#i think this is my best digital drawing so far am i wrong

[the-ren-and-stimpy-fan-club]

Happy belated birthday Stimpson J. Cat!!!!

[rottenhashira]

Hiyaaa~~~ 🎋

I’m Alex or Ly.

I go by any pronouns.

This acc is 18+. Even if its just to focus on a kny AU, it will contain smut or suggestive drawings.

I’m a digital artist and an inexperienced writer(for fun!)

KNY only! Not spoiler free!

STATUS: HOLD

Rot Hashira is an AU made by myself, I am just one person working on this au so content might be slow.

This is just a resumed version, there’s so much more to the story and lore of this au which will be told with art pieces. Plz be patient 🎋🪷

The AU takes place right after Tanjiro Kamado(Sun Hashira defeat Muzan with the help of the kamaboko squad, which are Hashira aswell(I would like to mention that NONE of them are minors, they’re all adults in this au).

Once Kamado defeated Muzan, the ghost of Yorichii appears before Tanjiro and only he can see him. Yorichii shows Kamado a vision of the future, that this war was not finish but it could be if he takes action right here and now. Kamado thinks he is ready for his last task but only if he knew…

Yorichii’s ghost guided the young hashira to the place of his mission leaving the others behind to rest, the hashira comes to a stop in front of a deserted cabin not so far from the battle field he just been in. Once Kamado realized that his final enemy lies behind this door, he took a deep breath in to prepare his lungs since this enemy won’t run away and its unlike anyone he has faced before…

An infant rested in the cabin, in a well clean wooden crib. A baby girl to be exact, dark long hair, tiny, sharp nails and ruby red eyes with a slit in the middle similar to the ones of a cat’s pupils. “Its just an infant… its just a girl… what sort of image and threat does she poised that I cannot avoid?…” Kamado looked at the infant in awe as Yorichii’s ghost stand beside the crib leaning over it “This is non other the offspring of the demon king, Muzan. Know that she’ll grow from a girl to an avenger, one fueled with vengeance once come of age… if you don’t end it now you wont have no one to save.. you can say goodbye to Nezuko, your friends… your family..”

Kamado quickly dropped his blade and took the infant on his arms to comfort her “I can raise it as my own! I’ll take her far from home! I’ll make sure her past is never known! Please I’m on my knees for you!” The sun hashira begged on his knees to Yorichii’s ghost who looked down at him in disappointment.

“Please dont make me do this Yorichii! Please there has to be another way, please guide me!” Kamado yelled with tears in his eyes, he could only picture his younger siblings in this infant… he just couldn’t..

“Young Kamado… I apologize. It seemed I’ve chosen the wrong soul for the task.” Those wore Yorichii’s last words before vanishing, leaving the sun hashira alone with the infant.

Kamado decided it was best to escape from everyone and everything he knew. He took the infant and ran, ran till his legs failed him, till his lungs ached in pain, far… please so far..

Kamado’s heart ached at the fact he had to leave his friends and famiky behind with out a goodbye. He left behind the Rengoku family, the man who adopted him and his sister, who gave him a family to call his. The love of his life, Kanao… even tho she kept rejecting him, he loved her with everything he got. His best friends, Zenitsu and Inosuke, brothers at this point, he couldn’t congrats him on his 3rd happy marriage. The reason he even became a demon slayer, Nezuko… he hated he couldn’t tell her anything or even leave her a letter, he hated he couldn’t congratulate her on her second child with her new husband Muichiro…

Tanjiro took the infant far, so far, a journey that took him a month to reach to. He took her to a mountain house he bought, the house was very similar to the one he lived when he was a child. He decided to call the infant “Hina” which meant sun or bright! She was his sun, Hina gave him the opportunity to live a tamed lifestyle he craved, he loved Hina like if she was his.

Years passed and Hina grew up like a well taken care of Framboyán tree. You couldn’t even guess she was the daughter of such cruel man like Muzan, she was a kind soul thanks to her father, Tanjiro. Kamado was luckily abled to give her an animal based diet like him and since they were a small family, they had lotz of time together so he taught her sun breathing, the fire dance his father passed down to him and he passed down his ear rings to her.

Years passed and they lived happily together until one night… a young looking hashira found them. The hashira had a white haori and bells decorated his sandal’s back, he had long pointy fox ears which were pierced with bells and red ribbons, he also had a fox tail… he was a demon? A demon as a hashira? Who?…

Kamado’s heart raced knowing exactly why he was here, kamado reached to a certain age where his skills were now failing him so he couldn’t do much but that didn’t brought him down, he will protect his daughter.

The demon hashira paused dropping his figthing stance “Tanjiro?…” the hashira let out with a curios tone. “Tanjiro is that really you? Its me! Sabito! We used to be partners in the demon slayer corp!” Sabito let out rushing closer to him, he circled him to inspect him from head to toe. “Look at you! You’re not so bad for an old man!” Sabito let out with a friendly chuckle until he took a good sniff.

“Tanjiro, you smell… different.”

//skipping catching up details

The fox friend could sniff a smell, it wasn’t putrid or terrible like demons commonly have… in the contrary, it was a scent of vanilla, he didn’t knew how to put it but it was a tamed smell… so comforting and relaxing but it had a strong hint of power, the smoke before the forest fire…

Sabito stepped in between Tanjiro and his house in a defensive posture to protect his old friend. A young lady walked out the door, her face expressed concern for her Tanjiro, her irises glow a ruby red just like Muzan’s and this shocked Sabito. Sabito’s hands trembled around his blade’s handle as a soft growl sneaked up his throat “I thought we killed you! You’re like a fucking plague!” The river kitsune spit with venom.

Tanjiro quickly stepped in between them to ease Sabito, Sabito didn’t backed down realizing that Tanjiro was defending this beautiful young woman who was clearly a demon, Muzan. Tanjiro was now considered as an enemy, betrayal... both of them broke into a fight to the death, Tanjiro had the advantage with his sun breathing technique but before he could slash Sabito’s neck he had flashbacks of their friendship so Kamado redirected his blade away from his throat, slashing some hair off Sabito. Sabito took this as an open door and used his demon blood art to leave a serious deep injury on Tanjiro’s chest with heavy pressured water.

Hina saw it all, she rushed to her father aid in terror, she cover him trying to protect him as her tears rushed in. Tanjiro made sure to comfort her in his last moments… “please… promise me you won’t eat human flesh… never.” Hina nodded in confusion as she cried hysterically begging Tanjiro to stay with her as Sabito was shocked seeing a demon with Muzan’s blood pump in their veins protecting a human.

Once Tanjiro’s hand became weak, Hina was fueled with anger and vengeance, Hina aimed her hand to Sabito as her arm’s veins were turning blood red, her nails becoming longer as her mouth drooled. Sabito’s eyes widen as he felt his internal organs moving, his blood was moving to places it shouldn’t, his body didn’t respond to him, this body wasn’t his anymore… blood rushed up his throat, every exit in his body was leaking a concerning amount of blood as his veins pop through his flesh.

Tanjiro reunited enough strength to hold her arm, this made her drop everything she was doing and attend her dying father, her focus was on only him. “Please don’t… I-I’ll wait for you Hina… I’ll always be with you…” Kamado dropped his hand as he took his final breath in Hina’s arms, Hina cradled her hold man’s corpse, her cries filled the forest and Sabito was no where to be found.

“Hashiras huh?…” the voice of a man was herd in the darkness of the forest. Two glowing orbs appeared, rainbow colored that coexisted just right in his irises.. a demon.

“What do you want?.” Hina growled as she just finished her father’s grave.

“I want to help you… princess…” The white kitsune grinned extending his arm to her.

Credits:

Teeth Divider: @//mmadeinheavenn

Art: @//rottencoreflesh101

Story inspiration:

[direwombat]

tagged by @inafieldofdaisies, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @roofgeese, and @baldurrs to list 5-10 songs that relate to my otp <3 &lt;3 <3

tagging: @adelaidedrubman, @strangefable, @strafethesesinners, @fourlittleseedlings, @kittiofdoom, @sukoshimikan, @confidentandgood, @detectivelokis, @sstewyhosseini, @aceghosts, @poetikat, and anyone else wanting to share their playlists for their otp (but no pressure <;3)

— r: define your meaning of war [main playlist here]

songs under the cut because baby's LONG -- first three are vaguely from syb's pov, the next three from jacob's, and the last three are mutual feelings &lt;3

heaven or hell - digital daggers

I've got the same deep wounds as you, My love can double as a weapon too Say that you trust it and I'll set it free Turn it back on me Turn it back on me

We trade our secrets when it's safe Our ammunition when the fever breaks Show me the side no one else sees Turn it back on me Turn it back on me

I am exposed, I am undone You tear the walls down one by one We tried to run, we tried to hide in fear of losing ourselves We tried to keep it all inside so we don't hurt someone else When all the demons come alive I'll still be under your spell, This could be heaven or hell This could be heaven or hell

blindfold - sleeping wolf

In the dark I need to taste the blood Go on Draw another line we can cross this time Battle scars Your touch is not enough I need you to pierce my Veins and become my pain

So use your blindfold Cover your hands on my eyes, closed Do it again Tie me up and show me what's real Hate your love, but love how you feel Useless, trying to fight And the truth is, I'd rather be blind I'd rather be blind

not strong enough - apocalyptica + brent smith

I'm not strong enough to stay away I can't run from you I just run back to you Like a moth, I'm drawn into your flame You say my name But it's not the same

You look in my eyes I'm stripped of my pride And my soul surrenders And you bring my heart to its knees

And it's killing me when you're away And I wanna leave, and I wanna stay And I'm so confused, so hard to choose Between the pleasure and the pain And I know it's wrong, and I know it's right Even if I try to win the fight My heart would overrule my mind And I'm not strong enough to stay away

i know i'm a wolf - young heretics

Dear rabbit, my legs are getting weak chasing you The snow fields wouldn't seem so big if you knew That this blood on my teeth it is far beyond dry And I've captured you once but I wasn't quite right So I'm telling you that you'll be safe with me.

on your knees - matthew mayfield

Such a disgrace Thе way the vengeance tastes Best served cold But it's the heat I crave

Took the fall but Learned to crawl up the highest prison wall Yeah, doing my best to keep you pressed In a sunken chest

This is the way to life This is the way to die Darling, I hope you, see what I go through But I ain’t gonna leave you on your knees This is where the love counts Covered in the breakdown I ain’t gonna leave you on your knees No, I ain’t gonna leave you on your knees

afterlife - nothing but thieves

You can tell your God he can keep his salvation And if you like, the angels can fly into the sun We don't, we don't have to do this again Please don't, please don't make me start this again

It was only ever you It was only ever you My baby, it feels like a lifetime Oh God, I don't think I could do two

My soul is tortured with love and lust and hate My cracked lips are unkissed for a million days My infected heart, it's bleeding in this cage I'm losing my dignity, not got long left to wait

iris - diamante + breaking benjamin

And I'd give up forever to touch you 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be And I don't want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment And all I can breathe is your life And sooner or later, it's over I just don't wanna miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am

marked for death - emma ruth rundle

it was right that we did meet each other in each other’s eyes it was right that we did see each other in our shadow sides it was wrong then too that crazy love, loves crazy as it does and each of us and both of us so crazy; as it was

who else is going to love someone like you that’s marked for death who else is going to be with you when you breathe your last who else is going to take my place and hold and keep you safe/sane who else is going to stay

somebody to die for - hurts

I've got nothing left to live for Got no reason yet to die But when I'm standing in the gallows I'll be staring at the sky

Because no matter where they take me In death I will survive And I will never be forgotten With you by my side

Cause I don't need this life I just need...

Somebody to die for

[fellty]

More tests- some thoughts under the cut

I'm giving traditional a shot after reading "Rapid Commuter Underground" - it's very good! It's a comic that makes me want to make comics without alienating me from the actual making of comics. By contrast I feel myself going "Hey that looks like fun! Let me give that a try!"

I got diagnosed with ADHD in 2021. I think when it's managed best, it pushes me to explore what I love most - but at it's worst, I'm sensitive to what feels "bad". When I got my first tablet in 2008, I felt keenly aware of how bad the tablet felt. It was glossy, the pen felt wrong in my hand, and the brushes felt like part of me was missing. But I figured it'll get easier and it did - and didn't.

Today the sensation feels like a mitten. Some brushes let me ignore the mitten more than others. Some days the mitten feels very unignorable no matter what - it takes up my whole focus with the feeling of "wrong" that it produces. It becomes past a haptic mitten and into a cognitive one - I don't want to explore here, it's uncomfortable. I want to be done. I'll just rush this part.

I do like digital art, but I think some of my bigger successes have been in programs like MSPaint and AZpainter. I'm not sure what it is about that program but the mitten is probably the most reduced there. I think it's partially because MSP is fairly upfront in telling you what it will and will not do very quickly. When I use AZP, I'm pretending it's MSP with layers.

Anyways, giving traditional a try surprised me with how comfortable I am living in it, even for a quick test. I feel curious about what I can do with it, and where I can take it. An urge to explore is there, and I'm not rushing out of discomfort (though, habitually, I still do). It feels good.

Penciling and painting was most fun, and then inking was unpleasant, but not as unpleasant as digital inking can be. It felt like i was using the wrong tool, though became committed to finishing it with the wrong tool.

So far the largest obstacle to this approach seems to be photographing and inking. Not bad, it feels manageable.

My priority when making things tends to be how good it felt to make it, then if it makes me happy to look at. When the latter becomes the priority, the process of making it usually becomes miserable. Though, I suppose it's because within the priority of "makes me happy to look at," somehow the question "will it make other people happy to look at?" sneaks in. I already know how to draw things that make me happy, because usually when the line goes down i'm choosing things that make me happy naturally - but it's easy to doubt that in the fog of displacing someone elses wants into your own.

This's gotten long, whew. Thanks for reading.

[seahdalune]

Seana’s 2020 art highlights (a thread)

(Note: this is a reupload of a thread i did on twitter a few years back. so these are really old.)

January: i didn’t draw anything complete that month.... closest thing i could find to finished is this art i made of my OC, Angelord. man. remember when i drew my OCs? [2023 note: it's..... funny you say that. you would try to start up an original comic for the entirety of next year.... not that it ever came to fruition.]

February: i finished Link’s Awakening that month. i drew Marin bc i thought she was cute. i wish i could get motivated to draw fanart of recent video games i finished more... this is probably the last proper traditional art i made this year... after this, it’s mostly digital.

March: look. i’m attempting anatomy... and i failed lol. i remember being like “how do you draw woman” after drawing this... i mean. i still wanna know how to draw woman, so i guess i haven’t changed lol. [2023 note: I STILL DONT KNOW HOW TO DRAW WOMEN]

April: wait NVM here’s another traditional piece i made this year. he was an adoptable i made... but nobody was interested in them so he’s with me for now. i’ll try and redesign them, either to sell them or to keep him. [2023 note: i never sold this guy.... i was lazy and nobody values points these days. probs for the best because scamming children with virtual coins is probably not a good idea lmao. at the same time, i wish there was an easy way to buy and sell designs+commissions without having to get a credit card or paypal or something.]

