#and i think canon is doing a good job with this one so i ended up leaving it out

[fang-and-feather]

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 congratulations on 100 followers, darling!!!!! You deserve the love and even more :3

I do have a prompt suggestion hehe. Of course it's my darling Theo, and I was rather fond of the prompt "I can't stop thinking about you". I read it and had such a dreamy sigh hehe.

Thank you!! 🥰❣ I am glad to celebrate with you!

Ikemen Vampire - Theo x Reader

Words: 2,216

Summary: When you and Theo finally thought things would settle between you, a brief illness had him trying to protect you again and a series of overreactions from both of you led to your first fight. Now it was Theo's birthday, and he really feared he had driven you away right when he had the solution to keep you safe and keep you close

Tags: Canon ending divergence, Making up after a fight, Romantic Fluff

Request from my 100 Followers Celebration. Prompts for it were from @anyfandomfluffbingo

this was actually the fic I planned to post for Theo's birthday, but I'm really late to it.

I wrote and discarded so much for this and had difficulty with deciding which scenes and POVs to keep. In the end I kept only one scene and it was from Theo's POV. But I can post another scene at the beginning, and the version of this one from Reader's OV later if you want.

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

Theo knew Vincent had been planning something, but with how often he left the house, the party was not what he was expecting.

Besides, Theo was already happy enough with the rest of his day he’d spent with his brother. There was only anything he wanted for his birthday, and he doubted you would be there.

He’d been such an idiot, trying to push you away when the solution to all your problems was quite obvious. But when he finally realized it, he thought you had made a drastic decision to solve it instead.

The fact it was a joke was relieving now but, when it happened, it annoyed him that you would play with something so serious.

That didn’t excuse his following behavior. And if you had made that joke, maybe it meant you were thinking about it. But that didn’t mean you had to run away like that.

Had he scared you that badly? Theo didn’t think he’d gotten that angry. But he wasn’t that good at expressing himself and understanding other people. He might have said something wrong.

That was the only reason he could think why you had left without a word, but nobody else was acting as if there was something wrong with it.

You wouldn’t have returned to your time because of such a fight, right?

Theo scanned the room as he walked in, but he was right. There was no sight of you anywhere.

The other guys, though, soon surrounded him, offering their well wishes. It was hard to say who did so out of a feeling of obligation, because on his past birthdays he barely saw some of them, others only casually greeted him through the day, and the only ‘parties’ were usually a dinner Comte organized, and some of them looked like they were forced to attend.

Not that they hated each other, but the only person Theo had gotten somewhat close to, even of the guys he’d lived with for longer, was Arthur. And maybe Leonardo, but Theo’s attempts to connect with him were through art, but Leonardo seemed to have mostly given up using his talents.

Part of it was his fault, of course. He’d been too focused on his job and his revenge to even consider connecting with anyone. Another part was some of their own social abilities.

Arthur was the only one who didn’t approach him during the exchange, stopping Isaac instead, as soon as the physician awkwardly walked away.

So when the crowd finally broke apart, Theo cast another glance around the room, looking for Vincent this time, but did not find his brother, either.

Theo turned to the door, intent on leaving to look for him, when the door slowly opened, and instead of Vincent, his gaze met your nervous but quite shining one.

But before Theo could rush to you, Arthur finally decided to pop up right before him.

“Sorry for not coming around earlier, old boy. I wanted some space to greet my best friend properly.”

Theo wanted to believe Arthur chose the timing on purpose, but that would imply some form of conspiracy he didn’t want to believe Vincent would be a part of.

“I thought Isaac was your new best friend, and I was finally free of your headaches.”

Theo looked past Arthur to see you talking happily with Comte on the other side of the room.

It was his first chance to take in the full sight of you, and the pretty dress that made you look even more stunning. A little too much for the public with how it highlighted your best features.

“Aren’t you funny, Theo?” Arthur tried to get his attention back. “We should go out for drinks again soon.”

“Haven’t we gone out enough this week? Although that was just you tagging along in my free time.”

“I mean a normal guys’ night, like we used to have. You have been sulking this whole week.”

Had he really been that bad? Theo noticed he’d been going out for drinks more often, independently of Arthur going along or not, but he wasn’t drinking more than usual on these trips, and had been working as usual. Theo knew he hadn’t been feeling all that great, rethinking your fight, what he could have done and where could you have gone, but he thought he’d been hiding it well.

“Anyway, happy birthday!” Arthur patted his back.

“I would offer you a drink, but it seems like you have something else in mind.”

Arthur winked before walking away, only to be replaced by Comte, who had left your side already. And while Arthur let him pass on the drink, Comte brought him one, pulling him around to call a toast to him.

In the meantime, Theo watched Arthur discretely approach you, and strike a conversation right after the toast and immediately made his way over.

“Would you give me the honor of one dance, to celebrate our reunion?” Theo heard Arthur ask as he approached.

By the awkward smile you gave him, you had no intention of accepting, but was too polite to tell him to fuck off. So Theo crossed the rest of the way and wrapped an arm around your waist, making you jump. But as you realized it was him, you relaxed.

“Go play with your dog and get your hands off mine, Arthur.”

“Yours, Old Chap? I thought she was up for adoption after you were so intent on kicking her out?”

“Do you really think I will take a lecture from someone who can’t be serious about a relationship to save his life? Or at least what little is left of his dignity?” Theo turned away from Arthur, unable to stand the way his friend smiled at him and the way he looked at you. “Hier, Hondje.” He called for you as he walked towards the door.

Although Arthur was right. He shouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t listen.

He walked into the hallway outside, and didn’t go far before you rushed out after him.

As the door closed behind you, he could still hear Arthur on the other side.

“Don’t mind us. Go ahead and have fun.”

Of course he knew what he was doing, and Theo felt even worse that he had fallen for it. There was no doubt Arthur approached each of you when he did on purpose.

Theo didn’t dare look back at you after that, as he made his way to a nearby balcony, only conscious of your footsteps following him.

“You didn’t need to talk like that in front of everyone.” You complained as soon as the two of you found yourselves alone.

Theo dared a side glance at you, to find you quite flustered, but it looked more like it was of embarrassment than anger, despite how you sounded.

Of course the fact you actually listened to him, to complain only in private, didn’t help your case either.

“You came, didn’t you? Like the good puppy you are.” Theo reached out to pat your head, but stopped halfway.

He couldn’t just pretend everything would be back to normal before he at least apologized.

“But,” and he couldn’t believe he was ever considering it, “Arthur is right. I have no right to claim you when I was the one who pushed you away. Again. You deserve someone who will take proper care of you.”

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have made such a careless joke. Neither refused to tell you when the reason I went away had nothing to do with our fight.”

Theo sighed.

“Yes. You shouldn’t have made such a stupid joke. But I shouldn’t have yelled either.” This time he did touch your face. “I messed up.” He moved his hand to the back of your head, nudging you closer. “I thought about everything we had, and everything we could have. Everything I would be giving up if I let you go. And I realized losing you would be a bigger sacrifice than any other decision I could take.”

“That’s how I feel too. I know you want to protect me, but don’t push me away to do so.” You rested a hand over his chest. “You’re not going to lose me because I decided to stay.”

Stay. You were so prepared to, not only sacrifice everything but also risk your life to stay with him. But that only strengthened his resolve to follow up with what he decided while you were away.

“I still can’t protect you from getting sick, but I realized I could go back with you, instead. Keep you safe, and keep you close.”

“Would you really leave Vincent, to live with me in the future?”

That was the hard part, but the more he thought about it, the more he was certain that was the best decision. Unless there was a way he didn’t have to choose.

It was funny how you stared at him with such disbelief, but he had to admit it was surprising even for him when he first thought of it. But that disbelief from you quickly gave way to radiant smile as tears pooled at the corner of your eyes, and you tightened your hold on his clothes.

“If that is his decision.” Theo explained, whipping away your tears. “I have been chasing him for so long, but I realized it is time we live our own lives, and if we have to do so far away from each other… But I would like to ask him to come with us. All you told me about art in your time, it would be easier to share his work and with many more people. He could live somewhere nearby, and we would still have our privacy. But I haven’t asked him yet. And this party today… I had such a bad feeling he didn’t plan it just for my birthday, but also as a farewell party.”

“Really? Because I thought he planned the party as a means to distract the others and get us time to talk.” You laughed, then shook your head, lowering your gaze for a moment, before looking up at him again. “But as happy as you making such decisions on my behalf makes me, I think we shouldn’t make it final yet. You bring such good to this world, Theo. Your work is harder here, but it’s also more necessary. The artists of this time are lucky to have you helping them, and I can tell this makes you happy. I don’t want to stop doing that because of me. Can’t we think a little more about it before we really decide?”

You were thinking of other people, even now. Although it was true, it made him happy to help talented artists thrive, and it was harder for them to do so in this period. But he didn’t intend to let you sacrifice everything you built for him. Now just wasn’t the best time to convince you, not with how he felt.

“Fine. We can discuss this later."

Pulling you closer, Theo finally kissed you. He had missed being able to do so. Your warmth, your taste… It felt like years since he last had any of it.

“Happy birthday, Theo.” You whispered when he let you go, your face quite flushed. “Shouldn’t we save this for later and get back to the party?”

“No. I don’t plan to let you go back there tonight. Everyone is so eager for your attention.”

“They’re just glad I’m back. And Arthur also teasing you a little. But they’re all there to celebrate your birthday. I will stay close, if you want to return.”

“By now they should know all I want for my birthday is to enjoy my best gift ever. You.” He kissed you again. “I don’t know how you did it, but I can’t live without you. I can’t stop thinking about you.” Not when you weren't there and his thoughts were filled with longing, neither when you were by his side, and he was now filed with love and sometimes this burning desire for more than just your presence.

Before you could protest, he captured your lips again, in a deeper kiss, happy that you didn’t even try to resist. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck, as his other hand encircled your waist, mostly supporting you as you had to stand on your tiptoes to be at a proper height for him to kiss.

Theo nipped at your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth, letting him in. He tried to pull you even closer and deepen the kiss mire, even when you were practically pressed to him already. Desire burned within him, from his throat as the bloodlust intensified, to… lower regions. Everything in him clamored for more of you. Every kiss was almost immediately followed by another, barely giving either of you time to breathe.

He only released you when your body nearly collapsed in his arms, both of you panting, his own head dizzy, but Theo picking you up.

“Was it too much already, Hondje?” You shook your head weakly, and he smirked. “Good. Because I’m just starting with you. It’s my birthday and I will enjoy my gift. Thoroughly.”

Tag List: @yarnnerdally, @tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles, @bicayaya, @2-lines-and-a-circle, @vampiricpancake, @eventinelysplayground, @specters0rd

If you want to be tagged/untagged on future writings, even if it's in specific contents, you can reply to this post or send me a message

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

[chaifootsteps]

idk if anyone's done a fic like this but I always wanted to read one where Stella and Blitzo meet

like at first Stella is furious to see him but maybe (assuming this is set in a time period when she's still in the house) she ends up overhearing how Stolas treats him or how unhappy Blitzo seems around him

and at first she's happy that Stolas' affair partner isn't having a good time, but when Striker mentions Blitzo was the one getting in the way of Striker killing Stolas, she's dismissive like of course Stolas' toy would protect him, but then Striker gets this... look. It sticks with her and when she's around the house she finds herself noticing the servants as people for the first time, too. How they have a look around Stolas sometimes, too

and the way Striker behaved nettles her so much she bugs him until he spills that he nearly talked Blitzo into helping him kill Stolas, because Stolas is lending out the book to get sex out of Blitzo

Stella is incensed. Not only is her husband gambling her daughter's inheritance and their precious grimoire but he's also extorting sex from someone. She's still not totally free of all her classist habits but she knows from her own stomach-turning memories what it's like having no safety around her own body. And when she and Stolas were trying to conceive they were mutually trying to please their own families, but it doesn't sound like the imp has a choice. And if the way Stolas talks to him is any indication he expects the imp to actively participate in this forced sexual activity, too

Stella's unsure what to do since this is way too messed up to risk Octavia finding out about, but at the least she has to secure the grimoire. And maybe when she goes over to see Stolas she ends up running into Blitzo - maybe out on the streets drunk or injured from work. It's the full moon and he's miserablely self-destructing in an attempt to get out of it. Maybe he ends up right in front of Stella and at the exact moment she has the opportunity to snap his neck for all the misery he brought the family - she doesn't

She gets the butler to bring him in so she can talk to him. Striker's there and tensions are high until she says she knows about the deal.

And she's the first one to tell Blitzo she thinks what Stolas is doing is wrong.

He's never heard it from anyone else and it stops him cold.

Striker promises Blitzo he won't touch his employees, but he asks if putting up with Stolas forever is what he really wants. Stella goes even further - if he joins Striker on the next hit she'll find a way to get him to the living world, maybe just buy an Asmodean crystal using Stolas' connections and money.

Blitzo realizes Stolas knew another way he could do the job the whole time and the disassociative shell he's formed around himself cracks and suddenly he's livid.

This time when he says he's in, he really means it.

I never get tired of these AUs, and want every last one of them to be canon. If you make a full fic out of this, Anon, by all means send it in!

[glade-constellation]

TSAMS Ships I Like and Why

These are just my personal views about TSAMS ships that I like, and why I like them. I would like to preface that I don’t think any of these will be canon, I just personally like the ship dynamics. Also, they are in no particular order.

(List under cut)

1.) Monty/Earth/Eclipse

Vee-polyamory. Earth would be the hinge, and Earth and Eclipse have a queerplatonic relationship. It is a very big comfort ship for me. I do feel like Monty and Eclipse could be friend if they got over their issues, with each other and themselves. Their dynamic is basically the scary dog privileges trend. It may never be canon, but it’s currently my favorite.

2.) Lunar/Gemini

Honestly, I do genuinely think it could work out. Everything went wrong in canon around the time they died to get together, but this is fanon so I say it works. Another vee poly style relationship with Lunar as the hinge. It been shown a decent amount that Lunar does work well with both Castor and Pollux, and they all have similar vibes. Lunar is able to calm down and just talk with Castor about things, and can also match Pollux’s really high energy. They may have a rough time communicating with each other, but I think if they worked on that it would be a really cute relationship.

3.) Solar/Ruin

Yes, this is a tragic romance, but that is literally the whole reason I like it. Listen, these two are both sassy mfers, and would just play off each other really well. They’re the kind of couple to engage in parallel play all the time just because they like being near one another. They also just have a lot in common about coming from a dying world and being pretty hated by everyone in their respective dimensions. Ruin knowing what he was doing was going to end up killing Solar is devastating. It’s an interesting couple in the fact that is a doomed romance from the start, and Ruin knows that.

