better is when you’re busy holdin’ me hostage.” Ari flips your positions so that he’s on top of you know, effectively pinning you against the couch so that he can grind his denim-covered erection against your damp folds. “Keepin’ me trapped as your love slave while I work my ass off to satisfy that greedy pussy long until we both pass out”

“Hey…” You pout, shivering when he nips at your bottom lip. He tugs it into his mouth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. “I thought you liked the job.” You press your hands against either side of his bearded face, pulling him down for a proper kiss. 

“Oh, I love the job. Gorgeous girl. Great pay, benefits.” He nuzzles a path of hot, wet kisses along the column of your throat, loving how it makes you giggle. “All the pussy I can eat.”

“Wow.” You breathe, torn somewhere between lust and humor. 

“But in all seriousness, Bird, the only thing I ever want is to see you happy. Keeping that box, holding on to whatever the fuck that was supposed be…” You press a finger to his lips, pausing him mid-sentence.   

“I don’t want to just throw them away. I mean, they’ve still got the tags on them and everything. But there is a women’s shelter in the next county. Do you think maybe we could..?”

Ari nods once, giving you a warm smile as he does. Knowing that you’d managed to please him has a fresh wave of slickness coating your already slippery thighs.

“As long as you agree to let me keep you naked and stuffed full of my cock for the rest of the weekend, we can do whatever the fuck you want.” He hitches one of your legs over his shoulder, dragging his tongue along the soft skin of your calf. “And since you seemed to listen so well, I suggest you lay back and relax, because, baby…”

“We both just earned ourselves a treat.”

END

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[baldursgat3]

so like a week ago I saw a post I can't find again about the idea of like an elf Tav who had grown up with Astarion before Cazador

so here's 4.5k words of that

lightly nsfw but the pants stay on (except in my half finished drafts that I gave up on)

A hog ran out of the bushes and you felt a blade against your neck as the man bodied you to the ground. He hovered over you, dagger pressed to your throat as he leaned in close with a soft smile. "Not another sound. Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours." This was the first time you really managed to get a good look at him. Still, it took you a moment to recognize him. He looked so much older than you remembered and his eyes were blood red. "Astarion?" He was clearly not expecting that. His eyes widened in confusion and panic before he pressed the dagger firmer against your neck, the tip drawing a prick of blood. "How in the hells do you know that?" He hissed. "Who are you?

You stumbled along the beach away from the illithid ship. Your head was pounding and you just wanted to lay down but this was not nearly the time or place. You had to get away from the crash site and, preferably, find a few other survivors to watch your back. The cleric you picked up was fine and all, but you didn't entirely trust her. You were certain you'd need more help than that anyway.

Corpses littered the surrounding area, of humans and mind flayers alike. Not much survived the falling, flaming debris. It wasn't hard to make out a voice over the crackling fires.

You jogged towards the voice, quickly spotting it's owner. A slender elf with white curls that were surprisingly neat for surviving the nautiloid wreck. "Quick! I've got one of those brain things cornered."

That voice was… familiar? Still, you couldn't quite place it and it didn't really matter. If you helped him kill the thing, perhaps you could convince him to join you.

You followed where he was pointing, sword in hand. Really, you should've known better. Or perhaps Shadowheart could've been quicker to alert you?

A hog ran out of the bushes and you felt a blade against your neck as the man bodied you to the ground. He hovered over you, dagger pressed to your throat as he leaned in close with a soft smile. "Not another sound. Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours."

This was the first time you really managed to get a good look at him. Still, it took you a moment to recognize him. He looked so much older than you remembered and his eyes were blood red. "Astarion?"

He was clearly not expecting that. His eyes widened in confusion and panic before he pressed the dagger firmer against your neck, the tip drawing a prick of blood. "How in the hells do you know that?" He hissed. "Who are you?

"You- you died…?" It didn't make sense. You saw them bury his body and everything.

His eyes flicked back and forth, studying your face. You wouldn't be upset if he didn't recognize you, but you weren't exactly sure how you would talk your way out of this in that case.

Fortunately, you wouldn't have to find out. You saw the moment it hit him as he jerked his dagger away from your neck, scrambling to get off of you. "It… can't be. Of all the people… you." He laughed bitterly, stowing the dagger.

Honestly, you weren't exactly sure how to respond to this situation. You couldn't even tell if he was happy to see you or not. So you decided to press on the most concerning issue still. "You died. I went to your funeral, Astarion. What… happened to you?"

You were nearly the same age, you'd grown up together in his family's estate. Your parents were hired hands and you served as a live-in friend for their reclusive son. He was only a few months older than you, so why did he look so much older? So much paler, more exhausted than someone your age ought to be.

On top of it he still looked fucking fantastic. Gods you hated how effortlessly beautiful he was.

His gaze darted between you and Shadowheart, anxiously weighing his options. "Ah, yes, well. You know how it goes, surrounded by adoration and opulence. It all gets to be too much, you fake your death, you flee the country. Standard business really."

That definitely wasn't the truth but clearly he wasn't about to share it in front of Shadowheart. It hurt, finding him like this, though. You were so close as children. It had gotten a little harder as you grew up but you always kept in contact. But he let you think he was dead for 200 years anyway? "Right. Of course. Well. Care to join us?"

~*~*~

It's not like you were still in mourning or anything. He had been a good friend for so long, at times even your best friend, but two hundred years was enough time for you to move on.

You had thought about him from time to time. Fondly remembering stories from your past that would turn into a quiet sadness for the life that was taken from him.

They never had an answer for what had happened to him. He had been murdered, you knew that much. No one ever said how or why, though. Magistrate's weren't exactly beloved and his family held a high enough title there was always the vague threat of assassinations but Astarion seemed like such a strange target.

It was compounded by the fact that nothing ever came of it. No one was ever caught, no political move was made on his grieving family. You would think maybe he'd been jumped, but nothing had been taken from him. Honestly, you never expected to get an answer. Certainly not from the dead man himself.

The two of you were sat in his tent, it had been a few days but what a wild few days they were. Tomorrow you would set out to level the goblin camp but tonight you were going to talk.

"I'm sorry." He started. It kind of surprised you, really. You had been learning over the past few days that the man you had once known was all but gone. The Astarion in front of you now was always bitter and irritated with half the things you did.

"Astarion I swear to Kelemvor, it is not naïve to rescue a twelve year old from a crazy lady with a snake for 'no reason.' The reason is rescuing the twelve year old from a snake."

"Where did you go? What happened to you?" The apology was nice but really, you just wanted answers. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He sighed, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. His eyes were fixed on the ground between the two of you and he looked so… sad. "I thought about it, about finding you. At first and, only for a moment."

Well that didn't really clear anything up, all right. You kept quiet though, you were smart enough to know when not to push.

"You want the truth? I was captured. Kidnapped by an evil man who turned me into a monster and forced me to do his bidding. I couldn't have told you. I- I didn't want to get anywhere near you. Not like this." 

A picture was beginning to come into focus. Honestly, there had been enough pieces that you had already begun to wonder. "You're a vampire."

"A spawn, yes." He practically spat the word out, scowling at the ground. "He turned me into his little pet. I was to go out and catch him the most beautiful souls I could find for him to feast on. All the while I was starved and tortured just for his amusement."

"Astarion…"

"I don't want your pity. I mean - I do, sort of but- ugh…" He rolled his eyes, leaning back. "You've made this all extremely complicated."

"Why didn't you ever try to find me? I would've helped, I could've tried to get you out of there."

"I… well I couldn't." He glanced up at you, a sad smile crossing his lips. "You would've tried, certainly. And I would've watched him kill you as punishment I'm sure. No, it's quite all right." He waved a hand dismissively, as a perfect, easy grin spread across his face.

You couldn't exactly argue. It's not like you had any idea what you would've been up against. Still, your blood boiled at the very idea of what he must've gone through in your centuries apart. "Well, you're safe right now, anyway."

His face softened at your words, seeming to relax into the very idea of your protection. "I am, aren't I? How strange." His head cocked to the side, an almost calculating look crossing his face. "Would you… care to stay the night?"

~*~*~

You had always had a sort of off and on crush on Astarion, growing up. When you were very small he had told your parents that the two of you were already married, obviously.

As you got older, you had been sidelined pretty hard as the best friend and you took it with grace. You had plenty of other people who caught your eye and it was nice to always have someone you trusted to be there.

There was that one time that he had drunkenly wept into your arms about being the only person he would ever truly love. It would've meant more had he not just gotten his heart broken hours prior, but it did rekindle an old spark in your heart for a solid year.

The two of you had drifted apart as your social circles moved in opposite directions. You never connected with the upper class, he wouldn't be seen with the rabble. You always kept in touch but, by the time he was murdered captured, you were struggling to keep up with your monthly nights out at the Elfsong.

Right now, though, in this moment? You felt as though you couldn't possibly be closer to another person if you'd wished for it.

Astarion had practically crawled on top of you in his effort to kiss you. One of his hands was tangled in your hair while the other rested firmly against the small of your back. He was colder than you were used to but that wasn't unwelcome. Instead it just sent shivers through your entire body with every touch.

You slowly lowered yourself down to your elbows as he leaned further into you, chasing this kiss like he needed it to survive. The hand in your hair held you firmly against him, not that you had any intention of going anywhere.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, pulling a pitiful little noise out of your throat. He let out a small breath of a laugh as his fingers began to slowly tug your shirt out of your pants. Every move was so delicate and effortless on his part. Gods he was flawless.

He freed your shirt from the prison that was your waistband, pulling back just far enough to whisper a soft "May I?" against your lips.

You couldn't help the grin that spread across your face as you blinked up at him. "Only if you return the favor."

"Gladly." A devilish smile crossed his lips as he pulled back, taking your top with him. A moment later, he had his own pulled over his head and both were recklessly discarded.

One of his hands found it's way to your back again. You couldn't help the way you jumped as his icy fingers made contact with your bare skin. His other hand came up to cup your jaw, ever so gently applying just a bit of pressure. Just enough to encourage you to lay back underneath him as he pressed your lips together again.

You went so easily, he was so gentle and sweet and he tasted like vanilla and ever so slightly like copper. He was intoxicating.

Once he had you on your back, his hands began to wander. They trailed ever so delicately over your chest, lighting a fire inside of you as they went. Your own hands were so much more inexperienced. One helplessly pressed flat against his back, the other unwilling to pull away from his curls for even a moment.

He didn't seem to be bothered by how little you were really helping. His hands continued tenderly mapping your body as his kisses began to trail away from your mouth, along your jawline.

You let out a small gasp as his kiss trailed down to your neck and you felt him pull back, just a bit, just enough to look at you. "Now… it is just a thought… it's just that, well, some people are into biting."

"Are you asking if you can drink my blood?"

"Well, only if the answer is yes."

You gently brushed your hand through his mess of curls as you pondered this. "What would it… do?"

"To you? Not much. A bit of dizziness perhaps, nothing out of the ordinary for some good old fashioned blood loss. But for me? I've been living off rats and wild boar for decades. Just a sip from someone as decadent as yourself could probably give me the power of the sun."