May: another month where i didn’t draw anything. buuut i did some plush sketches to reference so das dat. [2023 note: you'll probably be able to name most charas here, but who's the guy i drew the most? that's Matteo, he's a little pink vampire and i made him through Gatcha Life.]

June: ah. the month where i started digital art. this was fanart for my friend’s OC. i didn’t know a lot of features of digital art so it looks like shit LOL not the first digital art i made ever, but it might as well be. [2023 note: i actually received my tablet around 2018, but i never had time to draw on it because i had 1 hour of screentime every day. this restriction was finally lifted in 2020 (because online classes) and i finally had time to venture out into the world of digital art...]

July: i made a lot of stuff this month, but to shorten the list... i finished the plush of my OC, Matteo. i wanna make another plushie... maybe with Suitcase.

this was also the month i joined the OSC... oh hell. it’s been 6 months?? [2023 note: 2 YEARS BITCH. ITS GONNA BE YOUR 3RD ANNIVERSARY if i didn't get so tired and started to hate the community so much.]

August: ...ergh. lets get over with this month quickly... Object OCs this. Object OCs that.

occasional Algebians.

i do not like the art here... it really shows that i’ve improved. ok let’s get outta here. [2023 note: i fucking despise the person who asked me why "they were old" to my humanizations of the Dangos. this is why i refuse to join another public server ever again and might have contributed to the delay of my human drawing skills.]

September: lots of Taco II. i seriously liked her a lot. still do, but the love is a bit more spread out between characters.

oh. and i watched ONE that month. cool.

October: i finally found a style that i could weld. hooyah.

don’t ask why i drew my friend as a cat maid... i thought it was funny ok.

September: the month of gift art. nothing else to say, but i like the thin lines. yes, ‘thin’. ...god i need to think of better things to say. [i would then realize i said the wrong month, and unlike tumblr, i cannot edit tweets once published, so my only option was to delete the whole thing and start over. or just say this:] did i just say September... oh for fucks- no i am not fixing this i’m already tired of this just imagine i said November ok

December: best art of this year so far (doh) nothing to say. just... happy that i improved. can’t wait to improve even more.

[hey look! i was in the 2020 JnJ christmas video! thats me! me!!]

aaand, that’s all for this year! man, i thought i was done with improvement. i can’t believe i proved myself wrong. usually other people do that for me lol. lets see if i can disprove myself again in 2021.

[maplepalette]

Vanilla Bean Energy - A Speedy First Term

Well, I am officially in my last 2 weeks of my first term in 2D animation. That blew by so fast!

I began this course October 3rd of 2023, I have been hard at work for the past 59 days (yes we're being exact with that) and I already feel myself improving!

Firstly I would like to share my Youtube with you all! I have been posting all my latest animations there! Of course they aren't incredible, entertaining, or beautiful works like Helluvaboss or The Amazing Digital Circus (Both are incredible by the way! go check them out!). However I think sharing my beginner level work is important! That way when I look back, I'll be able to see how much I've improved! You can find my channel here or look up Haileythemoose on Youtube!

Now back on track!

My course at CATO is very compressed. We have class 7 days a week with classes ranging from 3 - 6 hours a day. On average we're looking at doing 7 assignments a week. This includes life drawing, classical animation, digital painting, and professional growth. I will admit, it's been a lot to take on, yet I still push forward!

I wanted to make a post today to show you guys all the amazing work I've done this term! Well not ALL, But the ones I'm most proud of! You can view all my work on my Instagram!

I never realized how much I struggled with anatomy and posing until taking this class. over the last 2 months my art has improved a ton! I look back at my old art and I can see exactly what I was doing wrong.

Makes me want to try remaking some of my old art <3

(Line art NOT done by me)

(Line art NOT done by me)

(Line art NOT done by me)

I may not be the best at digital art, but I am improving. However I have found that I'm pretty good at graphic design and photoshop! That might be a good career to look into if art and animation don't work out... eh let's not lean on that!

Due to Tumblr's upload limit I cannot show all of my animations on this blog. You can check out this google drive folder with all my term 1 animations on it, though! These can also be found on my Youtube channel!

But to give you a taste! Here's my latest animation (finished today!) of a flour sack! The goal was to give it some personality!

I'm so happy to be in this course and am so excited to continue learning and growing as an artist and animator! I'm so proud of my work thus far and I'm so happy to see that what I'm learning is reflected in my personal projects!

Now lets get cozy, make a mug of hot cocoa, and get ready for the holidays! only 2 weeks left until winter break! Lets give it our all!!

[deoffal-mp-adm7000-n-s1-2022]

Prototype black space test (Digitally edited photos of the first mock):

Here are some simple edits of my mock exhibition photographs, I edited them with a simple preinstalled painting tool that comes with the image editing software, typically for marking up a photo, I instead have used it to censor the white here to great effect, I already prefer the black background and can see it taking off as a successful image in public material, especially once the lights are on and the the whites of each piece make the spiral more obscurely visible and natural against the abyss behind it, all I would need in reality is a deeply matt black paint, maybe even a Black 2.0 from Stuart Semple’s range to really get the most blackest background, in attempt to work similarly to Anish Kapoor when considering how important a good black can be when doing an installation, but that may be too rich for my blood as of yet so I’ll have to do my research into paint choices for now. This black being cited here for research purposes:

https://culturehustle.com/products/black-v1-0-beta-the-world-s-mattest-flattest-blackest-art-material?variant=41435474657438

(This black being chosen as it’s somewhat more cheaper and accessible to an individual such as myself, compared to 3.0, it’s just slightly easier to get hold of too)

I’m only making this a post in of itself after a conversation with Mona about the idea of changing the background to a black one to give the show even more bite, this is highly understandable as noted in the last post due to how the pieces would always have a white spiral between them and this may draw the eye a little too much and just be the wrong kind of off putting. I am doing my best to consider this argument and with limited time and no time like the present I have done these mocks to save doing too many large scale tests in a physical space with black paint as that would lose me a day and only need to be changed for the final show anyway, as my final installation placement is far from being agreed upon as I write these notes. The whitish box to the side of my mock would be where the caption sign and business card box would be, something I’ll dedicate time to closer to the show as all I’ll need to do is make a small housing box for my limited edition cards and next to it on some cheap and easy to acquire board, my authorship and a simplified artist statement or description of the installation, maybe even a mesh of the two, I am still yet to name this installation, as I don’t want to copy Junji Ito and call it “Uzumaki” but a simple enough title and representation in my own tongue would be just as good, maybe something cited from Lovecraft or even from uzumaki, either way I’m sure it’ll come to me soon enough and seldom need over complicating due it’s simple design in reality. The varying angles chosen for this post are to keep the importance of seduction on the table, I want the installation to hook people from an empty, crowded, low lighted, bright lighted and abandoned room altogether, that’s the power of achromaticity and the draw of the whites in each piece, it really has the potential to snare the audience in a room of coloured art works and brown floorboards, simply because it’s just so extra-terrestrial and abhuman, uncanny even for a contemporary art show to have such a mixture of a simple black background and ornate heavily detailed portraits layered over the top of it, it has an alternative and underground quality that I think really helps to light it off the wall, all I would need is a black paint strong enough to really add to this effort and allow the works to really stand out in the overall showcase, that would have to be the greatest and least exciting part of setting up the show. Having a black background just naturally looks so much more drawing and unconsciously mysterious, like something out of the twilight zone opening atmosphere, that of a somewhat cosmic connection made far more relevant for the use of black in the background, black and white being the two principles of the installation itself and so it would be rotten of me not to really make the most of this opportunity not to get the right black. With the background absorbing the light and with a proper rejig of the lights at the top of the installation I’m sure I could light the entire spiral and really pop my portraits off the wall, here’s hoping I can do some more mocks in my new test space and give even more proper coverage to this current challenge of mine. 

[softjakehoon]

Can We Pretend?

Pairing: Idol Jay/Reader

Warnings: Smut. For 18+ only, minors dni.

Includes: Corruption kink, friends with benefits, protected sex, squirting, mild choking, slight biting, rough sex.

Authors note: I might edit this later. I apologize for any errors, I wrote this at 5 am instead of sleeping. Lmao.

------

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, in case you wanted to back down. 

You were watching a drama just a couple of minutes ago when he kissed you by surprise. You remember teasing him and questioning his innocence because of a scene in the drama where the main leads were hugging before having sex for the first time. 

Your brain stopped functioning for a while to remember how it all came to this. 

"Pft. Who the fuck hugs before having sex?" You almost choked on your drink out of laughter. 

"Why? Isn't that a normal thing for couples?" Jay asked you with innocence plastered on his face. 

"Are you being serious? You.. don't tell me you're still a virgin?" You were so shocked that you had to pause the drama you're both watching. 

"What's wrong with being a virgin? Also, you already know I haven't dated anyone in my life, why are you so shocked?" His lips pouting cutely as he argued.

"But that was 3 years ago, Jay. You're literally 21 now, you need to get laid." You teased him out of habit. A sting of pain suddenly grazing your heart at the thought of your best friend on someone else's bed.

"As if I have the time for that. Besides, I can't just hook up with anyone. I have a reputation to protect as an idol." He's right, you nodded in response. A sudden thought crossing your mind. 

"Wait a minute, how do you release tension then? Do you just get off by yourself or?" Your face inspecting his eyes closely for some hint. "Don't tell me you don't jack off either?" You were beyond shocked by his blank expression, showing no sign of guilt at all. 

"Holy shit, how do you even do that? You poor thing." You taunted him. 

"Enough, y/n. I'm fine, I have a lot of ways to release stress. Unless, you want to offer yourself to help." Jay knew he wasn't thinking straight when he said this but he maintained his cool and unbothered expression to see how you would react. 

"You want us to be fuck buddies, is that it? Fine, I'll help you." You weren't sure why you agreed without giving it a second thought. But you know deep inside you've been in love with Jay for 6 years already. For all those years, you tried so hard not to be overly affectionate and clingy to the boy you liked the most--in fear of him drifting away from you. You wanted to be someone constant in his life, someone he can go to whenever he needs someone to lean on. You wanted to be his soulmate. 

You've done a great job so far, but you're not sure anymore. How the hell are you going to manage pretending from now on? When you're overly sentimental and you tend to give meaning to every single thing he does. 

"What? How can you agree so fast?" He jokingly covered his mouth, pretending to be shocked. 

"What? Do you want me to take it back? It's not like this is my first time having sex anyway." You tried to act cool as much as possible, pretending that this setup isn't that much of a big deal at all. 

"Right. I'm not. But you're gonna be my first." You're almost sure he sounded hurt when he said that while looking deeply in your eyes. 

You couldn't resist it anymore. You wanted to be the one to erase his innocence but you were surprised when he kissed you first. 

You couldn't honestly tell if this is his first kiss or not because he's definitely good at it. 

You pulled away out of shock. You didn't expect him to be this good since you thought he's just gonna go for a quick peck. He looked confused at your reaction.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, in case you wanted to back down. 

"No. No, I was just shocked. I thought you were just gonna go with a quick peck, that's all." For some reason you can't look directly in his eyes. You're sure of it. If you do, you're gonna fall for him again, like you always do. 

"Well, we're not gonna go further with just a peck, right? Stop acting so shy, I thought you're gonna help me." He lifted your chin using his thumb, your eyes meeting in parallel. 

"You sure about this, Jay? I mean, I may get clingy after all of this. You know how sensitive I get. I tend to feel a lot of emotions." You warned him, followed by a fake laugh to ease the tension. You wanted to give him an idea of what could happen at least. 

"Then, don't. We're just using each other for sex, keep that in mind." You're aware he didn't mean to hurt you by this. He was just stating the obvious--drawing the line between the two of you for safety precaution. But this hurts, and you wanted him to take the pain all away, even just for a while. 

You kissed him roughly in frustration. He picked up your pace quickly, he really is a fast learner, you thought. And his lips, they're small and cute but they felt so damn good on yours. You grabbed his face, feeling every inch of his jawline, circling your fingertips on the mark on his neck. You looked deep into his eyes before gently sucking on it. He moaned at the contact, grabbing a fistful of your hair gently and pulling you back to a kiss. 

"Don't leave marks, y/n. I have a photoshoot tomorrow." He said, firmly. 

"Too bad. Wanted to fucking mark you as proof of getting your virginity taken." You chuckled. 

"Let me mark you instead, then. Proof that I let you take it." He whispered into your ear, biting into it gently, and kissing your neck while sucking on your skin up to your cleavage. 

You moaned from the sensation. You're already melting from his touch, you couldn't help but to rub your thighs together, wanting some kind of pleasure on your core as soon as possible. 

"Jay, I want your cock in me so bad." You whined, desperate to feel him inside of you. You palmed his cock inside his shorts, pulling it out. This is your first time seeing your best friend's dick and it was prettier than you imagined it would be. And you always thought he would be huge, but this doesn't even compare to the one in your dreams. The length, the girth, the tip of his cock, all red from arousal, leaking with precum already. Your mouth is watering from the sight. 

You couldn't help it. You dropped on your knees, eyes levelled to his crotch. You pumped his dick with your small hands, earning a gasp from him. You circled your tongue in his tip, gathering all the precum in it before fully deep throating him. He let out a growl this time, surprised by your sudden action. "Fuck, y/n. That's it, your mouth feels so good." You hummed in his dick, sending vibrations to his senses. You kept bobbing your head up and down, making sure to go as deep as you can, his tip hitting your throat making you slightly gag. You pulled it out for a moment to spit on it, and put it back inside your mouth, sucking him sloppily.

"Fuck, y/n. I'm close, keep going." Your jaw is starting to hurt a little, but you wanted to taste him so bad. You continued sucking him off while cupping his balls, massaging them gently. 

"Fuck, I'm cumming." He tried to get you off of him but you wrapped your arms around his thighs, pulling him closer. His cock, burying in your throat even deeper as he cummed. You looked up to him, eyes closed and mouth open from the pleasure. His head tilted back, and his hair slightly wet from sweat. The view of him from below caused a pool of wetness in your core. You milked him dry and swallowed his load without hesitation. 

"Shit, y/n. That's just.. insane. Come here, I wanna taste you too." He helped you get up, both of you smiling from ecstasy. 

You sat up on the couch, your thighs closed involuntarily trying to hide your arousal. "Can I?" He looked into your eyes, asking for permission if he could eat you out like a gentleman that he is. 

"Y-yes." You shyly answered. This is the first time someone is getting down on you after all. Your ex never liked foreplay and always went on ahead with penetration every single time that it hurts most of the time. Nervous of what's to come, you covered your face with your hands, not wanting him to see your state. 

"Let me see your pretty face, y/n. I wanna see how good I'm making you feel." He grabbed your wrist and placed your hand on his head, giving you something to hold on to while he flicks his tongue in your clit. He looked at you, your head tilted on the side, your mouth open releasing soft moans. He took the chance to put two fingers in your mouth, making you suck on them only to put them inside your cunt. He continued thrusting his fingers in and out while licking and sucking your bud, driving you insane from the pleasure, your arousal dripping down his chin generously. 

You grabbed his hair firmly as you focused on reaching your climax, clenching on his fingers. "Jay, I.. I'm gonna cum." You're almost out of breath at this point. 

