#we won't interact to begin this.

[thenexuscollective]

I'm actually flabbergasted to realise that there is blogs and people actively participating in syscourse since ALMOST A DECADE./NEG SRS/

I'm not a "both sides are right" guy/DEAD SRS I'm pragmatic and will support endogenic systems and tulpas because unlike everyone in this community I actually grew up wildly disconnected to said community and labels and had the time to look at things unbiased, but seeing someone(s) being willing to fight the same arguments thrown at them again and again is stupid. not stupid, my bad, but it looks tiring.

even with the best interest at heart I find this useless. I would fight for trans rights and any other minority's rights as long as a fight needs to be done and more. but I would NOT do so by damaging my mental health to debate with people that are either not set on changing their mind by choice, or doing so just for the sake of hurting people. I would just throw some links and resources back and forth and that's it.

my point being.

are you guys ok.

my point being.

how fucked up are you to engage in meaningless fights in an emotional way again and again.

my point being.

I know you're fighting to help people. but I don't trust you./srs

seeing someone, not enjoying, but being able to live through such an emotionally challenging and low-key traumatising/damaging moment(s) normally and seek it again and again is making me feel unsafe.

are you doing this to help people or are you just enjoying fighting for the sake of fighting?

I don't trust you.

I don't enjoy infighting.

to be perfectly clear, we are NOT saying that we are not thankful for the resources brought by these people to the community. we are saying that we low-key wish to disconnect from the entire plural community as a whole. yet again.

-sincerely, a traumagenic, endogenic, spirigenic, willogenic, and protogenic, system with mild dissociation.

[fluentisonus]

I think I mentioned this before in my post a little while ago abt valjean not talking, but reading the barricade section just now & he talks so little. I think the only things he says the entire time is to ask for a gun to shoot down the mattress and to ask for javert & then say he's shot him -- people talk to him plenty but he never replies. and this taken with the fact that it's such a long section without his pov at all it I feel like really shows how much of a sort of. social/communicative wall I guess? he can & does put up sometimes, and how impenetrable & unreadable (& in marius' case disconcerting) it comes across. like even we as readers who know him really well are not getting much from this at all about what he's thinking or feeling or planning, he's incredibly hard to read without that element of internality

[werewolfdog]

We got our very first official Day Program schedule set for June and seeing I'll only get to work with M on Tuesdays of that month depresses me.

[haarute]

it's amazing how almost all of my friendships (and by almost all i mean Every save like three) are ruined by my own self essentially swerving into a wall and crashing on purpose due to my inability to believe my company could ever be even slightly desirable to anyone and i'd rather just burn it all and die than see myself as someone who intrudes and abuses people's kindness out of my own selfish desire to want companionship.

[ulircursed]

for you, neverending

The boundless energy that the tiny pigeon had seemed to exhibit earlier in the evening is bound to run out at some point, and it seems that point is now. Instead of his usual perched position, Cranberry had sat himself completely down upon Andrei's shoulder, legs tucked and head half-burrowed into his wing with just one sleepy eye uncovered to regard his surroundings.

"Here," Andrei says, reaching out a hand towards him to lift him down, but the bird only gives a soft squeal, turning his head away and burrowing tighter against his human's neck. Andrei could feel the gentle, subtle rise and fall of Cranberry's chest, his beak poking into him, though not hard enough to be painful, and his lips quirk indulgently. "Don't fall off, now," he says softly.

He waits until he's reasonably certain the little one had fallen sound asleep before picking him up and depositing him safely into a pocket, where he could remain warm on the trip back to the Abyss. It's about time for the ball to wind down, anyway.

------

When Cranberry next opens his eyes, Andrei is already awake, sitting on the edge of his bed. At the sound of his first, sleepy squeal, he reaches out a finger to stroke at the small, feathered head. "I've something for you," he says.

Andrei catches the exact moment the pigeon perks up when he removes the chain of crystals from under his pillow, how his eyes, even in the dim light of the Abyss, seem to sparkle just as brightly as it had under the brilliance of the chandelier in the previous night.

He hands the gift over, and Cranberry's beak immediately closes around the end of the chain, a series of muffled but delighted squeals accompanying the soft clatter of the crystals against one another as he tugs it along the wood of the bedside table.

(Not for the first, second, or even tenth time, Andrei extends a silent apology to the others in the dormitory.)

Still, he can't help but smile as he watches Cranberry play with his newly beloved toy. How easy it is to satisfy him, to retain a little reminder of that magical evening in the heart of such a small bird. Andrei turns away to prepare for the day ahead.

Perhaps he could allow a little piece of the magic to remain within him, as well.

[kitchensinksurrealism]

thumbnail that says "staying in my band until I feel appreciated" and the video is 3 years long

[h1biscusgal]

The hypnagogic state : how to reach it.

The hypnagogic state is a state where we naturally go into before sleeping, a sweet spot moment before sleeping and still being awake, a state where it is so powerful to be able to shift, get in the void, or basically do anything.

Now it requires NOTHING, it only requires one small thing that might sound tricky.

Staying awake long enough for it to come by on it's own, and actually on average it takes 10-5 mins from each person to enter it aware.

The steps:

Lay flat on your back (not needed, but many results come from laying on the back)

Do. Not. Care, just go with what you usually do to fall asleep, but one thing? You're not falling asleep, you're watching your body fall asleep, that sweet spot where your body is about to fall asleep? That's hypnagogia

Actually don't move, it may give your mind signs you're still not sleeping, now just lay there and try not to sleep while focusing on the blackness behind your eyelids.

You will start seeing flashing images or swirly things or even just flashing lights and imagery, this is the hypnagogia and you managed to reach it in just 10 mins of pretending to be asleep (acc it takes me 4)

Bam, that's the sweet spot, now affirm slowly for the void, or just sense your surroundings for shifting or maybe you can try your shifting method here! This state cannot argue back, you'll be immediately shifting in no time, and slipping in the void is so easy from it.

So really the whole steps is just "lay down, don't move, watch your eyelids, color seen? Hypnagogia reached, method or void procedure done, bam."

I managed to find a post on Reddit on how to keep your body awake, you can try 2 or 3 of them to keep yourself entertained, FULL CREDITS TO THE ONE WHO POSTED IT ON REDDIT (calaie_iscoolio):

"1. Looking in the darkness behind your eyelids

Basically what it says, when you close your eyes, just focus on the darkness until hypnagogic imagery begins to happen i.e. colors, shapes, literally anything that will show. When images begin to show up, do not interact or acknowledge what you are seeing, you can look at it, but don't try to control it and just let the images flow until you feel that the state is induced enough to where it won't disappear because you are "too" awake/aware.

2. "Forearm Up" Method

Another technique that basically helps with people who tend to fall asleep to quickly, basically lay down on your back like usual, lift your hand up in the air where your elbow is resting on your mattress, keep it there and as it slowly falls down that's where you'll begin to fall asleep, it'll drop and basically awake you back up.

I had also seen a shifter mention that they prefer to lay on their stomach and lifting their foot up in the air and basically do the same thing. This technique basically just wakes you back up.

3. Thomas Edison Method

Very similar to the "Forearm Up" Method, basically what Edison had done was he had held a steel ball in his hand, and when he began to fall asleep, the ball will drop and alert Edison awake, another technique to help with people to struggle to stay awake.

4. Imagine Constant Motion

Basically imagining something whether that be an animal or an object constantly moving like a horse galloping, a dogs tail wagging side to side, etc. (Pretty simple, for people who find it much easier to visualize).

5. Tire your body through out the day

During the day, you could do any tasks that would just tire your body out that leads up to your attempt to induce the state, it'll make it much easier for you to get into the state and induce it since your body is already tired enough to relax.

