#thank you sm for drawing this!!! i had such a treat looking at all the details!!! ❤️

[sakasakiii]

this is such an unexpected crossover?!!!! apologies for not being able to reblog straightaway, but i HAD to draw something back in response 😭 maglorathglor looks like such a distinguished gentleman compared to my kano HAHA

theyre bonding in their own way.... somewhat

the meeting of maglorath!maglor and @sakasakiii's modern maglor

[madamechrissy]

Your series is on toppp, i was always waiting for your new post especially that gojo series lmao. Anyways, can we get a gojo x innocent!reader?? Make them likee childhood friend and gojo takes her virginity lolll.

Thank you sm love, I hope you enjoy it <3 You know I've never given Gojo a virgin in anything, it's his first time for me lmaooo! 🩷🩷🩷

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x virgin reader

Contents/warnings: cute fluff, friends to lovers, first time/loss of virginity, oral sex (M and F receiving), explicit sex, pet names, not much plot lol, just smut fr

Word Count:: 3.7k

🩷 First Time 🩷

You are sitting next to Satoru on his couch as you all watch one of his silly movies. He has laid out a million snacks and treats for the night, including bowls full of Halloween candy from yesterday. Yes, Satoru was twenty two and yes, he still went trick or treating, you’d been dragged along with him all night last night, running from house to house.

Your feet still hurt, you’re wincing and rubbing them, and Satoru looks over at you with his stupidly pretty eyes, eyes you should be used to after being friends for ten years, but sometimes they… well they did things. Satoru seems to be clueless at his effects on you, how when he tickles you, you gasp, how when he pulls you against him, you sigh and inhale his scent.

You’re pretty bad at hiding it.

Suguru and Shoko make fun of you endlessly, but you are just too afraid to ruin your friendship. But then, you’ve also non stop turned down men, left and right, pining away for him. It certainly was not the best way to go about things, but you’re holding out for him to be your first. Even though it’s foolish to think it will happen, you can’t help but wait for him.

Satoru was not dating anyone, he really had not dated much since high school, he would have a fling here and there, but mostly he spent time working and then with his friends. With you.

“Feet hurting? Bring ‘em to Daddy.” He teases with a smirk, and you giggle, rolling your eyes.

“Oh gosh, Satoru. You really gonna rub ‘em?”

“Sure am, it’s my fault they hurt. C’mere.” You lean back on the couch and prop your feet up on his lap, as his long fingers press into the soles of your feet, you moan a bit, and he pauses, looking at you.

“Sorry.” You say, flustered and overheated, and Satoru looks back at the movie, his tall, lithe body leaning back against the cushions.

“No need to say sorry, it feels good hmm?” He teases, as you try to focus on the movie, but he’s pressing his fingers deeper, and massaging your feet so good your eyes flutter shut.

“Very good, oof thank you.” You say softly, going to pull them back a bit, but Satoru now has raised his massage to your ankles. You gasp. “That tickles!”

“Does it? You’re so ticklish.” He’s running little circles on your ankles then, and your thighs shift as his hands slip even higher, to your calves.

“That feels… really good, mmm.” You whisper, wishing it meant less to you, wishing you did not treasure and drink in every bit of your best friend. His shiny white hair, his perfect straight nose, model cheekbones and pouty lips. Satoru Gojo was the prettiest man you’ve ever seen, but it’s more than that.

His little smirk and how his snowy lashes lower over his eyes, his laugh when he’s being silly, how his body looks in that black skin tight gym shirt, his biceps curling as he’s gently brushing your legs. You bite your lower lip then, as he’s still watching the movie, his touches lighter, little caresses down your legs.

“You have nice legs.” You sputter then, mouth wide, and he peeks at you, a little blush on his cheeks. “What you do.”

“Um… what? I do?” He looks down at your thighs now, and when his huge hands cover them, you can’t stop the little whimper, drawing his attention to you.

“You doing alright over there?” He asks then, raising a brow, and you cover your face now.

“I have to say something.” You shift your legs down, and Satoru pouts.

“I was having fun playing with them, meanie.”

“Satoru…” You lean forward on the couch, touching his shoulders gently. “I really have to tell you something.”

“Go on then, silly girl.” He taps your nose with a little smile. You take a deep breath, looking into his swirling blue eyes then.

“I want you to be my first.”

“What!?” He’s sputtering now, and jumps up, and then you jump up, turning away and covering your face.

“I’m so stupid, of course you wouldn’t. You’re Satoru Gojo, you can have anyone. And you’re experienced. And-”

“Hey, hey.” Satoru’s hands are on your shoulders behind you now, and you tense a bit at the touch, heart racing. “You’re prettier than anyone I’ve been with, it’s not anything like that.”

“Shit, really? You think I’m pretty?” You whisper, looking back at him, and he exhales, hands squeezing a bit, nodding.

“Of course you are, silly. I tell you that you look cute all the time, do I not?”

“Cute. Not pretty.”

“Well, you’re cute and pretty. And… you’re a virgin?” He turns you to him then, and you nod shyly, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Why me the first time, why not a boyfriend?”

You sigh then, fiddling with your hands in front of yourself. “You’re who I want it with. We can stay friends, it doesn’t have to like ruin it, you don’t have to date me.”

He blinks his white lashes then, tilting his head. “Why wouldn’t I wanna date you?”

“Because we’re friends!”

“And I like you, a lot. I always have. I thought… Well, I thought you didn’t like me like that.”

“What!?” It’s your turn now, and he smirks a bit.

“Well, I’m half naked in front of you constantly, and I barely see you check me out.”

“I do! But I look away when you look at me. You don’t check me out!”

“Oh, I do.” His eyes dart down your body now, and it’s as if he’s touching you, as he looms over you, so tall, so sexy. “I look away when you look at me. Now, you really want a first time, you have to be my girlfriend, I’m no hussy.” He states, putting his hand to his chest, and you laugh then.

“I can absolutely do that. How do we seal this boyfriend/girlfriend status then? A selfie? A pinky swear?” You step closer, trailing a hand up his chest now.

“Mmm, all of the above. But first, this.” Satoru leans down now, kissing you for the first time, his soft, plump lips pressing on yours, and you gasp at it, before kissing him back, putting pressure on his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck, on your tip toes. Satoru moans softly, pulling back, his hands on your waist, then his eyes lock onto yours.

“Toru… that’s perfect.” You murmur softly, as you still feel the tingles of your lips, then you realize you have a tear sliding down your cheek. Satoru swipes it away gently, tilting up your chin and bending down, lips against your ear.

“I wanna have you cumming so hard you scream my name, pretty tears falling out of those pretty eyes.” Your body reacts viscerally, your nipples pressed against the little tank top you’re wearing, as he nips your ear then, sending shivers down your spine at the sensation.

“Please.” Satoru’s kissing down your neck now, hands on your hips, feeling your every curve, your hands enwrap in his silky hair, gasping when he picks you up in his arms like it’s nothing.

“Anything you want, pretty girl.” You melt at his words, as he carries you to his bedroom, laying you down and sliding up your tank then, revealing your breasts, he exhales as he sees them, nostrils flaring. “Holy… they’re so fucking pretty.”

“You like them?” You ask shyly, and he nods eagerly.

“Take it off, please, be a good girl for me.” You’re dripping wet already, as you lean up and pull the top over your head, your tits bouncing gently. He’s gripping them in his big hands then, squishing them and running his thumbs over your nipples, your back arches. “Tell me what you like, don’t hold back, I want to learn all of you.”

“That feels good, it feels so good.” You say softly, and he then kisses down to each peak, sucking them into his hot mouth. “S’good, mmm!”

He hums a bit, his big hand sliding down your tummy, making it tremble, as he finds your shorts, pulling them down. “So, do you masturbate Miss Virgin?”

“Jerk, ugh. Of course I do, ah!” He’s kissing and nipping on your rib cage now, looking at you with his eyes dilated, pupils so big there’s just a ring of that brilliant blue now.

“Show me what you do, then I’ll know where you like to be touched most.” He’s taking your hand now, grinning with those white teeth. “Aw, ya blushing?”

“Well, y-yes. Um… I don’t finger myself, I just rub my clit.”

“Of course, those small little fingers, they can’t hit good.” He holds his fingers out, double your length, so long you clench around nothing imagining them, getting wetter when he presses your finger to your clit. “That’s it, pretty, show me.”

You rub your clit in circles, aching for him, as he stands up, taking off his shirt then, and you drink in his body hungrily, as he drinks in yours. “Fuck you’re gorgeous Satoru.”

“And you’re gorgeous, best friend. Girlfriend. Shnookums.”

“Shnookums!”

“Tossing cute names around.” He’s sliding his jeans off now, just in his dark blue boxers, then you see that outline, making you heat up even more with such strong desire. “Go ahead, keep going, you’re doing good.”

“Want you to touch me.” You whisper, as he sits back on the bed, the springs creaking under his weight, watching as your finger is playing between your lips, taking your hand gently and sucking on your finger then. “Oh!”

“Yummy. Need to taste you.” He says then, his voice husky, you are crying out when he rubs his fingers along your folds, down your slit, where wetness is pooling down to your entrance.

“Toru!” Your hips buck up when he runs circles on your clit, eyeing you carefully now.

“Have you had anything inside this pretty pussy at all?” He asks, sliding down to lay between your thighs now, his hands pressing into the plush of them as he spreads them wide. “So perfect.”

“No, I haven’t.” You admit, then gasp out when he slides one of his thick, long fingers inside you. “Ah… ah!”

“Fuck you’re so tight.” He pecks little kisses on your thighs, nipping as he studies you, pressing on a spot now that makes you see stars. “There it is.”

You’re falling apart as he pumps that long finger in, before stretching it to two, which is so hard to take, you can barely get to his first knuckles. “Toru, it’s too much… too much…”

“Aww you can take it, can’t you? Gotta stretch this tight little pussy for me, I’m a lot bigger than those fingers.” You can hear the squishing of your wetness as he kisses closer and closer, and you’re entangling your fingers in his hair, pressing against his scalp. “You’re so needy for me, aren’t you?”

You can’t speak then, when he kisses the hood of your clit, pulling the fingers out to part your folds gently. Your legs shake on either side of his head as he studies your pussy even more, moaning as he does. “Toru, um what are you doing?”

“Gonna eat you out, pretty girl. I can’t just have a treat like this and not eat it, don’t you know I have a sweet tooth?”

“Are you sure, I didn’t expect-”

“Oh this is my favorite. You’ll love it.” Satoru swipes his tongue up your slit then, and you’re moaning so loud it’s embarrassing, and he exhales, tickling you so good, his cool breath blowing on your overheated cunt. “Yummy.”

“Toru, fuck…”

“What a bad mouth, young lady.” He glares, and you laugh, breathless. “And you’re laughing, ah-ah.” He smacks your pussy, shocking you, but you like it, as you’re gushing more arousal out of your little hole. “Freaky little virgin.”

“Toru!”

“Stop talking back missy.” He smacks it again, and grins at your reaction. “Let me enjoy my treat, hmm?” You just nod, and he dives down now, sliding his tongue in and out of you in the most delicious tongue fuck. You’re already pulsing around him as he drinks you up, exploring you with his tongue, lips, teeth.

Your back arches, as he’s fucking you with it over and over, his teeth hitting your clit when he swipes up, finally swirling your clit in circles with the tip of his stupidly talented tongue. You can’t stand how good it feels, the pressure in your tummy, then you realize you’re going to cum, and cum so hard, you feel everything on fire, every nerve ending lit up.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum!” You pant out the words, and Satoru’s moaning against you, leaning up, half his face covered with you.

“Cum all over my face, let me drink you pretty.” He’s not goofy, silly Satoru, he’s some damn sex demon now, as he flicks his tongue once more, and you’re shattering for him, pulling him against you as you cum.

Satoru rides it out with you, continuing to flick his tongue so fast, sipping up the wetness out of your soppy cunt. You feel so good you’re blinded, eyes blinking rapidly to try to focus, to try to cling to this earth. He’s more serious now as he exhales, fingering you again, sliding two in with ease at how wet you are, hovering over you.

“Such a good girl, came that much for me? Wanna taste it?” He asks, and you nod nervously, then he’s kissing you, letting you taste your sweet arousal. Your hands slide down his hard abdomen, over the ripples of muscles and sinew, until you find his boxers, tugging. “Oh fuck, wanna touch me?”

“Yes, please.”

“I wasn’t sure your first time.” His care melts you, melts any worries you have away, but when he takes off his boxers and you see him, you panic.

“Oh that will never fit!” You watch him chuckle then, his soft hair falling over a brow as you touch it, your tiny hand not covering hardly any of it.

“It will fit, I promise.”

“Will it hurt?” You ask, brows together, stroking him, watching his eyes flutter shut, biting his lip.

“I haven’t been with a virgin. Um, I hear it hurts a bit, but you’re so wet and warmed up, I hope it won’t for long. I’ll go easy on you, the first time.”

“The first time!?”

“Then we’ll get freaky.” You giggle again, stroking him up and down.

“Can I suck you too?”

“You want to?” You nod and he exhales, getting on his knees then, gently positioning you on all fours. “Fuck it’s like my four pm nap.”

“Huh?”

“I nap after work, and you are always in some position. Some new one. Legs spread, ass in the air.” He wraps your hair up, pulling it gently into a ponytail, his pretty cock so thick and intimidating, twitching as you flick your tongue on the pink tip. “Oh fuck, that feels good.”

“What do you like?” You lap at the pearly liquid weeping from his tip, tonguing it and tasting it, sweet and a little salty, before sucking a couple inches in your mouth, earning his little whimper, so sexy it makes you impossibly wetter.

“Anything you wanna do, fuck. At your mercy here, the tip is the most sensitive. Can you take more?” Satoru’s voice is soft as he presses in further, and you’re moaning around him, nodding. “Good girl.”

“Mmm.” You’re sucking more of him then, as you look up, seeing his perfect form, that happy trail of white hair under that flat belly button, his hard body tensing as you stroke him where your mouth can’t reach.

“Okay, too much, I want to last for you. Mmm.” He pulls you off gently now, pushing you back to lay down, settling between your thighs, fingering you with his two fingers again. “Are you sure about this? We can wait.”

“I want this, I really do. I have for so- ah- long. Toru! Close!” He’s sliding his fingers out then, leaving you whining, as he now presses his thick tip in your entrance, and your eyes lock as you gasp.

“Want to feel you cumming around me, love.” Love that little pet name is destroying you. “Relax, please, don’t tense, just trust me. I got you.”

“I trust you, Satoru.” He exhales then, head resting on yours, then presses in, and you whine out at the pain of the first stretch, and he pauses, groaning.

“Oh fuck you’re so tight. Are you okay, pretty?” You nod a bit, as he eases back, and you’re gripping his back so tightly your nails are leaving crescent marks. “Oh fuck…”

Satoru moans as he presses further in, and you’re full, too full, it’s like nothing you’ve known. He sinks in so deep you feel him in your stomach, feel him everywhere, burning the skin as it stretches to accommodate. Satoru studies you carefully, his brow scrunched up, cupping your face with one hand.

“Baby, you all right? Gotta tell me.”

“I’m so full. It’s just… a lot.” He nods, kissing you again, rocking his hips, and then his tip drags on that spot he’d just fingered, and it feels so good, you’re clinging to him. “There, there!”

“Here?” He does it again, and your eyes roll back, feeling him roll those hips, you’re wetter and wetter with every shallow thrust, and he’s whimpering again, his cheeks flushed pink, his lips parted. “Cum on me, please?”

You need no further urging, you’re soaking Satoru’s cock as you cum, and his lips drink your moans, his hands now holding your thighs, sliding them up further, starting to fuck into you now. You’re falling apart under him, moans ridiculously loud, pleasure is coursing through your body while he fucks you into another orgasm.

“Toru, Toru! Mmm!” Satoru’s pretty eyes look into your own.

“Can I go harder, love?”

“Yes, please.”

He laughs just a bit. “You can take it, huh?”

“I can, fuck I can.” He fucks you harder then, pressing your thighs up, and you’re struggling to take more and more of him, as he’s so deep he’s hitting your cervix.

“Feel me here?” He takes your hand, pressing it on your tummy, and he has a wicked grin as he slides in slow, and you feel him there, making you squeak. “You’re so cute.”

“Cute, still, while mmm… fucking?”

“Cute anytime. Cutie.” He smacks little kisses on your cheeks, somehow he’s dirty and sexy one moment, then sweet and adorable the next. “Mwah!”

“Satoru!” You giggle when he leaves a loud kiss on your lips, but then he presses in so deep and grinds, and you lose all sense. Everything is fading, floating.

“Call me Toru when you cum.”

“Toru!” You cum all over his cock, arousal dripping down his length, down his balls that are smacking your ass, and he sucks in a breath when he feels your walls fluttering around him.