4.) Sun/Foxy

Someone I follow mentioned KidsCove as being a queerplatonic relationships and it’s changed my whole perspective on this ship. Yes. 100%. I love the idea of this. I think the whole reason Kids isn’t canonical (in universe) is that the characters seems to have a very specific views on what relationships are and how they’re supposed to look. I think if someone explained to them that you don’t have to be restricted to those things, they might be more open to the idea. Plus, like, Sun does a pretty good job handling FC, and I feel like Foxy would enjoy having someone around who can help and doesn’t complain about his child being too much. (Sadly, TSAMS has made it pretty clear that, canonically, Sun and Foxy both seem to be straight.)

5.) Canon/OC or Self Insert

Any sort of OC or Self Shipping is great, I love seeing that content. As long as it’s not Moon or the children characters, we’re chill. I myself have an Eclipse/Self Insert AU and have been low key cooking up something for a Sun/OC. Do whatever, cringe culture is dead.

[eisthenameofme]

Reading the Sabbat: The Black Hand v5 book, and it is apparently impossible for me not to see the Sabbat through a Queering Vampirism lense with some of the ways they're describing it. It's very obviously not what they're Trying to do, but that's the impression I'm getting anyway.

Like they start by saying the Purpose of the Sabbat is fundamentally to challenge the status quo, right before calling them fundamentally evil/monstrous antagonists and right after describing how scared all the other kindred are of them and how inscrutible they find their motivations. And then they go right into talking about the philosophy of embracing the Beast and fundamentally Cainite traits and inhumanity/monstrosity (what they are and what seperates them from the rest of society, the Other, which in this reading is also Queerness), to the horror of everyone else, and it's considered fundamentally an aspect of self destruction (see: how people act about trans surgeries). Also, treating something otherwise extremely taboo (ex. diablerie) as a "sacrament", like treating what is normally taboo/reviled as divine isn't also incredibly queer. Also alienation from society and difficulty forming connections.

You couldn't create a queer allegory more like catnip to me if you tried, is what I'm saying

[airbenderedacted]

IF I WERE WOY CREW I WOULD ALSO FIGHT FOR THE IMPORTANCE OF HAVING THE LESBIAN FLAG SOMEWHERE ON OR NEAR DOMINATOR IN JUST ONE WHOLE SCENE IN THE SHOW  SEND TWEET

[youareinacomawakeup]

I don’t care what you fuckers say. Good Omens 2 was the best thing I’ve seen in years and there needs to be a season 3.

[caparrucia]

Full offense and pun fully intended, but I genuinely think the very existence of "dead dove, do not eat" was a fucking canary in the mines, and no one really paid attention.

Because the tag itself was created as a response to a fandom-wide tendency to disregard warnings and assume tagging was exaggerated. And then the same fucking idiots reading those tags describing things they found upsetting or disturbing or just not to their taste would STILL click into the stories and give the writer's grief about it.

And as a response writers began using the tag to signal "no, really, I MEAN the tags!"

But like.

If you really think about it, that's a solution to a different problem. The solution to "I know you tagged your story appropriately but I chose to disregard the tags and warnings by reading it anyway, even though I knew it would upset me, so now I'm upset and making it your problem" is frankly a block, a ban and wide-spread blacklisting. But fandom as a whole is fucking awful at handling bad faith, insidious arguments that appeal to community inclusion and weaponize the fact most people participating in fandom want to share the space with others, as opposed to hurting people.

So instead of upfront ridiculing this kind of maladaptive attempt to foster one's own emotional self-regulation onto random strangers on the internet, fandom compromised and came up with a redundant tag in a good faith attempt to address an imaginary nuance.

There is no nuance to this.

A writer's job is to tag their work correctly. It's not to tag it exhaustively. It's not even to tag it extensively. A writer's sole obligation, as far as AO3 and arguably fandom spaces are concerned, is to make damn sure that the tags they put on their story actually match whatever is going on in that story.

That's it.

That's all.

"But what if I don't want to read X?" Well, you don't read fic that's tagged X.

"But what if I read something that wasn't tagged X?" Well, that's very unfortunate for you, but if it is genuinely that upsetting, you have a responsibility to yourself to only browse things explicitly tagged to not include X.

"But that's not a lot of fic!" Hi, you must be new here, yes, welcome to fandom. Most of our spaces are built explicitly as a reaction to There's Not Enough Of The Thing I Want, both in canon and fandom.

"But there are things on the internet that I don't like!" Yeah, and they are also out there, offline. And, here's the thing, things existing even though we personally dislike or even hate or even flat out find offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable existing is the price we pay to secure our right to exist as individuals and creators, regardless of who finds US personally unpleasant, hateful or flat out offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable.

"But what about [illegal thing]?!" So the thing itself is illegal, because the thing itself has been deemed harmful. But your goddamn cop-poisoned authoritarian little heart needs to learn that sometimes things are illegal that aren't harmful, and defaulting to "but illegal!" is a surefire way to end up on the wrong side of the fascism pop quiz. You're not a figure of authority and the more you demand to control and exercise authority by command, rather than leadership, the less impressive you seem. You know how you make actual, genuine change in a community? You center harm and argue in good faith to find accommodations and spread awareness of real, actual problems.

But let's play your game. Let's pretend we're all brainwashed cop-abiding little cogs that do not own a single working brain cell to exercise critical thinking with. 99% of the time, when you cry about any given thing "being illegal!!!" you're correct only so far as the THING itself being illegal. The act or object is illegal. Depiction of it is not. You know why, dipshit? Because if depiction of the thing were illegal, you wouldn't be able to talk about it. You wouldn't be able to educate about it. You wouldn't be able to reexamine and discuss and understand the thing, how and why and where it happens and how to prevent it. And yeah, depiction being legal opens the door for people to make depictions that are in bad taste or probably not appropriate. Sure. But that's the price we pay, creating tools to demystify some of the most horrific things in the world and support the people who've survived them. The net good of those tools existing outweighs the harm of people misusing them.

"You're defending the indefensible!" No, you're clumsily stumbling into a conversation that's been going on for centuries, with your elementary school understanding of morality and your bone-deep police state rot filtering your perception of reality, and insisting you figured it out and everyone else at the table is an idiot for not agreeing with you. Shut the fuck up, sit the fuck down and read a goddamn book.

[batfamluvr]

Bat-Boys in Bed

I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me

Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.

He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.

I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.

Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.

Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”

I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.

He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.

Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.

He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.

I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.

Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.

Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.

I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).

This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.

Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.

You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.

Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.

Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.

Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.

I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.

That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.

Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!

Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.

[boydepartment]

nishimura riki - boyfriend headcanons °‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

gn reader- 10 headcanons - masterlist :)

⋆˙⟡ if you work at a job where you use your hands a lot and end up getting cuts or slivers on your nail beds when you both are alone he will kiss the cuts and small damages on your fingers. you don’t have to always have your nails done or things like that bc he genuinely doesn’t care

⋆˙⟡ if you do have your nails done or like to get them done he likes to be able to customize one nail himself. he thinks it’s fun

⋆˙⟡ the on melancholy hill gorillaz trend - you and him are BODYING…. can you imagine riki’s cute little eyebrow quirks and pouting while the camera pans to him. i’ve been thinking abt this one for a few days- same w the kisses on the fingers

⋆˙⟡ if you leave early in the mornings for whatever reason he will wake up till you leave. even if he has to day off or can sleep in, if you leave early he will get up just so he can say goodbye to you

⋆˙⟡ riki loves dancing, obviously, but sometimes he just wants to be goofy and dance without thinking. so little dance parties where you both are uncoordinated are very common.

⋆˙⟡ when traveling if you can’t go, he will bring you stuff home. like a simpsons plush or whatever you wanted from universal studios when he went

⋆˙⟡ if you do go, he’s definitely giving you those staff uniforms and concealing you. he thinks it’s funny (if you have long hair) to tuck all your hair in the hybe hats and have you record vlogs. (he pays you under the table in kisses for helping)

⋆˙⟡ if you get hurt, whether you’re younger or older than him, he likes to take care of you. everyone is always taking care of him and sometimes he feels guilty about that, so he goes the extra mile to take care of you.

⋆˙⟡ matching clothes, he loves it. he loves to match and take photos. especially candid photos of you. even if they come off goofy, to him it’s the memory of the moment not the contents of the photo.

⋆˙⟡ genuinely a really good boyfriend and tries his best to make time for you. he can get snappy sometimes and tired but he doesn’t outwardly take it out on you unapologetically. he makes sure to be there and present and kind.

⟡ one extra head canon- he prefers you calling him riki over his stage name bc it’s more sentimental to him (real quote 💪 i pinky promise i have the video)

[reidmotif]

Coffee and Consequences

Summary: Reader joins the BAU, and Spencer seems insistent on being a problem for her.

Request: pls i am such a sucker for angst/smut, can you do one where spencer is closed off and cold to a new recruit, and it upsets her, so she tries to get him to like her, which leads to an argument and confession, with soft smut?

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut/Light Angst (Happy Ending)

Content Warning: Reader POV, little shit Spencer, oral sex (f recieveing), gunshot wound/typical canon violence, unprotected sex

Word Count: 6.1k

Upon starting at the BAU, I believed there was no question about me, especially when it came to my skills and ability to perform my job. From stellar recommendations from my superiors at the Academy, to general demeanor and tact, there was no question about whether or not my success was imminent. Most of the team were more than elated to welcome me to the small family they’d built over the years, despite my younger age than most of them, which I was eternally grateful for. 

Most, being the keyword in that sentence. Since I’d begun, there’d been one thorn in my roses, the bane of my existence, you might say. Spencer fucking Reid. I’m aware of the fact that not everyone could like me, that was a given. I'm an FBI agent, for god’s sake. To expect warmth and friendship from everyone would be naive and lead to disappointment in any given scenario. 

But Jesus Christ, this was getting absolutely ridiculous. 

I consistently replayed the events of our first meeting. In an attempt to make a good first impression, (which seems stupid, in hindsight) I brought coffee to each of my new co-workers, hoping to establish myself as a friendly, non-threatening presence in their lives. I’d covertly asked Emily for help, as within the interviews and background checks required to even be considered for a position in the BAU, there was a certain camaraderie and friendship forged through the continued exposure to each other. 

Emily advised me carefully, understanding the intentions behind the act, and being more than happy to help.  “JJ likes vanilla lattes, nothing too fancy. Rossi is a little simpler, a Caffe Americano.” I spoke, and continued to go through my team’s regular orders, until there was hesitation on a somewhat infamous name, one that I myself was already intrigued by. “Spencer’s an easy order to remember, but you have to make sure you get it right.” 

I found myself nodding, the seriousness of Emily’s words striking me- momentarily finding myself forgetting that they were speaking about something as mundane as coffee. "Emily spoke slowly, as if I was advising a child. 'Reid likes black coffee, but you have to make sure to add extra sugar.'" I nodded quickly, "Alright, black coffee with extra sugar, got it-" Emily interrupted me abruptly. "No, no. You're not hearing me, extra sugar. I mean a lot, okay? Otherwise, he quite literally won't drink it."

I found myself chuckling a little bit, thinking about the image of Spencer Reid I’d built up in my head before I’d even met him. I knew he had been framed and had endured a considerable time in prison. I was also aware of his intelligence, a natural by-product of all the papers he’d written, and how many of his own techniques in geographic profiling were referenced during my time in the Academy. Working with him seemed like a dream come true. The idea of a grown man needing as much sugar in his coffee as Emily made it seem added just a bit of charm to the already positive perception I’d had of him. 

In the coffee shop, I carefully recited the orders of my new teammates, taking extra caution in advising the barista that the black coffee needed extra sugar. I could tell the patrons behind me were definitely annoyed, but it didn’t matter. First impressions matter more. Even after my incessant requests about sugar, I took the time to open the lid of the steaming black coffee to add in 3 extra packets of brown sugar provided at the customization station in the back of the coffee shop. I could tell the barista was boring holes into the back of my head, and I honestly wasn’t surprised or could blame her. At this point, the sugar had to be more than the coffee itself. I gave a satisfied grin to myself, knowing I’d followed Emily’s directions and the possibility of friendship with someone I’d already come to admire wasn’t something far-off to wish for. 

God, was I wrong. 

I approached the bullpen cautiously, being greeted by an assortment of new faces. I quickly matched names to descriptors that had been given to me from Emily. I then noticed one face that hadn’t greeted me yet, sat alone in the back with his nose in a book. I couldn’t discern the title, which I quickly figured was due to the fact that the book appeared to be some European language I’d most likely never even heard of. The man had a mess of brown hair on his head, and even from across the room I could tell it was curling softly near the nape of his neck. He was handsome. More handsome than I had pegged him for. I knew almost immediately that this had to have been the infamous Spencer Reid, and I cautiously approached him, flashing a small smile. 

He heard me a mile away, looking up quickly and putting away his book. His eyes seemed to size me up, and he didn’t seem to return my smile. I knew better than to shake hands with him, being predisposed to his germaphobe nature and instead held out the coffee, almost as if it was a peace offering. 

“Hi, uh. I’m the new recruit, I believe Emily warned you all about me and I just wanted to introduce myself. (Y/N). That’s my name. It’s nice to meet you.” I said, a little dumbly, still holding the coffee out. I quickly realized I hadn’t explained the reasoning behind the coffee cup and quickly added, “Coffee. I asked Emily about how you liked it. And brought it. So, yeah.” I said. I was aware of how awkward this conversation was becoming, considering I was still holding out the cup, like an idiot, and he hadn’t said a word to me yet. He nodded, taking the coffee cup from me and placing it on his desk. “Dr Reid. Welcome.” His greeting was short, but I tried not to let it bother me. Perhaps he wasn’t as forthcoming to strangers, nevermind that. The coffee was enough. I smiled, again, hoping to make my intentions clear. “Nice to meet you, Dr Reid.” 

I turned back, feeling satisfied. I’d done what I’d come there to do. Except a sound from behind me alerted me that maybe I was a bit early to assume that, because when I’d turned around, an incredibly displeased Dr Reid was throwing away his coffee- the coffee I had brought! That I’d waited for in a morning rush for, that I’d taken the time to add even more sugar to- that coffee! In the trash! His eyes met mine as he dropped it into the trashcan near his desk, shuddering a bit as he did so. He didn’t even look apologetic. 

