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Comments Anonymous : Anonymous: What's wrong with her or him drawing DC ? Superboy ? Miss Martian ? Kid Flash ? Dick Grayson ? Conner Kent ? Robin ? DCAU ?

Artemis Lian Crock ? M'gann M'orzz ? Teen Titans ? Nightwing ? Impulse ? Batman series ? Name Password. Prev Index Next.

Friends of Paheal List New to Paheal? Anonymous : Anonymous: What's wrong with her or him drawing Anonymous : If you guys think this is gross look at the ones where Anonymous : Great image Serealkiller, that is the best image that He shaved in the shower, then soaked for twenty minutes in the oversized tub.

Changed into a black pair of trousers, a fine cotton long-sleeved shirt of the same color, and a dark brown belt. His feet kept their combat boots.

He thought about Artemis. Before, he had made certain not to make assumptions as to what her nationality was, along with what she was hiding from.

Yet he'd had a feeling, pending further investigation, that she was from an exotic background. Partly it was her appearance, her manner, the way she dressed.

And Green Arrow's trust in her didn't seem poorly based. He picked up his communicator, tucked it into his ear, and spoke, "Contact.

Private channel. When the chirp subsided and he knew that she was on the line, he didn't give her a chance to say anything.

I'll be there in thirty minutes. Now don't bother me. He gritted his teeth and clenched one fist, wishing that he had his bow in hand. Things always felt more controllable when he had a weapon.

She's probably trying to throw me off-balance, gain just a little leverage by forcing me to wait. Forcing me to deal with something I'm not expecting.

Two could play at that game. There was a liquor store on the bottom of the hotel, and on impulse, he went inside.

Something caught his eye: a bottle of thirty-year-old Laphroaig for three hundred U. There were a small selection of CDs by the register, and he picked up a few.

Eva Cassidy, Live at Blues Alley. Chris Botti, When I fall in love. Mark Douthit, Groove. All of them good, the next best thing to being there, and Roy was familiar with them all due to his love of music.

He took everything back to the room and took two crystal glasses and a bucket of ice from the minibar. Set them down on the coffee table with the Laphroaig, along with a bottle of mineral water.

The CDs were inserted into the room's multidisk player, programmed for "Random and Repeat. He paused, listening to Chris Botti doing "Time To Say Goodbye," the melody and melancholy notes seeming to clarify, and somehow frame, his feelings about Artemis: part pleasant anticipation at seeing her again, but mostly deadly concern at her possible role in the team.

If she was an infiltrator, and if she turned out to be an enemy, perhaps even a member of the Shadows, he would have his hands full.

The League of Shadows was impressive, even to Roy. They very much like a Terrorist CIA. They dealt with the collection of intelligence, destabilization of governments, covert ops like paramilitary activities and assassinations, and so on.

What made them uniquely special was that their main lifestyle for the past two thousand years has been destruction of one civilization after another.

So their blades were always sharp. They trained their operatives very, very thoroughly, and as consequence they were the best at what they did.

There was a knock on the door that broke him away from his thoughts. He unlocked the door and Artemis slipped inside without a word. He had to keep himself from staring when he took in her details.

She was wearing a jade green dress, something fine, maybe raw silk. It was cut just above the knee, with three-quarter-length sleeves that hid her shoulders, and a deep V cut in the back.

Her shoes were patent leather stilettos with open toes. There was a handbag to match the shoes, and a silver Omega watch encircling her left wrist.

It was a man's watch, large and heavy, but somehow seemed to accentuate her femininity while showing masculine strength.

Her hair was swept back and away from her face. Overall, she looked controlled and sleek, sophisticated and sexy. None of it, especially the shoes, would be ideal for combat, escape, or evasion if it came to that.

He realized that she must have chosen it for some type of operational imperative. You know. Seeing as how I'm not trustworthy and all.

There are all sorts of weapons in the world, and Roy reminded himself that when this girl was dressed for work she was anything but unarmed.

She lowered her arms back to her sides and looked at him. She smiled in that sly, arrogant way she had…a little bit teasing, but mostly amusement, and inviting for others to join in the joke.

His heart had started to run at a slightly higher pace at just the prospect of getting both hands on her body. She shrugged. And anyway, isn't it customary to have a guest make herself at home?

A way for her to obtain more maneuverability in case of combat. She bent forward, raised her right leg behind her, and reached around to a strap at the back of her ankle.

