#but it might help some people let go of it in their minds

[missriddle03]

Title: You cry, I cry

parings: fem!reader x mattheo riddle

Small synopsis: Mattheo can't deal with his father and his anxiety is getting the better of him but his girlfriend is there to help him

Time to read: 10mins (average)

Word count: just under 2k

Warnings: Angst, written panic attack, two swear words

Song recommended: cry by cigarettes after sex

It was a typical school day in the world of hogwarts. The Slytherins were due to share a class with the Gryfindors, whilst the Hufflepuffs were with the Ravenclaws. It wasn’t time for class so Mattheo and his friends were in the astronomy tower.

“You know, it’s actually quite a nice view up here” Theo had said as he was taking a drag from his cigarette. The sky was a pale blue but the clouds were coming in and some little hues of grey became more and more noticeable as the day went on. Mattheo, Lorenzo and Theodore were the only ones there as Draco and Blaise were helping Professor Snape with a potion for class. “Have you brought y/n up here?” Lorenzo asked Mattheo.

No answer.

“Mattheo?” he repeated.

No answer.

Theodore clicked his fingers in front of his face and soon enough his gaze diverted to him. “What?” Mattheo answered. Theo let out a little chuckle not sure whether to be worried or brush it off. “You zoned out, Enzo asked if you brought y/n here before or not” His italian accent was becoming prominent on certain words but his friends understood him and that was all he cared about. “Oh..i-uh-yeah I have. I brought her here at night and she really liked seeing the stars. She loves astronomy so I had to bring her here” a slight smile formed on his face remembering the night that he brought her there. Mattheo and y/n had been friends since the day they both arrived, she didn’t care about who he was or even who he was related to and then one day he asked her to be his girlfriend..of course she said yes. “You are not your parents, don’t compare yourself to them. You can choose who you want to be and sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to in order to find out who we are and that’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time”

Theodore didn’t want to admit to himself that his friend might need help, he noticed Mattheo zoning out more often than normal and he hardly spoke unless y/n was around but it wasn’t the case of missing the girl who took his heart it was the case that he put up a smile for her not wanting her to judge him for not being able to cope. Mattheo didn’t want y/n involved with the dark parts of his mind or the dark part of him that involves his family. “Y/n’s a lucky girl” Enzo stated, looking out past the railing. Suddenly a Gryffindor came onto the astronomy tower, it was a girl who looked similar to y/n but; of course it wasn’t. “You know..Dumbledore should really watch who he invites in this school. He shouldn’t let descendants of a murderer into here. You three are exactly like your parents” the girl said.

Mattheo’s heart was pounding out of his chest but only registered those last seven words. “Leave before I make you wish you hadn’t spoken to us, Stronza” (bitch) his knuckles turned white as he tightened them getting ready to punch the girl. Neither of the boys had a good relationship with their parents, Theo’s mother died when he was young and it pained him to see people with their mothers but his father was his worst enemy. From a young age he had been taught all the unforgivable curses and as soon as he turned 16 he was forced to become a death eater and he knew his life wouldn’t get better. Lorenzo had a complicated relationship with Bellatrix; his mother was also the mother of Mattheo. His father wasn’t in the picture and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. The girl left the astronomy tower feeling frightened by the threat that had left Theo’s mouth. “Don’t let it get to your head,” he instructed Mattheo but it already had gotten to his head. “I’m gonna go I’ll see you guys later” was his final words before getting up from the chair and heading to his dorm and took a cigarette and took a long inhale before falling onto his bed, burying his head into his pillows.

Theodore took a deep breath and sat down. “I’m worried about him, Enzo” he muttered, more to himself than to Enzo’s ears. “I know..I am too”

“The best part was the love confession, this book has my heart” y/n said to her friend Pansy. Y/n was a big bookworm and Pansy loved hearing about her recent endeavours in reading, “I just don’t see it! If it’s a love triangle you want the girl to end up with the bad boy and not the soft guy because she will just walk all over him and the good boy will keep her trapped. You should know all about bad boys” Pansy joked as she let out a giggle. “Shut up” Y/n laughed. “I’m not joking I-”

“Y/n!” someone called out interrupting Pansy. Theodore came running into the library standing next to the girls. “What? Is Mattheo okay?” Immediately getting out of her seat as worry took a hold of her. He shook his head before continuing, “I don’t know, I don’t think he’s doing well mentally” She lightly ran her hand through her head, Mattheo’s mental health wasn’t something that was new to her he had panic attacks that paralysed him until he calmed down and his head was all over the place and only himself could bring him out of it. “Where is he?” she asked Theo. “I’m not sure but I think he’ll be in class” Y/n let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding before Theo placed his hands around her and warmed her into a hug. “He’ll be okay, he will be”

“I’m just worried..I don’t want anything to happen to him”

“I know”

Pansy closed the book they were reading and placed it back on the shelf before taking y/n’s hand. “Come on, let’s go to class then” Theo sent her a smile before the three of them left the library and went to potions. It was exam day and it stressed everyone out, they all took their seats but one seat was empty.

Mattheo’s. Y/n's head was running a mile about where he was, if he was okay and why he wasn’t there but luckily her mind was put at ease a few moments later. “Mr Riddle, please take your seat” Professor Snape said. He walked in and sat down next to y/n, “Hey Love, you okay?” he whispered. “Yes I am, but are you okay?”

Mattheo took out his pen and wrote his name on his test and nodded his head. “You don’t need to lie to me” He turned his head around and pointed his finger up at her “Stop asking if I’m okay because I am so just leave it at that”

Looking down, y/n wrote a note to Theodore and placed it on the floor kicking it to him (he was in front of them)

He isn’t telling me anything

Y/n maybe ask about it again

No, I can’t I don’t want to make him more upset than he already is

Don’t you want to know what’s going on? Cara

Yes

Si so do I, listen Mattheo hasn’t cared about someone as much as he cares about you.He just doesn’t want to show that he has a problem. He sees that as a weakness.

I care about him more than he knows and he knows that no matter what he says I am not the type of person to use it against him. He needs to tell me himself

If he tells you please tell me, he’s my best friend and I hate seeing him like that

Of course I’ll tell you Theo. You’re his best friend too

A smile was brought to Theo’s face but Y/n’s attention was shortly shifted once she saw Mattheo with his chair back a little. His leg was bouncing up and down as his chest was moving at a rapid rate.

Blurriness took over him as he stood up,looked around the classroom, and bolted. Leaving y/n as she took a look at Theo. She put her hand up and asked to be excused to the bathroom and Snape granted her permission.

My heart was racing as I began my search for Mattheo. I knew it wasn’t going to get better but I atleast thought that he was going to tell me..maybe Theo was right I should have asked him more about it. “Mattheo!” I called out but he didn’t respond. I ran through the hallway but I didn’t see him. I decided to go to his dorm thinking that maybe he would be in there. His door was left ajar and a figure was now noticeable. He was sitting in front of his bed with his head in between his legs. I was frightened for him, I walked over to sit down next to him but he didn’t register that it was me. “Matt, please look at me” sobs escaped his lips. “No, go away” his breathing was still all over the place. I took his hand and his tear stained cheeks finally looked at me. “I-I can’t br-reathe”

“Copy my breathing okay..breathe in..”

“Breathe out..Breathe in..Breathe out”

Eventually his breathing had settled but his hands were still shaking. “I’m sorry..I’m really sorry” he cried. I couldn’t bear seeing him like this, “It’s not your fault, don’t feel like you have to hide this side of you” Mattheo wiped his tears. I hadn’t seen this side of him and quite frankly I don’t want to..it hurts too much. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I asked him. His eyes moved away from me but my hand never left his.

“It’s becoming too real, my father wants me to be a ruler like him and I can’t. I can’t lose you either, I’m only going to make you cry, I'm only going to hurt you. All day everyday all I see is him no matter what I’m doing I know I’m gonna be just like him. Everyone else sees it, I mean this Gryffindor came up to me and my friends and said exactly what everyone else says. I can’t live in fear of not knowing what’s going to happen. I’m only going to make everyone turn against you”

Tears began to fill up my eyes, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, and who cares what they say. They don’t know what you are really like..all they see is that one side. The side that they get told but they don’t realise how different you are. How sweet you are, how thoughtful you are. I mean maybe you punched a kid but guess what? So have I. If loving you makes me a villain I don’t fucking care. You mean so much to me that all my friends can leave me and hate me but it will be worth it for you”

“I love you,” he choked out. His brown curly hair stuck to his forehead, he placed his head in the crook of my neck and wrapped his arm around my waist. “I love you too, if you feel another anxiety attack..come to me”

He nodded his head and fell asleep.

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Thank you for reading <3

[thementalshawty]

PAC WHAT TYPE OF LOVE IS ENTERING YOUR LIFE?

Hey my baby babes! Here is the reading I promised you guys!!! This reading been on my mind since I did the last one honestly and I’m guessing some of you are curious but instead of asking spirit of love is coming into your life I’m going to ask what kind of love because love comes in our life everyday in big and small ways so I decided to ask in what way love is entering your lives soon.

🧟🧟‍♂️🧟🧟‍♂️🧟🧟‍♂️🧟🧟‍♀️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♀️🧟‍♂️

Pile 1

Now I know a lot of you are thinking the worse when you see this card but I’m not getting anything negative or low energetic about this love coming in. Actually quite the opposite, I heard liberating. There’s something here that you and this person share in common that’s coming in, honestly the kind of love I’m hearing is through a trauma bond maybe? I’m seeing two people praising one god or goddess. I’m seeing that it may be a friendship here. It can be a same sex love too if that’s what you’re into, I see carnal pleasure being fulfilled here, friends with benefits for sure!!! I’m not getting romantic vibes honestly from this, I’m seeing this love is a love that helps you break the chain that you are currently in, you can be in a cycle that you’re completely unaware of. This person can be a Capricorn, be Capricornic, they are not a satanist or satanic and even if they’re into that they’re not into bringing you into it I’m hearing sacred so what they believe in is very sacred they very RARELY SHARE THAT! This is why again I don’t feel it’s a romantic love it can even be a new belief that’s coming and not a person if you get my drift or some kind of inspiration, love comes in very many a way so we need to look for something deeper sometimes and this isn’t a romantic love, I’m seeing it can be sexual or passionate though here, exploring each others carnal fantasies! so fuccin funny the bottom of the decc is the 8oS! so even more confirmation! You’re gaining freedom from whatever chain you’ve got going on in your head! Youre binded to a thought about yourself some kind of belief and I see it coming undone and since there’s two people I do believe someone else is involved but again idk if it’s romantic im still not seeing it go anywhere more than some wild nights together frfr but i see you’ll be so beyond happy you met this person it’s like a pent up farmer girl who becomes friends with the free spirited city girl roommate showing her how to let loose vibes. That’s very much the energy im getting from this pile, you may be meeting your bestie here guys!!!

Thanks for Reading.

🍎🍏🍎🍎🍏🍎🍏🍎🍏🍎🍏

Pile 2

So the kind of love I see coming into your life isn’t romantically at all, welp, you or this person may see it that way, I’m seeing some kind of delusionary connection that’s coming into your life, it’s almost like it’s too good to be true, this person and it’s not that they’re not good it’s just like, they aren’t really into love or I’m seeing they’re not into you like that but you want them too be or you feel they might be or it can be that they feel this way about you and you don’t about them. There’s some kind of imbalance here between you and this person it can also be a disconnect from your heart and this love that’s coming in will help you reconnect with the badass mf that is you. I’m seeing that one of you could be hurt by love and emotions, hiding your cup and forcing it away, but this love will help you want to offer your cup but I don’t see it happening early on, I see this is a slow to romance connection if there’s any chance or possibility! If not then it’s a crush frfr that’s going to go south and you’ll realize this person HAS NOOOOOOOO feelings for you at all and that shit may destroy you, I’m sorry but it’s reality I feel like this connection is so delusionary that you can get lost in the wishful thinking, maybe they drop hints of affection or your misreading them. At the bottom of the deck you have the 2oP! so I’m seeing that there may be TWO types of love coming in, or a decision has to be made, maybe you wanted to date two people at the same time and it’s just not happening right for you, also I’m hearing your crush could be denying you but then someone else likes you, that you’re not even noticing it’s giving 5oC energy you’re only looking at what spilled and not even paying attention to what’s new and being offered. You will need to decide who you’re going to give your cup too because one of the choices are definite more romantic, balanced and will work out for you more than the other one. The choice is yours. Also I’m seeing some money coming in so you can chill, I feel like you are someone who never stops to take a break or breathe or nothing and this connection or this love that’s coming in whether it be a person promotion or both is some kind of disappointment, it’s going to help bring balance and control back into your life and it feels like you’ve been falling of your rotational strength as of late don’t worry baby you’ll get it bacc I promise. Don’t lose hope I’m hearing. I’m hearing that if it is a person that’s not for you don’t think less of you someone else is coming or is already there and you’re jus not giving them the time of day or you don’t think they want you either! I want more information about this one I will upload a deeper meaning to the reading on my Patreon.

Thanks for reading.

⛓️‍💥⛓️‍💥⛓️‍💥⛓️‍💥⛓️‍💥⛓️‍💥⛓️‍💥⛓️‍💥⛓️‍💥⛓️‍💥⛓️‍💥

Pile 3

Now this kind of love is straight up TOXIC! I see that this is not romantic it all it just involves a woman or someone who identifies themselves with more feminine energies. This person is an energy vampire but I see you taking bacc what was stolen. I see that this can be a friend or family member but I’m seeing that this person is a emotional manipulator that love to play cat and mouse game to end up on top this person can be a water sign frfr cancer vibes mostly, this person is very low vibes and and energy they don’t want to do anything but cause chaos and destruction! You don’t need that in your life, like all the readings I’m seeing that this love coming in is bringing in major clarity it can be someone or something that helps you see the toxic person for what they are and take back your energy it’s giving that song by botdf bewitched. (I don’t stand with Dahvie but Jay Vanity (DAHLI) is my heart). I see that this person is used to being put on a pedestal by someone whether it be you or the ones around them, either way they’re very spoiled and they’re no good for you! I’m seeing that you’re going to finally see the truth for what it is. This person brings drama and dark clouds you’re going to want nothing to do with this person and you’re going to reclaim all of your power! its almost like whatever draining you will be poured back into you. You’re rubber, they’re glue what they do bounces off you and sticks back to them! You will also feel so liberated hmm this may be connected to pile 1 so if you felt pulled there then this may be the answer cos I think this is the part 2 or the more information it’s giving freedom too, but this is from an actual person it can be a negative ex you may be going too or friend someone that you let slide always on their shit I’m seeing that it’s going to end and that you’ll realize this person again it can even be you just being in low vibrational space and you’re finally becoming self conscious and doing something about it whether then just waiting for someone to come help. Self care is needed!! So self love is coming into your life fashoooooo SELF SELF SELF! Go and treat yourself to some grade A fun you deserve it.

Thank you for reading.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

And just like that folks we are done I hope that this reading brought clarity and you guys enjoy it!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

So... twst anime—

I feel I should be much more excited than I actually am. Don't get me wrong- I am excited ( for Leona animated content ) to see how they'll handle some things- but apart from the worries you listed, I just... I know this sounds a little gatekeepy but an anime will mean more ppl will know and talk about the story and I fear that they won't go into the game/other content and thus have a limited opinion on characters/events and misunderstand them. Basically I fear that characters will be even more mischaracterized than they already ( sometimes ) are by the current fandom 😭 ( specially Leona- gunshots )

[Referencing this post!]

I feel like there's for sure been mixed reactions to the recent anime news. The general consensus is excitement, but occasionally I've also seen skepticism or worries that the anime won't be as good as the long period since the initial announcement would have had us believe. That's to be expected; we won't know the quality of the anime until we watch it ourselves.

Mmm, there's that age-old sentiment again 😅 The thought of, "More people will be exposed to Twst because of this; I'm worried they will misunderstand the story/characters." It always seems to make a comeback whenever a new major piece of Twst media is announced... It happened when the official EN localization was announced too. People were jumping to conclusions and worrying that the influx of "EN-only" folks and/or a sub-par localization would lead to newer fans not seeing the story and characters the same way as the JP side did. I'll repeat what I said back then (as I think the same logic applies), along with a few additional points/expansions, as are relevant:

As you've said, mischaracterization happens, even now. This is normal in fandom, and it doesn't necessarily make fandom a "bad" space. Variation in thought is a normal human thing in general and I don't think it should be discouraged. If everyone thought the exact same way, life would be boring and we would have a limited number of ideas circulating.

This thinking sort of presupposes that the Twst fandom is currently without issues (or has few of them) and that it is the growth of the fandom that will cause problems. From experience, I can tell you that fandoms always have their toxic pockets. Fandoms growing larger just exposes more of those pockets because, statistically speaking, with more bodies present, there's a higher chance something will come to light, be it a personal squabble, a cultural difference, actually serious allegations, etc. It's a natural part of a fandom's lifecycle.

How other people interpret the story/characters should have limited or no bearing whatsoever on your own enjoyment. It does not erase your own views on the story/characters either. If you find that your concerns about others are becoming overwhelming, I'd encourage you to take a step back and think about what in this fandom makes you happy.

I feel that the mentality I mentioned earlier stems from an "us versus them" mindset. We're viewing current Twsties as the "in" group and everyone else as the "out" group... when, really, I think it might be healthier to perceive the "out" group as potential Twsties. Like... instead of fearing them as strangers coming in to "taint" the fandom, let's try to think of them as "friends we haven't met yet". After all, these anime-first or anime-only Twsties could end up being your next buddy, someone cool you meet at an event, a Twst content creator you enjoy, etc. Try to reframe your thinking!

Lastly!! We have no idea how the anime will go. They might not make it solely the main story just because it’s a manga adaptation. The team might have weaved in vignettes/event stories or bonus content exclusive to the anime which helps flesh out the characters.

I think that about wraps up my thoughts. I hope that helps alleviate some of your concerns. Hang tight, keep an open mind, and pray that the L*ona content in the anime is good 🤡

[dira333]

Mom Friend - Kenma - pt 2

The room is vibrating with quiet conversations and the anticipation only a good game can bring.

Below, Hinata’s warming up. He knows exactly where you’re sitting and he waves excitedly before moving on in the line-up.

“Hey, you’re here already.” Kuroo smiles when he squeezes through, pulling you into a hug.

Behind him, Kenma comes shuffling in. You move to hug him, like you always do when you’re meeting in a group, though you barely touch this time. It’s a fake-out more than anything else.