You couldn't help but laugh at the blatant flirting, but damn if it wasn't working. "Maybe a bit exaggerated," he continued "But it would make me feel stronger. I could fight better, think clearer. You don't have to-"

"Go for it."

"Oh. Shit really? I still had a whole monologue about not feeling pressured."

"Getting less sexy by the second, Ancunín."

"Gods, shut up." He rolled his eyes, pressing his lips back to yours as you giggled.

You could feel his anticipation now, though. He kissed you just long enough to push you back into the right headspace before his attention turned back to your neck.

He lingered there longer than you expected, tenderly covering you with his kisses. Then, without warning, he pulled back and his gentle lips were replaced by an acute sting as his fangs sunk into one of your veins.

It was a unique feeling, you could say that. You'd been stabbed before but this was different. It was cold. Like the first snow of winter, dark and freezing but glittering like crystals in the moonlight. You heard yourself gasp and felt your body arch up into him as your head tipped back for him.

You could've easily lost yourself in the feeling, just basking in this closeness you had with someone who was so dear to you. You had just enough awareness to feel the dizzy, light headed bliss start to tip towards darkness.

Your grip on his hair tightened, gently trying to tug him back before he got carried away. "Astarion…"

He only let out a gentle moan before seeming to catch himself, quickly pulling away with a small gasp. "Gods…" he wiped away the small trickle of your blood that had escaped his lips, licking it from his fingers as you stared up at him, slack jawed.

"I couldn't have wished for a finer vintage." He crooned as he ducked his head back down to clean the blood from your neck.

Gods, he had your heart about bursting out of your chest. His hands started to wander again as his mouth continued it's assault on your neck. Every touch was so careful and perfect, each one sending sparks flying through you.

He cupped one hand around your neck, gently applying a bit of pressure to stop the bleeding as his mouth moved back to yours. "You're gorgeous, you know? I've always thought so."

You were obsessed already. He was intoxicating, the way his touch felt against your skin, the way his honey sweet words pierced your heart. There was an old version of you that had dreamed of just having him like this.

Here you were, pampered and loved by a man you had adored for so long. Gods, you really never thought you would ever see him again, let alone have his hand down your pants like this. In this moment, the world was nearly perfect. The only thing that mattered to you now was making this boy yours.

~*~*~

You woke up in the morning, a bit sore, a bit disoriented, and very alone. It took a moment to remember why you were in a strange tent. Another moment for you to realize Astarion was gone. You couldn't help the disappointment that bloomed in your chest at that thought. You couldn't blame him, exactly. It's not like the two of you were a thing. Still, it would've been nice to wake up beside him.

You sighed softly, quietly getting dressed in the still morning chill. It felt like early morning, the golden light filtering into the tent and lack of noise from your companions clued you in. Maybe Astarion had run off to feed before the rest of the camp woke up. Maybe he'd hoped to be back before you had gotten up?

No such luck. You pushed open the tent flap to find your vampire quietly staring at the dim embers of your campfire. You had to bite back another sigh as you stepped forward, apparently making enough noise to draw his attention.

His neck whipped around, though he relaxed instantly once he located the source of the sound he'd heard. "You're up early." He said, quietly, turning back to the fire.

"I could say the same."

"I'm always the first one awake." You could hear the eye roll in his voice.

You stepped forward, moving to sit beside him with a small, awkward smile. "And you just had to get away from me?" Don't freak him out, play it cool. You weren't disappointed at all.

He didn't seem to find it funny, though. He just drew his knees up closer to his chest. "I told you. You made things… complicated."

That was weird. Honestly, you had no idea what he meant. "I'm sorry?"

"Not your fault." His voice was flat and unreadable. He'd really changed so much since you last saw him. It made sense but that didn't stop it from hurting.

You missed the man you used to know. Snarky and a bit full of himself. But also shy and awkward and comforting. You recognized many of his old mannerisms but they'd changed. He was bitter, focused on how to protect himself above all else. It made him violent and trigger happy in a way you weren't used to. Quite frankly, it was a little scary sometimes, the amount of joy he took in violence.

"Can I help?" It was all you had really. You couldn't change what had happened to him. All you could do now was try to help.

"Can you help? Sure. If you could just… go back in time, stop yourself from finding me after the nautiloid and let me carry on my merry way, presumably to be murdered by the first person I annoy too much."

"Okay, well, I'm not sure I can do that." You couldn't read him, no matter how hard you tried. "Did I… do something wrong?"

"No, gods, no." He curled up tighter. He looked so… vulnerable. He never did vulnerable. Especially not now. "You're perfect. That's the problem. You made it complicated."

"Astarion, I don't understand."

He sighed, finally turning his head to throw you a small, tired look. "I know. Hells…" You could see the confliction writing itself across his face. "I want to tell you something but you have to swear that you won't hate me for it, I mean it. It's not good, but you cannot hate me."

"I've never hated you, Star." Maybe the nickname was a bad idea. You practically saw it stab him directly through the chest, forcing him to turn away for a moment to collect himself.

He couldn't look you in the eye again, he just stared off to the distance in any other direction. "I know. I mean it though, promise me, please."

"All right." What could he possibly tell you that was worse than 'I spent two hundred years forced to kidnap people to be killed by my master.' "I promise. I won't hate you, no matter what."

You saw him relax a bit, his shoulders loosening. He turned back, just enough to glance at you out of the corner of his eye. "I… Last night, that- it…" It was so rare that he struggled to find his words.

He took another breath, trying to collect himself before turning back to the fire. "I was just… using you. I wish I could say I didn't mean to but- gods, I did. I pushed it that way on purpose. Its all… part of the plan, you know? Seduce you, sleep with you, secure my safety and position in the group with you. It was… easy."

Oh. Well that wasn't exactly great to hear. He was still trying to collect himself, find the right words. You didn't want to interrupt and, honestly, you didn't really know what to say.

"I didn't think about it, I just… did it. Like I had to. I needed to. And by the time my head caught up it was too late. You were already into it, I couldn't just stop."

"What?"

"I mean," He continued quickly, seemingly trying to get ahead of your presumed anger. "It's not like it wasn't good, it's not like I don't… care about you. It's just, it was an instinct. I think."

"Astarion-"

"Please, you have to understand-"

"No, no, stop. Hold on." You saw the panic in his eyes as you interrupted. "Astarion did you not… want to do that?"

The look he gave you was, honestly, almost a little pitiful. "Like I said, you've made this complicated. I don't know. I don't know what I want."

You turned your attention away from him, towards the dying fire in front of you, pausing for a moment to collect your thoughts. "I wish you hadn't done that to yourself." He was right. This was complicated.

He wasn't the same person you had grown up with. Whatever had been done to him had clearly changed him fundamentally as a person.

But, still, you couldn't look at him without seeing your old friend. It was still the same laugh you had known. Still the same smile. You saw it, when you agreed to help the tieflings, the way he cocked his hip out and rolled his eyes. His little mannerisms that still lingered after all this time. He might not be the same man you had known, but you loved him anyway.

"I don't know what happened to you," you continued before he could get defensive. "I don't know what made you feel like you had to go to such extremes just to win affections you've had since we were children."

You saw some kind of spark in his eyes. It was so difficult to read him now, you wanted to get better at that. "I'm… sorry." He sounded so unsure. Honestly, you didn't care for it, he was always so confident. Now, though, he just looked… sad, maybe?

"You don't have to apologize. Astarion," You carefully reached a hand out to cover one of his. "The first thing you did when you saw me was put a dagger to my throat, and I still would've tossed Shadowheart into the ocean if you'd asked me to."

That pulled a startled laugh out of him that you briefly worried might've woken up your companions. Gods you really would do just about anything to see him smile. "You would not have. You're too much of a goody two shoes."

"Maybe." You grinned, giving his hand the smallest squeeze. "Still. I'm just sorry you felt like you had to go that far for my affection."

"I'm not the man you used to know, I'm not blind. I don't know who he was anymore. Up till now, I think I'd forgotten my own parents' faces. But you look at me like you expect me to be him and I don't know how. I can't be what you expect, at least if I could keep your bed warm you'd have reason to keep me around."

"Astarion…" Your hand tightened around his as you scooted just a bit closer. "I was sitting in the Elfsong, a long time ago. At 'our' table, you know? I was waiting for you to meet me and I grabbed a day old copy of the Gazette to read while I waited.

"I didn't even notice at first. There was a headline for one of the articles, 'Magistrate Murdered', but I didn't notice until I got closer to it. I saw your name and it was like the roof caved in over me. I was sitting there, waiting for you to show up, and a shitty, ale stained piece of parchment told me you never would."

You looked up at him with a sad smile before continuing quickly, trying to stay ahead of the guilt you were sure was creeping up in him. "I cried for months over you. And for years after when something reminded me too much of you. Star, neither of us are the same person we left behind, it's been two hundred years. I've been through plenty, and you've been through hell. That's not what matters though."

He looked so small right now. He was nervous and upset and vulnerable. You hated it, you didn't want him to be so anxious with you, gods you wanted him to trust you. "What matters is right now. We're here together. That's so much more than I ever could've dreamed just a month ago. You don't have to earn my trust and love again. And you certain don't have to force yourself to have sex with me to do it. I never stopped loving you, Astarion."

He was still for a moment, his eyes flicking over your face, scanning you for ill intent. You watched him cycle through a dozen emotions as he processed what you were saying. Then, almost like a switch flipped, he just melted.

With a choked out sob, he collapsed into you. You wrapped your arms around him as he curled into a ball, practically in your lap. His whole body shook as he quietly cried into your chest. You really did hate seeing him cry but you could feel the tension lifting from his shoulders as you held him tight.

You let a silent prayer fly to whichever god was keeping your friends asleep through this, asking them to keep up the good work. The last thing he needed right now was everyone else seeing him like this, you knew how much he wanted to keep up appearances.

Ever so gently, you lifted a hand to card your fingers through his curls. He curled up just a bit tighter, leaned into you just a bit more. It had been so, so long since the two of you had been this close. You really, truly never wanted it to end.

Eventually, though, he pulled back with an awkward laugh and a hasty scrub of his face. He didn't go far, just enough to sit back and look at you. "Gods… well. That was sexy."

You rolled your eyes, throwing him a soft grin. "You're ridiculous, Star. Come on, everyone'll be up soon. Big day, you know? Let's go kill some fucking goblins."

[imaginemalereader]

Anonymous request: Imagine Reid noticing you having a panic attack at a crime scene.

Working for the BAU required a strong constitution to be sure. The things you witnessed, both the victims and the killers themselves, would take a toll on anyone.

You'd gotten pretty good at handling a lot of it. Some of it was just exposure over time and what that didn't cover you had little coping mechanisms you could use as needed. Very little rattled you these days.

There didn't seem to be anything all that special about the latest case. Serial killer in Pennsylvania, torturing his victims before killing them. While of course every case was unique, there wasn't anything in Penelope's brief that stood out to you denoting this one would be a particularly memorable case.

Ready with your go-bag, you and the team hopped on the jet for a short flight up to the area. On the flight it was decided that you, Reid, Prentiss, and Morgan would go to the crime scene while the others got set up at the station and began talking with the victims' family members.

