#I did not expect that someone would draw me this is a pleasant surprise

[captain-angler]

u so cool dude

HOLY SHIT? THIS IS SO COOL YOUR ARTSTYLE LOOKS GREAT 🖤🖤🖤 THANK YOU THIS IS FUCKING AMAZING, LOVE IT

[training4theapocalypse]

Never Been Kissed (Adrian Chase x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: SMUT, Second chance romance, Canon typical descriptions of murder and violence, Oral (fem receiving), P in V, Safe sex (male condom), Multiple orgasms

Summary: You're a PI who joins the 11th Street Kids after a chance meeting with John Economos on the dark web. Unfortunately for you, your ex-friend-with-benefits Vigilante is here too. (Based on this ask by anon)

A/N: This took a hot minute. The M&Ms were originally cigarettes but these days I'm a healthy queen free of nicotine -purr.

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Chapter text:

The dim fire exit sign outside the back of the abandoned video store flickers as you suck a peanut M&M between your tongue and the roof of your mouth anxiously. You hope your contact hurries the fuck up - if he makes you wait any longer you’ll finish an entire party bag from nervousness.

It was stupid, really, even reckless, to meet a stranger from the dark web. But when some guy called TechConomos_11 had responded to you in a chat room where you were discussing the intel you had on some sinister goings-on in Evergreen, you knew you had to meet him and his team.

Because you’ll be damned if anyone catches the escaped gorilla before you.

There’s a clink of a padlock and chain falling to the floor, the sound of a heavy emergency exit bar being pushed down and when the door opens you’re face to face with a large, bearded man wearing glasses. 

“Are you the PI?”

If you had to draw a sketch of what you thought a guy you met on the dark web would look like, he would be it. Not a neckbeard, exactly, just someone with the distinct aura of having too much time spent in front of a screen.

You nod. “TechConomos?”

“Call me John. Come inside - the team’s all here.”

You shove the half-empty pack of M&Ms into your bag and he leads you through to the back office. 

“This is Murn, Harcourt and Adebayo.” He gestures to his three associates sitting in the office who each acknowledge you in turn. “And these guys-”

“Fuck it! Fuck, fuck fuck!”

The yelling draws your attention to the window separating the office from the rest of the video store and it’s like a knife in your gut when you see him.

Vigilante.

“Ugh, fuck! It hurts to walk!” Vigilante whines as he limps around. He turns to pace some more but stops in his tracks in alarm when he sees you. He immediately dives to the floor, launching himself behind a desk in a futile attempt to hide.

Vigilante is the last person you expected to - or wanted to - see here. It’s not his usual MO - normally he’d be out hunting thugs and drug dealers. What was he doing caught up in this operation with some tech guy and a team who you suspected were either current or former soldiers?

There’s a roaring laugh and your eyes find Peacemaker, doubled over in his chair, laughing like an idiot at Vigilante sprawled on the ground. 

That explains Vigilante’s involvement. Looks like his idol, Peacemaker, is finally out of prison and the first thing he does is rope Vigilante into whatever this is. The whole thing stinks. Why is there an entire team with two capes looking for an escaped zoo animal? Any why did one of those capes have to be Vigilante? 

You close your eyes and groan. “You didn’t tell me you were working with them.”

“You know each other?” asks Harcourt.

“Just Vigilante.” You sigh and follow them into the video store.

“Hey, asshole,” you say, peering over the desk Vigilante is hidden behind. He looks up at you and props his masked head up on his arm casually as if you didn’t just see him throw himself there a second ago.

“Oh, hey!” he says, feigning pleasant surprise.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“I hurt my pinky toe.”

“Yeah? Which one?” You walk around the desk and stand at his feet to get a better look.

“Nononono! Wait!”

You clock the way his visor-covered eyes dart down to his right foot in panic. 

“Woah, did you think I was gonna kick you or something?” Sure, you have beef but you’re kind of offended he’d think that you’d harm him on purpose.

“No…” he mumbles sheepishly.

“Asshole.” You roll your eyes and sit on the hard wooden surface, turning away from him to face the team.

“Who the fuck is this?” Peacemaker asks Murn before looking between you and Vigilante. “Do you two know each other or something?”

You don’t deign to reply.

There’s a squeak of a chair being dragged on linoleum as Vigilante pulls himself up onto a seat next to Peacemaker with a wince.

“Economos says you want to join the team,” says Murn. 

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

“I know everything that goes on in Evergreen.”

“And?”

“I have information and skills that I want money for. Obviously.”

“How much?”

You were talking about splitting the reward for the gorilla but Murn’s expectant look makes it clear this is a contract. What’s that saying again? A contract in the hand is worth a gorilla in the bush? … Something like that.

“Well, what are you paying him?” You cast your eyes at Vigilante who shrugs. Unbelievable. “They’re not paying you? Idiot.”

Murn and Harcourt glance at each other awkwardly. “This is strictly off the books,” says Murn.

“So you were just going to take advantage of him? No way. I want my pay backdated for all the intell I’ve found for you. And his too for whatever it is he’s doing for you.”

“How do you guys know each other?” asks John, pulling up a chair behind his laptop.

You look at Vigilante warningly and answer before he can open his fat mouth. “I’ve sent some work his way once or twice. And compensated him fairly for it,” you add pointedly.

“Oh, they’ve definitely fucked,” laughs Peacemaker.

“Shouldn’t you be in Belle Reve?” You glare at him.

Peacemaker ignores the question. “Did he keep the mask on with you too?” He pouts faux-sympathetically.

This catches you off-guard. Not Vigilante and Peacemaker fucking - Vigilante is so obsessed with him that you guessed it was only a matter of time.

But he did keep his mask on.

Vigilante groans and leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and staring determinedly at his injured foot.

“Ha! I knew it!”

“Enough!” Murn gives Peacemaker a severe look before turning his attention back to you. “John says you know the location of what we’re looking for.”

“I’m not telling you until you get me up to speed with what you’ve got so far. John wouldn’t tell me shit online. Call it a show of good faith.”

“And we’re supposed to just take your word that you actually have useful information?” asks Adebayo.

John opens his mouth to reply but Vigilante beats him to the punch.

“She knows,” says Vigilante, finally looking up. “She’s… she’s a good PI. If she says she knows, she knows.”

“Well, we can’t divulge state secrets just because Vigilante vouches for you. Tell us the ‘where’ and if it checks out - you’re in,” says Harcourt.

You look around at this unlikely group. If you want to catch the gorilla you need their help. You need their weapons. You need their money.

“It’s at the Glan Tai bottling plant. You heard of it?”

“Pulling it up now…” John types on his keyboard. “It makes sense, Murn. They’ve got the production, the distribution channels… This is probably it.”

Distribution channels? What’s the gorilla at Glan Tai got to do with distribution? 

You keep your face neutral - if there’s one thing you’ve learned from this job, it’s when to sit back, shut up and listen.

You try to piece things together as Murn talks about ‘butterflies’ and their ‘food source’. Economos checks highway CCTV footage and confirms that your intel is correct. This is extremely lucky for you because you’re clearly talking about two entirely different things. You wonder if these ‘butterflies’ are some kind of parasite-induced sleeper agent. And maybe the food source is a drug to release them from their fugue state?

“...And the gorilla?” you ask eventually.

“What about the gorilla?” asks Harcourt.

“The gorilla is at Glan Tai.”

“There’s a Butterfly gorilla?” asks Vigilante excitedly. “That is so cool!”

“Is that even possible?” Harcourt asks Murn who nods.

You’ve seen some shit but a gorilla sleeper agent takes the fucking cake. They all seem totally unfazed so you pretend to be too.

“So, what’s our next move? When do we start killing these aliens?” asks Peacemaker.

Aliens.

You discreetly scan the others. Nobody else bats an eyelid at Peacemaker’s use of that word. 

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

“You two get some rest, come back tonight,” says Murn to Peacemaker and Vigilante. “And you - you’ve got evidence of what we’re doing here?” There’s no point in lying so you nod. “Bring it back here so we can destroy it. All of it.”

You, Peacemaker and Vigilante, leave the video store. You cross the street to get to your car but Vigilante calls your name. You turn around to see him hurriedly limping over while Peacemaker climbs into the Vigilantemobile.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re part of the team now.”

“I can’t return the sentiment.” You scowl at him. Peacemaker beeps the horn of Vigilante’s car. “You’d better hurry up - you don’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting.”

“We’re not in a relationship. You know I only wanted to be with-”

“Don’t you dare.”

“C’mon, can’t you at least tell me why you stopped answering my calls?”

“I already told you - I’m not going to wait around my entire life for a guy who won’t even show me his face. Or tell me his real name.”

“I can’t -”

“Save your excuses for someone who gives a shit.” Peacemaker blasts the horn again. “At least I know you keep the mask on when you fuck him too. It’s not like he’s seen your face.”

Vigilante’s visor-covered eyes avoid contact with yours. His hesitation is like a punch in the gut. 

“He’s seen your face?” You don’t mean to whisper it. The words just spill from your lips like you’ve been winded.

“Not like that. That was just a meaningless threesome-”

“But he’s seen it?”

He nods.

You push him aside to throw your car door open and get in. “Fuck you, V.” You slam it shut and drive away, not even bothering to glance at him standing haplessly in your rearview mirror.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening, you and John cross-check your intel. It’s becoming clear that this is way out of your fucking league. But if Vigilante can do it, you can too.

Right?

“You want some peanut M&Ms?”.

He accepts a handful gladly. “Why is so much of this about the fucking gorilla?” John asks with his mouth full, looking over your shoulder at your laptop screen.

The necessity of any quick thinking on your part is interrupted when you hear Murn’s voice ringing from the back office.

“You told Vigilante to kill Peacemaker's father?!” 

You and John drop what you’re doing and peer tentatively around the door of the office where Murn is berating Adebayo.

“I didn't tell him to… I just kinda put the idea in his head,” she explains.

“That Peacemaker would be better off without his father?”

Oh no.

“Where’s Vigilante?” you ask suspiciously, joining Murn as he stands with his arms crossed. He looks furious.

“He’s in jail,” mumbles Adebayo. “I might have suggested that if someone were to go in and kill Peacemaker’s dad, all our problems would go away.”

You run your hands through your hair.

“How could you manipulate him like that?” Your combat boots squeak on the floor as you pace across it, catastrophising aloud. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Vigilante is very fucking easy to manipulate. And he has a record. What if he kills someone in prison and gets locked up for life? Or what if he gets himself killed trying?”

“Peacemaker’s gonna see right through this. He’ll know exactly what you tried to do,” says Murn to Adebyo sternly.

They’re fucking crazy. 

“Who gives a shit about Peacemaker? Vigilante is locked in jail with the White Dragon!” You plead urgently. Vigilante is in real danger and all they care about is Peacemaker’s feelings.

“Economos, can you get Vigilante out of the system before he screws us worse than we're already screwed?”

John sighs. “I don’t even know this guy’s name.”

The four of them look at you.

You cross your arms. “I can’t tell you his name.”

“Guess he’s gonna die in prison then -”

“Last name Chase. First name Adrian.” You blurt out his secret that you’ve been holding deep in your chest. “But you can’t tell him I told you. He doesn’t know I know.”

You crowd around John’s laptop as he pulls up Adrian’s file. 

“We shouldn’t be looking at this,” you say as you stare intently at his mugshot - the mugshot you’re so well acquainted with. You’d rather die than admit how many hours you’ve spent sitting at your desk late at night, looking at his police record on your laptop.

And suddenly, it’s like you’re back in bed with him, as he stares breathlessly at the ceiling and you lie there naked on top of his bare chest, looking into his masked face, picturing that very same mugshot underneath it.

“Guess again,” Vigilante says. You can tell even under the mask that he’s grinning, enjoying your questioning.

“Hmm… are you a doctor? You’ve stitched yourself up a lot.”

“You think I’m a doctor and live here?”

Vigilante watches as you make a show of pursing your lips thoughtfully. The warm afternoon sun streaks through the gaps in his blinds onto his bed. It makes it look like there’s a golden halo around your messy bed hair. He tucks a small strand behind your ear as you walk your index and middle fingers along his chest and down his shoulder. 

“Maybe a fireman with these big strong arms?”

He likes you when you let your walls down like this. You’re almost downright playful when he’s satisfied you - a personality trait he still hasn’t extricated from you outside these four walls.

“Man, I am so good at this secret identity thing if I can keep it a secret from a PI.”

You laugh. “I guess so.”

He didn’t know that you had long known his real job. And his real name. Or that you’d trace your fingers over his face on your laptop screen as you tried to reconcile it with the masked killer who was content to let you into his bed but never his real life.

“Wasn’t he our busboy at Fennel Fields?” Adebayo’s question snaps you back to the present. 

“Can you pull him out?” You ask John.

“It’s… done.” He says, with a final click of his keyboard. “Let’s just hope he hasn’t done anything stupid. Yet.” 

Harcourt shrugs her leather jacket on. “I’ll pick him up.”

Great - first he reveals to Peacemaker who he is and now Harcourt who he’s known for a hot minute is about to see his face too. 

You frown. “He’s gonna be really upset we know his identity.” 

“You wanna come and soften the blow?”

“I’ll drive.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harcourt sits in the passenger seat of your car outside of the Evergreen Police Department. You’ve been sitting here quietly in the dark, staring at the front doors for almost an hour.

“So what’s your deal with Vigilante?” She asks, finally breaking the silence.

“I told you - I threw some contract work his way. Used him as a bodyguard from time to time when I needed the extra muscle.”

“And then what? Why did you call him an asshole?”

“Because he can be an asshole.” 

“That doesn’t sound right. A psychopath maybe. But an asshole? I don’t buy it.”

You keep your eyes focused on the police station door to hide your face. “He doesn’t mean to be an asshole.” You swallow with difficulty. “He just has a code. Lots of quirky little rules he has to follow that makes it difficult for someone ordinary like me to be - I mean, to work with him.”

“Like not revealing his secret identity.”

It’s not a question but you nod all the same.

“So this is your first time seeing him without his mask?”

“That he knows of.” Your forehead touches the cool glass window. It’s like if you stare hard enough at the door he’ll appear in one piece. “I had to do my background checks.”

The doors open and you see Adrian Chase in his cardigan and jeans walking out into the dark night, illuminated by the fluorescent streetlights.

He’s alive.

You roll down your window and he stops dead. He stares at you in shock with his lips parted slightly - unsure whether you recognise him or not.

Harcourt stretches across your seat and calls to Adrian. “We’re here to take you home. Get in.”

When he climbs into the back seat of your car you both turn in your seats. You breathe a sigh of relief seeing him up close - physically he’s unscathed.

“He’s still alive…” He says. “I’m Adrian.”

“Okay,” Harcourt says simply.

“I’m glad you’re not hurt,” you tell him.

He looks up at both of you sadly over his wire-rimmed glasses. “I think I might have made things worse.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After you drop Harcourt off at her motel, Adrian gets into the passenger seat. You let him give directions to his apartment, even though you already know where he lives.

“This is me,” he says when you pull up to his building and park in the spot you’ve parked in on countless occasions.

“I know.”

“Right. Yeah, you’ve been here.”

“A couple of times, yeah…”

His stupid code. You could know where he lives but never see his face. And now you can’t stop yourself from drinking him in - his slightly stubbly chin from his day spent in prison, the way his curly hair is all messed up. He groans heavily and leans his head back against the headrest. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“The guys know how you ended up in jail - they don’t blame you.” He doesn’t say anything. You search his face as he stares gloomily ahead. “What happened in there, V?” you ask.

“I tried to provoke Peacemaker’s dad into a fight. It worked at first - the Aryans took the bait but his dad saw right through it. I think I’ve fucked up the whole mission.”

So Vigilante went into a viper pit unarmed and provoked a bunch of nazis into fighting him.

Deep down, you know it’s fucked up to be attracted to someone capable of such violence but if you’re honest with yourself, it’s what drew you to him in the first place. You knew about the headlines before you met him. And the idea of him taking on a dangerous prison gang really shouldn’t make your heart pound the way it is right now.

You take a deep, steadying breath. “You don’t have to be sorry about that.”

You’ve never touched his hair before but you want to stroke it and comfort him. Tell him that it wasn’t his fault and it’ll all be okay. But he interrupts your train of thought before you can reach your hand out. 

“I meant I’m sorry about us.”

Why is your first instinct to tell him that it’s no big deal that he broke your heart? Stupidly, you want to protect him from it - from the hurt he caused you. Comfort him, put his feelings before your own just because you can tell that right now he needs it.

But it is a big deal. 

As soon as you remind yourself he couldn’t trust you enough to let you in, it feels like your heart is shattering all over again, mourning what you could have had.

Trust.

“I told the team your name so they could bail you out,” you admit, desperate to get the fact that you betrayed him off your chest. “I was worried about you locked up in there.”