I approached him, a bit upset and sad, but there was caution in my tone, not wanting to offend him before he even had a chance to know me. “Dr Reid, I’m sorry was the coffee-” Dr Reid quickly interrupted me. “Did Emily not tell you my order?” He asked, a little bit of sharpness to his tone. 

Okay, so this guy took his coffee seriously. Emily was not kidding around. 

“Um, yes-” He interrupted again. “Yes? Are you sure?” He said, a bit of condescension in his tone. Okay, holy shit. All this over coffee? “Very sure.” I responded, confidently. “Black, with extra sugar- I even put extra at the counter.” I added this, trying to convey that while I was sorry it wasn’t to his liking, it’s not like I didn’t try. That had to count for something, right? 

Wrong. Spencer Reid did not seem like the type of man who cared about trying. He retorted with, “Well, it wasn’t enough.” And with that, he shuffled to the breakroom, seemingly to make his own coffee. 

It seemed like from there, things only got worse. In one of my first cases, I quickly made a quip about the statistics on suburban murders, hoping to add some valuable information to the conversation. I tried hard not to overpower anyone and stay in my lane as the resident newbie, but Spencer seemed to take personal offense to it, going out of his way to argue that it meant nothing. I fired back, hoping to affront my point but Reid quickly cut me off.

 “You’re new, alright? And young. It’s granted that you should be clueless when it comes to some of these things.” His words, although somewhat true, were accompanied by a harsh tone and a coldness in his voice. What could’ve been well-meaning advice from a senior agent on the team was clearly not that at all. All signs pointed to one thing: He absolutely hated me. 

For all I tried, it seemed like he only disliked me more. It wasn’t unnoticed by my teammates, how he’d dismiss me. I was aware of my newness, of my inexperience, how this team had had years to grow around each other before I was ever even considered for this position, but it seemed with the more time I spent at the BAU, Spencer’s disdain only increased. He seemed to go out of his way to not sit by me on the jet, or how he seemed absolutely uninterested in anything involving me. I understood that not everyone would like me, but a bit of respect would be nice. I didn’t need friendship, just his tolerance, and even that seemed out of reach for Dr Spencer Reid. 

Eventually, this led to the dynamic  we harbored now. A year into the BAU, and instead of a friendship, or even acquaintanceship, it was constant bickering. It’s not like I wanted to argue- he just made it impossible for me to find footing within the BAU. I obviously stood up for myself, but was met with resistance from the doctor, and so the cycle continued. 

Still, despite the obvious dislike Reid harbored for me, it wasn’t like that magically made him dumb, or any less attractive to me. His intelligence was as impressive as I’d expected it to be, if not even moreso. I watched in real-time as the cogs in his mind turned, his slender fingers finding a point on the side of his mouth to tap, before stopping and sharing what he’d just thought of. He was brilliant, and no one could take that away from him

 However, in this particular case we were currently dealing with, it seemed that brilliance simply didn’t matter, because how could someone like him be so absolutely stupid? 

The hostage situation we were dealing with was tricky, to say the least. Multiple civilians, and a trigger happy unsub. Any experienced agent would be at a loss when handling something like this, but Spencer seemed confident. He’d been pushing to storm the building, citing that more people would get hurt the longer they allowed the unsub to continue making demands. I found myself  wholeheartedly disagreeing, attempting to put my foot down and be heard. I found that perhaps, through negotiations, we could not only save the civilians, but walk away with zero people hurt. Naturally, this caused commotion between the senior agent and myself. 

“Reid, I’ve told you for the millionth time that this unsub can’t be approached like this!” I whisper-yelled, clearly fed up with Spencer by this point. He questioned every decision of mine, and it's gotten to me. 

“(Y/N), you’ve dealt with maybe 3 hostage situations in your life. This isn’t something for you to take point on. We have civilians in there, and it’s more important we save them.” He responded, in his own hiss. 

“You’re being ridiculous!” I retorted. 

“You’re naive!” He shot back. 

We’d clearly reached a head when it came to this. Spencer huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m using my seniority here. We’re going to give the go-ahead to SWAT and make our way into the building.” 

I found myself returning the gesture. “Spencer- '' I began, only to be interrupted.

 “Dr Reid.” He corrected, venom in his voice. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I replied, furrowing my brows. 

“What?” He countered, seeming calm, but his eyes gave away simply how determined he was to win this. 

“This is a terrible idea.” I said, firmly. “Someone’s going to get hurt.” 

“Oh, and how do you know that?” Spencer quipped. “Is it your years of experience in the field? Or your time spent as an FBI agent?” He said, sarcastically. 

“I understand I don’t have as much experience as you, but-” I started, but I found myself cut off by him again. Bastard. He never let me finish my sentences. “Exactly.” He responded, calmly. “You don’t have as much experience. I know what I’m doing. Let’s go.” And with that, he walked, leaving me to simply follow. God, I fucking hated that guy. Forget the intelligence, none of that mattered when he was such a dick. 

As they entered the warehouse doors behind SWAT, I  knew that it was wrong. Something was off. We’d profiled this unsub as the dominant type, and an egotistical personality that wouldn’t allow for a partner. It was a part of the profile that they were sure of. It was part of the reason why Spencer was so confident of going in. 

Upon entering though, the SWAT team had a clear shot of the unsub, but in a split second, there were shots heard from an entirely different part of the warehouse. From the direction in which Spencer was directly in line of. 

It wasn’t like I thought about it, maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have done it. It was based on pure instinct. I found myself in front of Spencer Reid, the man who’d questioned my every decision since I’d begun my job, taking a bullet for him. Maybe he was right, maybe I was an idiot. 

I heard the gunshot first, then felt the cold floor pressing into my cheek where I’d been knocked down. Then a tight pressure in my arm. I finally looked down, seeing a bloom of red appear under my dress shirt where a bullet had struck, away from the vest I wore to prevent this sort of thing. I took in a sharp breath of air, eyes widening as my breathing began to quicken. I rolled onto my back, only to be met with Spencer’s concerned and frightened expression above me. I heard ins and outs of his speech into his receiver, as I faded in and out of consciousness. 

“Yes! We have an agent down. We need medic, now!” He yelled. I watched him in fascination, his face currently seeming to be the only thing I could focus on besides the overwhelming burning that I felt. I heard him speak to me, calmly. “Y/N? Stay with me, okay? You need to stay conscious. Okay?” He spoke to me calmly, but the waver in his voice was unmistakable. I found my eyelids growing heavier as I nodded. 

It wasn’t long until I came to, groggily opening my eyes to see Spencer’s concerned face looking back at me. I heard his voice, soft and distant. 

“(Y/N)..?” Spencer said, cautiously. 

“Dr Reid?” was my response. I was still a bit dizzy, and a bit confused about my whereabouts. 

“You were shot.” He replied, immediately. “In your arm.” He added, as if that wasn’t already obvious. 

I found myself chuckling, “Yeah, I can tell.” I said, my eyes meeting his. His expression was a bit unreadable, a mix between sternness and apprehension. I watched him, as his gaze shifted and he bit his lip. “You took it for me.” He said, suddenly. “The bullet, I mean.” He continued. “It would’ve hit me if you hadn’t gotten in the way.” 

“Gotten in the way?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Gotten in the way.” He repeated back to me, his face hard. 

“Are you upset I took a bullet for you?” I said, furrowing my brows, my lips parting in shock. Was this guy serious? 

“Yes.” He said, his voice angry. “What were you thinking?” His voice wavered with anger and another emotion I couldn’t quite discern in that moment. 

“I wasn’t thinking, I just-” 

“Exactly.” He responded, harshly. “You weren’t thinking.” He said, his voice reaching a volume I’d never heard before, granted, it was still collected, but I’d never seen this side of him. 

I contemplated how to respond to this, actually not being able to believe that he could be mad at me for something like this. Yes, it was brash but- he didn’t get shot! Isn’t that a plus? His voice broke my thoughts, now a bit more shaky, softer. “Do you have any idea what that would mean? If you’d been hurt worse, what that would mean for me?” He said, looking right at my face, into my eyes with a blaze. “What you mean to me?” 

I found myself unable to respond, still not being able to grapple with what he was saying. What he was implying. “Sorry?” I asked, softly. 

“(Y/N)..” He said, softly. His own expression mirrored my confusion mixed with longing I’d never seen before on him. Especially when he looked at me. His hand brushed across my face, moving some hair that had drifted near my eye. I held my breath as he did so, watching as his tongue slipped out to wet his bottom lip, still watching intently. I felt my lips slightly part as he came closer, unsure what was going to happen in this moment, but regardless, my gaze was intently trained on his. 

In a split second though, the sounds of the rest of the BAU filtered into the hospital room. They jumped away from each other, Spencer now 4 feet away from me. Emily came up to my bedside, looking at the wound. 

The typical chastisement came, and the general choruses of appreciation that I was still alive. The diagnosis revealed that (Y/N) would be just fine, given I remembered to clean my wound liberally and change the bandages.

In about a week, I found myself discharged. I was given about 2 more weeks to rest at my apartment. I assumed the time would be enough to forget the strange moment I’d had in the hospital room. At some points, if I tried hard enough, I could convince myself it hadn’t happened at all. The tenderness in his eyes, the way his gaze drifted to my lips, so subtle it could’ve as easily been a figment of imagination. I shook my head, as if I could rid myself of all the feelings I’d harbored about that specific moment. I made my way to the kitchen, grabbing a fresh-set of bandages to apply on the recovering wound, wincing as I peeled away the layers of gauze to reveal the injury. As I began to apply the anti-septic, I began to wrap the gauze, until I heard a knock at my apartment door. 

I put down the gauze, looking through the peephole and being surprised to see the senior agent that had been haunting my thoughts for the past few weeks. I opened the door quickly, meeting his pensive gaze. 

“Can I come in?” He said, quickly, almost if he didn’t say the words fast enough, he’d bolt the other direction. I sensed the confusion about his own actions, and opened the door wider, allowing him to push past me into my apartment. He noticed the gauze, and the open wound, and raised an eyebrow. 

“I was changing the gauze, sorry.” I said, explaining the sight on my kitchen table. He immediately took a step towards the table, picking up the bandages. “Let me help.” He said, quietly, motioning for me to sit down. 

I found myself sitting, out of pure habit of obeying him, but still shook my head. 

 “Dr Reid, no, it’s fine.” He quickly shook his head, mirroring my previous actions,  already beginning to take my arm, his light touches on my bare skin shooting a shiver up my spine. This was noticeable to him, him immediately retracting his hand. 

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” He asked, softly. 

I found myself shaking my head. “No, no. Sorry. Just. Continue.” I said, trying to get the words out without looking at him. I suddenly remembered the strangeness of this situation, and forced myself to calm down as he began to carefully wrap the bandages around my injury, swallowing and looking up. 

“Dr Reid, why are you here?” I asked, carefully. I made sure that my tone was neutral, not trying to express displeasement, but still a bit confused about his intentions here. 

“You took a bullet for me.” He replied, simply, as if that explained why he was in my apartment, looming over me as he tenderly wrapped gauze over my arm, looking at me with the gentlest gaze I’d ever seen on him. I sighed, locking eyes with him. “I know, but-” He interrupted. “No, (Y/N), you don’t know.” 

Immediately, the rage returned to my eyes, the months of dismissal I’d faced from him flooding back in a moment, and those emotions came to full light in that moment. my brows furrowed, my face turning sour. “Oh, I don’t know, Spencer?” I said, sneering at him. “Am I too young, too stupid, too inexperienced for you?” I question, sarcastically. “Am I so dumb, that I wasn’t aware of what I was doing when I stepped in front of you?!” I say, my voice practically yelling at him now. 

“Yes.” He whispered, dangerously close. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Yes. You weren’t aware.” He says, repeats, softer this time. “It’s the only way any of this makes sense. That.. that you were so unaware, so blinded that you weren’t thinking when you stepped in front of me.” He said, quietly, remaining just as close as before. 

“I wasn’t.” I said, firmly, my brows still furrowed but the tension slowly left my face, being replaced with a softness. 

“Why did you do it then?” He said, dropping his gaze as he began to focus more on the bandages. “I haven’t been very forthcoming with you since you’ve begun your time at the BAU.” 

“Ah, so you’ve noticed.” I said, trying to make humor of the situation, but it came out a bit more breathless and dry. I was aware of the intimacy of the situation, and it seemed my body was catching up. I could physically feel the way my cheeks were heating up, and how they were close enough that I could see every breath that exhaled from his lips. How, despite everything, I still desperately wanted to kiss him at that moment. 

I couldn’t be crazy, when he secured the bandages and slowly trailed his eyes over my figure, sitting in front of him. I saw the same desire I felt, reflected in his eyes, and I found myself biting my lip. What the fuck was going on?

“So why’d you do it?” He repeated, still looking at me. 

“It felt natural, I..” I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain what I had felt in that split-second, but instead went with the simplest retelling my brain could manage, considering how close he was. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” I said, looking at him. “I.. I care about you.” 

I felt stupidly vulnerable. His breath fanned over my face, and I bit my lip. I waited for him to say something, anything, staring anxiously at his face. 

“I’m a good profiler, you know.” He says, softly. 

I  chuckle a little at this, moving away so the tension can be relieved. “Trust me, I’m reminded of that every day.” I said, feeling like the distance between them was now more manageable, allowing me to talk.

But in a moment, he closed that distance to its predecessor, just as close as they were a moment ago. “You learn a lot about body language. Not just by learning to profile, but through years of experience. It just comes naturally, reading people. You can’t really turn it off. It’s like trying to forget how to breathe.” I hung onto his every word, and found my breath hitching when he directed his monologue to me. 

He gently inquires, “Do you understand?” 

I nod, looking up at him, as he inches closer. 

“So I hope you’ll understand and not take offense when I say I’ve been profiling you.” He pauses.  “Would you like to know what I’ve found out?” He says, looking right into my eyes at this point. 

My brain is screaming at me to say no, to not take the bait that he was dangling right in front of me, and to not cross that line tonight. Because, surely, that’s where this was going. I had a sneaking suspicion that the man in front of me was going to ruin me, if I let him. 

Instead, I ignore the instinct and intuition I normally rely on, and nod. “What did you find out, Dr Reid?” I responded, a bit shakier than I wanted to sound. 

“Your pupils dilate when I come near you. It’s an involuntary response, but I notice it every time. I’ve seen it in low and heavy lighting, the only commonality in both those situations being that we were in some proximity to each other.” His voice was low, and seductive, something I’d never heard from him before. 