You got the scene, ready to see what the pictures had shown you before.

As you all arrived, you each took to a slightly different aspect of the scene. You went ahead and went straight for the body first. The local police had already photographed and collected evidence so the body was covered. You lifted the sheet and began looking for all the details that the camera couldn't capture.

You couldn't quite place the feeling in the pit of your stomach as you studied the victim, turning over the details Penelope had told you all about the victim on the flight over. Connecting those details to the man lying in front of you along with the knowledge of what had happened leading up to their arrival here.

Normally, such things didn't phase you. But today, something about all of it - the victim, the torture, the disposal of the body - it just clicked with you in the worst way possible.

What had started as a pit in your stomach grew and you tried to act casual as you covered the victim once again and stepped away, pretending to study the surrounding area. Your back turned to the others as you felt your heartbeat picking up. You clenched your fists, trying to still the shaking in your hands. The fact that you felt out of control and unused to the situation only added to the discomfort and fear you felt. Not only was something about this case causing you extreme distress, but you really didn't want the team to see. You'd worked hard to prove yourself and you didn't want them seeing you losing control like this.

Your breathing was shaky as you tried to take quiet fast breaths, unable to breath deep and slow the way that with a clearer mind you knew would help. It seemed to be successful, at least at not drawing attention to you even if it did nothing to ease your panic.

"[Y/N]?" Spencer's voice came from behind you. "Are you okay? You've been quiet. Normally you share all your observations out loud." He said.

"I'm fine." Your quiet, shaky voice betrayed you. You didn't want to draw the attention of the others, it was bad enough Reid had noticed you weren't acting normal right now.

Spencer came up next to you. He noticed easily your tightened fists and the rapid, shallow rise and fall of your chest.

"Hey, [Y/N], can you try and take a deep breath, nice and slow?" He said gently.

You shook your head, unsure of everything right now.

"I think you're having a panic attack. I know it seems really hard, but you will feel better if you can just breathe a little slower." He said.

You focused on your breathing, managing to at least slow it some, still faster than normal but now it wasn't quite as fast as the pounding of your chest.

"That sounds a little better." He said encouragingly. "Does it feel a little better?"

You held up your hand, with a little space between your thumb and index finger indicating that it was helping.

"Good, that's really good. Close your eyes for a second and just think about your breathing. If it helps, you can try counting. Inhale for four seconds."

He counted aloud and you managed to time your breathing to his counting.

"Now hold it for four."

Again he counted. Eyes closed, his voice was the only thing you heard and you held your breath.

"Exhale now."

He counted out four again and you slowly released your breath. The pounding of your heart had slowed some and it was easier now to steady your breaths.

"Thanks." You said.

"Of course."

"I don't know what happened. I've done this so many times, I don't know what set it off but it just came on and I couldn't breathe and it just felt so bad and I don't know why." Your words rushed out.

"Sometimes there's not a reason for panic attacks, they can just come on. Maybe something about this subconsciously reminded you of something that set it off."

You sighed, the tension leaving your shoulders as they dropped.

"I feel stupid. I've always handled this fine before."

"You're not stupid." Reid assured you quickly. "Panic attacks don't make a person stupid. You know, Nikola Tesla likely suffered from panic attacks and he was a brilliant inventor. Not to mention that studies show that around 3% of adults have a panic disorder but 11% of people may experience a panic attack."

You managed a small laugh at the fact Reid had those statistics ready off the top of his head. Listening to him explain it, reassuring you in the most classic Reid way, you found your heart rate slowing down again and your hands stopped shaking.

"That, that actually does help. Do you, um, do you think you could not tell the others about this?"

"Sure. But, you know, you can ask for help if you need it. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I appreciate that Reid. I see why they gave you a PhD."

Reid smiled at that. It had been hard, seeing you struggle and being unsure if his advice would actually be helpful. But, he was glad it did and that you trusted him with this.

"So," you said, "back to the case?"

"Back to the case." He agreed, and the two of you turned back to the body and the rest of your team.

[1-800-cr33py]

BREATHE

’’ Let’s try that again hm? “ Brian’s voice was low, teasing. You almost wanted to whine, to cry out in desperation.

But you couldn’t. Despite every fiber of your being telling you to as your lover’s hand crept back up the column of your throat. His hand was calloused, yet his fingers traced the muscle with a care only he could provide you. His hazel eyes studied your face, checking for any signs of discomfort, distress, anything; his eyes held a sadistic glint to them, he was enjoying this.

The power he had over you at this moment was absolutely exhilarating.

Brian laughed at the sight below him, in all honesty it was both pathetic and endearing. You, below him, watching him like he was God himself, like he hung the very stars for you and you only. This was how he liked you; pliant and obedient. Brian drug his thumb across your jaw, tracing shapes as he reveled in your breathless whines and squirming for any kind of friction to alleviate the burning ache between your legs. The sight of you brought a delighted groan from the man; doe-eyes watery from the previous edging he’d inflicted. Brian could almost feel sorry for you.

But he didn’t.

Because this was all your idea.

You trembled as you felt Brian’s free-hand slowly find its way down your body, squeezing at your curves every so often before finding purchase between your shaking thighs. Practically keening as your hips jerked upward to meet his palm, which brought a sharp ‘tsk’ from your lover. The hand around your throat tightened, cutting off the sweet air you’d be gasping for. Mouth agape, eyes already rolling into your skull as Brian plunged his fingers into your weeping core, wetness dripping down you thighs and onto the sheets below. Brian’s eyes never left your face as your hips jerked, hands wrapped around his wrists as you begged. Your sweet voice bouncing off the dark walls.

“ Sweet baby, always trying to please me hm? Yeah, I know, feels so good. “ Brian rasped, curling his fingers, effectively drawing a squeal from your kiss-swollen lips. You face flushed. Though the moment was short-lived, your eyes bulged as your lover withdrew his fingers.

“ Poor babydoll. You never said you wanted to cum tonight. “

Author’s Comments: Heyo! Mod 800 here, 888 is busy tonight so this is really really rushed as smut isn’t my forte so I do thoroughly apologize. I don’t really like this so if it seems edited later on it was most likely 888 (god bless her I love her sm)

[hvnnibalecter]

ICECREAM AND SPRINKLES. | A.H

CHARACTERS : Dad!Aaron Hotchner, Stella Hotchner [OC].

RATING : FLUFF.

A/N : English isn't my first language, so it is possible that there is some grammatical errors along the way. divider is from @cafekitsune, icon is from @catsadams No use of Y/N.

summary : having a daughter waiting for you, is always a good reason to come home and Aaron Hotchner won't disagree with it.

Aaron Hotchner was not someone who smiled easily, the agents of the Behavioral Analysis Unit rarely saw a smile on the lips of the Unit Chief who wore his Armani suits like a second skin. But yet, when he passed through the doors of his house, he seemed to become different, removing his suit - his second skin - and he seemed to become another man.

The strict unit chief became a father again, a loving and caring father. He saw so many horrors during his work, he remained calm while his eyes observed mutilated bodies and each time he worked on a child kidnapping case, he could not stop thinking about his daughter, the love of his life.

Coming home from work, Aaron took off his suit to put on a gray sweatshirt, jeans and a pair of comfortable sneakers, he glanced at his garden where his daughter had taken care to place strange little colored elves in it, arguing that they were protecting their house.

Looking around, Aaron walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator where he found a sandwich he had prepared the day before, he also noticed that his daughter must have eaten the rest of the cheese. Aaron had hired a nanny, a perfectly adorable young woman who juggled babysitting with law studies, Aaron had found that the young woman was decent and she always took care that everything was tidy and cleaned. Busy removing the aluminum around his sandwich, he did not realize the presence of his daughter when she let out a joyful cry and threw herself into his arms. Aaron barely had time to put his sandwich down.

He lifted the little girl in his arms, black hair, chocolate eyes, Stella Hotchner looked almost like two peas in a pod to her father. Aaron placed a kiss in her hair, took his sandwich again and went to the coffee table, he settled on the sofa and put Stella next to him, the little girl dropped dramatically onto his knees. Aaron shook his head smiling, she definitely spent too much time with Dave. Aaron bit into his sandwich as he turned on the television, he would finish his report tonight when Stella will be in bed.

"Daddy?" his daughter asked, suddenly raising her head.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Aaron replied, sliding a hand into her hair.

"You're going to stay home, right daddy?"Stella asked, staring at her father.

Aaron blinked, he felt a lump in his throat. Of course, Aaron always took the time to call his daughter -Dave, being his normal-spoiling self, had gotten her a phone in case of emergencies-, but it was always different especially when he saw Stella's sad look who seemed never to want to hang up. Every day, whether he was at the office or in another city investigating a sordid case, Stella sent him pictures - flowers, animals, drawings - and it made the unit chief smile, remembering that he had a reason to go home.

"Of course," he smiled, putting down his sandwich wrapper and lifting her up to settle her against him.

"Can we go get some ice cream?" Stella asked, frowning. "With confetti!"

Aaron rolled his eyes, Stella only seemed to agree to eat ice cream if it was abundantly sprinkled with colorful confetti. He hugged her and closed his eyes.

"With confetti," he murmured against her hair. "anything for you darling."

[cursedkeyboard]

Babies shouldn't grow up ☆ Jason Todd & GN!Reader (PT.3)

What does Jason do after feeding and giving a home to the brat he stole from the slums of Gotham? Raise the kid lovingly like he wished he'd been raised, of course. [PART ONE ♤ PART TWO ♤ PART THREE ♤ PART FOUR ♤ PART FIVE ♤ PART SIX]

Pairings: Platonic Jason Todd & Child GN!Reader

In the beginning, living together wasn't very smooth

Despite your shared pasts, the immediate fondness from Jason, your eagerness for affection and love, you two were still very much strangers

You were hesitant and skittish, often sticking to the guest room Jason said it was yours, since for your entire life you mostly lived by yourself

Jason didn't actually know how to deal with a vulnerable and traumatized child, he wasn't Dick, he didn't have an innate charm that allowed you to be drawn to him easily

But that didn't stop him from trying

Every day, Jason made sure to get you out of your room to eat

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner

Eating was non-negotiable, even if you were used to only a bite or two a day, he wanted you to eat what you could

You felt sick for the first few days, your body unused to so much water and nutrients, causing it to think something was wrong

Jason almost went insane with worry, rubbing your back, carrying you around, and even refusing to go out when you told him you were fine

From your vomiting, you were anything but

Despite his fear and anxiety, Jason sat down to google all your symptoms and treatments when you finally fell asleep after throwing up again

Pushing the multiple deadly diseases and cancers aside, he learned that your body was just a little overwhelmed and all you two had to do was increase your meals little by little instead of shoving food down your throat

Though he still insisted on you drinking at least five cups of water every day

Then, maybe a week or two later once you two were a little more comfortable around each other

You not feeling like a bother anymore and Jason not eating himself with anxiety

The two of you started spend more time together

Jason cut some of his vigilante work, told Bruce to fuck off when he was questioned, and made sure to take you out to buy a year's worth of clothing using the old man's credit card