He turns his head to look at you properly for the first time all night. The streetlights are reflected in his dorky little glasses.

“You knew my name?” He doesn’t look betrayed - he just looks surprised. “How…?”

You lift your finger from the steering wheel to point at his apartment. “Anyone with your address could find out who you are. And your full name appears on my checking account when you cash the checks I write you.”

“So you know… everything?”

“Yup.”

His eyebrows knit together in a plea. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

“I wanted you to tell me. I wanted you to want me to know.”

“Knowing my secret identity would put you at risk.”

“That bullshit and you know it, V. I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Yeah you do - that’s why you had me come with you on jobs.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Then why did you hire me?”

“I was curious about the man behind the headlines, I guess. Then I nearly went broke trying to spend time with you. Do you honestly think I wanted to give you a cut of my contracts for months? ”

He presses his palms into his eyes, pushing his glasses up out of the way and trying to make sense of it all.

“So those jobs were just you finding a reason to hang out?” He drags his hands down his face.

“Well, not at first. But then we started sleeping together after jobs and I wanted to keep doing that.”

“I would’ve wanted to be with you even without those jobs.”

“Oh yeah? You’d have taken me out on a date as Vigilante?” He opens his mouth to speak but closes it again - as if reconsidering whatever he was about to say. “After all that time you still didn’t trust me enough to take off your mask. The last time we saw each other I practically begged you to show me who you are. Then Peacemaker comes back in town and you - what? Just rip off your mask and spill the beans without a second thought?”

“I was being tortured by Goff-”

“The senator tortured you?”

“Well, the Butterfly who had taken over his body. But yeah. He - I mean she - ripped off my mask and tried to cut off my pinky toe. Peacemaker was just there.”

You feel sick thinking about him being tortured. Then you feel sick about feeling sick. It’s not just normal empathy. You want revenge. But you know you shouldn’t care this much. Not when you’ve been broken up for so long.

“Shit, V. That’s horrible.” 

“Besides, if I was gonna show someone my face it would have been you. Not Peacemaker.” He looks at you sadly. “I wish you hadn’t left.” 

“And I wish you had given me a reason to stay, V. I deserved someone who could trust me. And you… you deserved someone you could be yourself with. We couldn’t be that for each other.”

The hurt on your face is plain for him to see - there’s no point trying to hide it. 

“I do trust you. It’s just…” He hesitates. “You’re the only person I know who thought I was cool.”

“Adrian… that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Adrian.

It’s the first time you’ve ever called him that and it makes Adrian’s heart leap. Like the two sides of him have finally met you. After all this time.

“It’s not. Everyone else who knows me as Adrian knows I’m a loser. And I thought if I told you I was a busboy with no friends, you’d think that too.”

“You have friends.”

“Yeah, right.”

“The guys in the video store? They were so worried about you in jail. They like you a lot.” He allows himself a small smile like he doesn’t really believe it. “And I…” You pause. How do you feel about Adrian? “I still think you’re cool.”

“You do?”

He looks at you like he can’t believe you’re actually saying the words he was afraid you’d never say.

“Of course I do. You’re still the masked Vigilante of Evergreen. And I’m just… ordinary.”

He scoffs in amazement. “You’re not ordinary - you’re like the smartest person I know. And you don’t need to hide behind a mask to do your job. 

“I’m not that smart.”

“I mean, you found out more about the butterflies than the US government.”

You bite your lip, trying not to smile. “Can I tell you something? And you won’t tell the rest of the team?”

“You can tell me anything.” 

“I didn’t know what butterflies were until today.” He looks extremely confused so you press on. “I met John in a dark web chatroom when I was researching the missing gorilla. And I thought you guys were looking for it too.”

He laughs. A merciless side-splitting laugh that doesn’t take your embarrassment into consideration at all. But it shows off his beautiful smile. And when you see it you can’t stop yourself from joining in too. It’s so ridiculous. You wanted to find the gorilla, and maybe get your PI business mentioned again in the local paper. Now you’ve been roped into saving the world with a black ops team and Vigilante.

You both try to regain your composure and stare at each other, catching your breath. He shakes his head, grinning.

Christ, look at him.

“I sometimes wondered if you wouldn’t remove your mask because you were just a bad kisser. I mean, I saw your mugshot so I already knew you were pretty.” You can’t help but tell him. You know the grainy photo on his record like the back of your hand but in person, he’s frankly gorgeous. 

“Thanks, I know.”

You laugh again. “And modest.”

“You think I fund being Vigilante on a busboy salary? I get a lot of tips.”

“It all makes sense now. The only thing that doesn’t make sense is why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Because she didn’t want to wait around for an idiot who wouldn’t even kiss her.”

You stare at each other in the shadowy silence for a few moments. 

“It’s late, we should both get some rest.”

“Wait, don’t go.” His hand touches your thigh and it feels like there’s an electric current buzzing between his hand and the fabric of your jeans. The atmosphere almost crackles, like lighting about to strike in the middle of a storm. It’s the first time he’s touched you since you walked out on him six months ago and never went back. “It’s super late, you should crash at mine.”

“If I come upstairs we both know what’s going to happen.”

He tilts his head and you watch dimples form as the corners of his mouth turn into a mischievous smile. “That’s kind of the idea.”

“A bad one. We need to work together.”

“When has fucking ever stopped us from completing a job?”

“It hasn’t. But when we stopped seeing each other… I was really cut up. I couldn’t concentrate on work for a while. It’s why I needed the reward for the gorilla so badly.”

“Then we just won’t stop this time.”

“Adrian… I’ve only just pulled myself together again. I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do.”

He removes his hand from your leg to unclip his seatbelt. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Adrian gives you an apologetic look. 

You stare at his lips. They’re just there. His whole face is out in the open. And now his lips, and the rest of him, are about to leave your car and you never know when you’ll see him unmasked again. He opens the car door.

“Wait -”

He turns back around in his seat.

“Let me find out if you’re a bad kisser. At least I can tell myself I’m not missing out on anything if you are.”

“You’re gonna be so mad…” He cups your face and brushes your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’m a really good kisser.”

You smile and his lips meet yours. 

It’s nothing like you imagined.

When you had sex it always felt urgent, even dangerous, getting into bed with a masked cape who was wanted for murder. More often than not he fucked you from behind, tugged fistfuls of your hair and slapped your ass. 

But his kisses… his kisses are soft and slow. And good.

You’re totally screwed.

He sucks your lip gently and then his tongue traces across yours. You urge yourself forward in the driver’s seat closer to him, bringing your hand up to cradle the nape of his neck and lace your hand in his soft hair.

Warmth spreads in your chest when he deepens the kiss. You secretly hoped he’d be like this when he was unmasked. Your hot and rough encounters were always fun but in your heart you always wanted him to want you like this. Deeply. Reverently. 

You break apart and press your forehead against his with your eyes closed, feeling your heart hammering against your chest.

“What’s the verdict?” he asks.

You open your eyes to see his green ones searching yours from behind his glasses. He lets out a long, happy exhale when he hears your seatbelt unclick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adrian’s bedroom is neat, clean, with framed vintage comic books on his walls and illuminated by a lava lamp on his bedside table. Details you remember from previous visits but barely register this time as you both burst through his bedroom door while he kisses you. Refusing to take his hands from your body, he kicks the door shut behind him forgetting about his injured foot. He regrets it immediately.

“Fuck!” He pulls away and winces.

“Careful,” you soothe, shrugging your jacket off onto the floor and he lifts your shirt off. As soon as your skin is uncovered his mouth finds it. He drags his tongue across your collarbones and between your breasts, nudging the cup of your bra aside so he can find your nipple.

His warm mouth feels almost too good to be true as he sucks on the hard, pebbled skin and moves on to taste every inch of your exposed chest, his deft hands unhooking your bra and tossing it aside quickly. 

The entire day could have been a crazy fever dream. You’ve gone from your heart sinking at the very sight of him to it fluttering like crazy as you lie back on his mattress so he can pull your jeans and underwear off.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he says, sinking to his knees between your legs at the edge of the bed.

Even though you’re completely naked on his bed while he’s still dressed, you somehow feel less on display than he is right now without his mask. It feels taboo watching his jaw muscles tighten as he works his mouth all over your inner thighs. There’s something so controlled about the way he meticulously kisses the sensitive skin at the crux of your thigh that makes your lip quiver. 

You’ve spent enough time around his quick reflexes to know Vigilante is going to be skilled at eating you out but sometimes, especially in the depths of your despair during your breakup, there was a niggling inkling at the back of your mind that the mask might just be a convenient excuse not to. 

You had suspected, or maybe even hoped, when you hooked up that he had come really, really close to rolling up the bottom half of his mask and tasting you. More than once, you had caught a fleeting glimpse of him at odds with himself, his eyes behind his visor staring at your pussy and his neck muscles contracting as he swallowed thickly, strengthening his resolve and deciding to protect his own identity instead.

But tonight - finally - his tongue slides between your folds and you let out a low whine when the furnace-hot heat of his mouth besets itself over your clit.

Adrian groans when he tastes your arousal flooding his mouth. His hands cup under your ass as he pulls himself closer. You dare yourself to run your hand through his hair again, your fingernails lightly scratching his scalp. It still feels like it shouldn’t be allowed but he doesn’t seem to mind at all as his lips suck on your swollen clit.

“Fuck, Adrian…” His real name still sounds foreign on your lips, like you have to make a conscious effort to say it. 

Adrian looks up at you over his glasses, his pupils wide in the dim violet light of the lava-lamp-lit room. He takes in your glowing face and chest as you lie propped up on your elbows, enjoying the sight of him on the floor between your legs.

His fingers knead the soft, pillowy flesh of your ass like he doesn’t want to let you go anywhere ever again. And you don’t want to. Fuck the mission. Can’t you just stay here forever? In Adrian’s bedroom, panting while his tongue runs firm circles over your clit.

When you roll your hips in encouragement, he lets out a soft little moan sending vibrations over the bundle of nerves - it almost makes you dissolve right there and then. 

“I can’t believe I let you… fuck - let you get away with not doing this before,” you whimper. “So - s’fucking good, V.”

“Adrian,” he says and the tiniest absence of friction when his tongue leaves your clit makes your fingers tighten in his hair, urging him to return to your aching pussy.

“Adrianadrianadrian,” you babble, scared that his lips will leave you again. No more V. No more Vigilante. Just Adrian. Here. Eating your pussy like it’s you who’d been depriving him of this for months on end. Pleasure rises deep in your core like the tide getting ready to crash against the cliff face.

Your brain becomes fuzzy as increasingly desperate noises escape your throat - something strangled between a whine and his name. You squirm against his tongue as he relentlessly continues, determined to draw from you the orgasm that you’ve been desperate for since he kissed you in the car and you realised his mouth would feel like heaven.

The pressure of his tongue against your soaking wet pussy makes you writhe in exhilaration. You barely notice his fingers digging harder into your skin as you arch your spine and throw your head back.

Your thigh muscles tense and relax, trembling on either side of his face. “Adrian, I’m gonna - gonna cum…”

Instead of responding, he sinks two fingers deep inside your cunt, giving you something to squeeze around as every muscle in your pelvis tightens. He curls his fingers slightly and it’s just enough to push you over the fucking edge.

The purplish glow of the room turns blinding white as waves, hot and wet, break over you and your body floods with ecstasy. Your whole lower body stiffens as your walls clench around his fingers and you grind your pussy against his mouth.

Fuck, you’ve been missing out. You haven’t been with anyone else the entire time you’ve been apart and it’s like your body has been crying for exactly this moment without you realising how much you needed it. Needed his mouth on you.

The room comes into focus again gradually as Adrian gives you a last few slow, gentle kisses before sliding his fingers out of your still-twitching centre.

You breathe heavily and look at him kneeling on the floor.

He looks stupidly pleased with himself, the corner of his wet, glistening mouth upturned in a self-congratulatory smile at the way he’s taken you apart piece by piece. You can’t help but giggle from endorphins buzzing through your body. It makes your abdomen hurt from all the tensing you were doing. 

Adrian slaps the side of your ass and gets to his feet, undoing his belt buckle. “C’mon, bend over,” he grins.

You sit up, shake your head and smile. “Nuh-uh, I wanna see your pretty face when you cum.” He blinks a couple of times dazedly. “Did you forget about your mask for a second?”

Adrian clears his throat. “Uh...No?”

He so did.

“C’mere.” You hook your fingers through his belt loops and pull him closer. You kiss the light trail of hair covering his hard abdomen while your fingers work to undo his jeans and pull them down to release him from the confines of his boxers.

God, you missed it. He has a pretty face alright but his cock is fucking perfect.

Your cheeks grow hot feeling him so close. You grip his hard length and draw your tongue across the tip, tasting the salty bead of precum. 

“Take your top off,” you say, looking up at him before running your tongue along his shaft, keeping eye contact.

He grips the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it off over his head. Seeing him in the purple glow, every contour of his sculpted abdomen illuminated sends burning heat to your pelvis. You never thought you were into muscular guys, not until you saw Vigilante take his suit off for the first time. Now you’re not sure if you could go back to anything else. Anyone else. 

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock but he interrupts you.

“I need to fuck you. Please.”

At this point, you’re so turned on it’s an offer you can’t refuse. You release him and scoot back on the bed. He goes to crawl on top of you but flinches when his injured foot meets the mattress.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just need to - ah fuck.”

“It’s okay. Here, lie down. Let me go on top.”

He does so with relief and you swing your leg over his thighs.

“Better?” 

“Fuck yeah,” he says, looking at your naked figure sitting on top of him.

You reach into his bedside drawer where you know he keeps his condoms. Your fingers skirt over what you suspect are bags of candy until you find the corrugated square shape you’re looking for. You take it out and roll the condom on him.

“Okay, easy,” you say, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. He throbs under the grip of your hand in anticipation. “Don’t overexert yourself.”

“You were totally cool with me over-exerting myself on the floor a second ago.”

“I was talking to myself,” you smirk. “It’s been a while.”

You ease yourself down onto his cock, feeling the beautiful stretch as you adjust to his size. 

“Shit…” he breathes, clamping his hands down hard on your hips, forcing you to bottom out. His eyebrows knit together and he sighs through parted lips, feeling the way your walls stretch around him. He looks so beautiful - you can’t stop looking at his lips.

You lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his head so you can lean down and kiss him. The taste of your juices registers on your tongue as his enters your mouth. You deepen the kiss and Adrian responds by jerking his hips up needily, pressing into your g-spot.

You moan and suck on his bottom lip, gently rolling it between your teeth as he pushes into the most sensitive part of your centre. Searing heat burns low in your belly, spreading to your thighs. You push yourself back up to ride him and grab his wrists, dragging them from your waist to grope at your chest.

“Fuck, you look so hot riding my dick.”

“Yeah? Rose-tinted visor isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”

You’re teasing him but it seems to spur him on, as he squeezes your tits and jerks up into your bouncing hips. Every wet slap that meets your ears only increases your neediness for him. It burns brightly in your core, making you wetter and even more desperate for your next orgasm.

Every roll of your body sends his cock plunging into you, pushing against you at the perfect angle. God, he feels incredible. Your walls start to convulse around him, clamping down and gripping his cock as your second climax rears its head.

“Adrian, fuck, I’m close…” you plead, frantically chasing your high, wildly gyrating and bouncing in time with his thrusts.

“Say it again.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna-”

“No, say my name,” he says, through gritted teeth, his neck muscles tightening in the soft light. 

His neck.

“Fuck, Adrian.” You lunge forward and bite on his neck. He grabs handfuls of your ass, anchoring himself into you as he thrusts savagely upwards sending pleasure rocketing through you. Fuck he’s deep. So fucking deep.

His name leaves your lips over and over, broken and ragged as every jerk of his hip knocks the air out of your lungs. Bliss ignites and your cry of pleasure is muffled as you moan and run your tongue over his neck, smelling his aftershave mixed with his musky sweat. An explosion, more fierce than any grenade blast bursts through your centre as he pummels his cock with unparalleled force and precision, even as you squirm and shake, unable to keep moving your own hips in time with his.

With every ounce of strength you have you lean up on your arms to look at his face. His eyes are squeezed shut and his facial muscles contort as he sucks through his teeth.

“Cum for me, Adrian,” you murmur sweetly in his ear and he opens his eyes, giving you a terminally helpless look as he slams his hips into your hot, wet cunt and you squeeze around him as tight as you can. With a final thrust, you feel his thighs tighten and his cock pulsing inside you as he cums.

You flatten your body back on top of his - the warm, damp sweat between your chests feels strangely pleasant. His fingers trace circles up your spine, gently tickling your back. Adrian turns his head to kiss you and you both lie for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his lips on yours.