“Trying to milk me, she’s greedy already.” You have no clue what he means, all you know is it feels even better, as he’s thickening inside you. “Question.” He huffs out then, panting over you, his chiseled body dripping in sweat.

“G-go ahead.”

“On birth control or I gotta get plan B?” You nervously bury your face into his throat, and he’s laughing softly, stroking your hair as his strokes slow. “Baby gotta let me know, I’m not gonna pull out, wanna fill you up.”

“I’m on the pill. And t-take it on time.” He sighs, tilting your chin up then, smirking deviously, eyes bright fucking blue and insane.

“I’d cum in you anyway, you’d be cute pregnant.”

“What now!?” He’s slammed his lips on yours again, pressing your thighs up, and then he’s fucking harder, sounds of your skin smacking mixing with your wetness, as he fucks you so hard your tits are bouncing, the headboard is smacking. “Taking it easy, huh!?”

“This is easy, love. Oh fuck… gonna cum…” He moans then, his hands cupping your face, and you feel him throbbing inside you, thickening, you are filled with hot ropes of cum, coating your walls, and you cum just from that, earning his groan. “Oh you’re such a good girl.”

He’s gently pumping, gasping as he pumps even more cum, and your muscles are already pushing it out. He sighs then, smacking kisses on you over and over, every inch of your face, making you so blissful, as he’s fucked any thoughts out of your head, you feel like you’re floating, clinging to him, nails digging in.

“This better not be just once.” He says with a glare, and you grin, shaking your head and brushing his hair back.

“Absolutely not just once. Oh! Ouch.” You hiss a bit as he eases out, and you go to look down, but he tilts your chin up, shaking his head.

“Don’t look, you’re always scared of blood. Gonna faint.”

“It’s that much!?”

“No, but you’re sensitive about that. I’ll be right back.” Satoru hops up and you look at the ceiling, you hear a shower running, see the steam rolling into his room, and then he’s back and cleaning you up, before picking you up in his arms. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

“Yeah, I would love that, Toru. Sounds so good.” He has you under the scalding hot water then, sudsing you up with bubbles everywhere, forming little puffy clouds on your breasts then rinsing them, laughing like he’s having a blast. You shake your head as you watch him.

“I used to jerk off when you’d take showers here.”

“You what now!?”

He just grins, pushing the shower head even lower. “Picturing you, did you ever… you know…”

“Satoru!”

“Did you!?” You look at his shower head nervously, then him, and he’s grinning even wider now. “Oh, you’re a bad girl.”

“Oh stop it, silly. Maybe once or twice. You have great water pressure. Ah, Toru!” Satoru is now on his knees in the shower, looking up at you and rushing that hot shower water against your clit. You gasp at it, as he wraps an arm around your hip to steady you.

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

Gojo Drabbles/ one shots - Masterlist

[crosshairlovebot]

bewitching mr. batchbury (part two) / crosshair x f!reader

pairing: crosshair x f!reader

description: after your encounter in the greenhouse, the distance between you and mr. batchbury remains...until a little bravery finally reveals everything - and i mean everything.

REGENCY AU

word count: 10,887 (pHEW!)

warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit sexual content. loss of vriginity (f). p in v s*x. oral s*x (f receiving). lots of kissing everywhere. handj*bs. f*ngering. gr*nding. unprotected s*x.

the long awaited part two of regency crosshair is here! thank you so much for your support on part one!! i got v carried away but i enjoyed writing this sm, so i hope you enjoy reading it <3

also posted on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

PART TWO

Since the night of the Across the Stars ball; the night where Cross—Mr. Carlisle Batchbury had seared his lips into your skin and irrevocably changed everything between you, you had not known a single moment of peace. You had returned home early that night, giving your apologies to the other Batchbury’s as you feigned a headache, and confined yourself to your room for the remainder of the night and the entirety of the next day.

You couldn’t face him again.

You’d heard the Batchbury’s return home from the ball, the noise of the carriage and their chatter travel up to your open window as they alighted. You strained to hear Mr. Batchbury’s voice but were not surprised he remained silent. You tossed and turned all night, the feel of his lips still ghosting over your skin, the way he held you against the hard panes of his torso still heavy on your body.

You had pulled the blanket up under your chin and squeezed your eyes shut, tears pricking them, mourning the fact that your guard had lowered so spectacularly that you had taken liberties where you shouldn’t of – given into the fantasy of being desired by Mr. Batchbury and being held gently after enduring his scathing words.

How could you go on? Knowing your feelings were known by him, and he could throw them back at your face without warning?

But you’d worried unnecessarily. You’d eventually come down from your hiding, entering the drawing room to see the entire Batchbury clan present, including Mr. Batchbury, who sat at the writing table as he always did, his back to you. The sight of his grey hair making your heart leap. Meg exclaimed your name and ran over to you, embracing you warmly.

“I’m so happy you’re feeling better,” she’d said into your shoulder, squeezing you. You saw Mr. Batchbury shoulders stiffen upon hearing your name.

You watched as he slammed his notebook closed, standing up. You took in his tall stature and fire eyes encased in a scowl – somehow looking handsomer since your last encounter in his casual attire of breeches and boots, white shirt and waistcoat.

Life truly was never fair.

You swallowed as his long strides crossed the room towards you. You thought he was going to stop, maybe say something to you. But he didn’t. He only brushed your shoulder and swiftly exited the room without so much as a word or glance your way.

You pressed your lips together as you blinked the prickle of tears away. The hurt form his retreat only confirmed that your decision to pull away had been the right one. That kiss really had never been more than a cruel joke for him.

Ignoring the pang in your chest, you pulled your focus to Meg, asking her if she enjoyed her first ball. She furrowed her brow, eyes flicking between you and her departing brother with concern before she launched into her retelling.

From that moment on, Mr. Batchbury’s fiery hostility had become iced avoidance, immediately vacating rooms when you entered them, the glare creased between his brows evermore present, if not deepened. You wondered why he was acting like that, when you were the one who had been hurt by his actions. He was the one who flipped between the acidic tongue and the one that caressed your collarbones, only to return to treating you with contempt, not you.

It angered you.

He’d held you so gently, words spoken so softly, and kissed you with such passion…you couldn’t stop thinking about it no matter how hard you tried. You dreamed about it, his hands moving all over you as they followed his lips, the contrast between his wooden one and the smooth skin of his palm alighting your insides. You’d wake up flustered and embarrassed, angry as wet pooled between your legs.

But you expected this behaviour from him – you always knew after he kissed you, he would return to his caustic demeanour, the gentleness he had exhibited only a brief game of pretend.

But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

His family seemed to notice something had shifted between you, but did not pry. Meg would look between you both with a frown, trying to decipher it all, but you always redirected any of her curious glances into her studies. She would huff and let you, but you could tell not asking you about it was making her all fidgety as the need to know only grew as the weeks went on.

Hunter watched you with a working gaze, seeming to read your feelings of angst as plainly as words in a book, but he never mentioned anything to you directly. Wrecker paid no mind to any tension and if he did, always tried to dissipate it with a joke or diverting tale. And Tech was far too caught up in his encyclopedias to even consider questioning you, on the verge of a breakthrough in his research paper.

You were grateful for their silence.

But you could not escape Mr. Batchbury no matter how hard to tried to avoid him, and he, you.

You entered the library one afternoon, and upon finding it empty, breathed a sigh of relief. Mr. Batchbury perpetually hid in here, away from everyone. But you’d wanted to swap out your book for another for days. You made your way over to the shelves on the far side of the oak-panelled room to return your book when you passed the writing desk. You paused beside it when you saw the pages of a notebook splayed open, ink drying.

You lifted the side gently to see the familiar red bound leather.

Mr. Batchbury’s notebook.

You peered over the pages, and felt your lips itch to smile at his neat, practised script, knowing he’d taught himself to write with his non-dominant hand. You let your smile drop, not allowing yourself to be caught up in him again as you read the first line.

With cheeks flushed in anger, I only grew fonder.

“What are you doing?”

The voice was all too familiar, hissed with such venom you startled and turned towards the door of the library. You watched as Mr. Batchbury stalked towards you, eyes ablaze with a fury you’d never seen him behold.

“Nothing,” you supplied, though it was obvious you had been reading his writing.

He slammed a hand over the pages and roughly closed his book. “That is private.”

“I’m sorry,” you said with sincerity, though his prose echoed in your brain. With cheeks flushed in anger, I only grew fonder. What was he…?

“Are you?” Mr. Batchbury spat at you, and you immediately stood taller, the beginning of repartee between you easily recognisable.

It was almost a relief, to have the familiar rhythm and emotion of conversation directed towards you instead of the cold glowering and hiding away from each other. A welcome reprieve from the frosty front he’d been presenting you since the greenhouse. His eyes bored into yours and his tall frame towered over you. To have him look directly at you with his coffee-coloured eyes, instead of not meeting your gaze, made your heart race and your stomach swoop with butterflies.

You stepped towards him, eyes narrowed as the words hardened your jaw. “Am I what?”

“Sorry,” he gritted out through his teeth and your breath hitched.

Silence befell you both and the unspoken hung between you heavily. Anger flared through you. What were you supposed to be sorry for? What did he want you to be sorry for? He was the one who should apologise for how he treated you and continued to. For how he let you believe for a moment he didn’t hate you.

I never once hated you, he had said between kisses, the words a caress on your hot skin as you lost yourself in his touch, in his tenderness.

And yet here he was, berating you for daring to look over his notebook.

You narrowed your eyes and took a step back. “I told you I was done playing this game.”

“Then answer the question.”

You scoffed. “Like you answer all of mine.”

He continued to look at you, port wine-stained eyes searching your face silently. Your own eyes travelled over his face and landed on lips you knew were soft and coaxing and heavenly. You shook your head. Your feelings for him were still so strong, and despite everything, you longed to be kissed by him again; to be held; to receive his gentle words.

Why was he like this? Why was he like this when he knew how you thought of him?

Why was he like this when he didn’t have to be? When he’d showed you otherwise?

“What do you want from me?” you whispered, and Mr. Batchbury’s eyes widened at your words.

His lips pressed together and you watched his usual stoic face cycle through several emotions you could not place, minuscule changes in the lines around his eyes and mouth the only clue of it happening.

“Crosshair, have you seen—oh. My apologies”

Both of you looked to the door of the library to see Tech standing there with a large stack of encyclopedias in his arms. Mr. Batchbury immediately left your side and went over to his brother, taking the books from him carefully and holding onto them.

“You shouldn’t be carrying these by yourself. Where’s your cane?” His voice was the most normal you’d heard in weeks, with a gentle kind of reprimand that made you flinch in surprise at how quickly his tone changed.

“I can manage,” Tech said, walking with a pronounced limp, but it did not seem to hinder him. “Have you seen the book on Entomology in the Outer Rim Territories? I require it for a reference in my Oxford submission.”

“I believe Wrecker is currently using it as a doorstop,” you supplied, watching as both pairs of eyes moved towards you. Tech nodded happily as Mr. Batchbury flicked his gaze away from you.

“Thank you, I’ll head to his chambers once I return these to their shelves,” Tech tried to grab them from his brother, who only angled them away from him.

“I’ll take care of that. Go and find your cane before you hurt yourself,” Mr. Batchbury ordered gently, and you felt your entire chest simultaneously expand and crumble.

“Very well. Thank you, Crosshair,” Tech smiled at his brother, pushing his wired glasses up his nose before bidding you farewell and exiting the room.

You heard Tech’s uneven footsteps grow quieter as he continued down the hall, leaving both of you alone again. You took in the sight of Mr. Batchbury with the encyclopedias in his arms. He cared so much, loved so much – this was the Mr. Batchbury you had fallen for, the one you continued to yearn for. The one who was attentive to those he loved, who was gentle and shouldered burdens. He was still there.

Just not for you.

You suddenly felt overcome with the urge to cry and you knew you had to get out of the library as soon as possible. You didn’t want to cry in front of him.

“I’ll just, uh—” you stumbled over your words, throat thick with emotion as you felt yourself begin to flush, eyes filling with tears. You ducked your head and quickly walked in the direction of the door. You heard Mr. Batchbury say your name as you passed his shoulder, and you turned hastily.

“I’m sorry, sir. But for what it’s worth, your writing is beautiful,” you told him, a stray tear falling which you hurriedly wiped away as you resumed your path out of the room. You heard you name once more but you dared not turn around again as you left the library, your book still in your hand.

Later that week, you sat at your dressing table readying yourself for bed when you heard a rustle, and something slide on the wooden floor. You turned around and frowned at a folded piece of parchment on the floor near your door. You pushed your chair back and walked carefully over to the paper. You toed it with your slipper before crouching to pick it up. The red wax seal was imprinted with the Batchbury crest and your frown deepened. What could it be?

You flipped it over, seeing your name in neat, practiced cursive on the front. Your eyes widened. Was that…?

You hastily unstuck the seal as carefully as you could, unfolding the page and turning it right side up, your chest heaving and heart pounding as you read the words.

With cheeks flushed in anger, I only grew fonder

Of the way she tarried with me

For she was the only one who dared say

The truth of her heart

And yet the pain of knowing

Of how she despised me was

A truth I could not change

No matter of the truth

Of my own

You read the words over and over again. Eyes tracing every curve of the letters, every indentation of the quill; of where it’s scratched against the grain of the paper. You felt your heartbeat increase, heat flooding your body as Mr. Batchbury’s prose settled in your mind. You ran a finger up the left side of the paper, which showed that he’d carefully torn the page from his notebook – torn straight from his notebook and given to you.

No matter the truth of my own.

You felt like you were going to collapse so you moved to the bed and sat down.

You smoothed the paper over your knees. You didn’t know what to make of it. All you knew was that Mr. Batchbury had given you a piece of his precious notebook, a piece of the inner workings of his mind. He wrote poetry – poetry that was about you. You thought back to all the times you’d tried to read over his shoulder, and how secretive and defensive he’d gotten about it. You thought back to the time when you found him in the windowsill, all those weeks ago, how even then he’d scurried away when questioned about it.

You felt your chest tighten.

I have never once hated you.

You covered your mouth with your hand and clutched the poem to your chest.

Now, in the Kenobi’s ballroom, a week since the poem had slid under your door, and several since the greenhouse, you watched Mr. Batchbury. His coffee eyes met yours and stayed there, unmoving. You took another sip of your champagne, your nerves rising and he mirrored your movements with his glass of brandy. You watched his lips on the glass, the way the corners carefully inched upwards as he looked at you. You quickly looked away and felt your entire body flush.

Something had indeed shifted since the poem have been delivered to your room. Mr. Batchbury no longer avoided you; vacating rooms upon your entrance ceased, and instead he seemed to gravitate closer to you, gaze locking on your every movement. You would catch his eye and watch the way they seemed to gleam with something. Anticipation, perhaps? Knowing? There was an air in his gaze you hadn’t seen before. It only made him look more handsome – devilishly so.

A cotillion filled the ballroom, and you tore your gaze away from Mr. Batchbury to watch Meg dance with Hunter. Hunter looked at his sister with so much love and pride, you couldn’t help but smile at them.

It was the final ball of the season, and all the Batchbury’s were in attendance tonight. Wrecker had somehow managed to worm his way into a conversation with Prince Skywalker and Queen Amidala, much to the chagrin of the snobbier members of the ton, but the Prince and Queen were in rapture. Wrecker’s charm was infectious, and they were not immune. Tech had wandered off to the Kenobi’s library, escorted by a Viscount by the name of Codius, or Cody, who will be one of his peers at Oxford next semester.

That left you alone in the ballroom, making eyes with Mr. Batchbury.

You smiled into your glass. There were certainly worse ways to spend an evening.

You had not yet had the courage to approach him about the poem, all your nerve flying out the window and joining the birds migrating south for the winter whenever you even as much as thought about it.

His poem had been so…honest. And you could not imagine how much courage it would’ve taken for him to slide it under the crack in your door.

So why could you not find your own?

The dance came to an end, and you clapped lightly as best you could with one occupied hand. You watched Meg and Hunter embrace and smiled again. You didn’t know what would happen when the season ended; whether you would return to your parents in the country or remain with the Batchburys as Meg’s companion. You hoped it was the latter, for reasons not only pertaining to your fondness of the young blonde woman who’d you’ve come to think of as a little sister; even if you trembled when you so much as felt her grey-haired brother’s eyes on you.

In the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar frame glide next to you and your entire body went on high alert, nerves preening and chest tightening. You slid a glance to your right as Mr. Batchbury had yet to announce himself. He looked handsome tonight, as he always did, in black trousers, boots and tailcoat with a deep red patterned satin waistcoat. With his white shirt, he wore a cravat similarly coloured to his waistcoat, but a little darker, closer to that of his port wine stain.

 You were blameless in the failed quest to find the courage to speak to him when he stood looking like that.

It was then he cleared his throat. “Would you care to dance?”

