#armed and dangerous: ( bio )

[im-ovulating]

For Kinktober: anything with Jasper Whitlock, but preferably size kink (short reader), voice kink, hand kink, and some on top of the clothes action / sex in the clothes. Choose all of it or one, I don't care, just having a brainrot about him: my ovaries explode every time I see this gif

(A/n: Kinktober Day 6/15! I wanted to keep all of this year's kinktober fics below 2.5k, but this one got away from me ;v;)

Word Count: 3,842

Summary- Well, you HAVE to take on his challenge -I mean, experiment. It's only the responisble thing to do as his study partner.

Warnings: Strip game, Fingering, PIV, Creampie, Cocky! Jasper, Not proofread

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Jasper Whitlock x Fem! Reader: Study Buddy

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"Did you know that predators have front-facing eyes, but prey normally have eyes on the side of their faces?" You ask Jasper as you scan your textbook. He had agreed to help you study for an upcoming test. "It's because the prey has to be able to look out for danger."

Not only is evolutionary bio not your strongest subject, but your professor is an asshat so you really can't afford to fail this test.

"I did," he mumbles as he highlights a section that he thinks you should go through again. "Did you know that when two animals make eye contact, the first to look away is the submissive?" Jasper asks back.

"That's gotta be BS, right? What if one just doesn't want to look at the other's ugly mug?" Your retort is weak, but your tone has the confidence of a straight, cis, white man who's telling you what your own name means.

Jasper lets out a small, huffed laugh and finally looks up at you, warm gold meeting e/c. "I don't think animals think that way, darlin'."

"Are you an animal whisperer?" You snark, crossing your arms with a cocked eyebrow.

"Do you really think it's not real?" He gets back on topic. When you shake your head, he turns his chair towards you before doing the same to your own so you both face each other. "Really? Then, let's test that theory, hm? You seem pretty confident in yourself, so what's the harm?"

"I seem pretty confident because I am pretty confident." You mark your place and shut the textbook.

He chuckles with a small shake of the head. Leaning back in his chair with one arm thrown over the back, Jasper says, "Let's play a game."

"We're supposed to be studyin-" "It's a science experiment."

When you fall back against your seat, he continues. "We'll make eye contact, we'll stare at each other, and the first to look away loses. And if you lose..." he smirks a little, "you lose a piece of clothing. Best out of five wins."

You chew on your lip as you mull it over. You're confident that you can keep eye contact. And the submissive thing is bullshit, anyway, so it's not like your pride will take a hit. "So, strip poker but with a staring contest?" He nods.

"Exactly."

"...okay."

You meet Jasper's warm golden gaze, determination etched on your face. There's no way you're going to lose this little game of his.

"I know what's going to happen. You're going to give in; you can't take the pressure." You ignore him, zeroing on a small fleck of dark gold in his eyes to ground your thoughts.

As the seconds tick by, you resist the urge to look away, focused solely on holding Jasper's stare. His voice, low and smooth, sends shivers down your spine. "That's a good girl, keeping those pretty eyes on me."

Your breath catches at the sudden praise, your lips parting in a small, silent gasp. You won't let him distract you that easily, though. You're in it to win it.

Jasper's long, slender fingers drum lightly against his jean-clad thigh, drawing your gaze for just a moment before you force yourself to look back into his eyes. His lips curve into a knowing smirk.

It takes you a second to realize. "...fuck!"

"That's my round, darlin'." He goads.

With a small grumble and more force than necessary, you all but rip your socks off and throw them at his head. He catches them before they even get close. You're less coordinated in your attempt to dodge them, and all you can do is grumble more when they hit you square in the middle of your face.

"Stop looking so smug - there's still plenty of time for me to whoop your ass." You can't decide if you want to wipe that dumb-ass, unfairly charming smirk off his equally handsome face or if you want to pull him in and kiss him silly. Probably both... Yeah, both is good.

Jasper's eyes gleam with amusement as he watches your continued huffing and puffing. He leans back in his chair, his fingers still tapping against his leg.

"Don't be so sour, darlin'," he grins, his voice low and velvety smooth. "The game's just getting started."

You narrow your eyes at him, determined not to let his distracting voice and looks throw you off this time. "Just shut up and start the next round, Whitlock."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he holds your gaze. The air crackles with tension as you both refuse to back down, each daring the other to be the first to look away.

The seconds tick by, the only sound the quiet rhythm of your breathing. You can feel the weight of Jasper's stare, intense and captivating, drawing you in. Your pulse quickens, palms growing sweaty, but you refuse to lose again.

Just when you think you might actually win this round, Jasper's lips curve into a slow, predatory smile. "You know you want to look away. You want to give in, to submit; it's in your DNA. C'mon... Just look away, prove what we both already know: that when it comes down to it, you'd do nothing but roll over and show your belly..."

You roll your eyes in a subconscious attempt to ignore how his words, no matter how much they were shit talking, made your heart leap into your throat. With a triumphant smirk, Jasper declares, "My round again."

"That's not fair! You shouldn't be able to annoy me into losing!" You lie through your teeth about the true effect he's having on you.

Barking out a laugh, he says, "The only rule was that we can't look away. We never decided talking or touching were off limits. You lost fair and square, sugar, so lose an item."

"But-" "Three seconds before i decide which one," he interrupts with a cheeky grin. "and you might not like what I choose... Three. Two-" You let out a frustrated groan, quickly removing your shirt and tossing it to the side. His laughter only serves to further stoke the flames of your competitive spirit. "There we go! Good girl."

"I thought we're supposed to be studying." You try to feign nonchalance as you sit there, bra exposed and with only three items left. Technically, you're tied in terms of clothing remaining, but it's also not lost on you that it's currently 0-2 in Jasper's favor.

"We are studying; this is a science experiment, remember? Unless you're ready to admit that you're wrong AND that you're submissive. That would be quite the win on my end." Well, shit. Now you can't back out. You'll be damned if you let him have something to hang over your head.

"Just you wait, Whitlock," you snap, trying to regain your focus for the next round. "I'm just getting warmed up."

You narrow your eyes at Jasper, determined not to let him fluster you again. The stakes are higher now, but you've got this.

Taking a deep breath, you meet his gaze once again. The tension in the air is palpable as you both refuse to back down.

Jasper's lips curl into a challenging smirk, his long fingers still tapping a steady rhythm against his thigh. You force yourself to focus solely on his eyes, blocking out everything else.

Seconds turn to minutes as you hold his stare, your heartbeat thundering in your ears but you refuse to waver.

Just when you think you're finding a groove and might stand a chance at winning, Jasper leans forward, his voice low and sultry. "You're doing so well, darlin'. But I can see it in your eyes - you're starting to crack."

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, but you grit your teeth and push on. You will not lose this round, no matter what underhanded tactics he tries.

The room fills with an intensity that almost makes it hard to breath as you continue your silent battle of wills. Jasper's gaze is unwavering, a predatory gleam in his eyes that makes your breath catch and waver.

Jasper's hand suddenly moves, his fingers slowly inching up your thigh. Your eyes widen and your pulse quickens but you refuse to look away.

"Good girl," Jasper acknowledges, his cool touch burning through the fabric of your jeans. "Just keep your eyes on me."

His fingers continue their slow, tantalizing trek up your thigh, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. His gaze is electric, drawing you in despite your best efforts to maintain composure. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, but you refuse to break eye contact, stubbornly holding his molten stare.

"Jasper…" you breathe, unable to keep the quiver out of your voice. His lips curve into a knowing smile, fingers inching higher.

"That's it, darlin'," his voice is low and velvety smooth. "Just focus on me. Don't look away. It should be easy for you, right? You're a strong, dominant girl, after all."

The temptation to give in, to let your eyes slip shut, is nearly overwhelming. But you dig deep, summoning every ounce of willpower to maintain the intense eye contact.

Jasper's hand reaches the waist of your jeans, his fingertips dancing along the sensitive skin just above. Your pulse quickens and a shiver runs down your spine.

"J-Jasper…" you stammer, grip tightening on the arms of your chair.

His eyes shine with a predatory gleam as he watches you. "C'mon, sugar. Just a little bit longer… You can do it. Keep those pretty eyes on me.

"Or you can look away, let me take these pants off." he adds with a self-satisfied smirk.

You know you're teetering on the edge, your resolve rapidly crumbling under the onslaught of his touch and his words.

The seconds stretch on, the tension in the room palpable. Jasper's fingers continue their torturously slow ascent, and you find yourself struggling to keep your focus on his eyes.

His fingers dance along the underwire of your bra, "And after that, I'll pull those panties off of you with my teeth; maybe dive right in and see if that pussy tastes as good as I think it does." Your eyes flutter shut as a white-hot spike of arousal shoots straight to your core. He pulls his hand away and when you reopen your eyes, you see a triumphant grin has spread across Jasper's face. "That's my girl." Your eyes widen as you realize - you've lost. Again.

"You've got two chances left. Still think you're going to win?" Jasper asks. "I'm sure you can do it. Right? You can turn it around. Round 4."

As you settle in for yet another round, he gets in another jab. "You're gonna break. You're going to and it's going to be really fast."

His hand returns to your thigh; this time it only takes a second for him to reach the hem of your panties, his fingers dancing along the elastic. You swallow harshly, but keep his gaze. "You're not even trying to fight it; you're just letting me touch you."

"You're gonna keep looking me in the eyes when I move your panties to the side and slide my fingers in, aren't you?" Your breath hitches. "No, don't lose yet. Come on, look at me. Don't look away, I don't want you to look away." It's hard to fight against the urge to hide your face but you manage. You can feel how hot your cheeks are, and you can only imagine the expression on your face.

"Good girl," Jasper murmurs. "Don't look away. Don't you dare look away." You start to squirm a little, clenching your thighs desperate for some friction. "Why are you turned on?" He teases, his fingers still threatening to dip under the thin fabric. "Is it because you're submissive and you like losing? There's fight and flight, but you... you freeze. And you're gonna let me take what I want."

He finally tugs your panties aside and dips two fingers into you. your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you try to focus. You're so wet you swear you can feel it dripping down towards your ass. Fuck this is embarrassing but you realize you'd rather die than stop now; you want this. You want to just let go and let him take and take and take.

You crave his touch, crave to be used by him.

Jasper's fingers crook up into a spot that has stars dancing in your vision. Somehow you manage to just barely keep your eyes on him.

"C'mon, don't lose. I only have three pieces of clothing; you can still win this..." he taunts. "Don't look away, don't look away. Don't look away. Don't lose. Come on, look at me in my eyes. Good girl- don't look away."

"There it is..." He muses, pressing his fingers into your g spot as your back arches away from your chair and a debauched moan rips from your throat. "You lose again, darlin'." He brings his hand up to his mouth to clean your arousal off his fingers.

You let out a frustrated whine, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Jasper's smug grin only infuriates you further - he's clearly enjoying this power he has over you.

"That's not fair," you pant, your body still tingling from his touch. "You're cheating."

Jasper chuckles, leaning back in his chair as he examines you hungrily. "Darlin', I don't need to cheat to make you submit to me. You want this just as badly as I do. Like I said earlier- we never agreed 'no touching'."

You can only glare half-heartedly at him, knowing he's right.

"Hey," Jasper ducks his head to catch your eyes as you look at the ground to avoid his gaze. "You got one more. It's the last round. You're still in this; you can still win. You've got to get at least one piece from me. you can't lose every time - that would just be pathetic..." You go to smack his arm, but he avoids it.

With a resigned and frustrated sigh, you unhook your bra and let it fall to the floor. "Let's get this over with already." you grumble. you want this to end partly to stop the embarrassment of losing this badly, but mainly because the sooner this is over, the sooner you can fuck him.

As the final round starts, Jasper reaches up to grab your chin, tilting your head up to barely brush his lips against yours. His eyes never leave yours as he asks, "Why don't you just look away on purpose so I can take these off and fuck you?"

His other hand reaches down to press his thumb against your clit, causing your eyes to shut as you let loose a shaky moan. "Oh- you lost..." The grin he gives you can only be described as devilish.

Faster than you can process, he is picking you up by the thighs and setting you on the table.

True to his word, he drops to his knees between your legs and. after pressing a few possessive kisses along your belly and the apex of your thighs, he takes your panties between his teeth and starts to slide them off of you.

You shudder with anticipation as Jasper's cool breath ghosts over your most intimate area. With painstaking slowness, he tugs your panties down, revealing your glistening cunt. His eyes never leave yours, molten gold boring into your very soul.

A playful smirk graces his perfect lips as he tosses the flimsy fabric aside. Calloused hands caress the soft skin of your inner thighs, urging them to part further. You comply willingly, heart racing in excitement.

Jasper hums appreciatively, drinking in the sight of your exposed cunt. Leaning in, he trails feather-light kisses along your dripping folds, teasing you mercilessly. Just when you think you can't take the anticipation any longer, his talented tongue darts out, parting your swollen lips and delving deep.

An involuntary moan escapes your lips as pleasure courses through you. Jasper sets an agonizingly slow pace, savoring every twitch and tremble of your body. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he explores every inch of your most sensitive area. "Fuck, I knew you'd taste amazing..." His low groan vibrates against you and forces another small gasp to leave you.

Jasper's skilled tongue continues its agonizingly slow exploration, eliciting more breathless sighs and whimpers from you. His grip on your hips tightens as he senses your growing desperation for release.

With a low growl, he suddenly picks up the pace, licking and sucking with purpose. Your back arches as the coil of pleasure tightens, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Just as you feel the first tremors of your impending climax, Jasper pulls away, leaving you panting and aching. He gazes up at you with hooded eyes, a smug expression on his face.

"Not yet, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice dripping with dark promise. "I have other plans for you."

Jasper's hands grip your hips firmly as he effortlessly maneuvers your body, guiding you to bend over the sturdy table. A gasp escapes your lips at the sudden change in position.

With your upper body pressed against the cool surface, you feel impossibly exposed and vulnerable. The long-forgotten books and scattered papers crinkle under your weight as Jasper's powerful frame looms over you, his presence radiating a primal dominance.

A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers trail along your spine, eliciting goosebumps in their wake. Leaning in close, he places a series of searing kisses along the back of your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin before pulling back and undressing.

Trembling with anticipation, you arch your back, silently begging for more of his touch. Jasper growls low in his throat, the primal sound sending a shiver down your spine. His large palms slide up your sides, calloused fingers caressing the curve of your waist.

You whimper, desperate for him to finally fuck you.

Jasper chuckles, the deep rumble of his voice sending sparks of desire through your body. "So impatient," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar, I'm just getting started."

Jasper's grip on your hips tightens as he slowly, teasingly, presses his body against yours. You can feel the hard lines of his muscles and you ache to have him inside you. His hands slide up your sides, caressing and exploring your body.

Finally, after what feels like ages, he lines his cock up with your sopping pussy and starts to press in.

You gasp, arching your back as the head of his cock teases your entrance. "Jasper!" You moan, shuddering with anticipation.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he slides into you, inch by delicious inch. You feel every millimeter of his legnth as he fills you up, stretching and claiming you. His grip on your hips tightens, and you can feel the way his forearms bulging as he struggles to maintain control.

"Fuck," he growls, finally bottoming out inside you. He holds still for a moment, his lips pressing against your neck as he regains his breath.

Then, without warning, he begins to move, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in with a force that takes your breath away. Over and over, he thrusts into you, his hips slapping against yours in a rhythm that is both primal and possessive.

You drop your head to the table, letting out a long, keening cry as you feel his cock hit your sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "Jasper!" You cry out, your voice echoing in the room.

His hands move to your breasts, tweaking and pinching your nipples as he fucks into you harder and faster. You can feel the heat building between your legs, the sensation growing more intense with each passing moment.

"I knew you were a submissive little thing," he says between grunts. "We could've gotten here a lot quicker if you had just dropped the act earlier, darlin'." You can feel his shit eating grin against your shoulder.

"Really?" you gasp out, body sliding against the table with each thrust. "You want to argue about that now?"

His chuckle is low in your ear. "Just making a point, sugar." Jasper presses a kiss to the space just behind your ear before leaning back and fucking into you harder.

The rough wood of the table bites into your shoulders, but you don't care. All that matters is the feeling of him inside you, claiming you.

"Jasper," you moan, your voice filled with pleasure and desperation. "I need… I need you to cum inside me." You beg, your back arching impossibly more as he reaches around to toy with your clit.

He picks up the pace even more, slamming into you over and over again. "Almost there, doll," he says, his voice rough with lust. "Just wait for it."

You clench around him, trying to draw him deeper inside you. The sensation is almost too much to bear, but you're so, so close.

You feel your body tense and then release in a wave of pure pleasure. Your muscles clench around Jasper's cock, milking him as you experience your orgasm. A loud moan escapes your lips, and your hips buck against the table unconsciously. Sweat beads on your forehead, and your skin feels flushed with heat.

As your climax subsides, you feel a cool rush between your legs. Jasper's release. He groans deeply, his body shuddering against yours.

After a minute of him staying plastered to your back, keeping you bent over the table, you feel him slowly pull out of you, and you can't help but whimper in disappointment.

"Don't give me any of that, doll," Jasper gently chides. He scoops you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest. You wrap your legs around him, holding onto him tightly. The chill of his skin against your heated sex is comforting, soothing the ache.

He carries you to the couch, setting you down gently before standing up and pulling his boxers on and heading into the kitchen. While he's gone, you take the opportunity to catch your breath and compose yourself. When he returns, he has a damp cloth. He gently cleans between them, his touch soft and careful as he wipes up the remnants of your tryst. Neither of you speak as he cares for you, reveling in the comfortable silence that blankets the both of you.

Once your cleaned up, he helps you redress; he helps you pull your panties back on along with his shirt. He scoops you up into his arms again as he lays on the couch. As you curl against him once more, he kisses the top of your head. "There's my good girl," he whispers. "I've got you."

[reidswhre]

spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: it’s silly and fluff

a/n: this is the intro of episode 7 from season 3, i founded it so funny so i made this blurb.

“A popular theory among leading astrophysicists estimates that the hypermatter reactor would need about 10 to the 32nd joules of energy to destroy a planet the size of the Earth.” You didn’t exactly know what Reid was trying to explain to Morgan, but he looked cute.

Emily looked at you mockingly.

“Now, Lucas said it took 19 years to build the first Death Star, right?” Spencer looked at you.

“But if you look at The New Essential Chronology, there's a test bed prototype for a super laser that's been—” Morgan got up from his seat and headed toward Rossi’s new office.

“Where are you going?” Spencer asked Morgan, confused.

“Taking back the last five minutes of my life,” Morgan replied, and Reid made a face.

“I was listening to you.” You shrugged.

“I know you were, you always do.” He smiled at you.

“Don’t you want to know about this guy?” Morgan asked as he walked up the stairs.

“I do.” Emily quickly got up from her desk.

“I don’t! Are you kidding? No, no—This is dangerous.” You followed them.

You were starting to panic a little. Not for nothing, but this guy was pretty mysterious, and even though you might sound a bit like a people pleaser, you were dying to make a good impression on Rossi, and if he caught you snooping around his office, you two weren’t going to become friends anytime soon.

“I've got it all memorized. His books, his bio,” Spencer replied to Morgan.

“Yeah, books that sold over a million copies.”

“So?”

“That’s a million reasons not to come back, if you know what I’m saying.” Morgan explained to us.

I mean, of course, he was right. Why would a guy who had already ended his career years ago suddenly come back? He wasn’t going to do it out of kindness. But that wasn’t your problem.

“Huh!” Morgan exclaimed as he entered his office.

“Taupe walls. That’s a negative color.” Emily was analyzing it. “Cold. Distant. You know, emotionally, taupe is linked to loneliness and a desire to escape from the world.”

“I just figured the guy’s walls would be covered with plaques and commendations,” Morgan continued to Emily.