He curled his fingers, hitting your g-spot several times that had you squirting around his digits. He eased you from your high, fucking your hole with his tongue and sucking on your juices. He looked up to you with lust all written in his face. His cheeks and chin, all wet and covered with your scent. 

"I always knew you'd taste good. Though I didn't know you're a squirter." He chuckled and sat on the couch. 

"Shut up. It's because it felt too good." You got up and climbed on his lap. He grabbed your ass to spread them and began kissing you again. The taste of his cum and yours both mixing in your mouth as you kiss him back. You began grinding at his erection, coating his length with your juices as he guided you by your waist. 

You're getting impatient at this point, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you. You felt Jay searching for something in the corner of the couch, eventually bringing out a condom. 

"Why do you have that there?" You asked him, curious if he knew this would happen. 

"The boys left it here just in case. Didn't know I'd be the one to use it though." He tore the packaging and started rolling it down to the base of his cock. 

"You're such a good boy, aren't you?" You smiled at him.

"I don't think so." He whispered in your ear and bit your jaw, leaving a slight mark. You moaned a little bit louder this time. Surprised that it didn't hurt at all. "Aren't you such a pain slut? You're getting turned on by that? Huh?" His voice is so deep and velvety, making you clench your walls on nothing.

You started positioning yourself in his cock, slowly sinking down while biting your lip. He gasped from the unfamiliar sensation when he felt his tip enter you. You made sure to bottom all the way down, training your cunt to adjust to his size. 

"Shit. Move for me, baby. Be a good girl and ride my cock." He's holding you by your waist, pinning you down roughly. 

"Fuck, Jay. Your cock is so deep in me." You continued bouncing up and down, grinding back and forth on his cock from time to time whenever your legs would start to get tired.

Jay sensed that you’re starting to slow down so he started thrusting deep and sloppily into your core. You tried to meet his every thrust, biting your lips to keep yourself from screaming.

“Jay, I’m close.” He wrapped his right hand on your neck gently, while his left hand stayed at your waist. You're left at his mercy at this point. He’s in charge of the moment, giving you a smack on your ass as he growls from the intense pleasure.

“Cum for me, y/n.” With a couple of thrusts, you reached your orgasm, your walls convulsing around Jay’s cock that sent him to the edge as well.

He stayed inside you for a moment as both of you tried to catch your breath and then he pulled out after, discarding the condom in the trash bin.

He helped you get up and prepared a warm bath for you to enjoy. He knows that both of you just entered a complicated situation but he doesn’t regret it. As long as he’s with you, nothing else matters. 

[mossy-rainfrog]

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Martin and Jon in season 1 of the Magnus Archives. Martin is seen out in the archives hallway, through the doorway to Jon’s office. Martin a fat Black man with short coily hair, round glasses, and snake bite lip piercings. He wears a blue sweater over a white collared shirt, and carries a brown satchel with him. Martin is looking over his shoulder with interest as he walks into work, and in a smaller panel to the side, we see Jon watching him with wide eyes. Jon is a thin Persian person with long greying hair tied back in a low bun, and rectangular glasses. He wears a red button down underneath a brown jacket, and is seated at the desk in his office. He stares out at Martin, looking flustered. There are small lines by Martin’s mouth indicating the piercings, and there are exclamation marks by Jon’s head indicating his reaction. End ID.]

I found an old fic in my notes about Martin dressing alt/punk outside of work and accidentally leaving on a small indicator of his usual fashion when he comes into the archives and I just. had to bring it back. Also, because I am still fond of it, please enjoy the aforementioned fic🥰:

Jon is having a difficult morning, to say the least. He had believed that coming into work an entire hour early would provide him with ample time to get a head start on today’s organizing, but that has decidedly not been case. He’s already had to take the statements of two utterly ridiculous liars who could barely keep the grins off of their faces as they recounted their ludicrous tale, and then listen to Elias subsequently dress down his so-called ‘attitude towards patrons’ for nearly half an hour, and suffice it to say, he would really like to get started on something that is actually worth his time.

He dislikes settling down with the more... difficult statements before all of his colleagues arrive, an attempt to keep them from interrupting his recordings to greet him, so once he’s finished his other menial tasks, he finds himself simply sitting and waiting for the ensemble of his assistants to arrive.

Tim and Sasha are the first - entering together as usual after having stopped for coffee on the way in - but Martin is slow to follow, taking nearly another fifteen minutes to arrive. It’s nearly ten past seven at that point, and once Jon hears Martin’s steps coming towards his office, he has half a mind to give the man yet another lecture on punctuality and work ethic. He gets as far enough as bracing his hands on the table to stand up, and then Martin appears in the doorway to his office, and he realizes something strikingly different about his appearance.

That is to say, Jon’s whole world narrows down very suddenly to the little black studs decorating the space underneath his bottom lip.

He’s staring, he knows he is, but Martin is busy looking down the hall for the moment, so Jon doesn’t force himself to tear his eyes away just yet. How long has he had his lip pierced, Jon wonders? Has it been there the whole time he’s known him? Has he only recently gotten it done? How? Why?

It’s hard to imagine Martin - soft, unassuming Martin who is far too large for the amount of space he crams himself into, always slouching, always pulling himself inwards as if he can make himself disappear - dressing in any way other than soft sweaters and slacks, but if Jon’s honest, he’s never actually seen the man outside of work. He has no idea how Martin chooses to dress himself when out from under the Institute’s rigid dress code, and this tiny window he’s been provided with is making him maddeningly curious.

He’s not... he doesn’t have feelings for Martin, aside from a general annoyance, occasionally marked with curiosity. He’s a professional, for God’s sake, not to mention that Martin’s very existence as a given is like a grain of sand in his eye, rubbing and irritating. Now he cuts clean through without even noticing. Jon itches to know more.

“Jon?” Martin’s voice tears him from his thoughts. “Is something wrong?”

Oh, shit. Jon can feel his gaze heat up as if he’s done something horribly wrong - how embarrassing that he can’t even keep a blush off of his face - but he still forces himself to open his mouth and stutter out an excuse. He means to remark on one of Martin’s missing reports, or the fact that he’s coming in nine minutes late, but what ends up leaving his mouth is; “Your lip is pierced.”

Just a sentence, not a question. He thinks he’s positively beet red. Martin freezes, the tips of his ears darkening visibly against his brown skin as his hand shoots to his mouth and his eyes widen.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I must have forgotten to take them out,” the poor man looks like he’s about to panic as he whips his gaze around as if to see if anyone else has noticed. “Don’t tell Elias, please, I’ve seen how he gets after Tim for the dress code, and there is no way, I mean no way—”

“Oh, n-no, it’s- I- it’s fine, really,” Jon raises his hands in defense as Martin rambles, for some reason inclined to reassure the man. “I won’t- I’m not- I’m not going to tell him.”

Martin hesitates, wringing his hands, apologies visible on every pore of his face. “I- Thank you. I’ll- I’ll go take it off. Christ, that’s embarrassing.”

“Only if you want,” Jon shrugs, which is definitely not the correct thing for him to say as a boss, and it definitely comes out a little gentler than he intends it to, and Jon is three seconds from screaming if he can’t figure out how to make himself react normally to this. It’s a non-traditional piercing in an academic institute of research; it’s against the rules, however dated they may be, and further than that, there is no reason for it to completely undo his composure the way that it has. He tries to get a hold of himself. “I-I mean, that’s likely for the best.”

Martin is giving him a funny look - probably a response to seeing the whole spectrum of human emotions flash across Jon’s face in a millisecond - but he still nods and says: “Sorry again. Thank you,” and then disappears down the corridor.

Jon immediately buries his face in his hands and sighs.

What is wrong with him? For God’s sake, he’s just seen Martin with a lip piercing, it’s not like he’s witnessed the man undressed. Besides, he works in an archive where he has to read statements about the intricacies of monsters that rip off people’s skin and suchlike every day, he should know how to keep his composure better than this. He should just move on with his day and focus without a problem, just like he does every morning.

Except, his mind keeps wandering back to it; the way the little studs had followed the shape of his mouth, the way they had quirked up when he flashed one of his nervous smiles, the way Jon is still desperately curious about what brought him to get them done, and also what it might feel like to brush a thumb, or perhaps even his lips over them.

Jon sits up so fast his head actually smacks against an open filing cabinet behind him. His mind is too busy reeling to notice the ache that fills his head, and he stares straight ahead with wide eyes and utterly scorching cheeks. Absolutely not. He absolutely did not just think about kissing Martin Blackwood. that was- that would be...

He blinks hard, clears his throat. It doesn’t matter what that was. He’s decidedly not interested in Martin Blackwood romantically, or in any other capacity given his truly ridiculous academic competence and his obnoxious habit of interrupting seemingly every stable thing Jon has in his life. He crushes the feeling down hard, locks it up in a box, stuffs it down under his lowest two ribs, and resolves himself never to open it again.

He is not going to keep thinking about this all day. He has work to do, and if something as simple as a pair of metal studs can distract him this badly, then he needs to make absolutely certain it doesn’t happen again.

He tells himself he’s not disappointed when he sees Martin without the piercings later that day.

[honey-lemonz]

From Wattpad..

Xmale Reader

3rd Pov

Warning includes sexual content

Includes: dumbification, master kink if you see it rough sex, degradation, barley a praise kink, female form Muzan, squirt, getting eaten out over stimulation

Muzan will still go by He/him

Requested by:maskstudioart

Thank you for the request!

Muzan didn't ever think he would dub down this far. He would every single day, change his form to his more feminine body and go flirt with a demon archer.

The demon knew it was Muzan the progenitor and knew if he did something wrong he would die but...

Muzan had an obsession.

He overly loved the feeling of climax in a female form, it was so different than a males.

You could say he was a virgin with this meaning he was inexperienced but God's did he fucking love to finger himself.

He just wished a certain archer would make him feel the climax himself.  Muzan couldn't lie, he was a strong demon, very useful as well, very strong too. Good enough to be a spot for the twelve kizuki. Not a lower moon of course most likely and upper rank.

But for some odd reason he didn't want him as a servant.

He wanted him as a lover. And he knew love needed to be two sided otherwise it wouldn't work.

So how do you make a lust full demon king make another demon who is a devoted archer and is devoted to his sport and possibly not interested in him or fears him?

Gifts and buy lots of them, bribing.

Muzan wore his most fancy kimono and tied his hair into his bun and made Daki put the pins in. He wore a signature floral style which is famous muromachi period which it the century the archer if from.

He put on a red lip and was out the infinity fortress and walked to the archery park filled with cherry blossoms and bamboo gates. No human knew of the hidden places.

Muzan glared at the other demons to open the gate and strolled on in, he felt like a school girl who had a crush on her upper class men. Except he is older and stronger.

The archer was practicing with their bow and was in total focus. He could sense Muzan and smiled vividly that his lord could see him.

"Hello, Muzan-sama. How are you tonight under this moon." His voice made the king's pussy clench on nothing. He bit his lip and walked closer. A pale and touched the grey-ish skin of the archer. Veins throbbing on muscle.

Muzan traced them and hummed, his voice not menacing but suggestive.

"I am well, my archer..My search for the blue spider lilly is going unsuccessful but I grant time will tell. Now, how is my dear, archer. Have any whores here?"

Muzan is a jealous and petty thing. He knew the archer can have whores here and there. Daki has spoken about it. She even said his physical domination is almost more tempting and frightful than Kokushibou. (sexy ass man koku)

The archer inhaled before letting the string of the bow go. "What of it my lord?" Normally Muzan would be angered of the question but he, he made it sound like a challenge.

"Well, I came here to see my beloved and most favorite archer...I didn't come to see if he is fucking another whore. I thought warriors like you were supposed to be poised."

The archer's fist clenched, snapping the bow in half. Muzan let out almost a moan at the sight of his strength.

"Yes my lord. I am poised, who ever told you of these lies must want to anger you. I haven't had a woman nor man at my side since the Sengoku."(making the archer older than Koku)

Muzan gazed at his split eyes, cat like with the gold color shining through. He wasn't lying, so either Daki was or whoever told Daki lied. Either way Muzan will deal with it later.

"So, my archer if to say you did have a whore what would she be? What would she looked like? Would she be rich? Poor?"

Muzan stepped behind him and pressed his womanly breast against his stern and muscular back. A thing kimono separated the skin to skin contact. The archer prepared his stance again. He inhaled and held the strong and tight bow. He pulled his back to his cheek.

"She, or he would have to learn how to speak of what they want." Muzan hummed and wrapped his hands around his waist from behind. Moving his hands up and down slowly, taunting him. His nails circling around his peck and the faint lines of his abdomen.

"What about her mouth? Should she speak like a whore or more of a queen? Or do you want to shut her up yourself..."

Muzan's hand dipped down to the hakama pants, the white fabric holding and slowly untying them. "Or do you want her to do all the work, my archer.."

His other hand curled around the arm that was holding the arrow. Holding onto his bicep. Leaning up to whisper into his ear.

"Tell me my archer..what kind of whore do you want me to be for you?"

(M/n) sighed and rested his arms and set the bow down. He sighed and let his head fall down to look at the ground. The sweat off his body made it shine slightly underneath the moon light. he looked so delicious, it made Muzan restless.

He wished he could see him during the sun or wake up beside him and just let him fuck the shit out of him or eat him out.

"Muzan-sama." The king in question hummed and smiled devilishly at his favored archer. "Yes (M/n)?" he answer as his long blue nail was tracing the outline of his cock.

"One thing."

He hummed again, he could read his mind and knew what he was going to say and it made him drip with slick.

"Whores that ask to many questions are just begging to be fucked." He dropped the bow and turned around the see Muzan. He smiled and blushed.

Muzan lifted his arms making him carry him. He didn't want to be in control he just wanted him to fuck him deep into the ground. His pussy was aching it.

Muzan was laying in his shoulder. If any demon saw him, they'd be killed.

They walked into the large estate, the house had been a gift from Muzan. He was so happy he decided to kill of the family here and give it to him.

He dropped Muzan on the engawa and stripped himself of his thin kimono but not the hakama pants. His chest that housed that baritone voice, a voice he wanted to her moan his name and name alone made the demon lord almost finger himself then.

"But since my king is here I believe it is best to pleasure him first than myself." He got onto his knees and stomach and rested on the wooden flooring. The white curtains only showed their shadows but neither cared.

He pushed the layers of cloth out of the way only to see no underwear or anything. A bare pink pussy dripping with cum.

"My lords pussy is dripping..did he plan for this? To be eaten out like a slut? How disgusting you pig." He breath fanned his clit. The anticipation was harsh but the impact was so enjoyus.

"Yes, I am your little slut, now please my archer eat me out like one." Muzan's head tilted back and spread his legs wider, his clit twitch waiting for the intense sensitivity to send it over and beyond.

"Yes, my master." His cool tongue circled his clit and spread his labia. Muzan moaned loudly and gripped the archers head. His attention to certain spots was so endearing and so careful.

"More, please! More my archer!"