You snapped your head towards him, meeting his gaze with a shocked blink. “Dance?”

The corner of Mr. Batchbury’s mouth lifted slightly. “Yes. A dance.”

Was he really asking you? After last time? After all that’s passed between you? “With me?”

Mr. Batchbury averted his gaze, and you felt him begin to retreat. “Unless you do not want to.”

“No!” you said a little too quickly and a little too loudly. You closed your eyes and let out a breath in embarrassment, cheeks heating. You opened them again to see a lightness in Mr. Batchbury’s eyes. “I-I mean, I do want to.”

Mr. Batchbury gently took the glass from your hand and placed it on the tray of a server nearby before taking your hand. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you flexed your gloved fingers in his warm hand as he led you out onto the floor. His thumb ran across your knuckles gently before he let go, finding a place for you both and positioning yourselves opposite each other.

You studied his face. The furrow in his brow was there, but not nearly as strong as it had been these past few weeks. The lines of his angled face seemed…softer too, eyes not so hard and discerning.

You willed yourself to say something, and you took in a breath just as the music swelled. Both of you bowed and curtseyed before joining hands and turning once, switching sides. You held hands again and skipped one way, turning once more before skipping back. Mr. Batchbury was as fine a dancer as he was that very first time. And every time he held your hand, flesh or otherwise, you felt your whole body ignite with his touch. He was so tender in the way he held it, and you could not stop yourself from meeting his eyes. His discerning eyes stayed on yours and yours on his. You nearly missed the next step in the dance because you were too caught up in his gaze.

When you returned to the partnered portion of the dance, you knew this was your chance to say something; to bring up the poem. If you did it while you were dancing, there was less of a chance you’d lose your nerve. There was something else to occupy you, not just the mention of his gesture that still made your stomach somersault.

“Thank you,” you rushed out as you joined hands again, chests moving towards each other. You had to look up at him, heart pounding. “For the poem.”

Mr. Batchbury’s eyes widened a little, but he said nothing. You continued. “It was beautiful.”

Your bodies turned and you joined hands with the others, galloping in a circle once more. Mr. Batchbury’s hand was firm on yours and after a turn, you faced each other again.

“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice a little hoarse.

When you stepped together and then turned to switch sides, your foot got caught on the hem of your gown and you stumbled, gasping as you fell forward, gasping. Mr. Batchbury caught you before you went down, arms encircling your waist and pulling you towards him. You grabbed the sleeve of his coat and you both stood there for a moment, holding each other. Your faces were so close, noses almost touching. You could see the rough texture of his stubble and felt his hard torso press into yours, his body strong and solid against yours. You looked into his eyes, seeing every fiber of his irises and the dark lashes that eclipsed them when he blinked. His breath fanned your skin and if you leaned up just a little, your lips would touch. You longed to feel his lips on yours again, their soft caresses as they coaxed you closer to him. His words repeated in your mind.

No matter the truth of my own.

I have never once hated you.

The music came to a close and there was a smattering of applause, the sound bringing you back to the room and out from Mr. Batchbury’s captivating eyes. You found your footing, standing up properly and yet, neither of you let go of each other. You looked at your gloved hands on the sleeves of his coat and absently moved your thumbs against his upper arms. Mr. Batchbury’s hands on your waist remained there, never mind how improper it was. You didn’t care. You hoped they stayed there. To be this close to him again…well, it was wonderful.

“You…good?” Mr. Batchbury murmured lowly, his flesh hand flexing against the taffeta of your gown. Everyone had begun to move off the floor, but both of you did not move. You could only nod, your entire being completely encompassed with the feeling of being so close to Mr. Batchbury. You met his eyes and saw the way the crease in brow showed concern for you, not anger or contempt. You felt your chest expand and bloom with warmth for what you suspected, hoped, was the truth of his heart.

“Was your poem true?” The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them.

Mr. Batchbury’s eyes searched yours. “Which part?”

“No matter the truth of my own,” you recited back to him in a breath. You watched his expression soften, the lines around and between his eyes uncreased as his mouth slackened. You blinked up at him as he pressed his lips together.

“You memorised it?” you heard him murmur, like any more volume in your voices would shatter the bubble you’d both created. You nodded again. Mr. Batchbury’s breath hitched as his hold on you tightened. You watched his throat work as he swallowed before returning your gaze to his face. Did he just grow more beautiful?

As Mr. Batchbury nodded in response to your question, you felt your heart swell.

You had hoped and hoped, never did you truly believe.

“Mr. Batchbury…” you breathed, your eyes softening as you looked up at his stupidly handsome face. “You must know, I do not despise you and I never have.”

Mr. Batchbury’s eyes widened when you heard the clinking of a glass echo in the ballroom. Both you and Mr. Batchbury startled, turning towards the sound to see Duke Kenobi at the helm of the crowd, his glass in the air. You let each other go, suddenly remembering where you were and the amount of people watching on with interest. Your face flamed as you clasped your hands together. Mr. Batchbury sighed next to you, seemingly exasperated at the interruption.

“Dearest guests,” Duke Kenobi’s voice boomed through the room. “As we close another wonderful social season, I want to extend my deepest gratitude to you all for attending tonight…”

He continued on, but all you could focus on was Mr. Batchbury next to you and his response. His poem had been true; he had indeed grown fond of you, evident through not only his words, but his kisses and murmurings in the greenhouse all those weeks ago. But then why did he choose act so beastly towards you in those other moments?

Applause rippled through the ballroom, and you shook yourself out of the reverie and joined in. You looked up at Mr. Batchbury, whose pensive expression drew your breath in. What was he thinking about?

“Mr. Batchbury—” you began.

“Hey! Crosshair! Did you know Prince Skywalker’s friend, Prince Rex, is from our county?” Wrecker came bounding over, a sparkle of wonder in his eye. “He was adopted out from there and taken to the Kingdom of Kamino when he was a boy,” he continued.

“Fascinating,” Mr. Batchbury drawled dryly. You stifled a laugh. You couldn’t be mad at Wrecker, even if he had caused a second interruption to your much needed conversation.

“I know,” Wrecker bumped his shoulder against his brothers. Mr. Batchbury sneered at him, though Wrecker was unperturbed. “Anyway,” Wrecker said addressing both of you. “Hunter said it’s time to go. Meg’s getting tired.”

“Are you sure Hunter’s not saying that as an excuse to leave?” Mr. Batchbury snided.

Wrecker laughed. “Maybe. But I think we’ve all had enough of the season for this year, even Meg.”

You smiled. “Then let’s not keep them waiting.”

Wrecker nodded and continued to recount his conversation with Prince Skywalker as he led you and Mr. Batchbury out of the ballroom to meet with the rest of the family in the foyer.

Once you’d all bundled into the carriage, you were nestled between Tech and Crosshair, with Wrecker, Omega and Hunter on the seat opposite. Tech rambled on about the books he had discussed with Viscount Cody, while Wrecker argued his conversation with Princes Skywalker and Rex was far more interesting than some heavy book. Meg was dozing on Hunter’s shoulder, who kissed the top of her head, telling his brothers to lower their voices.

As the brothers chattered on, you stayed quiet, wringing your hands in your lap. Mr. Batchbury’s left thigh was pressed against yours, and all you could think about was the warm leanness of his trousered leg, and of his closed fist that sat atop his thigh. You eyed where the taffeta of your gown brushed the cotton of his trousers. You trailed your gaze upon that seam before landing on his hand. That hand had sat comfortably in the curve of your waist, fingers splayed and palm flat. It would be so easy to reach out to him now, curl his fingers around yours. You’d been brave tonight, but you could never be that brave, especially with his family so close. You were tracing his knuckles with your eyes when you felt Mr. Batchbury press his thigh firmer against yours, sending heat and goosebumps flooding your body. Your eyes snapped to him and saw him looking out the window, the ghost of a smile tracing the edges of his lips.

He'd done it intentionally. Butterflies erupted.

You smiled to yourself.

Meg’s dozing resulted in her completely falling asleep as the carriage rocked gently against the cobbled streets, so Hunter carried her up to her chambers like he would’ve done when she was a little girl, making you smile. You bid him and his brothers goodnight before retreating to your chamber, face heating and smile fighting against your mouth.

You climbed the stairs and travelled to the very end of the corridor. Yours was the only bedroom on this floor, which had been a little isolating at first, but had proved to be a good thing when you were told Wrecker’s snores could be heard from inside all of the Batchbury’s bed chambers. You closed the door behind you, smiling as you removed your gloves, pulling them down your forearms and placing them over the back of the dressing table’s chair. Glad you’d asked your lady’s maid not to wait up for you, you sat down and spied your reflection in the looking glass. You pressed your fingers to your hot cheeks and laughed to yourself.

Something had definitely altered between you and Mr. Batchbury. His poem wasn’t just empty words but portrayed his thoughts and feelings towards you. But you needed to talk more. He may have some kind of feelings towards you, if his poem and moments in the greenhouse was anything to go by, but you needed answers on why he acted one way and then switched his countenance. There had to be a reason. Because Mr. Batchbury wasn’t a bad person; he was filled with so much good and never did something without cause.

You had pulled the last pin from your hair when you heard a soft knock on your door. You frowned before standing up and crossing the room to open it. You gasped upon the reveal of who was behind the heavy oak.

“Mr. Batchbury,” you breathed. He stood tall, and he had removed his tailcoat and cravat but was still adorned in everything else. His white shirt sleeves a stark but beautiful juxtaposition against the red of his waistcoat and the lack of cravat opened the collar of his shirt, so the neckline gave a scandalous peak into the solid of his chest. He was breathtaking.

He said your name before asking, “May I come in?”

It was improper for an unattached man to be in the bedchambers of an unattached woman. But at this moment, looking at him in all his glorious handsomeness, knowing that you’ve tasted his lips, you couldn’t seem to care.

You stepped aside so Mr. Batchbury could enter, and you softly closed the door behind him. He looked around your bedchambers and you watched his face soften as he saw the parchment with his poem splayed open on the end table by your bed.

“We need to talk,” Mr. Batchbury said, his voice quiet and calm.

“Yes,” you agreed. “We do.”

There was a silence as he looked at you, his port wine eyes searching your face before he took in a deep breath.

“I…have never been good at…this,” Mr. Batchbury spoke, his voice thick like he was nervous.

“I learnt from a young age that being vulnerable got you hurt,” he continued, and your face softened.

You did not know much about the life of the Batchbury’s before they came into their wealth, but you knew it was filled with hardship, destitution and ridicule. Meg had given you a few anecdotes from their previous situation, of one good meal a day shared between five hungry mouths, of hard work as farm hands for a wealthy family who weren’t the nicest of people, of isolation from the townspeople due to their birthmarks. You couldn’t imagine a life like that, of the sadness he has known, and how it must’ve beaten him down so much that he believed being vulnerable was a bad thing.

“Though it is no excuse for how I have treated you, it is perhaps…an explanation. It has been a mistake, and it was unfair of me,” he told you. He fiddled with his wooden hand, anxiousness clear as he avoided your gaze.

“Mr. Batchbury…” you began but he interrupted you.

“In truth, you scare me,” he admitted, and you were taken aback.

“Scare you?” you echoed, and he nodded.

He swallowed before speaking. “From our first encounter…you stir something in me I didn’t know I could ever feel, and that terrifies me.”

You blinked at him before taking a tentative step in his direction. “Why? Why does that frighten you? You’ve faced death, been on a frigate during war…I am merely a woman.”

Mr. Batchbury let you come closer until you were standing toe to toe with him, craning your neck to look up at his anguished face. You wanted to cradle it in your hands and kiss his forehead. His throat worked like he was trying to find the right words, but he didn’t say anything. You reached out for his flesh hand, squeezing it in yours.

“It’s okay. You can tell me,” you assured him softly. Mr. Batchbury sighed.

“How can I find the words?”

“You could in your poems.”

“It’s different writing about you, from a distance, compared to standing before you while you hold my remaining hand.”

You smiled at him, body flushing with heat as your stomach flipped over. “Just try.”

Mr. Batchbury’s gaze never strayed from your face, he was silent for a while, his eyes moving over your features as his hand stayed firmly in yours. It was minutes later when he finally spoke words in a strained voice that took your breath away.

“I am unable to make declarations the way another man could, and perhaps you deserve another man, one who is kinder and more whole. But I fear whatever heart I do have is taken up by my love for you. And should you decide you do not want me; I don’t know if I’d survive it.”

You felt your chest expand as you stared at him, mouth agape.

Mr. Batchbury loved you.

His words sunk in, and it all came together.

Mr. Batchbury did not want to be hurt by you, so he continuously pushed you away with barbed words, thinking it would be easier if you hated him. You wanted to laugh but it was so incredibly heartbreaking you had no idea how to cope. The stupid man thought if you hated him, it would make his loving of you easier to bear. And that night in the greenhouse, you’d all but told him of your feelings, kiss him and let him love you without fear for a moment, only to reject him and run away, hurting him so much more than you ever realised.

It all made sense now.

“Mr. Batchbury,” you whispered, voice thick with emotion that pierced your throat and pricked at your eyes. When he didn’t look at you, you placed a hand on his right cheek, thumb grazing the bottom of his port wine stain, and said, “Crosshair.”

His eyes flicked to you, and when he saw your expression, he leaned into your touch. The gesture so intimate and loving you nearly sobbed on the spot. You tried again, your voice a little shaky but clear.

“Crosshair, I should never have left you in that greenhouse feeling like I did not care for you. The truth is my heart has always been yours. The game that we played, the one you thought would make your love for me easier, it was the only way I could have your eyes meet mine. I understand now why you did it, but to see the person I love look at me with such disdain…I couldn’t bear it any longer. Then you were so gentle, and you were finally looking at me with something other than hate and I got scared; scared you were doing it to tease me.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, screwing his eyes shut and holding your wrist in his hand, kissing your palm. “So sorry.”

You shook your head. “I forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Well, I do.” you argued back. “You say I deserve someone kinder and more whole? I say I deserve you. You are kinder than you believe. I see it every day in the love you show your family. I have told you this. You may have been unfair with me, but I could not love someone truly unkind, and you are the furthest thing from it. And whole? You are a whole, Crosshair. Why ever would you believe you are not?”

Crosshair held up his wooden hand with a sad look on his face. You only grasped it and kissed the wooden knuckles. You saw the way his eyes filled with tears, and so did yours.

“I don’t deserve you,” he shook his head.

“Yes, you do, Crosshair,” you smiled, eyes teary. “You deserve someone who loves you. And I do. And I will never not want your love.”

Crosshair shook his head and dipped his chin, so his lips found yours. You melted into him, and his arms came around you, pulling you closer until you were flush against his chest. Your arms draped over his neck as you kissed him like there was nothing else in the world you would rather do – and that was the truth. He pulled back and rest his forehead on yours.

“Why do you not think badly of me?” he asked. “I’ve made so many mistakes with you. I’ve made you cry. In the greenhouse…That day in the library…I have never hated myself more than I did when I saw that tear roll down your cheek. How can I make amends for such things?”

You let out a breath. “You have upset me, that much is true. But to make mistakes is to be human, Crosshair. How could I punish you for that?”

Crosshair’s hands held your cheeks, and he pulled back to look at you. You blinked up at him, and watched emotion flood his eyes.  

“Tell me again,” you heard him mumble, his left thumb caressing your cheek.

“I love you,” you whispered back before he whimpered and kissed you once more.

How had you gone weeks without this? You lifted yourself up on the tips of your toes and pressed into him. You made a soft noise as his arms tightened around you and you felt his mouth slowly guide yours open, and gasped when you felt his tongue moved against yours.

You’d never known kissing could be like this. His mouth was hot and wet, and you felt him moan as you attempted to caress his tongue with yours. It sent heat running through you and you scarcely wondered how it would look if someone were to come into your room now. You couldn’t deign yourself to care.

You loved Mr. Batchbury. And he loved you. Nothing else truly mattered.

Both of you now unencumbered with the fear of rejection, and consumed with the knowledge that your hearts were intertwined, neither of you held back. You felt his hands move up and down your hips before landing on your behind, squeezing you there and making you gasp.

“Crosshair,” you panted.

“For so long…” he whispered before his mouth travelled down your jawline, down your neck and towards the neckline of your bodice. You cradled his head, fingers gripping the short strands of his hair as his lips left a pathway of soft wet kisses across your décolletage. Heat ignited through you, your whole body encompassed with want and need. You felt between your legs begin to pool as his mouth found the swell of your breast as it pressed against your corset, and he nipped at the skin with his teeth, making you gasp sharply. You moaned before Crosshair dragged his lips back to yours, whispering your name like it was a spell. You kissed him harder before pulling back, hands holding his jaw. He looked magnificent like this, lips all swollen and eyes blown, hair mussed. You nearly moaned again as you brought your lips together.