“Maybe he doesn't want to be reminded of past victories. It’s a new chapter for him.”

Spencer and you peeked into the office, you clinging to his arm.

“Whatever happened to the moratorium on intra-team profiling, guys?” Spencer asked the group.

“Come on, Reid. Team? I don’t think this guy knows the meaning of the word.”

“Probably not, but—We shouldn’t be here. What if he sees us?” You were quite scared.

“I don’t think he will, don’t worry.” Spencer took your hand, and you both entered the office.

“I found something. Looks like some type of religious art. Original maybe, definitely expensive.” Morgan showed us a painting in a frame.

You wrapped your arm around Spencer’s and leaned on his.

“It’s Renaissance art,” you replied to Morgan, looking at the painting in Spencer’s hand.

“If that’s original…” Spencer followed your lead.

“Is it?” Morgan asked.

“It’s kind of hard to tell, I mean, he’s into the classics,” you continued.

“What else?”

“Italian, strict Catholic upbringing, probably believes in redemption.” Spencer was pondering over the painting.

“I believe in a lot of things.” You heard a voice behind you, and it almost gave you a heart attack.

You lifted your head off Spencer’s arm, stepping away from him entirely. He gave you a puzzled look due to the distance.

“Catholic, yes. Italian American, 52 years old. Strict upbringing? Not so much.”

We shared awkward glances between us. This couldn’t be happening.

“Now the artwork? That’s 15th-century original, it costs more than my first house. And as for the wall color, it’s just a base coat, painters will come in and finish tomorrow.” He gave us an ironic smile.

You felt like you were about to die or something.

“Now, if you’re all finished, I think JJ and Hotch are ready for us,” he informed us. “Isn’t that how a team works?” This time he looked straight at Morgan.

You quickly ran out of there before the embarrassment swallowed you whole. Spencer followed right behind you.

“Hey! Wait for me.” You heard him behind you.

“Are you kidding me? I told you we shouldn’t have gone in! What a disgrace, I can’t believe it.” You turned to look at him. “What’s he going to think of me?”

“I don’t think he cares that much, really.” He took your hands in an attempt to calm you down.

“How could he not!? We snooped through his stuff! We profiled him! Oh, this is bad!”

Spencer laughed a little at you. “What are you laughing at!?” You frowned.

“I really don’t think it’s that deep, don’t worry.” He gave you a sincere look.

If you thought about it, it wasn’t that bad. He probably wouldn’t even mention it again, and it wasn’t like you did anything serious... at least you hoped so.

“You think so?” You looked back at him.

“Of course!” He smiled at you. “Come on, I’ll make you some coffee before we go to JJ and Hotch.” Spencer gave you a small kiss on the forehead, took your hand, and led you to the kitchen.

a/n: so this is how i was picturing Spencer and reader when they we’re watching the artwork.

so cute i’m dying!!

[tirfpikachu]

are we just crazy or are lgbt spaces getting legit deranged?????

every unusual experience of sexuality/gender is a valid part of the bootiful qweer biodiversity of the world by default, but you can't be gay/bi/trans and not want to be called the q slur or see cishets say the q slur. and you can't say that you're afab4afab or amab4amab, that's just a creepy bigoted fetish you freak. unless you're transmasc4transmasc or transfem4transfem ofc, you get a free pass. but also kinkshaming is evil and deeply harms the most marginalized. but also make sure you don't have a fetish about genitalia... if you do, it's a "preference" not an inborn trait and you really can therapize yourself into liking it, just try hard enough. if you fail to you're a bigot, so just keep trying!! make sure to feel guilty abt it at least, you dirty homo. but getting beat up can be a cool sexual thing and bestiality or noncon is fine. but actual genitalia "preferences" are bigoted. if you don't call the genderqueer person pansexual instead of bi they'll chew their own arm off and hit you with it and call the cops but don't say you're a female trans man or that you're a trans guy lesbian or link it to being a female homosexual in any way ever okay?! you can't be at peace with acknowledging your sex/agab as a trans person!!!! or feel a connection to lesbian spaces as a trans man or gay male spaces as a trans woman!!! that's BIGOTRY and that's just feeding terf cunts you dumb theyfab. you can't link your cis womanhood to being afab AT ALL either bc that's transmisogynistic and dangerous rhetoric but every other group of gender marginalized folks can define their own identities and have a billion microlabels. you can't say you're not into girldick because not all trans women have dicks dumbass, surgical vaginas are defo the exact same as bio vaginas anyway so if you only like afab pussy & afab bodies you're a gross pervert mocking bottom surgery. and someone's upbringing as a male/amab or female/afab person definitely isn't a huge part of why homosexual ppl are into the same-sex/agab so you shouldn't give a single shit if a transbian flirting with you hasn't grown up facing misogyny or going thru afab/female body struggles or any of that, that has NOTHING to do with lesbianism between female ppl and has no bearing whatsoever on attraction you absolute psychopath. sexes/agabs is just a mix of detached body parts and you can play mr potatohead with it all and if you glued it good enough homosexuals wouldn't be able to tell at all that he used to be a mrs potatohead!! so they'd still hit that, right? homosexuals will go for anything anyway right?? homosexual love obvs can't be any deeper than genitals and fetishes. amab4afab ppl can be homosexual too anyway if they pass as gay irl too so homosexual isn't even a real tangible thing anyways it doesn't involve sex/agab at all and those ppl don't get to be their own specific oppressed class and do their own activism and have agency over their own identity bc they're super privileged worldwide and the enby living as a gender conforming woman in society dating a neckbeard looking for a third is more oppressed than a visibly gnc crossdressing bio guy holding hands with his normie bf. they might be gay but they're not qweer... except to the rightwing ofc!! oh and if you're trans and recently started passing as straight you're more privileged than an afab4amab couple who has lived as hetero til they transitioned! so shut the fuck up and listen to the New Gays. don't call yourself homosexual anymore or you're a cis bootlicker and if you're transmasc you're oppressing every transfem, including ones who have never faced misogyny irl a day in their fucking life!!! just be valid the RIGHT WAY!!!!!! be more queer you dirty normie homo!!!!!!

HAHAH i love it here

[bluegekk0]

Finally decided to work on the designs for all the side characters in the FPK AU, mostly residents of Dirtmouth as that's where the main portion of the AU takes place

Here's the full height chart including the FPK family members

(short bios for each of the characters under the cut)

Vyrm (alternate spelling of "Wyrm") - once the king of Hallownest, now a simple resident of Dirtmouth tormented by the guilt of his past actions and his own emotional trauma. Following the return of the infection, he disappeared in a self-manifested realm where he hibernated for years until he was woken up by Little Ghost. He woke up without his powers and completely alone, which forced him to hunt animals for food in order to survive. That was until he was found by Hornet and taken to Dirtmouth, where he reunited with Holly and Grimm, who would later become his partner and husband. He embraces his instincts by hunting animals and eating raw meat, though he is far from a dangerous beast. He owns a small tinkerer's shop in Dirtmouth, where he sells his creations.

Grimm - the exiled god of nightmares, banished from Godhome by his sister, The Radiance many years ago. A very alluring type with a past of promiscuous endeavors. He travels with his Troupe to perform and complete rituals, through which he replaces his physical body. He spent hundreds of years feeling loneliness, unable to find love due to his immortality, until he met Vyrm. They became close friends, though they were not able to confess their love and start a relationship until after Vyrm’s hibernation. Grimm and his Troupe now permanently reside in Dirtmouth, from which they travel to other kingdoms to perform their shows and the ritual. He drinks blood to prolong the lifespan of each physical body, and he has a fondness for fruits.

Hornet - the beloved daughter of Vyrm and the Deepnest queen Herrah. She grew up showered with her father’s love and formed a very close bond with him. Unfortunately, following her father's disappearance, she was forced to spend years all on her own, which turned her bitter and difficult to approach. She now struggles with anger issues and intense fear of getting attached, but deep down she cares a lot about her family. She moved to Dirtmouth following the end of the infection and now works as a hunter and gatherer..

Holly - the child of Vyrm and The White Lady, and the only known surviving vessel. A very gentle soul who finds joy in art of many forms. Now that The Radiance is gone, they enjoy a quiet and peaceful life living in the Vyrm family home in Dirtmouth. With their arm missing and their body weakened, they are unable to hold their nail, instead they focus on more relaxing activities to pass their time. They wear a prosthetic arm made by their father.

Lewk - Vyrm and Grimm's first child, a very curious and kind pup who attends Dirtmouth's school and constantly looks for ways to help others. Unlike his siblings, he shares some physical traits with the Grimmchild form of Grimm's ritual cycle, which is how he got his wings.

Milo and Asta - twins, the newest addition to the family. Milo, technically the youngest member of the family, is weak and sickly compared to his twin sister, struggling to keep up with his peers, which makes him very grumpy. Asta is stronger than her brother, full of energy and mischief, though underneath all of that there is a very compassionate individual who is very protective of her little brother.

Zote - a self proclaimed knight of great renown, in reality a lonely young bug living in a world of delusions. He was rejected by his hometown and his family, and so he traveled until he reached Hallownest. After the end of the infection, he found himself “adopted” by Vyrm’s family, and is on a slow journey of becoming less arrogant and mean.

Ogrim - one of the great knights of the Pale King, the last one that remained in Hallownest, best friends with Vyrm and a close friend of the family. Found by Hornet following Vyrm's return from hibernation, and invited to live in Dirtmouth alongside them. Leaving his duty as the knight behind, he put away his armor in favor of more comfortable clothing. He eventually embraced his long forgotten hobby of cooking and opened a small diner in the town. Liked by everyone thanks to his contagious optimism and supportive attitude.

Brumm - Grimm's right-hand man and trusted friend. Runs the Troupe in Grimm's absence and assists him during the rituals, and in his spare time directs the Troupe's music crew. He is a quiet individual focused on his job. In the past he had one-sided feelings for Grimm, now years later his eyes are set on one of the Nailmaster brothers, Mato.

Divine - Grimm's closest friend, she and her team are responsible for the costumes in the Troupe, and later also clothes for the Dirtmouth community. Once a lady from a distant land, she was invited to the Troupe following a war that destroyed her home. She's chatty and glamorous, and loves advising Vyrm on romantic matters.

The White Lady - Vyrm's former life and once the Queen of Hallownest. Cold and emotionally distant, often comes off as self-absorbed. She was blind to Vyrm's needs during their time together, and ended up neglecting and hurting him. Before the marriage, she was the Lady of the Queen's Gardens Mansion, and this is where she resides following the end of the infection. Years spent in the cocoon made her reflect on her past behavior, and while her interactions with Vyrm these days are rare, she puts effort into being more thoughtful towards him and his family.

Mato - one of the Nailmaster brothers, he got attached to Ghost of Hallownest after briefly teaching them. Following the end of the infection, he traveled from the Howling Cliffs to Dirtmouth to find out what happened to them, and after discovering that the town was now full of life, he began visiting it more often.

Bretta - a young writer and a hopeless romantic, she used to be infatuated by Zote before finding out he was full of lies, though she ended up forgiving him. She writes short stories and poems under an alias, and shares Holly's interest in plush sewing. She has a crush on Hornet, and finds both her and Grimm to be very inspiring to write about.

Iselda - the owner of Dirtmouth's cartography shop, Cornifer's wife. She is a close friend of Vyrm after helping treat his wounds following the Grimmkin incident. After the end of the infection, she began joining her husband on his map marking adventures. She can be a little intimidating, at times she sounds perpetually annoyed, but she always proves to be very caring about others.

Cornifer - Iselda's husband, co-owns the cartography shop. Frequently travels around Hallownest, mapping each location thoroughly. He is good friends with Vyrm, whom he enjoys discussing the Hallownest architecture and geography with. He's extremely detail focused which sometimes makes him miss the bigger picture, though he more than makes up for it with his very approachable personality.

Elderbug - one of the older residents of the town and a respected figure. He's very pessimistic and grumpy, and is especially annoyed by public displays of affection, suggesting that something in his past might have made him sensitive to it. He can usually be found in the town centre or in his little garden.

Tiso - an arrogant troublemaker and Hornet's self-proclaimed rival. Lives in the City of Tears but frequently visits Dirtmouth to challenge her to fights. He planned to battle in the Colosseum but changed his mind last minute out of cowardice. He's extremely sensitive about this subject and reacts with anger anytime it's brought up.

Quirrel - a curious wanderer and once an apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, tasked with protecting her dreamer mask. Holding the mask halted his aging process, and after her death, he aged visibly. With no purpose left, he planted his nail by the Blue Lake, but continued his life of wandering and exploration until he reached Dirtmouth, where he would become a teacher to the town's youth. He's very patient and understanding, though he can be a little absent-minded, likely due to his age and his struggles with memory.

Lemm - owner of the relic shop in the City of Tears. Following the end of the infection and the city's consequent revival, he became a respected shop owner, which made him quite wealthy. After Vyrm's return, he quickly realized his true identity, and began pestering him about his past in hopes of learning more about the kingdom, until Grimm's threats stopped him. He's very abrasive and unpleasant, though his passion for history and the relics in his possession is remarkable.

Lurien - the last of the Dreamers, who managed to survive after Ghost of Hallownest chose to unite the void and become the Shade Lord before reaching his spire. He holds the position of the highest authority in the City of Tears, willing to do anything to bring it back to its former glory and reclaim all of its districts from the criminals that plague it since the end of the infection. He struck a deal with Grimm, thanks to which he is able to keep the criminal population in check.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

"Hello." A dull thwack sound reverberated across the rooftop, leaving the boy who snuck up on Red Robin clutching his head. The boy, a meta if the large animal ears and tail were anything to go by, shook off the pain and pouted up at him, "What was that for?!"

The vigilante was unrepentant, holding his bo staff in a ready position, "You snuck up behind a vigilante at night. In Gotham."

"Okay," the meta conceded, still pouting. "You have a point there. Robin threw ninja stars at me when I tried to approach Batman."

That got Tims attention, "You tried to approach Batman? Was there something you needed?"

The kid suddenly got serious, "My mom went missing. I haven't been able to contact her for almost two weeks now."

Red pulled his arm closer to his face before he began typing on his wrist computer, "Can you tell me her name and date of birth?"

"Um." The other teen fidgetted with his tail a bit, "Okay, so...she's kinda Cheetah."

"...come again?"

"She's Cheetah. The...the supervillian."

Red Robin stared at him, and honestly who could blame him? The bats hadn't even known Cheetah had a son. "So why are you in Gotham? Why not ask Wonder Woman for help? Cheetahs one of her rogues not ours."

The teen shook his head, "She went to meet someone in Gotham before she disappeared. She seemed really agitated before she left, almost scared. I've never seen her like that before." He paused, giving the vigilante time to type before continuing, "I didn't go Wonder Woman since I figured I would wind up needing to talk to a bat anyway since its your turf and all." He said, waving a hand as if gesturing to the city around them.

"I wasn't aware Cheetah had a kid."

The meta grimaced, "she didn't until a year ago."

Red gave him a look, as if urging him to go on.

The meta chuffed, sounding a lot like whatever big cat he was supposed to be, "I'll only tell you my tragic backstory if you promise to help me find my mom."

"I'll find your mom." The bird said without an ounce of hesitation. Tim was a little offended. Did this guy think he was going to leave his mom in danger just because she was a criminal? Appearently so, seeing as the teen looked so relieved at his words.

"Okay, so my bio parents were evil mad scientists. Always a bad start, anyway they were obsessed with the occult and one day they suddenly took me and my sister to Brazil to hunt for some artifact of another. That alone was strange but weirder still was the fact my creepy godfather was paying for it all. He usually only does something like that when he's plotting "

"Plotting?" The detective interjected, "you make it sound like he does that often."

"Yeah. Hes a supervillian." The meta said casually, as if he didn't just leave Tim reeling, but the kid wasn't done yet, "He's had a massive crush on my bio mom since collage and never let it go no matter how many times she rejected him. She even married my dad, his best friend, and this dude just kept simping for 20 years." The teen rolled his eyes, "Hes convinced himself that if he murders my bio dad then my bio mom will fall in love with him and me and jazz will be "his"." He said that last part with fingerqoutes and a disgusted expression.

Tim filed that away for later, "Can I have his name, if nothing else?"

The teen seemed reluctant for a moment, "You're the worlds greatest detectives. You'll find out even if i try to hide it. Besides, I'd probably be better off if you and the Justice League know everything anyway."

Tim was...surprised by that. Most people usually weren't this open with them.

"His name is Vlad Masters, he also goes by Plasmius when he's dressed like a wannabe vampire. He's a ghost who's repossessed his corpse. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton, who are obsessed with ghosts and have convinced themselves that all ghosts are evil and must be destroyed, regardless of how much evidence points to them being wrong."

"And your name?"

The meta grinned at him, showing off four very sharp fangs, reminiscent of the large cat he takes after, "You can call me Jaguar. We were exploring a bit when I broke off from my family and got jumped by one of them. Suddenly I was struck by a claw and turned into furry bait. Fluffy stopped trying to make me his lunch and just stared at me before walking away, which was wierd. Then my parents found me, accused me of being a ghost, because thats naturally what someone would assume when thier son sprouts cat ears," he said while rolling his eyes.

"Naturally." Red joked, which had the benefit of making Jaguar smile.

"So my parents chased me through the jungle, shooting all the while, then suddenly a portal opened up in front of me. I'm not stupid, I know there was no way this wasn't a trap. I mean, a portal opening up right after that bizarre series of events and its the same shade of glowing green as the wierd death go my parents are obsessed with? There's no way they weren't related somhow, but I was desperate and jumped through anyway."

"I landed in another jungle, or the same one in a different location, I'm not sure. I tried hunting and foraging but wasn't very successful at either." Danny still remembered the throbbed in his head when he had headbutt that tree after missing his pounce on that pig he had been stalking. "Thats when Cheetah found me. She took me in and taught me to hunt and fight."

-----

Possible plot twists:

1. Danny isnt Phantom in this au

2. Danny is Phantom in this au but is trying to leave that life behind

3. My favorite. Danny has the ability to manipulate and control animals into doing his bidding with the effect of jaguars and other big cats being the most prevalent and he just doesn't realize it.

One of Cheetahs friends/allies realizes cheetah has changed and suspected something and convinced her to leave for a while to see if her care for this kid faded after a while away from his presence. It works and Danny loses another parental figure/possibly attacked by them too.

[i-cant-sing]

I don’t see any Castlevania asks and that makes me sad as HELL

How would (Y/N) react to Lisa’s burning? How would Dracula’s war court react to her? And Hector and Isaac?

I'm gonna go down the platonic route and make reader Lisa and Dracula's daughter, biological or kidnapped/adopted.

Obviously, any normal human would not react well to anyone being burned at the stake- ALIVE. And maybe when the villagers caught Lisa, they caught you as well and thought you were a witch too. They burned your mother first and just when they had started to burn you, Dracula came and swooped you up and away, along with his now dead wife's remains and while you passed out due to inhaling all the smoke, sustaining some minor burn injuries and well- EXHAUSTION AND TRAUMA, your father returned to slay the entire village and later wreak havoc on all of humanity. Really, a justified reaction from a family man.

Anyways, he returns home with you in his arms and then nurses you back to health all while killing everyone outside. Now, he may still be soft to you but you are absolutely forbidden from leaving the castle. Like you cant even go outside even if Dracula accompanies you. No, he's lost his wife and if youre their bio kid who is more human than vampire unlike your older brother Alucard, then Dracula is way more protective of you. After all, he did see you almost die and really, you remind him far too much of his wife, of her humanity and her kind heart to help others that eventually got her killed.

Initially, right after Lisa's death, Dracula didn't even allow you to even leave your room, too paranoid about some unknown force killing you and him not being able to save you in time. Eventually though, with other vampires and monsters(under his control obv) in the castle, he let you out of your room, but still not out of the castle, and thats when you found out that he had thrown out Alucard and (sort of disowned him??) because your brother was not in favour of Dracula either killing the world or locking you up.