Roy noted that she didn't need to touch the wall or otherwise support herself to perform this maneuver. Her balance was good.

She repeated the maneuver with the other shoe. In the half-light where they stood by the door he caught a tantalizing glimpse of skin and curves as the front of her dress slipped momentarily away from her body.

The view wasn't accidental, he knew, but it was undeniably a nice one. He kept his own boots on, and lead her into the room.

She glanced over at the coffee table. She nodded back. I like it even better than the forty. That sherry finish Not bad , he thought. She was right.

The thirty-year-old, finished in sherry casks, mingles ocean tang and sherry sweetness like no other whisky. It offers a smell and taste unparalleled even among Laphroaig's other outstanding bottles.

Roy was experienced with whisky and other fine drinks due to a misappropriate amount of offhand education provided by Ollie, but that probably wasn't the same story for Artemis.

He wondered what else she would know, and where she had learned it from. She was obviously adept when it came to combat, clothes, archery. And now whiskey.

What else? Tantric sexual techniques? They sat near the coffee table; Artemis took the couch with her back to the wall, while Roy took the stuffed chair near the couch.

He poured them each a healthy measure in the crystal tumblers. He handed her a glass, raised his own, and said, " Can chen," smiling with his eyes as he did so.

For one second, he thought she looked angry, and then she smiled. Responding in Navajo was a good recover, he would grant her that, but that pause, and the momentary reaction that had followed it, was enough of a tell.

Roy shrugged. Beautiful young woman, Buddhist-levels of concentration, trained in combative arts probably from the day she turned seven?

I don't know what I was thinking. Call me crazy. She stayed silent for a second, considering. That's not like you, seeing as how you're more of a cautious type.

If I tell you everything about me, you'll either assume that I'm lying, or probably find some way to make the others not trust me.

Megan may be respectful of privacy and pure of heart, but even she can read your mind without you knowing it, especially if she has an ounce of protective instinct for the rest of the team.

Trained under the world's greatest detective and all that. We understand the situation we're both in. The more you push me, the more you compromise my ability to be one hundred percent out in the field with the others.

You constantly parading the fact that my friends trust and rely on you doesn't help either of us. Don't make me decide that you're a threat to them.

She put her glass down, then stood and faced him. Most men couldn't. I'm not a flower, you know. But I know you could. You're cold, Red. You do what you want, and you don't care how it will affect others.

She took a step closer to him. He felt an adrenaline surge A second ago he had reacted to her the way he reflexively did when something revealed itself to be dangerous, but now Roy wasn't sure.

It was hard to put it in the right context. His increased heart rate forced my lungs to breathe faster, but he controlled it, not wanting her to see.

I have secrets, and my team relies on me to have their backs. It doesn't matter my intentions, does it? A liabilty is a threat.

You're a man, right? Do what you have to do. Eliminate the threat. He felt more adrenaline push its way through his chest and gut.

You know how it's done. Her skin was warm and very smooth. He could feel her pulse against his fingers. It was beating surprisingly hard, as fast as his own.

He could feel her breath against his arms, hear it moving in and out through her nose. Roy hadn't meant to try and bluff her, but somehow he had.

And now she was calling him on it. She lowered her arms to her sides and tilted her chin slightly upward, the posture maximally submissive, and yet at the same time it was mocking and insolent.

He looked down at the shadowed hollows of her throat and was almost defeated by the thought of how easy it would be to sweep his hands down over her shoulders, catching the material of her dress along the way, bringing the garment down to her waist and belly in one smooth motion, exposing her breasts, her skin, her sex.

It was there if he wanted it. Right there, ready for the taking, only two slight hand movements away. Roy knew that, and he knew this was by design, their moves to be choreographed on her terms, where she offered what he wanted like a kind pet owner offering milk to a kitten, maybe petting its head while it greedily lapped at the leavings.

Roy was suddenly angry. The feline imagery helped. He removed both hands from her neck and took a careful step away from her. His mouth had gone dry.

He picked up the glass and took a long, slow swallow. And another. Sat back down, as calmly as he could.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction, and Roy knew he was right. He'd fought against men like her in fights around the world. They had their money move, one technique that always worked for them, but if he could get past that one move, if he could survive it and keep fighting, they were off their game and couldn't recover.

What are you going to do in a few years from now, after your pheromones have all dried up? I don't see much else to you.