His tongue dipped into his tight entrance and pushed deeper and deeper. His pointer and middle finger entrap his clit. His thumb circles it roughly. Muzan felt the blood from his teeth digging into his lips dip down onto the floral patterned kimono.

"Fu-fuck. More! Please my archer give me more!" He was arching his back and pushing his head deeper. (M/n) removed his tongue, Muzan missing the contact was about to yell at him to continue but his three fingers replaced the rage with more pleasure.

He moved his hand in and out at inhuman speed. He reached up to lick away the blood from his lords lips and bite them. His thumb moved harsher and harder. Wet and sloppy sounds filled the air.

All coming from the demon lord.

His hands gripped the arches forearm and dug into it, drawing blood with his nails. He was whining and moaning. The pressure built more and more. More lewd and rude comments were whispered into his ear.

"Who knew the demon king wanted to get fucked like a whore..so fucking wet for an archer. Was it your plan to have a good fuck? To act like a such a slut and pig. Your dripping all on my hand."

With the words Muzan's pussy gushed. He had never felt so disgusting but it felt so good to feel like a sloppy whore.

He panted and clenched on his hand.  But then Muzan felt another finger being added. (fisting) The pressure came back and made the demon lord fall back out of over stimulation. Begging and begging for more. His own hand playing with his clit and slapping it too.

His kimono was drenched by the second orgasm, he squirted father this time and more. The engawa was soaking with his delicious fluids. The blood on his lips were lapped away. (M/n) pulled his hand away and liked his digits clean of the others juices.

"So tasty my lord, you did such a good just squirting like a whore."He stood up and lifted his fucked out demon king to farther into the estate.

He rested Muzan on the futon. He stripped himself and then Muzan. His breast were round and plump, his nipples hard.

Kissing and biting them, also playing with his clit made him scream at over stimulation again.

"Pl-please, my archer..fuck me..fuck me until I cannot think.." He begged, his lipstick smudge covering his cheek, hair a mess and his bun not as perfect. The decorations were falling out. This obsession he had was growing and growing because of his dear archer.

"Yes my whore lord."

He untied the sash of the hakama and revealed his thick and long cock. Muzan felt like he was going to fucking squirt again.He pulled (M/n) down to kiss him and to force him and let their body's run against each other. His cock rubbing against his clit made him arch his back.

"Please, my archer just fuck me!"

The archer pushed no slammed himself into Muzan. Letting the demon lord get a taste of what he wanted.

But he pulled out and flipped the demon on his hands and knees. He pushed back in and growled as he clenched tightly around him. His chest pushing into Muzan's. Fucking like a wild animal.

His cock pushed pass his G-spot and made the demon lord cry out about how he is going to cum again. His mind as he fucked him wandered off. Just blank and white all he felt was his pussy gushing and squirting. His arousal dripping down his legs and (M/n)'s cock and balls.

He was drooling and crying, not even having proper speech. When the archer pulled out and showered his back and ass with cum, growling and grunting.

Muzan felt his whole body just become sore. He was the strongest demon but got fucked like the weakest.

"T-this i...is..w-whhy yo-your myy favorite..m-my archer..."

The archer chuckled and wiped the cum off Muzan and the liquids off himself. He waled away to grab a kimono for the demon king.

"You'll ma-make a great King.."

The demon king relished in the feeling of being pampered. He liked how much attention he was getting and how much care was put into it. He smiled as he was place into the warm pool of water and treated perfectly.

By the time the sun rose, the archer and him retired to their sleeping quarters and sleep in the large western style bed. Muzan cuddled close to (M/n). While he was a sleep, which proved he was a hard worker. Demons don't sleep unless anything they do is put with 100%.

Muzan pushed him nail into his temple and pumped his blood into him. The archer growled in pain but kept his eyes closed. Muzan's curse was still in affect but it would not be death just a sting.

"Yes, you would make a great King, my favorite archer.."

He fell a sleep too. His new demon king was going to be perfect, he knew it. 

That is why he was the favorite, he made his obsession grow day by day.

He was truly satisfied.

[bvccy]

Hi!!! Hope you're doing great

Can I please have a mix between number 2 from the soft and 8 from the dark one

Thanks, lost of love ❤❤❤

Thank you so much, nonnie! I am so sorry this took so long, I meant to post yesterday but it wasn’t done. Also, the 8th dark prompt was requested just before you sent in this one, so that is filled separately here.

I tried to do the mix you asked for, and I took the liberty of writing this with Bucky (specifically 40s!BB), and I hope that it’s ok. It’s a bit of a more specific story, actually, that I’d wanted to write for a while. I also did a kind of first for me, because it involves Steve x reader as a backdrop 😂 Anyway.

Lots of love to you too, my dear! 💗💗💗

— PAIRING: soft!dark!Bucky x Reader • preserum!Steve x Reader — PROMPT: Asteria - gazing at one’s object of affection, from afar + Prassius - an impossible desire, and unclean love — LINKS: Masterlist • love stones prompt list — WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

It had taken long enough, and sometimes it seemed like it would never happen, but he finally found Steve a girlfriend — or rather, his girlfriend found him one. Dottie had exhausted several of her close friends and most acquaintances, but she knew how tired Bucky was of seeing his friend mope around, feeling like a third wheel, getting into trouble to pass the time. And honestly she liked Steve too, just not like that — but, wonder-worker that she was, Dottie found a girl that did.

She agreed to come on a double-date one night, and she and Stevie hit it right off. It was the first time Bucky met her too, and he didn't think much of the girl. Small, shy, not quite sickly-looking but not far from it, shoes a bit scuffed, clothes a bit too big for her and smelling of plain soap — in a word: perfect. She was perfect for his sickly, skinny friend who nobody else wanted, and by the looks of things, nobody had wanted her either because she seemed to have no idea what to do around a dance hall. As they were returning home that night, he even heard her confess to Steve that she had never been to one before.

They went out on two more dates, all four of them, within as many weeks. Bucky loved to dance, and Dottie too, but Steve and his girl weren't so fond of tripping over their feet and being laughed at. So they sat together at the table like a pair of broken toys, sharing an ice cream sundae, swinging shoulder-to-shoulder with the music when they liked the tune. Bucky waved at them when their eyes met, and they waved back and cheered at his dancefloor performance, but that happened less and less as they got caught up in each other. Steve would start to sketch things on the napkins while they chatted: the band, the sea of dancers, the fancy chandeliers, and eventually her.

"She said nobody's ever drawn her picture before," his friend said dreamily as they walked back, after they wished a good night to the girls. "Can you believe that?"

"Sure can…"

"She almost didn't let me do it. But she's so pretty, Buck."

"Mhm, nice girl."

"I mean yeah, she's no Dottie, but… I don't know, there's just somethin' I like so much about her… I guess her eyes, the way they look when she's smiling, or how her hair looks when the sun shines on it…"

"Get a load a' you," he grinned, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulder in a playful grip that moved his friend's whole body. "One dame's sweet on you, and all of a sudden you're Romeo."

"At least I'm not a punk like you," Steve teased, slipping from his grasp.

"You know what I like best about her?"

"What?" he asked, with a hint of jealousy.

But Bucky smirked without a care. "How she keeps you out of trouble."

It had, indeed, been a while since Steve got in an alley brawl, and by their fifth date his last few bruises healed. He'd almost gotten into one by a cotton candy stand at Coney Island, but his girl was there to pull him back.

"Stevie, leave him alone…"

"You heard what he said?!"

"Who cares," she sighed, clinging to his arm and throwing the other man a hateful look. "Come on, didn't you want to win me that stuffed teddy bear?"

"Better listen to your girl, pal."

"Oh go find a sty to wallow in," she hissed.

"I ought'a smack some manners into you, you two-bit broad!"

"I'd worry about my own manners if I were you, buddy." Bucky slipped between them, coming from behind, standing now close enough to punch the guy if things got heated. But, seeing himself outnumbered, the other man cursed them and left. Just then, Dottie finally caught up.

"What's going on?" she asked, a little out of breath.

Bucky turned around, and was met by the heart-melting sight of Steve and his girl holding each other, her hands on his cheeks as she quietly chastised him, but loving enough that it made him smile and giggle. She closed it with a kiss to his cheek that made the boy blush, and a kittenish rub of their noses together.

"Nothing, everything's fine."

It was around the time they went to see a movie together that Bucky's joy for Steve turned into something else. They sat in the back while some musical played, and through the flashing lights and the corner of his eye, he could see his friend with his sweetheart holding hands on top of her lap throughout the whole performance. Meanwhile Dottie kept rubbing up against him, sometimes leaning her head on his shoulder, daring in the darker scenes to kiss his neck, but when she tried to get more of his attention —

"Buckyyy, what's wrong?"

— he shook her off. Hearing his name spoken by her voice suddenly felt disappointing.

He caught himself staring more and more, and not just when they went out together. Sometimes, the girl came by and spent some time with Steve, looking at his newer sketches, trying her hand too — oh and how disgusting they looked, Steve taking advantage of the situation to sit behind, and wrap his arms around her, and whisper in her ear. The pair greeted him cheerfully when he stepped through the living room and caught them, and he grinned back at them as he took a glass of milk, but all his appetite was gone.

And when they walked together through the park, and he saw them holding hands again… When Steve dug for some change to get her an ice cream, and they giggled stupidly as they made a mess of sharing it… When she fell asleep by his side one night at the dance hall, and Stevie woke her up with a tickle down her cheek, and she shivered and murmured like a bird and hid her face in his unworthy shoulder…

"Why don't you ever wanna dance, doll?" he asked as they were fetching drinks.

"Not much good at it, I guess," she shrugged. "The fast ones make me dizzy and I always trip."

"I can teach you. It'll work out great! Stevie teaches you to draw, I teach you how to dance… What do you say?"

The girl seemed to think, but shook her head. "Hmmm… No, not right now. Thanks," she smiled politely. "Besides, what would Stevie do meanwhile?"

She told him no just for the sake of keeping his scrawny little friend company, and Bucky had never felt more insulted — not that she wouldn't dance with him, although that hurt enough, but that he couldn't remember the last dame that gave something up just to stick with him, or got into fights for him, or kissed his wounds away, or held his hand in hers with no ulterior motive, and he'd found a girl that did that, and he wasted her on Steve.

So what if she was a little on the smaller side? So what if her dresses didn't fit right? So what if she came down with the cold at every change of season? He put up with it for Steve and he wasn't half as charming. The girl, instead, looked very delicate, more feminine in her own way, like when she braced her fingers on a table as she talked and mindlessly swung back and forth, animated in whatever she was saying, and her digits bent in such a childish way he feared they'd break, and it only made him want to kiss them. Or when she took her shoes off when she came to their apartment and he could catch a hint of shapely ankle, just perfect for his grip, or a peachy pink instep small enough to fit his palm. And when she fell asleep on their couch that one time and Bucky saw her all curled up, and noticed the arch of her hips and the cinch of her waist and pictured how good it would feel to hold them, and angle them upward, and…

Slowly, he started to appreciate some of what his friend had said that night, because she did have lovely eyes, and hair that looked so soft and warm, and her scent, unburdened by perfume, was sweet and girlish, and her lips looked kissable, and her wrists and knees and ankles too…

"Going out again, tonight?" he asked as the blond boy fixed himself in the mirror.

"Yeah, she wants to try this new place we —"

"Alright, alright…" sighed Bucky, already sick of hearing more. "So, that's all you're gonna do?"

"Well… yeah."

And then he voiced an evil thought. "Don't you ever want to… you know?"

"Y-you think we should?" Steve asked, turning away from his pallid reflection.

Bucky sat sprawled across the couch, and shrugged. "If she really likes you, she'd be up for it, don't you think?"

"I don't know about that, Buck."

"No? Ok," he nodded. "After all, what do I know?"

The aftermath of this particular advice was a draught of dates for poor ol' Steve, because just like Bucky had expected, the girl shrinked at the suggestion and couldn't stand to see him. For a while.

"Can you believe it, Buck?!"

"Yeah…"

"She'll see me again!"

"That's great, Stevie."

"What's wrong? You're lookin' real dour today."

Bucky knew he shouldn't. "I just…" He knew that it was wrong. "Look, it's great that she's forgiven you, but you gotta be realistic about this, pal." He had been happy for Steve at one point, long ago.

"What do you mean?"

But that was before he saw just how much love a girl could give, and realised he'd never felt it.

"Just don't delude yourself this is anything more than what it looks like, ok? She's only forgiven you because she knows nobody else will have her."

"That's mean, Buck."

"Yeah, well… I'm just looking out for you. You're my best friend, you know that. I don't want you getting hurt." It stuck in his throat to say it, but the bitterness stuck more.

And after Steve went to bed that night, Bucky took out the box of candy and the pricey perfume he had bought for her, threw them in the trash, and firmly promised to himself to never wait too long again.

But as he learned a bit later on, when they went back to double-dates, he might not have had a chance at all, because there was an unwitting element of truth to this cruel tirade.

"I can't exactly blame you, honey," Dottie consoled her as they stood in line for the ladies room, not knowing Bucky was just behind the thin divider leading to the men's. "If he does something like that again, I know this other fella —"

"Oh no, Dot, please… We're fine now. He explained things and… he's really sweet, I think he just had a moment of —"

"But just let me introduce you to Jim, see if you don't like him better."

"I… I don't know."

"He's a real charmer," Dottie grinned, "and he has these big, broad hands, jaw like an anvil. He just broke it off with Marcie cause she was a flirt."

He didn't hear anything next, but the girl must've shook her head cause Dottie asked, "You're sure?" and "Really? Well, if you change your mind…"

"Thanks, Dot," she lightly laughed.

"I don't know why you're so stubborn though, it's not like he's that far out your league. You just need to fix your hair a little bit and get a better brand of powder."

"It's not that easy."

"It's all it took me to get Bucky on my arm. That, and a better set of heels," she laughed.

"Yeah but you've always been pretty, Dot. Like, really pretty, and you know it. I guess some girls are for the James Barnes of this world, and some are the for the Steves."

She giggled as she said it, with not a hint of anger or resentment, and that's what stung the worst.

Bucky arranged to go see a late night movie with Dottie after that, while Steve and his girl went back to the apartment to listen to a boxing match on the radio and have some cherry sodas. Dottie went ahead to buy the tickets while Bucky walked them home, and after wishing him good night, she went upstairs to set things up. Steve was meant to go to the store and buy the drinks, but he stayed to chat with his friend a while.

"I can get some eggs and milk as well while I'm at it," he offered, swinging on his heels with his hands in his pockets.

"Sure."

"Or do we have enough for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Go ahead and buy them, pal," Bucky smiled, pretending to be less tired than he felt.

"Ok. And what about — darn!"

"What is it?"

"I just realized, I forgot to give her the keys," he said, taking a hand out of his pocket and holding them out. "I gotta get to the store, can you go up and give them to her?"

"Er, why don't —"

"You know I always trip on the stairs when I'm in hurry, Buck, they haven't changed the lightbulb yet. Don't make me do it."

"Fine, I'll go."

"I owe you big."

"You always do," he grinned, and took the keys from him.

Steve made off for the corner store, while Bucky started the long slow climb upstairs. It was completely dark inside at that hour, and the few candles some neighbours left to light the way had all gone out.