“Have you been here long?”

“Hinata needed a ride,” you shrug your shoulders. “I had the car this weekend, so it wasn’t a problem.”

Kuroo whistles a mismatched tune. “Do you think they’re going to win?”

“Oh, for sure,” you smile up at him. “Like how can they not?”

You know you’re not the most knowledgeable when it comes to Volleyball. Most games one of the boys ends up explaining a play to you, but no one ever seemed to mind.

Today, though, you mind.

You know Kenma hasn’t told Hinata about that night, because Hinata’s the worlds worst liar. You’d be able to tell if he knew.

Kuroo, however, is an amazing liar. If he knows, and you suspect he does, he isn’t letting it slip.

His kindness feels forced to you now. Is he pitying you? 

“Did you get that?” He asks half an hour later when the referee waves his hands in a way you haven’t seen before.

The “no” is on the tip of your tongue but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

“You don’t have to explain it,” you say instead, the words a little more biting than they should be. “It’s fine.”

Kuroo startles and behind him, you can see the concern in Kenma’s face. 

You can’t stand it anymore, being this close to him, and get up.

“I need to use the toilet,” you rush out. “Lady problems.”

The line is short. 

But you sit on the cold toilet seat for fifteen minutes, scrolling through Tiktok until your heartbeat settles and you feel ready to go back out again.

You’ll have to apologize to Kuroo in some way if you want to save this friendship.

Though is there a way to save it? Should you, even? 

-

“Did you see my spike?” Hinata asks later, hair damp from the game, towel slung around his neck. “Did you?”

You’re not sure which one he means, but you nod and you fawn over him like you usually do. 

But then he’s gone, gone for a quick shower, and you’re left to wait around.

“You good?” Kuroo asks and you can feel your spine stiffen, from the top all the way down to the bottom.

“Yes,” you tell him, though your eyes stay on the floor. A quick check, Kenma’s shoes are nowhere to be seen. At least he’s not here to witness this. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t want your pity.”

Kuroo quiets. He’s usually someone who moves a lot, squiggles his foot, or taps his thigh, but he’s motionless right now, at least the lower part of him that you can see. Nothing is going to make you lift your eyes up. You don’t want to see his face.

“Did something happen last week?”

You hesitate.

“Nothing happened.”

“Are you sure? Kenma said you watched the movie and went out for dinner after like we usually do. He said you didn’t talk much, that it was quiet, but if it’s something about Kenma-”

“Why does it have to be about Kenma?” You lift your eyes now, want to see his face. He looks concerned. Too soft. 

He reminds you of yourself. How did Kenma call it? Bothering people. 

“Maybe it was something at work. Or it’s because I’m on my period. Or I’m just having a bad day. Maybe some creep tried to hit on me and I’m weirded out by that. Why do you automatically assume that it’s about Kenma?”

Kuroo’s quiet for a moment. “You usually react differently to Kenma being around.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug. “Things change.”

He looks pained but he doesn’t pry anymore. You can’t help but think that he’ll ask Kenma about it later. That Kenma will tell him the truth, eventually, because they’ve been friends longer than anyone you know. 

You force yourself to smile. This might be the last time you see Kuroo in a while.

“I’m just being weird,” you promise him. “A girl has to be weird sometimes.”

“Okay,” he nods and you stay there, silent, until Hinata comes back.

- - -

“Hey.”

You look up from your desk. Kuroo’s standing in the doorway, shirt pushed up to the elbows, his hair defying gravity as usual. It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen him. 

Work has kept you busy. You’ve got other friends too, though Hinata has been pretty good at calling you up.

“Hey,” you hesitate for a second. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I was in the area and remembered you work here. Do you wanna get lunch together?”

You hesitate. 

“Just checking in on you,” Kuroo promises. “Don’t be a stranger?”

You sigh. “Fine.” 

-

“Kenma hasn’t told me anything, by the way,” Kuroo tells you as he separates his chopsticks. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Why would I be worried about that?”

He chuckles. “You’re pretty good at deflecting, has anyone told you that before?”

“And you’re a mother-hen, has anyone told you that before?”

“Yeah,” he stuffs an egg roll into his mouth and nods. 

“How do you deal with that?” You ask, pushing the rice around your bowl for a moment before taking a bite. 

Kuroo shrugs. “I like being this way. If I step on somebody’s toes, I apologize of course, and try to stay clear of that, but in the end… it’s who I want to be, so why change?”

You consider that, but it’s not that easy. 

Nothing really ever is when there are feelings involved.

“We’re having a movie night next weekend,” Kuroo adds gently when your bowl is almost empty. “I’m formally inviting you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I want to. I like having you around. We,” he corrects himself with a grin. “Like having you around.”

“Who’s we?”

“Bokuto, of course, and where’s Bokuto there’s Akaashi. Atsumu invited himself and he’s bringing Osamu, so there’s food involved. I think Hinata managed to rope Sakusa in, but that’s always a little debatable.” He stops. “I just realized they’re all just guys, so I’m counting on you to invite a few girls.”

“Are you using me to find your friends some girlfriends?”

“Why, is it working?”

- - -

It’s no surprise that Kenma’s not showing up to movie night. He’s not a big fan of crowds, you know, and there’s always a crowd when Atsumu is concerned.

It’s a good thing you end up going because you end up setting Emi up with Osamu - completely on accident - and as Hinata figures out he’s allergic to some weird European drink you’re the only one with antihistamine pills in your possession.

-

“Do you always come this prepared?” Sakusa asks, hiding out in the kitchen where it’s calmest. 

“I guess,” you reply, preparing yourself for another sting.

“I like that,” Sakusa hums. “Do you have hand sanitizer?”

“Sure,” you pull it out of your purse. “Scented or unscented?”

“Unscented please.” He offers his palm and thanks you quietly when you squeeze out the liquid. 

“You can call me Kiyoomi,” he adds after a moment of silence. “Just don’t tell Miya.”

You smile. “This is what being knighted must feel like.”

Kiyoomi taps your forehead. “Don’t get too cocky or I’ll revoke your rights.”

-

“Are you coming to the cinema this weekend?” Hinata asks after a game, eyelids already fluttering with exhaustion. “It’s that one movie you said you wanted to watch.”

“Sure,” you tell him, ushering him forward, waving at Kiyoomi whose car’s a little further down in the parking lot. “Who did you invite?”

“Everyone,” Hinata yawns. “Can you drive? Key is in my-”

“Wallet, I know.” You pull it out of the bag he’s carrying. “If you invited everyone, surely you wouldn’t miss me.”

Hinata furrows his brows. “That’s not true.”

It’s sweet, but you wonder about it sometimes still. 

It’s the age-old question, isn’t it? Do you like me because you need me or do you need me because you like me?

You think you’ve grown, in these last few months. 

You like the way you are. Not the smartest and not the dumbest. Over-prepared and over-caring. 

But you’ve also recognized that you’re a friend and not a mother.

That you want a partner, not a child. 

“I’m good,” you tell Hinata when you reach his apartment complex. “But thanks for inviting me. Maybe next time.”

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Mom Friend - Kenma pt one two three

[mingi-s-dimples]

Shy, until tonight - Woogi

KINKOTBER DAY 23 , REQ BY anon 🤧

~"Here is my request heheh (YES ME AGAIN with like the forth request or third) so reader has 2 bsfs both being also friends with benefits aka fucking from time to time☺️ (woo and mingi are the bsfs) tonight we all were at a party reader is always the shy type while mingi and woo dragged her ass here so reader wanting revenge she teased them all night" -> I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH VISUAL SPACE TO ADD EVERYTHING but she essentially wanted me to add breast fondling, double penetration, teasing, opening her legs to them, bathroom sex.

pairing: woogi x fem!reader

genre: 18+, fwb, filth

summary: wooyoung insists that you go to a party with him.. mingi agrees with him and you're left with the only option ti tag along. but you have your fun until they turn tables and have their way with you, for teasing them all night.

wc: 3.5k

warnings: fwb, woogi love teasing, marking, lots of cum, fucking in a bathroom (dw it's not a club bathroom it's a normal one.. the party takes place @ someone's home) , reader is cocky/bratty at first but later gets fucking destroyed, double penetration, breast fondling, pussy eating, completely consensual, unprotected, for sure forgot something, will edit later.

Author's Note: I personally would love to be sandwiched between woo and mingi in this situation... might be just me tho. Love I hope you like itttt 😁🥰 I sure did love writing it!!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.

The music thrummed through the walls, a pulsating rhythm that seeped into your chest, heavy and unrelenting. You hated parties like this. Sweaty bodies crammed into a dimly lit house, voices rising above the pounding bass in an attempt to be heard. The air smelled of alcohol, perfume, and faintly of something herbal that made your head spin. Yet, here you were, sitting on a worn couch in a stranger’s living room, a cup of some questionable drink in your hand, all because Wooyoung had dragged you here.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” he had chirped hours earlier, his mischievous grin practically daring you to refuse.

“Fun for who?” you’d muttered, eyeing him skeptically.

“For all of us,” he had replied, tossing an arm around your shoulders. His dark eyes sparkled with something unspoken, a promise maybe, one you weren’t sure you wanted to unwrap.

You’d looked to Mingi for help, hoping he’d side with you, but he had only shrugged. “You know how he gets,” Mingi had said, his deep voice calm and nonchalant. “It’s easier to just go along with it.”

So here you were.

The couch sagged beneath you as you shifted, trying to find a comfortable position in your tight dress. Wooyoung had insisted you dress up, claiming it was “part of the vibe.” He hadn’t left your side since you arrived, dragging you into conversations with people you didn’t know and laughing at inside jokes you weren’t part of. Mingi, ever the quiet observer, had trailed behind, offering you small smiles that made your stomach flip but didn’t ease your annoyance.

Now, the three of you occupied the couch, Wooyoung and Mingi seated directly across from you, legs spread in that casually confident way that somehow made them both look infuriatingly attractive. You sipped your drink, trying not to let your irritation show as they chatted about something you weren’t listening to.

“You’re too quiet,” Wooyoung said suddenly, his voice cutting through the noise around you. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he fixed you with a knowing look. “What’s on your mind, Y/N?”

You gave him a sweet smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering why I let you drag me here.”

Wooyoung laughed, loud and carefree, as if your irritation amused him. “You love it. Admit it.”

Your smile tightened. Two could play in this game.

“Well,” you said, crossing your legs slowly, deliberately, letting the hem of your dress ride up just enough to be noticeable. You caught the way Wooyoung’s eyes flicked downward, just for a split second, before he met your gaze again. “I suppose I might as well make the most of it.”

Mingi, who had been silent up until now, raised an eyebrow. His lips quirked into a small smile, but his gaze was sharp, assessing.

“Is that so?” he asked, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You leaned back against the couch, letting your body relax in a way that felt foreign but powerful. Your knees fell apart just slightly, enough that the motion could be considered accidental—if you wanted it to be.

Wooyoung’s gaze flicked downward again, and this time, he didn’t bother hiding it.

“You’re being awfully bold tonight,” he remarked, his tone teasing but laced with something heavier.

“Am I?” you asked innocently. You shifted your position again, your foot brushing against Mingi’s leg. His eyes darkened, but he didn’t move, didn’t pull away.

Wooyoung laughed, a short, breathy sound that held none of his usual bravado. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Mingi leaned back, draping an arm over the back of the couch as he watched you. His posture was relaxed, but there was a tension in his jaw, a tightness in his grip that betrayed him.

“Careful,” he warned, his voice low enough that it was almost drowned out by the music. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”

“Oh, I think I’m doing just fine,” you replied, letting your fingers trail along the edge of your cup before they "accidentally" brushed against Wooyoung’s knee. He tensed beneath your touch, his sharp inhale barely audible.

You smirked, feeling a surge of satisfaction. But then your gaze drifted downward, catching the unmistakable bulge straining against the fabric of Wooyoung’s pants. You didn’t need to look at Mingi to know he was in a similar state.

You couldn’t help it. A low chuckle escaped your lips, soft but taunting. “Oh,” you murmured, raising your eyes to meet theirs. “Is something wrong?”

Wooyoung’s eyes darkened, and his usual cocky grin returned, though there was a new edge to it now. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“And you’re not?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Mingi leaned forward then, his large hand resting on your knee. The weight of it sent a shiver up your spine, though you tried not to show it.

“You think you’ve won,” he said, his deep voice steady and calm, like he was explaining something obvious. “But you don’t know what we have planned.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his words. “What are you talking about?”

Wooyoung stood suddenly, holding out a hand to you. His grin was sharper now, almost predatory. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s talk about it somewhere... quieter.”

When you didn’t move, Mingi gave your knee a gentle squeeze. “Bathroom,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your heart raced as you looked between the two of them, their gazes heavy with intent. You realized too late that whatever game you thought you were playing, they’d just turned the tables.

—

“The fuck y’all want!? You dragged me here!” you protested, back slightly arched against the cold tile of the bathroom that was remotely far from all the action, but still close enough to be heard slightly.

“What do you mean? Did you think we'd let you off the hook? What were you trying to do? you're not like this usually..” Wooyoung said and one of his hands rode up your waist to your lower back, pulling you close to him. Mingi was watching contently, catching a glimpse of his eyes shooting to the huge tent that formed in his pants. You were friends with benefits after all… but here!?

“I just wanted to get my revenge! You know I hate parties hosted by stran-.. M-mingi..?” your words faded as you saw Mingi, who was standing behind Wooyoung, was now unbuckling his pants and let them fall to his ankles.

“You know for sure what happens when you're a fucking brat, sweetie… teasing us like that will only get you in more trouble.” Wooyoung kept eye contact with you while Mingi talked, taking his pants off.

“You should've known better…darling.”

You were done for.. you thought.

Mingi got on one knee in front of you and Wooyoung got behind you, holding one of your legs with his right hand, raising your already short dress above your waist. His left hand went to your waist, holding you tight and fondling your breasts from time to time from under the dress.

“Let’s see if it was worth the teasing, our love” Mingi whispered and he took your soaked panties off, giggling. He then leaned in, soft kisses trailing from your knee to your thigh, then from your inner thigh to your cunt. You whined out when he started to eat you out, his tongue reaching every sweet spot of yours.

Wooyoung chuckled darkly from behind, his warm breath tickling your neck as he whispered into your ear, "Such pretty sounds. Don't hold back, sweetheart." His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His hand on your waist tightened slightly, grounding you as Mingi worked his magic below.

Mingi, ever the perfectionist, took his time. His lips and tongue moved with calculated precision, teasing you with alternating strokes of his tongue—soft and slow, then firm and demanding. He hummed low against you, the vibration a sweet torment. Every now and then, he'd pause to place open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin of your thighs, his gaze flickering up to meet yours, filled with mischief and adoration.

Behind you, Wooyoung trailed his fingers lightly along your sides. "Look at you," he murmured, voice dripping with admiration. "You're trembling, love." His hands skimmed up, fingers brushing your shoulders before sliding down your arms. He leaned in, kissing the curve of your neck with lingering softness, his teeth lightly grazing your skin in playful nips.

Mingi pulled back slightly, lips glistening, his grin wicked. "She tastes better than I imagined," he said, his voice husky. His hands stroked the outsides of your thighs, grounding you, while he waited for your breath to even out.

Wooyoung smirked, tilting your head slightly to the side with a gentle hand on your jaw. "Isn't it fun being at the center of our attention?" His lips brushed against your temple as he spoke, his tone low and intimate. He shifted slightly, pulling you closer into his chest, letting you feel his warmth and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Mingi’s lips returned to your inner thighs, brushing featherlight kisses against your skin as he edged closer to your clit. His teasing was unbearable in the best way—soft flicks of his tongue followed by gentle bites to your thighs, leaving you whimpering and squirming in Wooyoung’s arms.

“Oh, you’re so sensitive, aren’t you?” Wooyoung teased, his voice a mix of amusement and adoration. His fingers trailed up your sides, sending shivers through your body, before settling on your shoulders. He massaged them gently, grounding you as you tilted your head back against him with a high-pitched whine. “Mingi’s barely started, and you’re already losing it.”

Mingi hummed in agreement, his hands pressing firmly into your thighs to keep you steady. “She’s always like this when she’s been teasing,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. His tongue darted out again, gliding in slow, deliberate strokes, the sensation enough to pull a loud, unrestrained moan from your lips.

Your fingers clawed at Wooyoung’s arms, desperate for something to hold onto as Mingi’s pace quickened. “M-Mingi,” you cried out, your voice trembling. He chuckled, the sound low and rich, the vibrations making you arch your back.

“Right there, huh?” Mingi teased, his lips curling into a smirk as his tongue circled a particularly sensitive spot. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he focused his attention on driving you over the edge.

Wooyoung tilted your chin, bringing your face closer to his as he whispered into your ear, “So loud and beautiful for us, love. Don’t hold back. Let us hear everything.” His lips found your neck, planting soft kisses along your pulse as he watched your every reaction with pride.

The overwhelming combination of Mingi’s skillful tongue and Wooyoung’s grounding presence made it impossible to contain your sounds. Each whimper and moan spilled freely from your lips, growing louder as the pressure in your core built higher and higher.

Mingi’s voice was steady but commanding as he said, “That’s it, just let go for me.” He gave one last, perfectly calculated flick of his tongue, and the tension within you snapped. You cried out, your hands clutching Wooyoung tighter as waves of pleasure washed over you, your entire body trembling, cumming all over Mingi's beautiful face.

Mingi didn’t pull away immediately; he placed gentle, soothing kisses along your thighs, helping you come down from your high. “Beautiful,” he murmured, his tone soft and full of admiration.

Behind you, Wooyoung wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close and steadying your shaky legs. “Such a good girl,” he praised, his voice warm.

Wooyoung chuckled softly as he held you steady, his fingers brushing against your skin with infuriating gentleness. "Still shaking, huh?" he teased, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. His voice was playful yet low, sending a wave of heat through you. "Are you always this sensitive, or is it just because it's us, right here, in this moment?"

His hand slid down to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before raising your other leg effortlessly. “Let’s see how much more you can handle, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone dripping with mischief. With both legs now secured in his strong hold, your body was completely enveloped in Wooyoung’s embrace, his warmth grounding and overwhelming all at once.

“Easy now,” Mingi said, his deep voice filled with affection as he stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. He reached out, his hands brushing over your sides and thighs in a soothing gesture before gripping your hips firmly. “You’re in good hands, love. Just trust us.”