“Your heart rate.” He murmurs, slowly picking up my wrist and pressing a thumb to the pulse point. “This isn’t exactly the best way to measure heart rate.” He explains, “My thumb. It carries its own pulse that can make it hard to distinguish between mine and yours. But right now, (Y/N)?” He mumbles. “I can tell. Because your pulse is going crazy right now. It’d be hard to miss.”  He said, with a low chuckle.

And he’s right, I can feel my heart getting faster with every second he speaks to me, in that hushed tone that seems to be driving me crazy. 

“It’s not just tonight. I’ve noticed it since the day you walked in.” He whispers, getting closer to my ear, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Since you brought that terrible coffee, actually.” 

I pulled back, letting out a noise that was both composed of surprise and amusement. “Oh come on, it was not that bad.” 

“It was, but I can tell you tried.” He said, a small smirk playing on his face. “It was cute.” He said, now taking the time to brush some hair out of my face. It all happened quickly, his gaze tender and soft, before he captured my lips in a swoon-worthy kiss, pressing himself against me. I quickly melted into the kiss, letting out a satisfied sigh as I gripped his forearm, before rising from the chair as he slowly guided me to my couch. I let out a nervous laugh as my knees hit the cushions, tumbling a bit as I fell onto the soft pillows. He immediately pulled back, breathless, looking at me worriedly. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He murmured softly, kissing me again, a bit more gentle so I could murmur a soft “no” against his lips. 

“Good.” He growled, positioning himself above me on the couch,  beginning to press hot kisses down my neck, eventually reaching my exposed sternum, and looking up at me through hooded lids for implicit consent to continue, to which I nodded, feverishly. 

“Please.” I whispered, hoarsely. 

He took no time in obliging my request, rising a bit to remove the fabric of my shirt in one, clean swoop and continuing his assault on my chest, leaving open-mouthed kissed, eventually switching to nips and playful bites, as he sucked marks into the swell of my breasts, leaving me letting out delighted sighs and soft moans, which only seemed to encourage him to go lower. I arched my back, screwing my eyes shut, until he felt him stop, and come back to my neck. 

He murmured against me, close to my ear. I could feel his lips slowly brush the sensitive skin between my ear and neck, barely giving me any real stimulation, but it was enough to drive me crazy anyway. 

“Keep your eyes open, baby.” He whispers. “I want to see every part of your pretty face when I do this.” He says, returning lower again, leaving little kisses everywhere he could possibly go with his lips. I opened my eyes on command, watching as he went lower and lower, before finding the button on my jeans, slowly undoing them with nimble fingers and moving them off  my legs. I could imagine them so vividly inside me, expertly guiding me to pleasure in a way that mine couldn’t. But right now, if I wasn’t fucked senseless by him right now, I’d just about lose my mind. 

“Spencer.” I whispered, breathlessly. “I need you.” I breathed out. “Please.” 

“You need me to do what?” He asked, smirking as he already began to undo his own belt. 

“Spencer.” I repeated, firmly, not wanting to say the words. 

“Say it.” He says, in a much more commanding tone. 

“Spencer..” I repeat, breathing out again. “Fuck. I need-” I waver on the words, biting my lip. “I need you to fuck me. Now.” 

His smirk turns into a grin of satisfaction and pride, capturing my lips in yet another passionate kiss. “Mm. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He says, cockily. I whined against his lips, tacitly begging him to just get on with it and he chuckles, moving off of my mouth. 

“Alright. I get it.” He says, moving his lips downwards again, his lips brushing against my underwear, as he began to remove that fabric as well. He nearly moaned when he saw just how wet I really was. It was a bit embarrassing, just from a few touches and words, but it was hard to care when I felt his tongue right on my core, beginning to lap at the hot flesh, reducing me to moans as I knotted my fingers into his hair, arching my back and bucking my hips to feel more of his ministrations. He seemed to understand, hooking his strong arms under my thighs, firmly planting me to the couch we were currently on, continuing. I could feel his moans against me, sending vibrations that only heightened my arousal in that moment. As if that was even possible. 

And then it was, because I heard him murmur against me.“You taste-” he paused, using his tongue to lap up more of my arousal. “So fucking good.” He finished, beginning to now harshly flick at my clit, which caused an entirely new slew of sensations. I recognized my end was fast approaching, and I tugged on his hair, unable to form the words as the white-hot pleasure overtook me quickly, he seemed to understand this without a word, nursing me through my orgasm as my thighs shook around him and he held my hips down. Even then, he didn’t stop, continuing to flick his tongue, lapping up my arousal until I had to physically push him away with a soft groan. “Spencer.. It’s too much.” Even then, he continued, reducing me to nothing but moans, and I heard him whisper. “Come on. One more. Please.” The words unintentionally caused a flutter in my stomach, and in record time I was being pushed towards my second orgasm in a matter of 5 minutes.

His mouth was clearly so much better at this than arguing. 

I felt him lap up the last bit of my arousal, looking up at me with a glistening chin, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was the most erotic sight in the world at that moment. The man that had questioned me at every turn, now in between my legs. He gave a smirk, moving up and giving me a rough kiss, and I didn’t hesitate to moan in his mouth when I could taste myself on his tongue. He smiled as he broke the kiss, caressing my cheek with one of his hands. His thumb moved along the smooth expanse of my cheeks. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, gently, concern in his eyes. 

I couldn’t help but break out into a dazed smile, nodding, a thin cover of sheen over my body, where I was still breathing heavily. “Yeah. I’m good.” 

“Good.” He breathed out. “I’m not stopping.” 

“I don’t want you to stop,” was my response, his shirt coming off before I’d even finished my sentence. 

I watched in fascination as he undid his belt, the very sound of it filling me with anticipation and desire. I could feel myself getting more aroused by the second, despite my previous two orgasms. I wanted him, I wanted this so badly. 

I felt him position himself over me, and feeling the head of his arousal run through my folds. I let out a breathy groan, as I felt him push into me. He let out a moan of his own, shutting his eyes. “You feel.. So fucking good.” 

I whimpered slightly as my body adjusted to him and his size. He was so big, and I’d never felt full like this before. He noticed this and placed a gentle kiss against my lips, watching my face as it contorted in pleasure and pain. As the pain began to subside, I looked up at him nodding. 

“Move, please.” I begged, the desperation evident in my voice.

He took no time in obeying my request, beginning to slowly thrust in and out of me. I moaned, feeling his cock stretch me and fill me up in a way I had never been full before. A pleasant sensation bloomed through my lower abdomen, and I could feel him bury his head into my shoulder as he pushed into me, my walls clenching on his length with every movement he gave. He pressed wet kisses into my neck, and I moaned happily at the feeling. In an instant, I could feel him fucking me desperately, placing both of his hands on either side of my face. I could feel my jaw drop, and no sound came out. I was being hurdled towards my third orgasm of the night and it was all at the behest of the man in front of me, plowing into me like it was his job. 

I moaned loudly, my legs wrapping around his waist in an attempt to keep him buried in my deepest point, feeling my release creeping up on me. 

“Sp-Spencer..” I groaned, attempting to alert him of my impending orgasm, but he simply swooped down, kissing me roughly, which only caused me to moan into his mouth. 

“I know, baby.” He whispered, in a deliciously dark tone. “Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you make a mess all over my cock.” 

It took no more provocation from there, as I felt my hips buck up once more and my thighs shake. I came with a loud moan of his name, my free hand gripping onto him and leaving scratches I knew wouldn’t go away for a while. 

My release seemed to spur him on, the wetness allowing him to fuck into me harder. I watched the man above me lose all control, and it was beautiful. He grunted a bit, and I could feel his hips stutter, chasing after his orgasm. 

“Please, Spencer.” I begged. “Fill me up, I need to feel you come inside me.” I whispered. 

It didn’t take long after that, after a particularly hard thrust, a warmness filled me at my hilt and Spencer nearly collapsed over me. He gave me a kiss, murmuring into the skin of my neck. “So perfect, so fucking perfect for me.” 

I smiled at the praise, biting my lip. I let my hand traverse over his back, drawing figures into the warm skin. I looked at the man laying on my sternum, looking absolutely fucked out despite being the one to give me three orgasms tonight. “Perfect, you say?” I teased. 

He looked up at me, kissing my lips softly, before mumbling against them, “Mm. Perfect.” 

I had a sneaking suspicion the next time we were at work, and he’d have something to say about my work, (because he always did), it wouldn’t take long to have him whispering sweet nothings to me in an instant, just like he was now. At least I could do something right on the first try.

hi!! this is my first fanfiction i've written since i was literally in middle school. spoiler. far from middle school right now. leave a comment, reblog, like, whatever! i had fun writing this. my ask box should be open for more requests? if anyone would like. anyway! hope u enjoyed!! :3

[penny-anna]

how different Owl House characters might fare in a time travel AU (let's say back from 5 years post canon, dropped into their own body, classic scenario):

Luz: pretty good I think? i feel like she'd be able to convince Eda & King that she's telling the truth pretty easily. other characters would be tougher. post-canon Luz gives off the impression of being pretty smart and savvy plus she'd have the benefit of Glyph Mastery. most likely danger is that she'd end up over-planning and everything would just fall apart. Also the question of whether she'd manage to re-win Amity's heart.

Eda: my gut feeling was 'nothing would change' but that's not fair. would have no issue getting Luz to believe her bcos like Luz just wandered into a fantasy world someone there being like 'hi I'm your friend from the future' would be like aight let's chat. would probably hook up w Raine & their rebellion very early and get a lot of shit done.

Amity: would have a tough time getting anyone to believe her i think. also a much tougher time winning over Luz & her other friends as I don't think she'd be great at handling that situation. I could see her trying to just go it alone.

Willow: hmm i feel like she'd handle this pretty well? i think she'd do a good job of getting other people on side. similar to Luz might over plan it and end up completely losing her mind. would probably be there like 'okay now everyone's together, step one, we go rescue the Golden Guard'.

Gus: I feel like Gus & Willow mutually would trust each other unreservedly in this situation so he'd defo have at least 1 ally. significantly hampered by being 12 years old again. honestly i could see him leaping immediately to 'let's just kill Belos right now'.

Hunter: worst & yet also best option. no natural allies. extremely aware that if Belos suspects anything he is gonna be super dead. saving flapjack would be a very high priority. if we're sending him back to the beginning of s1 tho good chance of him just showing up at the Owl House and successfully winning Luz over for reasons of s1 Luz is down for anything; if we're sending him back to early s2 he's having a much rougher time.

Lilith: oh she would go insane I think

King: nobody would take King seriously

Hooty: nothing would change & i am not convinced he would even tell anyone

[blluespirit]

Overall NATLA Thoughts

Okay, now that I've watched the series, I can give my thoughts.

Overall, I thought it was good!!! I had fun watching it! I'd rate it a solid 6.5/10. It's nowhere as good as the original, but it was definitely enjoyable and made some nice changes here and there that I liked. There were also some things I was also Not a fan of too.

I said in another post that it's best to treat this like an AU of the original. There will things that are great and things that are bad. That's the nature of adapting something.

Having said that, I need to get my initial thoughts off my chest... here we go.

Things I thought were good:

Sokka's characterisation - I really enjoyed him! I thought Ian did a good job! He played the funny moments well and retained the underlying seriousness/cautiousness. It wasn't perfect, but I enjoyed the changes a lot and think it was overall a solid performance.

Zuko's characterisation - Like Sokka, I do think I was most satisfied with their performances. A lot of Zuko's moments from the cartoon are sometimes... well, cartoonish and definitely wouldn't translate to live action, but I think Dallas did a nice job at balancing Zuko's desperate anger and that occasional sassiness well.

Zuko and Iroh moments were great. Had me on the floor crying. As it should have.

The bending looks a trillion times better than the movie - I understand it would not have been easy for the actors but, overall, I was very happy about it.

The scenery was stunning. It just looked so beautiful. I loved it so much.

Absolutely ADORE that they made Zuko a good calligrapher and artist. I read a fic about a million years ago where Zuko is a fantastic calligrapher and I thought it was perfect and made so much sense, and now I can say it's canon. This is perfect for me.

S U K I

The Freedom Fighters were ✨ perfect

They were so real for making Oma and Shu lesbians

Koh, Wan Shi Tong and Hei Bai looked fantastic, but I have more to say about all of them below, unfortunately.

I actually like the change they made that Katara is Aang's sole waterbending teacher.

Aang is not perfect, and needed more goofy scenes HOWEVER, I did like how they've had Aang's guilt more prominent in the story. The original didn't do a very good job with that, imo.

Zuko entering is breaking and entering era by breaking into an impenetrable Earth Kingdom prison is just perfect.

In Masks, I like how Aang and Zuko got a longer conversation - that was pretty cute.

I liked how they changed Yue a bit and got her out of the arranged marriage... how Yue saw Sokka in the Spirit World before meeting him in the real world.

Things I didn't like:

Far too much info-dumping/exposition. So much spelling things out. It was not as egregious as the movie, and I get there's a lot of information that needs to be conveyed well and quickly... but sometimes it really took me out of the show.

Why are Mai and Ty Lee here.... I was hoping the live action would give them a bit more depth (and they might as it goes forward!), but why put them in season 1 at all if they're just going to stand around???

Some odd changes - putting this as one point, but there are some bizarre changes that didn't make sense to me, as they did not benefit the story or deepen the characters. I have two main examples: a) making it so Aang didn't run away from home, and b) making it so Zuko actually fights Ozai in the Agni Kai.

Characterisation of Katara was Not Great. I don't think I got many hints of the reckless, compassionate, badass Katara until the end when she fights Pakku and rallies all the women together to fight (which happens off-screen). She was sweet and kind, but she just lacked the fire that OG Katara has.

Azula's characterisation - Azula is desperate to impress Ozai and so her character is just…. brewing with anger, frustration, desperation. I was SO excited to see the Azula we are introduced too… perpetually and irritatingly calm, calculating and ruthless. She's perfect, she's terrifying! She's literally the character of all time. But this Azula had more Zuko vibes? I don't think there's anything wrong with giving Azula more concrete motivation by wanting to impress Ozai and establishing that Ozai is abusive to both his kids, but I do think trying to do that right off the bat is a mistake.

WHY is Wan Shi Tong here. I love Wan Shi Tong, but like I said: Why Is He Here? Why could we not have his iconic, ominous as fuck introduction from The Library, and instead he's introduced in a random season 1 episode giving Aang Information(tm) about the Spirit World.