"Stevie, is that you?" he heard her call, standing right outside their door.

He kept one hand against the wall and walked his way toward her, stopping as he heard her whisper, "I think I lost the keys."

Blindly, she moved her hand forward, coming right across his chest. He felt her jolt at the unexpected contact, then burst into a giggle. Bucky could already feel the fanning of her breath right at the level of his chin. With an unseen smile, he took her hand, and placed the keys within it.

"Oh," she laughed. "You had them."

As her hand closed around them his own moved up her shoulder, fingers threading around her hair, and as he touched her jaw he felt her tilting slightly upward, shivering under the feeling.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

He felt the warming tickle of her breath as he leaned close until, through the pitch black, he touched his lips to hers. Bucky did it lightly, just a little, just enough to taste and sip a kind of love he'd never really had. She stood surprised but took his kiss, and he felt her smiling into it, even beginning to kiss back just as he was parting from her.

"Your lips are softer than before," she giggled, in a sweet but altogether crushing way that made Bucky's heart beat stronger. "Stevie?"

Her hand moved through the air to touch him but felt nothing anymore, and down the stairs the heavy steps echoed, moving downward and away.

[toosicktoocare]

Jason knows the second he’s pulled from sleep by a low vibration close to his head that today’s going to go down in the books as, to put it simply, a bad day. There’s a dull sense of pressure in his head, pushing lightly against the base of his skull, and his phone buzzing insistently beside his head is only heightning his overall awareness that he’s got one hell of a mirgaine trying to grow against his brain. 

He slaps his hand around blindly for his phone, squeezing his eyes shut against the drum of pressure as he clumsily presses answer on his phone with a groan. 

“Look, Dick Brain, I’ve already told you that I’m not teaming up with you lot of dumb birds tonight. I have my own shit, so you you all need to keep your shit to yourselves.” 

“Master Jason?”

Jason isn’t prepared for the polite accent on the other line, one that’s distinctly laced with an air of disappointment. He shoots up in bed, his free hand flying to push against the alarming wave of pressure that’s blooming across is forehead. “Shit, Alfred. Sorry. I didn’t realize it was you.” 

“I assumed as much. Did I wake you?”

Jason clears his throat to rid the lingering dryness from sleep that’s coating his throat. He blinks slowly at the digital clock on his bedside table until his mind finally makes sense of the numbers and orders: 10:22 AM. 

He contemplates lying for a breath of a moment only to chase the thought away with a shake of the head. Alfred will know; he always does. 

“Yeah,” he laughs quietly. “Guess I slept in a little.” 

“Are you quite alright, Master Jason? It’s unlike you to sleep past 7 AM.” 

Jason mentally supplies the words that go unsaid: ‘because of your nightmares.’ Sighing, he digs his fingers into his forehead, massaging around the blossoming pressure. “Yeah, just a headache.” 

“Not one of your migraines, I hope.”

“Nah,” Jason tries for an airy attitude, one void of any concern, and to his legitimate surprise, Alfred seems to accept his answer, though hesitantly. 

“If you’re absolutely sure...”

Deflect, Jason supplies to himself. “I assume Dick’s got you calling to do his dirty work?”

“Not quite. Master Bruce asked me to call when Dick informed him that you’ve been dodging his calls all week.”

“That’s new,” Jason mutters, swinging his legs over the bed and sliding to his feet. The sudden change in weight distribution elevates the pressure in his head. He swallows back a gasp, free hand finding the wall for support as he shuffles from his bedroom to his bathroom in search for pain killers. “What’s so important about tonight? Sounds like a standard drug bust that Dick can more than handle on his own.” 

“Master Bruce would feel better if all of his sons were present tonight.” 

Jason doesn’t understand Bruce’s mind, his logic and reasoning for his choices. He never has, and he gathers that he never will. He snags a bottle of pain killers and balances his phone between his ear and shoulder, ignoring to sudden shift of pain in his head. 

“I have my own patrol, Alfred.” 

“We’ll have all patrols covered, Master Jason. Your territory will be well looked after tonight.” 

Damn, Jason thinks. If there’s one thing Alfred is good at, it’s his verbal reassurance, something so frighteningly powerful. He dry swallows a few pills and drops against the edge of his tub with a sigh, fingers raking through his hair. 

“Fine. Will you send me the details?” He drags out each word slowly, making sure that Alfred knows he’s only agreeing because it’s Alfred asking. 

“Of course.”

***

Jason’s head feels far too heavy on his neck, the added pressure weighing it down. The pain killers chased off the edge of the migraine for a few hours, but per usual, the pain came back stronger as the pills wore off, and he’s opted not to take more, not wishing to risk being slightly sluggish. 

He walks up to see Dick, Tim, and Damian occupying a small corner down an alleyway, their odd meetup point. Tim’s seated, his back against a wall, and he’s yawning. Dick’s stood with his back against a wall across from Tim, his arms crossed, as he muffles a few light coughs into his fist. And, Damian’s standing closer to Dick with his right arm cradled close to his chest. 

Tension trickles down to Jason’s limbs, and he grips his helmet a little tighter in his hand as he approaches. “The fuck’s wrong with you all?” His own voice is a drill in his head, piercing through the pressure and re-distributing it unevenly.

It’s Tim who opts to speak around a second yawn. 

“Dick’s still recovering from the flu, and the Demon Brat hurt his wrist on patrol yesterday.” 

“My wrist is fine, Drake,” Damian spits out, drawing out words deliberately.

“I assume you haven’t slept,” Jason mutters, nodding toward Tim, who’s slow to get to his feet. 

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Dick cuts in sharply, and Jason arches a single brow to the oldest, faintly curious. “You need sleep, Tim, or you’ll wind up sick.” 

“Funny since you’re the one who’s running a low grade fever.” 

“Grayson is competent, Drake, even while recovering from illness. He’s not so easily taken down by the flu.” 

“And what are you planning on doing tonight, Damian,” Tim drags out lowly, and Jason shifts his faint curiosity from one idiot to the other. 

“You can barely move your wrist.” 

“I’ve been trained to be ambidextrous, Drake-”

“-Okay,” Jason calls out, the curiosity from before replaced with dull, familair annoyance that’s now mixed in with a hot pain swirling in his skull. “Let’s just get this the fuck over with, yeah?” He looks to Dick, a silent question to take charge, and Dick nods and turns on his heel, leading everyone to the hinted base for the drug ring. 

“Father would tell you to watch your language,” Damian mutters at Jason’s side before he quickens his step to match Dick’s steady pace. 

Jason flips him off and shoves his helmet over his head, swallowing back a groan when the added weight pushes the pressure in different directions. Nausea starts to tumble in his stomach, and he tries his best to steady his breathing, pushing his concentration away from himself. 

“So, Timmy, what are the deets? Alfred didn’t say much.”

***

Turns out, Bruce’s hunch was correct, and all four were forced to hold their own against multiple, burly men, all of which got in numerous, painful hits before being taken down. The fight ended at the top of an apartment building across the street from the warehouse that was doubling as the drug storage, and Jason’s not sure he’s ever felt this much pain in his head, knowing that it didn’t help he let a few men get some solid hits to his face and temples. 

The others appear to be, more or less, in similar conditions. Dick’s down on one knee, panting heavily. Damian’s paler than usual, and he’s got his wrist held tightly to his chest, and Tim’s swaying on his feet, looking about ready to drop any second. 

Jason pulls a slow gaze around them, swallowing thickly around the bursting pressure that’s pushing hard against every inch of his skull now, swelling against his brain, leaving his vision fraying at the edges. He’s faintly aware that the others are talking amongst each other, but he can’t keep up with the conversation, not with the sudden roar in his ears that drowns out the voices around him. 

The pain’s... intense. It’s all he’s able to supply, most thoughts breaking against the pressure. He takes a step back, fingers clumsily slipping under his helmet. His vision is graying now, blurring, and he tries to blink around it. He can see Dick get to his feet, see the older boy frowning at him. He’s saying something to him, but Jason can’t work his mind around reading lips. No, all he wants is to get the damn helmet off his head, but his hands are shaking too hard to be of any use. 

He starts to feel hot all over despite the crisp fall air. He takes another, staggering step back, his legs struggling to hold his balance, to support the weight of his abdomen and head, and the back of his foot knocks hard into something. He only realizes that he’s bumped into the edge of the roof when he’s falling backward into open, empty space. 

His stomach plummets in time with his body, bringing back his vision, sounds, his surroundings. 

“Jason!”

He pulls his gaze from the tilting sky to see the others coming into view, and he wonders, briefly, if it’s the last thing he’ll ever see, but the thought gets josteled from his head when something small yet strong latches onto his ankle, followed by a loud, gasping cry. 

His back slams against the side of the apartment building, bringing with it bursting, white hot pain across his head, but he manages to stay present, craning his neck up to see Damian crying and holding onto his ankle with his injured hand. Dick stumbles toward them, wrapping one arm tightly around Damin to keep him up on the roof. 

“Jason! Do you think you can lean upward?”

Nodding, Jason breathes deeply around the pain and nausea, and he swings himself upward, arms flying forward until he’s grasping at the hands reaching out to him. Dick and Tim pull him up, and the second he’s upright, his vision grays until he blacks out entirely. 

***

“Come on, Jay, open your eyes for me.” 

Jason wants to be annoyed that the voice is waking him, but there’s something so soft and desperate in the tone, in the gentle touches at his face, so he decides to try and chase it. 

“Bruce is on his way.” 

That brings Jason back all at once, his mind reeling against pain, and nausea twisting so hard in his stomach. He leans to the side and vomits, mutely thankful that someone removed his helmet. 

“Shit, Jason!” 

He can feel a hand at his back, rubbing small circles, and when his stomach settles, he flops back onto his back with a groan, only faintly aware that his head is pillowed on Dick’s thigh. 

“Jay? You with us?” 

“Bruce says he’s two minutes out. He wants to know if we can make it off the roof.” 

Jason realizes slowly that there’s a voice missing, and then memories flood agaisnt the pressure in his head until he’s jerking forward to see Damian sitting across from his, tear trackes evident against his cheeks. 

“Fuck, Damian, your wrist-”

“It’s okay.” Damain’s voice is shaking, and Jason leans forward to pat Damian’s knee, unsure of what else he could do or say to properly express the heavy weight of appreciation for Damian saving his life. 

“Jason, what happened? Are you sick?” Dick’s voice is laced deep with worry at Jason’s back, two hands planted firmly to Jason’s shoulders.

Before Jason can answer, Bruce is swinging himself over the ledge of the roof, fully suited, dark eyes shifting between each son, falling on Jason. 

“Migraine,” he answers deeply for Jason. “Alfred suspected as much.” Bruce stops before him. “Can you walk?” 

Jason nods and allows Bruce to pull him to his feet. He sways for a moment, swallows back the need to dry heave, and grounds himself, faintly aware that Bruce’s hand is just inches from his elbow. He doesn’t meet Bruce’s studying gaze, doesn’t fully breathe until Bruce breaks away to assess the others. 

He watches, exhausted, as Damian argues with Bruce that he doesn’t need to be carried. He frowns when Tim stumbles into Dick, and Dick crouches down and instructs Tim to climb atop his back. He follows behind the others, listening in briefly to hear Tim grumble how Dick’s fever feels like it’s spiking, or how Bruce’s is tugging Damian tightly to his side and muttering reassurances under his breath. 

When they reach the ground floor, his knees begin to shake, but then Alfred’s at his side, worried, arm tight around his shoulders, and he’s guided into one of Bruce’s many cars, squeezing in the back beside the others. Tim’s directly to his left, and he drops his head to Jason’s shoulder almost immediately. Jason nudges him forward just enough to slip his arm around his back, and Tim curls closer into him. 

Jason decides that just for tonight, he’ll let him. He cranes his neck to see Damian similarly clinging to Dick, and he locks eyes with Dick, the two sharing a mutual, tired nod. 

Dragging his gaze slowly forward, Jason squeezes his eyes shut, focusing on the lull of the engine and not on the drum pounding in his head. 

“Shall I drop Master Jason off at his apartment?” 

“No, I want all of my sons at the manor tonight.” 

[boldlyvoid]

Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It

Criminal Minds x Mindhunter AU

Spencer Reid x Peggy Carr (OC) Part 2: The Case

Summary: Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.

warnings: strangers to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn! flirting, fluff, eventual smut, idiots in love, OC is Wendy Carr and Jason Gideon's biological daughter. mentions of rape and murder (typical canon violence)

word count: 2.2K

ao3

P1

He’s not expecting her to roll out a full map after the waitress clears the food from their table. They’ve been in the booth for barely 20 minutes. Having mindless conversations about their day and small get to know each other questions while they ate.

“So, I brought all this to my dad,” she explained, dropping 33 files on the table as well as 2 spiral notebooks and a handful of pens. “He thinks I have a case, but he’s refusing to look at the evidence because he’s still triggered by it, which I get, but he said you’d be the best at helping me because I really just need a geo-profile consult.”

“How is he doing?”

She’s been waiting for him to ask but she still didn’t know how to answer, no matter how much time she had to prep, “uh, he’s good. He talks about you every time I see him, how often do you talk?”

“We haven’t talked since he almost died, 6 years ago now… yes, it was in 2015,” Spencer says it like it’s nothing serious.

“Oh,” she’s confused about it all. Her father talks about him more than anyone else, always remembering a case or a conversation that he just had to tell her about.

Spencer was his buddy in her eyes. “Here I was thinking he liked you more than me like you’re his favourite kid.”

“I’m not his kid,” his eyes widen at the insinuation that they’re somehow siblings in any sense.

It makes her laugh, she knows he’s interested in her a small amount. She was hoping he would, she’s heard so many wonderful things about him and she remembers just how cute he was back in 2005. Now he’s a man and a mighty fine one at that…

“I take it you’re an only child?” He changes the subject, “you can’t handle the idea of your father having relationships with people your age when you hardly know him?”

“How about you tell me who you think I am and I’ll tell you where you went wrong?” She challenges him rather than answering, she knows he’s good but she wants to see it in action.

Spencer raised his brow, “if I get it right, you’re paying for lunch.”

“Deal.”

He opens her notebook and takes a look at her notes, flipping through the pages reading the words just as fast as her father said he could. It was incomprehensible, but he didn’t read far… he keeps going back to her drawings, studying the pressure and how her mind worked.

“Your mom travelled a lot when you were a kid, and you always went with her. I’m thinking you have a few degrees, at least 3…” he pauses to watch her microexpressions, trailing her skin with his eyes as he looks for anything out of the ordinary. “There’s a doctorate in there but you hate being called Dr. Carr because that’s your mother’s name and it reminds you too much of people asking about her instead of how you’re doing.”

It cuts deep, but he hits the nail on the head and she just blinks. The simplest microexpression that shows him he got it right, his smile is awkward and he’s sorry for it.

“You were homeschooled so you don’t trust people very easily. You have issues with your father that you can’t place because you still don’t think you know him well enough to really have an opinion, and you’re jealous of me because you wish you knew how he brags about you when you’re not around, but he doesn’t talk about you because you told him not to.”