6. Repeating "hypnagogia"

This will mean you have you just repeat the words "hypnagogia" to yourself till you get tired enough and then hypnagogic imagery will eventually appear.

7. Counting

Basically just like regular shifting methods, you could focus on counting up to how much you want to until you begin to get the hypnagogic hallucinations, to keep yourself from falling asleep you could give yourself simple math questions just so it's enough to focus to answer it.

8. Imagining Randomness

Imagine literally anything that isn't related at all, i.e. horse, roof, apple, pen, desk, etc. Visualize and filter through random objects or animals that have no correlation and that will induce the hypnagogic imagery, randomness is key.

9. Focus on breathing

Similar to any shifting method, basically focusing on your breaths is another technique to induce the state. Literally just anything to keep your awareness occupied rather than letting your mind just shut down to go to sleep.

10. Sounds

Listening to anything in your environment, whether that be things happening outside, if it's raining listen to the rain, or if you've got headphones on listen to the music and focus that, keep your focus on the music so you don't fall asleep.

11. "Playing" a song in your head

Not necessarily listening to the song, but imagining the song playing in your head, whether that be your favorite song, if you know how it sounds like, imagine it playing and once you've entered the state, it will naturally play and you'll end up actually hearing the song.

12. Heartbeat

Basically just focus on your heartbeat. Listen to the amount of beats.

These are all the various of techniques you could use, you don't have to stick to one and can basicaally try them out, see which one you feel like works for you and go from there. A tip is also you could pick like 4 or 5 out of these 12 and just filter through the techniques if you can't just stick to one since you get uninterested quickly. (I get bored easily, do I normally do 8, 9, 7 and 4 just so I don't lose interest.)"

Good luck y'all!

[kathaynesart]

And here we go. For the full experience I would recommend reading while listening to THIS SONG. It inspired a vast majority of the scene as well as the timing, though I fear you'd have to read pretty fast to get to the ending at the same time as the song ends, so uh... good luck! Trigger warnings below:

The Day the Sky Bled Red

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT MASTER POST

Whew. I'm so glad to finally be done with these big updates. After over a year I will finally be able to return to my smaller update format.

Some keen viewers might notice the reuse of certain shots from the series. There is very much intentional, though the reason for this will not be made clear until the ending of the arc.

As of the final shot we are FINALLY back to present-day in the Replica timeline (if it wasn't obvious). I'd drop in a timeline for reference but uh... I maxed out on the Tumblr images. Oh well. Hopefully the context clues were enough to help though!

I do want to take a moment to TED Talk about Raph's ninpo, if that's alright. Unlike his brothers, Raph didn't really spend much time trying to come up with unique ways of using his abilities. Why improve what already worked for him? However, I do think one interesting ability could have come naturally to him over time. I always found his way of mentally connecting with his brothers as "Mind Raph" to be a fascinating joke in the series. They way he could help and communicate with his brothers is something that was always really important to him and I see that ability bleeding into his ninpo. Because of this I feel that his Raph clones were always able to find and reach his brothers no matter the distance. His ability to interact with them at the same time was something he was still learning in the series, like when Mind Raph apologized to Leo for taking a moment too long to respond because he was busy helping someone else. Because of this I see his clones being able to react and communicate independently (kind of like Naruto clones), but are in constant connection to the original source, Raph himself. This made it really easy for Raph to relay information to the brothers, though it was seldom needed since Donnie's ninpo tech normally had that covered. On another note, I also wanted to make a point that whenever one of the brothers died in the bad future timeline, it was when they were separated from their brothers. I always liked in the movie how it wasn't until the brothers worked together that they were able to regain their abilities, confront the Krang, and even open portals to different dimensions. I wanted that lesson to resonate in Replica as well, even if subtly. Anyways, thanks for coming to my TED Talk!

The rest of the arc will be a lot less action, but still plenty more emotions. I can't promise that we won't be doing more flashbacks in the future but nothing to the extent of the "Holiday Special." We got a story to get through after all!

Thank you so much everyone for your patience with me as I slowly inch my way through this big story. It means a lot to me! I promise the next update will not be so emotionally draining.

[cavernsandcod]

a little continuation to this post of mine. | 0.8k

cw; dirty dog simon and husband!price, nsfw themes

───────────────

Price knows Simon by the sound of his footsteps.

An ego-driven, menacing gait that makes all the soldiers disunite like the red sea when he travels the corridor. All the small talk and banter comes to a halt when the big man is around, as if he's some sort of bad omen. It's not true, at least John doesn't think so, but that might be a Captain's privilege. He's in charge of the brute, not the other way around.

A dark shadow passes by the stained glass, a masked head held up high. He passes the crack of John's office door, likely intent on avoiding any unnecessary interaction—

—always yes sir, no sir, like a good boy.

"Riley. In here. Close the door." Price calls out, taking off the reading glasses hanging low on his nose, tossing them onto a stack of intel. The soldier stops in his tracks. Doesn't flinch at the serious tone of his superior. It's not the first time he's heard it, won't be the last.

Simon crosses the threshold, shutting the door. Crosses the room in two quick strides like a floating apparition. "Intel?"

"Thankfully, no." Price slowly rises and rounds the oak desk, which feels uncanny. His lips curve into some sort of uneasy smile, crow's feet and lines of age deepening. Makes the air feel calmer, more personable. The Lieutenant stiffens and crosses his arms, his face in a permanent scowl under the black balaclava. Nothing about this is normal.

"I need a favor, Simon." Simon. Not Ghost. "It's about the wife."

Simon turns his head to the shelf beside him, studying the row of framed photos, the majority encapsulating you. The dating stages, youthful and bright-eyed in pubs and restaurants with a thick, hairy arm wrapped around your waist. Then, months after he popped the question��the idyllic wedding in Madrid where you faced each other, hand in hand.

All he remembers of it is the itchy suit and open bar. If he weren't the shell of a man, he might feel bad.

And now, the photos are few and far between. No life to them, just fake smiles with friends and their kids. A hand around your shoulder and a nose in your hair, all while you fight an inner battle. No vacations, no fun. Just the pretty missus to an esteemed Captain.

He was certain you two wouldn't last.

The first time you visited him on base and tried to hide how out of element you felt. Didn't notice the man spectating from the corner, his identity concealed. Or pretended not to. Too sweet for your own good. Ignored for months on end. Mere roommates with the man you married on the off chance he is home. Probably doesn't have time to lay you down proper—

"Well? Simon?"

He shrugs, feigning indifference. "What about 'er?"

"I need you to keep an eye on her for me. Laswell has something for me in Istanbul, and it might be a few weeks." Price responds, fiddling with the band on his left hand.

"Been gone weeks before, Cap. Months, too. She knows how it is by now." Simon retorts, curtly. Their problems aren't his. He's not keen on becoming private security for a boring housewife, either. You live a boring life. Nobody knows where or who you are, except the circle.

"This is different." The captain's tone sours. "She's pulling away from me. Doesn't see things... clearly anymore. If I leave us where we are now, she might not come back. You're the only one I trust." His voice almost splits into something weak. Almost.

Trusting him took years of work and near-death experiences that had them make it home by the skin of their teeth. Some sort of war-bred trauma bond, his shrink said once. John only goes to his appointments out of necessity, not so much his own volition.

They see horrors the paper-pushers don't, and will never, truly digest.

He could talk about personal things, too. The questionable childhood, his marriage, the prospect of children—but doesn't. He's too guarded to hash any of that out.

"So," Ghost begins, head dipping low in thought. "You're asking me to shadow your bird. Follow her... Keep her sound?"