Now, like I said before, Dracula is still soft for you but with Lisa's death he's become a little... emotionally crippled. He has too much pain and hatred inside him, and he's doing his very best that you dont end up on the receiving end of these very negative and very dangerous emotions. However, he sometimes... loses control. When you keep on persisting about how all of this is wrong, about how he shouldnt kill ALL humans, how he shouldnt lock you up or break what remains of this family, he lets his anger out on you. Only a little. He'd yell at you, tell you that you're far too stupid an naive and stubborn to understand what he's doing or why, ask if you're going to side with those murderers that you so desperately want to save over your own family? Are you that blind? He'd drag you back to your room, lock you in there because he wont have you questioning him like he's the bad guy here.

But soon after that, he'd be found sitting in front of one of Lisa's portraits, probably one where she's cradling baby you and he'd start talking to her, trying to explain himself, how he did not mean to blow up at you but you just wouldn't listen to him. The one sided conversation would always end with Dracula feeling guilty and he returns to your room with a heavy heart that just sinks more when he sees you asleep, tear streaks now drying on your cheeks. Sitting on your bed, he'd pet your hair, mumble something about how he loves you and cant afford to risk losing you, smiling softly when you shuffle closer to him.

Since Dracula knows Hector is loyal and sincere to him, he will allow you to have him as your friend. After all, you would need some company in the castle and vampire dad on murder spree is not exactly someone who is ideal for friendship at the moment. So, he permits and even encourages Hector to socialise with you and comfort you. And Hector has a bleeding heart too, so you're in luck because he will happily listen to you express your emotions and provide you with free therapy (he makes dead, one missing limb/eye puppies alive for you🥺) He just wanna protect u too, and while he doesnt agree with you being locked up in the castle, its better than the alternative. Also, has and will fight Isaac 1000% if he talks shit about you because youre human.

As for the court, they know that you are now the only thing dear to Dracula, and while one wouldnt say that you have the vampire king wrapped around your finger, he comes pretty close to it. But its no use really because they cant exactly use you to make Dracula listen to them... or can they?

Considering that you're pretty against the whole "Vampire uprising-kill all humans" plan, they cant persuade you to enslave or kill humans. What they can do is gain Dracula's favour by being... kind to you? Okay take Carmilla for example (because she's the only one I can remember from the court. Her and the brash, red haired vamp?) Now she's smart, she's manipulative and she knows exactly how to use this opportunity. She starts to befriend you by first agreeing that she understands why you're against your father's actions but also tells you that you must understand his decisions from his side. "Your mother was a kind woman, a brilliant doctor and from what I've heard, your father loved her very much. And if you've ever been in love, then you would understand why he's doing all of this." And of course Dracula overhears this because come on, nothing happens in his castle without his knowledge. So yes, he shows slight favouritism towards Carmilla among the court and he may allow her to hang around you a bit (only after Carmilla convinced him that you needed a female friend in your life, and its always better to be in her company than any of those perverted men of his court) but even then, Dracula doesn't completely trust her around you and so he wont allow you two be in contact often.

Dracula would also be way more conscious of your feelings with time, because he will realise eventually that he was far too caught up in his own pain and plan for vengeance that he forgot to see how you were coping with the loss of your mother. If any of the vampires are heard saying something even remotely mean to you, if he even hears Isaac even breathing in disgust at the sight of you because you were part human, they will be swiftly dealt with (girl, he murders them all).

You're his baby, his sweet human kid, his little princess and he wont have anyone or anything taking you away from him. (LET HIM PULL YOU IN HIS LAP AND WRAP HIS CLOAK AROUND YOU AND DRIFT OFF IN HIS ARMS BECAUSE YOU'RE THE ONLY WARMTH LEFT FOR HIS COLD DEAD HEART OMGGGG)

Ah i miss Castlevania asks too, platonic yandere castlevania asks especially. everyone send in ur asks.

(omg what about yandere brother Trevor Belmont?)

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

rrriiight i was thinking of a hualian x reader thing. the reader is a bit cold and apathetic but caring of two certain people and had been all the way through with hualian like for example, had served xie lian when he was still a prince or helped hong er from time to time. but somehow they just vanished and never came back.

surprise surprise, whilst hualian and some other gods were on a mission, they got attacked let’s say (or were in danger) and guess who came to save them? reader! and thats when it clicks for hualian. that was you. you weren’t gone. so- they never let you get away ever again.

just an idea that came to mind :D

In the Back of Your Mind

Hua Cheng x gn!reader x Xie Lian

I'm so sorry it took so long! I try to put my life updates in my bio, but I've been very busy moving houses! So I'm rlly sorry and I hope this is good!

I didn't know if you wanted reader to be a ghost or a god but I made them a ghost

Because gods don't usually disappear for like ever? Idk uhm if you don't like that just tell me and I'll edit it!

Made up a scenario that puts Xie Lian and Hua Cheng at a disadvantage

Ignore grammar mistakes

Slight OOC!!!

Made up details about reader and their life

____________________________________

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are very happy with their relationship and their life

But something's missing

Someone's missing

They haven't seen you in a very, very long time

It's been centuries actually and you still haven't shown up

But they haven't forgotten you, even though you've been missing or maybe even dead they still think about you in the back of their head.

Xie Lian misses you dearly

You had served Xie Lian during XianLe and had always been by his side.

You took your job seriously and it was your first priority to keep Xie Lian happy

You served him well and fought for him too

Your loyalty to Xie Lian was deep and everyone could see it

Everyone knew you loved him besides Xie Lian of course.

Because it was obvious! You wouldn't utter a word to anyone else

Your presence was a cold force to anyone besides Xie Lian

You were always quick to create space with anyone who came near him too.

It seemed like you couldn't care less for anyone else's problems but Xie Lian's.

Not that it mattered to you, as long as you could stay by his side it didn't matter what you were

Whether you were his servant or guard, whether you were next to him or below him, whether he used you as a step or tool.

You never minded, you'd do anything for him even if he wouldn't do those things.

You stayed by his side when Mu Qing and Feng Xin disappeare

You stayed when his palace fell

When his parents died

When Xie Lian started on a bad path

When he turned meaner, rougher, and angrier so that he wouldn't be hurt by the world again

When he grieved because he had been done wrong

You stayed with Xie Lian for as long as you could, and you loved him deeply every second of it.

But then someone took you from Xie Lian.

You never came back

Hua Cheng misses you just as dearly.

You took care of Xie Lian so well and then you just disappeared

When Hong er as caught by Xie Lian obviously he couldn't take care of Hong er by himself

But when Xie Lian was busy, everyone else was too disgusted to touch him

And Hong er didn't want to be in anyone else's arms either

You were different though, even though you were a servant like Mu Qing and Feng Xin you reacted differently

You held Hong er gently, as if the mongrel child would fall to pieces in your arms

You wouldn't let anyone touch him or try to kick him out of the palace

Always quick, you would settle a cold glare on someone if they tried to pull Hong er from your arms

Taking care of Hong er was just as serious as taking care of Xie Lian to you

You spent a lot of time with His Cheng like that

So after Hua Cheng's first death he searched and searched and searched

He never found the two of you

When Hua Cheng had finally found Xie Lian he was so excited to finally see you both again!

Even though he doesn't want to reveal his secret just yet, he hopes the two of you won't find him disgusting for his actions

But. . . You weren't there.

Don't get him wrong Hua Cheng is very happy to see one of the loves of his life after searching so long but you have never left Xie Lian's side so where are you?

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng continued their relationship and their story without you

Which was unfortunate but what could they do?

They had both tried to search for you and found you no where

Things are always changing though

🦊🪷

It was just another mission, and it should've been quick and easy. Especially since Xie Lian and Hua Cheng tagged along. Hua Cheng was only here for Xie Lian though, no one else. The mission didn't go smoothly though.

Missions rarely go smoothly when you're in the dark woods, with lots of monsters, and a heavy fog covers the forest. Not smooth at all when lower gods are bickering with Hua Cheng and Xie Lian.

They all got lost and wherever they ended up in these dark woods, had a block on the arrays. Xie Lian can't call for help or reach the heavens and neither can the other gods. What's worse! Powers are blocked too! It's like they've all stumbled upon an area of complete silence as if they were muted.

So even Hua Cheng is struggling a little bit right? Can't break the blocking energy source if you can't find it! Of course the gods all split up, leaving Xie Lian and Hua Cheng alone. It doesn't matter to Hua Cheng if his powers have been weakened or not he'll still do everything he can to protect Xie Lian from the monsters in the woods.

The more time Xie Lian and Hua Cheng stand around in the fog the more things they see. The deeper they go, the thicker the fog gets. And the thick the fog gets the more people they start to see the more things they start to see. It's not a good thing though, it's all illusions and they figured that out quickly when Hua Cheng swipes at a humanoid figure that looks just like Xie Lian.

Xie Lian doesn't have the time to solve the problem because him and Hua Cheng have a big possibility of being hurt right now. E-ming and rouye refuse to move. Hua Cheng will happily use his body and hands to defend Xie Lian if he has to though. Xie Lian says that's silly and chooses to run, dragging Hua Cheng along with him. The foggy ghosts only chase, and it's hard to run in such thick fog.

In fact the fog is so thick that eventually after running so long the ghosts give up on running after them. Xie Lian thought they were safe now but when he looks back Hua Cheng is gone.

Xie Lian shouts for him and tries to look around but the more he looks around the fog the more humanoid figures he sees. they're just. . . Fog. If Xie Lian could see Hua Cheng right now and he still wouldn't know if it was the real one.

The fog is dangerous, creating illusions of people Xie Lian already knows or things from his past, trying to trick him. He's only more lost and he doesn't know how to get out of this mess. It's actually very stressful, how does the fog know all these things, how is it forming the people he used to know and love?

Hua Cheng is in the same predicament. He wanders around the fog and at one point he thought he found Xie Lian again but when his hand wrapped around Xie Lian's arm, the figure turned in vapor. They're both lost. They're both being surrounded by crowds of foggy figures.

Just before the foggy figures are able to touch them the fog disperses though. A loud screech Is heard in the air, a sudden cold breeze blowing past Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, then the fog settles down. It turns out they weren't that far from each other at all and Xie Lian has never run into Hua Cheng's arms faster.

When they both see a foggy figure again they get nervous. One, because the fog has dispersed so they thought they were safe now. Two, it looks like you. Xie Lian already hates the fog he's already seen awful things but he doesn't want to see you like this. Not the fake you.

He can't help but tear up when 'you' try to urge him to come forward, but with the fog gone so is the blocked energy. Xie Lian shoots rouye out, trying to make the awful sight go away by rouye wraps around a surprisingly very sturdy wrist. You grip on rouye and pull Xie Lian forward a little, uttering a small "Dianxia, Hong er"

They know it's you, even though it seems so unbelievable. Xie Lian is literally jumping on you and knocking you to the ground. Hua Cheng manages to act a little more suave but he'd be a liar to say he isn't astonished. It's just a big pile of tears, embraces, and "I love you's".

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng waste no time bringing you home, they cling on to you desperately. Even if you just want to explore Paradise Manor it doesn't matter, both of them are at your side. They absolutely refuse to let you go. As if they're scared, if they look away you'll vanish again. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng just won't let that happen! They love you very much and they've missed out many years of loving and caring for you. They plan to repay all the missed affections

____________________________________

Uhhhh here it is! I hope it's good 🤔 honestly I feel a little eh about this but let me know what y'all think 🖤I don't know if this is exactly what you were imagining anon but if it wasn't this make another submission in like deeper, exact details and I'll try again okay!

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

warnings: slight sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), swearing, saying the wrong name during sex, Beetlejuice

AN: I know I'm a day late but this works out anyway so Happy (late) 73rd Birthday Michael Keaton!

I panted as VA thrust into me, head buried in my neck as he kissed and sucks along the skin there.

“(Y/N).” He moaned as I tilted my head back. VA ground against me as he pulled back to look at me. “I’m gonna cum. Cum for me. You need to cum first.” I nodded as he thrust hard into me.

“Beetlejuice!” I screamed as I came. VA grunted as he came, collapsing on me as his arms gave out. “Oh fuck VA.” I breathed out as he kissed his way to my lips. “That was…that was…” he hummed against my lips.

“yeah that was.” He chuckled, pulling out and moving to my side. VA pulled me into his arms, making sure to put my head on his chest. I hummed happily as I traced circles over his heart. “Who was that you were calling out for?” VA was looking over in the corner, smirking slightly.

"shit." I muttered. "Look. I'm sorry I said my ex's name during sex." VA hummed and rubbed my back.

"Three times." VA said. I pulled back to look up at him.

"Three times?" I asked, eyebrows shooting up. VA nodded, gently turning me so I could see who was sitting in the corner.

"Three times." Beetlejuice said, smirking at me. "Hi sweets. Long time no see." I gasped and jumped back, hitting VA in the chest. VA chuckled as he wrapped his arms around my waist. "I gotta say when you left me, I didn't think you'd shack up with someone who looks like me. Let alone me when I was living. Let alone you'd shack up with the living." I rolled my eyes.

"Come on Juice." I groaned. "Get outta here."

"Why should I?" He asked, getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I get a free show and I get to see the love of my life again." He laid down, head dangerously close to my legs. "Come on sweets. Give me another chance. What do ya say?" I shoved him away with my foot.

"What do I say?" I asked. Beetlejuice nodded. "I say..." Beetlejuice's smile grew and VA smirked at me before kissing my head. "Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice!" Beetlejuice disappeared with a pop and VA pulled me back to his chest. "Next time you catch me saying that, stop me." I said as I reached up to run my fingers through VA's hair.

"I'll do my best." He chuckled. "But you have to admit, he is kind of fun."

"Wait...how long was he watching?" I asked, horror creeping over my face. VA just laughed before rolling back on top of me for another round.

[hatchan]

the UHC CEO assassination is fascinating to me, this is a story I'm gonna follow

so far the consensus is that it was a targeted attack--there were other people in the area and the assassin shot this guy specifically. CEO had no security with him, didn't seem to know he was in danger. shooter seemed to know exactly where he'd be and he was waiting for him

According to NYT: "The pages on the UnitedHealthcare and UnitedHealth Group websites with headshots and bios for company leadership were not available after the shooting on Wednesday morning. It was not immediately clear why the pages were no longer accessible." fascinating! why?

"He had been chief executive since 2021, during a time in which the parent company and his division were rattled by federal investigations, even as it enjoyed profitable growth. The division has been criticized by congressional lawmakers and federal regulators who accused it of systematically denying authorization for health care procedures and treatments." hmmmmmmm you don't say. I wonder why someone would have it out for this CEO specifically hmmmmm

there was an INVESTOR PRESENTATION happening in the same hotel when everyone in the room starts getting alerted of the CEO being shot, and then dying, right outside. oh man if I could've been a fly in that room....

Again from NYT: "The insurance arm of UnitedHealth Group has also been under federal scrutiny because the parent company was the victim of a broad cyberattack on its billing and payment system, ChangeHealthcare. Private information, including health data, from more than 100 million Americans was compromised in the ransomware attack. The parent company paid $22 million in an effort to stop the hackers." f a s c i n a t i n g

apparently this was printed hella fast:

I wanna know, who works in the printshop for the NYPD? how'd they get that job? do they like it? who's their graphic design people? how fast did they get this big thing printed? calling the victim a "50-year-old male" who met "his demise" is a choice. I wonder why they made that choice.

the mayor apparently had to specify to the press "This was not a random act of violence" haha new york is totally safe don't worry about it

"Officials with the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, which runs New York City’s transit system, said that the shooting did not impact subway or bus service during the morning commute." LMAO. OF COURSE WE HAVE TO ASSURE EVERYONE THEIR SUBWAYS WONT BE DELAYED LOOOOOLL that is the most important thing after all

"On the third floor of the hotel, the company's annual investor conference continued seemingly without interruption as news of the shooting was just beginning to spread. Attendees mingled over cups of coffee, shaking hands and talking shop. “Someone got shot outside,” one attendee said to another as they made their way up from the lobby. Others took photos of the news crews gathering outside on their phones." yep this checks out

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

✨ New Patreon Upload! ✨

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Offside Affairs (Part 1)

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You weren't supposed to fall for him

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x You

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 6.6k

Warnings! ANGST!! messy fwb relationship, Kylian is a horny bastard, , FLUFF! you are Jude's adoptive sister, NSFW! SMUT (18+), oral sex (f & m receiving),

Preview

**********

You never intended to fall for Kylian Mbappé.

You weren't supposed to.

It was meant to be simple—casual, no strings attached.

But Kylian had a way of making you forget that. He had a way of doing things to you that made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

A way of looking at you, of speaking to you, that made it feel as though time itself slowed down just for you, just for the intensity of his gaze, the tenderness of his touch. Every word he spoke felt like it was meant solely for your ears, every laugh shared a private joke between the two of you. And when he touched you—whether it was a brush of his hand or the weight of his arm around your shoulders—you felt it like it was the very air you breathed, like you were the center of his universe, and nothing else mattered.

It all felt like a slow burn. A dangerous kind of fire you never should’ve gotten too close to, but you did anyway.

And now you're burning.

It started out as just fun.

A messy, impulsive decision made after one too many drinks at a party.

He was charming, in a cocky, borderline arrogant way, but not the kind that made you cringe. No, it was a magnetic kind of cocky. The kind that made you feel like you wanted to be the one who caught his attention, who earned that devilish grin of his. It was easy to get swept up in it, and that night, when he whispered his number into your ear with that slow, teasing smile, you lost.

You woke up the next morning in his bed, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. What had you done? He was Jude's teammate. You both had a rule—no sleeping with each other's friends. Simple. Easy to follow. And now...

How could you let things go that far? How could you allow it to get out of hand like that? What would Jude think?

The thought of him finding out made your stomach churn with guilt. And yet, for all the panic and guilt swirling inside of you, there was something else too... something you couldn’t quite name, but it was there, gnawing at you in a way you couldn’t shake.

Because as much as you should have regretted it, you didn’t. Not at all.

And that... well, that was the most dangerous part.

And soon it became a regular thing.

He had been clear from the very beginning, setting the terms with brutal honesty: no strings attached, no feelings involved, and absolutely no one finding out.

Simple, right?

You told yourself that was all you wanted, too. It was supposed to be physical, just pure casual sex—moments stolen in the dark, breathless nights that were nothing more than escapes from your own reality.

No expectations. No complications. Just two bodies finding release in each other for a while.

It worked. At first.

But somewhere along the way, your heart betrayed you, and you fell for him.

Fell for him and the way he’d whisper your name like a prayer when he fucked you. The way he looked at you as though he'd never seen you before. As though every time were the first time. The way his hands wandered over your skin, like a man starving for a taste of heaven.

Fell for the way his lips felt on yours, as though they were two parts of a whole. The way he’d trace your jaw with his thumb, like he was memorizing the shape of your face, like he couldn’t get enough of it. The way he’d tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, brushing against your skin just a little too softly, sending chills down your spine. And when his lips would hover near your ear, murmuring words that felt like promises, you couldn’t help but lean into them. Into him.

And you tried.

You really did try to convince yourself that you could keep it contained. That this was just a passing thing, a physical release that didn’t have to mean anything deeper. That you could bury those feelings deep enough that they wouldn’t surface, that he would never know.

But deep down, you knew it was only a matter of time before everything spilled over. You couldn’t hide from it forever, not from yourself and not from him.

The way you started to look at him, the way you couldn’t stop thinking about him when he wasn’t around—it was too much.

You knew the moment would come.

And when it did, you weren’t sure what would happen. Would he laugh it off, or worse, would he distance himself, run in the other direction the moment he realized? Would he stay, or would everything crash and burn? You didn’t know, and that uncertainty—it terrified you.