After what feels like a long time of lying in quiet elation, you make yourself climb carefully off of him and roll over, resting back on his pillows.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he says and you lie back watching him dispose of the condom, taking care not to put any pressure on his bandaged toe. He launches himself back on the bed with a thud making you bounce on the mattress. “Good, you’re still here,” he says, leaning on his elbow and looking down at you.

“Where else would I be?” you laugh.

“Well… you usually leave right after. Except that one time I accidentally bought peanut M&Ms.”

You look at him apologetically. In fairness, the mask was hardly an invitation to spend the night - what was he going to do? Sleep in it? “Do you have peanut M&Ms?”

He nods to his bedside drawer and you open it to see that it’s stuffed with the little yellow bags.

“You like peanut M&Ms now?”

He pulls a face. “No way dude, they’re so gross.”

“Then why…?”

“I guess I always hoped you might change your mind and come back. So I bought them whenever I thought about you.”

You look at the drawer - there’s practically enough that Adrian could have made a trail of peanut M&Ms from your apartment across town to his. “You would have made a really sweet boyfriend,” you sigh.

“Well, I mean… I still could,” he says in a would-be nonchalant type of way, pushing up his glasses with his finger and avoiding your gaze.

“Yeah?” You weren’t sure if he’d be open to picking up where you left off. But it feels right when it didn’t before. Now you know him. Really know him. 

He pulls his eyes up and meets your gaze with a smile. “If you want me to?”

“I’d like that. A lot.”

“Sweet,” he says with a wide smile, not bothering to hide how giddy he is.

You open the packet. “For the record, I’m not just staying because of the M&Ms this time.”

“I know.”

“And I’m glad you’re on the team.”

He nods happily, watching you pop a few into your mouth. “Hashtag me too.”

[llamagoddessofficial]

@mothiepixie's art has dragged me kicking & screaming back into my Death God Sans obsession

so here's a concept I've been rolling around in my head for an updated scaryboy...

---

He was cloaked, head to toe, in black. Sweeping robes, black as the night, that seemed to draw in any light around them. Though delicate chains of silver decorated his shoulders and waistline, he had nowhere near the degree of finery one would expect from such an ancient and powerful being.

... He looked over his shoulder at your approach. His face was veiled. The veil itself was beautiful, as black as his cloak, the edges embroidered with fine thread that caught the light like stars. No one had ever survived glimpsing beneath that veil. Legends told of curious Gods peering when they should not- being driven mad instantly upon seeing the face of Death.

Immortals simply were not made to comprehend their existence coming to an end.

“... what a pleasant surprise.” He mused. “hello, little goddess.”

“S-Sans.” You couldn’t look at him long. “I-I... want to talk...”

... A sigh escaped him. He turned to you, fully, a great figure of black ash and silence. When he spoke, he sounded... regretful.

“of course you do.”

“I-it’s... it’s my friend. A nymph. She’s...”

He spoke gently. “i know what you're going to ask, so please do not ask me. i don’t want to have to refuse you.”

You didn't know why Sans had a soft spot for you. Other Gods and Goddesses had attempted to befriend him, attempted to gain his favour. They were always rebuffed- sometimes aggressively. You were the only one whose friendliness he ever reciprocated.

“She’s going to die." You almost choked on your words. "There... there must be something you can do, I...”

“i can’t.” His words carried the finality of someone who had been asked this question more times than he could count. “if i make one exception, the world will know. and then i’ll have to make a hundred more.”

The hope was draining from you. This is what you had feared most. “I-I won’t tell anyone. I... Please.”

“there are rules i have never bent.” He said, softly. “i cannot start now.”

...

You looked away. Though you knew you had no right to, considering he was only doing what he'd been made to do, you still felt hurt. “... I suppose you’ve had this conversation many times.”

A pause.

“... yes.”

“After a while it must get amusing.”

The veil shifted, slightly.

“i know you did not mean that.”

... You immediately felt regret biting at the back of your tongue. Of course he wouldn't be amused, what a horrible thing for you to say. He didn't choose this existence- and he certainly didn't choose to have his heart hardened by centuries of desperate people clawing at the bottom of his robes.

“... I’m sorry." You said, small. "I shouldn’t have come.”

...

“wait.”

In an instant, Sans was far closer to you, close enough that you could reach out and trace your hands across his robes. Great black wings, each taller than you, circled you; the veil fluttered for a moment, you thought you saw something glint beneath them that definitely wasn’t the light glancing off the fine silver embroidery. 

“... there is a way.”

You stopped, heart jumping in a mixture of hope, and apprehension at his proximity. His aura was overpowering. “There is?”

“making exceptions for the way my soul turns would not be acceptable." His head tilted. "however... making exceptions for kin...”

You wished you could see his face. Anything to clue you as to you what was going on. “... Kin?”

“your friend would be my kin, if you were my wife.”

... 

Your jumping heart stopped in your chest.

“... Your... wife.”

“it would be in name only. i cannot give you children. and... i would understand if you sought intimacy elsewhere.”

You felt yourself tearing up. You didn’t understand. “But... what’s the point, then? Why would you want me as a wife, if you know I won’t give you affection or children?” 

“do we have a deal?”

...

What other choice did you have? He could probably see it written all over your face.

“close your eyes.” He said, softly.

... You did. 

You heard nothing. But you felt something draw close, you felt that overwhelming aura intensity, a power that drifted across your skin like spiderwebs... it smelled like obsidian, in your mind’s eye it was the deepest shade of midnight. 

A hand on the small of your back. 

“do not open them.” His voice was so near. So near you felt it in your chest and throat.

... So near, that when you heard the sound of thin fabric being lifted, you could almost count the threads.

Breath against your cheeks. Instinctively, your hands came up, catching in his silken robes. Your frozen heart started pounding all over again.

... Pressure, on your lips. Gentle, warm, much warmer than you expected. The barest, softest touch... but it lingered long enough for you to sense that it was the touch of someone who was restraining themselves.

You didn't expect the kiss of Death to feel so loving.

As fast he had come, the warmth retreated from your lips, the hand retreated from your back. His cloak slipped out of your grip.

...

You opened your eyes. Sans was a few feet away from you.

... You didn’t need to be able to see his face to know he was smiling.

[ken-dom]

Wake Up To Me Every Morning

Lars Lindstrom x afab!reader

2.5k words

Summary: Lars loves the comforting taste of your kisses. When he grows curious about the taste of other parts of you, he discovers that he has a favourite bedroom activity, and suddenly, he can’t get enough.

Author’s notes: thank you to my pals in the Goosecord for the encouragement (not that I ever need much when it comes to Lars), as well as to my husband and the wonderful @heresthestorymorningglory for beta reading and keeping my sleepiness in check! Title taken from Touch Tank by Quinnie.

Warnings/content: nsfw, oral sex (Lars giving), making out, cumming in pants, cumming untouched, fingering, consensual somnophilia, scent kink?, horny virgin Lars, a light sprinkling of delicious possessiveness

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

The first time, Lars was nervous. You’d expected as much; he’d only touched you over your clothes, desperately kissing while your hands were in his hair and his groped and rubbed at you through the fabric until you came undone. He was left breathless every time, even when he came in his underwear, rutting against you.

He was growing ever more comfortable with being close to you. Your lips on his didn’t burn at all for one thing, which had been a pleasant surprise. As such, he became enamoured with your kisses, falling asleep each night replaying the memories of them in his head before dreaming about them. Every day he’d seen you, his fingers would subconsciously move up to trace his lips while he worked at his desk, head filled with thoughts of the night before.

Lars also loved the taste of you as much as the sensation of your lips soft and wet and warm against his, and the way your tongues slid together in a slow but desperate dance, moans muffled and lips swollen.

Each time you moaned into his mouth, his impatience to touch you – really touch you – increased. He’d never felt that way before, actually needing to feel someone on his skin.

All these thoughts merged into the spark of an idea one day when Lars was drowning out Kurt’s nonsense at work, distracting himself with the thought of you again. The photo of you pinned to the board behind his computer screen had been drawing his eyes away from his work so regularly he simply gave up in the end, gazing into your eyes and daydreaming of your lips.

At that moment, while Kurt tried to get his attention with the latest porn related news, Lars very easily decided that he wanted to taste you tonight. Once he’d started kissing you, he couldn’t keep his hands — or lips — off you, yet he still craved more. And tonight, he wanted a different taste on his tongue.

After a quietly romantic dinner at his little two seater table, he cleared away your dishes and returned to take your hand in his, as usual, leading you to sit on his bed where, usually, you’d make out until way past your usual bedtime, and then he’d walk you to your car, longing to ask you to stay the night but not yet having plucked up the courage.

‘How did you enjoy dinner?’ Lars asked a little skittishly as he settled beside you on the edge of his mattress.

‘Delicious,’ you smiled, leaning in to press your lips briefly to his.

When you pulled back, Lars smiled so sweetly you couldn’t help but bite your lip. You always adored how flustered he became from such a simple little act, cheeks flushed and blinking his gaze away. It was such a delicious contrast to the almost possessive, needy way he gripped you when his tongue was down your throat and his thigh was pressed firmly between your legs.

‘I… I wondered if I could try something new tonight?’

You tilted your head. What was he up to?

‘Don’t worry! We can still kiss, I just wanted to do something else for you. I- I think you’ll like it. If I do it right.’

‘Oh?’ A thrill ran through your body and settled low in your gut. Surely he didn’t mean…?

‘Could you just,.. lay back for me? Spread your legs?’

Without hesitation, you did exactly what Lars had asked, eager to see what he had in mind, already shivering at the thought of where this was going.

Lars squeezed his eyes shut tight, taking a deep breath and collecting himself with a quick shake of his head before dropping down to his knees between your parted thighs.

Your core throbbed when he licked his lips and glanced up at you. He really had no idea how effortlessly sexy he could be, hair impeccably neat except for that one chunk that stuck out as though you’d already had your hands in it, a naughty sparkle in his eyes and his lip trembling with anticipation. 

‘Alright,’ he whispered softly when he was composed, gesturing to the fastening on your jeans, ‘could I…?’

You nodded eagerly, lifting your hips to help him shimmy them down and off your legs.

He let out another long breath, tilting his head into your palm when you stroked his hair to soothe him. Another physical affection he’d grown to love with you. 

‘Are you ready?’ he breathed shakily.

‘Whenever you are, Lars, sweetheart.’

He swallowed down a high pitched, ‘Ok!’ and leaned in, hesitating for a moment with his lips bit together. He dove forward, mouthing at your centre through the thin layer of underwear.

Your body jolted, hands flying down to tangle in his hair while his strong hands slid up your thighs and to your hips, holding you in place while his tongue lapped at your core, warm and hungry.

Lars felt too hot. He was already relishing in your reactions, cock straining in his trousers and twitching each time you let out a little gasp or a moan. It wasn’t enough. His cheeks were burning so hot against your inner thighs, he thought that if he didn’t do something about it soon he might burn up entirely.

‘Nmm-t-tss-tou-’ he mumbled against you, impatient strokes of his tongue unrelenting.

‘Wha- what was that?’ you panted, pushing through the haze of bliss and pulling at his hair to try and prize his mouth off your folds long enough to understand him.

‘Need to taste you,’ he slurred, fingers moving from where they held your hips still to fumble at the elastic of your underwear instead.

You whipped them off, giggling quietly at how desperate you both felt, and Lars’s fingers seared into your hips again the second they’d dropped to the floor, but he was otherwise frozen to the spot before you, eyes fixed on your core.

‘Y-you’re so… wet,’ he choked out, eyes sparkling, ‘for- for me?’

‘Of course,’ you heaved, feeling yourself throb with need.

He reached out and dared to touch your folds with a gentle fingertip, watching carefully as you writhed, and memorising the way you moaned as he caressed your clit with a slick-coated finger.

‘It-it’s like silk,’ he muttered, mostly to himself, exploring so carefully, so tenderly, you could come undone just watching him.

‘May I taste you properly now?’

‘Yes, please.’

His hands slipped down to grip your thighs, pushing your legs a little further apart and holding them firmly in position. He licked a long stripe, painfully slowly, through your folds, tongue circling your clit with such precision you wondered how it was possible he’d never done this before.

With his hands on your thighs you were able to roll your hips a little, rocking against his tongue while one of his fingers stroked at your entrance, teasing its way inside.

And what followed was the start of Lars discovering that he had a favourite activity in the bedroom.

When you came undone on his fingers and tongue, his name tearing from your throat, Lars moaned against you in such a way that you knew he was spilling into his underwear untouched, and when he caught his breath, he came up to kiss you just as he’d promised he would.

His chin was shiny, and his neatly trimmed mustache was soaked. He licked his lips and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand looking so satisfied your core clenched at the sight.

‘Did that feel good?’ he whispered against your lips before pressing his own against them.

You nodded, deepening the kiss, tasting yourself and throwing your arms around his shoulders.

The next night, Lars didn’t wait until you’d finished dinner. 

He dropped to his knees under the table, removing your trousers hurriedly and spreading your legs in one easy motion, not even bothering to remove your underwear this time. He simply slipped it to one side and began to lap at your folds like a starved man, his dinner left to go cold above him while your fists slammed on the table.

The night after that, you’d planned to watch a movie together. Settling on his bed with a bowl of snacks, you leaned your head against his shoulder and pulled the thick blanket over your legs. You’d done this plenty of times in the past, usually made out a little toward the end of the film, and then finished up the snacks together before heading home.

Tonight, you were barely ten minutes in before his fingers were toying with the button of your jeans under the blanket, fingers sliding through your slick, teasing you. He pulled his hand out of your underwear to suck his fingers clean, glancing at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes that nobody else would ever believe he was capable of. 

And then he was under the blanket, instructing you to try and keep track of the film while he focussed all his attention on your throbbing clit, fingers pumping just right until your thighs clenched around his head.

It was the next night that he finally asked you to stay. He’d made you cum twice already, once on his fingers ‘just to warm you up,’ and then again on his tongue, moaning into you as though he’d craved the taste for weeks, not hours.

‘Stay with me tonight?’ he breathed when he came up to kiss you as usual, and your hand had slipped down to rub him through his trousers. He was already so close.

‘Yes,’ you agreed simply, and he came hard with a choked out sob, fingers bruising into your wrist and head burying in the crook of your neck.

When he’d composed himself, he pulled back to smile at you, all dazed and sated, and endearingly sleepy.

‘Would you like a wake up call?’ he uttered under his breath with a cheeky smirk.

‘Every morning. Forever,’ you grinned. ‘Could I book that in right now?’

Lars’s heart skipped a beat, and he nodded, blinking his gaze away. He felt so naughty. So filthy. And yet, it was the most alive he’d ever felt. The most excited. How could that be wrong?

You pushed him back onto the pillows and laid against his chest to begin a slow, languid goodnight kiss, but Lars froze beneath you.

‘What is it, sweetheart?’

He bit his lips together, looking up at you through big, concerned eyes, fingers coming up to rub thoughtfully at his mustache. 

‘It’s just, uhm…’ he struggled, breathing becoming quickly uneven as his mind raced.

‘Take your time,’ you soothed, your hand covering his.

‘I’m not making you… sore, am I? You know… down there? My mustache-’

Softly, you curled your fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand away from his face. ‘Not at all. You don’t realise just how good it all feels for me, do you?’

Lars shook his head and you stopped him, stroking at his mustache with tender fingertips. He gasped.

‘Well, you haven’t given me carpet burn yet if that’s what you’re worried about, but you have given me more orgasms than I can count so… please don’t change anything, will you?’

Lars squeezed his eyes closed and he sucked in a sequence of rapid, sharp breaths. He might be eagerly providing them at every opportunity, but actually hearing you say the word orgasm so openly made him feel suddenly lightheaded.

‘Besides, you’re so handsome with that mustache. And I like the way it feels.’

Lars was just about ready to pass out, but your kiss brought him back down, warm and soothing.

After cleaning up and changing into his pyjamas (and lending a spare set to you), he fell into a restful sleep with your head against his chest, despite his mind buzzing with the thrill of what he had planned for the morning and the warm feeling that spread through his gut when he thought about you wearing his clothes.

Lars woke before you as he’d hoped, the sunlight spilling in through his little window, warm against his face. You’d remained on his chest all night, still in a deep, comfortable sleep.

Lars whispered a loving, ‘Good morning,’ to you and ever so gently slid you onto the pillows, burrowing beneath the duvet excitedly, his heart slamming against his ribcage.

He gently pushed your legs apart, holding his breath, trying so hard not to wake you. Not yet. He wanted you to wake already wracked with pleasure.

Your legs complied, and Lars heard a quiet snore from above the duvet. He unfastened the pyjamas he’d given you last night, revealing your core and he paused to steady himself at the sight of your folds, glistening already. Perhaps you’d dreamed about him, too. His mouth began to water.