“I specifically told him I wanted to be left out of his life to stay safe, so it’s really my fault that he can’t brag about me. But I still wish someone would,” she admits with a soft smile. “And I think it’s not really jealousy. I’m not jealous of how he brags about his time with you. If anything, I really admire you now.”

He blushes a little, “alright, your turn.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend before have you?” She calls him out right away. “You can’t take a compliment seriously because no one has loved you deep enough yet for you to believe them. I already know about your parents, I know that you’re scared of forgetting and that’s why you won't stop learning. I think you probably have a bucket list, you’re desperate for something exciting to happen and that’s why you like me already.”

He blinks right back, “touché.”

“I’ll still buy your lunch,” she smiled, and he smiled right back. “And I do have 3 degrees.”

“I do too.”

“I know,” she reminded him. “You’ve been working on that 4th one for the last 16 years.”

“I haven’t had the time.”

She shakes her head as she laughs, teasing him as if she’s better than him because she knows he finds her interesting already, “I had my Ph.D. by 17, as well 2 masters by the time I was 21.”

“3 Ph.D.’s by 22,” he bragged right back.

It had suddenly become a staring contest, “when exactly did your dad walk out on you?”

“I was 10.” Spencer answers. “When was the last time your mom said she was proud of you?”

“Oh, we're going that far, I see,” she laughed, hurt just a little that he dug that deep, “what happened to yours recently?”

“Alzheimer’s.”

“I’m really sorry, I knew about the schizophrenia already because of the fisher king case, that one is the one that still has my dad all fucked up,” she can’t help but rant as she apologizes, placing her hands on his in the centre of the table and he interlocks their fingers like they’ve known each other for years.

“Boston?” He asks her, changing the topic back to getting to know each other without letting go of her hands.

She nods, “Vegas?”

“You knew that already,” he catches her.

“Maybe so,” she blushes at the embarrassment of him picking up on her crush.

“How’d he describe me at chess?” There’s a cockiness behind it that she admires, smiling in response she just shakes her head.

“I don’t play chess, but he says that other than Agent Prentiss, you’re the only person who has come close to beating him.”

“Prentiss?” He looks almost offended at the fact he didn’t know that story.

“You were asleep on the jet, it was right after the trip to Azkaban,” she reminds him.

“Azkaban?” He repeats. “You mean Guantanamo?”

She’s only slightly embarrassed by the slip-up, blushing a deep red as she presses her lips together and squeezes his hand. “My mom calls it Azkaban, she hates it. If it wasn’t for the BAU, she would have never joined the bureau or the government in any way, she’s against the criminal justice system too, so…”

“She’s a woman of science and empathy, I’ve never met her, but I’ve read all her work.”

“So have I,” she’s full of butterflies for some reason as she thinks about him knowing everything that she does, she’s suddenly excited at the prospect of future conversations with him like this isn’t a one-time thing.

He’s still holding her hands over the map, both of them leaning in slightly as they kept talking, it felt overly intimate for a discussion of a case— and they haven’t even started yet.

She takes her hands out of his grip and flattens them over the map, “so I found a pattern, I was asked to look into the rape and murder of a friends sister, and now I’ve found 32 matching cases all over America going in alphabetical order by state, 2 a year since 2005.”

“Are you serious?”

She nods softly, “I’m a private investigator. I hated the academy and simply being in the BAU almost killed both of my parents so I’m not really fond of it, but I need help.”

“How did VICAP not pick this up?” Spencer’s still caught up on the fact this has been happening during his entire career and he had no way of helping. It was very clear by the look on his face.

“Because they’re college-age women getting raped in their dorms, 1 in each state, and men don’t care enough to dig a little deeper when it’s just a little girl who was probably asking for it anyway, right?”

He looks furious, but with her… not at her.

Not like most men, that’s actually exactly what any other guy would have said to her. ‘Not most men,’ they only said that if they were offended; when they knew that they were the exact type of man she was referring to.

He started opening case files then, flipping through everything as she watched carefully, “he always does it the exact same way. It’s every March and November between the 6th and 12th, he’s gotten to the O’s, which means the next hit should be in Oklahoma in exactly 2 months' time.”

“Has there been evidence?” Spencer asks, avoiding eye contact as he both listens and absorbs.

“1 footprint and some random fingerprints at the first few, other than that it’s like he was never there,” she sighs. “This is where I need your help; I’m unsure if he’s attacking randomly or if it’s planned ahead of time, so I brought the map to see if you can make any connection.”

“Alright,” he closes the folder and hands them to her so he can get a better look at everything. “I’m going to need the exact address of each one.”

“I have 32 mini maps,” she says, opening her book bag and handing him yet another folder.

“I’ve noticed they’re in every capital, and it’s always on the east side of the city,” she adds as he spreads them out on the table.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and turns on the flash, turning it face down and holding the sheets of paper over it, “If you look at them over each other, there might be a pattern. We should call my friend Penelope, she’ll be able to digitally do this and find something.”

“Okay,” Peggy nods along, “I really need to know within the week because I’m moving to Oklahoma.”

“What?” He looks overly worried.

“He’s interested in college-age brunettes,” she points at herself. “I’m going to rent an apartment with a sliding door in the kill zone, and I’m going to wait it out. I’ll make sure everyone knows I live alone, I won't make friends, I’ll keep the windows open when I go to the store, I’ll make myself a victim.”

“No, we can get the bureau to send in a team, you don’t need to be in harm's way,” he protests, “I won’t help if I know you’re throwing yourself in the middle of all this. I refuse.”

There’s an underlying panic that she doesn’t quite understand. He’s almost shaking as he thinks about her playing the victim, they stare back and forth at each other softly, eyes flickering over the other’s expression as he also reads her.

“Fine,” she agrees, finally. “But if you’re getting the team involved, I want to be able to have some say in the investigation. I don’t want to be kicked out for just being a PI.”

“On one condition,” Spencer smirks. “You have to teach the BTK seminar with me.”

“Deal,” she smiled. “But I have some conditions too.”

“Anything?”

He was going to regret that.

“We can’t sleep together until we catch the guy— don’t look at me like that!” she catches the way his jaw drops and his eyes glisten.

He’s in complete shock, trying to say words and failing miserably as she stares at him knowingly. “I only said that because I need rules for myself too. We can’t care more about each other than the victims. Solve the case with me and then I’ll have a crush on you, okay?”

“Okay,” he finally finds the words to agree. “Was it that obvious?”

“We held hands for 5 minutes, I’ve thought you were cute since you were 23 and that seminar was a; 'my horse is bigger than your horse' flirting match,” she calls it all out, “I’m just as into you as you are into me already, if not more so because I know way too much about you thanks to my dad and uncle Rossi.”

“Dave knew about you too?” He’s more upset than she expected.

She nods, “yeah, so that I’d be taken care of if anything happened to my dad.”

He is a little upset and she can’t figure out why from what she knows already, “why?”

“You’re so interesting, you and I could have been friends for the last 15 years and things could have been so interesting but you were a secret,” he whispers.

“I was right wasn’t I?”

He nods again, “Gideon doesn’t know about Maeve, but I had a girlfriend who died in front of me before I could tell her I loved her and it broke me.”

Everything makes sense now. The stares, the stuttering, the defensiveness at the idea of her being in harm's way after only knowing her for a few hours. He was desperately looking for someone like himself to prove that he wasn’t going to be alone forever, and he wanted that to be found in her.

“Solve the case with me, then you can learn what it’s like to love someone who loves you back.”

taglist:

@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[miastideclock]

“REM” Bang Chan Drabble

anon asked:

Hi, there! I hope you’re having a good day/night. I’ve been having serious Chan feels lately, so can I please request something where Chan comforts his s/o who is having nightmares/night terrors and makes them feel safe? It can be a scenario or a Drabble, whichever you see fit. Thank you so much in advance!

Hi babe, i don’t know if this is exactly what you had in mind, but i got an idea and i ran with it lmaoo :) 

Word count: 3k Warnings: Fem!Reader (i mention certain features of the reader, and i am so sorry if it doesn’t match yours!! I try to keep it as description-free as i can, but sometimes it just happens, you know?), Gets kinda graphic and a tad bit disgusting. (Blood, gore, etc.)

“I don’t get it. Frank Tupelo is actually Alexander Pearce? But-” You started staring at the screen that showed the end credits of the horribly confusing movie you just watched. Chan was sat next to you none the wiser. 

“But he pretended- why would he, hold up.” Chan started, but cut himself off countless times. To be honest, the only reason you watched the movie in the first place was because Johnny Depp was one of the main character, and he has a tendency to make every movie great.

(Justice for Johnny Depp, I said what I said.)

“Whatever, I’m going to bed. You coming?” Your boyfriend asked as he got to his feet, ready to leave the living room and ascend the staircase connecting to your bedroom. You nodded, letting him know you would be up in a few minutes. However, that was a lie. 

The past few nights you had been having these awful nightmares, making you shake yourself awake. Every single time you did, you were scared you had woken your boyfriend up. Up until now, you had been in the clear, but last night, he was just about to stir awake, but then just scratched his chest and the turned around, remaining fast asleep. That’s when you decided you would be sleeping in the living room until the dreams calmed down. Just because you couldn’t sleep, didn’t mean your boyfriend had to go through the same. 

You cleaned off the table after removing the empty bowl of popcorn and the two glasses. After making sure Chan was unsuspecting, and had fallen asleep, you went upstairs and got ready for bed. Pajamas, brushing your teeth, washing your face, all that jazz. You then made your way back downstairs with a blanket from the closet and grabbed a book as well. That way you could place the book next to you and make Chan believe you fell asleep while doing some late night reading.

After getting comfortable on the soft couch, you hesitantly closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to consume you. 

Running. You didn’t know where, but the gut-wrenching feeling washing over you told you to book it, to get as far away as you could. Looking behind you, you saw nothing but darkness, the same thing that was in front of you, as well as at your sides.  A searing pain suddenly wrapped itself around your legs, making you snap your eyes down to see what on earth was going on. Barbed wire could be seen snaking its way up your legs, digging it’s thorns into your legs, drawing blood long ago. Skin started peeling back, revealing muscle tissue and bone. You wanted to scream out in pain, but as you went to open your mouth, you felt the same searing pain. Your hands flew to your mouth, only to feel twine had sown your lips shut.  A whisper surrounded you. You couldn’t hear exactly what the voice spoke, but you could hear it clear as day at the same time. It drove you crazy.  “This is what he feels.” The voice finally said so you could understand it. Your eyes furrowed together as you tried to understand what he meant, as well as trying to stop the barbed wire from making its way further up your legs.  “This is what he feels.” The voice repeated. The frustration grew too big, making you tear open your mouth, the twine snapping.  “What are you talking about?” You cried. The barbed wire was at your hips at this point, continuing to dig into your skin, blood pouring out of your wounds. “Chan. This is what he feels when he is with you. In pain- you’re holding him back, and it kills him.” You desperately looked around you to find the source of the voice, but to no avail. “No! He loves me!” You cried out, battling the wire that was now cutting up your arms. “He loves me.” You were quieter this time, more unsure. The smallest moment of uncertainty was enough for the barbed wire to get the upper hand, now strangling your neck, making it impossible for you to breathe as tears and blood streamed down your cheeks. You became more and more dizzy before you finally gave in. 

In panic you sat up, looking around, your breath heavy. You had woken up, now back in your living room, no longer in your own personal hell. It took you a few moments to regain your breath, but you finally did. You were drenched in sweat, the large shirt you had stolen from Chan was now sticking to your back, rather than hanging loosely off it. 

You got to your feet and went to the kitchen, needing a glass of water. The digital clock on the oven flashed red as it informed you it was almost seven in the morning. You let out a breath of relief as you realized you didn’t have to go back to sleep. 

After chugging the icy water, you snuck back upstairs and into your bath, turning on the shower. While you waited for it to heat up, you walked over to the mirror, about to grab your hairbrush when your reflection caught your eye. Your throat was red and irritated, having a single scratch down below your ear. You reached up to touch it, and that was when you saw the red irritation marks matched your fingers exactly. You had probably tried to get the barbed wire off in your sleep, rather than just dreaming it. 

Something kinda similar had happened a few weeks ago when you had shook Chan’s hand in your sleep, dreaming you were greeting the prime minister of New Zealand. It had been funny at the time, but now it kind of concerned you. You could only imagine what Chan would do if he saw you like this. Good think you had slept on the couch. 

You proceeded to get ready for the day, opting for a fashionable turtleneck after getting out of the shower and drying off. Turtlenecks weren’t unusual for you to wear, so when Chan finally woke up and saw you at the kitchen table in the black sweater and slip-dress over it, he just complimented your style, rather than asking about it.

“What are your plans for the day?” You asked him after kissing him good-morning. He grabbed some of the grapes you had on your plate of fruit in front of you, and popped one into his mouth before replying. “I don’t know. I thought maybe we could have lunch with Felix and Hyunjin? Thoughts?” He looked at you before taking another grabe in his mouth. You gleefully nodded as you loved to hang out with the boys. They always had the craziest stories, and they loved telling you about their new projects and how their album was coming along. 

However, what you hadn’t taken into account was your lack of proper sleep, and hanging out with the boys craved energy like nothing else. 

So lunchtime finally rolled around, and you found yourself at a café, actively sipping your third coffee today. And at this point it was only eleven thirty. 

“You had to be there- it was crazy! I’m still shocked that no one ended up at the ER.” Felix cackled as he told you yet another of his crazy stories, the two other boys chuckling alongside with him. You tried your absolute best to fake a good laugh, and you could see that Felix and Hyunjin didn’t suspect a thing. But unlucky for you, your boyfriend wasn’t as easy to fool. You sat there for a little while longer before Chan suddenly excused himself as his phone rang. Or at least he said it did, you couldn’t really see his screen. 

“So, Y/n, Chan tells us you’ve been getting really into home projects and such lately?” Felix asked you as he took a bite of his croissant. You nodded along, telling the two boys about your latest project. “Fixing the door sounded fairly easy, so I thought I could do that to kinda ease myself into the world of carpentry and DIYs, but holy cow was I wrong. I have been working on the door upstairs, the one into the laundry-room, you know the one? Yeah, and well, my toolbox have been sitting next to a heavily broken door on the floor for like three days now. Every time I start, I get even more pissed and have to take a breather.” You chuckled, trying to plaster on a mask of enthusiasm and humor.

You loved the boys to death, but you just didn’t have the energy to spare today. They applauded you, resulting in you bowing slightly. Hyunjin asked a few questions about a doorknob he had issues with at his own place, to which you gave him some tips. 

“Sorry about that.” Your boyfriend suddenly returned to the table. “But Y/n and I have to get going. Our neighbour just called and said she thought she heard a tap running, so we gotta go get that. But it was nice catching up!” Chan let them know, making you get to your feet and grab your purse, scared your place might’ve already flooded. You gave the two boys both a kiss on the cheek as you bid them goodbye, you and Chan soon making your way out of the café. 

“Was it Linda who called, or Mrs. Oh?” You asked, trying to place which tap it might have been they heard. Chan soon grabbed your hand and slowed you down, letting you know there was no rush. “What are you doing, we gotta get home!” You grew confused.