Because the scariest part wasn’t the guilt or the fear of getting caught. It was the part of you that didn’t want it to stop. The part of you that was scared to find out just how much you really cared, how much you were willing to lose.

And that scares you more than anything.

*********

-Bianca🌻

[owlets-outlet]

my mouthwashing good ending headcanons:

on the tulpar:

1. anya tells swansea and daisuke about the assault pretty much immediatelly after the crash. the crew seals jimmy in his room with insulation foam until they get rescued.

( i was thinking about letting the crew kill j*mmy, however. he doesnt deserve that mercy. so he lives and is jailed forever. )

2. the crew dont know what to do about the baby. anya doesnt want to use pills for diy abortion, mainly because thats what jimbo told her to do and she doesnt want to listen to him.

in a dangerous twist of fate, she miscarries, because of stress and low bodyweight. its not a dramatic miscarriage, the fetus just dies in the uterus. anya suspects she miscarried, but doesnt tell the crew so they dont worry about her.

3. the crew gets rescued just in time- anya was on the verge of dying from the infection that started festering inside her from the miscarriage.

immediately after rescue:

anya and curly are rushed to the hospital. they got treatment on the rescue ship already, but that was only the bare minimum. pony express pays only for the bare minimum treatments.

curly is hooked up to a sci-fi mind reading communication device. its not perfect, but they manage to find out what happened. jimmy is arrested.

swansea:

after losing his job and breaking his dry streak, hes surprisingly okay. using his severance pay and his savings, he opens a small business, becoming a freelance electrician.

he doesnt drink as much as he used to, but he drinks regularly. he still buys himself sneakers on his soberversary though.

daisuke didnt even have to beg him too hard to be accepted as his apprentice, really.

daisuke becomes his other child, basically, he visits daisuke and regularly treats the him and the crew to meals, just like he does with his bio kids.

he also takes daisuke thrifting sometimes, judging his outfits on a scale of 1-10.

daisuke:

hes back to living with his parents.

daisuke really wanted to continue being swanseas apprentice, not just because he liked swansea, but because he really wanted to feel useful somehow.

he doesnt really vibe with most swanseas kids, but hes polite everytime they visit the shop where he helps swansea.

him and anya do gaming nights, often hopping on discord call in the late evening.

he still struggles with impostor syndrome, feeling like he didnt do enough for the crew of the tulpar.

curly:

he struggles with his mental health extensively. hes traumatized by being forced into being a bystander and his new disability keeps reminding him of that fact. his old crew encourages him to keep going though, and daisukes family pays for his therapy sessions.

he underwent many surgeries, mainly skin transplants (he still looks. uncanny though), rhinoplasty (more like. he just got a whole new nose altogether) and added eyelids (made his eye look smaller than before) and lips.

while this IS the Future, many of the cool 'solutions' to his disability are too expensive. pony express only paid for curlys wheelchair with a communicator and a cheap pair of prosthetic arms. the motor abilites of these arms are limited, as he cannot even write with them. theyre purely there just so he can operate his wheelchair by himself.

he wants to save money to buy new legs and arms, mostly just because he'd love to get back into weightlifting again.

after being fired, he mostly relies on disability pay and benefits.

he dropped many of his old friends, because they sympathised with jimmy, but he still has a close knit group of friends, with whom he lives.

he wanted to quit being a pilot long before the crash, and his old crew convinced him that he should pursue something new, to help him move on.

with the financial support of daisukes parents (daisuke begged them), curly enrolls in med school. he chose a proffession where he would help people.

thanks to this he grew even closer to anya.

anya:

tried to distance herself from the crew, because she felt like dead weight, but they didnt let her. daisuke talked her and curly into therapy.

she couldnt afford to try to get into med school again, and even then, she wasnt sure if she even wanted to do that anymore.

but, due to his disability, curly needed a notetaker and, well. the stars just aligned.

being his notetaker, anya gets to attend all the lectures with curly, helping him with his studies while she absorbs all the knowledge. this gave her the confidence she needed to decide to try again, sometine in the future.

asides from this, anya took up running again. she runs regularly, planning to run a marathon one day. she also gained a lot of weight after coming back, resulting in a mean bulk, gaining quite a lot of muscle.

sometimes she runs together with curly and daisuke, and curly also coaches anya in the gym on occassion.

the whole crew regularly meet up for brunches and birthdays. :)

[huicitawrites]

The Hunt

Yandere! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Spider! Reader

tw: yandere (slow-burn(?)), dark-fic, violence, assault, spoilers for across the spider-verse.

word count: 6,1 k

status: in revision

Prev chapter

taglist: @zeniiin @aikoiya @caramelcandescence @adamsloverboy @slowlymax @reapersimps @jenniferdixon05207 @superduckmilkshake @ceeesxy-blog @wotterblue

Part II

“Stay still and let me squash you like the spider you are!" 

"I think I'll pass on that one, thanks" you retorted as you moved out of yet another attack which could have pierced through you. You were jumping around, feet and arms in sync as you balanced your body to dodge the snapping metal claws. 

The flow of your body conveyed an effortless image, but the fight was far from over. As hard as it was to admit, you were having a tough time figuring it out. 

"Be wary of those, (Y/n)" 

"Yep" 

The foe before you was good at maintaining his distance and using the range of the metal limbs to his advantage. The claws snapped any web you shot at him and easily dodged and covered from your attacks as well. This metal exoskeleton he had was really bothering you- whereas you were used to the fleshy feeling of the mutant tentacles of the mad bio-engineering scientist you knew, this self-proclaimed Otto Octavius’ tentacles were purely made of metal. And it was quite metal, because your fist hurt like hell when you came into contact with it despite your super-strength. In addition, the metal exoskeleton was purely coordinated with his movements. They were calculated and clean, unlike the brash and wild nature of 'your' Doc Ock. [Thank God this copycat came in with a discount, it would have been worse if you had to deal with eight metal octopi-limbs.] 

In the battle's agitation, something odd occurred. Just when you thought it could not get any weirder, his frame shook violently, and he fell to the ground in a flash of strange colors and shapes. His voice quivered, his shout of pain came out distorted and chopped. 

"What the-? Peter, is he...?" 

"Glitching?” he said with doubt, “but how..." immediately, he began to tap away on the keyboard. 

You did not want to waste your time observing the phenomenon, instead deeming this man dangerous, you took the opportunity to confine him in your webs. The webs surrounded his torso and tied extra-tight around the metal limbs. 

The glitching stopped and you neared him. 

"So… Otto Octavius, right? Mind telling me more about Spider-Man?" You asked, but there was no answer. His head was hanging, and his shoulders were too lax, he seemed unconscious. 

"Um, sir?" You closed the distance between you and touched him briefly. "Sir? Other Dock Ock?" You continued, and just as you were about to check if he was breathing, something cool clamped down on your wrist. 

Immediately you redirected your sight and saw a metal claw on your wrist, it was viciously gripping you. Then you heard laughing, making you turn your attention at a now perfectly conscious man with scraps of web around him on the floor. 

"Ah, shit". In cue with the curse that left your lips, you were thrown at full force against the building. Your head impacted first and your body slumped to the ground, a loud ringing sounded off in your ears, and your sight turned terribly foggy. 

You groaned in pain and attempted to get up, but the metal limb got to you first and lifted you off the ground once more. It pulled you near as you thrashed. To escape from the vice grip, you focused the muscles of your arm and began to open apart the metal claw. The metal screeched and folded, yet your efforts dwindled when another claw came at you. 

This time, it wrapped itself around your throat, cutting the airflow into your system. He hoisted you up to admire your writhing form. 

"I just love killing spiders," he grinned wickedly, "after this, Peter Parker is next".  

The mention of your friend sent the adrenaline in your body rushing and your heart strained against your chest. Your body was urging you to move, muscles tightening to contract and exert force- but your eyes began to fail you. Your vision slowly turned opaque due to the lack of oxygen. 

A final metal claw appeared, and you vaguely made out a glimmering edge at the center of it- a sharp blade. 

"Die."  

You heard the words laced with venom and your friend frankly calling out to you, his voice drowned by the fading consciousness of your body. Was this the end? Is this the way it all ends?  

'C'mon girl, keep it up!' 

Just when the point-end of the blade was about to pierce you, an orange glow painted the scene. An engine roared— the blade never came.  

You were dropped on the ground unceremoniously when the vice grip let go of you. Lips parted for a large gasp for that sweet, sweet air. Still, its sudden intrusion made you cough, and as your back shook furiously you felt a soothing sensation on it. Somebody was rubbing your back. 

"You alright?" Another masculine voice, but this time, it was friendly and caring. There were no traces of animosity in it. 

Even before your sight could clear, your spider-sense was running. It was running even more wild than before, and when you opened your eyes to see your savior, you were left astonished. 

Your spider-sense tingled and evened out, synchronizing up with another spider-sense. 

This man was just like you. 

The web-patterned mask, his lenses, the arachnid symbol on his chest. It was all too familiar. 

"You...are me?" 

"No, and yes. I mean, no, I am not you, but I am like you." He hoisted you up by the elbow and put you on your feet. "Anyway, explanations later, now we have to deal with this guy and put him back in his dimension."  

"In his dimension? What-" 

"Explanations later", a female voice interrupted and reiterated. You glanced at the direction of the voice and your spider-sense picked up the same feeling.  

It was a woman with big, dense curly hair, in a stylish leather tracksuit with a matching headband, and she rode on a motorcycle. She did not wear a mask, revealing part of her brown skin, but she had large, yellow-tinted sunglasses in a shape and proportion you knew all too well. 

The woman flashed you a sweet smile, showing her gapped-pearly whites. 

"Now, let's kick ass" and she roared the engine once more and rode straight at Octavius. She crashed the vehicle into him, pushing him back, and stood up on it. As she balanced her weight forwards on the vehicle, she reached out her hand- five web strings much like your own sprouted from the pads of her fingers. She brought the villain flush against the tire of the running motorbike, and he clutched his face in pain. The man who patted you followed suit, and he too shot web, although out from his wrist, and launched himself against him. He delivered a couple of blows, punches, and kicks, as he used his 'web-shooter' -you guessed- to propel back and forth. 

You just stood there, eyes wide and lenses as big as round plates. 

"Peter, are you seeing this?" 

"Yes, and I'm already coming up with some theories" you heard the fast-clicking sound of a keypad going on. "I can't have anything for sure and it's not like I can track back to any tabs on these guys... The best thing I can produce is for you to stick around and find out, but do not lower your guard" 

"I guess so" you said, simply taking in and accepting what was going on as you took speed and jumped, your legs pulling back and your arms stretching at a sharp angle behind your back. 

Your body flew, and you looked down to see Octavius struggling to stand up as the two new heroes faced him. 

Octavius stood up on all metal fours and he growled in rage, "Spider-Man!" his sights now focused on the blue and red hero. 

"You might want to look behind you, Doc"  

The smirk of the lady on the motorcycle and the cheekiness of the disguised man said it all. The dark silhouette of a shadow cast upon him was growing bigger, and Doc Ock turned his head. 

Your wrists extended and web shot from both. The silk rope attached itself to the upper shoulders of the metal limbs and you grasped the webs to pull yourself. With the help of force and acceleration, you delivered a powerful kick on the man’s back.  

Your attack was not meaningless, for your aim was set on the bright spot at the top near his nape. The power source, the connection of the exoskeleton with Octavius’ nervous system. 

A few sparks blew off, signaling your success in delivering the final blow. Well, that, and how the tentacles trembled before collapsing- dropping the mad man on the ground. 

“You!” he whipped his head, “You little- “his words were cut short by web sticking on his lips, sealing them shut. 

“Not a word more from you, please. I kinda had enough,” you exasperated and slumped your shoulders. Your hand rubbed on your head, a little bit of pain still lingering on the impacted area. 

You were about to web him up, this time making sure he would stay put, but the curly-haired woman halted you with her hand. With the other, she slid a disk across the floor which stopped in front of Octavius. Then, laser-like hexagons formed, one by one until the villain was encased fully. 

“Oh, well that’s nice. What is that?” 

“A portable prison we use to capture anomalies.” 

“Anomalies?” 

“People that stray from their original dimensions and pose a threat to the cannon.” 

“The cannon?” 'Geez, keeping up with this new information is hard'. Amid your confusion, the woman laughed. She was not laughing out in mockery, more like she had found your confusion endearing.  

She stretched out her hand for you to shake it, and hesitantly you did.  

“I am Jessica Drew, Spider-Woman, Earth-404.” 

“And I’m Peter B. Parker, the one and only Spiderman from Earth-616B” The man took off his mask, showing excited eyes and a warm smile as he stretched out his hand. The physical resemblance he had to your best friend was uncanny, well, he was him from another dimension, of course. The brown eyes and hazelnut hair, but he was much taller, certainly older and you could distinguish the outline of worked muscles below his spandex suit. 

“(Y/n), this is unbelievable...” but you ignored your friend through the comms as you were just as surprised as him, or even more. 

“Spider-Woman, I mean, (Y/n) (L/n), Earth… 

“Earth-699” Peter B Parker filled in for you, and you repeated his words, taking them in your mind. 

“Wait, wait… So, you are Spider-Women,” you glanced at Peter B. Parker, “Spider…people… sorry, from other dimensions?” you asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” and Jessica Drew hummed in approval of Peter B’s words. 

“And, and you! I know you! Well, I know you in this world. He’s my best friend, and my back-up” the other Peter chuckled. 

“Ooh, the classic back-at-the-chair guy?” his eyebrow twitched in curiosity. “Feels like a demotion though…” 

“Hey!" 

You giggled at his antics, "Trust me, you are very cool in this dimension too. Without him, I would not be Spider-Woman". Your warm smile and noble words caught the brown eyes of Jessica, and for a moment, she stared right at your own not long after her and the other Peter -you will call him Peter. B- shared silent eye contact which spoke volumes between them. Then they both smiled, and Jessica Drew giggled, "This one is yours; I have already recruited a lot. Miguel will bite my head off if I bring in one more" 

"Right, right, you just want to make me be the one to ask him" 

Confused about what they were talking about and who, you were about to ask them before Peter B spoke first.  

"So, we like you- my spider-sense can already tell me you are an amazing hero, (Y/n). Do you want to join us? And the rest of Spiders, a spider-society of our own if you are interested." 

People just like you? Your heart began to beat fast with joy and excitement, this, this was amazing. If there is a whole society of other people, of other You's, Peter B's, and Jessica's, with their own hero journeys, spider-suits, spider-abilities, and voices to be heard- you wanted all in. 

"I'm in!" you exclaimed, physically jumping at the opportunity. The afro spider-woman hopped back on her motorbike, you saw her fiddle with a bracelet on her wrist, a slick white-metal watch of sorts, and the same orange glow from before emerged. This time, you took a closer look- it was a portal, a hexagonal electric-orange portal made of rings.  

Peter B. hopped on behind Jessica, and he looked back behind at you and beckoned you closer with his hand, patting the space left on the leather seat. You smiled wide below the mask and rushed your feet to the vehicle, hopping on. 

"You know it's almost two in the morning and we have work tomorrow, right?" Your Peter's voice sounded. You groaned, "Yes, don't wait for me. Also, didn't take my keys so leave the window open please" 

"Again? Girl, I-" but Peter heard the roaring of an engine and the sound of screeching tires before the loud beep signaling the end of the intercommunication device and he cursed under his breath. He shut down the three-screen PC and kicked his feet to distance the chair from the desk, drawing a large sigh from his lips. He stood up, revealing his pajama set and house coat, and very fluffy set of Spider-Woman slippers you had gifted him jokingly, [wearing unofficial merch of your vigilante best-friend was weirdly hilarious, but they were too comfortable and soft to pass]. He walked toward the living rooms' window, thank God you two were on the seventh floor, and pulled off the lock.  

"One of these days I swear I will lock her out, so she begins taking her goddamn keys", he grunted in between teeth. He dragged the palm of his hand down his features, squeezing down his cheeks and wrinkling them. He glanced at the dreadful hour, led bright numbers making out 1:50 AM.  

'As long as I get in bed before two...' Despite the petty annoyance this occurrence caused, he could not help but crack a smile.  

He looked out the window and observed the city lights, contemplating the night. 

You were incredible to Peter, your best friend. Sometimes he wished NYC were more grateful for the protection your courageous and self-risking services lent. Although he was aware they were out of your heart.  

Peter took a long, loud sip of his mug of tea. It was halfway cold. As he drank and emptied the contents of his cup, Peter wondered. 

"Who is going to protect you when you are too busy protecting others, (Y/n)", his worrisome thoughts were vocalized. Part of why Peter helped you back to the chair was because of this because he was worried about you. Of course, it felt nice and gratifying to put his own grains of sand in the jar of NYC's safety, protecting citizens and loved ones alike, but deep-down Peter felt powerless. 

What if one day someone manages to best you, or you mess with the worst of people? Someone you will not be able to defeat, someone like you? The possibilities, the enemies, could be endless. After what tonight's events revealed the existence stirred something within him, call it his Parker-Sense [turns out there is a Peter Parker who is a Spider-Man as well in another universe- he will have to ask you more about it, tomorrow.]. 

He placed the cup down on the coffee table beside the heater, casting aside his worries along it. Peter knew he could do nothing but help from back of the front lines- he could only hope the gadgets and suits he designed for you would help you in your quest and help you make it back home every night. 

You raised your arms as if you were on the best rollercoaster ride in the world whilst you travelled through the fabric of time and space. It was fast and short, but breathtaking. There was not enough time to process what you had just experienced as you crossed through a flash of light. 

As the flash dispersed, you noticed your surroundings. You found yourself inside a big, big building. Although the design was minimalistic, and the color grey was dominating, you made out figures of diverse colors. 

Not figures, people. 

And not regular people, people like you- spider people. 

Hundreds of them, walking, chatting, hanging around. On the floor, on the ceiling, on the walls, all around the unorganized columns that stretched everywhere in every direction. 

Your spider-sense had already caught up with the gig, because your mind has surprisingly not fallen apart.  

"Welcome to HQ, this is the lobby" Peter B. announced. 

A simple 'woah' was all you could muster as your lenses widened. Jessica hopped off her motorbike and stored it in a pocket-size gadget, somehow but it does not surprise you, and she tapped on your wrist. She handed you a purple bracelet, "It's a one-day pass, it allows you to stay here without glitching. You may have seen it happen to that stray Doc Ock". 

‘So, he was glitching, huh.’ 

You hung the bracelet around your wrist and secured it tight, you guessed glitching was not very comfortable and you did not really want to find out for yourself. Once you put it on, she smiled and turned on her heels, gesturing to you with her head to follow her. 

"We got to go girl, can't keep Miguel waiting." 

"Miguel?" you enquired.  

"Miguel O' Hara" Peter B answered for her as he began to walk beside you "the man behind this society. This-", he twirled around and raised his hands in contemplation as the three of you walked, "-was all his idea. He is the leader, it's thanks to him that we are all able to protect and maintain every dimension stable".  

'Well, he sounds like a cool guy- I should probably meet him if I'm around here, want to make a good first impression’ 

"He can also come off as intimidating and harsh, but he's got no bite. He just has a little bit of fang to show, no more. So don't be scared or feel intimidated".  

'Or not', you gulped.  

Something about the sweet tone in Peter B’s voice, like he had given this disclaimer a couple of times before, slightly unsettled you- but you hid your nervousness behind a small chuckle. 

As Jessica lead the way, or Jess as she insisted you call her, you 'toured' the facilities- a cafeteria with spider-themed food, a gym fit for training the super-strengthen, a villain-confinement area in which you found yourself mesmerized by the different versions of villains you had faced [which was a slightly awkward experience as you tried to ignore the daggers that were coming out from that Doc Ock's eyes and threatened to destroy the barrier that imprisoned him]. You even got to know of a therapy room, which could always come in handy later, who knows. You must make sure to swing by the cafeteria later and try out that Spider-Burger, and certainly try out the super/human equipment in the training center [it is not your usual friendly-neighborhood gym that has a leg press machine loaded with the weight of a train]. 