A familiar warm, wet, feeling surged through your unconscious state, gradually bringing you to consciousness. As your eyes blinked open and your brain tried to play catch up, a million thoughts a minute rushed through your mind. Legs trembling. Heart racing. Fingers digging into the mattress beneath you. You were in Lars’s bed. Sunlight. It was morning. You were wearing Lars’s pyjamas. It was Friday. What time is it? Core throbbing. Thighs wet. Lars was not beside you.

Moments later, bringing all the thoughts to one crashing realisation that this was the wake up call he’d promised, your upper body lifted from the bed, a strangled cry tearing from your throat as Lars’s tongue flicked expertly over your sensitive nub and his fingers curled against your g spot.

Chuckling and feeling brave, he snuggled into your side as you caught your breath. ‘Waking up to an orgasm, isn’t that neat?’

Lars was grinning and humming to himself the whole time he spent getting dressed and ready for work. He brushed his teeth as normal, but you noticed he didn’t bother cleaning his mustache the way he had last night, even though it had been soaked again when he kissed you and mumbled a husky, ‘Good morning,’ while you tried to catch your breath.

With an excuse that you’d stopped by this morning to return one of Lars’s sweaters before work, he took you for breakfast with Gus and Karin at the house. He was eager for them to properly meet you, and what better time would there be than this, right before he had to depart for work, when they wouldn’t keep you both for so long that he’d miss out on ending an evening the way he’d become so accustomed to?

They didn’t really buy it, of course. They’d seen your car there last night and it hadn’t moved an inch. But Lars ploughed on with talking their ears off about how fantastic you were for the full half hour, and left for work just on time.

But not without leaning back over your shoulder first to whisper, ‘I just wanted to tell you that you tasted incredible this morning,’ into your ear. You knew Gus and Karin probably heard, and your cheeks felt hot, but really, you didn’t care at all.

[pixelatedraindrops]

Happy 1st Anniversary RainCode!

☔️6🔎30👻

Thank you for bringing me so much joy 💜💕

(and thank you for giving me the gift that is yuma kokohead)

I didn’t think I’d make art for it at first, but I figured this game has done so much for me, so I’ll give back by drawing the duo that started it all 💜🩷 These two are such an iconic pair and I will draw them together as much as possible c: (tho Shinigami will be mostly in her ghost form if I do)

First time drawing human form Shinigami non-chibi, and I admit she was a little tricky with that outfit. But I think I did it decently enough… xD

little bonus for the kokogami enjoyers 💕

miss death god is too much woman for this little boy to handle~ 🤭

i know he's an adult but can you honestly look at him without context and say this is a man??? he's just an eemey meemey little guy.

Personal Rambling below (because I love this game so much)

WARNING MINI ESSAY INCOMING (lmao)

Oh RainCode... Where do I even begin...

RainCode is a game that has changed my life along with likely many other people’s lives. Although the premise of it is fairly straightforward, the characters and atmosphere make this game so much more. The successor to Danganropa is honestly its own unique story and structure, and tbh I think I love and enjoy it far more than Danganronpa. But this game…is just so much more for me.

I truly never expected this game to be such an impact on my life, let alone become my next fixation.

So, for history, I was honestly in no real hurry to get the game on its release date last year, so I got it a day later. On July 1st, I played the game for the first time. And I didn’t think much of it at first. The only thing that was on my mind when I started this game, was that I was positive I was going to be treating the protagonist like Makoto Naegi and Kyoko Kirigiri’s son the whole time.

This was the first post I made about RainCode back on twitter in 2023.

Yeah... Kinda silly when I look at it now... XD But I do still beleive this headcanon.

When I started the game my 2016 fixation of Danganronpa came back a bit. As a previous DR lover, I did make comparisons here and there to all of the characters. Yuma was very much like Naegi with his shy and timid demeanor at first due to having amnesia, and it felt like déjà vu when playing through the start of the game. But then it happened. The moment that solidified Yuma as my next and now permanent target. When he got sick/dizzy on the train... God that moment still lives rent free in my head. (I know the cause of it was different/related to the first mystery/case, but as someone who enjoys any sort of sick whump moment, regardless of if its little crumbs or a whole-ass meal it still counted for me) I was still shy and hid in the shadows with my silly little niche back then, but I told myself. Yep, once I finish this game, I’m writing a sickfic for this game and he’s the victim. (though what surprised me was that I wasn’t alone on that, 3 other people made sickfics with yuma before I did so that was a pleasant surprise xD)

As the game went on it shocked and impressed me in many different forms. I realized that this game isn’t the Danganronpa clone I thought it would be. Sure, it had a lot of similar elements and mirrored mini games like Hangman’s Gambit, Spot Selection, and of course the Conclusion Comic of the whole case, but the story the world and the mysteries were honestly different from the way DR structured them. And it pleased me when not many people from the main team had died. Most of the deaths were of side characters that had appeared in their respective chapters. Which honestly was a breath of fresh air for me, and I think that’s the real reason it’s separate from DR. It’s not as cruel and not as stressful. It’s a lot more chill, but the mysteries were still enough to get me excited and look forward to the next maze I would enter. The mystery labyrinths were probably my favorites elements of the game. They were just so much fun. And every single character was so likeable, (yes even some of the peacekeepers were fun aside of one or two that I absolutely despise. mostly yomi and guillame lol but I guess I kinda like yomi a bit more bc of the fandom)

And I grew to love Yuma EVEN more. He is honestly one of the best written protagonists I’ve seen in a long time. It’s hard to do timid protagonists right, but RainCode definitely nailed it with Yuma. He had his moments, but it wasn’t enough to be obnoxious. He also shined in more ways than one. And my god, so many relatable moments… (I have anxiety too xD) He was so charming and cute the whole time and even had his badass moments. This little guy is the whole package and I LOVE him for that. Truly a unique and fun main character that blows every DR protagonist out of the water.

(Yes, I said what I said.)

And the ending, GOOD LORD THE ENDING?? It was so well executed, and the ending twist villain was immediately my second favorite character after the protagonist. I could go on about how much I loved the ending but if I did, we’d be here all day and I don’t want to spoil the entire game…so… I’ll leave it at that.

When I finished the game, I was so satisfied. (Yes I love it more than DR, what are you gonna do about it?) It left me super happy and made me want to make some fan content for it. Though I was still very quiet on twitter and had a feeling since twitter is a more complicated platform, I couldn’t gush about the game too much due to fear of spoiling other people…and when one of your favorite characters is just the whole secret of the game’s core mystery, I couldn’t talk about it too much… >.>

So, then I did the unthinkable. I went back to tumblr… It’s a little embarrassing but this account is actually my old one I had from years ago. I was on tumblr more 2013 to 2017 before I abandoned the site when it no longer seemed fun and there were times that I’d rather forget... (let’s just say that I used to RP with my OCs and…one of my RP ex friends catfished me and it made me feel VERY uncomfortable. I wanted to forget it, so I ran away and never returned.) I was super nervous to come back and try to post again, so my first RC related post was about him being a naegiri child.

After that I began making more edits once I gained access to the sprites and full body arts. I made some Pokémon AU edits because those were always fun, and then I started making feverish edits of Yuma’s sprites. My first post ended up becoming a hit and I caught the attention of some people. They liked what I was doing so it gave me a bit of confidence to continue. I got even more attention, and it made my confidence go up even more.

And then I started trying to draw art again, something I gave up long ago. My first few arts were a little rocky at best, but so many people enjoyed it! One of my older arts ended up becoming pretty popular. Through this my few pieces of art, my many sprite edits, and my first fan fiction (Home Is Where The Heart Is) got me pretty well recognized in the Rain code community on here. So much so that I felt confident enough to give myself a title. The CEO of RainCode Whump or “Whumpcode” and all of this confidence made me decide to turn my blog into a fandom and sick whump blog. It became a full blown obsession that possessed my mind that I've become TOO passionate about. Never thought making these little guys suffer would bring me this much joy... XD

Over time, I’ve drawn more art and written more fics than I ever had for a fandom. Before I never ever made fandom art, and I would usually only write one sickfic per fixation. (my last ones being demon slayer and spy x family) But here I am, making more art pieces than I ever have before (hell even doing a MONTH ART CHALLENGE) and improving even! And having 7 fanfictions of RainCode, 6 with Yuma and one with Makoto. And those two became my prime targets and muses for my art. Drawing them is easier for me and they’re my favorites so it brings me such joy to draw them. I love MakoYuma so much. Maybe not so much romantically, but friendship and familial. They have such potential to be so much, and I adore them. Plus putting them in sicknarios and situations is fun (I think we can all agree on that haha)

I think I’m talking too much, so I will say one more thing. I never thought my fixation on this game would last this long. I was positive it would go away after just a few months at best. The game is great but nothing amazing to keep thinking about for too long for me. But I think the main reason I was able to keep my fixation on this game for almost a year (and ongoing) is because of the fandom. (specifically, the Tumblr fandom, but some people on twitter are cool too) I’m honestly so happy I returned to tumblr and was able to make a name for myself in this community. I have met so many talented artists and creators and even made some new friends (and even got a few apprentices to take under my wing) If it weren’t for everyone’s support, I don’t think I would have ever done this much and made it this far.

I’ve essentially made a platform for myself, and I didn’t think tumblr would be a place I’d check daily ever again. To think this silly little game…would change my life so much and make me happier than I’ve ever been in such a long time. I feel recognized and like I belong, I’m finally able to be loud and proud about my passions for sick whump and not worry too much about it, I’ve finally found my prime target and I have fun with him every time, I’ve gotten back into the arts of drawing and writing again and I think I’ve made some of my best work yet, and I’ve met so many wonderful people and even collaborated with them on some fun projects too! (Here's the most popular one and also the first one I did!)  It’s just been…so wonderful… I am so happy to be part of such a chill talented and fantastic community TwT So thank you everyone… this is all thanks to your support… <3

Sorry I’m getting a little mushy here aren’t I… x’D I just couldn’t be more grateful for this game if I tried… So, thank you so much Rain Code, for existing and doing so much for me and making me so happy… I have never had this much fun in a fixation before, and I never felt like I was ever truly part of any fandom and was always just a lurker. It feels so good to finally feel like part of a fandom you love, and also be well liked, admired and accepted by others despite your niche being a little on the odd side… XD

I really hope there will be a sequel for this game, and we’ll see all these wonderful characters again. After all I’ve been through with this title and how much joy and purpose it brought me, consider me a fan for life. I will be dedicated to every future title in this series and play the hell out of it. And I hope it gains a wider audience come October when it is released for more consoles. (Just hoping no weirdos take over and ruin it with stupid drama and horrible things like the DR fandom…)

Though once new fans come in and are also tumblr users…I wonder what they’d even think of me and my place and takes when it comes to this series… XD (hopefully they’ll be nice to me… XD)

Anyway, I’ve said enough.

Happy Anniversary RainCode!!

☔💜👻🔍

[zoeykallus]

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Part 4/7 - Echo

Warnings: Hurt/Angst/Comfort/Fluff/Love Confessions

Masterlist

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

This is a continuation of this request :

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Echo

You are alone with Echo. It's a beautiful day, the sun is shining, but it's not too warm. Pleasant conditions for working on the outer hull of the Marauder. It's nice to be alone with Echo, you can talk to him, his attention is only on you and the work you're doing together. It's not often that you're alone together, and every time you do, you promise yourself to talk to him about how you feel about him. But every time you back out and don't tell him. He is always attentive to you, polite, a gentleman, he is anything but dismissive, and yet you are very nervous every time. Today, however, you are determined to confess your feelings to Echo, you just don't really know how. You decide to try dipping your toes in the water first. It seems like a good idea to test what he thinks. A tentative, “Hey Echo,” escapes your lips. He smiles.

“Yeah?” You think for a moment about how you should phrase the sentence before you speak. You want to say the right thing and get an answer from him that you can do something with. “Have you ever thought about looking for a partner? You know, now that we live on Pabuu and all.” Echo raises his eyebrows in surprise and pauses in his work. His eyes wander back and forth thoughtfully for a moment, then his brows draw together critically, and you watch him carefully, feeling the nervousness creeping up inside you again. “No, I haven't really thought about it, not seriously anyway. I spend most of my time working with Rex, with the rebellion. I haven't really retired like the rest of the squad. There's still far too much to do out there.” A quiet, thoughtful, “Hmm,” comes over your lips. That's not exactly what you wanted to hear. Suddenly he adds, “Apart from that, I'm not exactly a great catch, finding a partner might be difficult”

To emphasize his words, he taps his scomp-link arm against one of his artificial legs. You really didn't expect that, and you didn't want to hear it from him. You actually want to talk back and tell him how adorable he is and that anyone would be lucky to have him by their side, but you don't really dare, not yet. You blink, a little nervously. The feeling of heaviness settles in the pit of your stomach. Somehow you had imagined the course of this conversation to be different and, slowly but surely, your courage is failing you. But you don't want to give up just yet. “You've really never thought about it? There is no one who could have awakened this thought in you in any way? Someone who could arouse your interest?” You see his jaw muscles flex, he grinds his teeth, seeming to weigh the words he wants to say. Echo sighs softly and finally says, “No, not really” Your heart sinks for a moment, but then something unexpected happens. Crosshair, who is walking by in the background, grumbles softly, “Liar”

Echo turns around, startled. Irritated, he grumbles, “Where did you come from?” Crosshair continues walking, without turning around he shrugs his shoulders and says dryly, “From the depths of space” You both watch as Crosshair disappears around a corner of a house, then your eyes meet. A nervous smile twitches at the corners of your mouth, while Echo suddenly seems to have a little more color in his face. You ask, curious as well as nervous, “Does Crosshair know something I don't?” The thought that Echo might already have a secret love affair comes to you, and the heaviness in your stomach turns into a full-blown mountain. But of course you don't want to let it show, but you still want certainty. Echo scratches the back of his neck nervously with the scomp link. “Why are you so interested in this?” he asks back, "Any particular reason?"

You shrug your shoulders uncertainly, avoid his gaze and say quietly, almost in a whisper, “Maybe I was hoping you liked me as much as I like you” You hear his footsteps coming closer and finally look at him again. “That's why you asked? Because you like me, um, romantically?” You say meekly, “Maybe” Echo smirks. “ Won't you just admit it?” You bite your lower lip as you feel the smirk infect you. You ask bolder than you feel, “What do I get in return?” Echo looks at you mischievously and takes one of your hands in his. “How about the first of many kisses?”

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

@clonelovr

@ivyyyyy

[besaya-glantaya]

Thoughts on Alex being wrong and loving it

Red White and Royal Blue (2023 movie)

Remember the little quip Henry makes about admiring Alex's willingness to admit when he's wrong? It's such a great moment of foreshadowing, especially since Henry has no idea just how right he is.

Alex prizes himself on being someone who is skilled at reading people, at seeing the person beneath the surface, but he's never come across anyone quite like Henry before.

Alex must be used to people hiding who they truly are - he's been steeped in American politics for years - but he probably isn't expecting anyone from such a legacy of historic power and entitlement to be, at their core, an actual cinnamon roll.

Their initial meeting also comes at a time in Henry's life when any chink in his armour reveals only pain and anger, leading Alex to assume that what lies behind the carefully controlled façade isn't pleasant.

This assumption is only reinforced by further antagonistic interactions, fuelled by Henry's attempts to balance civility while protecting his heart as Alex consistently pulls Henry's metaphorical pigtails.

The fallout from cakegate forces them into extended periods of proximity and we see Alex start to glimpse pieces of the real Henry beneath his bland public persona. Each further piece that's revealed surprises and delights Alex and it's a joy to watch Taylor Zakhar Perez bring those moments to life.

Allow me to ramble about some of these:

1. Alex's pause of panic followed by surprised relief as Henry suavely responds to the interview question, "How did you end up on the floor of Buckingham Palace, covered in cake?" Alex's relief is two fold: he was floundering with no idea what to say (shouldn't have rebuffed Henry's request to prepare for this interview, Alex...) and Henry's answer is not at all what Alex was expecting. Henry could easily have attributed the event to clumsiness or tomfoolery on Alex's part - even just by subtle implication. That wouldn't have been out of line with some of Alex's answers (e.g., "Three words to describe Henry? Um... White, blond and British.") but Henry chooses a more protective route, deflecting attention from Alex, which comes as a pleasant surprise. [Of course he can't show this, so instead retaliates with something as annoying as possible. Cue side eye from Henry.]

2. Alex's big-eyed expression of sympathy as Henry tells him the Palace insisted on parading him around while he was grieving for his father. It's the key moment Alex realises he's built a lot of assumptions on a misunderstanding and has probably treated Henry rather unfairly.

3. Alex frowning at Henry talking and laughing with the little girl in the hospital bed. He's seeing Henry through a new lens and realises this picture doesn’t fit with a lot of his previous assumptions.

4. Alex shaking his head at Henry's joking attempt to decline an invite to his NYE party that most people would kill to get. "That's perfect, you kill me and then I won't have to go." It's the first time Henry uses his sharp wit to share a joke with Alex, rather than directing it at him in a fit of pique. It's an olive branch and I don't think Alex was expecting such easy forgiveness.