Maybe there was, once. A long time ago. But there's not much left now, is there? Her eyes narrowed more and her ears seemed to flatten against her skull in an almost feral anger response.

It's about fucking time I got the upper hand on her. And I'm not here to kill you. She grimaced in the way that made him wonder if she had just imagined herself beheading him with a rusty spoon, and dipped her head forward as if to say, All right.

Message received. She moved back to the couch and finished what was in her glass. Roy picked up the bottle to pour her another.

She raised the glass as he did so and they noticed, simultaneously, that both of their hands were shaking. When she spoke, she used her hands again.

He's teaching me how to use the only weapon I ever really liked. The bow…it lets me be just as effective from a long way off. She looked at him for another long moment, studying him, weighing the pros and cons, before finally exhaling and relaxing.

Roy's eyes narrowed. It dealt with very fast, very brutal attacks that were delivered with the intention of maximum damage to the receiver.

There were plenty of clips of it on Youtube. In this modern day and age it's taught all over the world, so experience with using the system certainly didn't mean the practitioner was Israeli.

But the League of Shadows had a series of training grounds in the nation of Israel, and Artemis already knew Roy suspected where she'd originally come from.

In this context, her acknowledgement served also as a tacit admission. Most martial arts are taught as religions, teaching things that are based on faith instead of fact, even if they're not sure it's a solid faith.

But I don't want that luxury. I need to use something that I know works. I'm alone in the field for a long time, usually without access to any weapon.

Or at least, a usual weapon. She looked straight at him again. A lot of scenario-based conditioning.

If an image won't load for you, try this. Need to report an advertisement? Here's how. Come join us in chat! Look in the "Community" menu up top for the link.

Follow us on twitter rule34paheal We now have a guide to finding the best version of an image to upload. Signups temporarily disabled. Comments Anonymous : Anonymous: What's wrong with her or him drawing DC ?

Superboy ? Miss Martian ? Kid Flash ? Dick Grayson ? Conner Kent ? They had their money move, one technique that always worked for them, but if he could get past that one move, if he could survive it and keep fighting, they were off their game and couldn't recover.

What are you going to do in a few years from now, after your pheromones have all dried up? I don't see much else to you.

Maybe there was, once. A long time ago. But there's not much left now, is there? Her eyes narrowed more and her ears seemed to flatten against her skull in an almost feral anger response.

It's about fucking time I got the upper hand on her. And I'm not here to kill you. She grimaced in the way that made him wonder if she had just imagined herself beheading him with a rusty spoon, and dipped her head forward as if to say, All right.

Message received. She moved back to the couch and finished what was in her glass. Roy picked up the bottle to pour her another.

She raised the glass as he did so and they noticed, simultaneously, that both of their hands were shaking. When she spoke, she used her hands again.

He's teaching me how to use the only weapon I ever really liked. The bow…it lets me be just as effective from a long way off.

She looked at him for another long moment, studying him, weighing the pros and cons, before finally exhaling and relaxing.

Roy's eyes narrowed. It dealt with very fast, very brutal attacks that were delivered with the intention of maximum damage to the receiver.

There were plenty of clips of it on Youtube. In this modern day and age it's taught all over the world, so experience with using the system certainly didn't mean the practitioner was Israeli.

But the League of Shadows had a series of training grounds in the nation of Israel, and Artemis already knew Roy suspected where she'd originally come from.

In this context, her acknowledgement served also as a tacit admission. Most martial arts are taught as religions, teaching things that are based on faith instead of fact, even if they're not sure it's a solid faith.

But I don't want that luxury. I need to use something that I know works. I'm alone in the field for a long time, usually without access to any weapon.

Or at least, a usual weapon. She looked straight at him again. A lot of scenario-based conditioning. A lot of contact. My nose was broken during training, can you see it?

I had it fixed, but you can still see the scars if you look closely. Roy looked, and saw a hairline mark at the bridge of her nose, the remnants of a bad break made good by a skilled plastic surgeon.

It would be invisible if he didn't know to look for it. Boxing, wrestling some judo thrown in," he said.

Not leaning back. Green Arrow took me on as his partner, and when that happened he taught me the special stuff. But it helps to have spent some time in the feild, a few years or so.

That's when you start to develop a certain attitude towards learning what you can, wherever you are. She glanced down at her hands for a second, as though checking to see whether they were doing something right then, and laughed quietly.