It's not really a question, but the polite thing to do is ask. Simon knows what he should do and what he actually will; always ten steps ahead.

Price nods, letting out a small hum. He pats the hard shoulder standing beside him, a firm pat of approval. "Do whatever you have to."

All it takes is five words. Five words and another lingering stare at the photos of you make his chest pound, fingers twitching in search of action.

In truth, Simon always thought you were captivating—an anthesis to everything he is.

He spent the years of your relationship on the outskirts, curled up on the front porch like a stray that isn't allowed inside, chained and confined to his place. Never broke the rules because he's a patient, headstrong bloke with a few fantasies.

All he needed was an invitation inside.

His cock twitches in the confines of his trousers, the forbidden switch finally flipped.

"Yes, Sir."

[sp0o0kylights]

Sometimes I think of a Steve Harrington that is absolutely exhausted by all the horror and bullshit and trying to keep the kids alive through said horror and bullshit, who watches Eddie rock up to him at the beginning of S4 with a dead eyed, flat stare.

"Steeeeve Harrington." Eddie taunts and peacocks and twirls around him, and all Steve wanted was for a couple months to process the trauma, maybe feel safe enough to start thinking about the future instead of stuck in a never ending anxiety loop of what might happen to Dumbass Near-Deatherson, should Steve go to college or move out of Hawkins (bc all the bad nicknames in the world won't erase the fact that Dustin's family, now. They're all family. And when they need help, they go to Steve.) and now he's suffering the unjust ordeal of being haunted by the high school drug dealer.

"His highness has come down from his castle!" Munson will crow, making a show out of Steve picking up the kids like this is a great battle of wits, a scoreboard between them and not like Steve is half dead on his feet, head aching, dreams full of too many teeth. "Quickly hide behind me, he'll try to cut off your heads!"

"Wouldn't he just cut yours off too?" Lucas asked, though the tone was slightly timid, Sinclair unsure if his joke would be well recieved.

(Steve doesn't care if the kid outright insults him. He still recalls the junkyard, the fight with Billy, the blood staining the kid's headband. Lucas lived, therefore, he can be a shit if wants.)

"Mine? Oh, the King wouldn't dare." Munson tosses his head, full of cartoon energy, too big for his body and grin both. "Many have tried you see, but no one had ever succeeded!"

Steve, equally, does not give a single shit that Eddie Munson has decided to play these games with him--until he realizes he's maybe been a little too exhausted and depressed and morose around the kids.

Watches them getting worried over him, whispering urgently and making dramatic gestures and talking to Robin and suddenly, playing a little tug of war over them the way Munson seems to want feels like a good idea. A way to hide all the rough edges, a way to be fine so they can be fine.

"How about you guys skip the dork brigade tonight," Steve taunts back the next time they're all together, standing like the man he used to be, wearing a dead personality. "And we go do something actually fun instead?"

Eddie laughs, lights up, is all too happy to match him tit for tat, and it's so easy to fake this kind of interaction, rolling his eyes and snapping his gum. Steve could match this energy in his sleep, and never once does Munson catch on that Steve's not doing this for him.

That he's not even looking at him half the time, eyes askew, locked on the kids. Seeing them relax as he banters, seeing Dustin glow as he returns to his favorite position, being the center of attention.

So long as they think he's okay, Steve will be okay. If that means putting up with Munson, then so be it.

Its not like he'll catch on.

Eddie doesnt.

(Or rather, he does--but Its months and several deaths later, when they're in the RV, chasing what feels like literal demons, does it dawn on Eddie what Steve is doing.

Has been doing, the whole time.

Steve, sassy, ridiculous, jock- brained Steve makes the mistake of doing it again, using the same trick he had on the kids to convince them he was fine on Eddie. To further convince Eddie that they were fine as a group.

That they'll survive, they'll figure it out, they'll make it.

Loudly bantering with dead eyes, smiling with a mouth robotically locked in. Jokes on jokes on jokes and all of them making the kids take their minds off VecnaHenryOne to screech ineffectively at their babysitter. Winks tossed to the girls, who both roll their eyed at him. A sly look given to Eddie, to include him.

Its then, that Eddie decides to cement his life with Steve's. Because this loyal bastard of a paladin is too good hearted to die, too protective to not try it anyway. The idiot is cutting himself to ribbons to tie them all together and Eddie can't undo the damage but he can grab all the pieces he can, loop them together.

He can make those dead eyes light up again.

And he does.

This time when things are over Steve finds himself unable to pull those little tricks of his. Every time he slides the mask over his face Eddie rips it right back off again.

They fight, a lot, until they start kissing instead and for a while that also, somehow, feels like fighting but Eddie's real good at this. The emotional part, not so much the kissing, but he knows how to draw Steve out. How to break down walls, and annoying his real personality out.

The kissing was just an odd little side benefit.

A thing they don't talk about.

There's a benefit to it, one he doesn't look very hard into, until strangely, one day, Eddie wakes with Steve's head pillowed on his shoulder and comes to the abrupt conclusion that he's screwed.

Or so he thinks--until bright, loving eyes blink awake, and turn on him, and Eddie realizes just how long it's been since they looked dead.

He wonders, vaguely, how long it'll take for Steve to catch on, that this just got serious.

Will laugh at himself when he learns that Steve already knew.

Guess that's what he gets for finally paying attention.)

[ftmbigbro]

(Contains: free use, dehumanisation)

Section Two, Part 1/3: How to fix a bratty tboy!

Is your tboy talking back to you? Won't he do as he is told? Don't worry, there are a few different ways to fix him! He'll be thanking you for pounding his holes again in no time! In this section we will be going over some easy recommended ways to discipline your boy.

Spanking

In part one of this section, you can read about spanking. Spanking is one of the most proven and efficient ways to punish your tboy. We recommend spanking your boy at least once a week for maintenance, even if he is generally well-behaved. Spankings can be done in front of other people for humiliation. Try inviting your friends over to watch his punishments! Maybe even to use him after! (see Section Two, Part 2/3 on Overstimulation and Continues Use for more on this). When dealing with a bratty tboy, an implement should be used. Try having the implement be something the boy interacts with in his everyday life, such as a hairbrush or a wooden spoon, that way he will be reminded to behave when he sees it. Alternatively, if you wish to use a paddle or a whip on him, try having it displayed in the house as a warning of what is to come.

Before a spanking, the tboy should always have his bottom and pussy completely bared. Don't be afraid to use force to pull his pants and underwear down if needed. If he attempts to cover his pussy with his hand, slap it away and give him a hard swat on his clit, he is your property, he should not hesitate to expose himself for you.

Now, you have several options for how to place him for his spanking. Over the knee, over the armrest of a chair or sofa or over a table are all popular and valid positions, however beware that some boys might attempt to grind their naughty little pussies against anything during the spanking. If you see this happen, turn your tboy around so that he is on his back with his legs spread and continue the spanking directly on his cunt. Other positions for spankings include standing, lying flat on the bed, bent over the bed, or kneeling on bed or sofa. Note that prioritising humiliating the boy is encouraged. Make sure his pussy is exposed and spread.

Now that the boy has been positioned, the actual spanking begins. Make sure you don't hold back. The punishment should fit the crime, of course, but don't be distracted by begging, crying or kicking. In fact, the most obedient boys will just take the punishment without making a scene, so this is a sign you should be hitting harder. Make sure both buttcheeks and the upper thighs have a nice rosey colour before you move on to spanking his cunt. Front-spankings are just as important as bottom-spankings and should be administered with the same force. His pussy will likely be dripping at the attention, this is a good sign, it shows that he is ready for use after you finish the punishment. Make sure to spank both his hole, clit and mount, as well as the soft folds. When it's swollen and red and your boy is leaking and sniffling, he should be fixed and ready to behave for you. If not, continue with the guidance of part 2 of this section.