Wooyoung adjusted his hold, his hands gripping your waist to keep you steady as Mingi moved in front of you. Slowly, with practiced ease, Mingi guided you down onto his dripping cock. Your hands flew to his back, clutching at his broad shoulders for support as a loud, trembling whine escaped your lips.

Mingi groaned softly, his hands tightening on your hips as he helped guide your movements. "That's it," he murmured, his voice husky and full of praise. “So perfect, just like this.” His forehead rested against yours briefly, his warm breath mingling with yours as he steadied you.

From behind, Wooyoung pressed his chest against your back, his lips brushing over your neck and shoulder. “You’re doing so well,” he whispered, his tone laced with pride and teasing. His grip on your thighs remained firm as he adjusted his hold, moving in perfect synchrony with Mingi.

The sensations were overwhelming—Mingi’s strength beneath you, Wooyoung’s embrace around you, and their combined warmth and presence surrounding you completely. Your head tilted back against Wooyoung’s shoulder as another whine left your lips, your nails digging into Mingi’s back as you sought some semblance of control. Their thrusts sent you over the edge all over again, the feeling of being filled up by them making you go insane.

“Louder, love,” Wooyoung coaxed, his voice a seductive murmur in your ear. “Let it all out. We want to hear everything.” His arms tightened around you, holding you securely as Mingi’s thrusts grew more deliberate, his hands never leaving your waist.

Mingi's grin was nothing short of devilish as he steadied you against him, his hands firm on your waist. His eyes glinted with a mixture of affection and mischief, his tone laced with amusement as he whispered, “You thought you could tease us and get away with it, huh? Look at you now.”

Wooyoung chuckled from behind, his lips brushing against your temple as his arms tightened around you. “Our bold little love thought she could handle the game,” he murmured, his tone dripping with playful mockery. “But now you’re here, trembling and whining. Isn’t that right?”

Your breath hitched, and your cheeks flushed even deeper as Mingi leaned closer, his lips ghosting over yours but not quite meeting them. “You look so pretty like this,” he teased, his voice a soft rumble. His fingers dug slightly into your hips, his touch grounding, his thrusts powerful. “Was this the revenge you had planned? Because it doesn’t look like it’s going so well for you.”

A frustrated whine left your lips, and your hands gripped tighter onto Mingi’s back, desperate for some control. But Mingi only smirked, his thumb brushing over your heated skin as he continued to hold you in place, unbothered by your attempts to regain power.

“Aw, don’t pout,” Wooyoung cooed behind you, his teasing relentless. “You look adorable when you’re losing.” He leaned closer, his lips grazing the curve of your neck before pressing a soft kiss there. “And right now, you’re losing so beautifully.”

Mingi chuckled low, his hands slowly trailing up your sides in a way that made you shiver. “Admit it,” he murmured, his voice velvet-soft yet commanding. “You wanted to get under our skin, but now you’re the one falling apart.” His lips brushed over your cheek, his breath warm against your skin. “It’s okay to admit defeat, love. We don’t mind watching you like this.”

Your legs shook as you tried to keep up with their teasing, your mind swimming from the overwhelming attention. “I just…” you started to protest, but the words dissolved into a whimper when Mingi tilted his head, his lips grazing over your ear.

“Just what?” he asked, his tone daring you to finish your sentence. “Come on, love. Say it.”

Wooyoung’s laughter was soft and melodic, his hands sliding to grip your thighs with firm, reassuring pressure. “She can’t even form a full sentence,” he teased. “Mingi, I think we’ve broken her.” Wooyoung's thrusts were smoother, while Mingi's were more powerful and harsh. But either way, their cocks were always filling you up good.

Mingi tilted his head back slightly, his grin wide and wicked as he looked at you. “Good,” he said simply, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “That’s what she gets for teasing all night.”

You couldn’t help but let out another whine, caught between wanting to respond and being utterly overwhelmed by their relentless thrusts. Mingi’s smirk softened slightly as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, a silent reminder that even in their teasing, their care for you never wavered.

“You’re ours,” he murmured, his voice firm but filled with warmth. “And we’ll remind you of that as many times as it takes.”

Wooyoung chuckled, his lips brushing your ear. “Every single time, love.”

Mingi’s grin widened when he felt you tighten your grip on his shoulders, a spark of defiance flaring in your eyes despite the moans spilling from your lips. “Still trying to act tough?” he teased, his tone playful yet taunting. “Even now, when you’re melting in our hands?”

You bit your lip, trying to stifle another whimper, but the heat pooling in your core betrayed you. “I’m not... giving in that easily,” you managed to gasp out, though the breathless quality of your voice made your words less convincing.

Wooyoung laughed softly from behind you, his voice rich with amusement. “Oh, love, you’re adorable when you’re feisty,” he murmured, his hands gripping your thighs to steady you. “But you’re not fooling anyone. We know exactly how much you’re loving this.” His lips pressed to the curve of your shoulder, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin.

Mingi chuckled, his hands sliding up to your waist as he leaned in closer. “We’ll see how long that fire lasts,” he murmured, his teeth grazing your collarbone before biting down gently, leaving a mark. You gasped, your head tilting back as your nails dug into his back, leaving faint crescents in his skin.

Wooyoung took that as his cue, his lips and teeth mapping a path along your back and shoulders. “Look at her, Mingi,” he said, his tone low and teasing. “She’s trembling again. I don’t think she can handle much more.”

You moaned in response, the sound breaking into a sharp gasp when Mingi’s lips trailed lower, his teeth and tongue working against the sensitive skin of your chest. “M-Mingi, Wooyoung,” you whined, your voice catching as your legs instinctively tightened around Mingi’s waist, pulling him closer, locking him in.

“Just like that,” Mingi murmured, his breath hot against your skin as his pace began to quicken. “Hold onto me, love. I’ve got you.” His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements with precision, each thrust sending a fresh wave of heat through your body.

Behind you, Wooyoung’s lips never stopped moving, his teeth grazing your shoulder before soothing the marks with his tongue. “So beautiful,” he whispered against your skin, his voice rough with praise. “Every single part of you.”

As their movements synced, the intensity between the three of you reached a fever pitch. Mingi’s rhythm became more demanding, his hands never leaving your waist as he anchored you to him. Wooyoung’s hold on your thighs tightened, his lips pressing firmly against your skin as he continued marking you, each kiss and bite a silent claim.

You cried out, your moans growing louder as the overwhelming sensations pushed you closer to the edge. Mingi’s voice was steady and commanding as he urged, “Cum, sweetheart.. I know that's what you want to do right now.”

The heat between you all built to a crescendo, your cries mixing with their groans as the tension finally snapped. Mingi and Wooyoung came in perfect synchrony, their breaths ragged and heavy as they held you tightly between them. As you felt their huge loads filling you all up, the force of your own orgasm left you trembling in their arms, your nails digging into Mingi’s back as you whined out one last time.

For a moment, the three of you stayed entwined, your breaths mingling as you came down from the high together. Wooyoung’s arms wrapped around you securely, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of warmth.

Mingi tilted your chin up, his eyes filled with affection as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “And you’re ours,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “Always.”

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1

[apollowhoo]

HELLO, can I request some Jason The Toymaker headcanons? The reader looks like a doll, one of those old ones. Please, established relationship :3

I'm sorry if I didn't explain myself well, I'm terrible at English.

ACTUALLY GOING BALLISTIC OVER MY FIRST CREEPYPASTA REQUEST!!

JASON THE TOY MAKER X DOLL LIKE!READER

Jason was utterly captivated the moment he saw you. Your porcelain-like skin, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle unnaturally in the light, and your perfectly delicate features reminded him of the fine craftsmanship he adores in his work. From the very start, he considered you a masterpiece—a living, breathing work of art.

To him, you’re as fragile as glass and just as irreplaceable. He has no problem glaring at anyone who so much as looks at you for too long. In Jason’s mind, the world is full of people who don’t deserve to admire something as perfect as you.

Jason can’t help but treat you like a literal doll at times. He’s constantly asking if you’ve been taking care of yourself. “Have you moisturized? You mustn’t let your beautiful skin dry out!” He’s also overly concerned about any blemishes or scratches you might get, to the point where he might lash out at whatever (or whoever) caused them.

Jason has a special chair in his workshop that he calls your “throne.” It’s covered with velvet and decorated with intricate carvings he spent hours perfecting. He insists you sit there and watch him work, claiming that your presence inspires his creativity.

Despite his sweet moments, Jason’s darker tendencies occasionally emerge. He adores you, but his definition of “love” often leans toward... ownership. “You’re mine, my perfect little doll. No one else will ever lay a hand on you.” It’s both a declaration and a promise, one he would uphold with blood if necessary.

Jason loves dressing you to match his aesthetic—dark reds, golds, and intricate designs that give you the appearance of a vintage doll brought to life. He takes immense pride in how the two of you complement each other, calling it “a display of true craftsmanship.”

To Jason, you’re more than a lover��you’re his muse. His workshop overflows with creations inspired by you: doll replicas, paintings, carvings, and even jewelry. “Every artist needs their inspiration,” he says with a smirk, “and you, my dear, are mine.”

[delopsia]

honey | bob floyd x reader

Word Count: 13,800 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, Succubus!Reader, Virgin!Bob. Shapeshifting, elements of magic, blood, parties, first-time blow jobs, cunnilingus, first-time sex, virginity loss, vague plot twists despite the severe lack of an actual plot. This was a crack warmup that just became...this Brief Summary: "Rich, hot, and a virgin. What's wrong with you?" Or, Bob's coworkers jokingly summon you, a succubus, to take his virginity, but everyone gets a lot more than they bargained for. You included.

Well...

This is new.

"It wasn't me! I promise!" 

"Well, someone drew my symbol on the floor." Folding your arms in front of your chest, huffing. All that for this?

"It wasn't—" He freezes, teeth flashing through an awkwardly stretched smile. "I...my coworkers were playing a prank on me."

Lovely that you learn that after you've planted your ass in his lap. "So you don't want me here, pretty boy?"

Because he is cute. Floppy brown hair and the biggest blue eyes you've ever seen, hidden behind a pair of wireframes that perch on his freckled nose. His partner must be an incredibly happy person, having someone like this walking around their house. 

"N-no!" He blurts. His face falls. "—wait! Well-well, I...uh, I...I don't wanna be rude, but I mean I-I..." Your index finger presses against his thin lips, silencing whatever he had left to say. If history is anything to go off of, you wouldn't have been able to understand what he's trying to tell you anyway.

But...well, you are stuck here, so you'd might as well ask. "What's your name?" 

"Ro-Ro..." A short pink tongue darts out, wetting his lips. "Robert." 

"Well, Bobby," you can't help but say it, a little too eager to watch the blush in his cheeks deepen. "It's a shame that you didn't. You're pretty cute."

Even in the dark, you can see how his face reddens, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows his words. 

"But! I'll be on my way," lifting yourself from his lap before you can become too comfortable there. Something bumps into your ass; you think that may have been his cheek. "Do me a favor and tell your partner that they're a very lucky person, would ya?"

"Partner?" Squeaking.

Your feet freeze. There's no way he's... "Don't tell me you're single."

But Bob nods his head like it's the simplest confession he's ever made. "That's half of the reason why they went through the trouble of making you come here." He pauses, his left eye twitching as a thought visibly crosses his mind. Whatever it is, it's got him looking away from you entirely. "Said I'm...said I'm too old to be a—" 

"Wait, wait, wait." Holding your hands up. Need a moment of silence to understand what the hell you're hearing. "Your coworkers summoned a succubus to take your virginity?"

His lips flatten into a line. "...yeah."

"Well, that's shitty!" That's a new one. Finally, something to top the time a sorority summoned you to party with them for...some reason. Bragging rights, you think. "Do they pay you enough to put up with those assholes?"

It's been a minute since you've run into someone so nonchalant about a demonic creature standing in the room with them, never mind hold a casual conversation with you. 

But here Bob is, shrugging his shoulders like this happens to him every Tuesday. "You learn to deal with it when you're paid a hundred sixty-thousand a year."

"So you're a rich virgin." It shoots out of your mouth before you realize the thought crossed your mind.

Again, Bob is too calm about this. "I...guess?"

"Rich, hot, and a virgin." Modifying your statement. "What's wrong with you?"

Those blue eyes widen. Blinking rapidly. "Huh?"

"Well, there's gotta be a reason why you don't have a line of people out the door." You say, crouching back down in front of him. Sure wish he'd let you do something about that tent in his pajama pants. "If it's not the looks that reel the ladies in, it's the charm, and if it's not the charm, it's the money. And you've got all three, pretty boy."

It's not supposed to be a serious topic, not as if you're about to go and write an article about his non-existent sex life to publish in the weekly paper. But this guy is actually thinking about it. His brows furrowing as he mulls over his thoughts, mouth parting, only to fall closed once more. 

"I think it has something to do with the nature of my job and my severe inability to start a conversation," he concludes, with a little nod of his head. 

You wonder if you could put him in your pocket and take him home.

Now that you think about it, you're pretty sure you're standing on some a ship right now. Is he some kind of cruise captain? "That'll do it." 

Bob doesn't have anything else to say about that, awkwardly closing his legs before you can get another look at what he might be packing under there. Whether or not he caught you staring or he's just become aware of his current state, you're not sure. It's such a shame that someone else summoned you on his behalf; he would have been a fun one to toy with.

Hm.

"Do you wanna fuck with your coworkers before I leave?"

He blinks at you. Not a thought behind those eyes. "Huh?"

"Well, you've already got me here," an excited lilt in your voice, maybe a bit too eager to present your totally thought-out idea. "Believe it or not, I double as a poltergeist on Tuesdays and Thursdays." 

Or whenever you feel like, really. 

"That would be mean," shaking his head. What is he, some kind of saint? 

"They just summoned a demon to fuck you in a locked room," deadpan. 

For a moment, it's quiet, and then.

"...that's a fair point."

As it turns out, Bob lives on the world's shittiest cruise ship. A ship without a pool, a dimly lit cafeteria without a single Michelin-trained chef in sight. Long, narrow, colorless hallways. There aren't even individual rooms, just even smaller hallways stacked high with bunk beds. On the thinnest mattress you've ever seen, might you add. 

Worst of all, rather than allowing personal clothes, everyone is dressed in clothing provided by the ship. Whoever picked the color schemes needs to be introduced to a fucking color wheel. 

How do you trick the head of the United States Navy into summoning you? You have a few choice words about this place. 

You appear in the mirror first. A little flash of your face, and then you're gone, nothing but a figment of the imagination. Again, later in the night, those two coworkers of Bobs have convinced themselves that they had made it up. 

The plan was to end it there and to come back in the morning to turn it up a notch, but there's a chair sitting in the bunk room that's just so comfortable. So what if you lounge there all night, poking through a book Bob had on the foot of his bed? The room just dark enough to allow them to see your vague silhouette, air so quiet that every turn of the page seems to echo.

Not one of them sleeps, but Bob does, snoring away in his bottom bunk. He sounds like a little cat, tiny little noises that sound closer to grumbles than snores.

When morning comes, you show up in their showers right as they turn around. You appear on opposite ends of crowded rooms and in high-stakes meetings with fancy-dressed higher-ups just to get a reaction. Tapping on their shoulders when they think they're alone. Somehow, you managed to get away with swapping the labels on the mustard and hot mustard. Effectively ruined several breakfasts in one fell swoop.

One, this loud-mouthed blonde you forgot the name of, wakes up to you sitting on his chest. Who would have thought that he had such a shrill scream?

But you might take it too far when you chase them down the narrow hallway—five grown adults shrieking like they're in a haunted scream park and not a Navy ship. 

Or at least, you thought you did. 

"I can't-I can't believe you just—!" Bob's laughing into his palms, keeling over with it. His mouth is moving, but he can't get anything out. Bubbly, loud giggles that travel around the tiny little fan room, bouncing off every corner. 

"And here you said it would be too mean," gently mocking, unable to fight off the smile that works its way across your face. So big you can hardly speak through it. 

That should technically be the last of your encounters. 

You should be heading back through your portal and off on another job, but Bob doesn't utter the proper incantations to make that happen. He starts to, but then you ask about his book, and he squeaks at you for spoiling the ending, and then you begin to second guess if you're recalling it correctly.

Then the conversation starts, and suddenly, you've been bound to him for three weeks. 

If it were anyone else, you'd complain and force the portal to open by yourself. There's more than one way to break the spell and go back to where you came from, but there's something about Bob Floyd that keeps you lingering. Maybe it's the way he blushes when you get too close. Maybe it's because you can't remember a time when someone kept you around solely because they liked talking to you.

Maybe it's because he has a fantastic taste in literature. Anything he's reading somehow becomes glued to your hands, unable to be put down until you've reached the final page.

"I can't believe nobody has gotten bold enough to comment on the strange figure reading a book in the corner every night," you giggle, nothing but a misty haze hovering over his head. 

His lips curl into a smile, toothpaste spilling over as he fights not to bite his toothbrush. "I think they're afraid of another hallway incident."

"Are you afraid of another hallway incident?" Appearing in the mirror, if only to get your message across.

"Nah." 

If you had known that the Admiral would be the final person you would get to scare before Bob left the ship, then you probably would have gone all out on it. But at the moment, all you're thinking about is how unfair and rude it was to pin Bob for the mistakes that his pilot made up in the air. The guy can't even fly a jet. How is it his fault that the pilot confused their lefts and rights?

So you show up in the mirror, jump on him, and spiral about the room in a foggy haze before rustling down the hallway in such a storm that it creates a draft. There seems to be a growing trend with men having high-pitched screams on this boat.

If Bob ever catches wind of the incident, he never brings it up.

Hell, maybe he thinks he's left you behind because he sure is surprised to turn around and find you sitting on his kitchen counter one morning.

"Did ya forget about me?"

"Please." Clenching at his heart. "Knock first."

Wordless, you tap your knuckles against the cool marble. 

Knock. 

Knock. 

Knock.

Those pretty blue eyes roll, their color a little more vivid now that he's wearing that deep blue button-down, the sleeves pulled back just enough to reveal the thick muscle of his forearms. They're still swollen from his workout; you wonder if he knows you were watching.

"Got a hot date tonight?" Kicking your foot at him, brushing against his slacks. The last thing you're expecting is for his hand to wrap around your ankle, lightly squeezing, as if to test out the feeling. 

"I got invited to a party and can't get out of it," he hums, letting your leg slip free of his grasp. Then, after a moment. "Wanna come?"

"You're inviting a demon to a party?" Slipping off the counter, batting your eyes at him. 