When Aang gave Koh the statue, and then he just takes it and immediately lets all the villages go, and neither of them even say anything, I actually laughed out loud. Like, I am so sorry, but what in the jesus fuck was that.

Speaking of Koh - I think Koh is better the less we know about him. Roku saying ~all Koh wants is a family like the rest of us~ just pissed me off?? I like my Koh the Face Stealer Terrifying and Unknowable, thank you.

NOTHING EVER REALLY HAPPENS WITH HEI BAI!!?? where's my precious spirit bear?? Like Aang never really does anything with him and the replacement Koh story is boring and it sucks.

Bumi.... sorry I just didn't vibe with him at all.

Things I can't decide on:

Fancy spirit knife to kill the moon spirit annoyed me a bit, but I guess they wanted to Kuruk something to work with and a little bit more interaction with Aang which I get but idk. I really flip/flop on this one.

I've been very on the fence about having Azula (and Ozai) being in the show in season 1 in general. I'm not sure if it benefited either of their characters.

Azula & Ozai's dynamic - Okay, so, I think they're trying to give Azula more depth, right? They're trying to establish what it was like for Azula to live with Ozai and that she's also (like Zuko) trying to desperately prove herself to him, but Ozai using Zuko's... achievements to do that just felt so weird. I get he's doing it to manipulate her, but that just felt so wrong when in canon it's very obvious that Ozai just didn't give a single fuck about Zuko. Ozai pits Azula against Zuko by saying he's a failure, he's a bad bender etc. Azula is born lucky, Zuko is lucky to be born - like, Ozai says that to Zuko's face. I don't know if I am communicating this point very well, but it just didn't seem right to me??

Zuko vs Zhao in the Siege of the North... I genuinely do not know how to feel about it! I didn't love it, I didn't hate it. I don't know how to feel about Zhao telling Zuko that his mission is a sham and that Azula is the prized one... It feels like it's saying the quiet part out loud? In the OG we all know that Ozai sending Zuko on that mission was an excuse to get rid of him, but we can work that out, no one actually says it. And then Iroh just fucking killing him/mortally wounding him instead of the Iconic scene where Zuko reaches out to save him despite everything Zhao has done to him, but Zhao's own pride gets in the way from letting him accept help from Zuko.

Zuko’s crew being the 41st is not necessarily a bad thing at all!!! But I do just want to say that in the original, the attack goes ahead, and presumably, those soldiers die. It’s horrible. Zuko’s sacrifice is in vain, and it was always going to be in vain because the Fire Nation as it stands would not allow Zuko's compassion to win. Ozai would not allow it. While not necessarily a bad choice (all the soldiers bowing to Zuko on the boat was so sweet I loved it!) but I think it does take away some of the horror of Zuko’s story (same as it does with making Zuko fight back in my opinion) because the whole point is that Zuko did the right thing - and he was punished for it, and those soldiers died anyway.

anyway...

Okay!! got that off my chest. I know I just had a big whine here, but I still had a lot of fun watching this show. I think some of the backlash is a bit over the top and unwarranted. It was never going to stand up to the original - and that's okay.

Enjoy it for what it is!

[chappellroansdreamgirl]

officer!els<3

author's note - meow i love this woman.

content warnings - black!coded!reader ig????, fluff, els i love u ellie williams pls handcuff me to ur bed and police-brutalize me! , text msgs from reader that are very me-coded! , mostly just based off every grumpy but cool cop i've seen in media, lots of notes from me i'm going insane I NEED HER!!!!! , there's a white man in a pic i put... you have been warned, smut/suggestive shit at the end!

-------------------------------------------------------

- def wanted to be a cop when she was a kid and then was a total fucking juvenile as a teen. (duh!)

- always loved the police officers who barely ever gave troubled kids a hard time. (this is coming from a troubled kid. acab all the way except for u guys. well, still acab, but y'all r cool!) would refuse to talk to anyone except her favorites. i fully believe that's one of the reasons she would go into this workforce.

- when she got approved to start training to be a cop, u were home with her favorite strand of weed and she gave u a look like, "🤨🤨" , "can't be doing that no more baby, i'm gonna be a cop." , "...stfu and take the first hit before you piss me off..." , she's wearing a SHIT-eating grin before she takes it. (don't ask me how she passes her drug-tests!) (probably gets jesse to do it or someone idk maybe joel if she's lucky!) (def not joel...)

- ADDING ONTO THIS!^^ : every single time you smoke when she can't she'll look so sad or just side-eye tf out of you... "really?" , "what do you want me to do ellie..." u stopped smoking around her when she couldn't...

- this woman is so intimidating but once those cop dogs come on the scene she's so cute<3 . she's so smiley and happy they love her AND SHE LOVES THEM. she definitely sent u a picture of her with the group of the babies and was like, "can we adopt them all pls i love them ):" . you guys adopted a rescue pup shortly after...

- whenever you're doing ANYTHING EVER she flashes her badge at you and says something so loser of her , "don't make me handcuff you..." or makes finger guns with the sounds and GOD I LOVE THIS WOMAN.

- speaking of badges, she always has her badge on her. ALWAYS. it is EMBARRASSING!

- when she got her first arrest she was so happy:3 . i FEEL like she took a picture with the fucker and everything and she looked so proud of herself. "good job baby now pls get to the station before that mf breaks out of those handcuffs he looks like he's gonna murder u..."

- this is a headcannon of mine (and canon so why am i saying hc maybe it's just bcs it's more in-depth in my head.) but she loves kids and whenever she sees a younger person at the station, she makes sure that they're ok and have everything they need.

- with that being said, she HATES the teens who don't have a valid reason to be such delinquents. lovable delinquents are her soft-spot but those... THOSE ONES😧.

- definitely is a kitten-saver-cop. hates getting the call but she responds every time.

- sends u this pic anytime u say something mildly threatening to her in text msgs:

suggestive/NSFW!

-------------------------------------------------------

- the day she got her uniform, you wanted to jump her bones. she came back home, poor girl was so tired and all you could think about is how good she looked in that shit.

- like i said... the badge is with her at all times... maybe this is too feral but i feel like she put IT in ur mouth and took a polaroid of it after u were done eating her out or SSAAAWWWWMMMMTHHHIIIIING. (pls let me wear ur badge baby i'm on my knees BEGGING YOU!)

- definitely joked about role-playing jailer/jailed and then it wasn't a joke anymore. y'all tried it once and couldn't stop laughing.

- has definitely used her handcuffs on u or vice versa. she gets so excited when u pull that shit out.

- ggggg...g-g-gu-....gggggggggguuuunnn ki-

- definitely has fucked u in the uniform. u two probs have had a quickie in the station bathroom on multiple occasions.

bonus round - police!els edit<3 :

[bi-writes]

mercenary!ghost is dead inside. he wonders what it leaves behind on his pretty little bunny.

notes about reader: as always, reader is curvy and ghost knows exactly what he wants to do with all that ass

more mercenary!ghost (part 2/?)

word count: 5k

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, pet names (luv, pet, bunny + rabbit, puppy), dark!ghost, mean!ghost, toxic!ghost, ghost is thicc, mentions of violence and gore + murder and extortion, mw3 spoilers, mentions of ghost's canon trauma, tw smoking, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink (reader described as much smaller, manhandled easily), suggestive touching and oral (fem!receiving), cumplay, mentions of dubcon but relationship/dynamics are consensual, simon "i eat pussy like a god" riley

his phone is ringing. it surprises him, the sound of it. it's not familiar, to hear it ring, to see a name on the screen of it and recognize it.

there was no one left to call. not until now.

he adjusts his hold on his rifle, slipping an earbud into his ear.

"'ello?"

"almost back yet?" it's you. rattling your cage.

"'m busy."

"i know--" he clicks his tongue when you say this, annoyed. "but you're not back yet."

"i'll be back when i'm back."

"yeah, but when is that?"

brat.

"'s this how it's gonna be? botherin' me when 'm out?"

"uh huh. so when are you gonna be back?"

"when 'm back."

you huff at that, and ghost snarls a bit under the mask, adjusting the scope and peering through it. there is movement, and he focuses. then your soft voice sounds again, "are you with someone else?"

there's a grunt, and then a firm, "no." and it is the truth, and you know it is, because he doesn't care enough to lie to you. you sigh on the other end, staring up at the ceiling with a wobbly bottom lip.

"we done 'ere?" he asks after a long pause. you sniffle, closing your eyes.

"take me with you next time."

he hangs up before he answers. needy little puppy he has, he knows this. he isn't unfamiliar with this kind of dynamic. it wasn't unlike the job he used to have--a lieutenant, a man in charge, in command of other needy puppies that needed to be put in their place. he wonders often if johnny would have liked you, but you are enough trouble as it is on your own.

a pet dies and another is bought; whatever ghost is, he outlives them.

he attracts them, he thinks. the ones who ache to belong. from the first moment he met you, he knows that is why he felt his blood run a little warmer at the sight of you--it is something in your eyes, something he recognizes, something that he knows tastes so fucking good. there is predator, and there is prey, and then there is the in-between. the purgatory of those who have no idea who they are. they must be shown. they have to be taught, and if they fall into the wrong hands, they are mangled and chewed through.

he wonders for a moment if maybe his mother was one of them. then he remembers that it doesn't matter what she was, because his father had black running through his veins. the same black that simon thinks he sees in the mirror--and sometimes it bleeds onto his face, he swears it's there, hiding underneath the eye-black he paints on himself.

when he was younger, he used to hide from his reflection because of it. the rot of the other half that he was made of, it terrified him. he feared being consumed by it. he was afraid of letting it show, he was afraid of scaring other people.

but when he crawled himself out of his early grave and buried the good half of himself, he didn't flinch in the mirror any longer. he let himself linger there, and when he swiped the black against his pale skin for the first time, he remembers thinking that maybe it had always been there. that he doesn't recognize himself without it because this is what i am, something made of ash, something that shouldn't be here, the remnants of something that touched a flame too hot and swallowed something foul. rancid.

and maybe that is what he's been doing since then--maybe that is what the hollow place is that he feels inside, maybe it's the half that he buried that he wishes so fucking badly to hold onto because it's the only thing that distracted him from feeling like the thing that he truly is. and maybe that is why he died again when johnny did; it was too late to realize that the hollowness is back, and it is deeper, and it hurts now, fuck, take it back, take it away--

and maybe that is why he hates you in some way. because the space is gone. it is filled again; and you fit so perfectly there, and it will happen again, and he has no idea how many more times he can lose the redeemable half of him until there is nothing left to redeem.

but black still runs in his veins, and he is selfish, and he will hold onto it until it's gone. he doesn't care. he is a thing, he is not real, and it doesn't matter to him if he will die again when you do, because while he has you, he will drink what you give him. salvation, redemption, painting his blood red, whatever the fuck it is that you are meant to give him, he will take it, and he will devour it, and he doesn't care what he leaves behind.

he wants it. it's selfish, it's cruel, but he wants it. everything he touches fades away; if he was something real, he would cut you off. but he isn't, and he doesn't care, and he's curious to know what the stain of himself will look like on you.

beautiful you. such a pretty girl. soft like a bunny, glittering eyes--if he was a poet, he might say they are filled with starlight. but ghost is a predator; the shine of you only makes his mouth water.

you were his the moment he saw you for the very first time. he was not inclined to ask your permission, but it wouldn't have mattered--he knew as soon as your eyes met, really met, that he had you. hook, line, and sinker--there it is, there she is, what she really is inside. there is a light there inside of you, he could see it.

he is going to snuff it out. he doesn't know why, but he will, because he wants to. he has an urge to kill something, and he thinks whatever it is that swims in you will do just fine. he knows, somehow, that you will look beautiful covered in it--in the tears when he breaks, when he tears, when he destroys, you will look beautiful, and he won't stop until he takes all of it. he knows, too, he doesn't know how he knows but he knows, that you will let him.

he crossed another name off his list today. he watched them on a lonely rooftop all morning, and it rained. he watched them move back and forth, between doorways, answering phone calls. he doesn't ask questions, so he wonders occasionally what it is they did to warrant a visit from him.

they could've stolen. maybe they betrayed; that is a popular motivation. lovers' quarrels--he knows what it is to die for love, but dying for love at the wrong end of his rifle isn't in marriage vows. maybe they were in the wrong place at the wrong time; maybe they saw what they shouldn't have, and it was enough for a visit from their guardian angel.

sometimes he thinks that what he does is at their mercy; because if he didn't do it, if he didn't make it so quick, so easy, they would suffer. at least this way, by his hand, they would never know. he brings comfort. ease.

it is the same with you, it has to be. he closes his fist and bangs on the outside of your door. the wood rattles under the force, and when you open the door, the look that you give him only solidifies his assumption. if it wasn't him keeping you, then it would be someone else. someone else would look into those eyes, and they would take from you, but they wouldn't be like him. he takes, and he will take, but you won't know that you are empty until it's too late.

that is merciful, isn't it? this kind of love is forgiving, right? the kind that shields, the white lies that protect, that blindfold that hides--this is humane. he is a thing, a predator, yes, but he isn't like the others.

right?

you step aside, and he has to maneuver his shoulders to make it past the narrow doorway. as you close the door, your eyes linger. he wears a dark rain jacket over a long sleeve, dark cargo pants tucked into heavy boots. he wears a holster on one meaty thigh, but it only holds a small pack there. his balaclava is plain, hiding all but his dark eyes, and the hood of his jacket casts a long shadow over him. the gloves he wears are of a utility variety--he worked today. if you ask him, he will say yes, but he will not tell you anything else.

sometimes, you aren't sure if he just doesn't care or if he is trying to protect you from some ugly truth. but then you remember that there are no ugly truths with ghost; the truth is as it is, nothing more and nothing less, and if he hides it from you, it is because you simply don't need to know.

you lock the door behind you, leaning against it. he moves through your apartment with ease. he has been here before, but it feels as if he has always been here. he knows how to rattle the balcony door to get the lock to free, and you don't remember showing him how to unlatch it. you busy yourself with putting the kettle to boil as you see him light a match, a cigarette between two gloved fingers.

it's a nasty vice. it blackens the lungs, shrinks the organ, addicts the user. but it tastes good. and it feels good. and it isn't what will kill him, because this isn't real.

you come outside, a mug of tea in your hand, and you set it down beside him. he flicks ash off the cigarette, spreading his legs wide as he sits there, watching the street below. it's quiet because it's raining, and while the balcony is covered, it wets the toes of his boots.

he looks so good. he spreads himself out in the chair, taking up so much space, and his hand that doesn't hold the cigarette is spread out along his thigh, running absentmindedly down the material of his pants. it's hard to describe the breadth of him--ghost is just big. his hands, the height of him, the space that you can tuck yourself into his chest. he could curl you around his arm, wrap you up with both of them, trap you there. you don't hate the thought of that, the idea of him keeping you there like that. you think about the width of his hand, how it might look with the black of his glove spread out across your throat, holding you there, keeping you there.

you think about what it would be like to be under his mercy. his control. to feel the press of those fingers against the hollow of your throat, knowing he could crush your windpipe with just one perfectly placed squeeze. he would know where to touch. he would know where to tug just right to cut the air off.

it's too bad you didn't know you already belonged to him.