After a spanking, it is recommended to give your tboy some time to think about his actions, either stood in a corner or standing positioned with his ass and pussy on display. However if you do wish to use him immediately after the punishment, he will likely be very obedient and his pussy will be wet and tight and ready for you to pound.

[unboundprompts]

Hello! I've been struggling with how to depict and voice an eldritch horror entity. They are far removed from this universe, so I'm at a loss at how they would speak and act when interacting with a host/human. Can you help me and/or give me examples of what that might look like?

How to Give an Eldritch Horror Entity a Voice

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

Emotionless Curiosity or Cruel Fascination

The entity may observe humans like a scientist would observe test subjects. It is not inherently evil, just so far removed that it doesn't comprehend pain or morality.

Example: "You break so easily. Such a soft mind, blistering with thoughts. Why do you weep?"

Example: "Fear. I recognize the shape of it now. Like heat in the bones."

Predator and Prey

The entity is aware of its power but it enjoys the chase. It is patient, and speaks low and slow to stretch out the dread.

Example: "I can hear your pulse like music. Louder now. Louder still."

Childlike and Curious

The entity is innocent and sounds sweet and playful, but does not understand the reality of what it is doing.

Example: "You're leaking! Why do you leak like that? Should I put it back in?"

Timeless Watcher

The entity speaks as if it has witnessed countless lives, deaths, and civilization. Everything the human feels is insignificant.

Example: "You are not the first to beg. The first was a king with gold in his mouth."

Curious but Growing Self Awareness

The entity is just beginning to understand language, humans, and itself.

Example: "Pain. You... do not like it."

Example: "Lonely. That is the word. I have never been lonely before you."

Foreign Language

The entity can't (or won't) use grammar like a human. It might communicate in fractured bursts, in symbols, in numbers, etc.

Example: "Lightlightdarkfolding--fold--fold--fleshwrongYES."

Example: "WE--I--MANY come through the not-between. Hello. Hello. Nothello."

Nonverbal Communication

The entity doesn't speak in the traditional sense. It communicates via dreams, hallucinations, physical sensations, etc. Words might appear as taste, as pain, or involuntary thoughts in the character's mind.

Example: She smelled salt and rotting roses. Then the message came: "Let me in."

Example: He tasted metal and heard weeping in the back of his mind.

[littlejuicebox]

You'll stay still, won't you, little love?

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav

Summary/Setting: Sometime in the beginning of Act 3; you and Astarion are exploring intimacy/sex

Rating/Warnings: M+ / 18+ only please/ Smut with little to no plot / Light BDSM / Soft Dom Astarion vibes / Some mild in game spoilers / PiV / CW / fingering / teasing and overstim if you squint / not beta read or edited too much

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: I'm a degenerate, idk what else to tell you guys. I’m shocked this came out of my brain, but here we are. Enjoy or be totally flabbergasted or avoid it entirely I don’t know about you all but I simultaneously want to do all three. 💀

-----

You suspected Astarion enjoyed exploring intimacy with you, perhaps more than he thought he would. The first few weeks after his confession at Moonrise Towers resulted in a rather chaste arrangement between the two of you. Days were filled with stolen pecks and occasional hand holding between missions; nights were spent mostly cuddling half-naked or sometimes simply making out.

When a situation became particularly heated, he would always break away, panting. The flush on his face and the thrumming of his undead heart told you he enjoyed these moments, and his erection pressing into you always became quite the distraction. 

Gods, how badly you wanted more. But you had to force yourself to pull back and allow him to take the lead, never pushing further than he was willing to give. 

For a few weeks, a bit of grinding and caressing above the waist was as far as Astarion would advance. But shortly after leaving the Shadowlands, something within the silver-haired elf changed. He’d become quite intent on exploring your body almost every night, putting his masterful fingers and tongue to work, almost desperate to watch you come undone.

“You don’t have to, Astarion,” You pant one evening, after a few weeks of nearly daily interactions quite similar to this one. The rogue was working his nimble fingers inside the edge of your small clothes, aiming to delve into your already soaking folds. The bulge of his cock, barely covered by his own underwear, pressed against your rear as he slowly rocked his hips into you.

“I know, my love,” He murmurs, removing his mouth from where it had been tenderly suckling your neck. The vampire licks along the fresh love bite, eliciting a little whimper of pleasure from you. And then he smirks as his fingers find the already engorged bundle of nerves between your legs, causing you to instinctively buck toward him with a whine, “But I want to. I quite like the pretty little sounds you make for me, you know.” 

He continues his ministrations for a few moments, reveling in your desperate keens. Nothing else stroked Astarion’s ego quite like this. 

“Darling, I’d like to try something different tonight, if you don’t mind.” He purrs as his fingers change their rhythm from the languid circles over your clit to gentle, teasing strokes between your folds. The rogue’s hand dips just enough to tease your entrance with two digits before he retracts again, leaving you mewling in frustration.

You need more. He knows it. And he aimed to give you more tonight, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to toy with you for a moment or two.

“What is it, Astarion?” You ask breathlessly, as he pauses his movements entirely. You whine again and then turn your head to look at the rogue, where he is smirking down at you, clearly enjoying the desperation he’s elicited from his lover. You are caught between his cock and his hand, slowly rolling your hips back and forth, practically begging the silver-haired elf to fuck you with his fingers. 

“I want you to come on my cock tonight.” He responds, arching his eyebrow just slightly, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “If that’s what you want, my sweet.” 

Your eyes widen in shock, and you swear you feel yourself grow more slick at the mere suggestion. You lick your lips, attempting to moderate your own excitement, trying to avoid making him feel obligated in any way. Astarion’s fingers have resumed their teasing movements, and the newly found wetness causes the vampire to chuckle in delight. 

“Judging by the slickness of your perfect little cunt, that certainly is what you want. Am I correct, love?” He purrs into your ear, fangs grazing against your lobe as he rolls his growing erection toward your ass once again.

“Y-yes,” You gasp, and as soon as you do, Astarion rips your underwear from your body before tossing the ruined undergarment across the tent. 

“Then you will get what you want on one condition, darling.” He continues, and you feel the engorged head of his cock stroking between your folds from behind. The sensation makes you shiver in delight; you desire nothing more than to have him buried inside you.

“What is it?” You ask, instinctively rolling your hips back against him again, moaning when his length rubs against your clit.

Astarion grabs your hip firmly, digging his nails into the side of your ass and ceasing your movements entirely. You whine and then he’s practically laughing in your ear, you can feel how entertained he is by your predicament. He places a tender kiss on your neck before he purrs, “You aren’t allowed to move one bit, sweet girl, or else I will pull out and leave you with nothing.”

You groan in dismay at this stipulation, “Astarion! I don’t- I don’t know if I can hold still.” 

“Oh but my love, the choices are simple,” He continues, his voice playfully condescending as his other hand wanders up to lightly tease a nipple, ripping another little moan from you, “You can either be filled by my cock or by my fingers. So which will it be?”

You whine as the male elf uses one hand to stimulate your breast and the other to barely plunge into your sex again.

“Your cock!” You cry, unable to contain yourself any further, “I want your cock.”

Astarion chuckles, quite content with this response. He slides his erection between your folds again, using your arousal to lubricate his length, “And you’ll stay still, won’t you, little love?”

“Yes, I won’t move,” You agree, and this earns you a delighted groan from the vampire. He reveled in the power dynamics of your coupling, and your willingness to surrender control in the bedroom.