5. The sublime series of text based interactions where Alex is surprised and charmed by Henry flirting (under the guise of gentle ridicule).

6. The iconic "I can't believe how wrong I was about you," while he and Henry are as close as two people can get.

7. My all time favourite: Alex's reaction to Henry pointing out the yellow roses on his tie. Henry employs this in a sweet distraction during a moment of all encompassing anxiety for Alex. It's enough to bring Alex out of his fog, to realise how much strength he draws just from Henry being there to support him. The way Taylor says "Oh my god. I'm so grateful you are here," is perfection.

I'm a gooey mess thinking about all the future moments where Alex is surprised and overwhelmed by Henry's kindess.

[Sobs]

On a related note @mulderscully has a great post titled: Alex's headshake of Love™, which captures several of these moments, and more, in perfect gif form.

[annoyinglandmagazine]

I have a very specific take on the first meetings of Elrond and Celebrian that I am very obsessed with. So picture this. Celebrian during the Last Alliance is a pretty senior commanding officer within some of her parents forces and when she accompanies her mother to Imladris for the White Council she’s still largely fulfilling some of those duties for most of her stay, she’s out for a lot of the official events on patrols and such. She also spends most of the time around Imladris in her uniform, she has status of her own thank you very much she doesn’t need to introduce herself as Galadriel’s daughter to garner respect (Galadriel herself of course approves of this very wholeheartedly).

So in general she’d appear fairly masculine ( this was definitely not deliberate butch presentation to signal to queer elleths what are you talking about?), it’s mainly ambiguous on her part but she got her mother’s tall genes and built up a decent bit of lean muscle so people will draw their own conclusions. And while she’s in the training yard she hears someone humming what sounds like a Song of Power to enhance the stock of healing herbs kept nearby. She spots a stunning raven elleth in the corner that she was relatively certain she would be able to lift off her feet with shocking ease by the size of her.

Her conclusions were correct, the elf maid had a healer’s apron fastened over her dress and was most likely come from the Healing Halls, she was surprised she hadn’t seen her before though she hadn’t now until she’d started singing so maybe she was just good at blending it the background. She most certainly did not flex her sweat soaked muscles a little more than necessary with the next thrust, though the elleth most certainly seemed to think she had because she snorted to herself. Celebrian threw her a wink as she strode over to lean against a pillar.

She gets the name of Elwen, though she does not give one herself to the other’s great amusement. They flirt rather outrageously over the following weeks when they run into each other, sparring on occasion (and for such a tiny thing, by the Valar that Elwen was vicious. She was only two victories off drawing even with her, not that she was keeping track). Elrond was always fond of the anonymity offered by indulging his femininity, it was frankly shocking how few people recognised him when he did so, it was a pleasant way to both fulfil the need for a change that could not be ignored for long stretches of time and to experience things (and people) without the constant expectations to be a thousand different things at once. The opportunity for affairs of every nature without sullying the propriety of his reputation too thoroughly was another advantage.

So this all culminates in the first proper banquet Celebrian attends. ‘Lord Elrond, oh there you are, I was wondering if you’ve met my daughter Celebrian?’

Queue Celebrian going ‘oh shit, oh shit, I’ve been absolutely scandalous to one of my mother’s friends, oh Valar she’s going to kill me.’

And Elrond going ‘fuck, of all people you had to pick Galadriel’s daughter? Galadriel’s going to kill me, they will never find the body. Was that indecent corset really necessary?’

Galadriel finds this whole story hilarious when they tell her several centuries later (she knew the whole time and was just stirring shit up). Elrond and Celebrian are both bi so it works out anyways once they figure out exactly what happened.

[snowfolly]

So I got to the Daylight Inn in BG3 today and I had Astarion in my squad, and as we were hanging out and chatting up Isobel after rescuing her from Marcus, I started hearing a male character singing really softly. I switch characters around to see if I can find them and BOOM I find out ot's Astarion singing softly to himself while idle. I couldn't quite make the lyrics out but he sounded a bit distant and sad...made me want to hug him again.

OH NO… little guy, that’s so cute ;A; I absolutely love this and really, really hope this triggers for me in (one of) my current pts!

I have heard audio of him humming before (and it was so flat- which is super endearing to me lol), BUT this ask made me have some big hcs and I had to write and draw some boys about it lol

-

I imagine that Astarion really, truly loves to sing, that he gets catchy tavern songs stuck in his head for days and goes about his business singing to himself. However, the other spawn would continuously tell him to never to do so in their presence because he can't hold a tune, what kind of elf can’t sing? And what in the names of all the gods did he have to sing about anyway? Besides the song of agony that Cazador made him sing…

By the time he ends up a tadfool in our favorite merry band of misfits he’s learned well not to dare let his discordant voice slip in front of other people. He has to be charming, he has to be pleasant so that they keep him around. And his song is not a pleasant one.

He can’t help himself though, he still hums and sings quietly as he strolls through the woods, when he’s reading or sewing, in times when he thinks he’s entirely by himself. But Tav, godsdamnit, Tav takes notice. 

Tav startles him one night, telling him that they recognize the tune that he’s humming and that it’s one of their favorites. Astarion’s pissed that they were listening in on him, but he’s more surprised that he isn’t shot down immediately, that he’s not met with expected snark for not being able to carry a tune in a bucket, but Tav doesn’t belittle him… which is odd.

In time Astarion still keeps his songs to himself around the rest of the party, but as he begins to trust Tav he finds himself becoming more and more relaxed with them. He realizes that he can be himself around them, well, whatever parts of himself still left to him at this point anyway.

But it was a novel concept, this acceptance, a concept he learned to greatly appreciate. And Tav seems pleased to see (and hear) him being comfortable with them, being happy. Tav cares for him.

Tav cares for him after no one had given a rats ass about him for two centuries. What a concept indeed.

So Astarion continues humming flatly and singing badly,  Tav joins him often and they belt out old folk songs or bawdy tavern numbers together on their long journey, making up colorful (and hilariously crass) new verses as they go. 

And he comes to realize that this, this time with Tav is what being close to a person is supposed to feel like.

That being put down and belittled for something that a person enjoys is not universal. 

That constantly being on guard is not normal.

That another person can actually bring him joy, and that caring for someone is... possible.

Tav says that they enjoy singing with him, that they could go on singing with him forever, that they love his song.

And would it be so bad to sing of love instead of sorrow? Would it be so bad to share his song with them for as long as time would allow? He wasn’t quite sure yet, it was all so new.

But as he walks with Tav, arm in arm, belting out a bawdy old ballad to the heavens and all unfortunate ears within a mile, he had to admit that the thought of forever was enticing.

-

Thank you so much for the ask! And sorry it took 5ever bc it inspired me to make a little Drabble and doodle :>

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

I wanted to know the reaction of singles receiving a drawing of them from the farmer

Honestly I thought the idea was cute

Not sure if this headcanon can be considered part of this headcanon, because when I read ask, I had an idea: what if singles get a drawing from the Farmer, but they don't draw very well (just like me in life 🥲). But I thought that the question was addressed as if the Farmer paint well and give portraits to bachelors. I hope I didn't make a mistake.

Anyway, thanks for your ask, anon! Enjoy!

SDV bachelorettes:

Abigail:

Wow, she looks badass! Abby remembers showing the Farmer her orc drawings the other day, but she had no idea that the Farmer could draw too! She received drawing of her, where she is holding a sword in a fighting pose... So cool! Hey, if they want, then Abigail doesn't mind posing for them with a sword so they can draw her better...💜

Haley:

Haley, due to her popularity, was used to receiving gifts from her many friends and admirers back in school, so she was not at first surprised when the Farmer decided to give her something too, even if just as a friend. But what Haley really did not expect was that the gift would be her portrait, painted in gouache, where she, with her sunny smile, would hold a bouquet of sunflowers. And the fact that the Farmer drew it themselves, and so beautifully... It's pretty rare for people to find Haley blushing, but it looks like the Farmer somehow managed to do it. She will buy an expensive and beautiful frame for this drawing, and put in her room. This gift is really special for her.

Penny:

Is this... Is this for her? Th-thank you! Penny is shy, but gratefully accepted Farmer's drawing. She saw herself in the drawing, sitting under a tree and reading a book peacefully. Such pleasant colors and shadows are chosen for the drawing, and all this is watercolor... How beautiful... God, Penny blushed so much that she hid her face in the book she was holding! Thank you very much Farmer. She will keep this gift as a treasure.

Leah:

They can draw too? Can Leah take a look? Oh, this drawing is for her? Thank you! Wow, excellent technique! Perfect outline, soft colors, beautiful background... Leah is proud of them and will say that they clearly have artistic talent. Then she will ask the Farmer if they learned to draw somewhere and offer to go to the forest together somehow. Near the lake there is a picturesque and quiet place where they could draw a beautiful forest landscape. They can take some food and even have a little picnic...

Maru:

Maru is a little surprised that the Farmer decided to give her a portrait, but she gratefully accepts the gift. She had no idea that the Farmer is such a creative person. Maru noticed how carefully and accurately the Farmer portrayed her, and she also had no idea that she looked so...beautiful? Well, Maru knew that in reality she was quite good looking, but she was drawn so beautifully... Oh my, it seems to be getting hot in the room. Probably the heat is coming from her new invention, yeah. Better to go outside, to fresh air, especially since there she can better see the picture. Maru will keep it in a secluded place, so as not to accidentally spill chemicals or burn it during her next experiment.

Emily:

Wow, is this a gift, for her? Thanks a lot Farmer! Oh, it's her portrait! The painting depicts Emily surrounded by exotic flowers, so beautiful! A kind aura emanates from this gift, and she can feel how much work and attention each stroke of paint has put into it. Ah, what a beautiful background, the same color as in her recent dream, where she dreamed about the Far- oh, no no, nothing. In general, Emily is very grateful for such a beautiful gift.

SDV bachelors:

Shane:

As usual, Shane was returning from work until he heard someone call him. Hmm? Oh, it's the Farmer. What do they want from Shane? What, a gift? What is this piece of paper? Wait, this is portrait of him. And actually... not bad portrait. Shane sincerely thinks that he is much better drawn than in reality. Uh, do they want something in return? No? They just give him a drawing? Heh, thanks. Shane doesn't know how to react to this. But he will keep the drawing, and away from the eyes of his aunt and goddaughter, otherwise they will start asking unnecessary questions.

Alex:

Oh, would you look at this. Alex is depicted here in the same way as in life: inflated, toned, with a beautiful hair styled. The Farmer portrayed Alex in all his glory almost perfectly. Well, almost, because he is so perfect that not a single canvas will portray the future athlete as well as he is in real life!... In fact, despite his pride, Alex is very flattered by such a nice gift from them. He'll make sure to make room among his box of trading cards and autographs from athletes to put Farmer's drawing in. This kind of work shouldn't go to waste.

Sam:

Wow, Sam looks like a real rock star in this picture! The Farmer drew him playing the guitar and standing on a stage very similar to the one where he and his band first performed in front of the public, such was an exciting moment for the young musician. Wait, they're giving him this drawing? Sam is beaming with happiness. He will definitely show Sebastian and Abigail later, and will praise the talented Farmer for such a gift for a long time.

Harvey:

Harvey is a bit confused when the Farmer hands him a portrait of Harvey himself. I mean, thanks Farmer for the drawing, but it's just... No one has given gifts like this, like... Harvey can't remember if there was even one case. The Farmer handed him the drawing and quickly ran off on their own business, leaving Harvey alone in his clinic. He did not think that the Farmer could draw so beautifully. The doctor looked at his portrait for a long time, until a visitor opened the door to the clinic. He quickly hid the portrait in a book, ignoring the visitor's question about why Harvey's cheeks are so pink.

Sebastian:

Sebastian sat in his room with the Farmer as they showed him their drawings. The Farmer recently told Sebby that they can draw, and he wanted to see, with permission, the sketches. This went on for about 10 minutes, until Sebastian stopped at a drawing with his image, and Farmer wanted to pull out this drawing from the entire list to give Sebastian as a gift. To say that Sebastian was surprised is an understatement. It was not the first time he was given drawings and art, the same Abby and Sam often handed fanarts of their favorite characters from video games and films to their emo friend. But his own portrait, and even so well drawn... Sebastian briefly thanked Farmer for the drawing. Maybe outwardly he does not express much emotions, but inside he is simply not himself with delight, because it's so cool.

Elliott:

Incredible! Elliott is surrounded by talented friends! Just yesterday, Leah showed him her new mahogany sculptures, and today he receives a beautiful oil painting as a gift from the Farmer. And this is his portrait, marvelous! Oh my.... Of course, Elliott always looks after his hair and clothes, always neat and well-groomed, but the Farmer portrayed him in the picture just like a real person of royal blood. He is very grateful to them for such a wonderful gift, because a handmade gift is a true act of friendship. Well, not only friendship... Now Elliott needs to figure out how to attach the portrait so that it does not fall off the wall of his little beach house.

[dragondemoness]

Akane owari with a boyfriend that absolutely adores her and is affectionate. Thing is though she's worried that he only likes her because of her body and when he finds out he reassures her that he loves for her personality not her body.

Akane Owari with an Affectionate Boyfriend who Loves Her for who she is

She smells suspicion

You had always been strangely kind and amiable towards Akane, which threw her off a bit at first

But she didn't mind it, and naturally, it ended up drawing her to you

She was pretty casual when she asked you out, completely unprepared for how your attitude would evolve later on

She just figured that was the way you treated everyone, not once considering that she was a special case

Boy, was she wrong

Right after your relationship was made official, you jumped on her and gave her a tight koala hug

As if that wasn't surprising enough, there was a lot more where that came from

You were all over her every day and night, hugging her, kissing her, telling her how much you loved her and how special she was to you

Poor Akane had no idea how to deal with this

She never got compliments or affection like that before, unless it was from someone who did those things for creepy purposes

Maybe that's what this was

It's not like she was a stranger to that stuff, of course

If anything, she expected it

But she liked you a lot, and the thought of that being true made her heart sink

Sure, you complimented her on other things besides her body, but maybe it was some other method of buttering her up

Akane wasn't sure how to confront you about it, and she didn't want to see your normally pleasant and affectionate attitude turn sour

So she decided to say nothing, for the time being

But then one day, still somewhat early into your relationship, you two were hanging out together as you were giving Akane another one of your famous hugs

She tried to enjoy it, but it felt so weird to her that she had to say something

"Hey, uh... You sure love doin' this huggy thing a lot. You wanna cop a feel or somethin'?"

You pulled away and looked at her in surprise

"What? No, I do that because I love you. I mean, of course you're a really pretty girl, but that's not the reason I'm with you."

...Huh?

"Well damn, really? So... You don't wanna feel my knockers or anythin'?"

You chuckled as you shook your head

"No, Akane. I would only do that because you want it, not because you feel like you have to let me do it. And you never have to feel like that with me, okay? I love all of you, Akane. And I always will."

Hearing that from you was both a surprise and a relief

Once she recovered from the shock, she gave you a smile before burying her face into your neck and continuing the cuddles

After years of being mistreated by other men, she finally found someone who truly cared about her wants and needs

Even though she would likely ask that same question a few more times later on, and would need you to reassure her once more, she was glad to feel safe and secure with you

And of course, she did get used to your affection in the end, and she could never get enough of it

[whoneedsapublisher]

Boughs

Sayaka and Homura, sitting in a tree...

Words: ~850

Summary: A beautiful view, shared with… well, you wouldn't catch Sayaka calling a "beautiful girl" to her face.

Also on Ao3

***************

Sayaka had to admit, it was a nice sunset. From the boughs of the aged oak tree on top of the hill, you could see almost the whole of Mitakihara, an orange glow spreading across it from the horizon as the lights of the night started to flicker on in bits and pieces across the city. Flashes of neon and house lights, turned on long before the street lights would come on, glimmers in the sea of buildings below them. The sun sinking below the horizon like the dying embers of a campfire glowing one last time.

It was a wonderful view.

The company could do with some improvement, though.

“Why am I here, transfer student?”

Homura didn’t bother to look away from the horizon when Sayaka turned to ask her the question. She didn’t seem all that enthralled by it, though. Her face was as expressionless as always.

“That’s a very philosophical question, Sayaka Miki,” she said, with that familiar deadpan sarcasm. “Why are any of us here on this earth?”

“I’m not talking about why I’m on earth,” Sayaka said. “I’m asking you why I’m sitting in a tree with my forty fifth favourite classmate when I could be doing… anything else.”

“There are only thirty people in our class.”

“I know.”

Homura snorted.

“I think you’re the best suited to answer that question,” she said. “But I’ll humour you. You’re here because I asked you to join me, and for reasons better know to you than me, you agreed.”