"can i have some?"

you nod to the cigarette burning in his hand. his eyes flicker up to look at you for a moment before he adjusts in the chair. he shrugs finally.

"'f you want."

you put a hand on his shoulder, lowering yourself to sit on his lap. you wear nothing except for a loose shirt, one that covers you to your thighs, but when you sit, it rides up. he takes the weight of you easily, not looking strained in the slightest, one arm supporting the thickness of your thighs with a firm grasp.

you lean forward a little, into him, and he brings the cigarette to your lips. you wrap your lips around it, taking a breath. you want to revel in that fact that you're putting your lips around something his own have touched, and then you start to cough.

the air burns. you turn your head to the side and wheeze; you hear a condescending chuckle, and you go warm with embarrassment. but his hand rubs small circles into your back, coaxing the smoke out of your lungs. you take in a few strong breaths to clear the smoke, and then you look away from him.

"not a smoker, eh?"

"that was...my first time."

when your head turns back to face him shyly, he tilts his head to the side. you cannot see any of his expression, but you imagine he's curious. the way his eyes look you up and down tell you that much.

"wot, you saw me do it, 'n ya think y'can take it?"

you don't respond, just keep your eyes on his. your fingers move, spreading across the solidity of his chest, and you rest them there. you lean in a little more, your face only a few mere inches from his own, and it gives you an opportunity to examine him so close.

his mask is weathered, the skull mouth painted along the mouth a little faded and messy with wear. he smells like cigarettes and earth, wet soil and ash and something warm. the eye-black that is smeared across his eyes fades out at the edges, and the paleness of his skin peeks out a little. you know the black covers the tiredness under his eyes, the lines that must be set in his face from how much he frowns. he has blonde lashes and dark eyes, and what intrigues you the most is that you can see the jagged edge of a healed scar peeking out from under the fabric that hides him.

he frowns, and you see the furrowing of the skin underneath. you meet his eyes again, and it feels surreal to see him in this much detail. you don't think this is a common occurrence; you have a feeling that anyone that has ever gotten this close to him did not live to talk about it the next day.

he has never told you, but you know death follows him. you have never seen what war has done to him, you can't see the rough skin and the patches where skin has been shredded or torn off, but you know, sitting so close to him, that he leaves bodies behind him and terrifies the ones that approach.

you wonder if you should be afraid, but then you remember that if he wanted to kill you, he would have done it by now. he does not want to kill you.

he wants to eat you.

you have asked him once what he does for work. he said he used to work for the military, but he didn't say anymore. when you asked what he did now, he said he was an independent contractor.

a contractor for what, you did not get the answer to. just that he was his own boss now, and no one told him what to do anymore.

"what did you do today?" you ask him finally, reaching up timidly and slipping a thumb down the line of his strong jaw.

"work."

"and how was it?"

he does not answer, and your eyes flicker back up to his, studying his reaction. he doesn't give one, just eyes the line of your throat as you swallow hard.

"a good pay day then?" you ask, and he hums at that. you smile a little, reaching up with both hands and cupping his masked cheeks gently. "must be good at what you do."

his face flickers a bit at that. he sniffs, looking to the side before back at you, shrugging those broad shoulders of his. one of his big hands comes up and slips up the shirt you wear, gripping your ass firm.

"good at other things, too," is all he says, and you smooth one of your thumbs down the row of painted teeth along the mouth of the mask. his breath comes out warm under your thumb.

"like killing people?"

his hand stiffens against you, and he glares up at you. a huff of a breath comes out, and you tense a little. he flicks the cigarette onto the ground, reaching up with that hand and gripping you around the jaw. your face fits nicely in his hand, and you might enjoy it if it wasn't so aggressive, the way he touched you. he shakes you a little, bringing you close enough that you can feel the wetness of his snarl against your lips.

"that wot y'think i am? some kind o'murderer?" he spits. "think 'm some kind o'fuckin' killer?"

a wave of tears prick the sides of your eyes, and you grip his wrist tight, trying to keep the pressure off of you.

"i know what you do," you whisper. "i know what you do, it's pretty obvious."

"yeah? 'n ya think it's a good idea to fuckin' talk t'me this way? ask me questions you don't want the answers to?"

you narrow your eyes, and you stare back at him, matching the intensity of his own. this makes him laugh; there is no humor in his laugh, but he laughs, and he rattles your whole head as he brings you close enough that your lips brush against the fabric of his mask.

"oh...you want me to tell ya...want me to spill all my bloody secrets..." he growls. you let out a whine when he brings you even closer, smashing your lips against the front of his mask. you choke out a whimper, and you swear you feel his tongue trying to find yours through the barrier. "think y'can handle the lot like me, bunny, and you can't. blood on m'ledger would fuckin' drown you."

and it is the truth, he knows it is, and he wouldn't lie to you because he just doesn't fucking care enough to think up a lie. he didn't serve so many years, he didn't give so much time to what he thought was righteous to come home and paint war as a pretty picture to civilians like you. war is blood, war is loss, war is what takes and takes and takes from a man, until they are things. until they come home and realize they have no idea what they were fighting for when they seem the same dirty streets they left behind.

when their brothers still get killed. when their families still come apart. when their lovers betray them, when they break their hearts--when they realize they are glorified weapons for the politicians that don't care about them, that send them away to die, that refuse to support them when they come home without the goodness that they left with.

he gave his entire life up for this. they took his family, they took the only half of him that mattered, and what was it for? nothing waits for him at home. there is no one in his bed, there is no one to call, there was no money in the bank.

there is only the memories that manifest into nightmares, and the blue sky that reminds him of blue eyes. the blue eyes that he could not save, the blue eyes that haunt him, that ask him, desperately--let the bonnie lass go, LT. you cannae save'er.

but he is a lieutenant, and he was a sergeant, and he didn't take fucking orders from anyone anymore anyways.

you are his, and you look so pretty in that cage. pretty enough to eat. pretty enough to take away. pretty enough to poison, because he thinks maybe this is the only way to make himself feel better.

he wants to see your blood run just as black as his own. misery loves company, they say, and it would please him, the selfish thing that he is, to see you just as ugly inside as he is.

"but you want it," he says, and your eyes flick back to meet his. you don't smile, but your gaze doesn't falter. you just stare back at him, and he laughs again, because he sees something he recognizes there. something inhuman, something a little feral. it is inside you.

and he wants it out.

he stands, leaning over you. you're forced to walk backwards, and he doesn't stop until you're back inside. he closes the balcony door behind him, putting a hand on your chest before forcing you backwards with a firm push. the back of your knees hit the couch, and you squeak as you fall back against it.

you almost think he's going to pounce on you. rip your panties to fabric shreds, spread you wide, and fuck you into the cushions. you think he's going to take from you, because that is what predators do, but you're almost taken back by the sight of him lowering to his knees.

he's kneeling. this behemoth of a thing kneels in front of you, and you yelp with a start when he grips you by the back of your knees and yanks you forward, manhandling you until he has your legs tossed over his shoulders. he grunts as he pushes the shirt up to expose your cotton panties, a soft red pair that you know he will ruin when he's done with you.

your back arches as he buries the front of his mask against your cunt, taking a deep breath through the mask. it's filthy, the way he takes in the scent of you, and if you were sane, you would push him away, the nasty thing he is. but you don't--the gesture floods your insides with need, and you squirm in his grip.

"stay still, little rabbit," he says, but it's a demand. he moves one hand further up your thighs, and you whimper softly when his thumb squishes the slit of you through your panties. his eyes brighten when he notices the fabric darkening as soon as he does this, a growing wet spot dampening your underwear. "look at 'er...drippin'...you hungry, luv?"

"uh...ngghhh..."

"oh, fer fuck's sake, haven't even got m'mouth on ya, and y'can't speak already?"

he laughs, because he is mean, because he is a thing that just wants and takes, and what he wants is between your thighs, and you are easy. you want to be more of a challenge; you want to make him work for it, but his eyes flicker up to meet your own, and there is nothing you can do. there is something said whenever your eyes are on each other--you have no idea what it is, but it tames him, and it keeps you.

"he woulda loved you," he says suddenly. you frown, opening your mouth to say something, to ask who he is, but his index finger pulls your panties aside, and he buries his masked face into the wet seam of your pretty pussy.

you cry out at the feeling, your thighs closing around his head instinctively. your back bows even further, a taut, imaginary string being pulled inside of you, and ghost laughs again, because you're so warm and cute and needy. he pushes his face further into you, nuzzling his nose into the place where he knows your clit is, and he draws the most delicious moans out of you. he smiles under the mask when one of your shaking hands grips the back of his head, pushing him deeper, his mask soaking with the slick of you.

he continues the torture for a time unknown. your brain isn't working; you have no concept of time. all you can think about is the way your legs shake and the grip your hands have on the back of his head as you grind your hips up into him. your eyes flutter open and closed, and you push your shirt up a little so he can see your nipples harden with how much everything aches for him.

it feels so good. he grunts, and then a low groan leaves him when you maneuver his head, shoving his nose up against your clit again and slanting your hips up and into him. you're getting off on this--fucking the front of his mask to feel something, to feel this thing you have been chasing for your entire life.

you saw it in him the first time you met him. the knowing when your eyes met for the first time--whatever it is that you have been chasing for your entire life, it is in him, and you need it.

the thing that poets chase. the rush that a high brings. the missing half of you, the warmth of a love you've never had, the shape of something in your cunt that you know he can fill.

you think you might faint when you feel his tongue finally. you can't see his face; he hides it with a wet mask, but his tongue is inside of you now, and you can't help the crying moans that leave you as he laps at your folds like a thirsty dog. maybe he is thirsty--you can hear the lewd, deep swallowing sounds he makes as he tightens his grip on your thighs and bobs his head in time with your stuttering, pleasure-chasing hips.

he drinks. he drinks you insane. his tongue suckles at your clit, then lets it go with a filthy pop to swirl inside your tightening cunt and eat the pretty bunny he has been thinking about far too much. when he works, before he sleeps, in the shower, in the mirror as he covers the scars of him that he never wants to share anymore. the taste of you is enough to distract him--here, between your thighs, your sweetness in his mouth and your moans filling his ears, he doesn't think about anything else. it's impossible. he has been chasing the void for a long time, and all he had to do was eat a pretty girl to get to it?

he knows it now, has decided it already. your cunt is redemption, and he will lose himself in it to make it reality.

"ghost! please!"

your cries shatter his resolve. he folds you in half as he leans over you now, his hands sliding up your soft stomach before he grips the weight of your breasts in his rough hands and squeezes firmly. you whine, cry, moan, beg--you beg for more, for him to please, please, please--! it feels so good, i want it! i want you, i want it all, i want--i want--what does she want?

me? the thing? what isn't real? because ghost knows that if he gives in, it is over. he signs something away, and he has done this before, and suddenly he is afraid.

when he did this before, he was left something else. he is afraid of what will happen the next time. what will happen to him, what might become of him, because what he is now terrifies his reflection, and he has no idea what it'll do.

"please! please! please!"

but you're crying, and you taste so good. and as he laves into the prettiest pussy he's ever had, the sweetest, he remembers why he is here. he isn't here because he loves you. he isn't here because he cares, he isn't here because it is good.

he is here because whatever he is needs a new host, and you are what it wants. soft, pretty, naïve--you have let it inside, and now he will eat and chew and bite until he sucks something out of you.

maybe the good. maybe blood. but it doesn't matter.

he slides his hands back down, using both thumbs to spread your folds apart, and he pulls back to look at you. you're a sloppy mess, your little hole puckering and pulsing, your clit a throbbing bud that begs him to stop teasing. he looks up at where you're a whimpering, crying thing, tears sliding down your puffy cheeks, and he snarls before he leans down and spits right on your clit, watching it drip into your cunt and swirl between what seeps from you.

"say it."

"nnh...huh?"

"say who you belong to."

when you take a moment to answer, he leans down and licks a fat stripe over your clit, making you sob. you reach down, cupping the underside of his jaw. it's bare, and your soft hands glide over the scarred skin there. it is the first time he doesn't flinch.

"you--you!"

"say it."

"b-belong to you..."

the moonlight is blue when he makes you come. his lips wrap around your clit and suckle soft, and when he knows you're coming, he opens his mouth, hinging a strong jaw so he can swallow what drips from you and take in mouthfuls of it. there is a glare over you, a blue light that shines over your sweaty, shivering body, and ghost nearly bites.

as if the blue eyes he can't keep out of his head, the blue eyes that follow him everywhere he goes, are mocking him for taking the thing he knows he shouldn't have. he's telling him to leave you. that there's still time to let you go. that what he has in his hands, what he has at his mercy, is too soft and too pretty and too gentle to be touched by what he will bring to her doorstep.

you sit up on your elbows, half-lidded, face wet with your tears. ghost almost believes the blue that washes over you, but then his eyes meet yours, and it is over. you're smiling.

this is acceptance. because you know what he is. you know what he does. the gun on him is real. the black in his eyes isn't a trick of the light. the poison spreading in his veins isn't just a sickness, it is a cancer, and this will kill him, and it is contagious.

you cup his face, bringing him up, letting him crowd the space between your legs as he leans over you.

he would care. he wants to care. and when he kisses you, sealing your fate, he remembers, suddenly. the blue moonlight is gone.

and this isn't real.

[confused-pyramid]

Derailed

pairing: tangerine x assassin!fem!reader

summary: When Tangerine spots you in the middle of his mission on a bullet train, he gets entangled in your plans and loses track of his own...

word count: 2.8k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, slight marking, dirty talk, canon!typical violence, drinking

"Got it, sir," you say before hanging up the phone and stepping onto the train. This was your first mission since you left the White Death's payroll and you had to prove yourself to your superiors if you wanted to rebuild your reputation.

You have no idea what is waiting for you on this train, but you can imagine a mission as straightforward as retrieving a briefcase will be anything but simple.