You started clinging a bit to him, asking him to teach you how to read and write, seeking validation when you managed to understand a whole page without needing help, asking about his life and past

And Jason always made sure to be honest with you, about the good and the bad because he wanted you to trust him

From experience, he knew that keeping things from you would only cause problems down the line

He'd tell you about his days in the slums while preparing a meal, you at his hip helping him put things in the pot

He'd talk about being a Robin with both fondness and bitterness while he helped with your hair, having done so much research to make sure he treated your type of hair correctly

He'd confess about what happened with the Joker, keeping it slightly less gory than it was

About his mother and Batman

About his death, hell, the pit, the after

He'd tell you everything as the days went on

And you'd sit by his side, cuddling with him, hugging him close when his voice trembled

Jason's hold would often tighten around you when he talked about something that made him sick to his stomach

Especially when it was a story about almost losing someone

Like he thought you'd disappear even in his arms

Like that, the trust between the two of you only grew as weeks turned into months and soon enough those months turned into a year

Jason had returned to his normal patrol hours once you were finally caught up with your studies and managed to put you in middle school

You were so damn excited and Jason knew exactly why

For a kid who was deprived of seemingly boring things since forever, school is a place filled with knowledge and wonder

The very first thing you did when you got home was show him a drawing of your hero the art teacher asked your class to make

Jason cried when he saw a poorly sketched version of Red Hood

He put it up in the fridge after printing it twice

You two definitely started matching, by the way

Jackets, shirts, shorts, hats, even phone cases

Jason never thought he'd be so lame as to buy stuff like that but once the two of you wore the exact same ugly christmas sweater, it was over for him

It was a little embarrassing, especially for you

But when you two went out with the same jackets and an elderly couple complimented the father and kiddo duo, you couldn't help but love it too

It was jarring for Jason, for sure

He didn't really consider himself your father, maybe your guardian or your older brother, but... it wasn't too bad

No, in fact, he kind of liked it

You are his kid

God, the restaurant dates

He'd take you to every food place in Gotham

From the ones that made you two throw up for the entire weekend

To the ones that made Bruce call him after spending eight hundred dollars on golden lobsters

It would be no surprise if you ended up liking burgers the most though

Like kid, like father

If you had any problem in school, Jason wouldn't try to hide away

He got himself a fake identity for the sole purpose of making himself your guardian through more than illegal terms

Doesn't even matter if he was in the middle of a meeting with other rogues, heroes or even his family

Jason would drop everything for you

Especially when you punched the fuck out of little Timmy for saying something bigoted

The dean and the teacher would probably try to make him scold you, telling the two of to you that this violent behavior is unacceptable and should not be rewarded

And Jason would look at them, at little Timmy's infuriated mother, and tell them that if Timmy didn't want to get his shit rocked, he should've kept his mouth shut

Of course, he also threatened them saying he'd let all of Gotham know that they protected and encouraged bigoted behavior from ten year olds

Needless to say, little Timmy didn't bother you after that day

And you also got ice cream after getting a two day suspension

"Did he make a noise?"

"Squealed like a fucking pig."

"That's my fucking kid."

Jason wouldn't let you act spoiled

Sure, he'd spoil you rotten, give you everything he wanted as a kid and what you want

But he knows the important of humility

That doesn't mean he'll let anyone ever try to bully you, though

To be continued...

[brairslair]

FEEL BETTER? ˗ˏˋ P.B.P ´ˎ˗

“all you have to do is ask”

confident!peter parker x shy!gf!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.0k

REQUESTED: no requests are open! fandoms: marvel, stranger things, harry potter (any era), scream

WARNINGS: fem reader, shit writing, established relationship, peter and reader are implied to be in college/uni, SMUT (18+), very little plot tbh, heavy praise kink, softdom!peter vibes, fingering (f!rec), very light nipple play, SUPER slight dacryphilia if u squint, peter is talkative, not proofread and written instead of sleeping, lmk if i missed smth!

A/N: is it 8am? yeah. did i just spend the last two hours writing this mess? also yeah. enjoy!

ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE 18+ remember to like, comment, and reblog to support my writing!

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Six hours. That’s how long it’s been since you showed up at Peter’s front door. Six hours spent right next to him, talking to him, touching him, and yet you still find yourself longing for more. Even now as you sit between his legs, back to his chest, his hands kindly twisting at your hair, your thoughts have you squirming in your seat.

The two of you had set up this study date a few days back, anticipating the opportunity to spend time together (without sacrificing your grades). Unfortunately, you were having a hard time focusing on schoolwork.

No matter how much you tried to focus on your paper, you couldn’t stop your mind, and your eyes, from wandering. You caught yourself staring at how pretty his hands looked as he hurriedly wrote down equations, admiring how cute he looked sitting crisscross in his plaid pajama pants and science pun t-shirt, how his voice sounded just slightly deeper when he was concentrating, or how soft his lips look right now. You actually thought you were going to lose it when the praise “Good job, babe. This looks perfect!” fell casually from his lips while reading your completed assignment, sealing it with a kiss to your temple.

You felt like you were going insane, but the thing is, so was Peter. You hadn’t seen each other for nearly three weeks prior to this study date, outside of passing in the halls or a quick call before bed. Between you trying to prepare for a major presentation coming up and Peter’s multitude of responsibilities, neither of you had much energy, let alone time, left to spend on anything else.

Of course, you love everything about Peter, unconditionally. That includes his web-slinging alter ego. However, it can get a little frustrating having to go weeks on end without being able to hold a conversation with him. Especially when all people talk about is the amazing spider-man, listening to girls fawn over your boyfriend for hours a day, and feeling just as fangirl-ish. You found yourself daydreaming about him to pass the time, acting like a schoolgirl with a hopeless crush.

Seeing him again after so long with so little contact is like a wake up call for your senses. You'd been so buried in your studies that you didn’t even realize just how much you missed him until you knocked on his front door.

- “Are you okay?”

Your thoughts dissolve as Peter draws your attention back to the present. When you snap back to reality, you’re immediately reminded of what caused the spiral of daydreams to begin with. You can feel the warmth of his body behind yours, the contour of his toned chest pressing against your back. You feel your whole body heat up.

“Mhm, I’m great!” you squeak out, internally wincing at the shakiness in your voice. Your usually bright and vibrant tone is completely gone, replaced with something resembling more of a whisper than anything else.

Safe to say, Peter isn’t buying it.

His best guess is that you’re upset about something that happened today. Maybe stressed about the presentation you have coming up. He knows it sometimes takes you a while to open up, so for now, he decides to let it go. In an attempt to settle your mind, he slides a hand down your arm to lace his fingers through yours.

Unfortunately, it does the exact opposite. The innocent action leaves a trail of goosebumps behind and makes your breathing pattern pick up ever so slightly. You can only hope that Peter doesn't notice.

He does.

“Are you cold?”

You shake your head, taking deep breaths to steady yourself. “No, I’m alright.” Loosely translated, means I actually feel like I’m burning from the inside out.

“Do you not like the movie? We can change it if you want to watch something else.” he offers sweetly, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. “You’ve been all spacey for the past half an hour.”

Your breath hitches, feeling like you’ve been caught red handed. Of course he would notice. He may be a little oblivious sometimes, but when it comes down to it, Peter knows you better than you know yourself.

“The movie’s fine.” You struggle a bit to formulate a response, feeling your whole body heat up like a furnace. To evade the silence, you stutter out a weak, “I was just… thinking?”

You immediately want to light yourself on fire, deciding the silence would have been better.

“Thinking about what?” he asks. Not prying, just curious. “Must be something pretty important. Your heart is beating a mile a minute.” He softly laughs at his own words, causing you to shrink into yourself. He’s not laughing at you, but it definitely feels that way.

You fidget with Peter’s fingers in your palm, eyes locking on the movie as nerves wrack through your body. “It’s nothing.” You speak so quietly, he’s thankful for his enhanced hearing.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” you can practically hear the concerned furrow in his brow as he brings your still interlaced hands to his lips, leaving feather-light kisses to each knuckle. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

His patient and caring nature never fails to make you fall more and more in love with him, if that’s even possible.

Then, as if you weren’t enough of a mess, what really does it is when Peter leaves the faintest kiss to the base of your neck. A gesture meant to signal patience and understanding towards your “anxiety” only causes your thighs to squeeze together against your will, and before you can think enough to stop it, an airy, barely audible whine escapes the back of your throat, so soft it could pass as a sigh to the average ear.

Nothing about Peter is average.

He stills against your skin, causing your eyes snap open in horror as the realization hits you. Manicured hands immediately cover your face to shield you from the embarrassment.

They don’t stay long as Peter wastes no time in reaching up to gently pry your hands away. You feel like you could burst into tears at any moment from the sheer shame and frustration.

“Hey, hey-”, he holds both hands gently, rubbing sweet circles to soothe you, “No need to be embarrassed. You can talk to me.”

You don’t move your gaze from your lap.

“Come on, beautiful. Look at me.” He asks so gently that you comply before you can even think otherwise. His eyes are soft and kind, looking at you with all the love in the world. He makes you feel safe.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about? Hm?”

You blink up at him owlishly, feeling like there would be a question mark floating over your head if you looked up.

“That’s why you were all spacey? You were thinking about me…” he leans his head down, lips grazing your collarbone, “kissing you?”

Your breath catches.

"Or, maybe..." your eyes are glued as he moves his hand from your hold, delicately trailing it down your stomach, past your hip, and slowly down to the inside of your thigh. So close to where you’ve needed him for the past three weeks. “-you were thinking about me touching you?”

Your heart rate picks up by a tenfold, and Peter can hear it hammering in your chest.

Waiting for a response, he’s met with nothing but your heavy breathing. He carefully digs his fingertips into the doughy flesh of your thigh. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch you?”

Another airy whimper tumbles from your lips, reluctantly nodding in response to his questions, needing him too badly to care about the shame you feel at your neediness.

Peter smiles, rewarding your response by trailing his sweet kisses up your neck, taking his time to feel you shiver under his touch. His warm lips finally reach the shell of your ear.

“All you have to do is ask.”

He resumes his attack on your neck, now bolder in his movements as he licks and bites and sucks at your skin, trying to find the spot that makes your eyes flutter shut.

Caught up in the feeling of his warm mouth against your skin, you don’t even notice as he hooks your ankles over his, slowly spreading your legs wider and wider, until your skirt rides up your legs.

Peter smiles against your skin when a shaky sigh reaches his ears, your hips bucking up in sync. He’s found it. Peter focuses all of his attention on that spot, nipping and sucking at it until you’re sure he’s going to leave a mark. The hand on your thigh squeezes gently every time you move your hips, and you have to chew on your lip to stop the mortifyingly desperate sounds from spilling out.

“Is this what you had in mind, baby?” the words rumble against your skin, sending a chill down your spine, “Is this what you needed?”

Your hips buck again at that, pouting with the hope that he takes the hint. You feel your body melt into him when his tongue darts out to soothe the fresh mark he’s left on your neck.

Of course, he does get the hint, but there’s no way he’s letting you off the hook that easily.

He inches his hand higher and higher up your thigh, slipping underneath the pretty little skirt he had bought for you as a gift a few months ago. You tense in anticipation.