“There was no phone-call you moron. I saw you were tired and needed a break. We can catch up with them some other time.” He spoke with a smirk on his face, making your jaw drop as well as the corner of your lips tug upwards. You  thanked him and fell into his pace, you giving his hand a squeeze. While still having your fingers intertwined, you took your free hand and wrapped it around the same arm you were holding with your other, your head leaning against his shoulder as you walked at a slow pace. 

The warm breeze kissed your exposed legs, gently brushing your hair out of your face. The sun was high in the sky as it was only noon, people and cars rushing past you, trying to make meetings on time, running errands. 

“Did you even get to bed last night?” Chan asked you quietly, not needing to speak up anymore as you were resting your head on his shoulder. You told him you fell asleep on the couch reading. “Ahh, that makes sense. It’s a good couch, but not the best place to try to get some proper sleep.” He understood. 

The rest of the day was pretty chill, and before you knew it, it was night time. Soft music was playing on the radio as you entered the bathroom where Chan was already standing, fresh out of the shower, only a pair of joggers on him. He was just finishing up putting on shaving cream on his face when you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hey baby girl.” He grinned as you hung around him. You hummed a reply before letting go of him, letting him raise the razor to his face. 

You brushed your hair and washed your face, but made sure to take your time. You didn’t want to change out of your turtleneck until Chan was gone. When he finally did you hurriedly changed into the same t-shirt you had slept in the night prior, only that it had been washed since its last use. You looked in the mirror and saw that the irritation from this morning had calmed down immensely, only a few scratches being visible. You positioned your hair over your shoulders so the marks would be hidden, at least for the small time you would have to expose yourself to your boyfriend. 

“Hey babe, I’ll be downstairs for a while. I’m not really tired yet, so I’ll just watch a movie or something.” You said as you kissed Chan’s cheek. He was already sitting in bed, his back against the headboard as he scrolled through his phone. “Oh why didn’t you just say so? I’ll come with you.” He smiled and was about to put away his phone, but you stopped him.

“Babe, you have a long day at work tomorrow, you need your sleep. I’ll come back up in no-time, okay?” You assured him. He let you know that he didn’t have work in the morning, but you still convinced him to just go to sleep.

The couch was as comfortable as ever when you finally made your way downstairs with the same blanket from the night before. As soon as your head hit the couch pillows, the memories of your last nightmare flooded your mind, making your breath hitch. You quickly jolted up into a sitting position, taking a few deep breath. You soon tried to lower yourself back down, this time counting the panels of the ceiling, trying to distract yourself as you drifted off to sleep. 

3:39 am 

A muffled scream was heard from downstairs, causing Chan to abruptly wake up. His first instinct was to look over to your side of the bed, his heart dropping when he didn’t see you there. He let his hands ruffle the sheet, looking for you. More rustling noises snapped his attention to the door. Slowly and quietly, Chan made it out of bed, grabbing the handle of the door. He twisted it and quickly opened it, stopping it from making any creaking noises. He then made it into the hallway, trying to listen for sounds downstairs, but it had quieted down. He looked around for a weapon he could attack the intruder with, his eyes landing on your toolbox from the other day. As he grabbed the hammer, he sprinted downstairs, hammer raised above his head, ready to fight off any murderer.

Chan felt his whole body relax when he saw you safe and sound on the couch, no sign of a thief. However, the sigh of relief wasn't something he got the luxury of enjoying as he soon saw you in distress. Tossing and turning and scratching at your neck in such severity that you had drawn the smallest amount of blood.

He placed the hammer on the floor and made his way over to you, grabbing your hands to stop you from hurting yourself anymore. “Y/n!” Chan called out, trying to get you to wake up. After the combination of crying out your name and shaking your shoulder, you finally jolted out of the nightmare you felt so trapped in. You jumped up in a sitting stance, fighting for your breath, tears streaming down your face. 

“Hey, hey- babe. Shh, I’m here. I’m here, love.” Chan spoke instantly, letting you know you were safe. Once you saw you were no longer in danger you fell into his bare chest, sobbing. 

He softly hummed as he protectively wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry out all that you needed. A few minutes passed before you finally calmed down. 

“I’m so sorry I woke you up.” You finally whispered after silence came over you. Chan pulled away from you and gave you a look.

“Are you crazy? Are you actually apologizing right now?” He asked in shock. “I don’t care that you woke me up. All I care about is that you are safe. Okay?” He made sure to look you in the eye and really let you know he meant every single word. 

“Okay. I just didn’t want to be a burden, I figured sleeping on the couch until the nightmares stopped would be the best of both worlds, but I guess not.” You sighed as you fell back into his chest. 

“So you didn’t actually fall asleep reading the other day? Or watch a movie last night?” Chan asked, to which you only hummed, it being a bit too hard to audibly admit you lied to him. 

“Well, since we’re both awake anyways.” Chan stated before letting you go and making his way to the kitchen throwing some popcorn into the microwave. You knew exactly where this was going, so you quickly went upstairs and took a shower as well as getting into another of the many shirts you had stolen from Chan, walking back down. 

The smell of popcorn didn’t surprise you as you had heard him start to pop it before you went upstairs, what did surprise you was what he had down to the living-room while you were gone. Candles on the coffee table, next to wine glasses filled with capri-sun. He had gotten your pillows and quilts from the bedroom and made the couch comfortable. The netflix logo was prominent on the large telly, as Chan patted the seat next to him.

“Bub, you didn’t have to all this!” You gushed as you got under the covers next to him. You cuddled up into his side as he placed his arm around you, kissing the top of your head as you did so. 

“I will never be able to sleep, knowing you won’t sleep well, so we might as well.” He smiled looking down at you, soon switching his attention to the plethora of movies the streaming service. You sighed happily and turned your attention to the same thing. You ended up picking a stupid-looking movie, making fun of the characters as the plot escalated. 

Chan made a comment about the main character that would one hundred-percent have made you laugh, so when you didn’t he looked down at you, a smile slapping across his face when he saw the sight. You were sleeping, soft snoring being the only sound you made. Seeing you peaceful was enough for Chan to turn off the movie and adjust the two of you so you were sleeping on his chest, slowly raising and falling with every breath he took. That way he too could soundly sleep, knowing you were safe.

this shit took me two fucking days. this is usually done in like a few hours- bUT NOOOO I HAD TO GET INVESTED. whatever. I hope you liked it! Feel free to request again!

-Bentley

[luffles424]

Stay

☼ Pairing: Yoongi x reader

☼ Genre: historical!au, king!Yoongi, assassin!reader (it’s not what you think), light angst, fluff, smut

☼ Count: 3K

☼ Warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, teasing, biting, face fucking, dom!yoongi, bratty!reader, spanking, hair pulling, fingering, dirty talk, orgasm denial, soft sex

☼ Summary: Sneaking into the king’s quarters is as easy as breathing for you. The sneaking out though, might prove to be a little more difficult this time.

☼ a/n: Because we all thristy for our boy Agust D uwu Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

Yoongi enters his chambers, door closing on the guards posted out from and relief flows through him now that he’s finally alone for the day. If he had to have one more meeting or talk to another person, he might have just screamed. He itches to get out of his royal robes, feeling too confined by the luxurious silks and the burden they bring. The small golden crown is tugged from his topknot and he loosens the hair enough for it to hang in a ponytail instead of a bun, tossing the golden accessory to the small dresser with little care. His headband quickly follows and he rubs at his forehead, hoping that if he rubs enough maybe the ache will finally leave.

“You know, you should really fire your palace guards, your highness.”

Yoongi startles, whirling on the intruder, hand resting on the small dagger he keeps tucked away at all times just in case. He relaxes instantly when he realizes that it’s just you. You grin at him, lounging across his bed. 

“Or perhaps my assassin shouldn’t be sneaking around my palace.” Yoongi quips back, turning back to the dresser and shedding the rest of his accessories now that he knows that there’s no threat. 

“I merely seek to ensure your safety, your highness. That means testing your guards to ensure they’re capable of doing their jobs and protecting you.” You watch as he slowly removes the trappings that mark him as king, until he stands there in nothing more than a thin undershirt and his pants. He looks lighter like that. 

He turns to face you, head tilted and his scar stands out in the low light. The reason you're so adamant for his safety, the one time someone had gotten through all the defenses and not because they were just testing the guards. It hadn’t even been to get to Yoongi, but to get to you through Yoongi. You’ve never forgiven yourself for what happened to him. Despite his constant reassurances that he didn’t blame you in any way for what happened. 

But you still felt guilt and so you offered yourself to his service, in secret of course. They’d never accept a woman as a warrior, so Yoongi kept you in the shadows, which suited you just fine, you worked best in the shadows anyway. 

Yoongi draws you from your thoughts as he approaches, features softening. “Are you okay?”

You scoff and sit up. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be, your highness?”

His lips quirk, he looks far too knowing. “Because you only stick to my title in private when something’s wrong.” He reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek. “What’s wrong, my moon?”

You lean into his touch, scooting over enough for Yoongi to climb onto the bed beside you. Instead of saying anything, your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him in for a kiss, hoping to distract him from further questioning.

“Missed you…” You murmur against his lips. 

You feel his momentary smile and then he’s deepening the kiss, hands grabbing your waist to pull you up and over onto his lap. He trails his lips along your jaw to your neck. “Missed you too…” His hand slides down to cup your pussy through your pants. “Missed this pretty little pussy too.”

“Yoongi, please.”

He chuckles, teeth nipping at your skin. “What is it you want? Anything and it’s yours, moon.”

You shudder at his words, trying not to think about the fact that you know he does mean anything. He would give you the world if it would make you happy. That thought is too scary, gives you too much hope. You swallow and ask for the small piece of him you’ve allowed yourself. 

“Want you. Fuck me, please?”

“Always, moon, always.”

His hands slide under your top and you groan at the contact. It’s been so long since you’ve gotten to touch and feel him. But you had to stay away, both for the sake of your mission and because he’s gotten married. A strange woman hanging around and sneaking into the king’s quarters would be hard to explain. The thought of his wife makes your skin crawl. 

You’re sure she’s a lovely woman, but the fact that she gets to be seen with Yoongi in public, gets to touch him whenever she wants makes you equal parts sad and jealous. You wonder if they’ve consummated the marriage yet and your stomach turns. It’s been weeks, it’d be odder if they hadn’t.

Yoongi’s fingers are firm against your cheeks, directing your gaze to his. “Focus on me, moon.”

You are both grateful and hate that he knows you so well. That he probably knows exactly where your thoughts are going. His gaze darkens and he smirks. 

“Seems like someone isn’t going to give me her focus, hm? Am I not enough to hold your attention?” You try to shake your head no, but Yoongi’s firm fingers keep your head still. “Seems like I’m just going to have to teach you a lesson.”

Your body heats at his words and you feel slick drip from your pussy. He pushes you off his lap so you stand in front of him and he leans back on his hands with a cocky smirk as his gaze trails over your clothes. 

“You won’t be needing those,” his gaze meets yours. “Strip.”

You fight down your own smile. “Right here, your highness?” you ask in your best imitation of sweet innocence. 

His gaze goes hooded. “Oh, darling, you don’t want me to do it for you. I suggest you listen.”

You strip out of your clothes slowly, relishing the way Yoongi’s eyes follow each movement until your clothes lay in a pile beside you. 

“You get more beautiful every time I see you, moon,” he murmurs, face softening for just a moment, leaning forward as his fingers trace along the scar that sits along your hip. It’s the matching one to the one on his face, in that you got them from the same person on the same night. You hadn’t even known you had it, too busy focusing on Yoongi. It wasn’t until panic crossed Yoongi’s face that you realized you’d been struck. 

His smirk grows once more and he’s tugging you forward roughly so you splay across his lap. He tugs your hair free of it’s bun, fingers carding through the strands for a moment before his hand trails slowly down your spine, leaving you shivering. He gropes your ass and then his hand is gone, the air quick to cool your warm skin. Quickly his hand is back, landing on your ass with a smack and drawing a gasp from you. Yoongi chuckles as his spanks you again, this time on the opposite cheek. 

“How many, moon? How many do you think you deserve?” he muses and you’re not sure if he’s being rhetorical or actually wants an answer. He rubs at the skin of your ass before smacking the flesh once more. “I think you deserve quite a lot. You’ve been exceptionally bad as of late, moon.” Another, harder than the others. “You’ve ignored me.” Smack. “Stayed away for weeks.” Smack. “For so long that I wondered if you’d died on something I sent you to do.” This smack is even harder, tears gather in your eyes as heat radiates across the skin of your ass. Yoongi’s voice wavers ever so slightly as he continues. “Thought I’d never get to see you again,” smack, “touch you,” smack, “fuck you.”

You squirm in Yoongi’s lap, a mixture of arousal and guilt churning in your stomach. You hadn’t thought Yoongi would have missed you so much. More so, you’d hoped that he would’ve been too busy with new duties to miss you. 

Yoongi catches your squirming, one hand pressing on the small of your back to hold you still while the other slips between your legs, fingers sliding along your damp folds. 

“Seems you enjoyed your punishment, moon.” He slips a finger in and you moan. “Oh, seems you enjoyed it a lot. Naughty little whore, hm?”

He pumps his finger a few times before slipping a second in beside the first, pressing harder against your back when you try to get his fingers to move faster. His fingers move agonizingly slow, seemingly content to prolong your orgasm for as long as it pleases him. 

“Yoongi please…” You whine, attempting to squirm in his grip again.

Yoongi just chuckles and slips a third finger in. “I don’t know, moon. Do you think you deserve my cock? I don’t think you’ve earned the privilege yet. You’re gonna have to work for it first.”

“Yoongi, don’t tease… It’s been so long, please, need your cock.”

Yoongi buries his fingers in as far as they go with a dark chuckle, hand leaving your back to bury in your hair and tug. He presses firmly to that spot inside that makes your toes curl and, hips now free of his hand, you squirm to feel them move and press just right. He indulges you, letting you fuck yourself on his fingers as he presses relentlessly against your g-spot. You gasp his name, orgasm so close you can almost taste it. 

Yoongi tugs on your hair, just shy of too painful. “Oh, did you think I just meant begging?” 

He pulls his fingers free of your pussy and you let out a noise of distress as your orgasm is ripped away from you. He drags the wet digits across your still burning ass and leaves a trail that cools and soothes the skin ever so slightly. He nudges you off his lap, directing you so you’re on your knees between his spread thighs, hand still in your hair and forcing you to tilt your head back to look up at him. “I meant you’re going to have to work for it, moon.” 

Your heels dig into the sensitive skin of your ass and you fight back a wince at the slight sting as Yoongi finally releases you and shucks his undershirt. Yoongi shifts and the tenting of his pants becomes even more pronounced and you lick your lips, reaching out to tug the offending articles off of him. He laughs, lifting his hips to help you shimmy his bottoms down, hard cock slapping against his belly. 

Your hands slide up along his thighs, the muscles flexing under your fingers and you smirk. “What would you have me do for it, your highness?”

His gaze drifts to his cock, hard and leaking against his belly. It’s been so long since you’ve seen it. It’s pretty, a cock truly fit to sit between a king’s legs. He’s thick, not too long, and your pussy clenches at the memory of how well he fills you. You want desperately for him to fill you again.