Straightening your bartender uniform, you push through the throngs of people exiting the train and strut down the aisles as you search for the package you were assigned to find.

***

"Enough with the Thomas the train shit," Tangerine groans to Lemon as the bullet train finally leaves the station. "I don't give a flying fuck if you think I'm a Thomas or Diesel or whatever."

"Well, first of all," Lemon interjects, lifting a finger, "it's Thomas the Tank Engine. And second of all, I never said you were a Diesel. I made that very cle-"

Tangerine stops listening when he notices your figure pass them down the aisle, your gait tantalizingly familiar. 

What the fuck are you doing here? he thinks before standing up abruptly.

"Lemon, hold that thought."

Tangerine grabs the briefcase and slowly follows you down the aisle, making sure to keep a safe distance so as not to alert you of his presence. He's skirting around the other passengers trying to put their luggage away, and he's about to catch up with you when a person in a large Momomon costume steps in front of him.

"Get the fuck out of my way," he grunts irritatedly, shoving the figure into one of the seats, before noticing all the children around him. "Apologies for my language."

He leaves them with a small wave, but it's only then that he notices you are missing.

"Fuck!" Tangerine exclaims again, kicking the seat next to him. He doesn't waste any more time and rushes down the aisle, waiting as the sliding doors take their time to open in front of him.

When the door finally slides open, he steps into the corridor, only to feel a lithe hand grab the back of his neck and push him forward. He spins around, but is pushed to the floor before he can register what is happening.

The next thing he knows, he is kneeling on the ground, looking up at you, as you press a small gun to his temple.

When did you start using guns?

Tangerine immediately puts his hands up, knowing the only way to diffuse this is to play to your soft side (okay, softer side).

"Hey, hey," he urges you in a charming tone, "I just wanted to talk, sweetheart."

"Yeah?" you challenge, pressing the cold metal harder against his head. "Let's hear it then."

He runs a hand through his hair, pushing the soft curls back from his face. "It's been too long, doll. I wanted to catch up, see how you've been."

He can't imagine that any of this is working on you, but he has to try if he's going to finish this mission in one piece.

You smirk, finally taking in Tangerine's kneeling form before you. If your employer had told you that this mission would involve beautiful men on their knees, you would have signed up ages ago.

You met Tangerine six years ago at a job that ended up going completely awry...for him at least. The White Death had sent you to Japan to kidnap the son of one of the remaining Japanese crime families, and when you arrived, Tangerine and Lemon had already been walking him out the front door. They were nothing if not punctual, but back then, that was about the only thing they were good for.

Your weapon of choice had always been tranquilizer darts -- but you never said no to good ol' hand-to-hand combat -- and your lack of real weaponry eventually become a calling card of sorts. Especially because you always made it out alive, and with the job completed to perfection.

That day, Tangerine and Lemon clearly hadn't been expecting anyone, because upon spotting you, they didn't even bother to blink. You had played into their naive mindset and when you got close enough to grab the kid, they were each left with a tranq dart to the neck and a nice, long nap to recover from the shame of losing their asset.

Since then, you have been on opposite sides of many more missions, but the retrieval of this briefcase is the closest encounter you two have had in years.

In your reverie, your gun loosens in your hand and Tangerine must have noticed, because he shoots up, pushing your hand to the side and yanking his gun from his waistband. You aim your weapon at him again, and you are both left pointing your guns at each other, your grip tightening as your heart rate quickens slightly.

"Alright, darling, give me one good reason not to kill you right now?" he threatens, his jaw tightening by a fraction. "You fucked up our entire operation in Bolivia when you knocked out Lemon and got the White Death's men out before we could kill them all."

"Oh, honey, I've done much more than that," you smile, cocking your head to the side. If this was the game he wanted to play, then you would play along, but only as long as he kept it interesting.

"And as for why you shouldn't kill me," you continue, your eyes glinting with amusement. "It's because you need me."

Then, before he can react, you whack the side of his head with your gun and grab the briefcase from his hands. He grunts, clutching his temple, and you use the moment of distraction to dart out of the corridor and down the train cars, sprinting past the passengers and the angry ticket collector.

When you reach the bar compartment, you pull open a random cabinet and stuff the briefcase in a garbage can. It's not a moment too soon, because a second later, Tangerine bursts through the doors, his chest heaving and expression getting more agitated by the minute.

Reaching down, you grab a cocktail shaker and pour in the ingredients laid out on the counter, preparing a drink for yourselves. 

"Where the hell is it?" he demands, stalking towards you.

You shrug, fighting the curve of your lips. "You'll get it when I've gotten what I need from you."

Your gun is sitting idly on the counter, so he tucks his own into his waistband and shrugs off his suit jacket, tossing it to the side. He starts to roll back his sleeves and you lick your lips as you shake the cocktail.

If nothing else went right on this mission, at least you'd be getting some eye candy for the evening.

Along with all of the times you've screwed up his missions, there have also been a multitude of other close encounters. Whether it was his hand around your throat as you stole his asset right from under him, or his breath against your neck as he snuck up behind you during a stake-out, his presence always entranced you.

Tangerine's seemingly magnetic hold on you has never escaped your notice, but it has also never gotten in the way of you finishing your jobs. 

He sees the glint in your eyes, but doesn't say anything, deciding to use it to his advantage.

"Come on, sweetheart," he smiles sweetly, placing his rough hands on the counter in front of you. "Where is the briefcase?"

"Why do you need the case anyway?" you ask him, your eyes imploring his with something akin to genuine curiosity.

"It's the ransom money for the Son of the White Death," he responds honestly, watching your movements carefully as you grab glasses from below the counter.

You seem to ponder this. "Intriguing. On a separate note, how is Lemon these days? I heard they're calling you two the fruit twins now."

Tangerine rolls his eyes, his hands slamming down on the counter as he loses his patience. "He's fucking fantastic. Now where is the case, y/n?"

You don't respond, and instead pour out two drinks before sliding one towards him.

He doesn't bring his lips to the glass until you gulp down your whole drink and even then, he only takes a few sips.

He sees you watch his throat bob and he feels an unfamiliar pleasure at the thought of you finding him attractive.

"Look, Tangerine," you say with a resigned sigh, "I'm not working for the White Death anymore, but I still would like that briefcase. You know, for leverage."

He's not sure how to respond but then you start unbuttoning your blouse and, even after that drink, he feels his mouth go dry. His mind goes blank and he can't formulate any thoughts as your long, smooth neck becomes visible. Only when the first few buttons pop open does he realize that you're showing him your bullet proof vest.

Running a hand down your padded chest, you shoot him an amused look. "In case you try anything stupid." You pause, your hand sliding down your thigh. "Besides, if I remember correctly, you never liked these anyway, did you?"

This time, he anticipates your movements, and when a knife goes flying out of your hand, straight towards his chest, he manages to dodge at the last second, watching as it sinks into the hard back wall of the compartment.

When he turns back around, you're gone.

***

That was a lot closer than you would have liked, and you slink down the train cars, gripping the handle of the briefcase between your fingers. 

It feels like everyone's eyes are on you as you walk down the aisle, slipping past the economy cars. When you reach the first class car, you stash the briefcase in the luggage compartment and are about to wait for the next stop to arrive when a man in a white suit takes a seat across from you.

"Can I help yo-" you begin before he cuts you off.

"You will pay for what you did to my family."

"Listen man, I don't know who you are," you try to tell him, but he pulls a massive knife from his belt and you know you can't just sit here any longer.

Swinging your legs out of the seat, you shove him away and grab the laptop of a sleeping woman a few seats over. Using it as a shield, you block a few of his jabs and slices before his knife finally starts to pierce through the metal and glass. 

Chucking the laptop at him, you run in the opposite direction, back towards the briefcase, but he's right on your tail.

You push your way into the corridor, but the man grabs you from behind, shoving you forward and slicing down with his knife. The edge grazes your bicep and you wince, but right before you can brace yourself for the next swing, a gunshot rings out from behind you and the man falls to the floor, a shocked look plastered on his face as the life leaves his eyes. 

You immediately jerk your head back to see who your savior is, and you admit that you're surprised to see Tangerine lowering his gun. 

"Thanks," you gasp out, not wanting to waste another moment. He's tucking his pistol away when you reach towards the luggage to grab the case, but he sees your intentions and acts quickly.

His corded bicep locks around your neck from behind, pulling you back with an extraordinary strength that has you flying off the ground.

You gasp, struggling to breathe, but then you manage to lift your legs and kick out at the wall, pushing the both of you back. His grip loosens slightly, but it's just enough for you to spin around, sending him a kick to the shin that makes him grunt.

Tangerine strikes out at you, his fist narrowly missing your jaw, and you knee him in the groan, making him double over in pain for a few moments.

 "That was low," he groans, his face turning red, "even for you, doll."

You chuckle, backing up. "It's a man's world, Tan."

Nevertheless, he's stronger than you remember and he recovers quickly, locking his forearm against your neck and pushing you back into the bathroom. You press up against the wall, facing him, and you can't help the smirk that reappears on your lips.

Well, this is certainly interesting.

"You're better," you huff, your voice straining from the weight of his arm, "than Bolivia, I mean."

You dig your fingers into his hard muscles, trying to pry him off. "You two were absolutely miserable back then, but you've got some chops now."

Tangerine smirks, leaning forward so his breath tickles your nose. "You haven't seen the half of it, darling."

Your eyes dart down to his mouth for a split second, but he's just as fast and he notices your hitched breath. His eyes darken immediately, and before you can utter a word, his mouth is on yours.

His arm lets you go and his large hands grasp at your waist as you press into him, clinging to his body for support in the small bathroom.

His calloused fingers on your skin send a shot of heat down to your core and you bite his lip harshly. He pulls back for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise and lust, and you notice the drop of blood a second before he wipes it away.

Your lips crash together again and he doesn't take his time while grabbing your loosely hanging hair and tugging back, exposing your neck to him. Tangerine licks a line up the column of your throat and your fingers split open his vest and button-down in one go, sending the buttons flying to the floor.

You gasp when he tears off the velcro of your bullet proof best, chucking it to the floor, before kicking the bathroom door closed with a loud click.

Thankfully, your skirt provides him easy access, and he doesn't hesitate before yanking your panties to the side and sticking a thick finger into your pussy. You cry out, your head falling back against the small mirror as he hoists you up onto the sink.

He doesn't warn you before adding another finger, his quick pumps hitting the walls of your cunt with a harsh precision that has you getting close embarrassingly fast.

"Look at you," he smirks, watching your eyes roll back, "whimpering like a school girl from just my fingers."

You are about to finish, and he must feel the tightening of your core, because he pulls away, leaving you impatient and unsatisfied.

"Bastard," you groan as he chuckles, bringing his fingers up to your lips.

You suck them into your mouth, and he almost moans at the feeling of your hot tongue around him. When they're clean, he pulls his fingers from your mouth with a pop and reaches down to undo his buckle. 

Tangerine pushes his trousers down to his knees and angles you back before sheathing himself fully inside of you in one movement. 

He groans from the wet heat of your cunt and the tightness of you squeezing around him has him gripping the counter for support. He doesn't wait before thrusting up into you at the pace of a bullet train, his rhythm never faltering even as your head falls back in pleasure.

Tangerine leans down and sucks a bruise into your neck, enjoying the way the purple and red blossom against your skin in a delicious mark. 

You start to tighten around him and he knows his release is imminent, so he lifts you up off his cock and turns you around so your elbows are on the counter. He starts to fuck you from behind, one hand on your waist while the other grips the back of your neck, holding you to him.

You arch your back, changing the angle in a way that has both of you moaning with pleasure. You come apart a moment later, and he follows close behind, relishing the sound of your whimpering as his body slowly relaxes.

He pulls away from you, grabbing a paper towel to clean you both up, when he hears a light hiss from the ceiling.

He looks up to see a thin green snake slithering down from the vent, its teeth bared and ready. Both of you shriek as the snake shoots down toward Tangerine. He smacks it away and into the toilet, but not before it takes a sharp bite out of his shoulder.

His vision starts to blur and you grab his arms, leaning him back against the counter before you move to open the door.

"Please tell me you spiked those drinks from earlier with the antidote," he groans, his face growing hotter as the venom spreads through his system.

"Well," you whisper, your voice fading as he loses consciousness, "I guess today was your lucky day."

[wlwcatalogue]

Some WLW (?) Jdrama & Kdrama recommendations!

Jdramas and Kdramas have a (not-entirely-unearned) reputation for being very straight, but here are a few which are either canonically F/F or which prominently feature a female-female pair-- please enjoy! For those who enjoy following series in real time, Chaser Game W and She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat S2 are both airing this January 2024 :)

As with my post on anime with yuri subtext, since subtext is so subjective, this list only includes series which I’ve actually watched, and so is by no means intended to be comprehensive. Also, it doesn't include any webseries, since those probably deserve a post of their own.

At-a-glance list:

Miss Sherlock (8 episodes, 2018) (subtext)

Night Light (20 episodes, 2016) (subtext)

Tokusatsu Gagaga (7 episodes, 2019) (subtext)

Painter of the Wind (20 episodes, 2008) (canon?)

She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat (10 15-minute episodes and counting, 2022~) (canon)

Sono Toki, Heart wa Nusumareta (5 episodes, 1992) (canon)

Chaser Game W (10? 30-minute episodes, 2024) (canon)

Doctor X (7 seasons and counting, 2012~) (subtext)

Bonus: SKY Castle (20 episodes, 2018) (subtext)

Summaries under the cut!

1. Miss Sherlock / ミス・シャーロック (8 episodes, 2018) (subtext) – MyDramaList | AsianWiki

The elevator pitch for this show is simple: it’s Sherlock Holmes, but where Holmes and Watson – here named “Sherlock” and Tachibana Wato, and played by Takeuchi Yuko and Kanjiya Shihori, respectively – are both female, and the cases are all set in modern Tokyo. As with other adaptations, mystery-solving and the budding relationship between the two leads takes centre stage, but Miss Sherlock manages to carve out an identity all its own.

There’s a calm beauty to its visuals, which favour sunlight and urban greenery, and the show’s focus on former doctor Wato as she tries out new jobs and goes to therapy means that there’s a surprisingly high number of slice-of-life scenes. It’s also subtly more female-focused than the source material; Sherlock’s gossipy but good-natured landlady Ms. Hatano (Ito Ran) is as much a member of the household as Sherlock and Wato, and the cases often revolve around female characters. But more than anything, it’s just really fun to watch Sherlock and Wato’s relationship bloom as they snip and snipe and are utterly unable to stay out of each other’s space (literally – the body language and blocking is *chef’s kiss*). Their relationship is the heart of the show – watch this one until the end, you won’t regret it!