“What is it?” amusement evident in his tone as he asks you. He loves that he gets to be the one that makes you this needy. “Come on, baby. Tell me.”

You almost sob in frustration, not wanting to say it out loud, but the ache between your legs is becoming unbearable.

His hand barely brushes against your panties, making your chest tighten as you suppress the urge to grind into it.

“Tell me what you need me to do.”

You can’t handle it any longer.

“Please!” You all-but shout, free hand grabbing at his arm, “Please touch me, Pete!” You cry out, already sounding wrecked and he hadn’t even really done anything yet.

Peter beams at how vocal he had gotten you, leaning his head further down to meet your lips for the first time since you got here all those hours ago. It felt like drinking water after being stranded in a desert for days. You missed the way his lips felt. The way they tasted. You crave more.

Then, he mutters two words against your lips that manage to make your hazy brain short circuit.

“Good girl.”

Your groans are pathetic, being swallowed by Peter’s tongue as he rocks his palm against you through your pretty pink panties.

He can’t help but laugh a little, giddy at the sounds spilling out of you at even the lightest touch of his hand.

“Is that better?” he asks, breaking away for air. “This what you've been daydreamin' about?” He already knows what you really want, he always does, but he wants to hear you say it one more time. Just one more confirmation and he’ll give you anything you need.

Now that your mind is so clouded with pleasure, you don’t give it a second thought. “More-” you can’t barely get out a sentence between mewls, “Please, Peter, I need more-”

Before you can say another word, he’s pushing your underwear aside. Your head falls limp against Peter’s shoulder as he gathers your slick, dragging it up to finally circle your puffy clit.

Without his mouth to drown them out, your moans flow freely from you, drowning out the long-forgotten movie playing in the distance. Peter goes back to kissing your neck, deciding to mark every area of your skin that he can reach.

“I’m sorry, baby.” he soothes, nipping at the skin right under your jaw, his own heartbeat jumping at every noise he pulls from you, “Bet you’ve been achey all day, huh?”

You nod your head, barely registering his words as pleasure rolls through your body.

He lets out an almost mocking “Aww, honey…” as you buck your hips against his fingers, “Been so patient for me, huh? Waiting all day for me to make you feel good?”

“Mhm” mixed with your pants, words tumble from your mouth without a single thought to how eager you sound, “Feels so- ohhh… sososo good-”

All you can think about is the way Peters rough fingertips feel absolutely euphoric as he swirls and flicks at your clit, and how his lips sear every inch of your skin, and how his scent and his warmth consumes and takes over every thought floating around in your blissed-out head.

“You sound so pretty-” he peppers hot kisses across your shoulder, “Making so many pretty sounds…”

Peter bends his legs a little, which in turn, bends yours. The move spreads you out just a little bit more, but its enough to send little shockwaves of pleasure through you, making you jolt and gasp at the feeling.

Peter loves the way you look when you get like this. Skin sticky with heat, eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open in bliss. He thinks you looks like a goddess.

Your moans start to sound more and more like a plea, hips grinding against Peter’s fingers subconsciously as you feel the heat slowly taking over. You need more.

“Peter, pleaseee-“

“Shh, It’s okay.” his fingers glide down to your entrance, coating themselves with slick, “I’ve got you, pretty girl.”

Your eyes practically roll into your skull as he slips two fingers inside of you with ease. The stretch feels incredible, and you can’t help but squeeze the hand that's still holding yours, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Oh my god-“

Peter kisses back up until he reaches your lips again, grinning as you can barely reciprocate. The gentle nature of his kiss makes your head spin and your core clench around his fingers.

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

You feel your lashes begin to collect tears at the overwhelming feeling pulsing through you. This has been building up for weeks.

“Always so good for me.”

Achey little noises spill from your lips onto Peter’s, breathing labored and heaving as the only thought filling your head is Peter Peter Peter.

Then suddenly your mind goes completely blank, gasping back a choked moan as your body goes limp, jaw slacking against Peter’s deep kisses. Your whole body feels like it's buzzing with electricity, and your head feels static in the most amazing way.

Peter pulls back for a moment to watch your face scrunch up in ecstasy, as he rubs against your spot over and over and over again. “There she is.” he coos, admittedly a little proud of himself, and you’re too fucked out to pick up on the mocking tone. He watches in awe as you start to fall apart.

“Takin’ my fingers so well, baby.”

You start to clench tighter around him, using your free hand to grip his wrist like a vice. Peter goes back to kissing your open mouth, sucking and nipping at your bottom lip as you pulse and twitch under his touch.

Panting turns back into whimpers which turns into tears as Peter massages your walls just right, hitting all the right places and stretching you out sooo perfectly.

You can feel pressure building up rapidly in your stomach, back arching up as your body starts to shake from the intensity. Peter shifts so he can watch the way your hips chase his fingers and your chest heaves for air.

“You’re so close, sweetheart. You can do it.” he praises, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge, “Almost there-“

The knot keeps winding tighter and tighter, and whiny begs and pleads start to pour out of you. Lots of “Oh my god, Pete“ or “Please” and “So good-“

Hand over yours, Peter glides your intertwined hands up your body and over your arched ribcage. He slides your hands under your his t-shirt, using his thumb to push your smaller one back and forth over your peak, a long chant of mumbled Peter’s tumble from your kiss-bitten lips.

“I know, baby, I know.” he consoles you, copying the pouty tone of your voice, “Just feels too good, huh?”

You nod your head frantically, still not catching onto the the tease, only caring about chasing your release.

He presses his lips to your ear, “Waited so long for this, honey. You deserve to feel good.”

He pumps his fingers a little bit faster.

“Gonna make you feel so good-“

You start to grind your hips up again, gasping when his palm rubs against your clit with each thrust.

“Pete-” the knot is getting tighter, “Oh my god, Peter- I’m…“ and tighter, “I’m gonna-”

“Let go for me, babe.”

Thats all you needed for your vision to go white hot, mouth falling open with a silent scream as stars dance behind your eyelids.

“There ya go”

“Just like that, pretty girl”

“Let it all out, baby”

He peppers kisses on your burning skin and slows his movements as he works you through your high. As you come down from it, your body goes limp on top of him, a lazy smile stretching on your lips. Peter can’t help but smile too, chest swelling in satisfaction that he was the one who put that smile on your face.

You wince a little as he slowly pulls his fingers from your core, eyes following as he brings them up to his lips to clean them off.

“Feel better?” this time you can definitely hear the cockiness in his tone, smacking him weakly on the arm. “Shut up.”

You turn around just enough to kiss him. This time, it’s slow, and careful, and loving, and you have to pull away and bury your face in his chest to hide the lovesick look in your eyes. Both of you burst out giggling, and Peter can't stop himself from wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you as close as possible. He’s missed you more than you could possibly ever know.

As relaxation coats you like a warm, fuzzy blanket, you shift your weight to get comfortable.

“Ah, don’t-“

Peter squeezes his eyes shut, hissing at the sudden pressure and gripping your hips to keep you still. “Can't do that...”

Now it’s his turn to get flustered.

His face goes beet red as you jump up in confusion. When you look down, you notice a painful looking bulge in his jeans. Your stomach twists with the knowledge that you did that to him.

You weren’t the only one who’s been touch deprived.

“Oh! Sorry…” you giggle a little at the accidental stimulation, looking back up at Peter with a playful smile of your own. “Your turn!”

______________________________________________________________

part 2??

[particular-one]

is this falling?

pairing. dan heng x reader synopsis. you (try to) do dan heng’s eyeliner. it fails miserably but also succeeds wonderfully. author’s note. guess who decided to write instead of studying for their last final. also this was prompted because i remembered that i probably have to rely on my very poor eyeliner skills again when i cosplay stelle. sigh.

"are you sure i don't look like a clown yet?"

you rolled your eyes, trying to get your hand that was holding his eyeliner steady. your brows must have been furrowed as you tried so hard to concentrate that prompted that quip from dan heng, who was laying below you as you attempted to recreate his signature look.

which … you were failing in, by the way! you were no good with makeup, that you wondered how long your boyfriend had practiced to perfect his eyes every single time. “nope, nope. i got this, just relax.”

“sure, love. i’ll relax just as you gauge my eyes out with that eye pencil.” you scoffed, before holding his shoulder down in an attempt to steady yourself. you didn’t even know why dan heng asked you to do his eyeliner for him — given the fact that he could do it flawlessly, there was no reason to ask you, his partner who could barely draw a straight line with a ruler, to do it.

still, you were determined to finish it. you wanted dan heng to see that you could meet his expectations and put his eye makeup on him! but now, look where ambition and pure ego got you. “hey, that’s not supposed to go on the ey—”

“oh hush now, i’m the artist right now, m’kay?”

you couldn’t tell if dan heng let out a low chuckle or a groan, but nevertheless, you were now in the zone. you leaned in closer, with your line of vision now laser focused on his eyes. you hadn’t realized just how enchanting they were, but now that you were getting a dangerously up-close view of them, you were reminded of just why you fell in love with him in the first place.

well … ignoring the fact that there was a stray line of red eyeliner on his brow, but still. you could feel your cheeks starting to get flushed, when a sudden beeping noise came from your phone. you jumped and reached over for it, but dan heng seemed to have the same idea and went to sit up for easier accessibility …

your lips met as you collided against each other on accident, to which you yelped in surprise and backed away almost immediately. did you just …. oh, you could feel your entire body get heated all over and you opened your mouth to say something in return but it was cut off when you found yourself kissing him again. kisses with him never got old; it always sent you over the moon, like it was the very first night you shared your first kiss. you felt so floaty and light inside, as you found yourself melting in place.

moments after the both of you pulled away, you straightened your shirt and cleared your throat. the both of you were suddenly awfully quiet, as dan heng hadn’t spoken since that exchange you had. you had figured he had this all planned, but dan heng looked even bashful right now that a chuckle escaped you. he simply groaned, his cheeks now getting flushed. oh, you loved this man very much.

“you know if you wanted to kiss me so bad, you didn’t need to invite me over to do your eyeliner.”

“oh, shut up now.”

written by carlyle (@particular-one) copyright: all content belongs to particular-one on tumblr (2023)

[800milesisadrive]

Meet Cute

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at playing around with AI co-authoring, with maybe 75% either being my own work or a heavy rewrite of the suggestions. It's a very crude and ugly little bit smut, but felt good enough to share it. Any stories I do share in the future that use AI for more than editing and brainstorming will be noted as such!

Sarah was so deeply focused on her homework, she didn't notice the man sitting across from her until he started talking.

"You know, girls as cute as you shouldn't need to study so hard," his voice cracked as he wheezed out the words.

Sarah could feel her whole body tense up. This guy had been bugging her all week, pestering her with inane chatter about anime and hentai. She just wanted to be left alone. She looked up at him, glaring at the overweight and unbathed lump sitting at seat on the other side of the table. Her almond eyes narrowing into slits, barely able to keep herself from screaming at him.

"I suggest you focus on your own life, buddy," she snapped back, her tone sharper than a knife.