“Good girl,” He coos, and then he’s pressing himself into the entrance of your sex. You moan as the head of his rock-hard cock stretches your cunt; there is a bit of resistance at first; it’s been several weeks since more than two fingers have been inside you, after all.

He takes you inch by inch, slowly dragging himself along your velvet walls. Before long, Astarion’s length has filled you completely, and you’re basking in the sensation of being stretched by your lover.

His breath is ragged behind you as he struggles to remain in control, almost entirely overcome with the desire to simply have his way with you. But that’s not the game tonight, he reminds himself. 

In one swift motion he’s rolled you both so that you are straddled over him, your back pressed to his chest. He uses his knees to spread your legs wide, fully opening you up for his seasoned hands to explore. His long fingers drag over your stomach and then travel down between your legs, where they easily find that sensitive nub.

“How does it feel to be sitting atop my cock, darling?” Astarion asks as he slowly, teasingly strokes his slender fingers up and down on your drenched folds.��You are seeping arousal at this point, coating him with his well-deserved reward. His cock throbs at the thought.

“Wonderful,” You respond, honestly but breathlessly as you struggle to keep yourself from rolling your hips at all. Your legs are positively shaking with the effort to exert such control, and the little tremors running along your spine are urging the vampire on.

Astarion guides your own hand up to your breasts, where he urges you to tease your own nipple. He palms the flesh of the other breast in one hand as he continues to drag his nimble fingers around your throbbing bud.

You are instinctively clenching around him now, your body desperate to milk every ounce of seed from the vampire. Astarion himself is shaking with the amount of restraint it’s taking him to not lift his hips and fuck up into your warmth. 

You cannot restrain yourself any longer, your hips buck and you’re instantly rewarded with the delicious sensation of Astarion’s length running against your walls. But then a sharp, stinging smack singes the side of your ass, and a shocked gasp escapes your lips.

“What did I say, darling? Be a good girl and hold still. Try that again and I will pull out.” The rogue warns while speeding up his efforts on your clit.

You sharply pinch your own nipple, trying desperately to keep yourself from moving any more. But gods, how badly you want to. You’re so close. Your walls are clenching tighter and tighter, and the sensation is causing Astarion to grunt in response. He’s trying just as desperately to hold back as you quiver around him, tempting him to do the exact opposite.

His hips buck just once before he regains control and stills himself, but gods the walls of your tight pussy wrapped around him felt divine. The sharp thrust made you moan loudly in delight, and your entire body was shivering from the self-control you were using to hold still. He felt you standing on the precipice of pleasure, so close to the edge. You just needed a little push to fall into a world of ecstasy, and that, he could provide.

“Let go, little love. Come for me,” He whispers hoarsely, and the command sends you tumbling over the edge. You feel the wave crashing over you, rippling through your sex and up to your spine. You clasp your hand over your mouth as you whine, signaling your release.

You are mid-orgasm when Astarion roughly grabs both sides of your hips and hisses, “Fuck it.” 

And then he’s thrusting upwards, repeatedly burying himself inside you, intent on fucking you through the second half of your orgasm. You cry out in pleasure as the vampire moans into the side of your neck, continuing to piston himself into you as he chases his own release.

Once again, his fingers find their way to your over-sensitive clit and he’s working at it frantically, in the practiced motion he knows to be your favorite. You keen and try to clamp your legs shut; the sensation is almost too much. But Astarion growls and forces your legs open with his knees as he quickly brings you to the edge of another orgasm.

Your lover is panting with exertion as he holds back his own release. Through gritted teeth he urges you on, using the hand not playing with your clit to grab your hip and slam you down to meet his thrusts.

“One more, darling. You can do one more, can’t you? Let go, I’ve got you.” He coaxes, his voice near breathless but filled with gravel.

“Oh, fuck!” Is all you can respond as the second orgasm rips through you, stronger than the first. You’re seeing stars as your pussy throbs around Astarion’s shaft, rewarding his efforts with a deliciously tight grip and another gush of your delectable juices. The high-pitched, uninhibited whine that escapes you while you’re drowning in ecstasy is music to the rogue’s ears.

As your greedy cunt clenches around him again during that second wave of pleasure, Astarion emits a strangled moan of his own.

He buries his face in your neck as he soon struggles to buck forward, shakily dragging his sensitive, swollen length in and out of your walls just a few more times before he buries himself balls-deep. Thick ropes of his spend shoot up into your warmth as he groans, consumed by his own euphoria behind you. His cock continues to pulse for a few moments longer, urged on by the relentless spasming of your sex around him.

Both of you are heaving and shaking slightly once he finally relaxes his legs. You’re still laying atop him as he slowly roams his hands over your body, idly stroking your curves in soft, soothing motions.

“I thought you said we couldn’t move,” You finally say, voice completely hoarse from the cries of ecstasy you uttered moments ago.

“I said you couldn’t move, darling. I didn’t say anything about me.” The vampire responds with a self-satisfied smirk as he playfully nips at your earlobe, “Are you truly complaining that I did all the work?”

“No,” You respond, finally pulling yourself off of the vampire, releasing the slick combination of your respective arousals as it drips between the two of you. “But at some point I’d like it to be me making all that effort to bring pleasure to you.” 

He pulls you down beside him with a little hum. You pull the blanket over the two of you. No other words are exchanged as you drift to sleep, thoroughly exhausted by the events of the day and this satisfying but unexpected evening. Astarion watches you sleep, and for the first time he allows himself to acknowledge that he might also like to let you have a bit of control in the bedroom… perhaps next time.

[softsunnyy]

Ok ..I feel like I can be a whore here so I’m going to. jack fucking you in front of his brothers. No shame, just letting them watch.

here we can all be whores, don't be afraid to ask for whatever u want 🫶🏻

i may or may not have gone a little further, and maybe... they didn't just watch

🚨 sex in front of his brothers, use of the word whore, he lets his brothers have some action. Swallowing cum. Cumming inside you. Undressing in front of more than one man. Denying you the power to cum. Just a lot of sex without a plot. Let me know if you want a part 2 🚨

as always, poorly written

Jack honestly doesn't care, not enough. Not when you're wearing those clothes and looking at him with those eyes. He wants to take you, fuck you until he's bored, until he's dry.

and sometimes you gotta do it where you gotta do it. Even if it's on the couch in the house, in front of his brothers.

Jack started by touching your bare leg, moving up until he bumped into the hem of your (his) shirt. He knows that you're only wearing your panties and bra, as if his brothers weren't home, as if you didn't know that every time you bend over, everyone in that house takes the opportunity to look at you.

his hand touches you over your underwear, and you look up at him quickly, your eyes widening, filled with panic, and your mouth falling open, as if you wanted to say something but couldn't. That's when he takes advantage, touching you, his gaze fixed on the tv. They still hadn't realized.

it's when his fingers move your panties to the side, rubbing your clit, that your gasps become a little louder, more noticeable. You try to close your legs, but one look from him is enough to make you regret it, opening them again for him.

your arousal began to soak his hand, making it move more smoothly, allowing him to travel between your folds until he could reach your hole.

"is he gonna do it?" you wondered, and your eyes traveled to Quinn and Luke, making eye contact with the older man, who then looked down at your legs, letting you know that yes, at least he's noticed.

Jack noticed you weren't looking at him anymore, and after seeing that interaction between you and his brother, he decided to insert two of his fingers into your pussy, pushing them as deep as the position allowed, drawing a moan from you that finally broke the barrier, catching Luke's attention. Luke shifted for a moment, kinda nervous in his seat, trying not to look, but failing in the face of his needs.