(CW: psychological abuse, manipulation, and genre-typical murder, violence, and gore)

2. Night Light / 불야성 (20 episodes, 2016) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

(Note: spoilers for the mid-season twist, but it’s impossible to allude to a good portion of the F/F subtext without doing so, and I think knowing the twist ahead of time doesn’t make it any less enjoyable.)

Night Light is a rather odd show. It’s simple enough on the face of it, a story about  successful but ruthless CEO Seo Yi-kyung (an icy Lee Yo-won) who tries to mold the younger Lee Se-jin (a puppy-eyed Uee) in her own ambitious image, only for her protege to develop the conscience she never had and move to stop her dastardly plans… but upon watching it’s a totally different creature,  thanks to the alchemic reactions of some delightfully contradictory acting choices (Uee’s performance convinces viewers less of Se-jin’s supposed latent desire for power and money, and more of a deep love and devotion for the CEO) and the unintentionally (?) inneundo-laden script (“If I like something once, I never forget it– whether it’s a dress… or a person,” declares the CEO less than ten minutes into the first episode while gazing intently at Se-jin).

Honestly, it’s a wonder this series ever got made, but you certainly won’t see me complaining! The first part is full of boss/subordinate goodness; Se-jin is unable to resist the CEO’s magnetic pull despite her hot-and-cold behaviour, while the CEO cannot bring herself to push Se-jin away completely. And then, when Se-jin makes her mind up to stop the CEO, it morphs into a corporate take on a (subtextual) lovers-on-opposite-sides situation, where it is precisely Se-jin’s feelings for the CEO that motivate her to stop her. In short, it’s a workplace GL fan’s dream.

Note: If you do watch it, skip the corporate politicking cutscenes with the old men, you’ll thank me later. Also, there’s a prominent male character who is the CEO’s ex and who works closely with Se-jin in the second half, but don’t worry, all the M/F romance is in the past (and doesn’t get much screentime)– he and Se-jin aren’t interested in each other at all.

3. Tokusatsu Gagaga / トクサツガガガ (7 episodes, 2019) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

Nakamura Kano (Koshiba Fuka) lives and breathes tokusatsu shows (think Power Rangers, if you’re not familiar), but keeps it a secret from her work colleagues to avoid being shunned or laughed at. And yet she yearns for connection, so when she sees a woman on the subway bearing a keychain from her favourite show (Yoshida Hisami, played by Kurashina Kana), she is determined to find her again.

Although ostensibly about being a tokusatsu fan as an adult, this show is rife with queer subtext, and not in the usual way. It deals with the difficulties of staying in the closet (regarding being an adult tokusatsu fan), the desire to connect with other queer people adult tokusatsu fans and how one might do so through hints and signals, parental disapproval arising from gendered and social expectations (that tokusatsu shows are for boys, and magical girl shows for girls), intersectionality and finding comradeship with other minorities people who are excluded due to their interests, and even generational gaps wherein younger queers fans may underestimate the obstacles that still exist. Although all that might sound a bit stressful, it isn’t actually! Difficult incidents are handled with sympathy and a dash of wry humour, and the show never loses sight of the fact that it – above all else – is a story about finding queer community in the face of a heteronormative hostile world, told with warmth and the nuance of lived experience.

4. Painter of the Wind / 바람의 화원 (20 episodes, 2008) (canon?) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

Adapting the novel of the same name by Lee Jung-myung, Painter of the Wind takes as its protagonist a gender-bent version of real-life Joseon-era painter Shin Yun-bok (Moon Geun-young), whose paintings are used to weave a tale of artistry, political intrigue, and romance, and more than anything else to offer modern-day viewers a glimpse of everyday life in 18th-century Korea.

While it may sound like Dickinson’s boring cousin, apart from having a common preoccupation with reframing historical works, another similarity the two shows share is that Painter of the Wind is also very gay. Starting from the first episode, Yun-bok meets and becomes fascinated by the courtesan Jung-hyang (Moon Chae-won), who despite her initial aloofness is drawn to Yun-bok’s intellect and sensitive demeanour. It’s a real meeting of the minds, their witty repartee in early episodes reminiscent of Twelfth Night’s Viola and Olivia, and their relationship isn’t siloed off from the main plot either: Yun-bok’s infatuation quickly starts causing issues with her academic career, and the two eventually have to contend with Jung-hyang’s precarious position as a courtesan as well.

Unfortunately, all this is undermined in the back half of the show, which tries to gaslight viewers into thinking that Yun-bok’s feelings for Jung-hyang were purely platonic all along and that she totally has romantic feelings for her much older male mentor— but hey, at least it’s an open ending. Despite everything, though, I can’t think of another serious historical TV show which features such a prominent F/F narrative for its main character, even nearly two decades later. (Let me know if you have any others! And no, Gentleman Jack doesn’t count, it’s not exactly traditional in style!)

(CW: period-typical sexism)

5. She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat / 作りたい女と食べたい女 (10 15-minute episodes and counting, 2022~) (canon) - MyDramaList

Based on Yuzaki Sakaomi’s manga of the same name, this simple but sweet show follows home-cooking extraordinaire Nomoto Yuki (Higa Manami), who yearns to cook large-scale dishes but doesn’t eat enough to justify making them. Luckily for her, her neighbour Kasuga Totoko (Nishino Emi) has a massive appetite!

It’s always lovely to see more grounded stories about working women, especially when they’re as cute as this one. Though it touches upon some slightly more serious issues, such as with regard to gendered expectations surrounding food and cooking, it’s primarily a feel-good slice-of-life show about two women getting to know each other by cooking and eating delicious food together.

Side note: if you’ve started it and think the show doesn’t look cosy enough, stick it out for a few more episodes, the production values improve after the first part! Also, the series was renewed for a second season with double the episode count (for a total of 20 episodes) which will start airing on January 29th this year, so this is the perfect time to jump in!

6. Sono Toki, Heart wa Nusumareta / その時、ハートは盗まれた (5 episodes, 1992) (canon) - MyDramaList

Sono Heart, as it’s nicknamed, starts off as a typical heteronormative high school romance: bumbling protagonist Shiina Hiroko (Isshiki Sae) is desperate to get closer to her crush Katase Masato (Kimura Takuya), star of the school basketball team and all-round nice dude. However, a spanner in the works comes slouching along in the form of female classmate Aso Saki (Uchida Yuki, in her debut role), a mischievous, short-haired personification of trouble who Katase turns out to have feelings for. One day, Hiroko gets into a fight with Saki, and they end up having to stay together after school as punishment. But that afternoon gives them the opportunity to bond over a heart-to-heart conversation, and things seem to improve… until, just before leaving, Saki kisses Hiroko. And then everything changes.

Or rather, everything changes eventually. What’s great about this show is that it doesn’t take shortcuts: Hiroko doesn’t instantly fall in love with Saki. Instead, what you get is a surprisingly layered portrait of a high school girl whose coming to terms with queerness is merely a natural extension of reckoning with her burgeoning sexuality. And, because Saki is self-destructive in her depression and makes a game of belittling, worrying, and infuriating anyone who cares about her, it’s really a story about what it means to love another person rather than a romantic ideal. A word of warning, though: Katase is actually quite a large character, as he and Hiroko end up becoming friends. Also, the ending is very abrupt and inconclusive, though rest assured that it doesn’t try to roll back Hiroko’s feelings, or pair either girl off with a guy.

(CW: self-harm, attempted suicide, bullying, homophobia, underage drinking)

7. Chaser Game W: Power Harassment Boss Is My Ex-Girlfriend / チェイサーゲームW: パワハラ上司は私の元カノ (10? 30-minute episodes, 2024) (canon) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

Probably jumping the gun here as only two episodes have aired as of writing, but I feel honour-bound to recommend this as it’d probably appeal to a lot of people, if only they knew about it! Chaser Game W is a standalone spin-off of Chaser Game, itself an adaptation of a manga of the same name by Matsuyama Hiroshi and Matsushima Yukitarou, but you don’t need to know anything going in.

Protagonist Harumoto Itsuki (former Keyakizaka46 captain Sugai Yuuka) has been assigned a new job: her company has been asked by a Chinese conglomerate to develop a game adaptation of a GL manhua, and she’s been tapped as the project leader. However, what appears to be an exciting prospect soon becomes a terrifying one, as the person sent by the client to supervise turns out to be her ex-girlfriend from university (Lin Dongyu, played by Japanese actress Nakamura Yurika), who is now married to a Chinese man (played by a Japanese actor) and has a child, but remains hell-bent on exacting revenge on Itsuki for their bad breakup. This is a romantic (melo)drama rather than a psychological thriller, though, so you won’t be watching Itsuki getting terrorised the entire time. While she is understandably upset by her ex’s current behaviour, Itsuki can’t forget about their happy days together, and Dongyu herself veers between being a sneering bully and craving Itsuki’s affection.

Do note that the show isn’t without its flaws: it’s very Japanese about the Chinese thing, which is to say it’s filled with comments which range from somewhat offensive to borderline racist, and the script will probably give you a headache if you know even the slightest thing about game development. Your mileage might vary on the ex too, as she can be really quite nasty to Itsuki and her teammates. But if you can overlook those issues, this is a rare prize indeed: a TV drama focusing on a canonical F/F pair, who are specifically exes, and in a workplace setting.

(CW: bullying)

8. Doctor X / ドクターX (7 seasons and counting, 2012~) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

To be very honest, I was in two minds about including Doctor X on this list. It is, with a few notable exceptions, misogynistic and reductive in its depictions of women (especially in the first two seasons), gives too much screentime to objectively awful and subjectively annoying men, doesn’t respect the work done by medical personnel apart from surgeons, and on the technical front is formulaic, repetitive, and often lazy in its writing and presentation. Unfortunately, the dynamic between the genius surgeon protagonist Daimon Michiko (Yonekura Ryoko) and her anaesthesiologist wife partner friend Jounouchi Hiromi (Uchida Yuki) is almost unparalleled in its excellence.

The premise of the series is basic indeed: Daimon Michiko is a freelance surgeon with a healthy disrespect of rules and authority and, unluckily for her detractors, a cast-iron guarantee that she will succeed in any surgery, no matter how difficult. She’s initially portrayed as a lone wolf who’s dismissive of the entire hospital system and anyone who’s part of it— but her interest is piqued by the anaesthesiologist Jounouchi, who is skilled beyond her peers and chafes against the idiocy of her colleagues. For all its flaws, the first season – which is more serious and edgy in tone compared to the others, and isn’t an ensemble cast like the post-S3 seasons – is a fantastic depiction of two people being perfectly matched in skill, intellect, and outlook, and how they come together despite one being standoffish (Jounouchi) and the other not being used to reaching out to or even respecting other people (Daimon).

The seasons after that sadly ditch the emphasis on Jounouchi being Daimon’s professional equal, but in exchange offer up another rare and unexpected gift: two women in their late thirties / early forties who are partners both at work and in private. Jounouchi is Daimon’s designated anaesthesiologist, assisting with nearly every surgery, and she spends so much time at Daimon’s agency-office-slash-house you’d think she’d moved in. Also, after a point they just start being wonderfully dorky and comfortable with each other, while still being consummate professionals in the operating theatre. Although the show is very much focused on Daimon Michiko as its sole protagonist, Jounouchi is undoubtedly the character most significant to her – even more than Daimon’s father figure, the head of the freelance agency – and this is highlighted in the story from time to time. They are very, very good. I just wish the series was better.

Note: If you’re curious, I would recommend watching the very first episode in full– by the end you should know if you’re invested enough to continue, otherwise drop it and live in the happy knowledge that you dodged a bullet. If you aren’t so lucky, I’d advise skipping the surgery segments when they start to bore, and in general to skip liberally. Also, season 4 is not worth watching as a whole, except for the last two episodes, which absolutely should not be missed. Sigh. I can’t speak to seasons 6 and 7, due to having paused mid-S6.

Side note: If you’ve watched Doctor X already and liked it (or at least like Daimon and Jounouchi), but haven’t tried Miss Sherlock yet, definitely give that a go because there seems to be a big overlap in the fandoms. Maybe it’s because they both feature a genius protagonist, have the two largest female characters being work partners, and domestic vibes…?

(CW: sexism, genre-typical gore)

Bonus: SKY Castle / SKY 캐슬 (20 episodes, 2018) (subtext) - MyDramaList | AsianWiki

(Note: slight spoilers for the early episodes, but it’s necessary in order to give a more accurate recommendation regarding the F/F subtext, especially as the show is not primarily focused on any one relationship.)

This one’s a bonus because unlike the others on this list, there’s no close relationship between two female characters which could be interpreted in a romantic light. That’s not too surprising as the show is all about the women of a several super-wealthy families trying to get their children into the top Korean universities (equivalent to the Ivy League) whilst supporting their husbands in the rat race: a decidedly heteronormative premise, albeit one that’s executed in an award-winning manner.

So why am I listing it? Well, it’s because somehow, in this series about heteronormative and highly gendered nuclear families, it features possibly the most erotically-charged dynamic I have seen, even taking season 1 of Killing Eve into account. (Though it takes some time to get there, so if you try it out, please watch at least the first four episodes before making a decision!)

That honour goes to the problematic gem that is the relationship between the main character Han Seo-jin (Yum Jung-ah), who is willing to do whatever it takes to get her daughter into Seoul’s top medical school, and star tutor Kim Joo-young (Kim Seo-hyung), who is known for her 100% success rate. It starts off with a mild push-and-pull, when Han Seo-jin wants Coach Kim to take on her daughter, but is wary of the shady rumours surrounding her; the tutor stands firm, and Han eventually has to swallow her pride and accept the risks. Where it really comes into its own, though, is when Coach Kim starts to pose a legitimate threat to everything Han cares for: her daughter, her marriage (or rather, what her husband can give her), her position in the world. It becomes increasingly clear that Han should just walk away, and indeed she tries to do so many a time, only to bend in the end because the coach is key to fulfilling her dearest wish– and so to Han, for all she rages and resents and fears, Coach Kim is nothing less than temptation itself. This is the beating core of the show, and even as the plotting disintegrates and falls into melodrama in the second half, their scenes together still crackle with delicious tension every time. Watch it.

(CW: suicide, psychological abuse, child abuse, bullying, murder)