“I need you closer,” you breathed against his lips.

Crosshair pulled back this time, smoothing your hair gently as he caught his breath. “Are…are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Crosshair groaned before kissing you again, his hands moving to between your shoulder blades, where the laces for your dress were. You gasped into his mouth as he tugged a little.

“May I?”

“Yes,” you answered him, all breath.

Crosshair pulled a little harder at your laces, but your maid had done them up tight and they weren’t budging at all. Crosshair drew away from your lips and tugged again, your shoulders jostling with the movement. You laughed as he muttered some choice expletives, before he met your eyes with an amused glint.

“You think this is funny?” he smirked. “I have one hand, I want my mouth on every part of you, and you’re laughing.”

Your smile only grew, knowing he was only teasing. You squealed when he turned you around, pulling your back flush against his front. You gasped and then whimpered as his lips found the curved of where your shoulder met your neck and he kissed there, sucking the skin softly before he drew back and worked at the laces again. You tried to reach over your shoulder to help him, but he swatted your hand away, determined to do it himself.

With one hand, he managed to pull at the ties of your gown until they were loose enough for him to undo the rest of them.

“Finally,” he drawled before he began pushing the gown off your shoulders. You helped him pull it off your arms and down your body, stepping out of it. You heard Crosshair groan as he realised he’d have to unlace your corset too.

“Christ, how can there be more?” he grumbled, pulling at the laces, making you laugh.

“I’m sorry, my love,” you reached up behind you with a hand and tried to help him. This time he let you, too eager to undress you to worry about his pride, your hands grazing over each other until it was loose enough for Crosshair to pull off completely.

You let the corset drop to the floor before turning to face him in just your chemise and stockings. Crosshair looked at you for a moment, eyes dancing with awe before pulling you closer and kissing you deeply again. You smiled into his kiss as your fingers moved to the buttons of his waistcoat, and you heard a chuckle rumble through his chest and lips.

“What is it?”

He just shook his head and shrugged off the garment, letting it drop into the pile with your gown. He then grabbed you, a mischievous smile on his face. You laughed as he guided you to the bed. You loved seeing him like this, so smiley and open. Never in your wildest dreams did you believe you’d ever witness a Crosshair so soft. When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you climbed on it and slid back, leaning back on your elbows and bending your stockinged legs slightly so you could see him, your chemise riding up your thighs.

Crosshair watched you with an unwavering gaze as he unbuttoned his shirt with the long deft fingers of his left hand. Your eyes widened when he revealed his bare chest, shirt falling off his shoulders.

He was…very well formed. In the candlelight of your room, his brown skin was illuminated in the most beautiful way, accentuating the sculpted muscles of his lean chest and flat stomach. You saw the way his wooden hand was mounted on the end of his wrist, a small leather belted strap securing it in place. The dip in his chest had a small smattering of hair there, matching the grey on his head. You trailed your eyes down to the stripe of hair that went below the waistband of his trousers and pressed the backs of your fingers against your mouth, in fear of moaning far too loud at the sight.

He was breathtaking.

You watched him as he pulled off his boots and unclasped his trousers revealing a mound of grey hair, feeling every nerve in your body tingling as the anticipation for what’s to come only grew. You’d read books, of course, heard chatter from maids and overheard conversations between men at inns, but now being on the precipice of it with someone you truly loved…your heartbeat raced in nerves and excitement. You sucked in a breath, growing wetter between your legs as he placed both hands on the mattress and leaned towards you. You felt him pause for a moment, slanting over you as his breath fanned your lips before he kissed you again, a little sweeter this time.

Your lips stayed locked as you reclined back on the sheets, wrapping your arms around his neck as he climbed onto the bed and over you, one of his legs slotting between yours. You gasped as his lips moved down your neck once more and towards your breasts. You mewled as Crosshair nudged the neckline of your chemise with his chin, his stubble rough against your smooth skin. He looked up at you, searching for approval which you gave with a quick nod before he dipped his lips lower, kissing the soft flesh of your breast, tongue lulling out and licking the skin before he sucked gently.

“Crosshair,” you said breathlessly, and he nudged the fabric down with his nose, revealing your nipple to the air before closing his mouth over it and sucking. You arched off the bed, angling into his mouth and his right arm slid under your back, cradling him to you. It was so obscene, and yet it felt so incredible you never wanted him to stop. You felt him move across to the other one, doing the same. Your leg went around his thigh, the cotton of your socking sliding against his leg, soft moans sounding as he continued to move his tongue around the hard nub.

You whined when he pulled away, kissing you again. You were quickly becoming obsessed with how he kissed you, and how he never seemed to want to stop.

He said you name against your lips. “May I—”

“Yes,” you interrupted him. You felt him grin against your lips.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“I don’t care. I know I want you to do it,” you told him honestly. He could do whatever he wished.

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against yours before he kissed you again. He moved off you, leaning on his right elbow, unable to hold himself up anymore on just one arm, as he shuffled down the bed alongside you, then moved down your body. You propped yourself up on your elbows again and watched as he descended, eyes locking with yours. Your breath hitched when pushed your knees apart, then guided the hem of your chemise up slightly with his fingers, the soft cotton travelling up your thighs until it was bunched around your hips, exposing the most intimate part of you. You watched Crosshair’s eyes darken and his mouth slacken after he swallowed at the sight.

At his inscrutable lingering gaze, you flushed and squirmed a little, embarrassment and self-consciousness rising in you. You’d never been so exposed to someone before, and it was unnerving. What if he saw something he didn’t like? You had no frame of reference for what was desirable or considered attractive by a man; what if you didn’t measure up?

You started to close your legs when Crosshair put a hand on your knee, stopping you. You met his gaze with hot cheeks, and watched the way his face softened when he realised you were discomfitured.

“Darling,” he whispered before pressing a lingering kiss to your knee. “You are breathtaking.”

You flushed again, heart squeezing at the endearment. “Really?”

“Really.” Crosshair confirmed and hooked one of your knees over his shoulders as he rolled onto his stomach and positioned himself between your legs. Your heartbeat increased as he drew closer to your centre.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Tasting you,” he raised an eyebrow before softly asking, “Is that okay?”

You shifted your shoulders awkwardly. You had heard of such acts, but it was regarded as quite…scandalous. “Is it not improper?”

Crosshair only tipped the corner of his mouth up in amusement, arms encircling your thighs from underneath. “Darling, I think impropriety went out the window when we kissed in the greenhouse. And again, when my mouth was on your breasts.”

You let out a loud laugh before you clapped a hand over your mouth, scared the noise might attract a stray servant. You smiled behind your hand, and Crosshair grinned at you. You still marvelled at how his whole face changed and lit up when he smiled. His port-wine stain stretching and the lines on his face creasing around his mouth and eyes in a way that made you want to kiss every single one of them.

“May I?” Crosshair dipped his chin down, eyes on you. When you nodded, excitement tingling in your veins, he descended down onto your folds, his hot mouth embracing you. You gasped, mewled, your hands found his hair as he artfully moved his tongue through the wet seams. Anybody who said this was improper truly did not know how wonderful it felt.

As he continued his ministrations, Crosshair’s nose bumped against the sensitive nub that shot pleasure down to your toes. You arched, fingers gripping his short hair as you began to squirm and wriggle against his mouth. You panted, whimpering as he sucked and licked you, pulling all kinds of obscene noises from you as he brought you such pleasure.

“Cross…” you could barely string a single word together.

You felt him hum against you and you shuddered, heat beginning to coil inside you. You closed your thighs around his head, grinding against his mouth and you felt his grip on you tighten, flesh fingers digging into the soft of your thighs as he ate at your harder. It was incredible, the feeling of pleasure he was giving you, and you wondered how he was so good at it.

You felt him suck at the nub and you jerked, yelping loudly before you clamped your one of your hands over your mouth. It was too much, the pleasure building, you arched and squirmed and you tightened your hold on his hair with your other hand. You panted, looking down at him. He seemed to sense you watching him, and flicked his gaze up to you, and you felt him smirk against your folds, sucking harder.

You moaned loudly, the heat inside you rising. “Cross, I’m—”

He hummed lowly again and that’s when he added one single long slender finger, slipping easily inside you to the knuckle, as he sucked on your nub.

You were done for.

The hot pleasure that had been coiling in your stomach erupted, and your hips rose off the bed as you moaned loudly into your hand, head thrown back. You felt Crosshair’s hand press into your stomach to hold you to the mattress, and you clamped your thighs around his head as he continued to draw your peak from you. You squeezed tight around his finger, and his mouth was hot and wet against you. You had never felt anything like this before. You’d experimented, of course, too curious about what you’d heard and read as you grew past your marriageable age. But the work of your own fingers was incomparable to that of Crosshair’s mouth and what he’d managed to draw out of you.

As your pleasure waned, your moans becoming soft whimpers, Crosshair’s work against you slowed until your shudders relaxed. You gasped as you felt him remove his finger, the loss of him a hollow feeling. You looked up at the ceiling and let your hand drop from your mouth, flinging your arm across the mattress as you caught your breath. The fabric of the canopy of your bed were nothing to the stars you’d just seen.

“You good?” you heard Crosshair ask, and you looked to see him to come up from your sex, mouth glistening with your spend. You flushed as you lifted one of your legs and he shuffled up the bed, leaning on his elbow next to you. His eyes all bright and port wine stain a deep red with the exertion of pleasuring you.

“Wonderful.” Your voice was hoarse, and you cleared your throat, making both of you smile. Crosshair lifted his flesh hand, and brushed your hair back from your forehead, avoiding using the finger that had been inside you. You then watched as he placed that finger inside his mouth, licking it clean as his eyes screwed shut. Your eyes widened at the obscenity of it. It was filthy, but mesmerising. You swallowed thickly.

When Crosshair opened his eyes, he smiled lovingly at you. “You taste incredible.”

You flushed and put your head in your hands to hide it. Crosshair laughed and gently pried your hands away, kissing the tips of your fingers. You leaned up to kiss him, capturing his lips with yours. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned, twisting and hooking a leg over his hips before flipping him, climbing over him. You sat back, straddling his hips, and you felt the hard length of him against your still pulsing centre. You shifted your hips a little, feeling it rub against you. You let out a strangled breath at the feel of his bulge hitting you right there, and with the look on Crosshair’s face, you guessed he almost did to.

His hands dropped to the crease in your hips as he looked up at you like you weren’t real.

“Darling,” he whispered, making you flush. Emboldened by the way he stared at you with such awe, you lifted the edge of your chemise over your head and discarded it. You watched Crosshair’s eyes widen as you revealed your naked torso, and his flesh hand ran up your stomach and around to your waist, squeezing there.

“I never thought I would ever have you,” he murmured.

You smiled and massaged your hands across his stomach and up his pectorals, you ran a finger down the dip in his chest, through his chest hair. “Me neither.”

When your hands came back down to his trousers, they travelled below the hem and when your fingers brushed against the hair there before they grazed the hilt of his cock, he jerked, sitting up, your name falling from your lips. You gazed at him and watched his mouth drop open as you moved your hand lower, and with your heart racing, you wrapped your hand around the hot hard length of his cock.

Crosshair hissed and tightened his hold on your hips. “Fuck,” he groaned out, eyes squeezing shut.

Your folds flooded again at the sound, of the uncommon expletive, heat swirling through you. He was so hard, you’d never felt anything like it. You’d thought about it, of course, but his cock was velvety and hot. You liked it. What would it feel like inside you? You squeezed a little and Crosshair made a choking sound, grabbing onto your hand.

“Don’t, or I’ll come in my trousers,” Crosshair hissed out. He looked like he was about to pass out, all flushed, hair sticking up everywhere from you grabbing it, his eyes half closed as he looked at you, panting. You loved it.

“Really?” you said innocently. “So, I shouldn’t do this?”

You thumbed the slit at the top of his cock, which was slick with a bead of wetness. Crosshair jerked and swore again.

“You’re torturing me,” Crosshair breathed out before looking at you with a devilish glint in his eyes. “What a witch you are.”

You smiled and leaned to kiss the hinge of his jaw. “Got you under my spell,” you whispered against his hot clammy skin and Crosshair moaned so loudly against your neck you felt it ripple through you.

“Lift up, darling,” he said, and you kneeled over him as he unlaced his trousers fully and pushed them down his legs, kicking them off so he was bare, his cock springing free underneath you. You barely had time to register it as he flipped you both over again, slotting between your legs, his hot length pressed against your centre. You both moaned at the contact, your hot wetness coating the underside of his cock and you ground against him.

“Need you inside me,” you told him, and it was the single most filthy thing you’d ever uttered.

“Believe me,” Crosshair said as he kissed you again. “I need that too.” His voice turned soft. “But, darling, I have…I have to be gentle.”

You blinked up at him, understanding what he meant. You nodded. “I know.”

“Just tell me, and I’ll stop. I mean that,” Crosshair urged, smoothing your hair.

You nodded again, your heart swelling with so much love for this man, you had no idea how you had gone through life without him, how you’d endured that distance even whilst under the same roof. You never wanted to be without him again.

You cupped his cheek. “I trust you.”

You watched Crosshair’s face completely melt at your words before he gave you a lingering kiss. “I love you,” he whispered against you before positioning himself and slowly sliding into your slick folds.

You hissed, eyes shut as he stretched you open, Crosshair’s hushed voice uttering apologies and guiding you to relax. Your hands went to his arms, and you held on tight as he seated himself fully inside you. He groaned as you squeezed him and when you opened your eyes to look at him, and he was gazing at you with those watchful eyes, seeing your comfort in your expression. The feeling of him was foreign, and you felt so full, feeling every hard inch of him inside you. But after a few moments, you gave him a nod and he slowly began to move his hips.

Crosshair was as gentle as he promised, you both moaned at the sensation as he slowly moved out of you, then back in. He kissed you again as his hips undulated with care. As he moved, the uncomfortable feeling eased, and his thrusts became more fluid. The hilt of cock bumped your nub, and you moaned at the continuous stimulation.

The feeling was euphoric, and all that tenderness you craved was there as Crosshair rolled his hips into yours. It was so easy. You thought sex would be scary, uncomfortable, painful, but it wasn’t. Not with Crosshair. He was passionate, and confident and yet loving. His hands were firm but never hurt, his movements intentional with the way he rolled his hips. How lucky you were to have him in this way, after everything, after all the confusion and feelings of uncertainty and barbed words. He thought you had bewitched him, but it was he that was the creature of myth. No one in the whole entire world was like him.

You covered your mouth as you were unable to hold back a loud moan, and you met his thrusts, wanting to feel all of him. His ragged breaths fanned your face as he looked down on you. You could see his arms wobble, the wooden hand not fit for holding him up like this, so you wrapped your stockinged legs around his waist, snaking against his hot smooth skin, and flipped him so you were on top. He looked up at you in surprise as you placed your hands on his chest and rolled your hips into him. Crosshair groaned loudly.

“Christ, you’re perfect,” he panted, hands guiding your movements as you moved faster. “Made for me,” he moaned.

You smiled, and you could feel that familiar heat building inside you. Your entire body was flushed, shiny with sweat and the sound of your bodies filled the room. Your breaths were loud, mewling and moaning together with Crosshair. You thanked the stars again for being in a bedroom an entire floor away from his family. You could not imagine facing them in the morning knowing they could hear you both.

Your thighs burned, but your pleasure was building as you, the wetness of your centre sliding against him. You wanted to keep going but you fell forward, sweaty body hitting his.

“Cross, I can’t,” you panted. But his arms wrapped around you and rolled so he was on top once more. You felt him slide out of you and whined at the loss of him.

“On your knees, darling,” he breathed, and you followed his instructions before you felt him push in again, his hands holding your hips. You cried out and then covered your mouth.

“Let the servants hear you,” Crosshair said, all raspy. “Let them know I’m the one making you feel like this.”

You moaned again as you felt him thrust at this new angle, and he hit places in you, you had no idea even existed. Crosshair’s moans and husky breaths filled the room as his hips slapped into your arse again and again you felt like you were going to split open in the best way. The bed shook, hair fell over your face, your arms trembled, your thighs quivering, the sounds you were making completely out of your control as they filled every corner of the room. It was ecstasy. The coils in you were wound so tight you were on the edge of falling again.

“Cross, I’m so—” you breathed out, moaning again.

“Go on,” Crosshair said huskily. “Let go, darling.”

With another rock of his hips you felt your pleasure unleash, your cry loud as your whole body shook with your release. You couldn’t keep your arms up, elbows buckling as you fell into the sheets. Your face in the silk and your arse up, you groaned, calling out Crosshair’s name, the muffled sound filling your ears as you gripped the bedding. How was this one stronger than the first?

You shuddered, your cries softening as Crosshair’s thrusts begun to slow. And when you peaked your head out from the sheets to look behind you, you watched him falter before swiftly pulling out of you and spilling on your lower back with a ragged cry.