“You know exactly why I agreed!” Sayaka snapped. “When I told you no, you said “I suppose I’ll just ask Madoka then”!”

Homura finally turned from the sunset to smirk at Sayaka. “And of course, Sayaka Miki the protective friend could never let innocent little Madoka share a tree branch with someone as suspicious as Homura Akemi the sinister transfer student.”

“I don’t trust you,” Sayaka said. “You might do something weird to her.”

“Oh?” Homura said. She scooted along the tree branch a little, drawing closer to Sayaka. “Then isn’t it terribly dangerous for you to be here? What I did something like that to you?”

The next words came out Sayaka’s mouth before she fully thought about them. Not entirely unusual, she had to admit, but even for her it was rare to find herself surprised by her own words. 

“Better me than Madoka.”

“So heroic,” Homura said. “What a wonderful act of selfless self-sacrifice. You really are a true magical girl.”

She reached up a hand and cupped Sayaka’s cheek. “I suppose you’d suffer through anything for Madoka’s sake. Take her place in any hardship.”

Sayaka’s heart thudded in her chest as Homura’s thumb gently stroked her face.

“I would too,” Homura said softly. “Let’s save her from each other.”

Sayaka was sure that Homura must have initiated it. It wouldn’t make any sense for it to be anything else. But somehow, when their lips met, it was halfway between them.

Homura must have pulled her head down with the hand on her cheek. That… must have been it.

It was warmer than Sayaka had expected. Despite the fact that they were dead, the both of them, corpses animated by magic, Homura’s lips felt warm and soft. She didn’t have anything to compare it to. She wished she did. But part of her was happy that her first was as pleasant as this was.

When they pulled apart, neither of them said anything, turning back to watch as the sun finished slinking below the horizon, the blazing orange of sunset changing to the muddy darkness of twilight.

Finally, when it was finished, and the sun was fully gone from view, Sayaka spoke up again.

“Why did you ask me first, instead of going straight to Madoka?”

“Who knows?” Homura said, staring out into the newborn night with that same expressionless look on her face. “I suppose you were just a little bit closer.”

Sayaka didn’t respond to that. She didn’t know what she’d hoped to hear. She wasn’t even sure if she liked the answer she’d gotten.

It would have to do for now, though. Night had fallen. She had duties.

Hopping down from the branch, she landed transformed. Homura watched her from the branch, still in her school uniform.

“I have a patrol to go on,” Sayaka said.

“Heaven forbid I stand in the way of justice,” Homura said.

Sayaka bristled and stalked off, aware of Homura’s eyes on her back as she did.

By day, she was a student, a normal girl who laughed with her friends and listened to music in the mall. By night, she was a magical girl, who protected the city.

But maybe, at twilight, there was space for something else. Something that the normal student would never want. Something that the magical girl should never have.

In the boughs of a tree with a beautiful view, Sayaka had her first kiss.

And looked forward to the second.

[raeflora]

you're supposed to care (but you never make me scream)

[blair wants to try something new in bed with chuck- I mean dan, definitely dan... aka the only time I'll ever write dair, set between 5x20 and 5x21 ♡ rated e]

If Blair were to be entirely honest with herself, which is a rarity as of late, she enjoys sex. The intimacy of it, the overwhelming pleasure, the way she can spend hours and hours in bed and not get tired of it. Finding what you adore and what you don't, getting to discover parts of yourself you never knew about. Doing all of it with someone you love and trust and know so intimately. It makes her heart flutter.

Not that she's experienced any of that lately, of course.

Her relationship with Dan is fine. They talk about art and cinema and books, which is pleasant enough. He stays overnight at her penthouse sometimes, and gets so into talking about whatever pretentious movie he just saw that often he forgets there are other things you can do in bed beside talk. Sometimes, she does too. Their foray into drunken elevator sex, and then even more drunken alleyway sex, convinced her that somewhere deep, deep, inside Dan Humphrey might be ok in bed. She just hadn't experienced it very much.

Experience. That's the word that swims around in her head as she waves Dan off that morning for another day of whatever it is that he does. She just has so much more sexual experience to draw from. Brushing past Dorota she declares that she will spend the day doing important research, and that she's not to be disturbed. After all, this is definitely the most productive way to spend her day. Definitely.

She retrieves her diaries from the end of her bed, gratefully noting that they're so easy to access. Turning to the ones she knows are from 2009 to 2010 she begins flipping through the first, pausing on an entry partway through.

June 20th 2009. Tonight I went out for dinner with Chuck. It was... exhilarating. He took me to a private dining lounge where we were completely secluded from everyone else, which, aside from being so romantic, was also so arousing. Naturally Chuck felt the same. He didn't even wait until the waiter had left the room before his fingers were on me, making me burn for him. When he moved them up into me I thought I was going to scream. Maybe I did. I couldn't focus on anything but Chuck.

Blair frowns, ignoring the heat in her cheeks. Being fingered in a restaurant was incredible, but Dan doesn't like expensive restaurants, and she doesn't really want to take him to any. Or have his fingers anywhere near the inside of her La Perlas. She continues her search, stopping again near the end of this diary.

September 18th 2009. We had breakfast with my mother this morning. I know Chuck would never say it, but I think he likes the domesticity of it. Truthfully, I think my mother does as well. She's taken to Chuck better than I expected, and I think she's actually happy for me. Well, happier than when she walked in on him going down on me at breakfast during the summer at least. After we ate Chuck and I bathed together. And had sex. It was wonderful. We've had sex in his bath and shower at the Palace, so it's not like it was entirely unfamiliar. At least it made going to NYU today more bearable, plus Chuck said he'd have a surprise waiting for me tonight. I can't wait.

Blair huffs, tossing the diary aside, still ignoring how warm her face is. There's no way she can have sex in the bath with Dan, she doesn't think his apartment even has a shower, and there's no way they're doing it here, her bath is simply too small for the first attempt. Scowling, she picks up another diary, not bothering to check the year, and begins scanning the pages for anything useful. She stops.

February 2nd 2010. "Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same" I'm writing this as Chuck is asleep next to me, my brooding Heathcliff is apparently easier to tire than I thought. He deserves his rest though, tonight was our first escape from reality for a while and I know he needs it. I've been asking if we can play Wuthering Heights for weeks, and he finally agreed. It was everything I dreamed and more. Chuck was everything I dreamed and more. Hearing him quoting Brontë by heart was the most arousing and intoxicating experience, although I know his copy is just as well-read as mine. The way he made love to me was intense but still so caring. Still Chuck, but also different. It doesn't matter whose names we use in the end, because he will always be my Chuck. Always. "I have to remind myself to breathe- almost to remind my heart to beat"

Blair hums, a smile blooming onto her lips as she snaps the diary shut. Roleplay! Of course! It's the perfect way to mix fantasy with reality, and hopefully get Dan somewhere near satisfying her. He's always talking about how he's an intellectual and how similar their tastes in books are, so this should be something he can do. She sets her diaries down next to her current one, and begins to plot.

Obviously, there are her favourite books to choose from. Anna Karenina. Wuthering Heights. Pride and Prejudice. Or Shakespeare plays, she's always been partial to Much Ado About Nothing. Something about Beatrice and Benedick just gets her really turned on. She's sure that Dan will be able to quote at least one of them with all his literary prowess. Actually, before she can plan any further she should probably check. After all, she needs to know what outfits to get. She picks up her phone and dials him, already starting to look through her closet. He picks up surprisingly quickly.

"Dan hi" she coos, fingers running over purple velvet "I hope I'm not interrupting you"

"No of course not. Actually I was just about to-"

She cuts him off "great!" There was something I wanted to ask you. Would you be interested in playing with me tonight?"

"Play like- like Scrabble or something? I thought you hated boardgames"

She sighs "no, Dan. Play with me like roleplay with me. Sexually"

There's silence for a moment before he speaks again "oh, uh, sure. I guess- I've never really, um, what did you have in mind?"

"How about Jane Austen?" she chirps

"I'm not really an Austen fan, y'know? There's a lot of, uh, brooding and it's just not really my thing"

She tries not to sound too disappointed "oh ok. Then how about something by the Brontë sisters?"

"Again it's, uh, doesn't Rochester go blind? I'm not sure that's exactly erotic"

"Alright" she tries to keep her voice even "how about you come over and I surprise you?"

"Yeah that, uh, sounds fun. Look, I need to go but I'll see you tonight"

"See you tonight" she sighs "bye"

Blair groans, flopping down onto the couch in her closet. Rochester going blind can be erotic thank you very much. Once, with Chuck, she blindfolded him and had him navigate her body entirely through touch. He made her orgasm over and over again. It was beautiful. Anyway, where was she? Ah yes. Dan. She can still make this work, she tells herself. Roleplay doesn't have to be specific characters, it can simply be a theme or an idea. There must be some fantasy she wants Dan to play out that he would never think of himself. There just has to be.

Wait, that's it!

She can turn Dan into a hygienic, rich, sexy, amazing in bed, hygienic, passionate, did she mention hygienic, man for one night. He'd never think of that. And she knows just how to do it. Time to get to work.

Blair hums idly to herself as she goes around her room that evening, lighting candles and making sure everything looks perfect. It does, naturally. She just hopes that Dan actually appreciates her efforts this time. Her outfit is all ready, hidden under the long green silk robe she doesn't actually remember buying that somehow found its way into her closet. It must have been a gift.

Her outfit and accessories for Dan are spread across her bed. Now she just needs him. She's not entirely sure what's taking him so long, given that neither of them exactly have jobs right now. Well, technically, Dan's a writer. She always forgets. Maybe he's writing something and that's why he's late. Maybe she'll make him roleplay as someone punctual next time.

"Blair it's me" Dan's voice cuts through her thoughts from the other side of the door "can I come in?"

She gives her bed one last look over "of course. Come on in..."

Dan steps in cautiously, as if he expects her to pounce on him. Please. She still has some dignity. She watches as he takes in the candles and chilling champagne, until his eyes land on the clothes spread out over her duvet and the black bag next to them.

"Don't be nervous" she coos, wondering when she started to sound like a dove, "you'll enjoy what I've got planned. I promise"

"I'm uh- wow, I wasn't expecting to have to get changed"

"It's roleplay, Dan. You can't exactly fulfill your wildest fantasies in the clothes you've been wearing all day" she finishes by playfully tugging his shirt.

"I guess not. So what wild fantasy-" he gestures his arms around, in a way Blair assumes is meant to be sexy, as he starts to unbutton his collar "are we fulfilling tonight?"

Blair smiles coyly "you'll be a hot, well-groomed, hygienic, rich young professional and I'll be your latest conquest. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, but why did you emphasise hygienic?"

"What do you mean?" Blair frowns.

"You said hot, well-groomed and hygienic-"

"And rich"

"Of course. But uh, why is hygienic in there?"

"Because it's a fantasy Dan" Blair explains slowly, patience dwindling " it's not meant to be like real life"

Dan frowns, making his face look like a confused chihuahua, "I'm hygienic Blair"

"Mm-hmm. Anyway do you want to see your outfit?"

She claps, spinning around to lift up the garment bag. Dan takes it apprehensively, clearly trying to feel what's inside.

"Go and put it on. When you're done there are a few finishing touches I need to do to you and then we can start"

She pushes him into her bathroom, and sits back on her bed to wait. She never really had to wait for Chuck, she realises before she can stop herself. They would get changed together, already halfway in character, or they would both turn up ready. They never wanted to waste a second on awkwardness or waiting. Unlike Dan, apparently.

He finally emerges, clad in a Dolce & Gabbana suit, Turnbull & Asser shirt and bowtie, and Bottega shoes. Blair grins, beckoning him over. He looks uncomfortable up close, but ironically he's never looked better. She spritzes him with Dior's Fahrenheit cologne, inhaling the familiar woody and Sicilian mandarin scent. Perfect.

"Blair" he starts, frown creasing between his eyebrows "I look like Chuck"

She almost laughs "what?"

"I look" he gestures up and down himself "like Chuck Bass"

"No you don't" she protests, pushing his still too long hair back and discreetly wiping her hand on her robe to rid herself of his hair's seemingly permanent oiliness.

"I'm wearing a bowtie"

"That's just how rich, hygienic men dress Hu- Dan"

"It just feels like maybe you want to have sex with Chuck and not me. Are you sure you weren't thinking of him when you put this fantasy together"

"Don't be stupid, I haven't thought about Chuck in forever" she retorts, carefully avoiding mentioning that she's thought of Chuck approximately 78 times today, which is fewer than yesterday she'll have you know.

"Really?"

"Of course" she soothes, toying with the tie of her robe "besides, don't you want to see what I'm wearing?"

He smiles stupidly, reaching for her robe himself. She rapidly drops it before he can get there. No need to have him in character just yet. Her soft lilac Agent Provocateur bra pushes her breasts up in a way she never felt was necessary until starting this romance with Dan, the matching delicate panties half hidden beneath the lace garter belt holding up her stockings. She gazes up at him, eyelashes fluttering.

"Do you like it?" she asks softly.

"Uh yeah. You- you look great"

"Just great?" she prompts.

He pauses briefly, considering his words "really great. You look really great" is what he settles on.

Blair plasters on a smile before moving the bag with the Fahrenheit cologne in. Showtime.

"So what do you want our scenario to be?" she asks, coming to sit on the bed.

"Scenario?" Dan echoes.

"You know, you're a rich professional, I'm your latest conquest, is this our first time, are we at your place or mine, how did we get here? Also, how many rounds do we go, are you dominant or submissive, do we need a safe word? Come on, you should be good at this" she encourages.

"Dominant or- wow uh," he murmurs "well, it's our first time and, uh, we're at your place. Our relationship was meant to be strictly professional until our explosive chemistry left us needing to take it into the bedroom. How's that so far?"

Blair refrains from commenting on the explosive chemistry line "good, good, keep going"

"Uh, we go until you tell me to stop. And our safe word is-um-" he looks around the room, eyes landing on Blair's shelves "cabbage"

"Like... my doll?"

"Yeah. I thought safe words were meant to be stupid things you wouldn't say during sex"

Her safe word with Chuck was either stop, red, or "I have not the pleasure of understanding you" from Pride and Prejudice if they were feeling dramatic. They often were. Saying something stupid feels wrong somehow. Ordinary.

Blair's smile doesn't reach her eyes as she speaks "good. Well now that's all clear shall we begin? How do you want me?"

Dan awkwardly positions her on her back, her hands lamely at her sides. It'll improve, she thinks, once they get going. Once her fantasy can begin.

"We shouldn't be doing this" Dan starts, his voice strangely low, and Blair realises that he's trying to act, "after all, what would everyone say?"

"But I want to. I want you" comes out stronger than she intended, her fantasy already beginning in her mind, "I want to know what it's like to be in the arms of a man like you"

"Oh you do? Well tell me what you want"

"Touch me"

Blair shuts her eyes, and lets her own fantasy take over.

Chuck's hands are warm on her, sliding up and down her sides, teasing her, making her want more before they've even really begun. His fingers trace the thin band of her bra, not yet dipping under but the promise of it is there. She can feel it. He gently runs his palm down her taut stomach, long fingers gliding effortlessly over her skin until he reaches her thighs, quickly snapping each stocking away from the garter belt, making her hips arch up off of the bed in search for more.

"Not yet" he husks from somewhere above her "I'm going to make you work harder than that, baby"

She complies, pouting just to tease him. His hands are back at her bra, softly cupping her breasts through the thin silk. Then, they are back on her sides, his own way of teasing her. His breath is deliciously warm on her neck as he kisses her there, his familiar scent curling into her nostrils. His kisses are slow, deliberately placed up and down her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone. It is exquisite. It is torture. It is Chuck.

Except.

Except it's not. Chuck's hands do not press too hard against her ribs but too gently at her waist. Chuck's fingers are not as slender as the ones pulling uselessly at her garter belt. Chuck's kisses on her neck are not sloppy or too soft. Blair opens her eyes. Reality hits her like a Nate Archibald punch to the face.

It is Dan's hands that are too hard, too gentle. It is Dan's slender fingers that are tugging pathetically at her garter belt. It is Dan's kisses on her neck that are too sloppy, too soft. Blair pulls away.

"I think it's a little late to play hard to get baby" Dan drawls, and she nearly shoves him out of her bed for daring to talk to her like that.

"I- don't call me tha- stop" she tries, too caught up in her own fantasy to remember what theirs is meant to be.

"Huh?" is Dan's eloquent reply.

She huffs, unable to prevent her eyes from rolling as she speaks "Cabbage, Dan. Cabbage"

His eyes grow wide "oh sorry, are you ok? Was that- was that too much? Do you want me to go slower?"

She wants him to go out the door, but that's not what she says, "I just need a minute" is what she decides on instead "I don't think this is working"

"Of course, I'm so sorry" he lies down next to her, "we can change position if you want. Or I can try literature? Uh, whatever souls are made of his and mine are the same and all that"

"Our souls" Blair corrects automatically "it's our souls"

"Oh yeah, sure. So, do you want to try again?"