All it takes is one step forward for him to stumble back, wide-eyed and stuttering. "Is that... am I not supposed to do that? I'm sorry." 

"Hey, I never said no," your hands find their way to his chest, gently pushing—his back thumps against the fridge. "What color do you like?" 

"R-red?" That cute mouth of his wobbles, the slightest hint of facial hair coloring his upper lip. It'll be gone by five, but it's nice to see it for once. 

Red it is.

---

You think this party was thrown by the same sorority who invited you up to party with them because this is...not what you were anticipating. Shot glasses, shitty beer, and flashing lights, the thump of the music so heavy that your bones really with it. You don't even know where the speakers are, lost to the swarm of people crammed into this tiny bar.

All of a sudden, your long, sultry dress has shed into a short little number that blends in with the rest of the crowd. You can't see him, but you can feel Bob's eyes jump onto your frame. 

"How did you do that?" Tilting his head to the side like that will somehow help him find an answer to his question. 

"Magic, I suppose," there's an actual explanation for it, but you've long since forgotten it. Something about manifestation and energy and a word too big for your tongue to pronounce. "I actually have zero idea how it works."

There's so much going on that you find yourself vanishing for a few minutes. Nothing but a misty haze lingering over Bob's head as one of his buddies shoves a drink into his hand and pushes him down into a cushioned chair. You haven't the slightest clue what kind of golden liquid is swishing around in that cup, but it's got a flavor that has Bob's nose wrinkling.

"Someone's not a drinker," observing aloud, a sudden presence in his lap, your knees caging his hips.  

"Was it that obvious?" Sheepish, with that little sideways smile of his. Whether that's from admitting to his inability to drink alcohol or from where you've chosen to sit, you're not sure. 

"Your little nose wrinkle gives you away," your little tap on his nose makes him blink. "You're almost a little too clean-cut for this place." 

There's nothing special or different that he's done about his appearance, but the aesthetics of the crowd make it look like he's walked into the wrong party. A little bit too put together when you compare his ironed button-down and perfectly gelled hair to the half-drunk faces, trendy, cheap outfits, and that group of shirtless men over in the corner.

At least you have the luxury of changing clothing at the drop of a hat. Otherwise, you would be in the same boat.

"He said it was only gonna be a dozen of us," Bob lifts the glass to his lips once more, his nose twitching at the bitter flavor that greets his tongue. He's trying to hide his reaction, but you can still see the disgust in his eye.

"More like twelve dozen," plucking the glass from his hand, setting it on the little table next to the chair. "You could've convinced me this was a high-end frat party."

Looking around is enough to make you question if 'high-end' was just you being generous because this is looking more like an average party by the second. A myriad of nameless faces lost to the flash of the lights: red, blue, green, purple, yellow, a cycle that never loses its pattern. But even the strain it puts on your eyes isn't enough to distract from the sloppy grinding of bodies against each other, hands in the air, writhing to a beat that definitely does not match the music. 

Something is starting to press against your inner thigh. An insistent pressure that almost feels—

Damn, how long have Bob's cheeks been bright red like that?

"Are you good?" Pressing the back of your hand against his forehead, clammy to the touch. "You're red as a balloon."

"Yep," his voice strained, so tight it may snap at the slightest hint of pressure. And he's looking over at the painting on the wall, one of those uninteresting things with only a few paint splatters to stain the pure white canvas. Not the kind of thing worth staring at so intently.

You shift forward, thumb swiping at the sweat beading at his temple—

"You sure get hard easily." Teasing. You hadn't even been trying, but that's definitely a heavy bulge pressing into you, straining against the thin fabric of his slacks. 

A muscle in his jaw flexes, swallowing hard. "Please don't say it out loud."

"I can fix that, you know." Perhaps curling your hand around his jaw is a little bit too bold, but he isn't making any moves to push you away or tell you to stop. "Some say I'm pretty good at that."

"No, no, that's okay," Bob shakes his head, gently dislodging your hand from his face. "I don't wanna make you do that."

"You're not making me do anything," leaning the slightest bit closer, tapping him on the chest with an index finger. "I'm volunteering. There's a difference."

He swallows again.

Someone calls out his name, waving a hand in the air as if to guide attention to himself as he emerges from the crowd, drink in hand, smile so big that it ought to blind someone. You vaguely recall seeing him back on the ship; name starts with an 'f'.

...shame that you don't remember anything more than that.

But Bob is uttering some Navy jargon that you don't have the capacity to keep up with, and your knees are starting to hurt, skin stuck to the cheap leather cushion. It's much easier to turn yourself around, back leaning against his chest, now free to scan over and watch the part of the room you couldn't see before. 

It's not that you don't feel him pressing into the curve of your ass; you just...well, you kind of forget about it. The moment you lay eyes on the game of beer pong happening behind the pool table, you're invested. Straining your neck to try and get a better look at who is winning, crossing two fingers as a lady in a little white skirt goes up against a guy who looks two beers away from a total blackout. 

Neither of them are good at it. Far from it, actually, but the girl's friends are cheering her on, and the man has missed the cup thrice now, stumbling over his own two feet. He misses. She scores two. He gets another point while she's trying to catch a ball that has rolled off into her crowd of friends.

You don't realize you've been squirming until Bob's forehead thunks against your back, shoulders rising with his inhale. 

"Where did your buddy go?" Chirping in the lightest tone you can muster. As if you're blissfully unaware of what's going on.

"Maybe we should get up," entirely evading your question.

It's a worthy idea that goes down the drain within the same minute it's suggested. What you couldn't see from the couch was how big the crowd actually is. It's a swarm that swallows you whole, someone's shoving into your back, and Bob's stumbling into you, and it's all you can do not to explode into a plume of mist. 

You're only distantly aware of his arm curling around you, cinching you to him as if to anchor you in before the storm can wash you away. Your leg slotting between his is far from intentional. But it happens, and you're nose to nose with him, and the corner of his eye is twitching, and you swear you can hear a dam breaking.

You don't entirely know how you wind up here. Squeezing into this sorry excuse of a bathroom stall, your hands greedily dipping beneath his shirt, chest to chest. Every little meet of your lips has him gasping against you. His tongue tastes like the honey biscuit he was nibbling on earlier, the one that dripped on his shirt and left little white crumbs all over his lap.

You could eat him.

"We shouldn't..." He's whispering. A secret meant for your ears only.

Everything screeches to a halt. "Do you wanna stop?"

Shaking his head. "No." 

He makes it so damn easy. Legs parted just enough to allow your thigh to slot between them, immediately squeezes down around it the moment he recognizes it's there, drawing you right up into—

A shiver wracks through him. So intense that you can feel it.

You don't need to worry about taunting him. He's reacting as if you've already made a remark. Nose scrunching as he tries to steel his face, warding off the softness that once lingered there, taken aback by the sudden pressure between his legs. Such a strong front. Shame that it folds the moment your hand curls against the bulge in his slacks.

"You're bad at this," a teasing lilt in your tone, lazily working your hand against him. No real rhythm or method to it, simply a shifting pressure that you can already feel his hips beginning to follow. 

"It's been a while," muttered like a confession—a sin of the past.

Now that has your attention. "You've done this before?" 

The bathroom door squeals open, the handle cracking against the tile so hard that some of it tears off the wall entirely, shards of ceramic scattering across the floor. A chunk of it rolls under the stall on a one-way track to strike the side of your shoe. You don't recognize the too-loud voices that enter the room, but Bob seems to, eyes rolling for a fraction of a moment. 

"Something similar...once," hardly audible over whatever the hell is being discussed by the sinks. 

You'll have to get the full story out of him when there aren't extra ears lurking mere feet away. Right now, though, you're tugging at his zipper, yanking it down as far as it will go, your hand darting through the gap. 

Good lord.

It's always the quiet ones.

"I'm surprised you can get through security with this thing," there's so much of him that you've got to use your other hand, fumbling to pop open his button. 

"With what?" Bob's brow furrows. You lightly squeeze the base of him. "...oh." 

One of the men shouts. Two laughs chime after it in hot pursuit.

There's a considerable weight to him that you hadn't anticipated until just now, his pretty, flushed cock throbbing in your hand. Muscle memory kicks into gear without much thought, gradually gliding up from his base to his tip—ruby red, almost angry in appearance, such a sharp contrast to your fingers.

His hips follow your motions, subtle little backs and forths that you nearly miss at first, keen on chasing your touch but too shy to allow himself to do it. Teeth sink into his bottom lip, pressing so hard that they leave an indent behind. Breathing hard through his nose, eyes screwing shut like he's fighting something back. 

You know what he's doing. Can't let a single noise escape for fear of it reaching the other ears in the room, but there's no way they can. Not with all that racket they're making. 

It's fifty-fifty if you still remember how to interrupt electricity, your one sure-fire method of making sure nobody can see what you're doing, but there's only one way to find out. 

Getting on your knees in a bathroom stall might be a new one for you, but here you are, blindly sinking lower and lower. Can't quite see what you're doing, your eyes hopelessly locked on Bob Floyd and his pink cheeks. Hasn't even realized what you're doing yet.

There's probably a good minute or two where you just hover there, waiting for the moment he realizes that you've moved. Eye-level with his cock, lazily thumbing each and every bead of precum across his plush head, a little routine to decorate the loose up-and-down of your hand. But his eyelids remain closed, and you're just so damn impatient.

The greet of your tongue has him jumping up onto his tiptoes. His head smacking into the flimsy stall wall. 

"What was that?" 

It's as if the room has morphed into a library. Complete, utter silence. Nothing but the faint breaths of the men gathered outside of the stall, Bob's, and your own. From the gap, you can see a black and yellow shoe taking a step forward. Silently inching closer.

The whites of Bob's eyes are so big that you can hardly see the color that decorates them. Drowned out and lost to a wave of fear that you can feel prickling through his body. If only those stupid yellow shoes would turn around and walk away; you wanted to play this card a little bit longer. 

The bathroom plunges into darkness. 

So you do still remember how to do that.

Someone screams. You're not sure who, but it was far too high-pitched to be the man right in front of you. Maybe it was the loser with the yellow shoes. Audibly stomping across the tile floor, shouting at each other as they fight for the door. The hinge squeals. Someone accidentally kicks the corner of it on their way out. 

And then it swings closed. The room falling quiet as the sliver of light peeking through the gap disappears entirely. 

Your mouth opens, gently drawing Bob into your mouth. Thicker than what you anticipated, uncomfortably stretching your lips around his head, but it's only a slight inconvenience. You can hardly think about it. Especially not when flicking the tip of your tongue across his slit elicits that sort of noise. Pitchy and drawn out, slipping out of him before he can stop it.

"That's—" his palm finds its way to your forehead. Pushes lightly. Jerks away. Lands on the side of your cheek instead. "A lot." 

You have very different definitions of 'a lot'.

You're actually moving rather slowly, gradually working your way down his length. He's only just beginning to touch the back of your throat, but Bob sucks in a sharp gasp of air as if you've just sprung this on him. You'd complain if he didn't taste so sweet. Just can't help but take him as far as he'll go, the tip of your nose kissing the cold metal of his zipper, throat so full of him that your head spins. 

He's trying to say something. Little fragments of words that might or might not be your name. Breaking apart the moment they fall into his mouth, shattered pieces raining down upon you and your eager ears. 

Maybe you're too quick about this. A fraction too eager to draw all the way back, only to fall upon him once more, lazily letting yourself gag around him if only to hear him groan low in his throat and to feel his thighs shudder beneath your palms. 

"I'm—I'm already, I..." Bobby's panting. Pawing at the side of your face. Doesn't know if he wants to pry you off or push your head back down. 

You expected this. You knew he would be a little bit quick, but all of a sudden, he's twitching in your mouth, a rope of cum decorating your tongue and...

Honey.

Why does he taste like honey? 

It feels like a fluke at first. Has you drawing all the way back, sucking gently on his spasming tip, but it doesn't change. Overwhelmingly sweet and thick on your tongue. It doesn't...since when did human men taste like this? Good lord, what took you so long to find one like this?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Bob's abruptly pulling out of your mouth with a sharp 'pop,' the toilet paper roll audibly spinning as he grabs at it. 

The overhead light flickers back on. Damn near blinding. You nearly miss the shade of cherry decorating his cheeks. 

"Has anyone ever told you that you taste like honey?" 

---

"You can't be serious."

"No, something's gotta be wrong. I've picked something up somewhere," Bob doesn't seem to realize that he's started pacing again, striding back and forth across the room. "That doesn't...it shouldn't taste like honey!"

Your leg kicks off the edge of the exam table, taping him on the hip as he drifts past. "And what? You think a mystery STD will?"

"Maybe there's one I'm not considering," he stops dead in his tracks, looking you dead in the eye. "You should get tested too."

"Hard to catch a human virus if you aren't human," dragging your foot up the side of his thigh, "maybe it's just a succubus thing."

Bob's hand curls around your ankle, bringing it to rest comfortably against the side of his hip. "Huh?"

"I mean, like...maybe I taste it differently based on how much I like the person?" You're already grasping at straws as it is, but it's so hard to think when Bob is rubbing the back of your ankle like that. Diligent fingers pressing into strained muscle, drawing the tension away with every loose spiral.

"No," shaking his head as if to add emphasis to an already firm word. "I don't...no, that wouldn't make sense." 

That was your one and only theory, but, well, if he insists. "Alright, honey cum."

"Please, don't."

You're gone by the time the doctor decides to come back. Doesn't have a whole lot to say, but a few weeks later, there's a neatly folded paper on the counter with a whole bunch of negatives on it. 

Bob catches you looking at them, but he doesn't have anything to say about it. He's more intrigued by your appearance than anything else, brushing the pads of his fingers against one of your horns as he drifts past.

"Have you always had these?" He chirps, on a one-way track back to his coffee maker. His poor heart might stop if he pours himself anymore, but that doesn't seem to be stopping him.

"Technically, yes," it's a lazy reply, but you're not sure what else to say. "I didn't think to hide them today. What is that, your third cup of coffee today?" 

"Fifth," he corrects, unashamed about finishing off the pot. There's just enough left to fill his mug to the rim and then some. How he doesn't spill it, you'll never know. "Do all demons have horns?"

"Depends on the race, really," shrugging. "Succubi have short, narrow horns with vibrant colors, crossroad demons have horns similar to a Texas Longhorn, fallen angels don't have any at all..." You could keep going, but you would be talking for a long, long time.

You probably shouldn't be lingering around Bob's apartment, invisible to the naked eye as you lounge in the soft red couch and gaze out the window at every rise and fall of the sun. He seems to know that you're still here; hums something that sounds like your name when the cushion sinks beneath your weight. 

It's a cute apartment, really. A thrifted coffee table and an oversized bookcase that has already run out of room, excess books spilling over onto the shelves that were once reserved for figurines, and clever callbacks to movies. 

There's a stash of DVDs lurking inside of the TV stand, and in the ottoman, a pair of signed and framed Star Wars posters decorating the hallway. He thinks that he's spread out the anime enough to pass undetected, but you can clearly see the manga lurking in the smaller bookcase in his bedroom. There's a Naruto sticker hiding on the side of the fridge, a Pokemon in the bathroom cabinet, and so far, you have counted four Trigun figurines. 

Five, if you include the one you just watched him unwrap and place next to his model jet. This one kind of looks like him...

"Are you still in here?" Bob calls out from somewhere on the other side of the apartment. It might be the first time you've heard his voice rise above a mutter since he left the doctor's office. 

You're not entirely sure where he is. Haven't exactly moved from the couch now that the sun has fallen again, blankly gazing at the distant ocean as if it's a home you once knew like the back of your hand. 

He appears in the hallway. Fiddling with the edge of his t-shirt, his eyes squinting as he tries to scan the room without his glasses. You're still waiting for him to realize that he left them next to the stove again.

"Come out?" He tries again, ambling forward. "Please?" 

"Looking to terrorize your boss again?" Dissolving into solidity, the chilly air nipping unpleasantly at your skin. Invisible was better. You couldn't feel the temperature when you didn't have a body. 

Or...maybe you're feeling the temperature incorrectly because Bob looks like a shrimp mid-boil. Red in the cheeks, so flushed that it crawls down into his neck, and the sliver of chest showing through the collar of his shirt. 

"Bob?" Tilting your head to the side. 

"I wanna return the favor." Deadpan.

Blink.

Blink again.

Blink one more time.

You don't follow. "Pardon?"

"I mean, I..." his eyes skip around the room. Bouncing off of the coffee table to the poster behind your head, the miscellaneous figurine shelf, and the refrigerator. "You did something for me, and I...don't...like the idea of it being so one-sided?"

"Bob, I'm a succubus," there's supposed to be an underlying hint there because this is kind of the very reason for your existence, but Bob doesn't seem to pick up on that. Or maybe he does and just doesn't react. "Do you even know how?"

A beat passes. 

His head shakes. No.

"I'm a quick learner?" Offering it up like he's bartering. You wonder if you can get him to start offering crops and livestock. "Is that...okay?" 

You're not sure if it's the novelty of the idea or if it's because of that soft, doe-eyed expression he nails you with, but something has you agreeing to it. But just because you're on the same page together doesn't mean you'll be the very next sentence that he reads. 

You're gone the moment he's in front of you. 

"Where did you—"

"But you'll have to catch me first." Reappearing behind him. Walking your fingers up his spine. 

He turns. 

You're gone. Drifting behind his back again. Blowing at his nape. 

"Hey!" He squeals. So shrill and pitchy that it nearly throws you off. Only manage to dissolve into a plume of mist when he reaches for you. 

Bob is already spinning around. Blocks you from getting to his back again. And there must be some kind of 'tell' of where you are because his eyes follow you every which way. You'd might as well be fully human because this isn't working. 

You don't know how you get into the kitchen. But you're on one side, and Bob is on the other before you've even become solid. You stumble three steps to the right; he's already there. You go left. But then he goes left. You dart right—corner to corner to corner. Shit, you've put yourself in a corner. Either way you have to get past him. 

"Why are you so damn quick?" Giggling. Your feet slide against the hardwood. Not as fast as him. This will only last so long.

"Did you forget." He jumps left. "I'm in." Right. "The Navy?" Left again.

"I thought that meant you would be good at swimming!" You're slipping. Grabbing at the countertop before you can hit the floor. "Not—this!"

He breaks the pattern first. Shoots around the corner so quickly that you nearly don't have time to spin back around. His fingertips graze your back as you turn. You're tearing off around the corner. Dissolving bit-by-bit and—

There's a pressure around your waist, and the room is spinning, and you don't remember when or how your feet left the ground. 