You were mesmerised as you watched him stroke his cock until he was spent, pulling every last drop, breathless. After a moment, his eyes opened and met yours. You both gazed at each other, smiles creeping up on your faces as you gave breathless laughs.

“Sorry,” he rasped as his spend dripped down the arch of your back. “I made a mess of you.”

You shook your head, face flushed. “I liked it.”

Crosshair groaned, squeezing your hips. “Don’t say that. I’m not ready to go again.”

You laughed and watched him move off the bed on unstable legs. “Wash basin?”

“On the dresser,” you told him, and you heard him pad barefoot to the ceramic bowl and pour water from the jug. He wet the towel and walked back over to you. The cold water made your skin prickle as he wiped away the mess he made on your skin before he cleaned between your legs and his softening cock. You sat up, stretching your legs out as he walked through your bed chamber naked, returning the cloth.

When he faced you, he looked at you skeptically. “What is it?”

“Can I read more of your poetry?” you asked, almost shyly.

Crosshair blushing was not something you imagined he’d do after such a vigorously passionate intercourse with you, but watching his cheeks and the tips of his ears flush made your heart ache with love for him. “If you wish.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.”

“I believe you,” he smiled and after another moment of you unabashedly admiring his naked form in the candlelight, he looked at you with narrowed eyes and a teasing smile. “Was there something else?”

“You really are incredibly handsome.”

Crosshair barked out a laugh before crawling back onto the bed with you. You both pushed the decorative pillows off the bed before moving under the covers, your naked bodies finding each other and pulling each other closer. You tangled your legs together and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest. Crosshair pressed a kiss to your forehead. In the silence that found you, you listened to his steady heartbeat, feeling it thump against your cheek. You sighed with content. How was this real?

“Darling?” you heard him say softly.

You kissed his chest. “What is it?”

He paused before quietly saying, “Marry me?”

Your heart picked up and your eyes widened. You sat up to face him. “Pardon?”

“Marry me?” He repeated, his hand caressing your cheek as he looked at you so softly. “Please.”

You felt tears sting in your eyes and your mouth break into a smile. You leaned in and kissed him sweetly, his soft lips gentle.

“Okay,” you answered against his lips before kissing him once more.

i hope you enjoyed!

this is the last part of bewitching mr. batchbury. i would love to write regency tech and wrecker, but my schedule next year will be limited as i begin working full time. fics will still be posted! just not as often.

thank you so much for reading and for supporting my work <3

🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook @burningfieldof-clover @queencousland101 @clonethirstingisreal @skellymom @hopelessromantic727 @rebel-ezra @lulalovez

if you weren’t tagged it’s bc it wouldn’t let me/your blog didn’t exist

TAGLIST FORM

[shakespearean-dream]

i would adore ur ted ideas he is so interesting 2 me!!!!!!

ask and you shall receive!!!!

ted. teddigan. theodoreigan my boy. i have so many mixed feelings about u💔

this drawing was a pain in the ASS to make for some reason?? my first go at him was way too close to canon for my liking so i threw myself out there n got to a place i liked thankfully, plus halfway through i forgot how to draw hands and almost cried (joking) cause i thought i had them down at this point!!!!— but trust me, even if you have 9 years of art experience (like me unfortunately. someone take me out i’ve had a good life) ur gonna forget the basics sometimes. warm yourself up and try again cause i did and i eventually remembered 😭😭😭

doing these character studies and drawings have seriously improved my way and process of drawing faces which is so nice 🥲 i think i just need to start looking at the bigger picture again so i don’t forget how to draw everything else. like hands. or full bodies. foreshadowing ;)

i wanted my ted to look just a wee bit unsettling because my general consensus of him is that he is totally fucked in the head, lmfao. born a nepotism baby who ended up scamming people more for fun than for actual cash, horribly sexist but dependent on women to validate him, paranoid as all get out, selfish and self centered as all get out, just his canon personality’s all in one and turned up a notch. 🥲

i don’t think he’s totally beyond redemption, especially because he’s been cooped up with ellen, who is a highly decorated in the engineering field black woman, benny who’s gay and gorr “FREEDOM FIGHTIN’ LIBERAL🇺🇸🦅🦅🔥🔥�� ister for 109 years. in that time he’s definitely slipped up and they’ve definitely corrected him (along with nimdok too LOL). i think with some intensive therapy, a shower and a trip to the tolerance museum (south park reference) he’ll be a little better.

i’m a mild ted/AM shipper (as seen in the bottom right hand corner) but more in the “ooohehheh they’re flirting!!… oh no. oh this is not going to end well. this is definitely a toxic relationship” way and less the “awh cute maybe they can have mutual redemption arcs!!!” way because i love seeing gay men suffer romantically (don’t cancel me i am a bisexual man suffering romantically i swear😭)

i’m not too partial to any other ships honestly, ted/ellen makes me nauseous (just cause of the way ted talks about/treats her in the franchise, no hate to my tellen shippers i promise) and i can only see gorrister with his wife 🥲 with benny and nimdok i have no clue if either of them rlly have romantic interests but im not a fan of them with anybody so erm… i do love the whole groups found family vibes though :”””] they’re all cute together and the mutual suffering but all the while growth is comforting to me

i think that’s about all my thoughts!!! another thank you for the support on this blog recently i love yall sm. i’ll eventually post on my transformers blog but i am STILL SCARED because robots are hard to draw. stay tuned for it though. 💀

thank you for reading if you did!!! let me know which of the guys yall want me to do next; benny, AM and nimdok are left on the chopping block. ❤️

[coqvttes]

congrats on 600!! <3

꒰ 🍓 ꒱ — 𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐌 : send me a song & character and i'll write a drabble !

motion sickness by phoebe bridgers with old man leon pretty please i love angst

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 hey pookie! thank u for the request! i love this song sm and leon angst is soooso good. although i feel like he’d treat u good fr. sorry if this is bad and sorry it took a while <3

nsfw : fem!reader, alcoholic!leon, angst, alcohol, older!leon, p in v.

"i hate you for what you did"

you could never forget his promise to you, his promise to care for you, to love you, to treat you good like you truly deserve. but instead, you endure countless nights of him shutting you out, only to seek comfort in a bottle of old whiskey. you hated him when he was like this, drunk with no control over his emotions or most importantly, his words.

the things he would say to you, it hurt you, it cut you and it made you cry when none of it was your fault. all you wanted was to make things better. but you can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped.

"and i miss you like a little kid"

you miss the feeling of being held in his strong arms that once vowed to protect you forever, but you were young then and you were naïve. you miss how he’d always be there to help when you needed him, when you felt down. you miss how he held you gently, when he’d kiss your neck to tease you, to draw out your pleasure—when he actually cared for your pleasure. you miss when the feeling of his lips against yours was passionate, when he touched you gently, when you made love. you miss how he’d crack dad jokes to make you laugh when you felt like crying, leon made you feel safe.

"i faked it every time"

you don’t even remember the last time leon made love to you. you don’t remember the last time he told you how much he loved you. instead he was busy, away on important business that he never cared to tell you about because he’d say you didn’t understand, because you were young? countless nights of him coming back to you, your bed, to apologize, to make it up to you, but it didn’t feel the same anymore, the love, the pleasure. he wasn’t the same man you fell in love with.

"but that's alright i can hardly feel anything,"

so that’s why you don’t say anything when he tells you he loves you as he bullies into your cunt. the feeling all too familiar. his breath hot against your cheek slightly as he whispers those words to you. that’s why you don’t kiss him back when he smashes his lips against yours fervently. that’s why you don’t look into those ocean eyes that once held so much love for you, instead, you stare up into the blankness of the ceiling, just like the blankness in your heart. that’s why you don’t stay when he asks you to.

"hardly feel anything at all…"

tears in your eyes and he halts his movements, plopping down beside you to doze off. you turn to your side and pull the duvet over you, now the only thing that makes you feel protected. tears spill down you cheeks as you snuggle into the pillow, now damp. that’s why you realize now, that you don’t miss him anymore, that you don’t feel anything anymore. those feelings you once had for him, blown away in the wind that holds all of his broken promises.

[technicalgator]

🛠️“The Engineer, is Engi-here!” 🛠️

-

Finally finished my design of Engie! I love this cowboy sm <3

Ramblings and close-ups under the cut below!

A lot a people have their own interpretations/style designs of the mercs, so I thought why not make one of my fav merc? So here we are!

-

Engie is that he’s an all-round decent guy, and treats everyone with respect as long as that’s reciprocated! He’s transmasc and ain’t afraid to show it, and loves his partner, the other equally insanely smart man on the team, Medic! ✨ If you don’t find him tinkering away in his workshop or hangin’ out with the Doc, you’ll find him spending some time with the other mercs that he likes, or playing with his robot dog :D

🛠️BLU🛠️

Like most headcanons, Blu Engie is a defender/builder! You’ll find him setting up a nest of defenses at a good point, and a good spot for all the mercs to heal up with his dispenser! He rarely goes out into battle and prefers to hang back, but if any enemies do get close, he won’t hesitate to give them a few rounds of his sentry >:]

-

🧨RED🧨

Unlike Blu Engie, Red Engi is a battle engineer! You’ll find him running into the frontlines with his trusted mini-sentry, gear and Gunslinger! He craves the rush of adrenaline and thrill of the fight >:D (kill and maim!!!)

-

✨Decals✨

One of the mercs Engie gets along with and looks out for the most is Pyro! Engie and Pyro are like a fatherly/unruly child duo to me, where they got each other’s backs on the field, and Engie himself just looks after Pyro! Pyro also looks up to Engie, and will usually show his appreciation by placing stickers on Engie’s hardhat, and pins for his overalls! Engie at first was uncertain about all the decal, but after seeing how happy it made Pyro when he wore them, he wears the decals proudly! Engie has a different decal set for both Red and Blu! ✨

-

Thank y’all for stickin’ around through my rambling!! I had a BLAST drawing and designin’ my Engie! I have a doodle sheet of Engie I’m almost done with that I will also be postin’ soon as well! 🛠️✨

[deblklesb]

[Angel of the small death — Sevika × Reader OneShot]

[ballet dancer reader, bodyguard Sevika, smut (MDNI)]

Summary: Being Silco's daughter it's not some simple thing, especially thinking about the necessity of being guarded at all times. When a conflict starts, Sevika, his best employee, becomes your main bodyguard. It turns out things escalate a little bit until you bout break the tension.

a/n: boy oh boy this is BIG and it took me more time than i expected. this was an anonymous request so i can't tag the person who did it, but i enjoyed writing this, thanks sm! I'm so sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy it, anon! 💗✨

cw: some violence (a loose member), blood, smut (cunnilingus, masturbation, fingering)

not proof read | 5.2k words

[reblogs are highly appreciated!]

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Living is such a weird concept; that's all you can think about as you look through the songs on your playlists, laying on the bed. Nothing seemed to draw your attention, the assignment of your last class in mind created an urge to find the answers to your inspiration. It was a good thing, exactly what you needed now, and you couldn't let it slip through your fingers. 

The plan was to show your teacher how capable you really were. Composition wasn't an easy thing, and even though you loved that subject the song was a major part to determine your next steps on that project. So you were searching restlessly, seeking for that high only an insight could provide, as fast as you could. 

You had to interrupt your plans, though, when the screen of your phone showed an incoming call. 

"Hi, dad", the other side of the line was weirdly messy, he usually tried to get a quiet place before calling you. 

"You need to go to my office. I see you there in ten minutes"

"Is everything okay?" You sat on the bed. His tone wasn't usual either. 

"I'll explain later. Now go." 

When Silco tells you to go, you go. 

The fact was that you didn't like your dad's work. All the illegal shit surrounded the places since you could remember, even if he tried hard to cover it in front of a kid. The whispers and smiles, usually opportunistics but also nervous, the feeling of being treated like a rare piece, the fear exhaling from people who knew what was happening but couldn't tell. You saw how everyone feared the slender, incisive man. 

For quite some time you thought you should fear him too. But, for better or worse, he was a different person when he was with you. And as you grew old, he started to explain the situations and dynamics to you, teach you things, show what you could have. In your late twenty's now, you could use a gun and threaten people using an infinite amount of goons, but you definitely rather not. 

Another thing he did was give you whatever you wanted. And some would say that wasn't a good thing, but it wasn't all that bad either. I mean, come on; he would let you go to the water park and in exchange you wouldn't miss behave, it was actually a very fair agreement. So he let you play with puppies when you were young, go out with your friends when you were a teenager and, most importantly, he'd encourage you to be a professional ballet dancer. 

Thinking about his honesty and open conversations, you entered the crowded building right before David, your bodyguard, ignoring the loud music, usual from a never ending night at The Last Drop. Since that was a common scenario for you, stopping to look around and enjoy the mood wasn't necessary. Your father's tone on that call was enough to make you walk upstairs, directly towards his office at the end of the hallway. 

Aside from what you feared, the scene in front of you was actually kinda unsettling. For sure he was a man that started to tell you stuff while you grew up, but a bloody finger on top of the table was new - it wasn’t attached to a body. Red stains on the wood were shining under the lights, contrasting too much with the green bathing the room due to the big glass window behind his desk. The finger had a cross tattooed on it and a golden ring, both now looking uncanny under the crimson that drew too much attention from you. 

“You didn’t have a tattooed finger before”, was all you could say, almost out of breath. 

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?” 

Your eyes wandered around; there was the only unfamiliar thing, and still was capable of making you feel uncomfortable. It was a surprise for yourself, the girl who beat a school colleague at seven years old because she called you a bitch. Silco tried very hard not to congratulate you too much that day, speaking politely with the principal but also making a point of not allowing that other girl to get an apology from you; she was cursing you, not the other way around - and it wasn’t just because some childish argument, the fact that you were from Zaun made you a target of mean looks and disdain all around Piltover while growing up. That girl had it coming (a broken nose) and you got a popsicle. So, yeah, blood wasn’t that out of your reality, but for some reason that detached finger made you change the weight from one leg to the other, breathing deeply. 

“What happened?”

“Some idiot had the idea of snitching, we lost a guy who was in Rebecca's factory.” The well dressed man pointed to the bloody, sole body part. “This was her way of telling she found out about our plans”

“Point made, I guess”

“I just called you here so we could arrange things with David.” You frowned, looking over your shoulder to the serious, suited man behind. “I’m assigning someone else to guard you from now on. At least until this troublesome, unnecessary hostility ends”

“You’re trying to invade each other’s business, I’m pretty sure it’s not that unnecessary, dad”, the amount of discomfort was making you uneasy. That conflict was growing too much, a finger wouldn’t be the most alarming body part to appear around. 

As much as your dad had had numerous conflicts around, the tension between Glasc Company and your father’s business took a turn when Rebecca decided to sell drugs herself. Losing territory, the one he fought too hard to get, was very unpleasant.

So, with quick heartbeats and perspiring palms, you watched as your father gave David some papers and instructions. The tall guy nodded, turning and offering you a smile - probably for the second or third time, which made it look very off-putting for him. 

“It was very nice working for you. I never said a thing because it wasn’t part of the work”, it was more words than you’ve ever heard from him. His voice was different that you thought based on the monosyllabic answers he always gave. “but your book recommendations and songs were good. Thanks”

“Well, that’s more than I expected, I genuinely thought you hated me.” You chuckled. “It was nice having you around, David”

Then he left the room and you were left with your dad and that stupid finger, Silco seated on his couch and grabbed a cigar. “Aren’t you going to grab that finger? I thought it was rude to show it around for nothing”, you seated next to him. 

Even though your father wasn’t hurt, the aspect of where that war could lead to made you think about very violent and scary endings. He was a good criminal, but still a man, a mortal one.

“I need someone else to see it” He crossed his legs as you got closer, laying the head on his shoulder before he pulled you closer on a sided embrace. “She’ll come soon. Until then, tell me how your classes are.” 

He always did that, since you were a kid. Being on a college level didn’t make that much of a difference in his eyes, at least about that topic. He would listen to you talk about muscle pains and lame history classes, instrumental music, group dynamics and upcoming events. It was simple and chill, but it was his way of connecting with you in an area he didn’t know a lot about, aside from your yearly spectacles. 

“This new assignment seems tiring, darling” He observed. “But, like they say, break a leg. You will be just fine” 

Before you could make a joke about his use of theatrical sayings, the door swung open to reveal a tall, cloaked woman with short dark hair. The look on her face revealed dissatisfaction when she traveled it from the detached, bloody finger to you; the same you knew very well from everytime you both crossed paths. The same one you couldn’t forget for two days after receiving it. 

She just stood there, silent, hands on the side of her built body, looking directly at you as if she was waiting for something - or someone. You could involuntarily lose yourself under the grayish orbs, as much as you hated this fact, but an insight struck you. 

You backed off your father, turning to stare at him, not getting a single word in response. That must be a joke. 