It was crazy- Peter B. and Jess told you everything about this place. They talked about the multiverse, and how everyone is connected through key moments in their lives as 'Spiders' through cannon events- which were more or less significant events that would shape their paths as heroes, some good, some bad, and some very bad- but all of them necessary. 

The death of your parents. Although you would never get over it, and the belief that you could have done something if you hadn’t been so powerless at that time was still rooted deep within your heart- but the fact that it was destined to happen as part of your life as Spider-Woman brought you some relief, because you felt as if it was not entirely your fault alone. They were cannon events in your life as Spider-Woman, and nothing was supposed to prevent them. 

It was bittersweet- it made you feel understood. Even though you had your own best friend who you could rely on, and you knew you could tell him everything, you also knew he would not understand. There is a great responsibility that comes with this power, and with its burdens, and inner battles that make you feel alone in the struggle, but not anymore. 

You are not alone, you are not the one and only Spider-Woman, and that made you feel you could find other people to bare this struggle with. 

The 'Spider' Peter continued with the explanation, "-- and that's why anomalies are so dangerous, and we have to deal with them, because they can break the cannon and thus destroy the fabric of the dimension that has been disturbed, and with it, millions of lives." 

In cue with the end of his talk, Jess and Peter B. halted their steps. "We're here" she said and pointed with her gaze to move forward. So, you did, you took a step forward. 

Your eyes took in the room, it was dark, and the ceiling was tall. There was a platform in the middle of it, and the orange light was abundant. Atop the platform was a man standing, his wide back facing and disheveled strands of hair facing you- he seemed busy, and too concentrated on the dozens of holographic screens surrounding him. 

There was a loud silence in the room, until Jess nudged Peter B with her elbow, and he blurted, "Okay, okay, lemme’ just" he adjusted the collar of his suit, as if it were too tight on him. He breathed in, calming down his nerves, which made you more nervous because why would he be?  

"Hey! Miguel!" his voice echoed through the room, and he waved eagerly at the man above. It was a slight movement, but you noticed how this 'Miguel' threw his head back and sighed loudly- it was clear that he was annoyed by the interruption. 

"Que ganas de molestar... What is it?!" The first part of his sentence was barely audible, but he made sure to raise his voice for the words that came out in English. His body was now facing the three of you, hands rested on his hips, and body weight slumped on his right leg. 

From that height, he seemed as if he was looking down on you... 

"Give me a minute, (Y/n), you see he looks tough, but he is really easy to crack" Peter B attempted to reassure you, earning a roll of the eyes of Jess which you barely dismissed, and he webbed a corner of the platform and pulled himself up to it. 

Peter B's physical gestures were funny and full of movement, while the man remained stiff and stoic. You could not hear the conversation well, they were meters above you, but you guessed they were talking about you-- 

"C'mon Miguel, she's amazing really, we could use a helping hand and-" 

"There's lots of helping hands already" 

"Yes, but the more the merrier right? I am serious, you're not going to regret it, I've seen her, and Jess too" 

Their talk continued for a few minutes, but then you saw Peter B clinging on to the man's shoulder and you saw him turn his head, mouthing the words 'all right.' 

Proving your guess to be true, you saw Peter B smile widely and he walked towards the edge of the platform, "Y/N! Climb up here!" He called out to you and gestured with his hand, and you did just as he did a few minutes ago. Before you could pull yourself, however, Jess tugged lightly at your mask. 

"You should probably take that off, you don't want to be rude in your first day before the boss, right?" she chuckled. "You're right," you nodded and proceeded with her advice. Your fingers slid under the mask and hooked at its hem, you tugged upwards. Your (h/c) strands cascaded down and bounced on your shoulders, and you revealed a curious set of (e/c) eyes and (s/c) skin. 

Jess ran her hands through your hair, quickly fixing it- after being pressed down by the mask it had a little bit of frizz to it, "You're looking great, now go get that job girl" and she turned you around by the shoulders and patted your back in support. 

You smiled and blushed, a little bit of confidence surging within you, you were nervous. 

[His gaze, something about it, it made you uncomfortable. You did not think much of it, putting the blame on the towering height the platform provided.] 

You twisted your fist around the web, and swung yourself and pulled down with strength, propelling yourself upwards. You made sure to land with grace on the platform, you really wanted to land yourself that good first impression. 

"Here she is," Peter B dragged on the sound of the vowels, as if presenting some grand entrance, he walked behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders. Quickly, Peter B hunched and whispered encouraging words in your ear- 

"You'll do great," he said softly against your ear. You offered a small smile and walked out of his hold, facing the man before you two. 

'Well, damn' you said loudly in your mind. If when you were below this man seemed intimidating, now up close, it was ten times more so. He had a big build, broad shoulders and clear, lined brick muscles under his cyber-punk blue and red suit. His forearms left his hips and were flexed below his broad chest, highlighting the muscles in his arms even more. You looked up to his face and gulped. 

He had a chiseled, handsome, tanned face- his jaw was sharp and so was his wide nose, his cheekbones were high and his eyebrows thick and straight, giving him a mature look. Your guess was that he was somewhere in his 30's, and by the look in his fierce yet tired eyes evinced by the bags under them, you guessed he had also gone through a lot (not like you will pry about it now, that seemed like a death wish for sure). 

Were you staring for too long? You did not notice, at least not until the man before you grunted and shot raised his eyebrows, tilting his face to the side as if granting you the permission to speak. 

You also heard Peter B. cough, not so casually. 

"Uhm, hi! I," you smiled widely, only to earn a slight judgmental look from him, 'oh my god, this is going to be harder than it looks.' To recover from that small awkward moment, you offered you hand to shake it and rephrased, "Hello, I'm (Y/n) (L/n) and I'm Spider-Woman from Earth-699, or so I've been told." 

You recomposed your breath and stance, shoulders and back straightened, trying to come off as confident and polite. "I met Peter B. Parker and Jessica Drew on my night patrol, and it was quite a surprise, but a nice one. They told me everything about this place, and about the multiverse," unbeknownst to you, the glint in your eyes as your excitement began to slip past the professional facade caught his eyes, "and let me tell you I would be more than glad to join the team, it would be an amazing opportunity, and a responsibility I would be more than glad to take over". 

Miguel could tell you were not lying, albeit he could tell you were nervous and a bit fidgety, but your tongue rolled not honeyed words, but ones that were sincere. He genuinely appreciated that. 

Your hand was still outstretched when he called out for his trusted A.I, "Lyla", and with simply calling out her name, it appeared. 

A tiny orange holograph of a person appeared right before you, at the edge of your nose to be precise, like a playful fairy. She wore an oversize coat and fashionable boots, and distinctive pink heart-shaped glasses. 

"Hello!" She greeted, and you were slightly caught off guard. You were about to greet back, but she vanished, and reappeared on your shoulder, and then again, and she reappeared on your other shoulder, and again- this time above you. Your sight tried to follow her, but to no avail as she vanished and materialized, yet you did catch a glimpse of these round devices she had with her which bathed you, in yet again, orange light.  

"Scanning complete!" she announced and appeared for a final time on Miguel's shoulder. "Let's see... Indeed, from Earth-699, and with an excellent track record of ten years! Her cannon remains intact, and if you ask me, she seems to be an excellent candidate."  

"Oh, thanks...?" You were not sure what to say, how could she know all that? It was a heck of an artificial intelligence, nothing you had witnessed back at home, even with Pete's genius, and she even winked at you. She was sentient, that was mind blowing. 

Whatever Lyla, as you recalled, showed Miguel seemed to be some sort of CV. He was looking through a holographic tab, and you managed to see a few mirrored images of you and your New York, recognizing frames and scenes from your life and the people you had come across. As he scrolled down through the screen, he kept taking glances at you, as if corroborating the information, while you just stood there with a bright smile and relaxed features in your face- although you were panicking on the inside. 

The tanned man closed the tab and redirected his gaze on you, his dark eyes piercing right through yours, but his features relaxed and he even offered a small smile.  

"My name is Miguel O' Hara," a smooth, Spanish accent evident on his first name, "and I'm this universe's Spiderman, Earth-2099." He stretched out his own hand, offering it to you and you shook it- his grip was strong and secure, and his hand enclosed over your smaller one. 

He retrieved his hand, but he kept it open, his palm facing up while he showed it to you. A bracelet began to materialize on it. After a few seconds, the materializing process was complete, and you noticed the same device Peter B. and Jess had on their wrists. 

"It's a travelling gizmo, used for hopping to other dimensions without glitching" the A.I filled in. You took it carefully from Miguel's hands, and with the same manner, you slid it on your wrist- it was a perfect fit.  

After the click sound, you admired it for a few seconds before Miguel spoke again, "You are part of the club now."  

His features fell back to a strict, but calm, look on his face, and he continued, "You'll be called for missions through the gizmo, nothing for today but be sure to answer on time. I do not like it when people are late for work", he said harshly, and you nodded. 

"See, I told you it would work out!" the 'professional' atmosphere was cut short by Peter B, who seemed excited as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. "She won't disappoint Miguel, I'm sure of it." He said as he smiled at Miguel, and you noticed how his features fell flat upon Peter B, however you could not help a giggle escape from your lips. 

"Yes, I'll make sure of that", you looked at Peter and smiled, and repeated the same affection with Miguel, who widened his eyes but recomposed quickly, covering for any slip-ups.  

"Well if everything is settled then, I'll be leaving." Peter B. patted your shoulders simultaneously "I have a little girl and a beautiful wife waiting for me, back home." The words that came out of the Spider' Peter made your eyes widen and your mouth dropped open,  

"You are married?! And have a child?!" 

"Yes, they are the most wonderful people on Earth!" he said giddily, then he quirked his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips, he sounded quizzical "Why do you sound so surprised though?" 

"No, no, I'm just very curious- as you are the other version of my best friend. So, who's the lucky girl?" you enquired, still not believing it.

"Mary Jane, I don't know if you know her in your dimension," he said with a warm tone in his voice, you could tell by the way he spoke about her that he was really in love with her. Of course, you knew Mary Jane, or MJ as you called her. She was a close friend of yours, and Pete, and the main subject of your teasing against him. In your dimension, Peter is so in love with MJ but has yet to gather the courage to face her and take her out on a date. 

You laughed, "My Peter would be blushing mad right now. He has yet to take her out on a date and make his move", your words made Peter B remember of the past, and he chuckled. 

"Any advice I could relay to him? I want to be the best wingman there is" 

"Just tell him to be himself, it'll work out. Ooh, but be sure to tell him he must be on time when he arranges any dates! It will save him a lot of trouble!" 

"I'll make sure to tell him", you giggled. Then Peter B proceeded to take out his cellphone and show you pictures of his baby daughter, MJ. You could not help but gush alongside him, she was adorable, with her funny faces, the pictures of her playing around and in little outfits, and as she was doing little mischiefs [you swore right there and then that when the time comes, you would be the coolest auntie ever]

You continued to fangirl over the baby photos until Miguel O'Hara interrupted the both of you, "It's getting late, the both of you. "  

His face said it all- the poker face, and flat lips, he looked tired. Hence you bid farewell, Lyla sat on your shoulder as she helped you with the interface of the gizmo. You managed to open a portal back to your home dimension and bid the corresponding farewells before jumping back home. 

"So, I get that you did like her?" 

Miguel grunted, "Como sea, el tiempo lo dira. Go home Peter, I can't stand you any longer".  

Seeing that Miguel was already switching back to his grumpy humor, Peter B raised his hands in the air. "Geez, Miguel, cut me some slack" and turned around, not before making a portal to his own dimension. With his hands still raised in the air, he teased, "You'll end up scaring the new recruit" and jumped back into the portal before he could face an even grumpier Miguel. 

"Ese insufrible hijo de-" 

"He's kinda right though" 

"Lyla!" 

"See? Geez, you're going to get even more wrinkles..." 

The A.I vanished out of Miguel's clawed swipe, and sticked out her tongue in mockery as the man growled. 

Surprisingly, instead of landing on the hard concrete floor, you landed on the soft surface of what you recognized to be your own bed, and you made a mental note to remind yourself to thank Lyla.  

"Ah, right, the window", you recalled you had told Pete to leave it open, so you went out to the living room and put on its lock. The living room was dark, it had the faint glow of NYC's night. It was a pleasant surprise for you thought you would be arriving at dawn, but it was not the case- you would get more sleep. 

"Five hours of sleep are still better than one" you mumbled and retrieved the used mug left on the coffee table, which you then rinsed in the sink- a small favor for your guy in the chair. 

At last, you took off your suit and after doing your nightly bathroom routine, you plopped on the bed. Sleep caught up with you quickly, it had been a busy and long night- you only hoped you would listen to your alarm in the morning and be able to get to work. 

You shifted in your bed and cuddled into your pillow, your lips parted and let own a drowsy yawn, "I'll have to tell everything to Pete tomorrow" and with that, you closed your eyes. 

Although tired and sleepy, you could not help the fuzzy feeling in your chest- you were so happy for what was to come, hoping for the best. You could not wait to be back at headquarters, but you guess, it will have to wait until tomorrow in the least. For now, you would have to settle for some hours of sleep. 

A/n: EVERYONE THANK YOU SO MUCH! Part I is about to reach 2k notes and I can't believe I now have 1k followers, truly, thank you so much. Thank you to all the people that have reblogged and commented, I can't express how thankful I am truly. I also want to apologize for the delay, I had a hard writer's block as regards Miguel's introduction, I wanted it to be perfect, and it still not is. I also wanted to give reader a good backbone for the story. Anyway, Part III follows suit and with it the yandere! (yes! finally- I know people can get impatient for it bc it happens to me too). Anyways, I hope you like this part, and I am looking forward for your opinions!

Translations: (Btw, I am Argentinean, not Mexican, so I do speak castellano or spanish, but not mexican-slang spanish. I hope my Mexican readers are cool with the way Miguel speaks!) "Que ganas de molestar..." = So bothersome/ so annoying, or literally 'such need to bother' "Como sea, el tiempo lo dira." = Anyway/Anyhow, time will tell. "Ese insufrible hijo de-" = That insufferable son of a-

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

ℭ𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔡!𝔗𝔬𝔧𝔦 𝔵 ℭ𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢 𝔘𝔰𝔢𝔯!ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀

Summary: When Toji is contracted to kill you, he doesn't expect this to be how the situation turns out. He really should have read your file before the hunt...

Warnings: gratuitous smut, no real plot, porn without plot, toji is whipped for reader, mentions of murder, toji is contracted to kill reader.

A/N: In the words of the great poetess Megan Thee Stallion, "Men are objects to me."

Thank you to @ominouslywritinginmyhead for doing such a quick job of proofing this.

As always likes and reblogs are appreciated 🩷

Toji couldn’t remember how many times he had come close to the edge only to be harshly pulled back from it again. 

He had been chased by a curse while trying to hunt you down. A curse that zapped him of his strength and rendered him unable to move. Unable to use his weapons to, not only defend himself but also to attack and kill you. 

You, more beautiful than he’d expected – the pictures shown to him didn’t do you justice. You, more dangerous than he’d expected – the file he hadn’t read about you not properly disclosing your abilities. You. 

Now you sat above him, skirt bunched around your waist, pumping your swollen pussy onto him, over and over as he pleaded and whimpered.

“Please doll, don’t. Please let me come this time…Fuck–” 

But all you did was smirk at him and continue, slowly drawing out each movement, each slow thrust. 

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to do whatever I liked with you, Toji?” you quipped back. 

Toji felt lost. You had both his arms pinned above his head with just one of yours. Your cursed technique that had made him kneel in front of you and beg for his life hadn’t done this. No, this was all you. Your scent, your eyes, your gorgeous body. Toji felt like he had never seen a woman so alluring. And here you were, on top of him. Doing exactly what he’d begged you to. 

Your full plump lips parted and he watched as they formed words that he couldn’t understand, his ears instead, filled with the sound of his rushing blood. “You promise, right? You won't come after me again if I let you finish?” 

“Fuck—please doll, I need you…” 

But you pouted and stilled your hips. “I need to hear you, Toji...I need you to promise.” Toji desperately bucked his hips up, trying to create any stimulation that would help him reach his climax, but you were too strong, slamming him down with your own thrust. “Promise me, Toji.” 

“Fuck, woman – you’re killing me.” But all the man could do was moan under you, tiny tears squeezing out of his closed eyes. Your small hands pinned him down with ease. You kissed his forehead, deliberately pushing your breasts into his face and driving him wild. 

“Tojiiii…” You drawled. “I’m not fucking you properly until you promise me…” As if to make your point, you leaned forward on his chest, just about rubbing your clit against the base of his dick. 

Toji could have cried. His arms didn’t work anymore, so no matter how much he wanted to lift you and slam you onto his cock, he couldn’t. His legs felt so wobbly that even if he wanted to pin you against a wall and take you like a virgin, he was convinced they would give out. “Fuck you, demon woman! Fine. I promise…I’m not going to kill you! I don’t care how much they offer me, just please help me cum!” 

Your pussy was wet and weeping now. The stimulation from just rubbing your clit against him had done wonders for you. You raised your torso off him with a giggle and said, “See, now that wasn’t so hard!” Toji could only grunt in reply before you pumped his cock, pussy holding him in a vice-like grip despite the ample lubrication dripping from it. 

“’M gonna come, doll,” he groaned, hips thrusting up to meet yours in a wet slap. 

Your hand cupped his cheek. “I think I’m close too. Will you come with me, Toji?”  He nodded. “Fuck– just a little more, Toji… Good boy. Fuck– come with me!”

“Shit, baby, I’m coming. Fuck, take my cock like that-god.” His release painted your insides as he came with a cry. You collapsed onto his torso, the two of you slowly riding out your highs, both coming down gently, feather-like. 

When you looked up, Toji was smiling at you half dazed. His chest lifted you with each deep breath. You quickly pulled yourself off him, leaving a little kiss on the scar at the edge of his mouth. Your panties were ruined…he’d torn them apart when he’d initially thrust into you, so you smoothened out your skirt and turned to him – still lying on the forest floor where you had first caught him – and said, “Well, I’ll be off then! See you around Toji – or better yet, not!”

“Wait!” he yelled, “At least undo the fucking curse you put on me, you minx! I can’t move!” 

“Oh, that?” You giggled, “The effects of my curse only last for about five minutes, Toji.”

AN: I just wanna make mean man cry ok. :)

[bwabys-scenarios]

Fixer Upper

Part 1

Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

part 2

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

A/N: new series inspired by my perv!kurapika HC!! I’m not sure how long it will be, but I hope y’all will enjoy it!! He won’t be a huge perv at first, he still hasn’t had his sexual awakening. This series will be full of smut/spicy content, so be aware!!

Kurapika tried to catch his breathing as he hid behind a garbage can, gasping out in pain.

His current mission was a dangerous one and had nearly resulted in the loss of his arm. Right now, he held the bloody gash and gritted his teeth. Kurapika had the scarlet eyes, but his mission was far from over.

“I think he went that way!”

Kurapika his his presence and pulled his legs to his chest, making himself as small as possible to avoid detection.

They passed the alleyway by, the Kurta holding his breath until he couldn’t hear their footsteps any longer.

He let out a relieved sigh, shaking some of the blood from his hand and opening his phone. He sent Leorio a quick text saying his mission was nearly over, knowing how worried his friend had been.

Now, Kurapika only had to worry about finding somewhere to hide while he recovered.

But where?

He didn’t know anyone in this city, he’d never been here before. Except…

A memory came rushing back to his mind, the blonde frowning.

“You always have a place with me, Kurapika. Here’s my number.”