Blair pauses. Does she? Tonight was meant to be a fantasy, but she feels closer to reality than she has for months.

"Alright" comes out of her mouth, surprising even her, "let's try it again"

Dan grins, climbing back on top of her. This time she reaches up to unbutton his shirt, her eyes closing instinctively.

The silk of Chuck's bowtie slides easily between her fingers, before she tosses it into the darkness, following quickly with his shirt. He slides her bra off in return, head dipping to kiss between her breasts. She gasps softly as he descends down her body, kissing teasingly above the band of her La Perlas. He tugs at them playfully with his teeth, hands sneaking back up her body to cup her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples.

"Chuck, oh God-" she moans, one hand twisting into the sheets, the other into his hair "don't stop-!"

"Never" he whispers hotly against her now bare, slick skin, La Perlas somewhere down her thighs.

She bucks up to meet his mouth, and this time he doesn't deny her anything. She cries out, completely uncaring of who may hear. Her hand holds his head but he doesn't need any help. He knows her. She's all his. Her palm runs down to his back, nails sinking into his skin. All that thrums through her body is Chuck, Chuck, Chuck. It is just her and him. Chuck and Blair. Blair and Chuck.

Except.

Except where she should be feeling softness there is hardness. What should be smooth under her fingertips is sharp. Where there should be warmth there is cold. Blair's eyes snap open.

Above her Dan pulls awkwardly at the bowtie, confusion evident in his face. Blair's own fingers are still on his unbuttoned shirt, just grazing his too cool skin, as she tries to make sense of what's happening. He tosses the bowtie aside, then turns his gaze down to Blair's panties. She frowns, kicking her foot out at him slightly. He still reaches his hand out towards her.

"Uh, hey-" she starts, trying to think of how to finish this.

"Oh do you want to play some more, baby?" he says in a tone Blair can only describe as the the least sexy thing she's ever heard, and she resists the urge to kick him again.

"Cabbage" she says through gritted teeth, "Cabbage"

"Oh- sorry, sorry" he puts his hand on her face, "are you ok?"

"I-" Blair sighs, shifting pointedly away from his hand, "I just think the roleplay's not working"

Dan considers her for a moment "is it the voice? Because I can work on it if, uh, that's what you want. Or I can try an accent, maybe make it more exciting"

"Do you ever stop talking?" she huffs, before returning to placating mode, "I think that we should stop for tonight, Dan. Maybe try again another time"

"Ok" he flops down next to her, the scent of Fahrenheit thankfully still in the air, "you know, I think I could get into this. I could, uh, write us scripts. How about 'Inside Her: the untold Clair Carlyle story'. That could be fun" he grins, nudging her arm.

Blair nods distractedly, not even bothering to ask who Clair Carlyle is and why she should care "I'm sure it'll be great Dan. I need to go freshen up"

"Sure. I'll be waiting right here. Oh, did you see the MET has a Rembrandt and Degas exhibit? Maybe we could go this weekend"

"Of course" Blair says simply, shutting her bathroom door on reality for as long as she can.

That night as Dan lies in her bed, the traces of Fahrenheit long gone and once again making her sheets smell like Brooklyn, Blair sits at her desk. She flicks through her diaries, memories of a different lifetime swirling like a kaleidoscope in front of her.

-I finally tried that with Chuck tonight. I know, I always said I wasn't ready but tonight I was. I wasn't scared exactly, but I didn't know what to expect. It was amazing though, and experiencing it with Chuck was so perfect-

-food tastes so much better when you eat it off of someone. Maybe we should have a bacchanal more often-

-I can't believe that Basshole actually spanked me last night as if I didn't have a whole day of classes at NYU to sit through today. I'm so going to enjoy punishing him tonight-

-handcuffing Chuck to the bed is so much easier when he's naked first. It also turns him on so much quicker-

-Chuck really thinks he's going to last longer than me in this stupid sex fast. He's actually banished me from the Empire. Luckily, Lily just so happened to invite me to brunch today. If that motherchucker wants to play dirty then let's get dirty, Bass-

-neither of us know if the elevators in Lily's building have cameras. It's not exactly something I can ask Serena. I hope they do-

Blair shuts them, pushing the pile to one side. Without thinking she opens her current one, turning to the next page. For some reason, writing her feelings in her diary gives her a sense of deniability. As though she can claim anything she writes is simply fleeting, even when it obviously isn't. Besides, it's not as if anyone else is ever going to read it and know she's lying, she thinks, as she starts to write what she can't say, letting her heart flow out.

I miss my Vronsky. My Heathcliff. My Darcy. My Rochester. My Benedick. My Gatsby. My waiter. My student. My Parisian lover. My devil redeemed. My love. My Chuck. I thought trying roleplay with Dan would help but he's awful. He can't even quote Wuthering Heights, let alone do anything else. So much for his literary genius. Clearly drunk elevator sex is his peak. You know, I've lost count of how many times I've had sex with Chuck. Hundreds? Thousands? I couldn't even guess. I can count for Dan on one hand. I feel this pressure with him. This feeling that he thinks he's... above me. Dan Humphrey will never be that. I mean, is he going to win some kind of award for his writing? I doubt it. Even after our disastrous coming out party I still don't think anyone knows who he is, outside of about five people. I don't want to be defined by that, by whoever Dan wants me to be."When you love someone, you love the whole person, just as he or she is, and not as who you would like them to be"

Blair closes her diary, tucking it away where Dan's prying eyes won't be able to see. Tonight, although being something of a disaster, is actually the closest Dan's come to satisfying her. He was vaguely hygienic for ten minutes. That's almost as mind-blowing as an orgasm from Chuck. Almost. She'd much prefer the ectasy of a Chuck Bass given orgasm than the ecstasy of Dan Humphrey going near a bar of soap of course, but it's something.

She climbs quietly into bed. As she turns away from the distinct scent of Brooklyn ruining her sheets she allows her mind to wander, hopefully landing on a movie for her dream. In a break from the complete filmography of Audrey Hepburn maybe Wuthering Heights is more suitable for tonight. After all, she loves a dark brooding anti-hero. In fantasy and reality.

[velvetineblue]

@wellfell

the show ends on a discordant note of guitar, lingering in the air with a pleasant but sharp ringing. the crowd cheers, their warm bodies gathered close and carefree; like unwitting cattle in a slaughterhouse, beating with pulp and blood. his teeth ache in his gums, and eyes roam the flock with a hungry gaze that must have seemed a theatrical byproduct of the show, with it's gloomy, moody noise . . . small towns like this, they think every stranger ( from the big city ) was danger incarnate. but in this instance: they're right. to him, this was another dark night in a dimly lit bar, where easy opportunity presents itself. the band's performance was a hunting ground as much as it was a stage : o how simple it would be to pick a target out of one of these unsuspecting-- sometimes overly compliant-- bodies, and draw them out of the glow and smoke and into the dark, where no living eyes could see or understand what had befell them. in the pitch black, none were adapted to perceive, except for nocturnal creatures born to stalk prey in the NIGHT. ) . . . but even an animal has it's standards. the garden was ripe in Hawkins, Indiana: and there was no need to drain from a poisoned fruit. he picked from the vine wisely, not taking a bite from just anyone, and not every night. he looks for those whose sly smiles and glancing gaze invited him their way. and just as expected: a woman with shortly cropped, copper-toned hair sips from a straw coyly, examining the frontman and the band's grungy-haired bassist with un-subtle interest. ( out-of-towner, black-clad musicians that stand out from the usual residents of Hawkins are bound to inspire a dark intrigue from the local riffraff and rebels . . . ) so focused on this potential CATCH of the day, it takes him by surprise— when from aside, he hears a ominous whisper: ' run away from this town while you still can. ' he brushs shoulders with someone in the crowd, and his dark eyes meet Akina's with sparked surprise — ?

. . . she doesn't look like prey. he decided it at once. call it a hunters instinct, but there was something about her that told him she would be no easy bite. for that, he could have walked away . . . but his head tilts at her in an intellectually-curious acknowledgement. what a strange girl, to openly say those words. she must fancy herself a wolf among lambs, in this town of victimized souls . . . " . . . shouldn't I be saying that to you ? " his voice intones, amusement slowly spreading on his features. " . . . I've heard the rumors that this town is cursed, and monsters prowl at night... " he smirks. but those had all just been the superstitions of small-minded, small-town folk... ( he blindly assumes. ) all fake until he showed up to town, that is. " but that can't be true, right? " he plays dumb. " I'm not from around here, so I don't really buy the stories... " the silly stories sure did provide a nice cover for any vampires who clung to the shadows, though. " . . . it all sounds kind of far-fetched to me. "

[carpe-astra]

Ice & Ghosts

Andres He's been waiting in the same cafe he'd taken Mael to, several weeks before. Sitting at a table near the edge of the small room, humming along to the lazy jazz music drifting out of ceiling speakers. There's a cup in front of him, filled with untouched tea. He's not entirely sure whether to expect his company early, late, or exactly on time, and as a result arrived nearly as soon as the sun sank below the horizon. Hopefully she'd found the note, hidden away amongst papers on a desk at a certain school. Scrawled in neat cursive on the petal of a small, but precisely-folded origami flower, "I know about your cat. Want to help. Meet me-" And the address of the place in which he was now seated, along with a time. Short. Simple. And maybe a bit dramatic. A little flair never hurt anyone.

Spektor Iocaine ‡There had been a great deal of surprise to find the letter tucked away in a stack of ungraded Geography exams, accompanied with sharp burn of emotion that she didn't have the time to untangle. Only to know that it simultaneously ached and drew forth a cold anger. Tucked away in the top pocket of her briefcase, the teacher had followed her usual steps during the day, sticking to routine nearly by muscle memory only. It was only at the end, when she was locking up her second classroom for the night as the time dwindled down to what had been listed on the flower, that she deviated. Rather than head home, she headed into the city and to the Merchant's Circle to find the cafe listed. On the way, sparing a moment to text Liliana where she was going, why, and to tell Knox. Something she would be able to find when she rose for the evening, in case something went awry.‡

‡At precisely the time requested was when Spektor stepped through the doors, but the previous fifteen minutes had been spent across the street, studying those that entered and left, and whom lingered within. For exactly that reason, her steps do not waver as she made her way to the uncomfortably familiar man, resting a hand on the back of the seat across the table.‡ I knew you were a stalker, but taking someone's dead pet is a real low.

Andres Castillo A pleasant smile is offered to the woman heading towards him, even as the accusation falls from her lips. "Hello. It's Spektor, isn't it? Or would you prefer Ms. Iocane? Please, have a seat." He waves towards the chair on which she'd placed her hand, and settles back somewhat in his own. "Is that the name you were given at birth, or did you change it? I hope you'll pardon the intrusive question, it's just… quite a name." And he waits, hands folded on the table in front of him. Either for her to sit down across from him, or to refuse the offer.

Spektor Iocaine I'd much prefer neither be spoken by you, but if you must address me, Ms. Iocaine is acceptable. ‡Rare was the day Spektor kept anything but a quiet, demurring pleasantry in place, a mask of her own that kept a great deal at a distance. Something to help keep a cap on the riot of emotions just under the cold exterior, waiting to make her blood boil into a Bloodrage. Her cat had been the last thing from her life as a mortal, and the hollow space where the bond had existed was frozen over and empty. Like his little grave. Her hand tightened on the back of the chair before drawing it out to take a seat finally.‡ It was the name I was given at my death. ‡She only needed to play nice until she had the information about Ghost, and then she could coax this Kindred outside and way from civilians, before taking him down.‡

Andres Castillo "Ms. Iocane, then." The smile on his face is entirely too warm for the strange meeting. He tries to meet her eyes, and she might begin to feel a tug in the back of her mind. A sort of out-of-place, people pleasing fondness, directed solely towards the man sitting across from her. Growing, as he leans forwards, and lowers his voice a little. "I have no idea where your cat is, or what happened to it. But that's alright. Maybe it'll turn up eventually. I was actually going to ask whether you'd like to come with me. Maybe we could walk and talk. The weather's lovely, tonight." He'd considered waiting. Chatting away with the other vampire, hinting at knowing things he didn't. But it's safer this way. He only really has one goal, and more meddling than necessary only meant more things that could go wrong.

Spektor Iocaine ‡She is looking at his face, his eyes, reading him. Judging for herself if he was lying to get to Mael, or if he really knew something about Ghost. As she studied him, she began to realize there was something… not quite handsome, because Knox was handsome in his rugged way, but perhaps acutely beautiful about Andres. She wasn't quite sure how she hadn't noticed it before, but there it was. The admission that he didn't know anything about Ghost left her frowning, perhaps it would be best to walk and talk with him as it were. It felt rare that anyone wanted to spend time with her, and much less a man. Besides, it'd let her get closer to him, which was what she wanted, wasn't it? To help Mael, but also because Andres wanted her to go with him. Spektor smoothed hair behind her ear, mouth moving into a smile.‡ Of course you wouldn't know anything about Ghost. Although I don't understand why you would lie about it in the first place. But you could explain, while we walk. ‡They needed to be away from the civilians. For their safety. Or was it because she wanted him alone? Well yes, of course she wanted him alone. Spektor rose from the chair she had just occupied, gesturing towards the door in silent implication for Andres to lead the way.‡

Andres Castillo His face is largely impassive, minus the still-friendly smile curling across his lips. An expression not quite reflected by his eyes. Taking time to study his face, she might also notice imperfections that hadn't been present the last time he'd been around. The faintest of scars, running in a jagged, but only vaguely noticeable diagonal groove across his face. An even fainter line tracing its way from the edge of his jaw, up, around to run along one part of his hairline, and connect to the more prominent blemish. They're still healing, but considerably more slowly than he'd like. Anything immediately obvious covered by skillfully applied makeup. "I hope you'll forgive me for alluding to know about your cat. In all honesty, Ms. Iocane, I really just wanted to see you." He rises smoothly from his seat in turn, and heads for the door. Moving at a leisurely, human pace, and holding the door open for Spektor. "Tell me more about what's going on with that, though. The cat's name is ghost?" He has a direction in mind, and starts to head down the sidewalk once they're both outside.

Spektor Iocaine ‡Something had happened to him. She wanted to ask, but there was a tingle in the back of her head that asking would be dangerous. He was dangerous, and she knew he was interested in stealing beautiful faces, she hoped he wouldn't ask for hers. Although, she found herself thinking, she'd be willing to give it over. Best not to draw focus, and avoid it altogether. She swept through the door he held open for her in gentlemanly fashion, pausing on the sidewalk for Andres to catch up. Tucking hands into the small of her back, the briefcase dangling from the curl of her fingers where it swung lightly with her steps as she matched his pace.‡ I suppose I could be convinced to forgive you. ‡More teasing than she had intended, tasting her tone with some surprise. A surprise that swiftly melts away.‡ You did? What for? ‡Despite being nighttime, there were still people on the streets. Those who survived in the night, or preferred it, beginning their 'day' so to speak. Bustling from businesses to business, running errands or shopping, or working.‡ Ah, yes. His name was Ghost. He was a childhood pet that I took with me when I left home. When I was changed, I ghouled him, so he would survive. My Sire… he didn't like animals, and I was afraid he'd try to kill him… ‡The words spill out before she even realized she was saying anything at all, more than happy to tell him what he wanted her to, until they could be alone.‡

Andres Castillo "Just to talk, Spektor. You caught my eye, the last time I visited the club. There's something I'd like to show you." He can't even recall whether she'd been there, the last time. Doesn't very much care. "I am sorry about Ghost. It sounds like he was very dear to you." The apartment he's been staying at isn't very far from the cafe. A few blocks down, a right turn, and another block. He quickens his pace to a not-uncomfortable stroll, stealing occasional glances at the Kindred beside him. "Hate to change the subject, but… How is our mutual friend? Mael?"

Spektor Iocaine ‡ You caught my eye. It was strange to think that after all this time, people had noticed her. She had let herself fade into the background for so long, and here was another man saying he had seen her. The smile she wore grew, then it faded as they continued speaking about Ghost. And it was nice of Andres to express his condolences, wasn't it? Her gaze roamed the area as they walked, noting the thinning crowd as they ate up the distance and made a few turns, but her attention always drifted back to Andres before long, catching his eye when he sought her gaze.‡ Thank you. He was dear, so it means a lot. ‡Hadn't there been a reason she had been angry at him before? She could hardly even imagine being upset with him now though. Whatever it was, it must not have been that important, and Andres was always so nice to her, so it must have been a mistake anyway. Thoughts shift and slide, falling to Mael. Again, a sharp tingle went up her spine, blooming through the back of her head. Her pace slowed, coming nearly to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk with a perplexed frown.‡ Mael? He's doing well… why?