The weeb recoiled slightly, but only for a pause. After a moment of stuttering, he seemed to regain his undeserved confidence. With a slightly unhinged smile, he launched into another speech about some obscure anime series.

"Like in Duko-Duko Magica?" he continued, completely ignoring Sarah's protest. "The One-Chan; doesn't have to worry about school, her master just puts a replica of her in class so no one suspects she's off having adventures!"

His tone was that of a father trying to explain a storybook to a toddler. This man wasn't talking to Sarah, but down to her. Even without his hunched posture, Sarah suspected she'd still be taller than this dork.

Was he wearing the same, sweat-stained anime t-shirt from yesterday, when he first tried to corner her in the library? Sarah was nearly sure of it, but wouldn't put it past this loser to have multiple outfits that were plastered with girls making faces with their tongues out...

"It's an 'Ahegao' pattern," the man said leaning forward. Sarah had unexpectedly zoned out, staring at him. " Though you know that already, being Japanese! It's actually the 'Mind-Break Ahegao' edition," he continued pointing at his chest. "Limited drop!"

Sarah felt lightheaded and frustrated. She couldn't believe how persistent and presumptive this guy was. While her family was from Japan, she'd never been herself and had never watched anime.

"Listen, I don't want to talk about this anymore," Sarah finally said, her voice trembling with impatience. "Can you just leave me alone?"

The man's face contorted into a mask of disbelief. "But we're having such a fun conversation!" he whined.

Sarah was done with this loser and his racist shit. She started to collect her things, packing them up to escape this annoying prick.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed the man shifting in his chair, looking around nervously. His nerves coming back.

"It's not supposed to take this long..." he muttered to himself. "'Instant changes' is what the site said..."

Sarah paused, confused and oddly concerned by his change in demeanor. She hated this guy from the moment she set eyes on him, yet now she felt some irrational empathy.

He seemed like a pathetic loner, desperate for human connection that he would cling onto anything within reach. That desperation reminded her of her own loneliness, amplified by being a minority in an overwhelmingly white campus.

As he mumbled under his breath, she found herself glancing at his shirt again. The lewd drawings were unsettling, especially since they appeared to be moving - pulsing faintly with each heartbeat. Suddenly, a wave of vertigo washed over her. She struggled to sit upright, feeling dizzy and disoriented. Was it the late hour? Or perhaps something in the air?

Maybe it was too close to the radiator and there was something wrong with the heating system, because she suddenly felt incredibly warm and light-headed. Her hands, which moments ago held tightly onto her books, loosened their grip. She stared blankly at the book covers sprawled before her on the table. In that hazy state, she realized that they depicted scenes from Japanese folklore, images that once alien to her were now strangely familiar. It was like she remembered childhood memories of hearing these stories told by her grandmother during bedtime.

Sarah closed her eyes with surprise at the vivid imagery she saw in her mind.

"Hey, are you ok?" The man leaned toward her, concern etched into his previously obnoxious expression. "Maybe you should get some rest."

"No, I'm fine," Sarah assured him, opening her eyes wide. "Just tired, I guess."

The man nodded sympathetically. "You've been working too hard. Exchange students have it the toughest."

"I'm not..." Sarah began to protest and stopped herself. She wasn't an exchange student, was she?

Sarah thought to herself, her grip tightening around her textbooks. But then why do I feel this strange sense of familiarity? She wondered if she had simply forgotten her heritage due to spending her entire life in America. Maybe her mother spoke tales of Japanese myths during her childhood, stories that somehow lodged themselves deep enough inside her brain to surface now.

"Are you sure you're doing alright?" He asked, peering at her intently. Sarah was taken aback by her sudden attraction to his soft brown eyes. They were full of genuine concern, a stark contrast to his previous arrogant attitude.

For a brief moment, Sarah considered sharing her confusion with him. Yet, she hesitated, fearing that he might exploit her vulnerability. Instead, she simply replied, "Yeah, I'm good. Just need to take a break." She stood up abruptly, hoping to end the conversation. However, as she did, a sharp pain coursed through her legs, causing her to stumble. Mark caught her quickly, his firm grip steadying her. Sarah blinked, surprised by his unexpected gentleness.

"Maybe you should sit down. You look exhausted," he suggested softly.

Sarah looked up at him. Just a few moments ago she'd assumed he was about her height but now he towered over her, looking almost manly in spite of his flabby shape.

Something was happening to her. Sarah didn't fully understand it, but if felt like gravity itself had shifted. The whole world seemed a bit taller, and this man's touch felt like a life preserver she needed to cling to.

"This is... This is all wrong." Sarah breathed out, trying to keep from fainting.

A hungry smirk crawled over the man's face, once that filled Sarah with strong revulsion. She yanked herself back.

"What... what are you doing to me?" she stumbled, catching herself on the table. Sarah felt a strange sensation in her head, this was beyond exhaustion. Sarah managed to ask, her voice trembling.

Mark maintained a deceptively calm composure, though beneath his outwardly collected exterior, he felt ecstatic. He had finally found someone who understood his passion for anime and accepted him.

"Nothing much," Mark responded nonchalantly. "Just trying to help you relax, that's all." "Relax?" Sarah scoffed incredulously.

" Relax? What kind of sick game are you playing with me?"

His face fell, his eyes widening innocently. "Sick game? No way, Sarah. You know me, I'm Mark. We bonded over our love for anime..."

"Oh yeah?" Sarah retorted sarcastically. "And what makes you think I'd enjoy something so... so ridiculous?"

Mark faltered for a moment, looking hurt. "Well, you seem pretty stressed out..." Mark trailed off quietly, swallowing the last of his words.

Anger boiled up inside Sarah, threatening to overwhelm her resolve. "Stressed?" she spat, unable to contain her fury. "How dare you insinuate that you can read my mind? That you can even begin to comprehend my feelings?"

Her voice shook with anger, and she took a step backward, away from him. Mark's gaze followed her every movement, his eyes flickering between sadness and determination.

"I-I'm serious..." she couldn't focus on his face. As much as she wanted to scream, looking at him seemed to diffuse the anger. She didn't want to hurt him, she wanted him to be happy. It was her place to make him happy... "You're just becoming more _you_" he comforted her, and Sarah couldn't help but nod in agreement. This tall, sweet man was just trying to help a confused exchange student. How could she ever have been so rude to him?

Sarah felt ashamed and guilty, wishing she could turn back time and apologize. Instead, she stood frozen on the spot, her heart pounding against her chest. "Mark, please forgive me," she whispered, her voice cracking in despair. "I didn't mean to lash out at you. I'm just scared and confused right now..."

Mark gazed at her with tender compassion, silently acknowledging her apology. "Don't worry about it, Sarah," he reassured her gently. "I understand that you're going through a lot right now..." Mark spoke in a soothing voice, reaching out to lightly touch

Sarah's arm. Sarah felt a shockwave of pleasure ripple through her body. "But I promise you, everything will be okay. We'll find a way to make things better."

Sarah swallowed hard, her throat parched and dry. "I just don't... I don't feel like myself anymore," she confessed, her voice breaking. "I feel like I'm losing control. My thoughts are jumbled, and I can't remember..." Sarah said weakly, feeling increasingly vulnerable.

"You're just remembering who you truly are, deep down," Mark murmured, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her arm. "You're not just a diligent student, Sari-chan."

Sarah tried to resist, but his gentle touch felt too inviting. "What are you talking about?" she whispered hoarsely. "I'm Sarah. I-I don't know you at all. You're doing something to me. You drugged me or something..."

Sarah winced thinking of what he said. "Sari-chan", the nickname feeling alien and foreign on her tongue. Still, she couldn't deny the strange sense of comfort it brought her. It made her want to lean closer to Mark, basking in his warmth and safety.

"Let's just sit here for a moment, shall we?" Mark coaxed, leading Sarah to sit with him on the cold stone floor. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, offering her a comforting embrace.

"Mark-san." Sarah said, her voice seeming oddly light and girly. "What did you do to me?"

Mark's arm wrapped around her, slyly cupping her breast as he comforted her.

"You're just remembering who you truly are, deep down," he murmured, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her arm.

Sarah gasped, her body jolting involuntarily. "What are you doing?" she cried out, instinctively attempting to push his hand away.

"Shh, Sari-chan," Mark hushed her, tightening his grasp around her waist. "There's nothing to be afraid of." Mark whispered into Sarah's ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down her spine. "I'm only trying to help you. To bring back your true self."

"My true self?" Sarah repeated, feeling a strange mixture of apprehension and excitement welling up inside her. "Who am I really, Mark?"

With a soft chuckle, Mark pulled Sarah closer, pressing her body against his. "You're Sari-Chan. You're the beautiful Japanese girl who's too in love with me to ever say anything." Mark said, his voice sounding confident and dominant.

Sarah felt a surge of arousal course through her veins. The idea of being a submissive Asian woman enthralled her. She'd spent years suppressing her true desires—the longing for a powerful, protective man to guide her every move. Now, it was like the floodgates had opened, uncovering buried fantasies she'd never allowed herself to explore.

"Why...? Why you want girl like Sari-chan?" Sarah asked, her voice quivering uncontrollably. "Mark-san is big and handsome American..."

Sarah's own brain betrayed her, her memories of home being replaced with fuzzy memories of cherry blossoms and Japanese villages. Images that weren't hers but now seemed to be part of her deepest self swam in her mind.

"Sari-chan, you're ready to show yourself to everyone, aren't you?" Mark whispered seductively, his hot breath tickling Sarah's neck.

"Oh yes, Mark-san," Sarah whimpered, feeling an odd sense of liberation. "I'm ready to be yours forever."

Mark smiled triumphantly, stroking Sarah's silky hair. "That's my girl," he murmured approvingly.

"I knew you could do it. I could see it in your eyes."

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#6: Cuz I'm Okay Too (S4E16)

Such a heartfelt and important moment in the making of Richonne. 🥹 The scene is brief but still manages to communicate something so important about Rick and Michonne's profound connection. That You're Okay/I'm Okay interconnectedness between them is one of those deep and consistent qualities that make Richonne one of a kind. By this season 4 moment, I really and truly believe Rick and Michonne had fallen in love and I cherish that this beautiful scene is a part of their love story. The scene is a true Richonne classic...

Richonne's love story has so much life to it because it was able to breathe as it evolved each season. And as much as the world was screaming at them - when it came to Rick and Michonne's pre-canon build-up there were these small quiet moments like the one in this s4 finale that still really helped to lay their foundation steadily and naturally.

I appreciate that Richonne's journey was a slow burn (the most fiery slow burn, might I add 🔥) and that we got to see their love story play out from the moment they first laid eyes on each other all the way to now as a husband and wife determined to find each other again. The build-up was as great as the payoff in the making of Richonne and this season 4 pre-canon moment between them is one of the foundational staples in building their relationship.

As I’ve stated before, I consider this 4.16 ep quite monumental to Richonne as I feel its by this point these two have fallen in love. And this scene just really backs that up to me and gives us our first insight into the unique interconnection they have.

The reason why I so confidently refer to these two characters as soulmates is because absolutely every time Rick and Michonne were together it was clear they had a deep mind-body-soul connection and a magnetic draw that showed they were tethered to each other and meant to be.