“You can’t be serious”, the tone in your voice was almost desperate. He couldn’t be doing this, right? 

 “That finger points otherwise”

・・・・・・・・・・

Telling David you thought he hated you was a silly comment to cool the mood. Saying that Sevika probably hated you was an understatement. 

The first time you met she had just been hired and you both made a scene when she didn't believe you about being Silco's daughter. When your father introduced you officially, she just looked annoyed and bit back some unpleasant comment, knowing very well that it could cost her work. 

Since then, you haven't spoken peacefully with each other. She always had a snarky comment about your classes and the way you behaved - which, to be fair, she wasn't kinda wrong; every year you realized how stupid you could've been the year before, maturity didn't come out of nowhere. Sevika herself got more mature too. She was probably five years older than you and with much more life experience, but she wasn't the holder of all knowledge and could be very judgemental too. 

Putting you together wasn't a choice your father made for nothing. Sevika was his best employee. She fought better than anyone and would prioritize your safety at all costs, since it was her job now. That meant that if you wanted to go somewhere, Sevika had a saying on if you could go or not. If you wanted to visit a new place, it had to be checked before. If you wanted to stay up all night practicing in a studio you rented - because your apartment wasn't that big in order to not draw too much attention -, she had to be there and also get more people to guard the building. 

And that's exactly what was happening right now. 

A month since the finger incident, with Sevika being your bodyguard. She didn't look pleased. And you could say you weren't either… But that would be a massive lie. 

Because you liked her looks in your direction when you were getting out of classes, and you liked the way she rolled her eyes at your bad jokes, the ones you did solely to annoy her - you were very mature but you also loved to annoy her. You liked to stand next to her on coffee shop lines, instead of being in front of her, and you liked to dress better just so she could give you a look from head to toes whenever you got out of your apartment in the mornings. 

Honestly, who could judge you? 

You didn't realize those things until a week later after this whole shit started, when you tried to get off one night and accidentally imagine her. It was a very embarrassing moment and you forced yourself to sleep as soon as you got back from that high, but the image didn't fade away. The image of her towering you and kissing you, pressing her body against yours in the most desperate way. You got off imagining kisses and intimacy with Sevika. Not necessarily pornographic scenarios, no; just the thought of her lips on yours and how she would react when feeling you on her fingers, her face and the words she could say, the heavy breaths. That turned you on. The feeling of being so close you could feel the heat and your heart beat faster. 

You don't know what is the worst part: coming when imagining Sevika, or the fact that what got into your mind wasn't even that explicit. It was so simple, it made you pissed off about how she could affect you with so little. 

But it was just a fantasy, a distant and unrealistic one. She didn't like you. Right? 

Right. 

That ideas were fucking you up bit by bit. At this point it was difficult to practice, head far gone, not in the slightest focusing on that amazing song you got to choose - La Danse Macabre was one of your favorite pieces and fit the theme well in your vision. So you needed to compose a four  minute choreography and you have been practicing it for four weeks straight. You'd go from classes to the studio every day, staying up until late. Your feet hurt, your body was most definitely not that used to the extra effort, but it would be worth it. Not to brag, but it was kinda dope. 

So there you were, looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to convey all the feelings you needed to: the sensuality of death, calling the viewer in the most subtle and dangerous way at first, but ending up being beautiful. 

Your body gesture had to be on point with the postures and the weight of the moviments, it wasn't easy the fact that you would present it alone. 

At some point, you didn't know when, you noticed Sevika on the corner next to the door. She was just there, quiet, looking at you. 

Her presence threw you off. You slipped a little, losing timing and concentration. "Fuck", you hissed. 

The song stopped when you reached your phone to pause it. Looking at the time, it had been three hours since you arrived. Your legs were sore and, honestly, the concentration was so little that just the image of that woman was enough to make you lose it. Tiredness and frustration got into you, making you sigh and turn to her. She didn't move an inch. 

"What are you looking at?" That sounded more harsh than you wished.

"I thought you were a dancer. They usually are looked at, anyways", she didn't seem to diminish anything there, or to bother by your tone. That fucking look she had, the one that told you how you wouldn't get anything from her; it was nerve-wracking. 

You thought you saw her eyes wandering through your body, but it probably was just some illusion. 

"Yeah, I guess so", you shrugged, trying not to notice her posture or to imagine her torso under that cloak. And shirt. Numerous thoughts came back; no, illusions. Fantasies. Sevika holding you and her breath against your skin, would the feeling of her torso under your palms be so pleasant? Would her lips be so good on yours? Would the warmth give you butterflies? "Do you like what you see?" 

The fact that you said "see" and not "saw" didn't click immediately; you weren't talking about the dance. 

Sevika gulped. She gulped while analyzing your body on that collant and pantyhose, thinking about how your would skin feel under her touch. How she wanted to hear you calling her name and gasping, while she tried to make you feel so good like you never felt. 

The looks weren't just your imagination. The way she noticed you dressing a little bit differently, that was real. And she'd spent the day trying to focus on her work and not laughing at your horrible jokes, or not feeling too good about you succeeding in your classes and beating all those snobs' pilties. She wanted to congratulate you about the choreography and say how she would follow you without question if you were death, because dying under your hypnotizing moves would be a blessing. 

She wanted to say how you could do whatever you wanted to her. 

So that question was so timely. The smirk on her full dark lips made you shiver, a feeling pooling on your stomach, anticipation. Gods help you, the need to kiss her was so fucking overwhelming now. 

"I do, actually", Sevika said. "I like it very much. It's a gorgeous view"

It could be all. That moment could end and you'd never mention it again, leave it like water under the bridge. But, oh, you wanted to drown. You wanted to drink that water, savor it, until that thirst ended. 

So you gave a step. And seeing her chest moving with a breath, you gave another. You walked towards her carefully, like she could escape any minute, and when you were finally close enough that pressure seemed to crush your chest, taking the air from your lungs. 

In your life it wasn't that many times you'd sweat before kissing someone. And yet there you were, palms perspiring because Sevika wasn't moving.

"Show me how you like it, then", you said. "I'm a physical, practical learner, by the way" 

She chuckled lightly, looking away and then to you again. That could literally cost her life or yours. 

You could be the angel of her small death, and Sevika would die happily. 

Throwing all the reasoning away, she finally touched you. She pulled you close and erased the space between your lips, poisoning herself in your taste and your tongue. Your mind flooded with stimuli: her lips and tongue, her shoulders under your hands, the weight of her touch on your hips, the imaginary scenes your mind created to make you ask yourself about what you both could do. 

The small moan that escaped between the kiss made her hold you tighter, dominating that moment with her need. Her hair felt soft, intertwined with your fingers, and the muscles pressing yours made your head spin. It must be a gift from the goddesses. 

It didn't matter the other guards outside of the room or the building, right now it was just you both. 

"Show me how you like it", you whispered, untying her cloak to reveal her strong torso and shoulders covered by the dark shirt. "How you'd like to take me"

She groaned, kissing you again and pulling you by the thighs, forcing you to wrap the legs around her as she walked to sit on a simple couch there. 

The feeling of her body under your touch was capable of numbing your thoughts, skin warm and scarred. Her kiss was so fucking intoxicating, consuming you from inside out while she grabbed your flesh. 

When her lips traveled through your chin and jaw, going to your neck, you sighed and moved the hips on her lap. Your fingers got the elastic off her hair, letting the strands fall loose around her face as you pulled back to look at the woman. The dark grayish eyes and the full lips, beautiful nose, that jawline, some scars around; Sevika was so pretty it took your breath away. 

"I don't think you want to spend all the time looking at me, princess", she murmured and her voice made all your body respond. The smirk added to her movements to lose your hair from the high bun; fuck, you were out of words. "What? Did the cat get your tongue?" 

"I'll look at you a lot later", you finally said, fingers caressing her features as she analyzed you closely. "Now I really need you to handle me around" 

Sevika's smug was something so intimate to you, something that, you swear, could make you go insane. 

She pulled the straps of your leotard, eyes still glued to your reactions as the cool air reached your nipples, making you sigh. Without wasting any more time, Sevika held you by the waist with the prosthetic hand and used the other to play with one breast. A warm tongue tasted the other one, and she was so careful to let you feel every inch of that contact. You felt that throbbing between your legs more intensely the more she twisted the muscle, savoring, tasting. Her thumb and index finger played with the free nipple, shivers across your body making you breathe heavily with the sensations. 

Your hands worked on feeling every muscle you could, hips moving because the sensations spreading from between your legs through your body were getting more and more prominent. Her tongue was soft, but your attention got divided by the cool prosthetic hand pulling the leotard. You didn’t want to separate from her, but you had too. 

Sevika kept looking at your body as you pulled away, getting up between her strong legs. And she analyzed as you started to take off the clothes and the pointe shoes. Being under her sight like that was something else, you could feel your heart beating across your whole body, getting heated and desperate. Her demeanor, the laid back posture, spread legs and trenchant look got you wanting to get on your knees. And that’s what you did. 

Throwing the fabric pieces away, you started to unbelt her pants and pull the zip down while squatting and kneeling. She’d stare at you, at your easy hands and light touches going especially fast to open the clothing. The contrast between this and the way you looked at her could make her go impatient, but she held back the instinct to do everything on her time when seeing the hunger growing in you. 

“I thought you wanted me to handle you”, she smirked while raising the hips to take away the pants, after doing the same with her shoes. You helped, caressing the muscular thighs with admiration in your mind. Fuck, she was so beautiful. 

“And I hope you do”, you kissed the right thigh, trailing up slowly until you reached her crotch. Under the shirt you saw her abdomen contracting in response and the chest expanding with her heavy breaths. “Never rode someone’s face?” You smirked, right hand touching the side of her body, up and down. 

As you imagined, she then proceeded to lean in your direction while a hand grabbed you by the, now, loose hair. It wasn’t hard, but enough to make you throb and, for sure, get more wet. When she noticed your reaction was positive something shifted. Her pupils blown, and you could notice the mood changing by the glit in her eyes. 

She got so close the tip of your noses bumped, silence crushing you while she made sure you wouldn’t falt back. And then, you could swear, Sevika got a bigger hunger in her. “Finish taking this shit off”, she said. 

You needed a second as she laid back again. She arched an eyebrow as a cue for you to pull the boxers off, and as much as you tried you didn’t paid a single fuck to where that piece of fabric went. Not when Sevika drew you closer with a single ministration through your head, pulling you to her core as your heart beat faster.

She was wet and, fuck, she looked so appealing. Your mouth watered as you rested the hands on her bare thighs. 

“Tongue out”, you obeyed. 

Sevika finally pulled one last time and a satisfied, low sound got out of you, as you finally tasted her. And, oh, she was delicious.

Her hips started to move, the vision from that angle would never fade from your mind. She was enjoying this, dragging her core on your tongue, holding you there so you couldn’t leave, using you to her pleasure. And your mind was getting too crowded with that much information in the best way. Your pussy clenched when she moaned low, nipples somehow getting even harder to the point of hurting. Her taste was being scattered around your mouth and you wanted to be there for your whole life. 

“Flat your tongue”, and you did, with a rush that made her smirk. Her abs would flex with her movements, so as her thighs. 

Having Sevika riding your face was something so heavenly, so divine. You almost envied those girls in the brothel, who could get to do it so much, but then you'd remember that this woman was so worked up already because of you.  

Her bud against your palate, the juices going on your lips and chin, the expressions due to the pleasure that came to bestow her, the loose hair falling on her face and the muscles contracting. The little wet sounds of your tongue against her core made the situation more erotic, and at some point you started to move the muscle that was in contact there. It drew a moan from Sevika, who was using the left arm to sustain her weight while she rubbed herself on you, seeking pleasure. 

The more the seconds went by, the more Sevika loosened herself. She started to fault in her moves, twitching and spasming as her dark gray eyes ate the sight of you so eagerly tasting her. A small moan escaped, followed by a growl and her legs spreading more. 

Your hands flew to her breasts under the shirt, palming the warm flesh, searching for her nipples as you hummed against her core. The vibrations pleased her. 

The way you started to flick your tongue heavily got the tall woman groaning and pressing your head harder against herself. You saw the frown and the way her eyes rolled before closing, her body tensing, the shaky and sharp breaths as you felt her getting excessively wet. 

"Fuck–!" She gasped, a smirk on her full, attractive lips. "So good, princess", her words were as smooth as the caresses the woman made on your hair, still spasming everytime your tongue drew on her swollen bud. 

The flavor was divine; you thought as you palate went on her entrance. The fact that you could taste her forever made you hotter, eager, needier. 

Sevika leaned and pulled you again, making you sulk a little at the distance from that heavenly position. But then she got you back on her lap, against her chest, legs open. 

Even though no one else was there, you felt exposed. As if your secret were being revealed and, suddenly, the whole world could watch as your most recent forbidden fantasies played out. 

The way she held you there, prosthetic hand under a knee as the other one traveled around your naked body, creating heat paths on your skin. Her lips distribute kisses along your neck and shoulder, taking sighs from you. And underneath all of it was an overwhelming heartbeat that got you panting at the sensation of her touch going south. 

"Shit, you're dripping", she whispered, getting your attention. You turned to look at her, lips parted brushing on hers as her fingers went from your entrance to your already sensitive clit. "Got so worked up just from me riding your face?" 

"Yes…" 

Her digits, soaked, rubbed smoothly on your bud. You rested a hand on her hair, the other playing with your nipples as she tortuously stimulated your core. 

"So good… Do you get that wet when you touch yourself thinking about me?" 

You froze, eyes wandering around her face just to capture that smug. Despite that, Sevika didn't stop. She kept working on you, massaging your whole cunt, getting her own palm full of your moistures as you felt yourself throb. "I heard you one night. You didn't even notice you called my name, uh?"

Shit.

You actually did. With her on the other side of the door, you kinda expected that you had said it lower than it actually was, and that she hadn't listened to it that night. But it seems like life wouldn't let it pass.

"So now" Sevika kissed you, pecking on your lips as her fingers concentrated on your sensitive bud. "Let me hear you. Loud and clear" 

Her ministrations were making you move your hips. Everything started to be too much, her breath against your skin, the cold of the prosthetic hand and the air. You wanted to give in entirely, wishing you were at home so she could rail you on your bed. She increased the speed, having your moans growing bit by bit. 

It felt good. Too good. You kept messing with your own breasts, eyes rolling with your hips and her hand, feeling that high approaching. 

"Getting all loosen up and relax for me, I might as well fuck you again tonight, princess", she hissed, taking a small smile for you as two of her fingers pressed and got inside of you. 

You moaned more languidly as she moved with ease, in and out smoothly due to how wet you were. And it didn't take long until you felt that pull in your stomach, clenching around her digits and gasping, whining, a hand full of her hair as you moved without control. 

The climax made you arch your back, her fingers came back to circle on your clit again as you trembled and murmured some incomprehensible words. Throbbing and spasming; that woman made you so full of desire it was ridiculous. 

"Gorgeous", Sevika whispered, kissing your neck as you came down from your high, breathing deeply and feeling your body floating on her lap. 

"That was some stupid shit", you chuckled, panting. 

Her hands closed your legs and helped you turn a little so you could rest on her prosthetic arm and look better at her. Some sweat drops were on her forehead and the side of her neck, the dark skin glowing a bit. 

"I learned a lot today, thanks", the woman laughed, accepting your touch on her face. "It was very delightful" 

"I'm glad I could provide you some knowledge", her right hand rested on your thighs, thumb caressing your skin. "I hope on the future you can teach me how to make your fantasies come true"

At that, your core sent a shiver through your body, heat rising slightly. "Maybe someday I'll tell you"

Sevika nodded as you rested the head on her shoulder. She felt warm. Was it wrong to want her on your bed? 

"I'll look forward to it" 

・・・・・・・・・・

Your body was full of energy right now, the feeling of being on top of the world consuming you from inside out. It was almost possible to feel every molecule vibrating, twisting your guts. 

"Call another guard", you murmured to Sevika discreetly while passing by her. 

She followed you outside the building of Art classes, looking around as usual. The car was waiting, following the time established by orders. 

The whole way to your apartment was silent. Your class came back to memory, the sensation of finally presenting the piece you've been planning for weeks now. The music took you away and, during those notes that reverberated on your flesh, no one was there. Just you and the music, working together. And it didn't feel real when your teacher congratulated you with a smile on her fine lips; she wasn't the type of teacher to smile that much. That meant a lot. It was huge actually. 

But before telling anyone, you wanted to let all this energy flow to something else. To somebody else. 

So you waited until a knock on your bedroom door, and you saw her getting inside carefully, confusion on her face as you asked her to sit by a corner. 

Resting on your bed, heartbeat increasing, you moistened your lips. "Do you wanna know what else I fantasized about?"

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[dividers by @froopis]

[doodlemcjazzhands]

Hello!!