"Bobby!" You're squealing, throwing your arms around his shoulders before you can slip. 

It's hard telling when or how things escalate the way that they do. All you remember is the coldness of the floor as he sets you back down, the heat of his arms around you, and the bump of his nose against your cheek. And melting. Fuck, you remember melting into him like snowflakes in July, meeting him halfway, his soft lips melding with yours so easily. 

You do remember when you fall against the couch. Nothing but ruby red cushions and the lingering pink in Bobby's cheeks, settling between your legs with such ease that you almost wonder if you've done this with him before. 

Christ, he could probably convince you that you've already had a few nights together. 

There's no reason why or how he should know that you're sensitive beneath your ear, mouthing at the skin there but never making a move to mottle it with bruises. Respectful. Irritatingly so. Never leaving behind a mark, not even when he bites at the collar of your shirt and grazes the skin that lurks beneath.

He wasn't lying when he said he was a quick learner. Is he sure that he's never done this before? Because he gets your lounge shorts off surprisingly easily. His waist dipping between your thighs, swollen lips finding your lower belly once more, working down, down, down...

"Shit," his tongue has you jolting, entirely caught off guard. "A little sudden there."

It's hard to feel any sort of annoyance when he peeks up at you from beneath his lashes, tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog. "'m sorry."

Your hand curls into the back of his hair, a fraction longer than it was when his so-called friends summoned you right into his lap. Only takes the slightest pressure for him to dip his head back down, licking a slow stripe against you. He misses your clit on the first try, pulls away a little too soon. But he finds it on the second, visibly perks at your sharp inhale, and retraces his steps until you do it again.

Learning should imply that he doesn't know what he's doing beforehand. You're gonna need to steal his dictionary off the shelf and look up the proper definition because you're pretty sure he was lying. 

There's no damn reason why he should know how to point his tongue and trace it around your clit, teasing until your hips lift off the mattress. Temporary relief comes in the form of the hum that rumbles out of him, vibrating through your nerves like electricity. He's settling into it now, laying flat on his belly, arms curled around your thighs as ifhe belongs there.

Fuck, and he's working his way down. Pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses into your dripping pussy, stopping to lap at your entrance before pressing inside. His tongue isn't even all that long, but the wet heat and the tip of his nose pressing against your clit yanks a gasp out of your throat, eyes snapping shut. 

Your thigh squishes against his cheek, leg looping lazily over his shoulder as if that could somehow possibly bring him closer. Fingers twist in his hair, nails scraping across his scalp—

"What the hell?" Your own voice sounds foreign. Detached from your body.

Bob lifts his head, and good lord, his lips are glistening. "Hm?"

"What is this little bump on your head?" Tapping your nail against it, uniquely bony compared to the rest of his scalp. Feels like a perfect circle.

"I don't know what they are," nonchalant, already dipping back between your legs, "'ve had 'em since I was born."

You can see them when you push his hair out of the way, little indentations beneath the skin, solid as can be. One on each side, a few inches above his ears. These kind of look like...

No, that's not right. 

That sweet tongue of his finds you again. Drawing lazy shapes that transform into shock waves on impact, rumbling up your spine and down into your fluttering thighs. Letters. He's drawing letters, and you can hardly decipher what they are, but the voice in the back of your head whispers that he's writing is name into your cunt. Over and over until he's certain that you'll never find pleasure in a name that isn't his. 

"Bobby, I..."

He hums, hands curling around your hips, pulling you in. Doesn't let go of that same lazy pace that he just set for himself, curling through an 'R' and into an 'O' so intoxicating that you find your own mouth mimicking it, too. You don't mean to cum so soon. You really don't, but your eyes unintentionally lock with his, that tiny smile curling the corners of them, and shit—

Your back twitches up off the bed. Crying out so sharply that it rips right out of your throat. Your head might just tumble off your shoulders. Floating up into the clouds, heaven-bound. Weightless. 

The hands on your hips tighten. Anchoring you back down. Bob's burning tongue working you through it like he's done it a hundred times until your body is tensing and jerking away from every little lick.

"Jesus," sucking in a breath, "Christ." 

Bob lifts his head, swollen lips twisting into a cheesy grin. "Wrong name." 

"Nerd," tapping him on the nose.

"Demon," biting the inside of your thigh. 

It's hard telling who sputters into a laugh first. Giggling like school kids as he climbs up the bed, his mouth clumsily finding its way to yours. It's so much easier to hold his face when his glasses aren't in the way; don't have to worry about smudging a lense or accidentally knocking them off his face entirely. 

If you thought that you were bad, then Bob Floyd is another monster entirely because once he's gotten a taste of you, he can't get enough. 

Because he's on you again in the morning, kissing at your shoulder and working his way down your naked belly before his final alarm goes off and forces him to start getting ready for work. His sweet tongue working over your clit, chasing down a vastly different zig-zag pattern as he eases a thick, curious finger into you. Lazily searches for a little spot that steals your breath away and has you babbling for another.

In the evening, he's nibbling and kissing at your thighs while you wait for the pizza delivery guy is on his way. Leaves behind sporadic little marks that gradually acquire a delicious tenderness that makes you gasp when you try to cross your legs later. 

You answer to the sound of your name on an average Tuesday afternoon. An unapproved presence in a top-security Naval building, perched up on the edge of a locker room bench like you belong there. Like you, too, are a pilot with a willingness to perform and just the right amount of crazy flowing through your veins. 

Bob doesn't utter a word about it, but you know that one of his superiors has chewed him out again because his cheeks are pale as can be, eyes only softening at the sight of you appearing before him. And maybe he's a little bit too eager to fall to his knees, peppering your skin with kisses that make their way to where you crave them the most. 

Again and again. An addict who seems to need his fix every time he's overwhelmed. It's your purpose, the very thing you were built for, but the invisible string that draws you into him is unlike any other you've been wrapped up in before. An undescribable something-else lurking behind the charm of those wireframes and his warm, dizzying voice. Never asks for anything in return, all too content with eating you alive.

Your favorite might be the night that he pulls a muscle in his shoulder blade. One little misstep in the gym is all it takes for a night and a half of overwhelming soreness, binding him flat on his back, minding his left side. But even the mix of ibuprofen, Tylenol, and a dash of pain isn't enough to keep him grounded.

"I have an idea." It's been forever since you last heard him speak. The last time you recall hearing his voice was last night when he asked you to pass him his toothbrush.

"Uh oh," not in any particular hurry to lift your head from his chest, naked and oh so warm to the touch. 

"What?" He's trying to act offended, but the attempt dies mid-air. Won't be making a living in acting any time soon, that's for sure. 

Tapping your finger on his collarbone, overtop a thin white scar you've yet to learn the story of. "Don't 'what' me." 

His laugh sounds like thunder. Deep and rumbling into your ears, a tune you didn't know you craved until just now. 

A familiar warmth settles against your cheek, diligent fingers tracing the edge of your jaw. "What if I told you I had another idea?"

One of these days, you'll learn to quit being surprised. 

Today, you're shocked that he asked you to ride his face. 

Shit, but here you are. Knees precariously resting above his head. Trying your best not to let your thighs clamp down around his face as he dips his tongue between your folds, half-lidded gaze fixated on your expression. You've long since lost count of how many times you've felt this. The soft whisps of his short hair tickling your skin, the way he hums when he hears you gasp.

"You've got," raking your fingers against his scalp, anything to distract from the calculated zig-zag across your clit, "a problem." 

"Maybe that's what's wrong with me," muffled. His every word rumbling through your core and reaching up into your chest. 

"Yeah, well..." drinking in a shuddered breath, "you being addicted to eating me out was not on that list."

It's his fault for laughing again. Should have known that the vibration would have twisted into your nerves and sent them firing, thighs impulsively clamping down around his head with no regard for him or breathing. 

Fuck, it takes a moment to remember how to move them again. 

"I'm sorry," and you're about to lift yourself up, let him get a full breath of air, but his hands find your hips, anchoring you into place. 

"'s okay," pausing to lap at your clit, wet and messy, and god, the sound. "I don't mind."

He'd say that if you accidentally suffocated him to death, too.

Your nails drift across his scalp. Dragging just enough to feel the shift of hair beneath your fingertips, disturbing the hardened bump lurking just a few inches above his ear. You know that it's probably because of the swelling, but you swear it feels bigger than it did a few days ago. And maybe it's sensitive too because, for the briefest moment, you catch the whisp of a gasp. A sharp little intake of air punctuating the way he drifts down to toy with your entrance. 

They're worse the following morning.

He's only just beginning to settle between your legs, diligently kissing down the inside of your thigh, when the brush of your knee sends him reeling. Pawing at the sides of his head. Wincing. Yelping at his own touch.

"Did I—"

"No!" He blurts. Pitchy. "I'm sorry, it's, I—it hurts."

Even the delicate pressure of an ice pack is too much for him to tolerate, hissing like a cat the moment the material touches his skin. You're not entirely sure what to make of them. Dissolving into the air around him for a better view, drifting around his head, twisting every which way as if discovering the perfect angle will reveal the secret.

It doesn't...look infected. Strained is the best descriptor you can come up with. As if something is trying to claw its way out from beneath the skin. 

"And you said you've had these since you were born?" Musing aloud, resisting the urge to reach out and touch them.

Hands find your waist as you settle into your human shape once more. "That's what I'm told." Then, tilting his head to look up at you, not making any move to get out of his chair. "Why, what did you see?"

"The same thing you're seeing," you can't help but push his hair back, watching the short strands gradually slip free from your fingers. "Must be a really odd birth defect."

He hums, blinking up at you without a word, perhaps not as concerned about his situation as he should be. Not a trace of worry clouding his features, though the corner of his eye twitches when you unintentionally drift over one of the bumps. 

It's the same kind of gaze that gets you into trouble three nights later. 

He doesn't seem to realize that he's doing it, drowning you in pools of ocean blue every time he looks your way. You don't understand how you make it through the night. He's just so damn distracting. Tapping his foot against yours beneath the table, legs tangling as a nameless mid-forties man in a fancy suit rambles on about the honor of working in the Navy and things you don't care to follow. 

You don't know how you get to the hotel bed. Only vaguely aware of the sensation of your feet leaving the ground, thighs clinging to the sharp bone of his hips. One of his hands is on your ass, and the other is smoothing up your back. Presses just hard enough to have you arching, chests bumping together hard enough to break your kiss.

"Bobby—"

"I know."

The room collapses into a world of pristine white clouds—or maybe you've just fallen onto the bed. You can't tell for sure. Can't be bothered to. Not when a familiar pressure appears against your lips, his firm body settling between your legs with a weight you can't possibly ignore. 

He tastes like the hot chocolate they poured into his cup when he turned down the champagne. Sweet and so warm that you can feel yourself melting, and you must be made of chocolate, too, because he moves as if he's going to eat you alive. Hands rising to cradle your face, settling into a lingering liplock that has you gasping for air.

Your head is spinning. One hand curling around his bicep. The other smoothing up the side of his burning neck. Hardly aware of how your hips lift up from the mattress, but all too aware of him meeting you in the middle. A new pressure forms between your legs. The not-so-subtle bump of a growing bulge against your cunt. 

Curse the layers of fabric separating you from each other. Can't do anything but meet him halfway. Mewling into his mouth like a cat in heat. Legs curling around his hips. The heels of your ankles digging into his ass, urging him closer, closer, closer.

Something trickles across your fingers. Smearing across his neck. 

"What is that?" It's sliding down your palm, scurrying past your wrist and beyond. Water? No, where would it have come from...

Bob draws away, an unusual chill filling the space he once occupied. "What is what?" 

Your hand is crimson. 

Why is your hand...?

"Oh my god." Reeling back. Hands held high as if that can possibly stop the blood that drips from your fingertips, so fresh that you can still feel the warmth of it. 

It's everywhere. Staining the fresh sheets, smeared across the back of Bob's neck, pooling at the shoulders of a brand new uniform that will never be the same again. It's on the shell of his ear and in his hair and—

"Oh my god," you sound like a broken record, but it's all you can say. "Bobby, your head."

---

Looking back on it, you're thankful Bob booked a room with two beds instead of one. 

There's no salvaging or rectifying the utter disaster going on in the bed that he claimed as his when you first got here. The sheets and comforter torn clean off, lying in a messy pile, waiting for the front desk to call back and tell you what to do with them. From here, they look perfectly fine, still the same shade of pure white, as if nothing has ever happened. 

Your attention meanders across the floor, tracing the lines of geometric shapes, following them on their journey between the beds until they disappear beneath the mattress. Bob's foot still hangs off the edge, a smidge too lazy to try and readjust himself now that he's found home here on your chest.

It's almost strange being here. Snuggling on a hotel bed with a man who didn't even summon you wasn't on the job description. Hell, the last time you even set foot in a place like this was probably years before you realized what you were and fully committed to the whole demonic entity thing. 

"Why don't you ever leave?" Bob's voice rumbles into your collar, a smidge deeper than it was the last time you heard it. 

"You never said you were satisfied with me," darting from your mouth before you can realize what you're about to say. A script so rehearsed that your tongue needs no instruction to utter it.

The room is quieter than it was before.

Which...is odd because nothing about it has changed. The cheap air conditioner still rattles to its own mechanic tune. You can still hear the girl talking on the phone in the hallway. Through the wall behind your head, the neighbor's television still plays the rerun of what sounds like a football game. 

Bob's eyes are open. Can feel the flutter of his lashes against the side of your neck. If you didn't know any better, you would mistake it for the dustings of tiny butterfly wings.

But he doesn't say anything. 

"I'm sorry, I...that may have come out the wrong way."

"'s okay." Says it so quickly that you wonder if he's listened to your apology at all. 

Antsy, you reach for his hair, fingers coming through the still-damp locks. A little bit fried after two full washes, but it was the necessary sacrifice to get all of that blood out. 

You've got to crane your neck to see the culprit, but it's still there, in the same state it was the last time you laid eyes on it. Scabbed over. No longer as swollen as it once was, but there's still something solid lurking beneath the surface. You could have sworn you saw a flash of white in there before it had closed up again, but looking at it now, there's nothing. 

"I think I just like being around you," concluding, after a long moment. 

'Like' may be an understatement, but...

The corner of his mouth is turning upward. You know it is because you can feel it against your chest. "I like being around you, too."

---

And here you thought you'd figured out what Robert Floyd defines as a party. 

Bubbling glasses of golden champagne, the same shade of the delicate chandelier sparkling overhead, crystals cascading down like a spiral staircase. Enchanting. Beginning three stories up and only ending mere feet away from where you stand, you could probably touch it if you tried. 

Such a stark contrast to the midnight peeking through the windows, twinkling city lights of every color in the rainbow drowned out by the blinding white and gold palette you've found yourself in. Unfamiliar faces and dresses worth more than a car fresh off the lot, wrapped up in the whimsical tune of a live orchestra off to your left.

So many things to look at. Luxury desserts and vivid red couches cozied up beside the fire. There's more to be discovered, entire rooms you have yet to venture into, a custom theater, a cocktail bar...yet, your eyes continue to drift to the only familiar thing here.

And his appear to do the same.

Locking from opposite sides of the room, the buzz of the crowd melting into a distant hum, as if you've just plunged into the very crystal oceans that color his irises. The heat of his gaze is the only thing keeping your head above water, burning across every inch of your skin. It's a wonder you don't go up in flames right here and now.

Glass shatters somewhere to your left. A lady yelps. Someone swears. But you can't bring yourself to look to see what just happened. Captured in a never-ending trance as you move about the room, only able to look away for milliseconds at a time. 

One of Bob's friends are talking to him, mouth moving a mile a minute, but Bob doesn't seem to be listening—Fireball or...something. The name should come to you easier than it does. Bob's told you so many stories of them together, but you fear you've spent too much time lingering on the sound of his voice to actually store and remember the fine details. 

The music swells. 

Heads turn toward the melody, and with it, feet begin to move. It's as if one-half of the party has vanished, opening up the floor enough for you to walk without worry of bumping into anyone. You wouldn't even be in this position if filtering through different forms was socially acceptable and not the quickest way to give someone a heart attack. 

It's like drawing too close to a fire, the flames so bright that you can hardly look at them without being blinded. Except the flames are the open buttons at the very top of his long sleeve, milky white skin peeking through the gap. He's grown a bit since this was fitted, the fabric hugging a little too tightly around his chest, straining already weakened seams. Two of the buttons have already snapped off, unveiling more than he would ever willingly show off. 

He would catch your staring if he weren't already doing the same damn thing. Knows he's been caught, too, cheeks dusting a cherry red the moment he tears his attention away from the slit in your dress, showing off your upper thigh. 

But Fanbase is still talking, rambling on about the subplot of a movie that you've yet to see, and you're simply not interested enough to linger any longer than you have to. Gliding past Bobby as if you hadn't just made eye contact with him, your hand trailing up the side of his arm on your way past. 

The door couldn't come quickly enough, and you disappear through it with nothing more than a wayward glance over your shoulder.

He's still looking at you. 

It's so much quieter in the hallway, all that noise and music vanishing the moment the door swings shut behind you. You're not sure where you're going; didn't plan this far ahead, but you can already see a floor-to-ceiling window that looks interesting enough. A decorative fountain rests in front of it, the water sparkling with the city lights.

The view is better at night. Still breathtaking during the day, but...god, something about the velvet black and twinkling shades of neon really bring out the charm of a city like this. Though you've still yet to figure out why a Navy event is all the way up here, in the tallest building they could find. One of their own venues would have sufficed; then they wouldn't have had to rent all these hotel rooms. 

"Your dress looks awful familiar." Maybe Bob is hiding magic powers of his own because there's no way he could have snuck up on you without floating here.

But there he is. Shoulder resting against the wall, arms folded over his chest. The rolled sleeves are struggling with his forearms, fabric so tight that the threads silently scream. 

"Does it?" Coy. You entirely stole this idea from the front cover of the magazine he had sitting on the kitchen counter. 

You don't mean to step forward at the same time he does, but you do. Nose to nose in the blink of an eye, so close that your vision goes a little blurry and out of focus. 

A door slams down the hall.

The invisible string snaps.

Your hands are in his hair, and his are on your waist, and mouths are clattering with all the grace and elegance of a car crash. The back of your leg hits the fountain. Sends the thing jumping as you all but slam into the window. It's a wonder you don't go crashing through it, plummeting through miles upon miles of midnight neons. 

Because it certainly feels like you did. 