Jack began to move his hand, stretching your tight walls, pushing in, making you arch your back, trying once more to close your legs, feeling his fingers touch deep inside you, as always, creating a pool of your fluids, and making your cheeks turn red knowing you're being watched, knowing your moans are being heard by someone other than just your boyfriend.

and you feel guilty, because you like it, because you can't help but notice the way Quinn starts rubbing his cock covered by his sweatpants, or the way Luke licks his lips and places a hand over the bulge starting to form. What they were watching on tv is quickly forgotten. It was far less entertaining than the show that's happening now.

Jack knows how to move, which spaces to touch inside you to have you whimpering, wanting, eager, and that's exactly what he's doing, feeling your walls begin to squeeze him a little tighter, and your legs shaking against his hand, letting him know you're close. Then he stops. He pulls his fingers out of you, and you look up at him with a pout, whimpering his name, begging him to let you cum, but he won't budge, and instead forces you to stand up.

"take off your shirt. I'm pretty sure you love being seen as a whore," was what he said, and you stood up, trying to ignore the stares, feeling your face completely red and on fire. Your hands slowly removed his shirt, revealing your covered tits and your body marked by old and new bites that Jack has left on you, creating bruises, some grotesque, but which managed to turn on his brothers even more.

it feels forbidden, wrong. They're watching their brother's girlfriend strip in front of them, eager to be taken by a big cock that can destroy her body. The thought alone drives them wild, and Jack knows it.

"come on, give them a show," he ordered this time, and this time you didn't hesitate, taking off your bra, showing them your beautiful tits, then following with your panties, showing them the stain of your arousal. Jack grabbed your panties and threw them to Luke, who didn't hesitate to smell them, even licking the wet patch, all the while staring at you. And you could only watch him back, feeling how that action made you even wetter.

you feel like a whore, desired by more men, leaving your body at the disposal of your boyfriend and his brothers. You never thought it would happen, but you don't care, it doesn't bother you, it makes you feel good.

Jack puts his hands on your waist and moves you, making you return to the couch, face down and ass up. Luke from his position will be able to see the action happening in your pussy, but Quinn? Quinn will be able to see your face, the way you're going to moan and cry because of how well you're going to be fucked, and the thought alone makes him act, taking his cock out of his pants, showing it to you, letting you see his long cock, standing proud, veiny, with its tip swollen as if it were ready to release its cum.

it doesn't take long for Jack to strip off his pants and underwear, positioning himself behind you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your hole, pushing his way between your folds, making you gasp, trying to move back so you can feel him closer. He teases, laughs at your desperation, and decides to play with you a little more, moving away from your body just a little, enough so Luke can get an even better look.

"see that? her pussy's drooling, she's soaked," he described for him, using his tip to slap your clit. "She loves it when i do that, because it hurts, and she loves feeling it." This time he looks at Quinn, who's slowly masturbating his cock, looking into your eyes, making you feel embarrassed, on display.

Jack rubs himself a little more, almost exhausting everyone's patience, until he decides to make his way into your gummy walls in one movement, coming deep inside you, making your mouth open and your eyes close, moaning deliciously, making Quinn close his eyes for a few seconds, squeezing his cock a little harder before looking back at you. Luke took his cock out of his pants, wrapping your underwear around it, feeling your fluids slightly wet his dick, which made him whine.

when Jack started moving, he started gently, showing his brother the way your pussy swallows his cock inch by inch, and the way his cock pops out of you glistening with your arousal, with how wet you are and how well you receive him. But then he started moving, hard, direct, making your throat tear with loud, noisy, desperate moans. Your hands gripping the couch, your knees burning from the friction against the fabric, your ass stinging from the way his body slams against yours.

the place smells of you, of sex, and it's so strong that all four of you are dizzy, acting almost on instinct, wild. Your inner thighs are wet, and the sound of his cock going inside of you, colliding with your fluids, makes an obscene noise that accompanies the sound of Quinn and Luke now jerking their cocks fast and hard.

and you feel yourself wanting to cum, but you don't know whether to warn Jack. But oh, he knows, he knows you, and he starts moving faster, more desperately, more intensely. Quinn enjoys watching your face transform, moaning so loudly he knows your throat will hurt later. And Luke? Luke longs to taste the way your walls can suffocate a cock, swallowing it whole.

"Jack... Jack! i'm gonna... please," you begged, so desperately that tears started to stream down your cheeks.

this time he gave in, letting you cum, squeezing his cock so hard he could barely move, but he did it anyway, overstimulating you, ignoring your crying, your sobs, and the way your legs wanted to buckle and give up. His hands held you still, and he kept moving until he came, filling you with his cum and slapping your ass.

you feel full, content, satisfied, and you think it's over. Until you see Jack look at his brothers before pulling out of you. A bit of his cum coming out of your pussy.

that's when Quinn and Luke get up from their seats. Quinn walks up to you, placing himself in front of your mouth, and you unconsciously open it, sticking out your tongue, letting him cum there, filling your mouth with thick, white cum, which you swallow, happy, like a good whore. Behind you, Luke is even bolder, taking advantage of your distraction, thrusting the tip of his cock inside you, unloading his cum against your walls, which were already holding your boyfriend's cum. This made you moan once more, feeling more and more fluids inside you.

Jack watched proudly.

but believe me, this isn't the end... or is it?

[ghstyles]

Customer Service | His Angel

· · ───────────·────────── · ·

Pairing: College!Yn x CrimeBossl!Harry

WC: 2.1k

Summary: As a dare, Harry works a normal job for a day

His Angel Masterlist

· · ───────────·────────── · ·

The morning sun filters through the windows of Book & Bean, the cozy café/bookshop where you've worked part-time throughout college. It's your sanctuary, a place of normalcy far removed from Harry's world of luxury penthouses and tense business meetings that end with people disappearing.

The dare had started as a joke during one of Harry's condescending rants about "civilian jobs" after you complained about a difficult customer. Your challenge, "I bet you couldn't last one day in my shoes", had been met with that dangerous smile that meant he'd accepted.

One extremely uncomfortable conversation with your manager later (during which you'd explained that your boyfriend was "interested in retail experience" and conveniently left out his actual occupation)

The bell above the door chimes at precisely 9:00 AM and every muscle in your body tenses in anticipation. Harry enters with the same commanding presence he brings to everything. Confident, borderline arrogant, surveying the space as if assessing territory rather than entering a workplace.

A smile curves his lips when he spots you with the genuine, warm expression reserved solely for you that still makes your heart skip after all this time. He crosses to where you stand behind the counter, leaning in to press a brief kiss to your lips.

"Morning, angel," he murmurs against your mouth before pulling away. "Ready to show me how the other half lives?"

The amusement dancing in his eyes tells you he's approaching this as entertainment rather than a serious challenge. A fact that does little to ease your growing apprehension. The truth is, you have absolutely no idea how Harry will handle taking orders rather than giving them, following someone else's rules rather than making his own. The only certainty is that it won't be boring.

"Harry, this is my manager, Ellie," you introduce quickly. "Ellie, this is Harry."

Ellie extends a slightly trembling hand, clearly intimidated despite Harry's relatively casual appearance. "Nice to meet you! Y/N’s told us...well, actually, very little about you."

Harry's smile doesn't reach his eyes as he shakes her hand briefly. "Has she now? Interesting."

"So, Harry, Y/N will show you the basics at the register first," she says, her usual authoritative tone notably subdued. "Just follow her lead."

Harry nods once, accepting the green apron Ellie holds out to him with obvious reluctance.

"I don't wear aprons," he states flatly, the garment dangling from his fingertips as if it's personally offensive.