They were so kismet that even in the beginning of their relationship they seemed to be strongly emotionally connected to each other.

In the early stages of their growing bond, Rick and Michonne really would often look at each other like they were both something special and inexplicably familiar, like a missing piece of themselves that they yearned for and felt innate trust and safety with. And, to me, this scene illustrates all of that.

I also noticed that since I've gotten so used to seeing team family in the 'stability' of ASZ for half the series, whenever I see scenes of them in these earlier seasons where they had no home base it makes me a little emotional because it makes you realize just how little they had, and how much they were being held together by their resilience and their family alone. It's really a testament to their strength and the family they built that fueled them to keep going.

I love the way this 4.16 scene is shot, the fall vibes are just nice with all the leaves as they walk. Also the show did a good job of always making it feel like there was some added weight to when Rick and Michonne were around each other. The two together on screen are just always electric as this scene solidifies.

(Side note: watching this show back, I love how quiet the ambiance was in the earlier seasons, it really made the world feel immersive and lived in.) 

When Rick protectively sat outside of that car in the previous scene with Carl asleep in Michonne's lap, Michonne heard Rick talk to Daryl about who he is and why he’s here, and her expression as she listens was telling. I know R&M both were more aware of how much they mean to each other from here on out. And then that love only grows stronger, even as soon as their next scene.

So this #6 scene starts with Rick walking ahead, and I love how Michonne is looking at him as she walks closer to him. I’d love to know exactly what she’s thinking at this moment cuz she clearly has some thoughts. 😊

As she studies him in this scene I really do feel like it’s her seeing the resilient man he is and feeling a lot of genuine love and respect for him. Especially after seeing Rick go to an incredibly intense place to save her, Carl, and Daryl the night before.

Rick went to lengths not many would even think to go...but that level of fight in him is one Michonne knows well. It's in her too. And I think at this moment she knows truly that they are cut from the same cloth.

She silently observes him and, before she even speaks, Rick senses her and asks if she’s okay. I love that he checks in on her after what they went through.

When Rick and Michonne found each other after the prison fell, they became a package deal and went through most things side by side from then on. And I love that through all the wild things they experienced together, they had each other to check in with and make sure they were okay because they got to be fully human with each other. 

Michonne nods and says a reassuring 'yeah' and then again has those little glances at him that, to me, suggest sis has caught feelings. 

Then I always love that Rick proceeds to offer up that he’s okay. He initiates saying that because he wants her to know this and he knows this would matter to her. Ever since reuniting after the prison, Michonne has often brought up the importance of Rick healing and resting, so he knows she cares about his wellbeing and that he’s okay. 

And it’s also like by offering up, "I'm okay" he wants her to know he’s still okay as a person even after showing that he’s capable of some pretty intense stuff. I’ve always loved this, especially because as a woman traveling alone with men, it means a lot to have a man want you to know he’s still okay and safe to be around.

But then what is so lovely about this scene is that Rick gets to see that he doesn’t need to do any convincing with Michonne because she has always seen and understood him on a deeper level.

(It makes me think of when Michonne talks with Merle during season 3 inside the prison. She defends Rick and Carl and notes that they're both killers but she doesn't say it as a condemning thing because even as strangers she understood that Rick and Carl are still good people despite what they've had to do to survive)

And as much as Rick is grappling with all that he’s capable of here at the end of season 4, it’s so refreshing that Michonne is right there to let him know he’s not a monster to her. So when he says he’s okay, she says without any doubt, "I know." 😊

Then I so love that Rick asks, "How?" It’s an interesting thing to ask because he could have just left it at her saying she knows, but I love that he’s curious to know this. Almost as if deep down wanting to know that she really does see and understand him as clearly as he sees and understands her.

And when he can’t help but ask, I adore the way she looks at him and so effortlessly tells him, “Cuz I’m okay too.” 🥹

Another classic line in Richonne's journey. 🥰 And a line that is as powerful as it is pretty.

I know I've said a lot of their scenes are giving romantic but this one is 1000% giving romantic. I mean this dialogue between them could be seamlessly inserted into a romance movie and I'd be like...

And it is just such a sweet sentiment - "Cuz I'm okay too." Similar to Rick's "Must've been something else then," line, I'd love to know exactly what Michonne was aware of regarding her attraction and feelings for Rick at this time.

It’s significant for Michonne to vocalize this and let Rick know that she has developed enough feelings for him that his well-being impacts her own. He’s okay, so she’s okay. And we see that 'you're okay then I'm okay' thing that they have play out in so many moments between them in this series.

One that comes to mind is an honorable mention scene in s5 at Alexandria when Michonne can’t sleep, and then we see that Rick has also been up and unable to sleep.  It’s almost like Rick's restlessness played a part in what was affecting Michonne's ability to rest.

And Rick even vocalizes as much when he asked why they're both awake before touching her shoulder and her reacting in a way that further proves their magnets. Something innate within them is so often on the same wavelength, even when they have some different outlooks.

I love these TWD reactors who noted how Rick’s mind silently racing was still so loud to Michonne and keeping her up in that s5 scene, whereas if Rick would sleep she probably would be able to fall asleep too.

Rick and Michonne are just one like that and they have always been so emotionally intertwined. They don't just understand what the other is going through, they feel what the other is going through. #TetheredSoulmates

So I love and appreciate this s4 finale scene for fully establishing Rick and Michonne's unique and heartfelt interconnection - both that they have it, and that they deep down know they have it too.

Rick nods after Michonne says this, and this subtle moment just feels like he gets what she means. She doesn’t even have to explain further cuz I think he knows he feels the same - You're okay, I'm okay.

And then the way Michonne is looking at that man at the end of this scene...Cupid got her, y’all. Just like Cupid got Rick lol. 😊

Richonne really was inevitable because right here in s4, seasons before their canon ep, these two loved each other and had at least some awareness that the connection between them runs deep. 

Am I smiling from ear to ear rewatching this? Best believe. They just go together and it’s so clear here. And I love looking at this scene and knowing this is a husband and wife in the making who will bring a beautiful baby into this world. Won't He do it! 🙌🏾 It's scenes like these that confirm to me why Richonne’s pre-canon and post-canon moments are both top-notch.

As Michonne will tell Carl in a beautiful bonding moment later in the s4 finale, she knows the Grimes boys brought her back. They helped make her okay again. And the way Michonne brought so much good to Rick and Carl's lives, she brought them back too.

So I’ll forever love that in this quiet scene between Michonne and Rick, we see so clearly how they help make each other feel more than okay. 😌

[i-used-to-wear-the-fedora]

Harringroveson Bones and All

For @now-showing-at-the-hawk-events Day 7 (and technically 9) Romance Movie/Horror Movie, Bones and All (2022)

Billy Hargrove always knew he was different from most people. His father never let him forget it. There was something *wrong* with him. Something he couldn't control. Billy was nine when he realized why his father looked at him like he was a monster.

It was a boy on his little league team. Joey Sandavol. They were walking home together when the other boy fell on the sidewalk and scraped his knee. Billy could smell the blood before he saw it. He watched the boy wince as he brought his leg up to his chest with a pained groan. That's when he felt it. An overwhelming hunger. Billy couldn't stop himself, his body lunging at the other boy as he buried his teeth in Joey's leg. He screamed, but Billy didn't care as he ripped into flesh and pulled. Blood was everywhere as things began to blur.

When he came to again, Billy was home. He sat on the couch in the living room as he heard his parents arguing in the kitchen. Looking down, Billy saw he was still covered in blood.

"-Neil, please, it's not his fault. He didn't know better!"

"Know better? Damn it, Cheryl, he almost killed that kid!" The sound of a fist hitting the wall made Billy instinctively jump. "God fucking damnit, if I'd known what you were, I would've never married you."

The fight devolved into screaming as Billy retreated into the bathroom and locked himself in, crying as he tried to wash the blood away. He was confused more than anything, but his mother disappeared into the night before he could ask any questions. He tried asking Neil questions about that day but stopped after the man backhanded him, telling him never to mention it again. For seven years, Billy was a normal boy again despite the constant hunger he felt. Then he met Duncan Wilson.

Duncan was funny. He always found a way to make Billy laugh, even on the bad days. When he asked to come over for a "study session," Billy was more than happy to agree. His father left with Susan for night which meant they had the house to themselves. Duncan made it easy to forget about his shitty dad and his shitty new wife as they kissed each other on Billy's mattress. The blonde's eyes were closed as the boy on top of him pressed closer to him when it hit him. The smell. God, the smell. A hunger stirred in Billy, and he felt it. The same feeling from years ago overwhelmed him as the kissing stopped when Billy bit into the other boy's lip.

Duncan screamed. The bite was hard enough to draw blood, only inciting the hunger more as things began to blur together. He remembered all of the blood. His teeth were tearing into flesh as the hunger was satiated for the first time in years. The bliss was overwhelming until he was snapped out of the trance by a new voice screaming at him. Billy's eyes focused again to see the bloody mess of viscera left on the floor. Looking up, he saw Max standing in the doorway. She was the one screaming. He'd completely forgotten about her.

It was a struggle, but Billy managed to stop himself from attacking his stepsister. Instead, he jumped out a window and began to run. Away from his family. His home. Himself.

That was almost a year ago, and Billy was still running. State to state, town to town, he ran away from everything. At eighteen years old, Billy had no goals except for making sure that his father couldn't find him. Billy knew if Neil Hargrove found him again, he would kill him. For his part, Billy thought he was doing a pretty good job of running, considering he was now in the middle of Bumfuck, Indiana. It was a small dive bar called "The Hideout." He was dressed in black skinny jeans and a loose fitting tank top. Easy bait for some creep to start hitting on him. The guy would ask to go to his car. And like that, Billy would get a meal and a ride to wherever the hell came next.

"Hey." A voice called out as they took a seat next to Billy at the bar top. "You're new here." The blonde turned, ready to up the charm when it hit him. The stranger didn't smell like everyone else. Billy blinked as he looked the man over. He seemed to be around the same age as the teen. The man's long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, showing off a band t-shirt that read Corroded Coffin. "The name's Eddie." He stuck a hand out. Billy was hesitant to take it.

"You're....like me." Was all that could come out.

"Sure am." Eddie grinned as he put the hand down. "Let me guess, you've never met anyone else like you."

"...ugh, yeah." Billy watched as an excited look crossed Eddie's face.

"That's fine. Just means you have a lot to learn." Eddie turned his barstool around to point at the dance floor. Specifically, another boy. He was dancing with an older balding man who looked almost completely wasted. "That's Steve. We come here to hunt every couple of weeks. Easy prey. We bring them back to his place for easy cleanup. Saves us having to move around all the time. Maybe you'd be interested." Eddie said as he leaned closer to Billy. "You look tired. We can help make things a lot easier for you, stranger." Billy made a face, thinking for a moment before speaking

"Billy."

"Hm?"

"My name's Billy."

"Well, Billy, how'd you like a free dinner?" Eddie asked as Billy's stomach growled, almost on cue. That...sounded nice...