You pissed me off. She looked back at him. He didn't look away. The look was noticeably long, definitely frank. Possibly inviting. Roy got up and sat next to her on the couch.

One of her eyebrows rose a notch and she said, "This is unexpected. He looked at her for another moment, then leaned slowly forward.

She watched him, her eyes focusing on his, then dropping momentarily to his lips, moving back to his eyes again. Roy paused.

Their faces were a few centimeters apart. He could smell her perfume, something he had never smelled before. She smelled nice. She accepted the kiss but didn't exactly embrace it, and after a moment he drew back slightly and looked at her.

She fell silent, and looked at him again. Another long time. She leaned forward and they kissed again. The kiss was better this time.

There was an uncertainty about it, the tentativeness of a cease-fire, the sense of something moving slowly but with a lot of momentum behind it. She opened her mouth wider and their tongues met.

Again, the feeling was tentative: an exploration, not a hasty charge. A testing of the waters, not a heedless plunge.

A minute passed, maybe two, and the kiss grew less cautious, more passionate. Less deliberating, more a thing unto itself. It ebbed and flowed as though it were in obedience to some kind of force that was taking both of their control and dissolving it.

Roy took in all the different aspects of her mouth; her tongue; her lips; her teeth; her tongue again; the delicious feel of the whole, this new threshold to so much of whoever she was.

She took his lower lip between her teeth and her lips and held it there a moment, then released it and gradually eased away. They looked at each other.

The tension between them built, stretching like a bowstring being pulled back until it was thin, taunt, ready to snap.

Their eyes didn't just glance into each other—they locked onto each other. Him seeking her surrender to what they were both feeling; her simply seeking a way out from making this mistake.

She couldn't get attached with him like this, it was so dangerous for the both of them. Artemis had never been kissed so intimately before, though, and she was finding it much more pleasing than any previous embrace.

His body's essence, though, was something more. Something ancient and long forgotten, a strong scent that stirred Artemis in a feral manner that she'd never expected.

And she kept on kissing him. He parted his lips with a growl of satisfaction, and speared his tongue deeply into her mouth. She met it with her own, and they locked in combat, eagerly.

He tasted… masculine. Like pure, raging testosterone shaped in human form. Their teeth met as the kiss intensified, biting, their lips pressing hard and tongues spearing in a duel.

Her dress had a mind of its own; without any conscious effort on her part, the damn thing naturally slid the thin straps over her shoulders and fell, collecting into a silk ripple into the floor.

He found a nipple and squeezed, lightly at first, then harder. Artemis moaned and bowed her back, thrusting her breast more firmly into his hand.

It was positively burning. He plucked and teased her, like it was the string on a guitar. She felt it plump and harden, so tight she thought it would burst.

A wicked thrill ran through her as he suckled her bottom lip as if it were a ripe fruit, lightly bringing his sharp teeth down on her sensitive skin.

Quick as a cat, her legs leaped up and wrapped around his waist tightly, hot against his hardness. It was all she could do not to rub against him until she came.

Her arms came around his shoulders, and she almost moaned to find how muscular and strong his back felt beneath her hands. Her hips moved and ground into his pelvic area, and she could feel his hard cock straining to burst through the fabric of his pants.

One of his hands speared itself into her hair, clutching at the base of her neck, while the other clasped tightly at her bottom. His mouth moved from hers to trail a hot path downward, from her jaw, to her neck, down to the hollow at the base of her throat, where he suckled and laved.

Artemis keened, a high, helpless sound of mindless nirvana. The sharp suction against her neck, coupled with her throbbing nipples and his clutched hand in her hair She'd had a lover before, but this?

The mixture of pain and sex? This was practically combat! Sharp teeth bit down on her neck, and she absolutely lost it. Her hands went to his strong back and she sank her nails into him like some sort of she-devil cat, clenching her legs tightly, humping him like a bitch in heat.

Her tongue roved over his jaw, his ear, his neck. Roy released her hair and placed his fingers between her legs. Her crotch was wet, completely soaked.

He trailed the very tip of his fingernail between her skin, found the folds of her vagina, then parted them. Artemis closed her eyes and moaned, and when he slipped two fingers inside her, so tight and tiny, her whole body shook.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him look around wildly. To the left—a dresser. He shoved her over to it. Busty Madelyn Marie gets her pussy split in two!

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