If he wasn’t holding his injured arm to try and stop the bleeding, he may have slapped a hand onto his forehead.

Yes, she lived here. He’d forgotten.

Kurapika scrolled through his contacts, clicking her name and scrolling through the limited messages the two had sent each other.

She’d given him her address if he ever wanted to stop by, saying he was welcome anytime.

He just hoped (Name) wouldn’t mind him getting blood all over her floor.

—————

Finding her house wasn’t easy.

She lived on the opposite side of town, in a secluded neighborhood framed by a small patch of woodland.

Although he was thankful it was far enough away that the people searching for him wouldn’t think to look there, he was still grumpy.

Kurapika couldn’t really help that. The more he moved the more blood he lost. When he finally stepped onto her porch, he had to lean against a wall for support.

He knocked on the door quickly, wincing at the sight of blood smearing the white surface.

“Coming!”

If Kurapika wasn’t nearly doubled over in pain and bleeding out, he may have been excited to hear her voice.

The girl opened the door shortly after.

It had been a while since he’d seen her, nearly two years. The last time was in York New, when she and the others had been there to support him as he attempted to avenge his clan.

He could still remember the feeling of her hands pushing his hair back, the sound of her concerned voice reaching his ears.

“Kurapika?”

The girl in front of him hadn’t changed much, besides having (shorter/longer) hair.

“Are you… oh god are you bleeding?”

He didn’t answer, stumbling inside and collapsing on the floor.

“Jesus Christ!”

(Name) kneeled down next to him, turning him so he was lying on his back.

Kurapika’s breath came out in rapid bursts, his eyes darting between (Name) and his arm.

“Hey, take deep breaths, it’s alright. I’m gonna get you into bed.”

She hooked her arm under his good one and pulled him to his feet. Kurapika leaned his weight against her, allowing her to lead him into a dark room.

“Okay, I’m going to set you down.”

She lied him down on the bed, not caring about the blood staining her sheets. She pushed her sleeves back and stood, moving to the other side of the bed to have access to his injured arm.

‘What… is she doing?’

(Name) pulled his sleeve back, wincing at the sight. “What happened to you, Kurapika?”

“… stabbed.”

“Well, I figured that much… I mean what situation were you in to get stabbed?”

When he didn’t answer, (Name) sighed. “Okay, we can talk about this later. Just…”

She placed her hand on his wound. “You’re going to pass out.”

That was the last thing he heard before blacking out.

———————

Kurapika woke up to the feeling of sunlight shining onto his face. His eyes blinked open slowly, his good arm reaching up to shield them.

‘Where… where am I?’

He surveyed his surroundings, using In to see if there was anyone near.

Kurapika sensed two auras besides his own, both of them familiar.

He looked down to see his tabard and undershirt had been removed, replaced by a plain white tshirt. His injured arm had been bandaged and the pain had faded.

‘(Name) must of done this…’

His hand grazed his arm, his eyes softening ever so slightly.

Kurapika stood up, wincing at the soreness in his legs. The blonde opened the door to the room he was in.

“Yeah I think- wait did that door just open?”

Kurapika stepped out of the doorway, being greeted by the smell of eggs and bacon cooking on the stove.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

(Name) waved from the kitchen, a familiar white haired boy sat at the counter on a tall stool.

Oh, right. He was at (Name)’s house.

“… good morning.”

Kurapika walked over, sitting down next to the boy. Said boy raised an eyebrow, turning to get a better look.

“Kurapika!?”

“Killua?”

The two stared at each other, Killua pointing at him. “When the hell did you get here?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

“I live here! Now answer my question!”

He lived with (Name)?

Kurapika glanced at (Name), asking for help with his eyes.

“He got here about 24 hours ago, at night.”

Kurapika blinked. He didn’t think he’d been out that long.

“Okay, okay. Why is he here though?”

(Name) shrugged. “I’m not completely sure, when he got here he was bleeding out on my doorstep.”

Killua huffed. “Oh, so he’s not here visiting.”

Kurapika rubbed his temple. Did he have to ask so many questions when Kurapika was having trouble remembering his own name?

“You haven’t talked with (Name) in what, years? And the first time you decide to show your face is because you needed something.”

“Killua!”

Killua straightened up at the sound of (Name)’s voice. “There’s no need for all that. I offered up my home to all of you if you needed it.”

She placed a plate of food in front of the young boy, walking back and grabbing one for Kurapika as well.

“Now, eat up, Kurapika. You lost a lot of blood.”

The man knew Killua was right. Kurapika had been purposefully ignoring her, for reasons even he couldn’t completely comprehend.

He decided to listen, lifting a piece of bacon to his mouth and taking a bite. After the first bite, he realized just how hungry he was.

Kurapika shoveled scrambled eggs into his mouth, not caring too much about the taste. When was the last time he’d stopped to eat a full meal? Was it 3 or 4 days ago?

“Slow down, you’re going to choke.”

While he wasn’t paying attention, (Name) had snuck closer, placing a cup of orange juice in front of him. Ironically, her words spooked him into choking, the man coughing before downing the juice in one gulp.

“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in days.” Killua said before munching on a handful of Froot Loops.

“That’s because I haven’t. I’ve been busy.”

(Name) sat down in front of them, taking a bite of her own breakfast. “You should try to eat three square meals a day. You need fuel for your body.”

He didn’t reply, standing up and walking to the stove to get seconds.

“How long is he staying?”

Kurapika’s eyebrow twitched. Why didn’t Killua just ask him?

“Oh, I’m not sure. As long as he needs to.”

“Just until I recover.”

The two looked up at Kurapika. He sat back down, starting on his second helping. “I’ll be gone within a few days to a week at most. Sorry for the trouble.”

(Name) leaned her cheek against her hand, elbow on the table. “You’re no trouble at all, I’m happy to see you again.”

This was one of the reasons Kurapika hadn’t contacted her. He remembered why he had trouble speaking with her.

She was way too nice, and he didn’t like how it made him feel.

Soft.

“Thank you. I’ll make sure to reimburse you.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “No need. I don’t take money from friends.”

Killua sighed. “Don’t try to argue, she doesn’t listen to reason.”

(Name) scowled at him. “Rude.”

———————

Kurapika put his plate in the sink, watching the two from the corner of his eye. They were talking about something mundane, (Name) seemingly more passionate about the topic.

“Oh!”

(Name) turned away from Killua, giving Kurapika a smile. “I washed your tabard, and it’s drying right now. I did it by hand because I wasn’t sure if it was washing machine safe.”

“It is, but I appreciate your help.”

He suddenly remembered what happened right before he passed out.

“(Name)?”

“Yes?”

“What… what is your nen ability?”

She grinned. “I can heal people. Technically, I just speed up the recovery process going on in your cells, so it takes a lot of your stamina to heal. You didn’t have a lot the other night, so you passed out. It’s most likely why you slept so long.”

That made sense. (Name) had always been the soft, motherly type. Of course her power would be that of a healer. That was why his arm wasn’t hurting as much as it should.

“I see. Thank you, (Name).”

“No problem, hun.”

Oh dear, another reason he didn’t speak to her. She was quite fond of pet names, and although they didn’t make him uncomfortable per say, it did make him feel… something.

“Kurapika.”

Killua folded his arms against his chest, staring the blonde down. “What happened for you to get so injured?”

“I was stabbed-“

“I mean what situation you were in.”

Kurapika could swear he’d had this conversation before.

“I had a mission. To collect the scarlet eyes.”

“And?”

“That’s all.”

Killua groaned, (Name) pushing herself up and taking her plate to the sink. “You really should be more careful, Kurapika. You nearly gave me a heart attack when you showed up bleeding all over my porch.”

“… sorry.”

He hadn’t meant to worry her. It was one of the many reasons he worked alone, he hated making other people worry about him.

“Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re alright.”

She patted his back. “Now, why don’t you rest. You’ll need at least another day until your stamina is recovered.”

He nodded and walked back to his room, closing the door behind him.

It was never easy being with her for too long. Ever since the Hunter Exam, she’d been someone he struggled to be around for longer than necessary.

She smelled good, she was nice, and always made his head feel fuzzy.

And he hated it.

He had trouble concentrating on his mission when his thoughts kept drifting to her. How she was doing, where she was, if she was okay. It was all he could think about after leaving York New.

But now it was near impossible to ignore her. Maybe he should have taken his chances with the thugs that had been chasing him.

As he watched the ceiling fan spin above him, he told himself he needed to leave as soon as possible. For both his and (Name)’s own good.

He didn’t want to hurt her again.

——————

Kurapika awoke to a knock on his door, (Name) opening it up and walking in with her hands full.

“I brought your bag and clothes! If you write down your sizing I can go and grab you some spare outfits when I go shopping tomorrow.”

Kurapika sat up, pulling the bag into his lap. He peered inside, visibly relaxing when his eyes met those of the scarlet eyes. It was strange, you’d think he’d have felt anguish or anger at the sight of his clan’s dismembered eyes, but it felt familiar. Safe.

“I will accompany you.”

She tilted her head. “Are you sure? Didn’t you say you were stabbed in town?”

“Yes, but they have most likely left by now. They probably assumed I skipped town.”

(Name) sat on the edge of his bed, the man stiffening ever so slightly. “I see. Well, I’m glad your mission was a success. What are you planning to do next?”

He zipped up the backpack, placing it on the floor next to his bed. “I’ll find more information on either the Spiders or the scarlet eyes until I find one or the other. I’ll continue until I’m finished or dead.”

He said this so seriously, his aura determined. (Name) sighed.

“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that. You shouldn’t throw your life away.”

He scowled, his fingers brushing against the bandages on his arm.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I will not stop until my clan has been avenged. I have no other purpose, that is my goal.”

It always hurt to see (Name)’s face twist into one of sadness when he stated his mission. She’d heard these words before, though more harsh the last time.

“I know, I know. Just…”

She placed a hand on his leg, squeezing lightly. “Just know that we care about you, okay? We all worry, so please, be careful.”

With that, she stood up and approached the door. “The shower is open if you need one. I just set out some towels.”

He nodded, not meeting her eye.

“Dinner is in an hour.”

She opened the door and closed it behind her.

‘I’m doing it again. I’m worrying her.’

Kurapika shook the memory of their last meeting from his head. He didn’t want to think about that right now.

He took up her offer about 15 minutes later, seeing a fluffy towel next to the shower ready for use.

There were only two sets of soap, one set being (Name)’s, and the others Killua’s.

He didn’t want to know how Killua would react if he used his, so he used (Name)’s. It was a soft, fruity scent, soothing his anxious mind as he rubbed it into his skin.

When he left the shower, he draped a towel over his shoulders, leaving his hair wet. He hadn’t dried his hair in years, never having the time.

He wish he had when (Name) came rushing over when he excited, scolding him.

“Kurapika, you’re going to get a cold. Sit!”

It was hard to argue when you’re being dragged and pushed into a sitting position.

“You have such pretty hair, you know.”

Kurapika sighed. Was his hair really that pretty now? It had been a while since he’d properly washed it. He’d take quick showers, just scrubbing it with whatever soap he could get his hands on before exciting the shower as quickly as possible.

She ran leave in conditioner through his locks, humming to herself as she combed through the knots in his hair. Her touch was gentle, much more gentle than his own.

When was the last time someone had been so close to him without trying to kill him? Even knowing (Name) wouldn’t hurt him, he still felt tense with her near. It felt unnatural, uncanny almost to have someone’s touch be so gentle and caring.

“All done. We’ll get you your own hair wash tomorrow, alright?”

He nodded in response. Kurapika just wanted her to stop touching him. He didn’t want to get used to being treated kindly. It made him soft, and that was dangerous for a man like him.

“You’ve been so quiet today. You alright?”

Kurapika jumped. He hadn’t expected her face to be so close when he turned at the sound of her voice.

“I’m… I’m just tired. Don’t worry too much.”

‘Please. It only makes it harder for me.’

He scooted away from her, turning his attention to the TV.

There was a random anime playing, Kurapika noticing Killua sat in a beanbag chair watching along and snickering.

“I’m going to work on dinner, you two be good, alright? That means you, Killua.”

She sent him a look and stood up, walking in the direction of the kitchen. Once she was out of earshot, Killua’s smile faded.

“Why did you think coming here after what you said to her is okay?”

“Excuse me?”

Killua rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. I’m talking about the last time you two were together. It upset her a lot, you know.”

Kurapika didn’t answer. He had no excuse, not able to look Killua in the eye.

“I said what needed to be said. I stated only the truth.”

Killua scowled. “I don’t care if it was the truth. She cried for days, Kurapika. Days. She was inconsolable.”

Kurapika stiffened and bit his lip. “It’s none of your business what happens between me and her. She seems fine now.”

‘God I’m such an asshole. She cried? I made her cry?’

Killua blinked, a look of confusion on his face. “None of my business? Are you insane? You’re my friend, you’re SUPPOSED to be her friend, if it’s anyone’s business it’s mine. Is she only worth your time when you need something from her?”

Kurapika didn’t answer. Killua scoffed, standing up and walking past him.

“I don’t know what the hell you want from her, but just know…”

Killua stopped right next to him.

“She may forgive easily, but I don’t. Hurt her again, and I won’t think twice about breaking your arm.”

Kurapika watched him from the corner of his eye. “I don’t plan on staying long enough to hurt anyone.”

They stared at each other, Killua’s eyes cold, but hurt. “Don’t outstay your welcome.”

———————

Dinner was quiet, and awkward. Both Killua and Kurapika seemed irritated, (Name) struggling to make conversation before giving up.

Both were quick to go to bed after dinner. (Name) flinched at the sound of doors slamming, sighing softly.

She walked around the house, picking up little messes KIllua had made during the day.

‘Messy brat.’

She giggled to herself, placing another empty box of chocolate robots in the trash. She wondered how he was able to eat so many and stay so thin.

“(Name)?”

She jumped, quickly turning to see Kurapika standing in the doorway of his room, staring at her with his intense gray eyes.

“Oh- yes?”

He stayed silent for a moment, seemingly choosing his words carefully.

“What… time are you leaving tomorrow?”

She hummed. “I’m thinking after breakfast, so around 8 am. Is that alright with you?”

He nodded, looking away. “Yes, that… that should be fine.”

Thinking the conversation was over, she continued cleaning, humming to herself.

“(Name)?”

He was still standing there, his hand gripping the doorway hard enough to make a creaking sound.

“Yes?”

Kurapika bit his lip, his eyes on the ground.

“I…”

It was silent again, his hair falling to hide his eyes.

“Never mind. Goodnight, (Name).”

“Oh. Goodnight.”

Kurapika closed the door behind him, holding his chest.

He had told himself he’d apologize for his past actions, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

‘She probably hates me, but she’s kind enough to help even those that hurt her. God… I’m such a fucking idiot.’

He sunk into the floor, bringing his knees to his chest.

“My mission will always come before you. Always.”

He flinched at the memory of his words, groaning as he rubbed his temple. Kurapika knew those words were true, but he wished he hadn’t said it out loud. Just the look on her face when he spat it at her, right after she’d risked her life to help him was enough to make his chest ache.

Had he really become so cruel that he couldn’t apologize to someone so dear to him? Would he really spend the rest of his life running from his feelings? From her?

‘It’s safer that way. For both of us.’

He sighed, pulling himself up and plopping down onto his bed. It smelled nice, (Name)’s scent lingering on the comforter as he pulled it up to his chin.

Kurapika couldn’t allow himself to get too comfortable. If he did, he wasn’t the only one who’d be getting hurt.

[astarionmademewriteit]

Mission: Chaos

Astarion (Unascended) x (unnamed) f!reader/tav

Rating: Explicit

MDNI. 18+ ONLY. Blank bios will be blocked.

Wordcount: 5.6k

Tags: Smut; Sorta Act 3 spoilers but not really; Blood, gore and graphic violence; Oral sex (Male receiving); Tav is switch-coded; Mostly adventure; some cute lil fluff

Summary: Astarion and Tav are tasked with a mission only two rogues could accomplish. The looming danger sparks a heated moment. The pair continue to unleash chaos in their wake.

Part Two

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿

I exited my tent at nearly the same time as Astarion stepped out of his. We look each other over, admiring our matching black tactical outfits. Our hoods were drawn, shrouding most of our facial features. Astarion had his matching daggers fastened to his hips and bow fastened to his back, while I had my twin scimitars crossed against mine.

I take in the way his muscular frame is outlined by the fitted armor–the various golden buckles and straps only adding to his lithe elegance.

He flashes me a sharp toothy smile that nearly stops my heart, “Are you ready, my love?”

“As I’ll ever be,” I sigh. I turn to the rest of the camp, our companions watching us patiently.

“Hells, that’s adorable,” Karlach laughs, her eyes aflame with delight and perhaps a hint of jealousy, “We should all get matching gear.”

Astarion chuckles and flourishes his hand through the air waving off her comment, “Please,” he breathes, “Not everyone can look this good.”

I roll my eyes playfully and turn back to the group. Gale steps forward, “Okay, you two. Do you remember the plan?”

Astarion rolls his eyes, clearly tired of having to recite the plan for the umpteenth time just to soothe Gale’s obvious dissatisfaction at being left behind. “By the nine hells, yes Gale,” Astarions says his name with unfiltered disdain, “Remember, Tav and I are the most capable individuals for this mission. The last thing we need is a wizard lumbering about and slowing us down.” He crosses his arms over his chest and frowns, clearly irritated with Gale’s questioning.

Gale plays it off cooly, throwing his hands in the air and backing away, “Just be careful and stay imperceptible. Minimal casualties and all that.”

I nod my head before grabbing Astarion by the arm and pulling him after me, ready to be done with the tense conversation.

This mission was a departure from our usual. We were never really the group to plan things out in advance, and our best laid plans usually entailed stomping into the middle of enemy territory and taking them out by sheer force of will. No, this mission was entirely different. It was a reconnaissance. We sought information–information that would surely aid us in beating the Absolute.

There was an unsuspecting enemy fortress in the lower city, crawling with a faction of Absolutists. It was rumored that there was information related to the Grand Design inside the heavily guarded stronghold. Information regarding the crown of Karsus, blueprints and maps revealing the location of the brain, and relevant information related to the Illithids were also rumored to be residing somewhere behind those looming walls.

As the only two rogues in our merry band of misfits, Astarion and I were the best chance we had at infiltrating and obtaining that information and walking out completely unscathed.

We enter the lower city, our long strides and unbreakable determination keep us moving forward. While I am deep in thought, recounting each step of the plan over and over again until it is etched into my brain, Astarion slips his hand through mine and squeezes it softly.

I look up at him pleasantly surprised by the small affection. It warmed my heart to know that he was comfortable with me in such a manner. After everything we’ve been through, and after everything he has had to endure, small affections like this show me that I make him feel safe enough to express his true feelings.

“Nervous?” I ask, raising an eyebrow playfully. I squeeze his hand back as we round a corner. The streets of Baldur’s Gate are bustling, even at night. Street merchants shout at passersby hoping to entice a drunk patron with deep pockets. The taverns lining the street are practically bursting at the seams, loud music spilling from their thresholds and backdropped by the low murmur of drunk customers seeking temporary refuge from reality.

“Ha!” Astarion laughs exuberantly, “Darling, a magnificent and deadly creature such as myself doesn’t get nervous! However, you looked like you needed some comfort,” He pulls his hand from mine and drapes his arm over my shoulders, pulling me in close. I try to stifle the stupid grin on my face, but I’m unsuccessful in my pursuit to remain cool and collected.

I glance at him and, despite his words, he does look concerned. “As long as we watch each other’s back, we will be fine,” I murmur, wanting nothing more than to soothe his worries and smooth the creases in his forehead that appeared as his brows knit together with concern.

He peers down at me, his bright vermillion eyes searching mine, looking for some form of respite, “Just like old times,” he amends. I flash him a sly smile and lean my head into his shoulder as we continue walking towards our destination. His scent engulfs me completely and adds to the growing comfort.