Andres Castillo "Of course." The upscale, stylishly minimalistic apartment complex is within view when Spektor slows. A reminder to tread lightly. Testing the strength of the strings he's manipulating won't end well, more than likely for either party. "I just wanted to check in." He tries to let it slide without issue. "Would you mind if we made a quick stop? My apartment's just up ahead. I jotted down a bit of what I'd heard about Ghost on a paper- just rumors, because I hadn't though about ghouling pets before, and it caught my attention. Now that I'm hearing how much he meant to you… There's always a chance I stumbled across something you might have missed? I'd like to at least try to help." Shaped brows raise expectantly, but his tone remains deliberately patient.

Spektor Iocaine ‡The neighborhood is swankier than anything Spektor has ever lived in, alive or dead. She probably had enough money by this point to live in a place like this, but in the end, it was easier to find a place in the Red Light. Safer in Valentino's domain, and easier for Knox to find her. The rows of uniform houses, upscale and beautiful, were enjoyable to look at all the same. Something about Andres' response settled uneasily, trying to place the why of it. Wasn't she supposed to do something about him? Those thoughts slip away however, as he mentioned Ghost again. It really was kind of him to go so far for her, wasn't it? Making a short stop for him was the least she could do, for how he was trying to help her.‡ Oh, of course. I would be grateful to see what you might have noted. I don't mind stopping at all. ‡It was growing harder to look away from him, caught up in his gravitational allure like a moth to flame. She desperately wanted that information, with a feverous fervor that was unlike anything she'd felt before. All of that control she'd built up for so long being dismantled in an attempt to become friends, and grow relationships, and let herself fall in love, and that allowed the emotions to shine through the cracks. Ones Andres seemed to see in her, and pluck at.‡ Please, lead the way.

Andres Castillo In spite of himself, the ease with which she agrees has him relaxing. "Thank you, Spektor. You know something? You're incredibly easy to talk to. Has anyone told you that you have a knack for making people feel comfortable?" They near the building, and he pulls the door open for her again. Waiting, and stepping in after her, assuming that she moved through the door. The inside of the building was just as generically tasteful as the outside. He's staying on the ground level for a variety of reasons, and it isn't long at all before he stops to fish out keys and unlock a door. "I'm afraid I haven't had much of a chance to decorate my space, yet. So I'll apologize for that in advance." The look he gives the woman is only vaguely apologetic. "Haven't decided yet whether I'll be staying here for very long." March 1, 2023

Spektor Iocaine I think I usually get the opposite. ‡Too formal when she did talk, and closed off at all times to boot. But it was nice of Andres to compliment her like that, and she found that the annoying tingle in the back of her head was growing more dull.‡ Although I am glad to hear it. ‡She walks in through the door he held open for her, pausing when he hunted for his keys. They were alone finally, but she couldn't remember why she had wanted it so badly in the first place. Or no, it was because she wanted to spend time with him wasn't it? That had to be it. Andres was always so busy with others, and he had shown an interest in her. A distant thread of guilt crept up, and she hoped Knox would understand. And she wasn't hiding anything - she'd asked Liliana to tell him… and really, she was being polite, and Andres had so graciously asked for the quick stop to get her information, to help, so how could she even think to say no, or change her mind?‡ Oh, that's quite alright. I completely understand. Knowing something might be temporary puts a damper on the decorating and all.

Andres Castillo "Really? That surprises me." He pushes the room door open, this time stepping inside first, and waiting to be followed. The room was neat, but generally unremarkable. And notably bare. The main room, with blank walls and a carpeted floor, opens up to a kitchen. Granite countertops, tile backsplash. A short hall leads to a bedroom, and a bathroom directly across from that. As with the rest of the building, it's clearly nice, but lacking any particular personality. He despises it. There's a couch in the room they step into. And what looks to be a rectangular, white garage freezer directly across from that, where one might put an entertainment center. "You don't mind closing the door after you? Like I said, this place really isn't much. But you were right, I guess I just… Don't want to get too comfortable. I have been considering moving, actually. Soon." He drifts absently towards the couch, but doesn't move to sit down. Tracking Spektor carefully out of the corners of his eyes. Waiting, expectantly, for her to take the place in. Urging down slowly growing impatience.

Spektor Iocaine I suppose I relegated myself to the background for so long, that I forgot how to really speak with people. ‡Platitudes and pleasantries were easy enough, but the deeper, more meaningful things were harder to dig out. There was still so much she wanted to tell Knox, and Liliana, and the others, but somewhere between wish and action, everything had gotten stuck.‡ If you don't settle here, where would you move? ‡It was hard to imagine him in any other kind of place, as she took her time to study the room. It was rather empty, almost abnormally so for someone to be staying there at all. Spektor closed the door as he requested, golden eyes falling onto the freezer set up near the front of the room. Some kindred slept more strangely than the rest. Continuing to eye it, she glanced briefly at Andres.‡ Should I just wait here?

Andres Castillo "I think you underestimate yourself, darling." It's almost a joke. There's a reason he picked her to bring here, out on all of them. "I'm not sure, yet. I'll admit, the idea of just roaming for a while is appealing. No matter how many years you've been alive, there's always something new to see. Speaking of-" He catches the direction she was looking in. Exactly what he's been hoping for. Waves towards the freezer, as if to encourage any curiosity. "If it wouldn't be any trouble, that would be best. But… If you'd like, I think there's something in there that may actually catch your interest. Go ahead and take a look." He doesn't move for the hall, but waits, still standing in front of the couch.

Spektor Iocaine Roaming certainly has its appeal. ‡It seemed to suit several of their coterie just fine. Maybe as she grew older and the years passed by, the human trappings of a home would grow to be stifling. But for now, she enjoyed a sequestered place to rest her head when she decided to.‡ Sure, it's no problem to wait here… ‡Words trailing off when Andres mentioned the freeze.r The dull, almost non-existent tingling became a dull buzz, accompanied by a frown. Her grip on the briefcase tightened, but she had already begun to walk closer to it before she even realized she was moving. He wanted her to look. ‡ What is it? ‡And she wanted to please him.‡

Andres Castillo Eyes track her every movement, every expression. Annoyance prickling in the back of his mind upon seeing her frown, but there's no indication of the feeling on his face. "See for yourself. Please. Call it a gift. For being so thoughtful as to meet with me." He takes a slight step forwards himself.

Spektor Iocaine You didn't have to get me a gift. ‡Despite her demurring words, a flush of excitement spread through her. The last gift she had received was years ago from Liliana, and truth be told, looking at the violin these days was a struggle. Desperate to play the instrument, even while she could still sometimes feel the violin strings sawing through bone and muscle, and the strain of the Bloodrage clawing through her body to tear into what was hurting her. But those thoughts drift like liquid, seeping out of consciousness because he had been so kind as to get her a gift for meeting him. It must be something that needed to stay cold, because why else the freezer? The buzzing in the back of her head kept the thought circling, even as her own body reached for the lid to open it, and see what was inside.‡

Andres Castillo "Really, it was no trouble." Upon lifting the lid, she'll find the container next to empty. Save for a couple of small, opaque, vacuum-sealed plastic bags. Otherwise… It's just a silver-lined freezer. It had been a hassle to put together on such short notice, especially with his own aversion to the metal. Easier than working any other form of containment out, though. It's a fact that he appreciated vaguely, as he moves across the room in a burst of celerity, and tries to half-lift, half-shove the woman into the box.

Spektor Iocaine ‡Something didn't quite feel right, and it tried to poke and prod itself to the fore of her thoughts, but they were clouded heavily with the prospect of a gift from Andres, who had been so kind to her thus far. She was also glad that he had stopped asking about Mael, though it felt as if there was something else to it besides a strange prick of jealousy. She knew he was dangerous, every Kindred was dangerous. But the reason he was dangerous, it was just out of her reach. Looking into the freezer, she noticed the small plastic bags. They were the only thing in there, peeking through the cold swirls of frigid mist rising out of the freezer. Spektor started to reach for one of the bags, only to abruptly recoil when she realized there was silver. Eyes widening, half turning to look at Andres - just in time for him to shove at her.‡ Hey! No! What are you doing? ‡Everything flooded in at once, the curtain tore away by the imminent danger of the silver. Andres. Face stealer. Why had she followed him? Her next words disappear in a hiss of pain as she scrabbled to catch herself, fingers burning away by silver with one hand, the other trying to grab Andres' shirt, heedless if she scratched him up.‡

Andres Castillo Teeth grit, and he tries to yank her hand away from his shirt. An attempt to slam the lid closed at nearly the same time, regardless of whether his or her own hand is in the way. "It isn't the way I wanted things to go." And it's true. It would have been simpler if he could have just taken Mael's face and left. But that doesn't mean there's any particular regret attached to his actions. It's a means to an end, and the only other option would be to abandon the venture entirely. Which isn't happening. "…You'll be alright."

Spektor Iocaine ‡Every brush of skin against the silver made her burn, blisters erupting on fair flesh at even a hint of a graze. Smoke bubbling from where she touched it in acrid loops that stung the nose. She could also feel the silver weakening her, bleeding into her muscles like a sickness that drained her strength. She nearly rips Andres down with her, the slam of the lid on her arm making the bone creak - then snap with a wet sound with the silver lining. She shouted in pain, instinctively recoiling despite herself. Her shout twists and warps, growing unbearably loud with Spektor's real power. Sound manipulated from a scream, to a cold, bitter promise even with the lid closed, and the vampire locked inside to burn away from the silver.‡ "I'll kill you."

[zoeykallus]

can you do hcs for tbb boys x reader (gf), it’s been a long week working multiple missions for cid and they return to ord mantell one night and cid tells them to take the day off tomorrow. so the batch heads back to the marauder to settle in for the night and tbb comforts reader after getting injured/just being absolutely exhausted from the last week and then reader falls asleep with her man? thank you!! <3

Some relaxing comfort with the batch, after a hard week? Sounds good to me :))

The Bad Batch x Reader HC's - Getting Some Rest

Hurt/Stress/Comfort

_________________

After a particularly hard and eventful week, you finally have a day off. Time to rest and relax. You are stressed anyway, and the last mission has left you with a few bruises. Time for your batcher to save the day, or rather, let the week end on a pleasant note.

________________

Hunter

You sit on your bunk, lifting your head heavily between slumped shoulders as Hunter returns from Cid's bar. As your eyes meet, his expression softens.

"How are you feeling, Mesh'la?"

You emit only a hum and look at him wearily.

Hunter comes closer, sits down with you, and helps you take off your gear. This week had been tough on all of you, but you took a few unpleasant extras today.

You are so exhausted that you don't complain as he helps you slip into comfortable clothes. Hunter draws in a sharp breath as he sees the blue spots.

"Why didn't you say something? You're all blue, it must hurt."

"Hunter, aside from taking a few hits from a crazed droid, I went crashing down a flight of stairs, two stories to the ground. Needless to say, I'm sore and blue"

He sighs, kisses your forehead and disappears for a moment, when he comes back he has bacta ointment with him. He rubs it on your shoulders, back, elbows, your sides, then continues with your legs. You are only in your underwear and his touch would normally have something stimulating about it, but you are so tired from the last few days that this feeling seems to be only a distant echo. You're infinitely grateful that Hunter is being considerate, he knows how you feel, he's not even trying to seduce you, even though you're alone for the first time in over two weeks.

He cares for you lovingly, he is gentle about it and takes his time before slipping into comfortable clothes himself. Hunter brings a holoprojector to your bunk, lies down with you, and gently takes you in his arms so as not to hurt you for your bruises.

"There was that movie you wanted to show me, wasn't there? Tech connected the projector to the holonet, so we can watch anything we want, theoretically."

He smiles at you and puts the remote control in your hand.

You grin at him and say, "I think you might really like this movie".

"What's it called?"

"Demolition Man"

Hunter grins and says, "Sounds like something for Wrecker."

You have to laugh, feeling the tension gradually flee from your muscles. Spending time with Hunter always did you good, one way or another.

Echo

He's rubbing ointment on you right now. His look with which he looks into your face is reproving but also gentle. He shakes his head and sighs.

"I don't like it when you bring home such bruises from our missions. It always reminds me that you were a civilian before we met and have no business in combat."

You frown and say, "That's a new tone, you never told me you didn't want me there."

Echo looks at you sadly.

"I don't mean it like that, my love."

As you look at him questioningly, Echo explains, "You're not trained for this. Granted you are very adaptable, and I was immediately excited and surprised by your eagerness, but really you don't belong in the middle of the action"

After a deep breath, you laugh softly. You yourself didn't expect to be in the thick of the fight. You're doing it mainly because of Echo, the way he protects you and takes care of you, you want to watch his back too. The feeling, if you are not there, the worry whether he comes back to you, is unbearable, so you rather throw yourself into the fight with him.

"Someone has to take care of you," you say gently.

Echo looks at you with a smirk.

"You think I can't do that myself?"

You shake your head and say jokingly, "No way."

Echo shows you a feigned pout before pressing a long, gentle kiss to your cheek.

"My beloved, sassy beauty," he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth gently a moment later.

After he has forgiven your wounds, he straightens up and says, "We have all the ingredients for my famous stew. Shall I make some?"

You beam at him. Echo is a gifted cook.

"That would be great."

You spend the rest of the evening eating his stew and watching old movies before falling asleep snuggled in his arm.

Wrecker

He gently lays you down in your bunk, helps you take off your gear. Wrecker frowns worriedly when he sees the bruises.

"Oh, Mesh'la," he says worriedly, gently tending to your wounds.

You enjoy his care, he is so gentle and attentive. Your gentle giant, whom you have seen wreak havoc on your enemies so many times, is a gentle, kind soul. You always enjoy this wonderful side of him.

When he is finished, he squeezes Lula into your arms with a gentle smile.

"Echo was kind enough to make us stew," he says, pressing a hot steaming bowl of it into your hands, with a cloth wrapped around it, so you don't scald your fingers.

With a smile, you say, "Echo be blessed."

Wrecker chomps down hungrily, eating three bowls at once. You can't blame him, he uses a lot of energy every day, and the stew is divine. Leaning back in his arm, you feel safe, and loved. Wrecker is not only the person you love the most, but also the place you feel safest, not without reason.

He has comedy switched on and his laughter tickles along your spine every time, a nice feeling, the feeling that all is well.

You kiss his chin and whisper, "I love you".

He gently squeezes you a little closer and grins with satisfaction as he says, "Not as much as I love you".

Tech

He is very concentrated, shaking his head again and again as he tends to your wounds. His brow is furrowed critically. Tech is very careful and gentle, but it's obvious how much it upsets him that you've been hurt, even though he's unusually quiet for the moment.

Tech covers you up when he's done and strokes your head gently. You smile at him.

"I need to take better care of you," he says thoughtfully.

"Tech, it's not your fault I got hurt."

He sighs and gently kisses your cheek.

"That's nice of you to say."

"Hey," you say, grabbing his arm as he tries to get up and holding him back, "It's the truth. You can't always protect me"

Tech smiles and sighs, "You're way too easy on me."

You pull him back into your bunk with a gentle tug and gently rest your forehead against his.

"My love, you are the best thing that could ever happen to me. I always feel loved and safe with you. You didn't make a mistake, if it wasn't for you, no one would have to take care of my wounds because I wouldn't be breathing. If you are honest, you know that too."

Tech puts his long arms around you and snuggles up to you.

This moment is a moment of comfort and safe peace for both of you. No one says a word, you just hold each other until you both fall asleep.

Crosshair

There are, at least to the outside observer, only two states of mind for Crosshair, angry or stoic calm. At the moment, he appears angry and restless. He tends to your wounds, muttering curses over and over again so softly that you can barely hear them. It may seem like he is angry, at you, but that is not the case, he is angry at everything and everyone at the moment, except you. He's upset that he missed the droid that caused you most of your injuries. He's angry that you didn't have all the important information about the mission from the beginning, he's angry that he can't split into four and be everywhere at once. But most of all, he is angry and worried about your injuries.

When he is done, he sighs, freshens himself up and lies down next to you without a word. You both stare at the underside of the top bunk for a while. You can hear him sigh and turn your head to look at him. In profile, he still looks tense, but also incredibly beautiful.

You smile, and as if sensing it, he turns his head to look at you as well.

"What's there to smile about?" he asks and cocks a brow at you.

Your smile turns into a grin, somehow you find this thing he does with his brow always amusing.

You feel tired and exhausted, but happy nonetheless. Crosshair is there, always taking care of you, even if mostly grumbling, but you know he likes to do it.

"I'm fine, I'm happy, I have every reason to smile".

Crosshair frowns, but his expression softens, and he says softly, "Tell me I'm the reason, then after all the shit that's happened, my day has still been perfect."

You kiss him softly and he sighs with pleasure.

"What makes you think that anything other than you could be the reason?"

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

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