You wrap one hand around the base, holding it as your tongue darts out to taste the clear liquid gathering at the tip. Humming, you wrap your lips around him, bobbing your head. Yoongi groans, hand moving up to rest on your head, no pressure, just resting. For now. You’ve missed sucking his cock almost as much as you’ve missed him fucking you. 

You keep a slow steady pace, you know he hates slow and teasing after months apart. You also know that it means that he’s going to do something to fix your slow pace. 

Sure enough, you feel Yoongi gripping your hair a few moments later. There’s a growl in his chest when he speaks. “You know I don’t like it when you tease me when I haven’t had the privilege of using your slutty little mouth in a while.”

You hum in answer and you know he can feel the twitch of your lips as you suppress a smile. He hand tightens in your hair and he pushes you further down his cock, speeding your previous motions and forcing you to take him even deeper. Your fingers flex against his thighs and you glance up at him through your lashes. His head is tilted back, mouth opened in pleasure. He controls your movements, keeping you moving up and down his cock without giving you much of a chance to breathe. But even though you can tell that he’s losing himself in the warmth of your mouth, he won’t look at you. He loves watching you when you have your lips wrapped around his cock.

You squirm, you want his attention focused on you, to watch you while you pleasure him. You whimper as he holds you down, nose pressed into the hair at the base of his cock as tears prick your eyes once more. 

He finally glances down at you, a glint of knowing in his eyes. “Problem, moon?” You whine, squirming again. “Oh, my apologies. You can’t very well talk with your mouth full, hm?” He tugs you off, leaving you gasping for air as he chuckles. “Something you need?”

You pant, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Fuck me… Yoongi, please… I need it, need you cock. Please…” You feel a tear trail down your cheek. 

Yoongi reaches out, gently wiping away your tears. “Anything for you. Come here.” He helps you up onto the bed, laying you out on the silks that feel cool against your heated skin. He crawls over you slowly, settling between your thighs. His hair hangs down, creating a blonde curtain around you both. He dips down, lips pressing softly to your swollen ones. 

“Ask me again, moon.”

“Yoongi, fuck me please. I’ve missed you so much.”

He pulls back slightly, still close enough that your lips just barely brush, but far enough that he can actually see you as he finally lines up his cock and sinks into your pussy. You gasp, fingers digging into Yoongi’s back as he bottoms out, holding himself still while he holds your gaze. There’s emotion swimming there that you can’t quite place. 

You lean up to capture his lips in another kiss, anything to keep yourself from having to look into his eyes when it feels like nothing but love. The connection feels cruel when you don’t get the public half of it. You beg him to move and he complies, thrusts measured and languid, savoring the drag of your walls along his cock. Yoongi’s tongue slips into your mouth as his hand trails along your body until his fingers find your clit, drawing experienced motions around it.

“Cum for me, my moon. Cum on my cock. Fuck, it’s been so long, I’m not going to last.” Yoongi trails along your jaw and nips at your neck, leaving a mark as he murmurs his pleas in between. 

It only takes a few moments, your body tuned so perfectly to Yoongi’s touch, before your pussy is spasming around his cock as you cum with a cry. Yoongi is quick to slap a hand over your mouth with a chuckle.

“You can’t be too loud, moon. The guards will come thinking something bad is happening.”

Yoongi’s thrusts remain slow as you ride out your orgasm, whimpering against his hand. Once he’s deemed you through the peak of your orgasm, he speeds his thrusts up, fucking you hard and fast to chance his own orgasm. 

Yoongi cums with a whisper of your name against your lips, warmth spreading as he fills you with his cum. His forehead presses to yours, breath puffing against your lips. He kisses you softly, pulling himself from your pussy and moving to lay beside you. Pulling you close, he buries his face in your hair. 

Tentatively you wrap your arms around him. You can’t stay long, you have to slip away when the guards aren’t near so you don’t get caught. But you can at least allow yourself this moment, to pretend like circumstances were different and that you could always do this. 

You hear Yoongi’s breathing even out and you wait just a little longer before you’re carefully extracting yourself from his embrace. You’re just starting to tug on your clothes when his voice startles you.

“Where are you going?” His voice is soft but you can hear the hurt tinging the words. 

“I… was leaving?”

“Why? Stay with me.”

“Yoongi…” you sigh. “I can’t stay here. You’re the king. You’re married. You can’t just… have some random woman found in your chambers. Especially when she’s an assassin.”

Yoongi pushes himself up, tugging you closer again. “Except I can because I’m king. Moon, please… it doesn’t have to be this way anymore.”

You weakly attempt to pull away, but Yoongi’s hold remains firm. “”You’re married, your highness. We… We can’t be together anymore.” You feel off balance.

Yoongi remains quiet for a while. Your thoughts eat away at you. You shouldn’t have come. But you’re so weak for Yoongi. You missed him so much that you just had to see him again. You can’t do this again. This has to be goodbye.

“I’m not.” It’s Yoongi’s voice that breaks the silence. Voice low but firm. 

You’re confused about what he means. “What are you talking about…” You have a slowly growing suspicion of what he means.

“I’m not married. Not anymore.” He looks up at you, there’s such hope in his eyes that it feels like a punch to the gut. “We can be together.”

“W-what? Yoongi… you can’t be serious. What happened to your wife?”

“Nothing bad, I promise. She’s fine. Much happier not being married to me.” He chuckles slightly. He tugs you closer and buries his face in your belly. “I couldn’t stand the thought of being with someone who wasn’t you.”

You reel from his news. He left his wife? For you? Could you two really be together? You think that he’d face so much backlash. You can’t stand the thought of him getting hurt again because of you. But to finally be with Yoongi the way you have both always wanted. You supposed that if you were around him all the time, then he’d always be well protected. 

“Moon,” he calls softly, drawing your focus back to him. “Stay with me?”

[itsclydebitches]

one of the previous anons here (again)! :0

not to be an "UM ACTUALLY" kinda person, but I think the tinfoil anon was referring to the scene in the training room (where crosshair got stunned by hunter) insteada the scene at sea (rescuing omega and azi).

I'm.... *also* really curious about what he was thinking there, honestly? Like, all that setup to ask his brothers to join the empire with him -- but what did he expect them to say? And it even seemed like he was about to draw his rifle on Hunter, before Hunter stunned him, but the others also had their guns pointed at him? He couldn't have possibly thought he was going to walk away from that in one piece lmao, regardless of whether he outdrew Hunter or not

Anyway, yeah, apologies for cluttering your inbox with the digital equivalent of snail mail these past 48ish hours XD.... I just think these meta posts are neato

OH SHIT if that's the case so sorry other anon, that's my bad 😅

And omg, literally don't worry my inbox is already beyond saving. I've got hundreds of asks spanning back years at this point, stuff I just straight up don't have time to answer and, sadly, probably never will. Cluttered doesn't begin to cover it. If my ask box could embody physical space, it would probably smell like TBB's barracks lol

But YEAH okay, let's talk the stunning scene instead because I love being sad on a Sunday night. What's important for me is that building up to this it's Hunter who is gunning for Crosshair (pun not intended lol). Crosshair has already shown that he's not planning to hurt them by murdering his other team and he's only just started to think over Hunter's "We never were" — in response to his "don't become my enemy" accusation — when all the droids pop up. Yet instead of focusing on them, Hunter immediately jumps on Crosshair. I mean yeah, we as the audience (to a certain, complicated extent) understand why they're so wary of him, but also think about how bad that looks from Crosshair's perspective. You've just proven you're not out to hurt your team, Hunter claims you were never enemies... but the second a fight starts he attacks you. Like you're the enemy. So does Hunter believe what he's saying? So many of the problems here come down to claims vs. action. TBB is really good at saying things to Crosshair, but aren't very good at backing them up with action. Like claiming they wouldn't leave him behind vs. actually not coming back for him during this whole stretch, here we've got "We're not your enemy" vs. Hunter choosing to attack him instead of the droids.

So they tussle a bit and it's only when the droids become overwhelming that Hunter is forced to turn his attention towards them instead. When he does, we see Crosshair thinking for a moment and then we get a preview of that "Oh no, Crosshair is going to shoot Hunter!" scare out on the water: he lifts his rifle, aims in a way that appears to be at Hunter's back, but then shoots over his shoulder to hit the droids instead. We even get two reaction shots to this, Hunter's brief look of surprise and a more overt "Omg, Crosshair is helping" reaction from Tech and Wrecker.

When Wrecker pulls his helmet back down it's with a sense of new determination. The whole squad is back in action! This is (again) proof that Crosshair is not out to be their enemy. He just fought alongside them, protecting them rather than taking advantage of the situation to take them out.

... except that as soon as the battle is finished Hunter immediately has his weapon on Crosshair.

And everyone else follows his lead.

Crosshair had complete trust in them. He had his back turned right before this moment, head in his hand, not at all worried about what his allies were doing. Why would he? They're meant to be allies and the threat (the droids) is gone. Except then he turns around to find that Hunter has his weapon on him after Crosshair just killed for him, after Hunter attacked first, after Crosshair didn't attack when given the chance, and you can see him looking down at his weapon with this sense of resignation.

What was he thinking in this moment? Probably that fighting is inevitable. I don't think Crosshair believes he can make it out of this without being stunned (or shot. I mean, does he know their blasters are set to stun?), but rather that he's just going along with what the others insist is going to happen. Every time he does something to say "We're not enemies" they do something back that says, "We are."

Crosshair doesn't want to fight his team, but Omega releases droids to help them battle him.

Crosshair wants to fight the droids, but Hunter attacks him instead.

Crosshair does fight the droids when given the chance and thinks that's it, he's proven his trustworthiness, but Hunter has him at gunpoint the second it's over, as do the others.

Every time he tries to do something to show he's not their enemy — "Don't make me your enemy" he says. That's what he's trying not to be — they turn around and frame him as the enemy anyway, whether it's attacking him instead of a droid, Tech telling Wrecker he's beyond talking to, or all of them assuming he's out to shoot Hunter instead of save Omega. This is an ongoing trend that just snowballs the longer things go on. Have you watched Grisha? You know the Darkling's line, "Fine, make me your villain"? To my mind it's sorta like that only with Crosshair having better grounds to make that claim than the Darkling did lol. Raising his gun isn't about thinking he can win this fight. It's also not about wanting to fight — he's made it very clear that he doesn't want that at all. It's much more of a resigned, "Fine, if this is the road you insist on going down, I'll oblige you."

"This is who I am," Crosshair says and Hunter has made it clear, several times over, that "this" is TBB's enemy. Crosshair didn't want that, but it's what they're insisting on, so an enemy is going to defend themselves by shooting back. Which is when he's knocked out, wakes up drowning, is saved by Omega, learns the Empire tried to kill him, and is back to his half angry/half desperate, "Can you please not think of me as the enemy for two seconds and hear what I have to offer?"

As for what he thought his brothers would say in regards to joining the Empire, that offer he has... I think he thought they'd say yes. Whether that belief is born of his own, twisted reasoning, or if there is still something going on with the chip, Crosshair prioritizes their safety and their purpose over the ethics of working for the Empire. When Hunter goes, "We're loyal to each other, not some Empire" that's something Crosshair agrees with. When not forced to try and kill them via the chip, he is loyal to the squad, absolutely, even over what the Empire wants. That's why he kills the Empire's soldiers and disobeys orders to get rid of TBB, instead trying to orchestrate their move into the organization instead. That's not what the Empire wants, it's what Crosshair wants.

So they're both loyal to the team over who they work for, the only problem is a) Crosshair is struggling to believe that they ever considered him a true part of the team — "You weren't loyal to me" — and b) Hunter's loyalty, unlike Crosshair's, actually has a limit. For him, he's not willing to kill civilians to give his brothers a sense of purpose in the world. He's not willing to follow an evil Empire to ensure that they have food and aren't always on the run. For Hunter, his desire to keep the rest of the team safe and happy does not outweigh basic morality (which is a good thing!) They'll figure out a way to survive while also doing the morally correct thing. Crosshair, however, places nothing above his teammates. He'll betray the Empire's orders for them. He'll kill his new team for them. He'll murder whatever innocents it takes to give them a safe, fulfilling life in this new galaxy. The Empire wants him to kill other people's kids? What does he care if the tradeoff is getting a good home for Omega? Something, something, Jedi fear attachments. All of which makes this whole mess all the more tragic. He will do anything — literally, ethically anything — for his squad... and they didn't even come back for him. He'll do anything for them, but they're insisting on being enemies instead. The underlying problem is that Crosshair's way of expressing devotion and care — let me help you join the Empire that's definitely going to take over the galaxy so that you'll be under their all-powerful protection and can live save, happy lives — is something that TBB finds to be repugnant (with, you know, excellent reason). So Crosshair is just standing there, continually offering his heart to them, not understanding why these ethical questions are more important than the only thing he cares about: them. And, again, we don't currently know how much of that warped thinking stems from Crosshair himself, or something that was/is still up with the chip.

Plus, toss in everything else we've discussed about Crosshair's abandonment. He doesn't understand why they care about the Empire's crimes over the protection of their family and he's continually hurt by the knowledge that they won't go as far for him as he's willing to go for them, not realizing that going that far is morally reprehensible. If TBB had tried to rescue him and had approached him as a brother in need of rescue, rather than an enemy, he might be more receptive to their arguments about what's best for the team. Simply because he would have felt like he was still a part of that team. Right now, everything Hunter argues about the evils of the Empire, while 100% true, are filtered through this knowledge that Crosshair isn't a "real" brother anymore. Chip or not, he believes what he's saying and has no reason to think that he's wrong, just that others aren't listening to him. From Crosshair's POV, they wrote him off the second this all started and haven't made a single move to fix things. That's the easiest way to entrench the idea that his way of doing things is right, the only problem here are his brothers who refuse to see it, insisting on opposing him instead, just as they had from the get-go when they left and never came back. To Crosshair, he's reaching out despite (again, from his perspective) the others not deserving it, yet that extended hand is continually slapped away. Nothing in the situation is helping him realize that what he's offering is what's wrong because it's all framed to look like he himself is the problem (see: Tech's little speech to Wrecker). But that's also why Omega's reminder that he's still their brother is so important. He gets a reminder, but Crosshair needs to see that again too. He needs a reason to turn away from the Empire because, whether it's due to the chip or not, the simple argument "This is wrong" isn't doing it for him. I honestly think he'd have left with them if he felt like he could rejoin the squad because, as established, his squad means everything to him. That's the top priority. But so much happened to make Crosshair believe that his brothers don't want him, that they'll only accept him as an enemy, that any offers to join them are made only out of obligation... that all he has left is the Empire. He needs to believe that they accept him as his brother so he can toss the Empire to the curb for what he wanted this whole time: to go home.

tl;dr IT'S SUCH A HORRIBLE MESS lol and this is why I oh so hope season two tackles all this with something resembling respect and nuance. This is one hell of a tangled problem, with lots of justified and inaccurate anger on both sides, so to try and simplify it all into a, "Crosshair is just a bad guy who thinks bad things ¯\_(ツ)_/¯" would be... less than satisfying imo.