The stronghold grows larger as we approach its imposing presence. We untangle from our embrace and fall to the shadows, walking the perimeter of the building, being careful to avoid the sentry’s posted at every entrance and window. We round the last corner to the back of the fortress and eye the cellar entrance–two swordsmen posted outside the door with bored expressions painted across their empty faces.

Astarion leans over to consult me on our plan but I’m already stumbling out of the shadows, tripping over my feet and slurring my words, waving in their direction, “S’cuse me sirs, where the bloody hells is Elfshong taverns?” My drunk performance eases the tension between the guards and I can hear Astarion hissing a string of expletives from the shadows. I try not to break character, but getting under his skin was entertaining.

“Ma’am, this area is off limits,” they say as they approach.

I trip over my own feet and fall to the ground, letting a drunk giggle escape my lips. The men rush to my side to lend a hand. I look up at the guard and reach for his hand. As soon as I make contact, I yank him down closer and the flash of my scimitar is the last thing the guard sees before the edge slices across the soft flesh of his throat. Blood sprays through the air and before it can settle Astarion is at my side, burying the dagger in the heart of the second guard.

“Bloody hells, darling,” he says exasperated, already pulling his attention away from the corpses, “warn me before you do something like that again.” He laughs breathily, obviously roused by my efficacy.

I smile up at him–blood spray painting my face, “Careful my love, you almost sound impressed,” I laugh playfully as I wipe the blood from my scimitar on the guard's attire before slipping it back into its harness.

“Oh but I am,” he murmurs, “You never look so beautiful than when you are luring others to their death.” He cocks an eyebrow and I pull my shoulder to my chin, preening at his compliment.

We focus our attention back to the cellar door and I let Astarion approach it to examine the lock mechanism. I lean up against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest and propping one foot against the wall, scanning the alleyway to ensure no one approaches us.

Astarion crouches down beside me and inserts a lockpick into the keyhole, making short work of the mechanism. His eyes rake up my body as he pulls himself back to his feet. His vermillion eyes finally meet mine and I cock an eyebrow, letting him know I caught him staring.

“What?” He whines, “I can’t help it,” he shrugs his shoulders before entering the cellar. I follow close behind him, pulling a small dagger out of a built-in holster that Astarion had sewn into the pant legs. He draws his own daggers, his knuckles seemingly paler than normal as he grips the handle. We slink into the dank, cool cellar scanning for any signs of life that might threaten ours. Stacks of wine barrels line the walls, and rows upon rows of bottled wine litter the cellar. Even the floor is covered in a pool of spilled wine. Once we are certain no one occupies the cellar, we relax slightly, looking for a doorway that will lead us into the belly of the beast.

“It’s a wonder the taverns haven’t run dry with the Absolutists hoarding so much wine down here,” I whisper, taken aback by just how large of a supply there was down here.

Astarion continues weaving through the rows of wine, searching for a way out, “Darling, one thing that is never in short supply in Baldur’s Gate, well, aside from tadpoled freaks, is booze. Here we are,” he alerts, finding a ladder leading up to a hatch in the ceiling.

I nod and follow Astarion as he climbs the ladder. He pauses at the hatch, reaching out with his senses to what lay beyond. After a minute or two he pops open the hatch and crawls out, offering me a hand. He pulls me up quickly before securing the hatch.

We are in a large storage area, boxes of food line the walls. We listen at the wooden door, noting the footsteps of a couple of guards as they patrol the corridor that lay beyond. We sit in silence, counting the minutes between each round until we have a good idea of how long we have to exit the storage and take in our surroundings. Once the guards have both made another pass, we exit quietly, scanning the area for places to hide or rooms to search.

A large corridor stretches out in front of us, several rooms line the walls and numerous hallways branch off the main path into unseen corners of the fortress. The corridor is dimly lit, the sconces overflowing with melted candle wax while newly lit ones cast a faint glow that barely illuminates the great hall.

Astarion already looks to be regretting this mission, clearly exasperated by the number of rooms lining these labyrinths. I surge forward, counting down the minutes before another sentry passes through. The information we are searching for would probably be in a room of some importance, and by the looks of it none of these rooms will contain what we are looking for.

We slink along the walls, stopping every so often to listen for approaching footsteps. Astarion is close at my heels, glancing behind every so often to make sure we aren’t taken by surprise. An adjacent hallway moves out of view and I start forward, hoping to find something–anything.

I peak around the corner and eye two cultists conspiring quietly while they stroll away from us. I signal to Astarion that two enemies are up ahead and he nods, readying himself. We crouch low and stalk slowly in their wake, our footsteps imperceptible even to the pests that scuttle about nearby. I tighten my grip on my dagger, nearing the cultists as they fuss with impatience over the agonizingly slow takeover of Baldur’s Gate.

Astarion and I react simultaneously, wrapping our arms around the unsuspecting thralls and cutting deeply into their throats, effectively cutting off any attempt to alert the others. My victim falls backwards into me and I quickly begin pulling their body into an adjoining room. I dispose of their body in an unsuspecting corner and watch as Astarion follows.

“I’ll never get tired of annihilating these tadpoled freaks,” I whisper, “The rush of adrenaline is exhilarating to say the least.” I admire our handiwork.

Astarion grins in my direction, “Yes… your adrenaline is exhilarating, my dear. It’s so palpable I can almost taste it,” he licks his lips playfully and flashes his fangs. I immediately blush, images of him drinking greedily from my throat flood my mind.

“You’re so distracting,” I say flirtatiously. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to go on a solo mission with Astarion. He makes it difficult to focus, especially when he looks at me the way he is–as if he is ready to devour me.

He simply laughs in response before returning to the mission at hand. We surveyed our surroundings one last time before following the winding hallways through the fortress looking for a room that looked of some importance. We passed by rows of rooms, some sporadically containing Absolutists, too engrossed in their conversations to realize danger lurked around the corner. Most we spared simply because we were trying to keep a low profile. Others wouldn't be so lucky.

We round another corner, eyeing a large set of oak doors emblazoned with the Absolute’s insignia. I turn to Astarion who looks relieved. We slowly make our way down the long corridor when the clanking of metal armor rings through the hallway, echoing loudly in our ears. In one brief moment, a steel watcher exits a room adjacent to the one we were headed towards, and Astarion snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me off the ground and into a room directly beside us. I gasp momentarily, not expecting to be so roughly handled.

He pushes me up against a wall out of the doorway and presses a hand to my mouth. My heart beats loudly in my chest, threatening to burst through my ribcage. Astarion huffs quietly, slightly annoyed that we were almost detected. We stay perfectly still, listening as the steel watcher clangs about slowly.

Astarions forearm is pressed against my shoulders and, even though our demise looms just down the hall, I can’t help the sinful thoughts that cross my mind–especially when his hand is clasped firmly over my mouth the way it is. I shift uncomfortably, pressing my thighs together subtly. I try to suppress the growing warmth that travels to my core, rather unsuccessfully.

Nothing gets past Astarion, however, who has come to recognize my body language better than I knew my own. He peers down at me and knits his eyebrows together, sending me a quiet look that just says… Really? Of all the times.

I look up at him with rounded eyes and shrug. It’s not like I could explain myself with his hand pressed against my mouth and a metal monstrosity lurking around the corner threatening to alert every Absolute in the building of our presence.

Astarion carefully reaches out with his foot and shuts the door quietly. We stand still for several more minutes, waiting for the steel watcher to stray from its post. It seems to be assigned to this hall specifically, and if we can’t find a way into that room, the whole mission will have been for naught.

He loosens his grip around my mouth and brings a finger to his mouth, gesturing for me to stay quiet. I roll my eyes. He glares at me, a look of lustful determination dances across his face. I know that devious look.

Astarion and I have found a kindred spirit in one another. Our blood always ran hot after battle, and our sexual tension was always palpable during moments of high danger. It was an odd little quirk–one that usually awarded us concerning looks among the other companions. They knew we would disappear for hours on end after a particularly difficult battle, choosing to get lost in one another. At least,that was before he truly opened up to me. He confessed his feelings regarding sex, assuring me that what we had was something more, but that it was just too much for him to process–too much to handle. I understood.

It had been weeks since we were last intimate, not that I particularly minded. I had fallen head over heels for this man and I only wanted him to have time to heal. I respected his space, because it wasn’t his body or his looks that took hold of my heart–it was all of him. His soul. It was his fierce protectiveness that he tried so hard to hide that captured my heart. His undying loyalty for his friends. His passion for something more than what the last two centuries had offered him.

He has slowly started exploring physical touch with me again. Placing small kisses along my shoulders. Running his fingers through my hair. Idly tracing shapes on my skin at night. If he allowed it, I would return the small affections, always making sure that he was happy and present.

Our currently shared predicament ignited something in me tonight. I don't know if it was the jarring realization that I loved Astarion more than words could ever properly describe, or the fact that this little mission of ours just reinforced how badly I could not lose him. Perhaps it was both, but a deep yearning for him settled in the pit of my stomach. But it wasn't just about what I wanted. If the way he was looking at me was any indicator, it seemed like he desperately needed me too. Of course, we'd have to be positively mad to indulge in that kind of behavior right now, but we never classified ourselves as sane, rational people to begin with. The heat of the moment was almost unbearable.

A look passes between us and I cock my head to the side, a silent question on my expression. He flashes me a devious smile, which is all the answer I need. He leans in slowly, his hands tracing the curves of my body as he makes his way to my face. His fingers tangle in my hair and he pulls me in roughly, crushing his lips to mine with such eager desperation that I all but go limp under his touch.

I return his kiss eagerly, allowing him to lead–to explore at his own comfort and pace. His tongue forces its way into my mouth, searching for my own. Our tongues mingle, indulging fervently in one another–searching for reprieve. Our lips move together in time, his taste completely engulfing me. His fangs drag against my lip and it takes all the strength in me not to moan. But that was part of the fun wasn't it?

Astarion presses his body harder into mine, pinning me to the wall with such unfiltered reverence. His arousal is evident as it digs into my stomach and my body screams for him in return. I'm fully aware that we cannot have sex here. I could not hope to stay silent during such a sordid affair, but I wanted so badly to bring him pleasure. I wanted him to feel untainted ecstasy, purely for his enjoyment (and let’s face it, for my own enjoyment as well. Nothing felt better than making him feel good). That's where I make up my mind.

With all the force I can muster I spin him around and press him against the wall, never breaking our sultry kiss. Astarion is momentarily stunned by my forwardness, but quickly relaxes and indulges me.

Our tongues continue their sensual dance, exploring one another's mouth as if it's our last night on Faerun. It very well could be. I move my hands to his trousers, playing with the ties that are keeping him restrained. I pull away from our kiss momentarily to peer up into those vermillion eyes, gauging whether he was okay with this. He pushes the hair out of my face, tucking a wisp of hair behind my pointed ears.

He gives me a look of approval which only spurs me to unlace his trousers. I crouch slowly, never taking my eyes off him. The look of pure adoration that graces his features let me know that he is okay and that he wants this. I drop completely to my knees in an act of pure worship–of reverence.

“Darling,” he whispers softly, “You're insatiable.” I give him a knowing look before springing his arousal free from the confines of his trousers. A look of triumph crosses my features, he was hard for me. I still evoked a sense of desire from him. I truly was lucky.

I peel his trousers away before looking up into his wanting face. He looks so earnestly turned on by our circumstances that it brings a devious smile to my lips. I take his cock in my hand, eliciting a quiet hiss to escape his perfect lips. I swipe my thumb across his swollen head, already leaking from the sheer excitement and looming danger. I look up at him, rounding my eyes and biting my lip–a look that drives him mad. He is delirious with desire.

I take his length between my lips, slowly taking him in until I can take no more. Astarion throws his head back, resting it on the wall behind him. His hands snake down into my hair, his fingers grasping for leverage. He moans quietly–the sound strained and full of need. He begins to guide my head gently, using my mouth to fuck himself slowly and deliberately.

My tongue drags down his length, savoring the way he tastes. I suck him hard and slow, letting him guide my movements. I stroke the base of his cock with my hand which only heightens his desire. I swirl my tongue around his head, teasing him endlessly until he all but forces his cock back down my throat.

I push his cock to the back of my throat as far as it will go, ignoring the way I gag around him. My throat tightens around his length, and his hand shoots to his mouth clearly enjoying it enough that he has to remind himself to stay as quiet as possible.

I continue to suck him slowly and deeply, bobbing my head in deliberate motions, enjoying the way I can pleasure him so intently. Tears begin to roll down my cheeks as I continue my pace. His hands drag down his body and he pulls his shirt up slightly, giving me a peak at his toned abdomen.

I lock eyes with him, never stopping my pursuit and I can tell that action alone is enough to push him over the edge. His grip in my hair tightens, pulling at my hair painfully in just the way I like which spurs me to continue.

I pick up the pace, his cock hitting the back of my throat repeatedly and causing me to gag more frequently. More tears escape from my lash line and the sight of me has Astarion panting heavily, his knees practically buckling from the intense pleasure.

I pull away for a moment and let my hand continue to service him, a string of saliva hangs between my lips and his throbbing head. I look up at him with rounded eyes, trying to convey a look of pure innocence. I can tell the sight drives him wild. I find him on the precipice, so close to falling over the edge.

He whimpers, a rare sound to escape his lips, but one that lets me know how he is feeling, “Please,” he begs. It is such a rare moment to find him begging for release, and it is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.

“Please, what?” I ask teasingly. It is not very often that I get to coax such desperate words from his lips and I plan to take advantage of our situation. I want him to tell me what he wants.

He huffs, clearly seeing through my ploy. He surrenders to it almost instantly, unable to hurl a quip in my direction with the way my hand falls down his slick length slowly.

He struggles to find the words while he is so completely at my mercy. I cock an eyebrow at him, waiting patiently as I continue to massage his cock languidly in my palm. I teasingly swipe my tongue up the length of his shaft, hoping that it will motivate him to tell me what he wants.

“Please,” he says breathlessly, “I want to come.” He peers down at me, his eyes a pool of desperation and mad with desire.

I nod my head and quickly take him fully in my mouth once more, letting my throat accommodate as much of him as I can possibly muster. He inhales sharply, enjoying the way my warm wet mouth fits so perfectly around him. He grips my hair even tighter and I stifle the moan that wants to escape my throat.

He sets the pace for me once again, my head bobbing fervently as I suck hard and quickly. His cock hitting the back of my throat at a punishing pace as he thrust himself into me. His breathing becomes ragged, his thrusts more erratic. I can tell he is chasing his own release.

“Gods,” he whispers, his voice gravelly and thick with lust, “Please don’t stop.”

I chance a small groan, despite our current situation, and the vibrations are surely what sends him over the edge. His pace slows as his seed spills into the back of my throat. I swallow it greedily, his taste giving me my own sort of pleasure.

I can tell Astarion wants nothing more than to moan out in pleasure, but he keeps quiet, throwing his head back against the wall as his orgasm rocks through his body. His release sends a wave of pleasure through his entire body.

I swallow every drop of his spent, savoring its unique flavor. Once he has stilled completely, I pull him from my mouth with a quiet pop. He looks down at me, trying desperately to bring his breathing under control. I can feel the slickness between my thighs and note the ways my body longs for him.

I swipe my thumb along the corner of my mouth and down my bottom lip before helping him fasten his trousers. I stand completely and meet his vermillion gaze.

“Gods below,” he finally whispers, his voice raspy, “You’re going to be the death of me, my dear.” He brings a hand to my face and swipes his thumb across my cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped earlier.

I drag my hands through his ivory curls and look at him with unfiltered adoration. His eyes flit to my lips once more and he pulls me in close, kissing me so deeply and with such devotion that my knees threaten to buckle underneath me.

After a moment he pulls away, “We better make it through the night, darling,” he purrs, “Because I’m taking you for myself when we get back to camp.” he drags a knuckle down my neck and gently traces my collarbone. He sighs with longing, before releasing me from his embrace. My body shivers at his promise, steeling my determination.

Back to the task at hand. There will be more time to indulge in one another later. Astarion chances a peek through the door. He eyes the steel watcher, blindly marching up and down the long corridor.

“One more rotation and we can make a break for the door while its back is turned. We’ll only have a few seconds to get inside, so we’ll have to be quick and deliberate,” he whispers. I nod in understanding and wait for his order.

The steel watcher clanks down the hall, passing by our door. As soon as we are out of eye sight, we quickly and silently head towards the oak doors. Astarion quickly begins lockpicking while I watch the steel watcher near the end of the hall.

“It’s about to come back,” I say urgently. I hear the lock give way under his deft fingers and we slink in and shut the door just when the watcher rounded on its heels. I rest against the oak doors, trying to calm my nerves and taking in the surrounding room.

The room had vaulted ceilings, only lit by the low burning candles on the wall. The opposite side of the room had floor to ceiling shelves filled with dusty tomes. A large ornate desk sat in the middle scattered with papers–none of which looked particularly important. Against a sidewall sat a large table with maps strewn about, battle plans inscribed across them.

Astarion studies the maps before stuffing them into his pocket. I eye a chest against an adjacent wall and make my way over, studying it for any signs of a trap. Satisfied that I detect none, I crouch down to begin picklocking.

Before I can, however, Astarion yanks me to my feet and I look up at his worried face. “Darling, do be careful. It is obviously a trap.” His face is concerned–scared even. The thought of me getting hurt because I failed to detect the trap creeps across his face. Usually, in these situations he would be more annoyed than anything. But all I see is real fear.

“Sorry,” I murmur, stepping aside to allow him to disarm the trap and unlock the chest. He makes quick work of both, his lithe hands working gracefully and efficiently. After a moment, the chest pops open.

We both look inside. It is filled with several folded letters containing useful information related to the Grand Design. Several tomes related to the Crown of Karsus and its Netherstones were also nestled inside. Lastly, a large map marking a location deep beneath the city looked particularly interesting. Perhaps that is where the elder brain was located. We stuff the contents of the chest in our pack and ready ourselves to leave.

“Let’s get the hells out of here,” Astarion says, relieved.

Before we can exit the room, the door swings open. We react instantly, melting into the wall just out of eyesight of the door. An armored woman walks through the door completely unaware of our presence as she is too engrossed in a letter she has in her hand. Before the door can fully shut, Astarion leaps forward from behind her and places a hand over her mouth. She looks up at me, terror and recognition fills her eyes. I’m the last thing she ever sees as he snaps her neck with powerful force.

Her limp body falls to the floor. I snatch the letter from her hand and read it quickly. There is some kind of charm or enchantment concealing the actual message. I stuff it into my pocket, hoping Gale can find some use in it.

We peek through the door, waiting for the watcher to turn its back. Once the coast is clear, we begin our complicated dance–maneuvering in and out of rooms as the watcher passes us by. Once we clear the corridor, we begin our long journey through the maze of corridors, eliminating stray cultists if we come across them and picking up any gold we find along the way.

By the time we make it back to the storage room, our pockets are heavy with gold and various loot. We descend down the hatch and back into the cellar, giggling quietly at our success. A mixture of relief and satisfaction washing over us as our tension melts away.

We burst through the cellar door and into the alleyway, the cool dark night welcoming us. I turn to find Astarion calculating, a diabolical grin graces his features. I cock my head to the side, wondering what he is planning.

“Stand back, darling,” he says, flashing his fangs. In one fluid motion he lights the end of an arrow and nocks it. He pulls the arrow back until the string is taut. His muscles strain against the force and he has never looked quite as beautiful than in this moment–right before causing unimaginable chaos. He aims squarely at the still open door of the cellar and releases the arrow. Before it lodges in the side of a barrel of wine he turns and bolts towards me. He leaps gracefully in my direction and we both topple to the ground. He shields my body with his, pinning me firmly to the cold hard ground.