Ellie blinks rapidly. "Oh, um, it's actually store policy for all employees to—"

The look Harry gives her makes the words die in her throat.

"Harry," you say, interrupting them. "Please"

.That 'please' and the little look in your eyes is exactly the reason you are now watching Harry Styles adjust the apron over his crisp white shirt, looking like he's preparing for battle rather than a shift serving coffee.

"The green apron clashes with your murderous aura," you tease quietly as you tie yours on.

He gives you a flat look. "I own businesses worth more than this entire block."

"And yet you've never made a latte," you counter with a smile. "Remember the deal, you have to actually try, and you have to follow the rules."

Harry's jaw tightens, but he nods once. "One shift. Then we never speak of this again."

The morning rush begins, and for the first hour, things go surprisingly well. Harry observes your interactions with customers, his expression neutral as he memorizes the point-of-sale system with unsettling speed. When you step aside to let him handle his first customer, you hold your breath.

"Welcome to Book & Bean," he says, his voice lacking the warmth you typically use but professionally neutral. "What can I get you?"

The middle-aged woman hesitates, studying the menu board. "Hmm, I'm not sure...what do you recommend?"

A flash of irritation crosses Harry's face. "Coffee."

The woman blinks. "Well, yes, but what kind, "

"The kind you want," Harry interrupts. "There are fifteen options on the board. Pick one."

You jump in quickly. "Our caramel macchiato is popular! Or the house blend is excellent."

The customer orders hastily, clearly unsettled by Harry's intensity, and you give him a warning look as you prepare her drink.

The next customer approaches cautiously, a businessman who takes an incoming call while standing at the register.

"One second," he mouths to Harry, holding up a finger while continuing his conversation.

Harry waits exactly five seconds before speaking. "Either order or move."

The man looks up, startled. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Harry says, his voice dropping to that quiet register that makes your stomach tighten with recognition. "Order. Or move."

The businessman ends his call immediately.

By mid-morning, a pattern emerges. Harry is surprisingly efficient, memorizing orders, handling money with practiced ease, and maintaining the precise, methodical movements of someone accustomed to control. But his customer service is...problematic.

When a college student complains that his americano isn't strong enough, Harry simply stares at him, unblinking, until the young man mumbles that it's "actually fine" and retreats to the farthest table.

A woman who changes her order three times finds herself on the receiving end of a smile that never reaches Harry's eyes as he says, "Are you certain? Because this is the last time you'll be able to change your mind."

Ellie approaches you as you're restocking cups. "Is your boyfriend always so...intense?"

"He's just taking it seriously," you offer weakly. "He's very...detail-oriented."

She glances over at Harry, who is precisely arranging pastries in the display case with the focus of someone disarming a bomb. "He's scaring the regulars."

The real trouble begins during your lunch rush. You're handling the espresso machine while Harry works the register, maintaining an uneasy efficiency, when Jake, a persistent grad student who's been asking you out despite your polite refusals, approaches the counter.

"Hey, Y/N," he calls over Harry's shoulder. "Looking good today. When are you finally going to let me take you to dinner?"

Before you can respond with your usual deflection, you sense the shift in Harry's posture, the subtle straightening that happens just before situations in his world turn dangerous.

"What can I get you?" Harry asks, his voice so deliberately controlled it raises alarm bells in your mind.

Jake finally focuses on Harry, taking in his cold expression with obvious confusion. "Uh, just a large cold brew. So anyway, Y/N, "

"$4.75," Harry interrupts.

Jake hands over a ten-dollar bill. "Keep the change if you give me five minutes to talk to your coworker here."

The temperature in the room seems to drop several degrees as Harry pockets the ten without breaking eye contact.

"Your drink will be ready shortly," he says, making no move to provide change. "And she's not available for conversation."

Jake's confusion turns to indignation. "Dude, that's my change. And I'm talking to Y/N, not you."

Harry leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur that somehow carries to where you're standing. "Consider it a fee for wasting her time. She's not interested. She has a boyfriend."

"What kind of customer service is this?" Jake demands, looking around for support. "Where's the manager?"

Ellie emerges from the back room, sensing trouble. "Is there a problem here?"

"Yeah, your new guy stole my change and is being a complete, "

Harry cuts him off with a smile that makes you wince. "I was just explaining our new policy regarding harassment of staff."

Jake sputters, looking between Harry and Ellie. "I wasn't, "

"You've been told no six times in the past month," Harry states with terrifying precision. "Your drink is ready. I suggest you take it and leave."

The way he says "suggest" makes it clear it's not a suggestion at all.

Jake grabs his cold brew and exits quickly, the bell above the door jingling cheerfully in contrast to the tense atmosphere he leaves behind.

Ellie turns to Harry with a mixture of confusion and concern. "Harry, while I appreciate you looking out for staff, we have protocols for handling difficult customers. You can't just keep someone's change."

Harry's expression remains neutral, but you recognize the dangerous glint in his eyes. "Your 'protocols' haven't stopped him from bothering her weekly. My way worked."

"That's not the point," Ellie insists, finding her managerial voice. "As long as you're working here, you need to follow our procedures. I need you to–"

She falters as Harry turns his full attention to her, his gaze assessing in a way that makes her instinctively step back.

"Need me to what?" he asks softly.

You intervene quickly. "Harry, can you help me with something in the stockroom? Right now?"

In the privacy of the small stockroom, you confront him. "You can't intimidate my boss! Or steal from customers!"

Harry leans against a shelf, entirely unrepentant. "That wasn't stealing. It was a transaction. He paid for a lesson in respecting boundaries."

"This isn't your world," you remind him, keeping your voice low. "You can't run a coffee shop like you run your... business."

"Clearly," he agrees dryly. "Your operation is inefficient. Your manager lacks authority. And you've allowed that customer to harass you for weeks."

You sigh, recognizing the futility of explaining normal workplace dynamics to a man who handles disagreements with methods that don't bear thinking about.

"Just... try to finish the shift without traumatizing anyone else? Please? For me?"

His expression softens marginally at your plea, and he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face in a gesture that's surprisingly tender given the conversation.

"For you," he concedes.

The afternoon brings new challenges. When assigned to shelve books in the literary section, Harry reorganizes the entire display by what he deems "actual quality" rather than alphabetically. A teenager who knocks over a stack of books receives such a withering look that he frantically begins reshelving the entire fiction section.

Remarkably, despite, or perhaps because of, Harry's intimidating presence, the café runs with unprecedented efficiency. Customers order quickly, without dithering. Tables are vacated promptly after use. Even the usual gaggle of students who buy one coffee and occupy tables for hours pack up and leave after Harry casually stands near their table, silently watching them for an uncomfortable minute.

By closing time, the café is spotless, the inventory is meticulously organized, and Ellie approaches you both with an expression of conflicted admiration.

"I've never seen the closing duties completed so efficiently," she admits. "And sales were actually up today. Fewer lingerers meant more turnover."

Harry merely nods, as if this outcome was inevitable.

"However," she continues, her professional tone returning, "I think perhaps this isn't the right...fit."

"You're firing him after one day?" you ask, trying not to sound relieved.

"Not firing," Ellie clarifies hastily, glancing nervously at Harry. "Just...suggesting that his talents might be better utilized elsewhere."

Harry removes his apron with precise movements. "Agreed."

As you collect your things to leave, Ellie pulls you aside. "Y/N, your boyfriend is...intense. Is everything okay with you two?"

The concern in her eyes is genuine, and you realize how Harry must appear to normal people, controlling, intimidating, potentially dangerous.

"Everything's fine," you assure her with a smile. "He's just very protective. And not used to...customer service."