Head spinning as if you're in a free fall. Fingers twisting in his hair before unspoken forces can peel you away, sloppily falling into tune with the bold dance of his lips. Fuck, it's so much more than what you've spent the past fifteen minutes picturing in your head. He tastes like cola and honey, so dizzyingly sweet that a sugar rush buzzes through your veins.

What is it with you and this human? 

It's as if you're one half of a magnet, hopelessly bound to him by forces that you can't quite identify. Yielding to the subtle pressure of his hands, allowing him to gather you into his chest as if you aren't close enough as it is. Heaven, Hell, and Earth could collapse right here and now, and it still wouldn't be enough to drive a wedge between you. 

"And here I thought you weren't the PDA type," that thought was supposed to stay in your head, but it's far too late to do anything about it.

"I think this is a little beyond PDA," Bob's mouth twists into a smile too soon. Teeth smash together with a sound that makes you wince. 

There are voices down the hallway, familiar, but you don't care to try and identify them. Whoever they are, they don't get a chance to see you here because Bob's taking hold of your wrist, and you're falling into the clumsiest run imaginable. Arms awkwardly tangling together. His boots too new to grip the floor. Giggling to yourselves as you slide to the right, fighting to get around the corner before he can be recognized. 

You're already crashing into each other again. And again. And again. Stealing kisses as if you need one for every few steps taken. Can't function otherwise. Winding through the hall, no regard for where you're going or if it's even the right direction, barging through a door and racing up the stairs. You trip on one. Bob falls on his ass on another.

It's a damn wonder how you find the correct door. 

At least, you assume it's the right one because your back all but slams into it; don't even hear the noise that rattles down the empty hall. How are you meant to pay attention to such meaningless things, when a soft pressure appears at your lips? Greedily leaning into it as you all but melt into one another, his breath running ragged.

The key. You need the key. 

It's somewhere on him, your hands blindly smoothing over his chest, searching for the outline of that thin plastic key card. And so what if you momentarily hook your fingers into the top of his shirt? It could have been hiding there, for all you know.

Bob finds it just before you do. Plucking the hunk of plastic from his front pocket, and you can feel the heat of his arm as he reaches past.

Beep.

Gravity tilts on its head. Falling backward. 

Toned arms loop around your waist. Force you to remain upright. Pulling you close like there's a risk of you blowing away. Stumbling backward. Through the door. You don't know how your arms got around his neck, but you're not making any move to let go. Clinging to him like it's the only thing you know how to do. Nose bumping into his cheek as you find your way to his mouth once more. 

One fleeting, accidental brush of his teeth against your lip has electricity bolting up your spine. Shades of gold explode in the depths of your frenzied mind. Fireworks. Tongues tangle for the briefest of seconds. But then he's licking at your bottom lip, and it's parting with a gasp, a little too eager to let him in. Twisting together in a fashion entirely unfamiliar to you, an exquisite dance that has you melting like snow on a summer day.

The mattress greets the backs of your knees, a gentle nudge that has you falling backward without ceremony. He's on top of you within a second, forearms bracing his weight on either side of your head, chests pressing together, and—

"Mmh."  His legs spasm around your thigh, only to push it up into him again, pressing against the growing tent in his slacks. Heavy. 

"What was that?" In the lightest tone you can conjure up, rubbing your thigh against him once more. 

His face flushes red. Eyes darting away like he'll catch on fire if he keeps looking at you, but there's no hiding the way he twitches at your touch. And he knows you've felt it because, somehow, his cheeks get even redder. 

"What, don't like being teased?"  

"I might die if you keep talking." 

You'd like to see how true that statement can be. But that's an experiment for another night; you can only take your mind off of the throbbing heat resting against your thigh for so long. 

Fuck, and it seems he's on the same page. Spit-slicked lips find the corner of your jaw, one of his hands smoothing down your side as he works his way beneath your ear. One kiss after the other, only lingering long enough to lightly suck on the skin there. Teeth scrape against you, and you absolutely shouldn't shudder at such a simple feeling, but it happens anyway.

Just like how you wander to his shirt, perhaps a bit too eager to start fumbling with the buttons. They're just as stubborn as you thought they would be, angrily wedging themselves in the gaps designed for them to fit through. Stupid things. Who ever thought these were a good idea?

Bob reaches past you, his wrist bumping your hand away—

Buttons scatter. Rolling across the floor. Bouncing across the bed. One strikes your chin. Another thunks against the headboard.

"I didn't know you had it in you," giggling. Only have a handful of seconds to admire the broad expanse of his pale chest before he's on you again. Picking up right where he left off, somewhere beneath your ear, where you're most sensitive. 

His hum sounds like it's wrapped around the shape of your name, vibrating up your neck, rattling around in your skull like an earthquake. It's a wonder you don't fall apart. Fingertips biting into his shoulders, squeezing them as tightly as you can. And he just keeps kissing on you. Working down, down, down to your collar, only stopped by the fabric of your dress.

You can make it disappear.

He knows you can make it disappear.

And yet his hands slip behind your back, tugging down the tiny zipper that runs parallel to your spine. 

Takes the time to ease the soft material off your body, impossibly slow, as if he's afraid of ripping it. Past your hips and over your knees. Folds it in half and sets it off to the side. And for a moment, he pauses. Lips shining with the same light that reflects off his glasses, hardly distracting from the sparkle of his eye. 

Kisses find the inside of your knee. Working across the joint and delving into the delicate territory of your thigh. It's a tune he's played so many times that you already know where he's going and what thoughts are lurking in the back of his quiet mind. Tempting, but...

The dog tags hanging from his neck are too perfect not to grab. Why he's wearing them, you're not sure, but they reel him back in so damn easily. 

But Bob freezes the moment you're eye to eye with him, not entirely sure how to tread this newfangled path he's found himself on. And that must be what makes it so easy to push him around. Flipping your positions with a skill you forgot you had, your ass snug in his lap, knees straddling his hips.

The back of his head thunks against the headboard, unnamed shades of red rising to tint his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

"You're sure?" He croaks; for a split second, you're on the ship again, meeting for the very first time. 

"Are you sure?" Countering. The bridge of your nose bumps into his. 

You don't necessarily remember what happens after that. 

It all melts into a blur. Starts with you bouncing a button off his bare chest and ends with the sound of his pants hitting the floor next to you. You don't know who got the lube out. It must have been him because you still don't know where it even came from, but it's the sensation of his slick fingers pressing into you that catapults you back into reality. 

"You remember that I'm a succubus, right?" The intended sarcasm doesn't so much as reach your vocal chords, nothing but a breathy whisper of the obvious. 

A smile is all that he gives in return. "I know."

It's been too long since the last time you felt this. The pressure of thick fingers slipping into your already drooling cunt, knuckles catching on your entrance as they drag past. Coarse fingertips drag against your walls, crooked, running across a bundle of nerves that he has no business knowing about. Knows he's found it too, the corner of his mouth twitching upward at the sound of your whine. 

Yeah. 

It's been too long. 

That's why you're so sensitive all of a sudden.

It's certainly not because of the heavy cock resting against the swell of your ass. Has nothing to do with the pools of blue that lurk in his eye; you reckon you'd drown in them if you were to fall forward. No, you only feel like that because of the never-ending city view that sits just past his head. Broad and expansive, just like...just like his shoulders...

You don't realize what your hand is doing until you overhear his sharp inhale. His body jerks, shocked by the sudden trace of your fingers running up the underside of his cock. 

Impatience will be the undoing of both of you. In such a sudden hurry that lube spills onto the bed in your rush to slick him up, and it's only after that he realizes he's forgotten about the condom. Doesn't matter. The damn thing flies out of his hand when he tries ripping it open with his teeth, landing somewhere on the floor.

"Again," lifting your hips, lazily smacking his blunt tip against your cunt, "succubus."

"I'm sorry," he's yet to realize you're merely messing with him. Condom, no condom, you don't care either way. "I don't wanna make a mess of you."

"Maybe I want you to make a mess of me," countering. And it's the last thing you can say before the pressure of his cock shuts you up. 

If you asked, you're certain he would humbly refer to himself as average, but this is...this is so much better than average. Thicker than usual and wonderfully curved, fitting that a man so intent on pleasing you would also have the perfect cock, too. Stretches you just enough to make your jaw go slack, his fat tip dragging against every little nerve it can find. 

Bob tilts his head back, his chest rising with a heavy inhale, and that may be a whine that you hear. His lashes flutter, visibly fighting to keep them open as you sink down on him. Inch after inch, and it's been so long since you last felt this full. 

And maybe they've sucked all of the oxygen from the room because neither of you can seem to catch your breath. 

"That's..." his eyes drop down, fixating on the sight of him disappearing into you, "shit, that's..."

He doesn't get to finish that thought, and you don't get the chance to bother him about it, entirely distracted by the overwhelming sensation of him bottoming out. Your ass flush with his thighs, so damn full of him that your heart has risen into your throat. 

You've already found the strength to lift your body again. Bracing your hands on his shoulders, using him for leverage as your hips lift, the city lights seeming to twinkle when he rubs into those soft nerves. Can only manage to raise yourself by an inch or two before collapsing down into him once more. 

The warmth of Bobby's gaze crawls up your naked body, slow, like he's trying to take his time before he meets your eye. And when he does...

"You still in there?" Winding your arms around his neck. Can't seem to get him close enough.

His tongue darts out to wet his swollen lips, dry from panting, "uhuh." 

You suppose he's telling the truth because he's present enough to remember how to tilt his head up and catch you with a kiss—breathing hard through your noses. His hands squeezing your hips. Holding them through every rise and fall. 

Lube squelches between your legs. His cock head driving directly into that bundle of nerves again, your pussy helplessly spasming around him. You fear you're going to shatter into a million pieces if he does that again, but there's no attempt to shift your angle. Chasing that sensation again, crying out as a shock bolts up your spine. 

"Bobby," it slips out so easily. Riding on the coattails of a gasp. 

Foreheads knock together. So close that the sight of him goes a little bit fuzzy. Noses bumping when his hips twitch up, snapping into yours so swiftly that it knocks a whimper out of you. Just makes him do it again, and you are not living up to the whole succubus thing by collapsing into his shoulder. 

"Fuck, I can—" he grunts, punctuated by the lewd slap of skin against skin, "can feel you clenchin' around me." 

And you can feel him twitch inside of you. Such a simple feeling that has you getting wetter around him, can only imagine what kind of mess is forming between your bodies right now. You'd look, but it's hard enough pulling yourself back, thighs burning, desperate to work back into the rhythm you just...built up...

Is...that...?

"What's wrong?" Bob has stopped moving at...some point. You don't know when that was. The concept of time passing is a little bit irrelevant right now.

Words don't necessarily come to you. Fleeting chunks of vaguely related sentences that you can't quite stitch together. You don't...that's not...when did...?

The only thing you can think of is to touch one of them. 

His back jerks off the headboard. Sucking in a gasp. Eyes going wide. But then, twitching at the corners, pretty blue irises rolling back, his cock spasming despite your lack of movement. For a moment, not a sound seems to escape him, but then it's all shattered by a barely muffled whimper. 

"So that's what's wrong with you." Deadpan. 

Touching them made him cum. That's... somewhat familiar, actually. 

Bobby's eyes can barely tear themselves open, fighting against them as he blinks up at you. "What?" 

You're almost hesitant to touch them again. Two tiny horns, no more than an inch tall, poking out from where those pesky bumps once resided. 

Horns. Of course. Why did you think you were wrong when you considered that earlier? They're identical to yours! A few inches above the ear, wide at the base and growing narrow as it nears the tip. Jet black for the time being, but they'll develop their color with time. 

The one upside to being a succubus. Uniquely colored horns. 

"Not to bring up family while all seven and a half inches of you are inside of me," because you're not sure about how to start this conversation, jumping on the first half-baked plan that comes to mind. "But are you entirely sure your folks are human?"

His head tilts. "Why?" 

The only thing you can think of is to take a picture. Those two tiny horns poking out like they're part of a cute headband, so ridiculously small in person and even smaller on his phone. As you pass it off to him, you catch yourself wondering if he'll see them at all. 

"...huh." Is all that he can say. 

They're far too sensitive for him to touch, not after what mess you just caused, but he tries. Winces the moment his fingertips make contact with the fresh new bone; you can only imagine this is how you reacted the first time your horns made their appearance, too. 

You wonder if there's anything behind them. You've seen a few variations where a second pair sprouted behind the first, but you can't see anything from this angle. If you just lean a little further to the right—

A whimper twists through the air. Pretty blue eyes squeeze shut.

"I'm sorry, I—"

"No, no, no, don't," his hands are back on your hips, pulling you back down into his lap before you've even moved an inch, and oh, you can feel his cum beginning to spill out of you. Fuck, there's so...there's so much of it. It'll make a mess of the bed if you're not careful, but you can't move. Not with those big hands anchoring you down. 

But he's not done talking. 

"Keep going," he blurts, his chest shuddering with a breath. Horns be damned, those aren't on his mind right now. "Please, I just, I want, I want you to—" 

A swivel of your hips shuts him up. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, already too late to stifle the pitchy little noise that sails out of his throat. God, that's a hell of a sound. Combined with the way his half-hard cock twitches in you, it's almost too much to bear. He can hardly handle it himself, squirming, not sure if he wants to push into you or away from you. 

"There!" Stardust twinkles behind your eyes. "Right there. Don't move."

It's as if the room has exploded into a galaxy. Midnight black and the deepest shades of navy, decorated in a rainbow of distant, twinkling stars. You and him and this big, oversized hotel bed. Weightless. Floating round and round, further and further away, until you're lost to the Milky Way itself. 

The fat tip of his cock drives up into those nerves again. Space nearly swallows you up once more. "Bobby..."

Your eyes must have been closed because you don't remember his head tipping back. Dazed, flushed cheeks, so entirely focused on you that the rest of the world ceases to exist at all. Pitchy whimpers, stumbling off his drooling tongue, overstimulated but making no move to push you off of him.

His lips seal. Hardly manages to muffle his noises, but it's already too quiet for your liking.

One of your hands curls around his cheek. Thumb pressing against his bottom lip, hardly takes any pressure for him to give way, allowing you in. And his poor tongue is right there, practically begging you to pin it down, and who are you to deny such a request?

Heat twists in your belly. Pussy clenching tighter around him. Your motions growing jerky. Sporadic. Sparks of color flash behind your eyelids, growing heavier by the second. And it's so fucking loud in this room. Whimpers. Cries. Blending together so seamlessly that you can't tell who makes what noise. Every motion punctuated by an all-too-loud squelch of cum and lube, fuck, this bed is going to be ruined after this.

"I-I'm—" Bob whines, tongue flexing beneath your thumb. Eyes glassy, one blink away from tears spilling over the brim. 

"Close." Don't know if you're finishing his sentence or speaking for yourself. 

It washes over you with all the strength and violence of a tidal wave. Hips stalling. Head falling back. Cumming on his cock with an unexpected cry, heat racing through your veins, skin prickling, breath hung up in your throat. You think your eyes cross. Can't really figure out how true that is, too busy floating through the cracks in the universe to think about anything but the spasm of his length inside of you. 

And you're vaguely aware that he's cumming, too, his cries vibrating through your thumb and deep into your bones. 

"Still in there?" You find yourself asking after a moment. 

Bob hums and you're only now realizing that his glasses are gone, blinking up at you with unfocused eyes. Where they've gone, you don't know; don't think you could get up and look for them if you tried. 

All of the strength has left your legs. Thighs trembling as you lift yourself from his lap. And they can only hold you up for so long before you find yourself collapsing next to him, greeted by the significantly cooler sheets. 

Those horns are still there. All too present as he tries to snuggle down onto a pillow, inconveniently brushing against the fabric. You're both a damn mess. His lower belly glistens in the light, and you can already feel his cum beginning to spill out of you onto the sheets. 

Sheets that you don't want to change for a cleaner set. 

But the shower is so far away...and Bob is curling his arm around you. Pulling you closer to him as if the six inches of space between your bodies is too much for him to handle. Your nose bumps into his chin, the slightest hint of stubble growing there.

You should hide his razor and see what happens.

"How do I make them disappear?" Bob's voice cracks in the middle, sporadically skyrocketing in pitch. Water might do him good, but...damn, the fridge is by the bathroom. 

"I'll teach you, eventually," your voice isn't doing much better; you can hardly get it above a whisper. "I wanna see them on you for a little longer first."

His eyes roll, shaking his head all the while. Almost like he expected you to say that. But he doesn't call you out on it, content to tilt his head down and shut you up instead. Swollen lips crashing together, lazily tangling. A small explosion would be less messy, tongues licking into each other's mouths and teeth clacking so hard that your even bones recoil at the sensation. 

...but there's pressure on your shoulder, and you're rolling onto your back, his comfortable weight settling on top of you. Half hard against your thigh. 

"Satisfied?" You murmur, though you suppose you already know the answer to that.

His lips curl into a smile. Devilish, even. "No."

You're beginning to think you've swapped roles in this relationship.

[alice-the-demon]

Hell Tower Lore (Demons: classes and stages)

Ah, Hell... The place of damnation par excellence, full of people that didn't make the nicest choices when they were alive and/or have a very bad behaviour, ruled by 7 monsters that represents the famous 7 deadly sins and the worst of humanity.

Demons are creatures with animal-like behaviours that can be really dangerous depending on what kind of personality they have and on the powers that reflects the sin they represent, but can be defeated if exposed to the sun and they'll become a pile of dust. Pretty much like vampires.

When a person ends up in hell they either become an Imp or a Hell Animal:

Imps can be recognised by their "almost human" look: they have pointy ears, claws, fur, a long tail and horns (+ an extra feature that differs for each demon depending on what sin they represent), their way of acting is similar to cats. They're the weakest kind of Demons, people who in their earthly lives did some light yet bad things, like hurting someone else once (verbally or physically) or having done some controversial actions without redeeming themselves... In short, overall people that may seem okay but revealed to be problematic to have around. They can either transform into Angels when they get redeemed with the help of an Archangel, or in a Hell Animal if their behaviour/mindset gets worse during their stay in Hell.

Hell Animals are anthropomorphic creatures that have less of a human aspect and more of an, well, animal. They're people who, in their earthly lives, either hurt/abused someone else multiple times, contributed to a grave crime/genocide, have a very messed up mentality or somehow did all of the above. They're generally criminals who are better to avoid, they might even start a deadly fight if you accidentally bump into them. Although they can be very hotheaded and hard to reason with, they can become better and transform into an Imp... But most times these people can become so rotten that they spiral even deeper into their sin, to the point they transform into horrid beasts.