Just wanted to say that I absolutely adore your stuff :D always such a treat to see on my dashboard hehe

I get so inspired seeing how expressive the poses and facial expressions you draw are and how clean it all looks!! Crazy skills omg leave some for the rest of us-

Anyways!! Hope you have a lovely day/night <33

(Agony i had to send this as anon bc my marauders acc is a side blog,,, regretting doing that sm)

- @http-wolfstar

fdkjghjkfhgj omg hi!! Oh you have no idea how happy that makes me to hear! Thank you <33

Honestly, right back at ya! I love seeing your art on my dash!! 😭 It's so soft and cozy! It feels like getting a warm hug every time I see it

I hope you keep making art that brings you joy!! Have yourself a great day (and year, and week, and general existence)!

[onlyhaos]

🎐 — Happily Yours

Things can get awkward, if it’s the start of a relationship, right? But as long as it’s the right person, it’s only half as embarrassing.

pairing: minghao x afab!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: reader poked their eye, they’re both awkwardly in love but also not😭

[a/n] I actually had sm fun writing this small fic, and I want to thank everyone for the support on my last fics🥹🥹 I felt so proud of myself that people liked it. There are some chinese words, (with explanations!!) correct me if there’s something wrong or needs to be fixed🫶🏼 Love you all💞💞

This was your first real relationship. And being in that relationship, where you’d go on dates and everything made you want to be as perfect as possible. Though you couldn’t always be perfect, no one could.

So when Minghao invited you over, you didn’t know what was awaiting you.

Dressing into the summer dress Minghao once complimented you in, you made your way over to his house.

Since it didn’t take that long to walk to where he lived, you took the walk through the park. Listening to your favorite songs.

Smiling to yourself, you admire the green grass, the beautiful trees and the sun that’s warming up your already glowing face.

As you keep walking you see some flowers, blue flaxes. The thought of Minghao immediately came into your mind, he loved all flowers.

You picked up the five most prettiest ones, and continued walking.

So when you arrived at your destination, you rang the doorbell. Patiently waiting for Minghao to open it. But as the door opened, someone else stood there.

Minghao’s mother was at the door, you thought she wouldn’t know who you were, but she immediately smiled and welcomed you inside.

“Well hello! Y/n, right?” She asked with a smile.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m Y/n, hello Āyí*” your smile bright as you spoke. (*阿姨 - used for boyfriend’s mother, "mother-in-law“ before marriage)

“Dear, you can call me Māma*. I’m fine with that” She responded, her hand gently laying on your shoulder as she spoke. (妈妈 - Mother, also used to address mother in law)

“Okay, I’ll do that, Māma. Oh! And, I know it’s not much, but I saw some blue flaxes in the park. I didn’t want to come empty handed, take two!” You spoke, practically beaming with joy.

Minghao’s mother was really grateful, even if you only brought two flowers for her. She knew that they were handpicked, and that’s what brought value to such a small gesture.

And when you looked to the side you saw Minghao. He was just observing the both of you with a small grin on his face.

Following him to his room, he began talking. “Did you really prepare everything, in case you’d actually meet my parents?” He asked.

“Yea.. I did, I want to be as respectful as possible. Was it wrong?” You questioned, sounding a bit unsure.

Minghao shook his head. “It’s not wrong at all, it’s just really adorable.” He chuckled.

You laughed, asking him if it was really that adorable like he said. Earning a small ‘Yeah’ from him.

Looking around in his room, you noticed the easel that stood in the corner of his room. He was drawing right now, a somewhat blue canvas stood on the easel.

“Are you drawing the ocean?” You asked, hearing Minghao hum in approval.

“It’s pretty.”

“Thank you, it’s not done yet, but if you already like it then it’s a good sign.” He smiled shyly.

“Hao,” You said as you turned to him, who was already looking at you, waiting for your next words. “I also got us these flowers, they even fit perfectly to your drawing.”

Minghao was greatful, you were always really attentive and loving towards him. You treated him just like he treated you, but it still made him feel special every single time.

He thanked you, and observed the flowers the second you showed them to him, even asking questions about them. (even though you barely knew anything about them, they just reminded you of your boyfriend)

And even though he liked all flowers equally, he swore to himself that this flower would be his favorite from now on until forever.

Other people didn’t appreciate small things like you and Minghao did, the smallest things for each other lit up the other one’s day immediately. Because it came from your heart, they were sincere gifts.

Out of nowhere, Minghao had an idea. Going to one of his shelves he pulled out his newest sketchbook.

“Let’s put them into my sketchbook, we can let them dry and put our names next to it. Only — if you want to though.” He spoke, the undertones of the sentence were filled with excitement.

“Let’s totally do that!” You responded. “We can make those finger hearts I saw online. They were adorable.” Your voice proud as you told him about it.

Opening the first page of his sketchbook, you both laid your designated flower down on the paper. After moving them around, both of you were still contemplating if it had to be moved or not.

“Like this?”

“Mhm, that looks nice.”

A smile on both of your faces. Both of you decided to put your flowers into corners. Minghao’s flower was at the top left, while yours was on the bottom right.

Satisfied with the placement, both of you used tiny bits of glue to stick the flower to the page.

Making sure it was finally dried, you both began writing your names under the flower.

Both of you happily agreed to writing the date that you both got together down in the middle.

Grinning happily, you began speaking.

“It‘s so pretty.“

“It really is.” Minghao said, but not looking at the page. He was looking at you.

You didn’t notice that he was looking at you, so you began talking about how happy and grateful you were. How pretty everything was, how good the flowers looked —

“Y/n,” Minghao interrupted, his eyes still fixated on you.

Turning your head, you looked at him with a slightly lifted brow. Waiting for him to continue, what he was about to say.

“I love you.” He chuckled.

Your cheeks immediately went red, even though both of you said that already, it never failed to get you flustered.

“I love you, too, Hao.” You chuckled back, until a comfortable silence filled the room.

Staring at each other’s lips, from time to time, Minghao began moving closer to you. Gently resting his fingers against your waist, letting them slide down to your hip. Making your eyes widen and follow his hand’s movements.

But Minghao quickly put his other hand under your chin, making you gaze up at him, again.

Locking eyes, both of you were focused on each other. Inching closer and closer, making you get more shy than before.

Leaning in even more, both of you forgot to tilt your heads. And with your eyes closed, you were ready to kiss, wanting to close the gap so eagerly.

You noticed that you didn’t meet any lips though, but sure did meet some glasses, whining you noticed that Minghao’s glasses poked the shit out your eye.

With a small “Ah—“ your hand immediately flew to your eye. Rubbing it quickly.

Opening your other eye to make sure your lover was okay, you saw him chuckling and wincing a bit.

“Are you okay?—“

“Yea.” You said, having to realize the situation first, before you both began giggling with Minghao apologizing over and over again. Even though both of you weren’t careful.

So here you were, with a small ice pack on your eye as you both didn’t stop laughing about the kiss.

Even though you both agreed that it was a bit embarrassing, you settled for another kiss and let the previous ‘kiss’ be a new memory to laugh at.

[oya-oya-okay]

@anbaisai THANK YOU SM😭🙏💗💓💗💓

— Shuu rarely gets mad, but just like in your art, Azul is actually very intrigued by how she acts when she’s angry. Not that he’d go out of his way to piss her off *himself*, but he’s very much interested in witnessing whatever happens when someone else gets her mad… (while cheering her on internally)

OH MY GOD THIS IS REALLY FUNNY AND CUTE!!😭💕💖💕💖 TYSM FOR REMEMBERING THAT🙏

Most people just called Azul a freak, lmao, but I think he was just curious and wanted to have some fun🙂 If he saw how angry Shuu was with someone, it would probably be a reaction like "HAHA! LOOK, YOU MADE MY GIRL ANGRY" or "DAMN, DID YOU MAKE HER ANGRY???" depending on the situation, when it's funny and when it's serious :D LIKE:

And if she was really angry and upset, he would have supported her🛐🛐🛐

The rest are below!!!💓💓💓

— Every time Shuu compliments something about Azul, he’s replaying it inside his head multiple times. Sometimes he thinks about her voice when he’s really stressed. Floyd openly teases him whenever he notices

IT'S REALLY TOUCHING AND SWEET🥺😭💕💕💕 I LIKE IT😍😍😍 Shuu can sometimes say really unexpected compliments and praise someone. So if Azul would have said something like "YES! WE DID A GREAT JOB TODAY! WE GOT SO MUCH MONEY!✨" she would say, "OH MY GOD THIS IS AMAZING!! IT'S SO COOL, WELL DONE! I HAD NO DOUBT!🥰"

And if he were talking about some idea of his for work, she would listen carefully (even if she didn't understand something) and say, "That sounds really good. I think it's going to be great!" and if she knew Azul's position, "that you should always look good and presentable," she would start paying attention to his appearance and often tell him like, "You look great as always!✨ Wow, this perfume really smells delicious and suits you! ARE THESE NEW SHOES?! IT LOOKS SO COOL!"

Sometimes Shuu would be shy, but I think that her admiration for Azul would overwhelm her and she would just praise him from the bottom of her heart🤲✨💖 INITIALLY, AZUL WAS OF COURSE REALLY VERY CONFUSED, LMAO😭😭😭😭 he would have some stage of acceptance like "Why is she acting like this? Does she want something??? Why is she so suspicious?" but then he would have noticed that she was so silly and kind, so cute??? I like that he would start remembering her words, her voice, maybe it would make him feel more confident😭💕💕💕 YOU'RE A GENIUS... I IMAGINED IF HE WOULD HAVE A SLIGHT SMILE OR A PROUD LAUGH, AND FLOYD WOULD SAY, "AZUL, ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT SHUU AGAIN??? AHAHA! SUCH A PITIFU-" Not even in terms of romance, but just "you remembered again that someone said something nice to you and you keep thinking about it all day🙄🤭🤭" Funny to him~~💕💕

- Azul normally is very strict about his diet and turns down food he didn’t plan to have. However, whenever Shuu offers him a treat or snack, he finds it very difficult to turn her down and tends to make an exception. For some reason, it tastes extra sweet when it’s from her…

IT SOUNDS REALLY GREAT!!😭💓💖💓💖💓 It's a kind of tender weakness... SO CUTE XDDD💕💗💕💗 I really like it, I'M CRYING😭😭😭 YOU WROTE IT.. SO CUTE!!!🥰 Maybe If she offered him a snack one day, but then remembered his diet like, "Oh, I'm sorry, I-" and he just takes it and eats it, she'd be like, "😳💓"

I sometimes joke that Shuu doesn't like sweets because she herself is very sweet🙃🤭 MANY PEOPLE ASSOCIATE IT WITH SUGAR OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. Azul, be careful😎💗✨

I DIDN'T EVEN THINK THAT I WOULD SAY SO MUCH, TBH😳😭 I'D LIKE TO DRAW SOMETHING OUT OF THIS WHEN I CAN. THANK YOU VERY MUCH AGAIN!!!😍🙏💖💗💖💗 It was sooooo nice to talk about it😭💕💕💕

[jaidens]

Can you do a fic where the reader's been dating Sodapop for a year and she was a really bad father? She opens up to him about the trauma and he comforts her about it.

And Stood There Loving You And Wished Them All Away

pairing [s] : sodapop curtis x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : abuse (physical and mental) | short fr

a/n [s] : ty sm for the request 🫶

You and Sodapop Curtis have been dating for a year now, pushing through bumpy and love-stricken moments. You were considerably in love with the man, absolutely head over heels for everything about him. Sodapop cared: that was shown throughout the time you met him. He would treat everyone with respect, hoping they'd give it back, such as customers and even his brothers. You knew him as your life, the man who held you when times got hard.

You hadn't told him about part of your life, your childhood. If the topic was mentioned, you would switch it with a kiss on the lips or a hug that squeezed his organs around. He was curious about how you covered such an important part from everyone.

Sodapop looks at you, his hands enveloping yours. He can tell you're shaking, his hand going to lie on your upper neck; just below your jaw.

“It's okay. You don't have to tell me today.” Sodapop reassures but you shake your head, and take a shaky breath in. You grip his hand for dear life, holding you down to Earth when you begin talking about your experiences. You don't remember when you started crying, but all you feel is Soda’s calloused fingers rubbing away the tears that fall. You tell him about everything, as it all begins to fall out of you: covered up emotions and feelings.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry.” You beg out in worry about him knowing things you wanted to keep covered from him in hopes he would stay. Sodapop’s eyebrow raises and he looks at you funny. “Why are you apologizing, honey?” He asks and you pull yourself into his arms, crying into his soft shoulder.

He smells like everything you loved about him. It relaxes you once you get comfortable. “I’m sorry— I just, I kept that part covered because I was told it was an unlikeable trait about me.” You admit and Sodapop gives you a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Don’t ever keep something like that away. I had no idea why you were struggling, I thought it was my fault. And, it is far beyond an unlikeable trait. It shows how strong and worthy you are.”

You smile at his comforting words, giving him a kiss against his right after he said it. Suddenly, that weight that sat on you is disappearing along with Sodapop’s serious expression he puts on. “Thank you, so much. That meant a lot to me.” You thank his gently, kissing him once more and Sodapop pulls you back into his arms while his fingers draw hearts on your back.

“Always and forever, honey.”

[belit0]

can you please do madara with number 6 please and thank you also i love your writing sm <33

6) reader: You don’t have to be so gentle with me. You can hurt me if you’d like. After all, my body belongs to you.

I rly like the outcome of this one, and i think it's pretty obvious i have an obsession with portraying the Uchihas as wild animals🤠💕

NSFW prompts!

There is something fascinating about having one of the strongest men in the world at her feet, hands that killed countless warriors treating her gently, lips that spit fire to destroy entire cities kissing her softly.

Madara runs the completeness of her body with harmonic fingers, touching her like an oiled instrument and making her moan as he wishes. He controls her skin and sounds left and right, drawing boundaries only to break them and watch her plunge into the abyss of pleasure again and again.

Passionate lips adorn her neck with dark marks, denoting ownership over the expanse of her flesh, pretending everyone understands (Y/N) belongs to him. All his touches are quiet, lovely, full of grace and balance, almost as if the Uchiha was afraid to hold her too tightly and break her.

She has been wondering for some time what else is hidden in his desires, which of all things Madara does not reveal. It does not escape her attention how the man's gentleness is only present because he does not believe her capable of bearing the brutality of his thoughts, the rudeness of his needs, the real force he wants to apply every time he touches her.

The Uchiha limits himself, (Y/N) knows it, because he underestimates her.

There is a certain hesitation as his fingertips run over her clit, a slight analysis of how much pressure to exert, how far to go. A man of Madara's strength, she understands, would have to have overwhelming force when it comes to fucking, but he stays within a mild range.

She has studied his eyes, the questions forming in his pupils as he guides her hips up and down on him, how he assesses the severity of his grip as he squeezes her thighs, her wrists above her head, her neck as he chokes her.

Madara holds back, again and again, because he is genuinely afraid of hurting her should he throw himself into pleasure as he would really like to.

Tonight, as her man works his tongue between her legs, (Y/N) decides to change the course of their sexual encounters. It will take some encouragement, a little bravery, and preparation she assumes, yet the girl is determined to free her man from all the restraints he places on himself to protect her.

She grips his hair tightly, a gesture she's never had before, and forces the Uchiha to look her in the eye, compelling him to stop the activity in her pussy. "You don't have to be so gentle with me. You can hurt me if you'd like. After all, my body belongs to you. Fuck me however you want, I'm yours."

There is a shift in his eyes, a flood of thoughts running through his mind (Y/N) can effortlessly appreciate. First, he processes the information, hesitates about what he hears, and then he understands. He comprehends how the woman surrenders herself to his mercy, to whatever brutality he deems necessary to fill her with his cum, to whatever force in his hands he requires to be fulfilled.

There is no response to her demand, and (Y/N) believes her words fell on deaf ears as Madara resumes his assault on her crotch with his tongue, yet suddenly everything changes. Where once his hands gently held her pelvis, now his nails dig into her skin, leaving a red trail to his pas and earning a hiss from her.

His teeth close on her inner thigh, inches away from her pussy, and as he bites down he doesn't take his eyes off her face, red gaze recording her reactions to the sudden pain he decides to impart. There is blood running down her skin, red liquid he does not take long in eagerly licking, almost as if he needs it.

The Uchiha does not utter a word, but then again, he doesn't need to. (Y/N)'s confirmation is all he needed to allow his true nature to free reign, releasing his darkest desires and using her as he sees fit.

Pain will be his way of finding pleasure, watching her beg and react to his methods of torture, ways he deems appropriate to make her writhe under his lips, tremble on his fingers, and swoon at his stimulation.