Ellie nods, though she doesn't look entirely convinced. "Well, just so you know, you're expressly forbidden from bringing him in again. Even as a customer, I'm not sure..."

You laugh, the sound slightly strained. "Trust me, he won't be volunteering again."

Outside, Harry holds the car door open for you, his expression unreadable in the fading light.

"So," you say as he slides into the driver's seat, "what did you learn from your day as a normal person?"

Harry starts the engine, the luxury car purring to life. "That 'normal' is inefficient. Your manager should have banned that Jake person months ago. Your pricing is too low. And people waste an inordinate amount of time deciding between essentially identical coffee drinks."

You can't help but laugh. "That's your takeaway? Not 'I should be nicer to people' or 'retail is hard work'?"

He glances at you, a rare genuine smile softening his features. "I also learned that watching you work, being kind to people who don't deserve it, remembering orders, making everyone feel welcome, is somewhat impressive."

The admission, small as it is, warms you unexpectedly.

"However," he continues, his hand finding yours across the console, "if that Jake approaches you again, I'll be handling it my way, not Book & Bean's way."

The threat should alarm you, but after months with Harry, you've learned to distinguish between his casual intimidation and genuine intent. This, fortunately, sounds like the former.

"No need," you assure him. "I think your 'customer service' scared him off permanently."

As Harry drives you home, you can't help but reflect on the strange day, how the man beside you, who commands an empire built on fear and power, had momentarily stepped into your world and, predictably, refused to adapt to it. Instead, he'd bent it to his will, just as he does everything else.

The thought should probably concern you more than it does.

"So," you say lightly, "I'm thinking next we should try you at a daycare center."

The look he gives you could freeze fire, but you catch the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

"Push your luck, angel," he warns softly, "and I'll have you working in my world for a day. See how you handle that."

The challenge hangs between you, half-serious, wholly dangerous, and entirely tempting.

But that's a dare for another day.

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A/N: A little short, I know, but I wanted to get something out today. I hope you enjoyed it!

Taglist: @silastylesswift @babegoals @harryssunflower17 @puzio19 @goldensunflowerss-blog @drewrry @tinawritesstuff @dipmeinhoneyh @spinninc @harrystyleshotwife @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

[spidernuggets]

imagine red hood and the reader being friends. They helped patch him up one day and now he won't leave then alone.

Then jason todd meets reader somewhere and they bump into each other quite often.

Now imagine reader gushing to hood about how cute this guy is and how bad they want to kiss him/fuck him/whatever.

I know hood's face would be matching his helmet and he resolved to ask them out the next time they met in his civilian form.

Jason Todd x Reader

Pt. 2

"Are you for fucking real?" You grumbled, half asleep yet a bat in your hands, ready to swing at the predator who knocked all the trinkets of your living roon window sill.

Bright white eyes shone back at you, the giant figure just standing there, though his hand was clutching his side.

"Man, I told you not to come back here," you scoffed, throwing the bat to the ground and getting your first aid.

"I got sliced." The modulated voice replied nonchalantly, heading for your couch.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I see it." I muttered, kneeling in front of him, inspecting the wound. "It's not that bad, Red. Should have you fixed up in a couple of minutes.."

"There we are," you sighed, finishing the bandages, admiring your handiwork. "Do you not know how to do this shit yourself or..." You asked, packing away the supplies.

"I like the way you do it." He muttered, patting the bandages, a dumb smile across his face, behind his helmet.

"You staying the night, or do you have to head out again?"

"Go out."

"Don't get yourself hurt again. Okay?" You said, your expression softening as you stood back in front of Red Hood, cradling his helmet in your hands.

He just grunted, getting up and placing his hand on your head in silent assurance that he'll be fine.

The next afternoon, walking around the city as you stumbled across a quaint, charming book shop cafe that you haven't noticed before.

The atmosphere was comfortable when you entered as you walked around the narrow aisle of bookshelves. When you spotted a book that you've been meaning to read for a while at the top shelf, you reached up to grab it, when another hand beat you to it.

You turned to scowl at the person who took your book when you were obviously there first, when you were met eye to eye with a gorgeous stranger. His face was sharp, with jagged scars decorating his face. His nose was big and slightly crooked. His lips were chapped. His eyes were a beautiful mix of blue and green.

Your brain short-circuited, forgetting that you were going to scold the man for taking the book, but isntead, you stood there, looking like a fool as you stared at the man.

But when you realised how creepy you looked, your fight or flight responded with flight, saying absolutely nothing as you tried to walk away, mentally slapping yourself for the awkward interaction.

"You like Austen?" The gruff voice said. A familiar voice, but you couldn't put your finger on it. You turned back to the stranger.

"Uhm.. I guess.. I'm not much of a book person, but I've wanted to read 'Emma' for a while now," you sheepishly said.

He nodded. "It's good." He said, handing you the book.

You stared at it. "Are you not gonna.."

"I've read it a bunch of times." He said, taking your wrist and putting the book in your hand. "You take it."

"Oh.. thanks.." You muttered.

"Jason." He said, extending out his hand as you shook it back, giving your name in return. Jason held back from an accidental slip of an 'I know.'

"Sorry for taking it off, you," he said. "I was just a little too eager to see the book. Can I get you some coffee while we're still here?"

Your eyes widened. "Oh! You don't have to real-"

He took your wrist, taking you to the coffee shop. Honestly, you were beginning to think this guy was a serial killer from how eager he was. But it was free coffee that you weren't willing to turn down.

"I met this guy today at a book and cafe shop I ran into," you said as you focused on wrapping bandages around Red Hood's bicep. This information made his ears perk up, remembering the little meet-up the two of you had.

"Oh yeah? Gonna replace me?" He said.

You scoffed. "No. But he was pretty hot," you said nonchalantly. "He had scars all over his face. And a great nose..." You muttered as Red Hood tilted his head.

"His nose?"

You looked up at him, a suggestive glimmer in your eyes. Red Hood shifted on your couch, suddenly feeling hot and uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat. "Is the nose the first thing you notice in a guy?"

"Not usually. His was just very distinct. I might go again tomorrow to see if he'd show up again."

And he did. He was already there the second you stepped in. And once he saw you, he was already walking up to you, seemingly determined to get to know you.

"Oh my god, Red!" You squealed that night. "He's actually so fine, you don't understand!"

Usually, Red Hood stops by because, according to him, he 'likes the way you patch him up'. But he just dropped by, unharmed because he felt like it. Also, he knew you'd talk about this Jason guy and wanted to hear what you think of him.

"His thighs- ugh!! I need my head in between them now!"

"My thighs not enough for you, sweetheart?" He muttered.

You rolled your eyes. "If I knew what you looked like, then maybe. Anyway, don't interrupt me. His hands?? I need to suck on his fingers, oh my god."

Red Hood shifted in his seat, his pants feeling tighter than usual.

But you continued. "His lips were pretty chapped. Don't ask me why I was looking at his lips, but man! I actually need him to shove his tongue down my throat. I need him to put me in a chokehold in between his biceps, I need to suck on his pecs. I can go on about the absolute VILE thoughts of what I'd let him do to me-"

Red Hood stood up. "And I don't wanna be here to hear them." He said, almost stuttering. "I'll come back tomorrow night."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, I'd expect it."

When Jason got back to his safe house, running an extremely cold shower while his hand was tight around his cock, he tried getting those filthy images that you described out of his mind.

Jason was a slow pace man, so as much as he was on the verge of tossing his helmet off, giving you the fantasy of stuffing your mouth with his tongue, he wanted to do the least and ask you on a date first.

SORRY ANON I wasn't sure how to conjure up the whole date thing. I might make a part 2 if interested!!