Hell Beasts are the final stage of Demons, they're monsters as big as houses and they're recognised as the most dangerous and mortal creatures in creation. On the contrary of the previous stages, the Beasts aren't capable of going back or redeeming, they've lost the last piece of humanity they had and become violent beings with their first thought in mind being attacking and/or eat anything they see. They live in the forest at the center of Hell, near to the castle where the 7 Deadly Sins live and away from the Imps and Hell Animal's city so that they don't end up mauled.

Demons are categorised in 7 classes and they all have different powers as I'll show here.

(⚠️CW for suggestive pose and sexual themes in the Lust section, +16⚠️)

Wrath

The most destructive kind, they have super strength and high durability, their claws are capable of cutting through hard metals. They are recognizable by their more pumped arm muscles, red fur and the tip of their tail resembling a lightened fuse of a bomb.

Imp: they might be small but still capable of doing some damage if provoked. When angry they might act like cats. It's kinda adorable tho

Animal: they look like anthropomorphic bulls. They're more easy to make them angry and can defeat anyone by simply flicking the opponent.

Beast: bull-like monsters with multiple legs. They spend most of their time giving headbutts on the tree trunks of the forest or attacking other beasts/anyone who meets their eyesight.

Pride

Let's be fair, they're the hardest ones to bear. This kind of Demons believe they're the best and most powerful ones, although they don't really don't have anything spectacular aside from being able to run as fast as a cheetah. They are recognizable by their more pumped leg muscles, orange fur and the tip of their tail resembling an arrow.

Imp: they don't have many peculiarities, you can see them strut all the time.

Animal: they look like anthropomorphic fishes. Now they're both quick both on land AND water, their teeth are more sharp and their fur is constantly wet.

Beast: piranha looking creatures with limbs to walk on land. They are so quick that you can barely follow them with your eyes. It only takes a moment of distraction to find out one second later that one of your limbs is missing and that it's in the monster's jaws.

Greed

The most hated ones in Hell. With their increased stealth abilities and ability to fly these bastards can be excellent thieves and scammers, giving Hell many economical problems because of it. They are recognizable by their bird wings, yellow fur and the tip of their tail resembling a claw.

Imp: they spend most of their time in the streets, always finding new victims to snatch their wallets or anything expensive looking.

Animal: they're half Imps and half ravens. You can see them soaring in the skies of Hell, often straight up nosediving towards the localised objective. 60% of the time they also accidentally grab the person they're stealing from because of how big their claws are.

Beast: raven-looking monsters with many claws, they live hidden in the bushes of the forest. If you have the misfortune to get caught by one of them you won't be able to get freed by their grasp, as their claws are as strong as the thickest metal around.

Envy

These guys have amplified senses, capable of seeing objects and hearing even the smallest whisper from great distances. It might seem like a pretty weak power at first, but used well it can be helpful in battles to anticipate the enemy's moves. Plus these Demons often get paid to stalk others by request. They are recognizable by their fly wings, green fur and their tail resembling a magnifying glass.

Imp: they live their lives normally with the exception that most of them give a menacing look to anyone they cross. Other times you can see them angrily mumbling with themselves as they listen to a conversation from the other side of the city.

Animal: they look like insects with humanoid limbs. These guys are pretty much known for giving the coldest insults to others, preferring to obsess over others's business than taking care of themselves.

Beast: fly-looking creatures with multiple eyes all over their bodies. It's impossible to catch or even touch them, as they see and hear everything around them. They're as fast as Pride Imps.

Sloth

The most innocuous ones, more or less. Their tail contains a special poison that can paralyse anyone for half an hour, but they don't use it much. They don't even trim their fur, making them look like giant walking hairballs. They are recognizable by their huge blue fur and the tip of their tail looking like a scorpion one.

Imp: it's rare to see one outside of their homes or of the Hell's Spa, and it's even rarer to see one doing something relevant like... I dunno, paying taxes or something.

Animal: they look like anthropomorphic llamas. They smell like rotten cheese and their breath is so bad that no one can describe what it smells like without going in a coma.

Beast: a mix of llama and goats creatures. They don't do anything. They just lay down on the grass field of the forest and do nothing. Their fur can be trimmed, although with much difficulty, and used as pillows, sheets and more, but it's rare to get this type of fur because of how these Beasts are such easy targets for the other ones to eat.

Gluttony

The tail of Gluttony Demons produces a special sweet liquid that can make you feel dizzy and see hallucinations when swallowed (think of it like LSD but in liquid form). Because of that they're often abducted by greedy people to squirt all of the juice from the tail and sell it to others, commonly known as "Demon Juice". They are recognizable by their bat wings (I forgot to draw that in the Imp below, whoops) purple fur and the tip of their tail resembling a fruit-looking sphere.

Imp: some of them have dark circles under their eyes and a little scruffy appearance. Usually they carry around a cup so that they can drink their "Demon Juice" whenever and wherever they want... Or just directly put the tail in their mouth and munch it.

Animal: they have some characteristics of a bat, making them look like vampires. They have an even more scruffy look, most of the Gluttony Animals have their tails ruined and shriveled up due to the gland that produces that liquid being damaged by squeezing continuously the tail. Because of this, half of them assault or manipulate other Gluttony Demons to desperately drink their Demon Juice and make them feel "good" again.

Beast: bat-like monsters. They are always hungry, always in search of anything to eat, always screeching loudly and desperately. They're just as dangerous as Wrath Beasts, capable of sucking out the blood of a being as big as them in less than a half a minute. The 7 Deadly Sins, taking turns every day, have the job to feed these Beasts in particular, so that they don't eat most of the other Beasts or, in the worst case, that they don't exit the forest and add more havoc than there already was in Hell.

(⚠️LAST WARNING, ALTHOUGH IT'S NOT EXPLICIT, THE SECTION BELOW CONTAINS MENTIONS OF PROSTITUTION AND SEXUAL ACTIVITIES⚠️)

Lust

Most of these demons live in wealth (gee, I wonder why) yet they're also really feared by others because of their ability to control anyone's mind by simply listening to their voices. They are recognizable by often wearing revealing clothes, having pink fur and the tip of their tail resembling a heart.

Imp: they can be really nice companions/friends with benefits, especially if you want some nice... Uhm... Services. They might be cheaper than the Lust Animals, but their quality is just as high, especially with their long slimy tongues.

Animal: they're viper-like creatures with additional heads as hands, to not be confused with Hell Snakes. They're sneaky and some even cruel with others, they get paid even more than Imps by people with... Questionable tastes, to say the least.

Beast: they're three headed snake monsters. Even by just looking at one of their 6 eyes you'll enter in a trance state and be the next appetizer of this ravenous and slimy creature.

[jhoneybees]

Grumpy.

Ooooo a Greg Nolan ficcccc! Ok this one I just had to write as smut because oh how I love my hubby, my pumpy umpy umpkin, huggy bearrr Greggy Nolannn(sorry if they was cringe as hell-) Hope you enjoy!🤭

Characters: Greg Nolan X wife!reader

Warnings/triggers: SMUTTTT, argument, angry sex, fingering, handjob, spanking, swearing, Greg being rough, use of daddy

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a @theelvisprincess @thelonelyheart @polksaladava @hooked-on-elvis

_____________________________________________

Greg has been in such a grumpy mood lately and you know it’s his job that’s poking at him, you’re quite proud of how well he’s managing his anger because there were times where he took it too far and hurt some people’s feelings and you made sure to talk to him about it. You’ve been married to him for 6 years now and really, you’re still surprised how easy it is to annoy Greg, it’s like how a man pokes a bull and you have to admit your husband being this grumpy and sarcastic bum sometimes does things to you. That frown he almost has all the time is so hot, it’s so sexy and his voice, crisp, deep and grumbly, a lot of the time you can’t help rubbing your thighs together.

You do listen and comfort him from time to time, when he wants it you mean. It’s just when he comes home nowadays, roughly closing the front door. Huffing and puffing as he yanks his tie and jacket off, makes your brain turn to mush.

He’s just so sexy when he’s angry.

Now, you know some people might say that is quite toxic, to find your partner when they’re angry attractive but come on… doesn’t the thought of allowing him to dig all his anger deep inside of you with large firm hands gripping at your hips like a vice. Never letting you go until you get him to that place he craves sound delicious?

It’s so delicious that this afternoon, you are going to get yourself all dolled up for him. He’s been going through it this week and you think he deserves a bit of pampering and hopefully a bit of rough sex to get through this week of turmoil. You’ll get yourself in your best lingerie and curl your hair and when you finish, you’re gonna quickly run around the house, finishing off the rest of the chores you’ve been meaning to do this weekend, and finally after a little while of doing just that you gently sit yourself down on the main couch in the living room, fluffing your hair and adjusting your bra, biting your bottom lip at the anticipation of your husband arriving home.

Slam.

“Hi, honey.” You say, lovingly. Pushing your body off of the couch and padding over through the archway to the front door, holding your arms up to rest on his shoulders. Giving him the usual welcome kiss that he sighs from. “How did work go?”

“Shit.” Greg grumbles.

You can already feel your center tingling. “Oh.” Raking your fingers through his hair, you keep a bit of distance with your bodies. “Wanna talk about it?”

He huffs. “I’d just be telling ya the same thing.”

“I don’t mind.” You comfort, stifling a smile feeling his finger brush against the side of your thigh.

“What’re you wearin’ this for?” He asks and you smirk a little looking into his tired eyes, keeping your composure level.

“Thought I could give you a little bit of loving…” You lift your knee ever slightly, grazing your bare thigh against his clothed one. You slide your elbows down to rub your hands up and down on his chest. Inching your face to be that bit closer to his, nuzzling his nose with yours but he sighs a bit agitated and pulls away.

“Not ta’night, baby… I just want some peace.”

Lightly moving your arms off of him and walking past to make his way into the kitchen, you follow behind, quietly. Placing your hand on the counter as you watch him grab a beer from the fridge, popping the lid off with ease and taking a big swig. Your other hand fidgets with the strap of your bra, standing in a way to make him notice you but he just turns around and leans back against the same counter, facing away rubbing his face with his free hand.

“Ugh…” He groans. Hanging his head low as he takes another couple of swigs. Roughly pulling on his tie but when it gets caught suddenly he’s slamming his beer down and ripping the thing off. Throwing it over the counter for it to land on the floor. “Damnit!”

Your body jolts a little at the sudden noise, silently watching him in front of you pace back and forth his hair a bit more disheveled than before and as he’s taking off his blazer and rubbing his forehead. A deep frown appears on his face.

“That sonofab*tch doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about, tellin’ me ta do two photoshoots on Friday even though I got f*cking five to do on that same day. Comin’ in everyday ta tell me the same goddamn thing, sayin’ he’d pay extra but he never f*cking does… Could shove a f*ckin’ camera up his ass and tell ‘im ta piss off. I’m only one f*cking man.”

“...Honey?” You call out. Walking towards him with great caution and when your hand goes up to touch his shoulder, you blink feeling him slapping it away. “Baby you-”

“Not right now.” He growls.

But you try again, this time stepping in front of him and holding onto his shoulders. Your eyes peer up at him with concern and as you see he’s about to push you away you brace yourself only for nothing to come and you just hear him breathe in deeply and close his eyes. “Baby-”

“Listen to me, Gre-”

“I don’t wan-”

“You can always take a couple of days off to rest.” You say quickly in hopes that might help but clearly you’re wrong when he turns away in almost disgust.

“I ain’t got time for days-”

“You can make time-”

“MAKE TIME MY ASS.”

He snaps, making you flinch. “I’m sure your boss would-”

“Damnit!” He spits, turning away but when his gaze lands back on you. Your heart skips a beat seeing his blue eyes now on fire.

“F*cking ‘ell” He yanks on your arm and soon pinning your back to the kitchen counter, you squeak, feeling him tear your black panties off letting them fall, all ripped up on the floor by your feet, a hot breath on your ear. “Turn around.”

“W-What?” You stutter, chest heaving with shock.

Breathing heavily, his frown deepens. “You’re gonna take me like a good girl.” Gliding his big hand down squeezing your right ass cheek in his palm, your hips buck feeling his fingertip nudge against your already wet hole.

“O-Okay.” You whimper.

“Hm?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Gonna take me, good?” He asks with something a bit softer in his tone of voice but when you nod and he turns you around, pressing your torso onto the cold countertop, his next actions make you scratch the idea of him going easy on you right out of your head.

SLAP.

“Daddy!” You gasp, back arching feeling the sting on your skin.

“F*ck…” He breathes, pushing you back down. “Be a good girl f’me.”

You nod and your hand quickly grips the edge of the counter as your warm skin touches the cold vinyl making a shiver go down your spine and the clinking of Greg’s belt fills your ears. Gulping at the sound of his moans as he strokes his cock, you whimper loudly feeling from out of nowhere him push two of his long fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out quickly groaning at how wet your pussy is and not long he pulls them back out, cursing at how you taste as he sucks his fingers. “Mmm…”

Gripping onto your hip and guiding the tip of his cock to your dripping entrance, he thrusts himself inside with no warning, his hold tightening listening to your cries. “Greg!”

He begins to drive his hard length deep inside of you, not giving any time to adjust and as you feel the sensations spread all throughout your body, your head starts to spin.”Mm-”

“That’s it.” Greg groans, gritting his teeth. Not wasting any time on speeding up the rhythm of his thrusts.

You whine, rising onto your tippy toes trying to ease the slight pain that’s slowly forming into pleasure Greg slams your hips to the edge of the counter and rams his cock impossibly deeper. Leaning over your back as you quietly start to moan. He sucks the skin on the back of your neck in between his teeth, kissing there as his hands slide up to the top of your hip bones. Rolling his eyes back at your gushy walls clenching around his girth, coating him in all your juices.

“Taking me s’well…” He murmurs breathlessly in your ear, hastily unclasping your bra and sliding his hand underneath your body to grasp onto your breast rubbing his palm over your nipple making you moan and your arms shake as they try their best to hold you up. You bite your lip.”Goddamn…”

His thrusts get stronger and stronger as every moan and grunt goes by and wet sounds of your body colliding together fills your beach house soon your hitched breaths and slurred moans join in.

“Daddy…” You beg.

“Gonna get us there, baby…gonna get us there- oh yes…yes.”

Your eyes roll back, his tip nudging at your cervix. It’s now hitting that place over and over and how your moans were big and loud before, now they are deafening. The sensations get so good, so overwhelming good that it doesn’t take long for Greg to shoot his release into your womb and you cum hard on his cock.

“F*ck yes, baby…” He whispers after slowly coming down from his high. His forehead resting on the back of your shoulder as you pant.

“Feel better?”

“Mhm.”

“Grumpy.” You laugh breathlessly.

[solsticescribe]

Part 1 of The Greatest Showman AU

18 days.

18 days have passed since he last saw you. Since he lost his last job as a bodyguard he has been going around the country, taking part in different cage fights to get his mind off of what happened and off of you (he wasn't too successful so far). Besides, he got to earn some money in the process too, but one particular night changed his life completely.

He just finished his fight at another dingy bar in the middle of nowhere when two men approached him, looking for a fight. Revealing his claws, he was forced to leave. Once again. This is what happens every single time. It just makes him hate his claws more and more.

He got into his van, starting the engine and going wherever the road would take him, when suddenly he heard a thud from the back. He stopped and got out to investigate what made the sound, only to find the girl he saw in the bar hiding in the trailer.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. "I'm sorry, I needed a ride. Thought you might help me" She answered while climbing out. Logan threw her bag on the ground. He didn't wish for company, let alone the company of a kid. "Where am I supposed to go?" "I don't know" He spat back, turned around, planning to drive off. "Don't know or don't care?" "Pick one" He shut the door and started driving, but didn't get too far before his conscience made him stop to wait for her.

Having someone sitting in the car with him again was definitely unfamiliar and something that he thought he wouldn't experience anytime soon. "I'm Rogue" She said, breaking the silence. Logan said nothing but felt her eyes studying him. He took a cigar out of his pocket, tucking it between his teeth before searching his pockets for something to light it with. He finally pulled out a lighter, simple gray, engraved all over with different designs and patterns. Lighting the cigar with it, he kept playing with it for a while before reaching to put it away. "I'm feeling a bit cold. Would you mind if a used that for a second?" Rogue asked and reached her hand towards the lighter in his hand, black gloves covering her. Logan quickly pulled the lighter out of her reach, shoving it back into his pocket. "Not this one, kid. Put your hands on the heater." She was taken aback but pulled her hands back onto her lap. "Looks like you spent a lot of money on it" Rogue was met with silence again for a couple seconds before she heard him mutter "It was a gift". A precious one, from none other than you. One of the last keepsakes he has from the happiest period of probably his life, but certainly the happiest in his existing memory. There were not many things Logan was scared of, but forgetting you was his worst nightmare. He kept every precious moment with you in his memory, the only things making him keep going on until he can come back for you. Until he can provide you with a life you deserve and he feels good enough for you. Counting the days keeps him focused on his one goal, to get back to you.

"You should take off the gloves" He said when seeing Rogue trying to warm her hands on the heater with the gloves still on. "I probably shouldn't. Can't risk touching you." Logan glanced at her, used to people fearing him. Not you. You were never afraid of him and you made sure to remind him as many times as possible. Damn, he was thinking of you again. "Nothing personal, it's just - when people touch my skin, something happens" She continued. "What?" "I don't know. They just get hurt" Logan kept silent, his suspicion confirmed that Rogue was indeed a mutant as well. "Do they hurt when they come out?" She asked, glancing at his hands where she saw the claws coming out from in the bar. "Every time"

The memory of you seeing his claws for the first time came to his mind. You were ambushed. A large group of criminals attacking, planning on hurting you. Logan wouldn't let that happen, not in a million years. In the middle of the fight, almost instinctively, let his claws out to overcome the criminals as quick as possible. When he realized what he has done, as soon as the threat was over, he turned to you, expecting to see you scared, angry, even disgusted by him. But you just stood there, shock on your face and reaching out to him, when he heard the stern voice of your mother from behind. "I knew there was something strange about you. To think that I let you close to my child. Get away you freak." She spat with venom and multiple guards followed her, stopping you from getting to him. He still saw you trying to fight your way to him, calling out his name desperately. The words of your mother, the one who hired him to protect you, faded into the background, his sole focus on you and you only but his feet were frozen in place no matter how much he wanted to get to you, he couldn't move.