As soon as we hit the ground a large explosion rings through the air as a chain reaction ignites the lowest level of the fortress. The heat from the explosion pricks my skin as a large orange glow rises into the dark night. The building gives way, its structural integrity buckling under the sheer force of the explosion.

I burst out laughing, tears coming to the surface as my laughter turns into uncontrollable guffawing. Astarion joins me in laughter, and the sound is beautiful. We allow ourselves to fall apart, finding entertainment in our own chaotic decisions. The glow from the explosion paints his features in a warm aura, and at this moment I have decided I cannot live without my vampire.

I run my fingers through his snowy curls, looking at him with pure devotion hanging heavy in my heart. “I love you, Astarion,” I whisper lovingly.

He stares at me and his features soften, “I-I love you too, Tav.” He leans down and kisses me in the alley way, all our fears melting away and forgotten as the building crashes down behind us. We are just two love-sick people who thrive on chaos. I cannot think of a place I would rather be. He continues to surprise me, and I surmise our future together is going to be beautifully chaotic.

“Let’s get you back to camp, darling,” He whispers as he pulls away from our kiss, “We have some unfinished business to attend to.”

[mrprettywhenhecries]

run rabbit, run [g.t]

Gator Tillman ✘ Win Lewis (OC)

✝︎ w.c. 3.7k words ✝︎ a/n. I wanted to write a few spooky oneshots for kinktober, focusing on kinks I've never written before, and this is (hopefully 🤞) the first of three. ✝︎ tags/warnings. canon x oc pairing, fem!oc, predator/prey, hair pulling, spitting degradation, spanking, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, outdoor sex, creampie, slight gunplay (if you squint) ✝︎ credit. barbed wire divider {x}

After a disappointing corn maze, Gator proposes a more thrilling game and Win is all too willing to play.

[ masterlist • win bio ]

“Oh my God, that was so lame,” Win exclaimed, though she wore a grin on her face as she and Gator stepped out of the corn maze, the sound of screams and laughter punctuating the night air behind them.

“You can’t tell me you weren’t scared,” Gator scoffed, slinging an arm around her shoulders when he noticed her shiver and pull her thin jacket closer.  “You screamed your head off and hid behind me every time someone in a mask jumped out at us,” he pointed out, scowling as some teenagers pushed past, nearly running into him.

Win jerked her chin defiantly and shot him a sharp look.  “I’m not saying I wasn’t scared,” she huffed, “but there’s a difference between a cheap scare, like a jump scare and true terror,” she insisted, leading Gator toward the exit, the scent of popcorn and sweet roasted pecans from the food carts nearby surrounding them.

“You’re the only person I know that actually likes being scared,” Gator snorted, stopping to get Win a caramel apple for the road.

“It’s not that weird,” she huffed, climbing into the passenger seat of his truck.  “As long as you’re not in any real danger, it can be pretty exciting.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Gator mused, twisting his key in the ignition.  “I’ve heard fear can be an aphrodisiac too,” he added, glancing over at her pointedly.

“Oh, you’ve heard that, have you?” Win laughed, freeing her treat from it’s plastic wrapping and giving it a taste.

Gator tilted his head, lifting a shoulder in a half shrug, though a smirk played at the corner of his mouth.  

“It’s not like I didn’t have fun though,” Win added, laying her arm across the console to thread her fingers between Gator’s, smiling softly when he gave her hand a squeeze.  “I just wished it would’ve had more… ambience.”

Gator nodded to himself as an idea took root.

“What’re we doing here?” Win asked, sitting up straighter in her seat as Gator turned onto the lane to the ranch.

“Just gotta grab a couple things from the house real quick,” Gator answered cryptically, pulling up in front of the dark farmhouse.  “Be right back,” he assured her as he threw the truck in park and jumped out, hurrying up to the porch and disappearing inside.

A minute later, the front window on the second floor lit up and Win could see Gator’s shadow moving about his room.  It only took him a few more minutes before the light switched off and he was back out the door and striding toward the truck, carrying something in his hand.  It wasn’t until he yanked the door open that Win realized what it was.

“Is that a paintball gun?” she asked, unable to keep the incredulity from her voice, noting that he’d only grabbed one.

“Yep.”  Gator answered simply, stowing the gun in the backseat and tossing Win his heavy camo hoodie.  “Put that on,” he instructed, climbing back behind the wheel and turning the truck around. "You're gunna need it."

“Gator, what are we doing?” Win huffed, though she shrugged off her jacket to pull the sweatshirt over her head.  Gator’s scent still clung to it and she took a moment to bury her nose in the soft fabric, breathing him in.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he replied, wearing a smug grin.

He didn’t drive far, their destination only a few miles from the ranch, and Gator pulled off onto a narrow dirt path nestled between a patch of woods and a corn field, parking just out of sight of the road.

“Now are you gunna tell me what we’re doing?” Win asked, peering out the window as Gator cut the engine, excitement prickling her insides.

“Well, you said you wanted to be scared,” he answered, turning to look at her, his lips curving impishly.

“I did say that,” Win mused, wetting her lips, anticipation bubbling in her stomach.

“I thought we could play a little game,” Gator continued, arching an amused brow at her from under the brim of his cap before pushing his door open and grabbing the paintball gun.

“And what sort of game would that be?” Win asked, hurrying to follow him, thankful for his hoodie as she left the warmth of the truck cab, though the trees helped to cut the wind some.

Gator checked something on his gun before answering, stepping into Win’s space to smirk down at her.  

“I’ll be the predator... and you’ll be the prey,” he drawled, watching her through hooded eyes.  “I’ll even give you a two minute head start.”

Win swallowed, her eyes darting to the gun in his hand.  “You’re not gunna actually shoot me with that, are you?”

Gator shrugged.  “Not if you’re quick enough.”

The condescension in his voice made her squirm, annoyed at how much it turned her on.

“And what exactly are you gunna do when you catch me?” she asked, stepping closer, a challenge flashing in her stormy eyes.

Gator’s lips twitched, pleased at her choice of words.

“Guess you’ll just have to find out,” he drawled, the promise in his heavy lidded gaze sending heat pooling low in Win’s stomach.

“Ready for your head start?”

“You better give me the full two minutes,” she warned, and Gator started a timer on his watch.

“You better get going,” he exclaimed, and Win took off, sprinting for the treeline, glad for the cloudless sky and the nearly full moon hanging overhead.

Even after passing under the cover of the foliage, the night was still light enough that she could easily see the path ahead, though it occurred to her that that would only make it easier for Gator to see her as well.

“Shit,” she hissed under her breath, stopping to scan her surroundings–she needed to find some place to hide, and quick.

She could feel the seconds slipping away and though she knew it was only a glorified game of hide and seek and it was only Gator hunting her, her heart fluttered like a rabbit’s, hammering against the inside of her ribcage while her pulse thundered in her ears, the adrenaline flooding her making her feel alive.

Spotting a large bush growing next to a cluster of trees a few yards away, Win hurried toward it, dropping to her knees to crawl under its branches just as she heard Gator’s voice in the distance.

“Your two minutes are up, Winnie!  I’m comin’ for ya.”

The crunch of Gator’s boots grew louder as he approached and Win shrank back further into the bushes, holding her breath and hoping the shadows were deep enough to obscure her.  Somewhere overhead an owl cried and Gator stopped mere feet from her hiding place, his head swiveling, searching, and part of Win itched to jump from the brush and take him by surprise, turning the tables just to prove she could—but then she’d lose the satisfaction of being caught.  

And for once, she wanted to be caught.

But that didn’t mean she wanted to make it easy for him.

After what felt like an eternity, Gator finally moved on, holding his gun at the ready.  Once he was out of sight, Win slipped out from her cover, hesitating long enough to crane her head the way he’d gone before sneaking off in the opposite direction, picking her way carefully through the underbrush.

Confident she’d lost him, she let out the breath she’d been holding and began moving faster, less carefully, thinking to double back toward the truck when a loud snap–almost deafening in the silence–echoed through the woods and she froze, her blood running cold as she looked down at the broken stick beneath her foot.

“Fuck,” she grimaced, straining to listen for Gator’s footsteps over the rush of blood in her ears, foolishly hoping he’d been far enough out of earshot to have heard her blunder.

Two sharp cracks ripped through the silence, exploding bright green against the tree next to her and a startled cry burst from her lungs, jolting her into motion.  Without a second thought, she took off sprinting, realizing too late that she was being forced out of the woods and toward the cornfield.  If she turned to run along the drive between the two, his next shot surely wouldn’t miss–for all of Gator’s shortcomings, marksmanship wasn't one of them.

Breaking out of the treeline, Win leapt headlong into the corn rows as she heard Gator fire off another couple rounds.  Though the dry corn was harder to move stealthily through, it was better than no cover at all.

Angling her body to maneuver through the narrow rows, the brittle corn leaves whipped against her face, forcing her to slow and it wasn’t long before Gator could be heard behind her.

“Where are ya, Winnie?” he called, whistling for her like a dog, and she could practically hear the smug smirk playing at his lips.  “It’s no use tryin’ to hide.  You know I’m gunna find you.”

Win stopped, gasping for breath, and turned to listen for the rustle of corn as Gator stalked her, trying to get an idea of how close he was, which direction he was coming from.

“C’mon Win, we both know how much you want me to catch you.  For such a feisty bitch, you sure like it when I have you helpless.  Bet it has you drippin’ just thinkin’ about it,” he drawled, using the barrel of his gun to part the stalks as he prowled the rows, searching for her.

A harsh gasp left her lips as she caught a flash of movement to her right and Win quickly clapped a hand over her mouth and dropped, crouching low, hoping Gator would be more focused on what was ahead of him rather than scanning the ground.

“When I catch you, I’m gunna fuck you like the little whore you are, right out in the middle of the woods–”

A soft groan caught in Win’s throat at the thought, desire pulsing through her, but as much as she wanted it, she wasn’t ready to give up just yet.  After all, the chase, the mounting tension, only made it that much hotter.

Keeping an eye on the spot she’d seen movement, Win began to creep forward slowly, circling Gator’s position as she fought to avoid rustling the stalks too much, hoping his own movement would mask any sounds she made. 

“How long you plan on keeping this up for?” Gator called, stopping once more to scan the field, tilting his head to listen.

Win grimaced, her jaw clenching as her shoulder brushed against a stalk, the leaves rustling loudly in the sudden silence and Gator’s head snapped toward her.

“Gotcha.”

Giving up on stealth, Win scrambled in the dirt for purchase, pushing herself up to make a break for it, Gator right on her heels.

She could hear his breath loud in her ears, or was it her own?

For one brief moment the moon shone brightly overhead before she was back in the woods, the moonlight filtering down in patches amid the shadows.  Not daring to look back over her shoulder, she weaved through the trees, her heart pounding hard in her chest.  For a moment she thought she might outrun Gator, not quite as fast as he once was back before his football accident, until she tripped.

Catching a large root just right with the toe of her boot, time seemed to slow as she went sprawling, arms windmilling uselessly before landing hard on the ground with a grunt.

“Shit–” she hissed, hastily pushing herself to her feet, but it was too late.  

“Freeze.”

Something pressed into Win’s back between her shoulder blades and she froze, lifting her hands in surrender.

“Good girl,” Gator murmured behind her, his breath fanning across the back of her neck, sending a shiver racing down her spine.

Gator slowly circled her, a smirk tugging at lips.

“You ready to give up?  You put up a pretty good fight, but let’s face it, I’ve got you cornered, sweetheart,” he drawled, peering down his nose at her, radiating smug satisfaction as he trailed the muzzle of his gun between Win’s legs, his lips twitching as she squirmed.

There was a look in his eyes that thrilled her, that made her burn for him—her cunt aching for him to fill it.

“You gunna answer me?” he prompted and Win swallowed, slowly nodding.

“I give up.  You win,” she said, hanging her head so Gator couldn’t see the flash of defiance in her eyes.

As soon as he stepped closer, letting his guard down,—thinking he’d won—she struck, knocking the paintball gun from his hands and they struggled, tumbling to the ground.

Wrestling frantically, kicking at the dirt and leaves, the two rolled, grunting and panting, until Gator came out on top, his cap knocked from his head and his slicked back hair falling in his eyes as he pinned her by the wrists.

“Shit—“ he gasped, catching his breath as he held her still, hovering over her.  “Shoulda known you wouldn’t go down that easy,” he breathed, a pleased grin twisting his lips, turning pink from the cold.

“That’s my firecracker,” he chuckled, his heavy lidded eyes roaming her face.  “It’s so much hotter when you put up a fight,” he drawled, leaning in to kiss her deeply, his tongue demanding against hers and Win groaned as his cock throbbed against her hip, trapped beneath his cargo pants.

Gator echoed her moan as their tongues clashed and Win bit down hard on his lip, his moan turning to a hiss of pain.

“Ow, Jesus—“ he hissed, releasing one of her wrists to gingerly touch his lip, a trace of blood staining his fingertips, though a ghost of a smile curved his lips at her display of defiance.

“Now you’ve really done it,” he drawled, running his tongue along his bottom lip.

Win’s breath hitched as Gator sat up, his fingers fumbling at the button of her jeans, hastily working them down her hips along with her thin panties.  As soon as the chill air hit her bare skin, she gasped, but Gator only grinned, his gaze dropping to her exposed sex.

“Fuckin’ knew it,” he groaned, admiring the way her folds glistened wetly in the moonlight, dragging two fingers between them to gather her juices before lifting his hand to show her, pulling his fingers apart to watch her slick stretch between them in silvery strands.

“You’re fuckin’ drippin’, Winnie,” he drawled, pressing his fingers to her lips till she opened her mouth to suck them clean, moaning low in her throat at the taste.  “Looks like you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

Win could only nod in response, swirling her tongue around his digits.  Gator’s head fell back with a groan as he palmed himself with his free hand – his cock beginning to strain painfully against the stiff fabric of his pants.

“Shit, you’re like a bitch in heat,” he muttered, swallowing thickly, and Win pulled his fingers from her mouth with a soft pop.

“Jesus Gator, you gunna fuck me or just talk about it?” Win huffed, her eyes flashing impishly.  “You’re supposed to be the predator, right?  Devour me,” she breathed, pushing up to her elbows as she held his lust drenched gaze.

“Fuck, I love you,” he breathed, rocking back on his heels to roll her onto her belly and hoist her onto all fours before fumbling his cock free, hissing at the cold.  Win gasped as Gator pressed between her shoulder blades, forcing her face down against the ground, ass still in the air, and her cunt throbbed at how easily he manhandled her.

“Be a good girl for me and stay still,” Gator grunted, grabbing the fat of her ass to part her cheeks, pursing his lips and spitting against her puckered hole.  Win gave a jerk, half pushing up, Gator’s name on her lips like a warning until her gave her ass a sharp swat, the palm of his hand stinging from the impact and Win gave another jolt, gasping in surprise.

“What’d I say about staying still?” he exclaimed, grabbing her hips to pull her back into position.  “I ain’t goin’ in that hole, so calm down,” he added in assurance.

“You better fuckin’ not,” Win muttered, but lowered her head obediently.

Gator grinned, caressing the red welt he’d left on her ass cheek before pausing to spit again, biting his lip as he watched his saliva roll between her folds to mix with the sticky arousal that was already practically dripping down her thighs.

Gripping his cock at the base, he guided the tip to her entrance, groaning as he pressed into her tight wet heat, watching raptly as she sucked him in, her greedy little cunt stretching around him like it was meant to take his cock.

Win echoed Gator’s moan, pressing her forehead to the ground as she arched back against him impatiently, urging him deeper, feeling every vein and ridge as she squeezed around him.

“Oh fuck– eager little rabbit, huh?” Gator panted, thrusting sharply the rest of the way, forcing a breathy gasp from Win’s lips as he bottomed out.  “C’mon, I know you can take me better than that,” he taunted, condescension dripping from his words as he thrust sharply into her again, tightening his grasp on her hips to hold her steady as he began to pound into her, his fingers digging into her flesh hard enough to bruise.

With each swift rut, Win’s body bounced forward with the impact, the lewd rhythmic slap of skin against skin filling the air, competing only with their heavy breaths and moans.

Digging her fingers into the earth, her cheek pressed to the cold ground, Win had never felt so deliciously helpless, so like an animal ensnared by its captor, unable to fight back even had she wanted to.  With each thrust, each jolt of her body, Gator’s cock dragged against that sensitive spot inside her that made her head swim, and she moaned, his name tumbling from her lips deliriously, uncaring about the noise in their seclusion.  She barely even felt the sting of the cold against her exposed flesh.  

“Fuck, Win—“ Gator groaned, almost a whine, his pleasure swiftly building, compressing the spring in his gut til he was afraid it might snap.  Tangling his hand in a fistful of her hair, he gave a sharp tug, forcing her head up as he leaned over her, his lips close to her ear.  

“Who owns this pussy?” he hissed, his breath hot against the curve of her jaw.

“You do—!“ Win gasped, the pain in her scalp mixing with the pleasure that coursed through her, hovering just out of reach.

“Damn straight,” Gator grunted, gritting his teeth, his movements growing jerky, desperate.  “You gunna be good and cum for me?” he asked, the strain in his voice evident.

Win tried to nod before remembering his grasp on her hair and she winced.  “Fuck, yes, please—“ she begged, wetting her lips, and it was all Gator needed to hear.

Desperate to push her over the edge, he released her hair to awkwardly wrap his arm around her, slipping his hand between her legs to search for her clit as he rut into her frantically, rubbing sloppy circles against her bundle of nerves.  The effect was nearly instantaneous, the added stimulation pushing her off the ledge and into the deep end, and Win came with a keening cry, her body tensing violently.  

“Shit, Win, fuckfuckfuckkkk—!” Gator echoed, falling headlong with her into the abyss, his hips stuttering as Win clenched impossibly tighter around him, milking him dry with each deep thrust until he finally stilled, cock still twitching as her walls pulsed and fluttered around him with the after shocks of her climax.

Panting heavily, he dropped his head to her shoulder with a ragged breath, his arm around her the only thing holding her up.  Despite the cold, sweat beaded on Gator’s forehead, his shirt sticking to him beneath his coat.

Win, however, trembled beneath him and he hastily pulled out of her, watching his spend seep from her spent hole for a moment before pushing it back between her folds with his fingers and pulling her panties back up.

“Can’t lose any of that, huh?” she chuckled weakly, pulling her jeans back up while Gator hastily tucked himself back into his cargo pants, still wet with their combined fluids. "Love the thought of you filled with me," he murmured. 

Once dressed, the two of them collapsed to the ground together, Win fitting against Gator’s side as if she was molded just for him, seeking any warmth she could find and he pulled her closer, pressing his lips to her forehead. 

“So, that was pretty fun,” he chuckled, looking down at her.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, glancing up at him through her eyelashes, his body heat not quite enough to chase away the chill that had seeped into her from the ground.  “Next time I wanna hunt you though,” she teased, shivering.

Gator snorted.  “Not a chance,” he replied, shaking his head, briefly wondering where his cap had fallen, the tip of his nose and ears growing numb from the cold.

“That’s not fair,” Win huffed lightly, snuggling closer, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in.

“Yeah it is,” Gator countered, frowning slightly at how she trembled in his arms.  “C’mon, let’s go back to the truck and warm up, and we can argue more about it when your teeth aren’t chattering.”

Win rolled her eyes, but nodded, letting Gator help her to her feet.  Crouching to snatch his hat and tug it back on his head, he grabbed his paintball gun from where Win had knocked it from his hands.

“Ready?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to keep her close till they got to the truck. “Ready,” she agreed, clinging to him as they walked.  “But don’t think our discussion is over,” she warned lightly. 

“You just wanna shoot me with a paintball,” Gator snorted.

“Maybe,” Win conceded with a grin.  As much as she enjoyed being his prey, she couldn’t deny how much she liked the thought of hunting him next time.

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