[dissociation-station123]

TojiXreader one shot-mature

Smut and angst all mixed into one

A constant shrill ringing in your ears was the only thing allowing you to cling to consciousness. Your mind was no longer full of the constant anxiety of day to day life. Only the sensations of pain and pleasure blending into an addictive cocktail.

“You're doing so well for me…” a gruff voice groaned into your ear. “Just… hah.. a bit longer” you tried to cling on to the muscular figure in front of you but you felt too weak. Your overworked muscles felt like jelly.

You moan as his hands wrap around your throat once again. “Fuck I love that face…” His voice was raspy and breathless. You feel his figure tense and deep guttural grunts escape his lips. You whimper as you feel him release deep inside of you.

“Shhh…” You are pulled up gently into his arms as he moves your hair from your face. “Your ok sweetheart.” You nuzzle into his neck as he rubs your back. “No no…” He hums into your ear, “Look at me.”

Suddenly he is cradling your head. You feel his lips leaving quick kisses along your face. “Come on…” You lift your heavy eyelids with a sigh until you meet his piercing green gaze. “There she is…”

“Toji…” You mumble finding your voice. A smirk forms on his face, the thin scar on his lips draws your gaze. His lips are on yours taking away what little breath you had. “Mmm.” You get drawn in again, enjoying his fingers tugging at your hair.

“I can’t…” you mumble after his tongue probes your mouth greedily. “Please…” a soft whine of protest causes a deep chuckle from his chest.

“It’s ok princess.” Toji soothes you as you finally begin to come back to your senses. “I’m going to run a bath.” He lays you back onto the bed but as he tugs away you grip his wrist. “I promise I’m not leavin ya right now…” He whispers and you reluctantly let go. “Good girl.”

You watch his broad back exit your bedroom door as your brain starts formulating thoughts again. You let that man back in. Back into your home and your heart. A few compliments and a shitty excuse was all it took. He was the only one who could make you lose yourself. Lose all control and damn it it was exhilarating.

Your mind curses you as you recall the events that led to you now trying to find the strength to move. “How are you doing princess?” His raspy voice interrupts you scolding yourself. You look up into those beautiful green eyes and frown.

Toji ignores your expression, helping you sit up so you can drink a glass of water. You slowly sip as he lifts the glass. “You seein anybody?” Toji randomly asks and you choke. As you cough you glare up at him and he wears that same smug expression.

“No…” you practically growl and that grin falls just a bit.

“You really should.” He says as if chastising you. That familiar feeling of disappointment and anger returns as if in cue. Before you could curse him he lifts you up into his arms. You decide to stay silent as he takes you to the bathroom and sets you into your tub.

You feel his eyes studying you but you refuse to look at him. “Aww Y/N don’t be like that.” His low chuckle echoes against the tile. The sound was both haunting and angelic to your ears.

When you still refuse to meet his eyes, you hear him click his teeth. From the corner of your vision you see him lean over and grab the clean washcloth he had prepared. “Toji… Do you just enjoy hurting me?” You managed to ask and hear him sigh.

This time he is speechless as he runs the cloth along your tired body. You close your eyes distracted by the warm water cascading down your skin. The silence did not bother you but you could feel the tension between you now. After he washes you clean from the mix of sweat and his own essence he stands.

“I’m going to smoke real quick…” You hear him mutter and you shrug. He loves putting distance between you after ruining you. Toji Fushiguro was a menace and a pest. You know you need to exterminate him from your life. Why was it so difficult?

After a while you groan as your muscles begin to ache. You manage to push yourself up and step out of the tub. Grabbing the towel he left out you begin drying yourself off. Seeing the marks he always leaves makes your stomach flip. You walk to your mirror and look at your reflection.

“I’m so tired…” you say as you see the dark circles. Your fingers run along the bruise starting to form around your neck. These will outlast the time you spend together… Another reminder of your constant mistake.

The bathroom door swings open and your drug stands behind you. His large arms wrap around your waist as your gazes meet in the glass. “I was broken before I met you, Toji. You just remind me that the world is cruel. I use you to punish myself I think…”

Both of you have twisted expressions. “You remind me that there is good out there. I always fuck this up because I don’t deserve it.” Toji whispers into your ear and then lays a small kiss on your neck.

“How cliche…” you mutter and laugh. You hear him laugh as well. Then you both burst out into chuckles. It was not out of happiness. It was one of those gut wrenching reflexes where if you don’t laugh then you would both cry.

“Will I see you in the morning?” You ask a bit coldly. Toji doesn’t respond right away. Instead he roughly pulls your head back and kisses you passionately. Your tongues are both fighting for dominance then he bites your lower lip.

“You want me to tell you a lie?” He asks and you roll your eyes. You push him away and walk out, hearing him follow closely behind. “Come on Y/N let’s keep pretending I’m a good guy just for tonight huh?”

You turn quickly on your heel with a sinister smile. You grab his chin tightly, his eyes widen in surprise. “There is no such thing as a good guy, Toji.” Your voice is stern and his expression shifts to match your amusement. “Now pour me a glass of whiskey.” He nods and you release his face. Moving into the dining room you sit at the island and watch him prepare you a drink.

“How is work?” He asks as if he really cared. You scoff and he flashes his teeth. “Humour me…” He pleads and you take in a breath.

“Ooo it’s wonderful. I always imagined sitting in a cubicle all day. My work really matters, you know.” Your voice oozed sarcasm. This time Toji rolled his pretty eyes in your direction as he slid over your glass. “How is the business of murdering people?”

Toji grins, “Fucking hell Y/N…” He laughs watching as you take a long sip. “It’s great being a dog I guess. Havin to attack when ordered. The best!” He matches your tone and you find yourself smirking.

“I’m surprised your master let you off the leash for a bit.” You add and he shrugs. You finish the liquor too quickly and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “I’ll have to send him a thank you card.”

“You bitch…” Toji growls but you could tell he was enjoying the banter. His expression was soft. “He knew I needed to fuck something. I was getting a bit unruly.”

“Lucky me…” you mumble and before you could blink he had lifted you up, placed you on the counter top, and spread your legs to ease between them.

“You fucking love that I always come slinkin back to you.” His voice lowers as he pushes his forehead against yours.

“Maybe…” you say as your breaths mingled together. Your eyes traveled lower and you could see he was ready to take you again. “Your fucking insatiable Toji…” You moan as his hands grip your large thighs.

“You love that too.” He says and you could not deny him that fact. No matter how much you hated him when he disappeared. The moment he returned your heart always leapt out of your chest in excitement. “You should have never walked into that bar.”

“Well I always tend to have the worst luck…” you whisper and both of you smile. “Now do whatever you want…”

He did not need any more coaxing. Your head fell back as he shoved himself deep inside of you. Your legs shook in protest but he held you steady as he began thrusting aggressively. Both your words were now animalistic groans and heavy breathing.

The thoughts of how you ended up here easily fading back to mindless pleasure as he grabs your neck yanking you forward for a sloppy kiss. “If you let anyone see you like this…” His eyes were now wild. “I’ll fucking kill them…”

You never knew if when he spoke was the truth. Especially when he was balls deep in your soaking cunt. You moan loudly at the possessive streak that has now overcome him. You're a fool… some part of my subconscious spoke up but when he squeezed taking away my oxygen it faded away.

Being unlucky was not always the worst…

[stolitzsings]

A Moment in the Sun

[This is my first attempt at helluva boss fic, so please enjoy a soft, short little thing about sunlight, rest, and trying something new <3 it was inspired by this beautiful artwork, and my constant need for soft stolitz]

“Man, I didn’t know sunlight could feel this good,” Blitz said, leaning back on his hands and turning his face upward. 

Stolas shielded his face with one hand and looked at him affectionately. The light was almost blinding to his eyes, so well-suited to studying more distant stars. 

“Darling, you're up here every week,” he said.

Blitz waved this away, eyes closed as he enjoyed the warmth of the living world's sun. “Yeah, but I'm always trying to kill someone. Kinda hard to smell the roses when some asshole is trying to shoot your dick off.”

Stolas smiled. “I suppose that's true.” Blitz did look more relaxed than he'd seen in a long time. The discomfort of the searing sunlight was a small price to pay for that. 

He smoothed out a corner of the blanket they were sitting on and looked around at the earthly greenery around them. He'd been lucky to find this secluded little spot, a grassy hill that rose high enough above the surrounding trees to afford them a beautiful view of the sky. He’d brought Via here a few times to stargaze, and he was happy to share it with Blitz now.

He turned back towards Blitz to find him halfway through stripping off his shirt. Color rose immediately in his cheeks as he watched the movement of Blitz’s back muscles under his skin. 

Blitz noticed him looking. “Don't get any ideas, birdbrain. I'm not getting grass stains on my ass for you.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, letting the sun warm his back. He really was lovely in the sunlight–the dark gloss of his horns and spines, the striking contrast of white and red–and Stolas couldn't help but stare.

He stroked one finger down Blitz’s spine, slow and deliberate, enjoying the way Blitz relaxed under his touch. Then Stolas just brushed the base of his tail, and he felt him go very still.

Oh? That was something new. He started again, this time tracing from between his shoulder blades to a few inches down his tail. There was no mistaking it this time. The moment he reached it, Stolas heard his breath hitch. 

“Is everything alright, darling?” he asked innocently, one finger still drawing short, delicate lines along his tail's base.

“Yep, fine,” he snapped, too quickly. Stolas fought back a smile. Blitz liked to think of himself as cool and hard to read, keeping his true feelings hidden beneath layers of sarcasm and thoughtlessness. But there were moments when he fell open like a book, secrets exposed to the world. Stolas cherished every one. He drank in the sight of Blitz’s spines lifting along his back, his cheeks flushing faintly, his head tilting just slightly back as Stolas continued to run his hand further down his tail. 

“You know,” he said thoughtfully, his fingers circling around Blitz’s spines, “it makes sense that imp tails would be rather sensitive. I'd never thought of it because my own is just feathers.” Blitz had turned half-around now, watching Stolas with his mouth slightly open.

Happy to have his attention, Stolas lifted Blitz’s tail into his hands and began to wind it between his fingers. “But yours is functional, rather than simply ornamental.”

He could hear Blitz carefully pacing each breath, trying and failing to seem unaffected. Stolas let another few inches slip through his fingers and smiled at the way his next measured inhale became an unsteady gasp. 

“It grasps and curls,” he continued, “it probes and responds.” He reached the very end of Blitz’s tail and gently cupped its pointed barb in his hands.

“It can bristle in anger…” His voice was reverent as he bent his head down.

“...or shiver in ecstasy.” He pressed a kiss to the center of the barb and felt a thrill run through Blitz’s whole body, mirroring the excited flutter of Stolas's heart.

The next thing he felt was his back colliding with the ground as Blitz tackled him. Stolas laughed, his breath only slightly impeded by the imp now straddling his ribcage.

“Fuck you.” He tried to look stern, but he was already fumbling with the buttons of Stolas's shirt.

“Darling, I believe that's your job.”

Blitz’s tail flicked a sharp reprimand against Stolas's thigh. Then he tangled his sun-warmed hands in Stolas's hair feathers and swept him up into a kiss.