He releases her still-bleeding skin to climb up until they are face to face, thrusting into her with a force he has never used before. Madara grabs her by the neck, genuinely choking her. On previous occasions, he would have the finesse to exert just enough pressure to cut off just a little of her circulation, but this time he seems intent on knocking the air out of her completely. His fingers close over her skin with a brutality (Y/N) is sure many of his enemies suffered, as he rams her like an animal.

His cock thrusts in and out without control, pounding skin on skin without mercy, and only releases her neck when he sees she is about to lose consciousness. Without much time for freedom, the skin between her clavicle and her ear is attacked by his teeth, and where there were once small, soft hickeys, there are now real bite marks.

He holds her pelvis with both hands as he occupies his mouth on her skin, and something about his uncontrolled behavior arouses her so much she can't help but moan as soon as her breathing is under control again. The Uchiha seems to approve, and bites her even harder, piercing the skin again and fucking her even more severely.

He lets out grunts with each thrust, his concentration completely devoted to (Y/N)'s pussy, his dick thrusting in and out with just enough brutality to rip through her from side to side. The woman thinks she is about to lose her mind from the force of his actions when she feels him come, Madara trembling on top of her and releasing her neck to moan unrestrainedly into the air.

The image he provides is that of a ferocious, unrestrained animal, a beast that only cares about its desires, its needs, and (Y/N) devours every second of it.

[ametrictonofaudacity]

yo you do platonic yanderes???? aroace yandere creator real??? love this love this sm can you do yandere platonic joker??? for like an artist reader??? maybe reader is rly nihilistic or rly funny or maybe they encountered once and he got fixated and wants to be buddies???

Absolutely!! Also thank you so much for the ask.

Trigger warning for: murder, violence, references to torture, manipulation, all around general bad times. This is, after all, the Joker, so this post will be more intense than the majority of mine will tend to be, I think. Also the use of the pet name Baby, but it’s strictly platonic.

It starts, as all terrible things do, at your college campus.

You were being held hostage. Which, while you were familiar enough with hostage taking in general, no one in Gotham wasn’t, you yourself had never been taken hostage before. You were also running on limited sleep, two redbulls, and the last dregs of your will to live.

So when the Joker points his gun at you and threatens to kill you in his strange, maniacal way, you throw your head back and groan, exhausted and frustrated and pissed. You tell him you wish he would, if it got you out of your finals. Something in his eyes light up, the acid green reflecting the light in an eerie way, and suddenly the gun is not aimed at your face but your leg, and he squeezes the trigger.

The last thing you remember seeing as you clutch your leg is the same hungry expression Joker always watched Batman with.

When you get out of the hospital, you have to attend therapy. You don’t have either the money or the patience, and leave after three sessions. The therapist was nice enough, but too focused on your lack of self-preservation and less focused on you being shot by the Joker. You do keep some habits, though.

You draw. You draw and draw as much as you can while you heal, and somehow, the Joker leaks into all of your works. A pair of scuffed up dress shoes on a menacing figure, a set of gleaming green eyes. Joker was haunting you, haunting your work, and you were fucking sick of it.

You don’t publish any of those pieces. You throw them in the trash, frustrated and angry, and crash on your couch, curling up to get some sleep. You ignore the rustling in your trash, positive it’s some raccoon or rat or some other vermin of Gotham’s street.

The Joker shows up again. He holds everyone in your job hostage, holds you hostage, and you are treat to the actively terrifying experience of having the Joker’s attention on you, solely on you. He’s not talking about Batman, or his plans, but is instead asking you questions with gleaming eyes and a gun nudging at your head. You answer all his questions as calmly as you can, even cracking a few dry jokes, and it does nothing to make the gleam leave his eyes but it keeps him from looking at the other hostages and you have to settle for that.

Batman saves you. And when Joker is carted away in cuffs, laughing, he calls your name, not the Bats.

He breaks out again. You know this because a dark shadow appears on your window, nearly every night, keeping watch. Sometime the shadows are smaller, sometimes they’re huge, and sometimes they watch with pitying eyes and a scarred face. You never speak to them, they never speak to you. You don’t mind your silent watchers.

Eventually, they leave, and you wake up in the middle of the night to rustling in your kitchen.

“What in the hell…?” You trail off, staring at the Clown Prince of Crime, who’s leaning against the counter with his jacket sling over his shoulder and a remarkably casual stance.

“You have absolutely nothing in your fridge, come onnnn.” He complains, before kicking your fridge shut. You wince. Your furniture could not withstand that sort of battering.

“Hey, don’t kick my fridge, I’ll lose my security deposit. You want me to make you something, after you broke into my apartment?” Your question is sarcastic, but it makes Joker grin, broad and victorious.

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind…” He teases, and you feel a shudder roll through your body. You don’t know if he sees it.

“Yeah sure, hold on. Hope you don’t mind ramen, I’ve got some instant packs I wanted to try.” Ramen was one of the few things you actually spent money on, getting the nice frozen packs with frozen broth and noodles.

“Baby, if you’ve ever eaten from the cafeteria in Arkham, you can eat anything.” Joker laughs, and the high pitched sound grates against your ears. You want to cover them. You don’t. You don’t know if he was arm, but judging by the way his shirt is pulled over his waist band, he was.

“Try eating from Gotham Community College’s cafeteria. It’s terrible.” You remark, putting both bowls in the microwave. Technically you weren’t supposed to, but there was so much wrong with this situation you figured you microwave could do you a favor and not explode this one time. Although with how the universe had been treating you, there was no guarantee.

“Eugh. College. Waste of time, if you ask me. Wasting time to learn to waste time, learning nothing at all! Experience is the best teacher in my opinion! Like those paintings!”

“Paintings?” You question, hissing when you almost burn your hand on the bowl. Joker snickers.

“Your paintings, baby! The ones you tossed, although I don’t know why ya did, I was so flattered being your muse.” He is suddenly RIGHT behind you, and you jerk, spilling hot broth on your hands and yelping. The scar on your leg aches with him so close.

You set down both bowls, hear him snicker.

“Are you telling me you’ve been going through my trash in case I tossed out a painting?” You blurt, turning towards him. He’s watching you, with those eerie eyes, and you know they’re going to fill your drawing pad and sketchbook tonight, insane and wide and terrifying.

“Well not me, not always! I was in Arkham for a bit, ya know, after the last time we got to see each other.” He drawls, finally leaning back, examining his nails. “I saw what you were doing there, ya know.”

“What?”

“Oh come onn. Batsy does the same thing. He doesn’t like my attention on anyone else, so he keeps me occupied. He’s obsessed with me.”

Your brain nearly stalls, because holy shit. You had known Joker was crazy with a capitol C, but you had not expected him to accuse Batman, of all people, of being obsessed with him. That was a level of so far gone it made your stomach turn.

“So do you have anymore paintings? I like the ones I got, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes the trash ruins them.” Joker asks, hopping up on your counter and grabbing his bowl. He doesn’t seem at all bothered by the heat.

“Uh, yeah, let me go get it.” You mutter, stunned. You still hadn’t recovered from the comment about Batman, the comment about you.

You manage to find it. You pass it over to Joker, hoping nothing in it gets you killed. He begins flipping through it eagerly, oohing and ahhing like a small child.

The rustle of pages stops, and you look up. Joker is looking at the pages with an absolutely hungry expression, eyes wide with a splitting grin on his face.

Your stomach turns. You slide your drawer open, silently, and grasp the handle of a knife, tucking it against the back of your thigh.

“Whatcha looking at?” You ask, trying not to sound too careful, instead passingly curious. You aren’t sure you succeed.

His eyes snap to you, and with a grin, he flips the sketchbook over, showing you.

It’s a sketch of you, and so many, many sketches of Joker’s eyes, all acid green and wide and maniacal. You don’t remember making it. But it makes your stomach churn and your heart race.

“Huh. Forgot I drew that.” You remark, brushing your hair back, keeping the knife hidden.

“Baby, come onn! We don’t have to dance around this anymore, ya know?” He complains, shoving the sketchbook into your hands. “No more of this pining from afar, we can finally hang out and do something fun.”

His vioce drops at fun, into something menacing, and you don’t stop, or think. You just act.

The knife goes slicing toward his face, ready to carve a new scar into it. He dips back, shrieking laughter escaping, and there’s a knife in his hand now, a gleaming silver blade that could bleed you dry, unlike the vegetable knife in your hand. He lunged forward, cackling.

“Oh come on! I know you’re not ready yet, but we’ll have so much fun! Come on, we’ll be buddies, it’ll be great!”

You’re dodging back from streaks of silver, which slash through the air, and then he dips low.

Buried his knife in the same place he shot you, in the thick scar tissue of your thigh.

You scream, the sound shrill and pained, and he shoves you to the ground, gloved hands covering your mouth.

“Shh!!! You can’t get Batsy running yet!!” He laughs, and you thrash against him, hot blood running down your thigh, fingers scrambling against his deceptively thin figure. “At least not until you’re like me.”

He presses a clothe against your mouth, and the world begins to flicker.

The last thing you see before passing out is acid green eyes.

[ladytauria]

trick or treat!!! 🎃🎃🎃

(and thank you for your comments on my lil drabbles!!!! i loved reading your tags & thoughts<3<3)

(<3 i'm glad! i love reading your stuff!! it's always so good! & ty for ur tags on mine, i appreciate them sm <33333)

this is a snippet from a wip i've been working on for... i think about a year now, lol. working title is "slipping tongues" & is v loosely inspired by that one panel, where jason calls himself "daddy" while defusing a bomb xD

i shared a slightly earlier snippet of it here~

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of all the things he could have said—

It’s all Tim’s fault. He’s been driving Jason crazy all night. It’s Jason’s fault, of course, for agreeing to Tim’s idea all those weeks ago in the first place. He’d been complaining, again, about his nights at the lounge, and at the time… Well. He hadn’t seen how Tim playing as Hood’s arm candy could go wrong.

Big mistake.

He’d forgotten just how much effort Tim put into his undercover identities.

Or—

No, that wasn’t quite right.

Jason had been expecting Tim’s identity to cater to their audience. And in a way, it did. There was nothing threatening about his appearance, the act he put on. The amount of conversations that had taken place right in front of him, as if he wasn’t even there would be infuriating if it wasn’t playing right into their hands. But the appearance of the disguise…

That was tailored specifically to Jason.

Subtle makeup to soften his face; just enough padding to give him the illusion of curves. Small breasts, a black wig, just a bit longer than his natural hair—and jewelry to draw the eye from anything he couldn’t disguise. And—look, okay. Jason is biased. He thinks obsessive, 72 hours no sleep, wearing his rattiest clothes, caffeine-addled gremlin Tim is hot. This Tim? Dolled up in provocative outfits and sultry make-up? He’s a goner.

And Tim knows it. He walks a fine line, teasing just enough to drive Jason mad without also compromising his persona as Hood. It’s maddening… and hot as hell. Could anyone blame him, if maybe his brains were a bit addled? Or if maybe, just maybe, he wanted to turn the tables on Tim, even if just for a moment?

Jason doesn’t think so.

If Tim asks, Jason will tell him it was a slip of the tongue. He got too deep into the Hood headspace. Otherwise—they can just… forget about it. Pretend it never happened in the first place.

Yeah. That sounds good.

[moonliched]

I just wanna say I adore your fic so so much. Everything is so nice and entertaining. I certainly can't wait for the proper meeting of the complete fishy bois. Also you don't have to compare the assistant ai!! I love bon-bon so much that he's growing on me like algae/lh

I love how he just worries about Y/N when they just brush him off saying they're just another replaceable cog to this system. Like the way he goes.

"But you're a person."

Makes me think he's not really well versed in stuff and still learning and that's what makes him so cute and fascinating. Bonbon our only ally fr fr

ALSO MOON!!! HE'S SO ANXNJEJDJRJF I JUST WANNA SQUISH IM AND BITE HIM. SHAKE HIM LIKE A FERAL DOG W THEIR TOY.

A MENACE.

I still snicker at the misunderstandings like Y/N trying to run away and Moon just goes "Play? Play! FRIEND PLAY!!!"

He's like a cat batting at anything that moves SJXJJEJDJDNEKD

Can I ask what he was trying to do, throwing fish at Y/N? Like I initially thought it was like a thank you but HAHAHA I'm not so sure.

I cackled on the bit where "IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME" Junior researcher. PLS YOU LITERALLY LIKE EXPOSED EVERY DCA ENJOYER.

NOT THE REDACTED IM FUCKING SOBBING OVER IT.

Bonbon literally has the normal reaction and reader's like wdym haha

I wanna ask so many questions but I must be patient and wait for everything to unravel OWOENDKSNDJD

Honestly I got curious and went to tumblr to see some extra content and it didn't disappoint.

I didn't expect the scene where Bronii and Y/N sees Moon glowing to be so ethereal looking!!!

He's sk beautiful augh. NOT ONLY HIM BUT OUR VERY OWN Y/N

Y/N is very pretty and i love them sm. I love the banter between them and BonBon. I just can't help but laugh that the bunny was going to jab about their ancestors in their oceanic planet.

I absolutely adore your AU and will keep rereading it <333333

I sincerely hope you recover well and take your time to heal before attempting to do more <333333 Put yourself first <3 we can wait

sneef aheem heem🥺 this is such a nice message🥺😭😭💕

i'm ecstatic you like it!!!!! tbh BON-BON is growing on me so algae-like that i need to elevate other characters so he doesn't overtake them😅 i'm sure some ppl know how it is when a supporting character kinda starts to overshadow the mains accidentally. but instead of cutting him down, the others will rise instead. also you're right, BON-BON has confidence but he's not as well-versed in relationships and social knowledge as he presents himself. he's naive, a little. and he has a mental hierarchy of AI at the bottom, living beings at the top that's being challenged by how carelessly Y/N is being treated.

i ADORE writing Moon! so when he was throwing the fish at Y/N, he was mimicking their tactic of using food to lure him forward. kinda like how they were doing with the crabs in that moment. he wanted to form some kind of trust using food and make them come closer. at that point he had yet to see them without their mask, so to his knowledge other communication methods like speech weren't available.

heeheehoo i wanted him to look very dazzling during the hypnotism scene🥰😳 and i noticed with half of his face covered with the esca he looks more human?? which would help with luring humans bc it kinda obscures the uncanny valley aspect of his usual face shape. i love drawing all of them!

i hope to update the fic soon! recovery isn't going as planned, so i'll be sure to rest, but i've been looking forward to answering this since i saw it in my inbox☺️and i love getting Q's about my fic. thank sm for such a nice message!!💞✨💗✨🌼💖

[mayisgoingnuts]

What made you like Roy so much? Or what is it ya like so much about him?/silly/genq

Ahem.

Short answer: Because he is relatable, all my interests can be found on him, he's my first hyperfixation that lasted SO long and I grew super attached thanksto parents issues similarities.

Long answer:

At first I didn't liked Roy or even the series at all to be honest, my first impression was that SM was super boring for some reason, but once Tender Treats was posted I got to see Roy once more and then find out about his parent issues which, shock, I also have. I got super attached literally out of nowhere, I liked Roy before even liking the show itself even, and it only grew once I analyzed a little better and then realized "Hey, wait, the uncle—" and then BAM, S/A is a topic I fucking LOVE to explore and study as a subject and in characters and it did not help at all. His voice also really got my attention because it's pretty much unique, and these sorts of details are nice to me because.. I don't know, I like it. Not even mentioning the voice acting because it's just GOLD, his little screams and voice tones tickles my freaking brain (not sure if I used the term the right way).

Also also I tend to like fucked up teenager guys as characters who hides under some sort of facade I already noticed that, happened with TOH (Hunter) and KNY (Inosuke). He literally gets into all my patterns of favorite character, even his fucking HAIR is my favorite type of hair to draw.

And and!! He is VAGUE wanting or not but not too much, I love these sorts of stuff because I get to use my imagination on those little "holes" while it's not too blank to the point it's boring. He has charisma, jokes are funny, etc. He is a fucking ASS and I also like that, not him bullying kids of course but I get attached to characters who are not 100% good people for some reason.

This mf has been into my brain ever since 2021 atleast and did NOT leave, maybe gave a break at the beginning of this year but returned like a fucking bullet. Literally just hyperfixation I cannot explain how much I love this boy/p, he's like a little brother I just want to hug forever and ever omfg. I need him adopted by me and I need him with no Carmen and no Richard anymore because looking at them and reminding me of myself with a mom who was already an ass but not on purpose to the point that not everyone agreeds that she's an ass is so frustrating I need him to have more justice than me. Literally man OC's that are close to him make me SO happy, seeing people draw him being happy also makes me happy, what he's feeling is how I'm feeling I do NOT fucking care which— Fun fact— if it's a fucked up fanart I also feel fucked up!!/lh

Anyway. He's the longest hyperfixation I've ever had, I went through all phases of comfort characters with him more than once (some definitely NOT proud of) and it kinda makes me even more attached cuz I got a story with this fucked up annoyed pinscher./aff

That's it thank you!