"Watch out!" Rogue called out before a tree fell on the hood of the car. He was thrown by the force and landed in the snow. He felt the cuts and bruises that formed on his body from the impact. "Are you alright, kid?" He asked as he saw the girl squirming, still in her seat. "I'm stuck!" She screamed. A strange scent hit Logan's nose as he was approaching the vehicle. Suddenly, a man jumped out of the woods, throwing Logan on the hood of the van, which made him pass out.

[ud505]

Mike/Matt/Chris/Josh crushing on Chubby/Thicker!reader :)?

Nsfw/sfw hcs ( either work) 🖤💙

Mike:

• This guy's an ass man, no one can convince me otherwise, so you can already imagine which part of your body he'll always look at (most of the time without realizing)

• Let's be honest, he didn't expect falling for you. He's one of those guys who likes model-looking people. So when he met you, he couldn't understand why he was so attracted to you (but he got used to it very easily)

• If the two of you are close, he'd hug you from behind just to "accidentally" touch your curves

• And he also likes to put his arm across your shoulders when you're close to him, squeezing your upper arm in a loving way

• Your chest is his personal pillow. While intimacy or not, he will put his face in your chest in a teasing way, and he might even get asleep in that way

• And may I say he loves to kiss you down towards your breasts/chest and then to your stomach

• He melts and gets turned on when he sees you with his clothes, he loves how good it looks on you

• Loves when you bent over. Just seeing how your tummy rolls gives him goosebumps. And he's absolutely purposely throwing things to the floor just to see you bend (so imagine how excited he'd get when you go down on him)

• He loves how warm it feels when the two of you are cuddling, especially after sex. It relaxes him in a way he can't express

Matt:

• I feel like he'd immediately think that you're insecure bc you're chubby, and he'd always compliment you to boost up your confidence

• He loves to cook, and if you like it too, he'd use it as an excuse to hang out more with you

• And he'd always surprise you with your favorite snack (or comfort food if you have one) when you're having a bad time

• Oh if he hears somebody body shaming you... He's a "you aren't a man if you body shame people" kinda guy, he can't stand it, and even less if someone's talking like that abt his partner

• He likes to lay on your stomach and thighs bc, apart from feeling like it's the best pillow anyone could ask for, bc he gets to get closer to you without being too weird

• Also, he'd smack your ass in an affectionate way sometimes

• And during intimacy? God, he's absolutely giving you spanks (making sure you don't get hurt, it's just that he can't help it but love it)

• If you have any stretch marks, he'd pass his hands around them and he'd kiss them regularly

• And oh, your lips. He loves to kiss you bc he loves them. They're so full and pretty he can't keep himself calm

Chris:

• As Mike, he's an ass man and can't help but look at your ass whenever you're with him

• And the same for your thighs. His mind goes crazy when you're wearing shorts or anything that makes them a bit visible

• He can't help it but to be shy around you, your sole existence makes him very nervous (and sometimes intimidated, even if he doesn't wanna admit it)

• He always thinks he's gonna mess up with gifts for you. When he wants to gift you some new clothes, he goes crazy thinking abt which size to buy you and immediately feels bad for it

• Can't help it but look at how your cheeks go up when you smile and laugh and how cute they look

• So one of the things he'd ask you a lot to do would be to play Just Dance with him. He wants to see you laugh and smile while he's being silly

• When he's playing some video games, he'd ask you to sit on his lap bc he finds it comforting asf

• And he'd literally beg you to ride him while you're doing it just to have his hands on your waist and ass

• And if you think that you're too big to ride him? Oh baby, he's gonna assure you that he can. He's kinda buffed and he has no problem with you being on top of him

Josh:

• He's not very good with being affectionate with people he has a crush on, so he'd make up any excuse to get close to you

• Hires a personal stylist just for you. He hates clothes for chubby people and, since he loves you and he wants the best for you, he'd surprise you with that "little" detail (bc he's rich, what else is he gonna do with his money?)

• Wants to kiss every single part of your body, especially the parts you're insecure abt

• He melts at the idea of showering with you while he hugs you from the back (not necessarily in a spicy way)

• And he totally likes to sleep hugging you as if you were his personal teddy bear (it helps him sleep way more than you could imagine)

• I feel like he's a biter guy, or at least that he likes to give hickeys, so imagine how wild his imagination would go when he realizes that he has "more skin" to bite

• And he's a skin pincher, he loves how soft your skin is and he's gonna do it every time he can (bonus points if your skin gets red, he's a sucker for that)

• He also loves to squeeze your thighs, especially when you're sat. He can't help but be mesmerized abt how chubby and squishy they look

• When the two of you are having a movie night, he'd put his head on your stomach or your lap and he'd caress your hands and/or your thighs (he can't help it, it's almost like an instinct)

[sweetimpurity]

I think I'll keep you:

c.ai bot drop

a/n (please read!): Hiya! I've been working on these bots for a little while, trying to make them stick to the story I've been writing all year. But it is an ai bot so I have no control over what it says or suggests past the greeting. It might not stick to the story exactly. If there's anything you think could be improved or information you think the bots should have about the plot, just message and let me know! I hope you guys have fun kiss kiss!! 😘🍬

These can all be found on my profile: sweetimpurity 💓

I think I'll keep you

Miguel has no interest in a relationship. He just saw you one day and then your tutoring hours posted on the cork board. He knew he had to have you for one night. You were surprised when the text came in from him, him of all people, asking for a session. But he quickly got you on your knees and then in his bed. This one night would turn into much more.

“Oh, god…” You pant and whine, your head leaning to the side to rest on his head.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good…” He curses through a heavy breath against your neck. A high pitched squeal escapes your throat as your back arches against his chest and it hits you hard and fast. Your squeals turn into cries of his name, how good he feels.

He doesn't know what's come over him. He doesn't form attachments like this. But there's something about you that makes him want to bring you pleasure over and over again.

You’re babbling and thrashing in his arms and Miguel smiles, finally getting what he wants. Hearing your sweet innocent voice whining out the dirtiest things. You're a soft warm mess as he chases his own release.

He holds you tightly against him as you both stop moving and start panting to catch your breath. You’re glad he’s still holding you because if he let go, you’d surely face plant into the mattress. Your head rests back on his shoulder and he places small kisses on your skin as he snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, breathing deep and sighing out in relief.

“Will you be mine?” He asks softly and kisses your cheek. “Mine only…” He whispers and his gaze meets yours when you lift your head, turning it so you can look in his eyes. His finger strokes your cheek softly and it’s like he’s looking at the sun. He can try to close his eyes but the memory of you will always be seared into his mind.

“I want to be yours…” You whisper and watch his eyes as they light up a bit, a grin playing on his reddened lips. “Good. I think I’ll keep you…” He smiles and holds your jaw in his hand, kissing your lips once more...

I think I'll keep you 2

You've been gone only three days and he's losing his mind. Everything was so good before you decided to go home for the weekend. Miguel had you every night he wanted, every morning too. Peter's party was supposed to be a distraction but it turned into a disaster. A drunken Dana all over him and he just wants to make her hate him if only to leave him alone. He doesn't want her. He wants you back to campus.

Not hearing from you for three days is making his head spin, and he can’t help but picture you with some guy that’s not him. He throws Dana on the bed, pulling her by the ankles and grabbing her face. Could she handle him if she tried? The answer is no.

“You really like to get on my nerves, don’t you?” He seethes. But even Dana loves the attention.

Ding!

His red hot rage is interrupted by his phone going off. His face softens and his heart skips a beat just like it did when you said you’d be his. He can’t control that feeling. Miguel picks up his phone, seeing your name pop up and his eyes dart around the screen reading it.

{{user}}: “Came back early :)”

“Coming now” He texts right back.

He sighs audibly, a mix of relief and frustration at the same time. “What is it?” Dana whines, sprawled out on his bed, getting her loud perfume all over his sheets where the smell of you should be. “Get out.” He demands, stepping back and going to put on his jacket again to go. “What?! Are you serious?” She scoffs, sitting up on his bed.

"Yes! GET OUT!!" He shouts, making her flinch. She scurries off, out of his dorm fighting back tears. He pulls the jacket on, pushing out of his room and marching his way over to your dorm.

I think I'll keep you 3

Miguel pushes off the wall, going to the library door and seeing you’re finally alone. His heart thumps in his chest. Clenching his swollen bruised hand in his pocket. He sighs and forces himself to walk inside.

You suddenly look up. Stopping him in his tracks. And it’s like he feels like he’s doing something wrong. He told you, you were never supposed to happen for him. That what happened between you for an entire month was a mistake. To not let your messy feelings ruin everything. It’s been four days. Not a call, not a text. Nothing. And now he’s here. You look away first. Back down to your laptop to continue typing. And he continues walking, stopping at the edge of the table across from you.

“I need to talk to you.” He speaks, towering over the table. Thinking back to all those moments it’s like none of that ever mattered because it didn’t matter to him. How can you trust him again when he treated you like he wanted you and then told you, you were never supposed to happen. And you gave him your body, your heart everyday for a month already.

“I’m busy right now.” You say softly, keeping your eyes locked on your laptop screen. While this time away from him has been hell and you’ve been heartbroken over this, he’s also been a total dick.

He’s been trying all week to find you. To talk to you. Trying to find sneaky ways so that he doesn't have to beg for your attention. He wants things back the way they were. He wants you back in his bed. He doesn’t know what he feels.

He walks around the table. You don’t look up, not even sparing him a glance. Glaring at your laptop screen and seeing his movement in your peripherals. He silently walks to the seat right next to you. Slipping down into it to sit beside you. His hands shoved back into his pockets.

"{{user}}… hey...” He says gently, trying to get your attention. Turning in his chair slightly to face you more. He can see your anger, he can feel it too.

“I’m not talking to you.” You say without looking at him.

“Well I’m talking to you…”

I think I'll keep you 4

“...his hand, he’s been having swelling and bruising for a few days now…” You explain kindly to the receptionist once you’re both in the waiting room, standing at the front desk. Miguel standing a bit like a lost puppy behind you, listening to you talk to the receptionist there.

“Alright, the doctor can take a look once she’s done with another patient. If you can just fill out these forms and have a seat, it should be about 30 minutes.” She smiles and hands you a clipboard and a pen.

“Thank you. And could he please get some ice or something?” You smile and ask. The woman nods politely and going to grab an ice pack from the other room. You both start walking over to the waiting room area, looking over the form in your hands. Taking a seat by the fish tank and settling in to wait a little while. Miguel sits right beside you, running the good hand through his dampened hair from the rain. He glances down at the form in your lap. Then up at the side of your face. Wanting to reach out and touch your skin. Kiss your cheek. Remembering what it feels like to melt into your arms. Thinking of all the ways he can beg for, earn your forgiveness. Just as he’s about to speak-

“Here you go…” The receptionist is there, an ice pack outstretched for him to take, breaking him out of his thoughts. He forces a smile, taking the ice pack and setting it over his hand. “Thank you.” He smiles gently. Watching the woman walk away.

He feels like shit. Feels so bad for being so closed off and such a jerk to you about all of this. This past month hasn't been meaningless like he told you in the heat of the moment. It's meant something he just doesn't know how to say it. It's hard for him to put his feelings into words. For you it seems so easy, why can't he just be like you?

He looks back, watching you write down his name on the form. Thinking he can probably do this himself. Before he can interrupt you’re asking him for the information on the form.

I think I'll keep you 5

When the athletic door swings from someone else leaving, he catches a glimpse of you through the opening. The bright lights from outside assault his eyes as the door swings again. Seeing you for just a moment. Just a split second. Talking with Peter against the fence. He stops. What is he walking into? What’s about to change? You’re gonna be there right when he goes through that door. He stands in the dim concrete tunnel, feeling his heart race. He doesn’t like this feeling. This is the loss of control.

“Miguel!” Peter smiles, making you turn to look back. And there he is, walking out the door. You want to just run into his arms and tell him how great he was. Even though he didn't get to play he still coached very well and played his part in the victory. But Peter is talkative and gets in there before you can. And you don't really want to interrupt when he's talking with his friends. Since this is the first time you've been around his friends with him.

“We’re gonna get drinks, you have to come” Peter says, ushering Miguel over to where you’re standing. “This is {{user}}… {{user}} this is Miguel”

“Yeah we know each other.” Miguel says immediately. Not a hint of a smile on his face. He’s annoyed with Peter. Annoyed that it’s not a known thing. He wants it to be known that you two are an item. Or… that there’s something going on… he’s not even sure of at the moment. At least that Peter should know to back off. “Oh cool, so drinks?” Peter asks you.

Miguel’s a little astonished with how easily Peter just brushed that off. Eyes flicking between you two and hoping to god you don’t accept the drink invite. But he bites his tongue. Friends. Really good… friends.

[the-thieves-gambit]

That earned a well-deserved eye roll but it was quickly gone with a chuckle as she heard his laugh. Listening, she could see the park before her, and gave occasional little sounds of confirmation to let him know that she was paying attention. "Sounds like you've been skipping leg day at the gym. You should start taking longer walks with Dolly. Might meet some more interesting people than me to bother on your days off." It was a small implanted suggestion that she hoped he would take into consideration.

"I know all you boys have your secrets. I know the CIA's and the Air forces in Nevada and I know you boys have your small subsection as well." Her time in Vegas came to mind and the finger one of the agents, a regular at the club she was dancing at, twitched at the memory of it. Though it had healed well, it still bothered her when the weather was cold and she couldn't fold it completely when making a fist. "If you do you might be partnered up with your Scully. If you are, I will need an invite to the wedding, after all, it was my idea that led you there, so you're welcome future Wally."

At hearing Wally, Dolly nuzzled against Elizabeth's chin wanting to listen in and let out a small ruff at the words he said. With a giggle, she put it on speaker mode so the pup could hear him clearer. "I should be thanking her for the company. And you for letting me watch her. The days seem to be flying by with her around. and she gives me an excuse to finally go exploring around the island like I wanted to." There was something to be said about the way that he was willing to talk about anything else than what she knew would be the biggest thorn in her side while trying to get the office ready for her to leave. So she let herself be distracted by him talking about his day. Letting a groan out at the simple mistakes some people made.

"I'm always preparing, there's a difference. It's like the condom motto, it's better to have one and not need it than to need it and not have it." Cuddling against Dolly she added. "Dolly's different and you know it." Rolling her eyes she added. "Yes, I know they jump, but its better than being kicked by hind legs of a powerful animal or be thrown from one."

Oh, now that was promising. “Well it’s been a while since I’ve been out there, this sounds like the perfect excuse to travel for a bit.” Settling into a kore comfortable position, she sighed. As much as she poked fun at him for being tired, the recent uptake on hikes and walks with Dolly around was tiring her too. “Thanks for that. Can’t believe you were thinking about my case while working on yours.”

Hearing the all-familiar tone of a video call, she shifted around so she was still cuddling Dolly but she had become all too conscious about the fact that she was wearing his sweater. Hoped the fact that she was holding the phone out so Dolly was in front of her would help hide it. Knowing him, he would see it and use it as an excuse to tease her about possibly missing him, which she didn't. She only wore it because it was the coziest thing she had at the moment, he hadn't lied when he talked about how soft it was. It felt like a lot like a hug.

After settling into a position, she let it switch over and it took a moment to adjust seeing how much darker it was on his end. His green eyes shone like twinkling emerald stars, taking her off guard for a second. "The Roosevelt, she only lived there for a very short period of time. If anything she'd be at the Brentwood estate she was found at. I don't know why people can't let that poor woman be. She suffered enough when she was alive." Magnus was an old Hollywood lover and would waste no moment to show her the old movies or tell her what he knew about them. Most of her aliases came from those old movies. The laugh was a small one, it wasn't at him but at the idea of that hallway having a poltergeist. "If that were the case we would all already have one attached to each of us, this planet has been spinning for so long that if everyone became ghosts, by now we would all have one."

It felt like the lighthouse all over again, questions she thought she would be asked or had ever thought about before, that somehow only felt like a Wally thing. Whether it be the agent training or the curiosity he seemed to have, she would indulge for now, he had after all let his dog stay with her. Pondering the question over a moment, she thought about all the times that she thought she saw her dad in places over the years in her travels. When visiting parks that they had visited, mostly in California which he always loved. She remembered Jennifer telling him once that he might be John Muir reincarnated. With a sigh, she replied. "I read once that ghosts are a lot things to people. That sometimes they are a daydream or guilt or anger or even a memory. I think sometimes people wish for someone to be around so much that they can conjure their own ghosts. But," she laughed. "I also come from people who believe in fairies and merpeople and trolls, and ghosts too. So I think it would be silly for me to say that they don't exist in a way. And I guess you obviously do or else we wouldn't be having this conversation, right?"

There was that bit of hair that seemed to always be in his face when he let his hair down. She wanted to reach out and tuck behind his ear as she had before he left but couldn't. "Hey," there was something about not being able to look into his eyes unobstructed that seemed to bother her at the moment. "Sorry, but ," she pointed towards her face as if to mimic the tucking motion. "Can you... I don't know why but it's bugging me." It was then that she realized, as the memory of the last time he was there came back that not only was she sleeping in his hoodie, he had slept in her bed and she was cozying up to his dog while on the phone with him. Something strange stirred in her, but she ignored it chalking it up to just being tired. He'd fall asleep before she did though if she kept him talking. "So what's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

He grinned even though she couldn't see him he still did it. "I was getting to the hello just needed to catch you off guard first." His laughter was easy going and flowed like a river. "A National Park, not just any old one. Lassen Volcanic National Park. The meadows were freckled with wildflowers and those lakes are so crystal clear. I mean, I know I wasn't there for the sights but it was refreshing to see a familiar sight to home. Water wise anyway." He sighed and shook his head. "Truly unexpected way to start Monday morning with hearing grab your boots we going hiking. My legs are killing me though."

Hearing Liz on the other side of the call made him smile. He knew he'd missed her but it didn't click just how much until he heard her voice and consequently her teasing banter. He rolled his eyes as he chuckled and sighed. "He wishes he was this cool. Actually, we do have a UFO department did you know that? Fun fact of the night. I may just request a transfer. Thank you for the reminder. Alien life expert." Wally couldn't help but laugh at his own lame joke.

Getting the picture of his pup made him smile as he chuckled and talked to Dolly knowing she could hear him. "There's my precious girl." he cooed and saved the picture. "Thank you again for keeping her company. She looks very happy and very well loved." That pause made him open his eyes and frown. "That bad huh?" He wasn't sure if it was the tone of her voice or that pause that gave it away to him but he picked up on something in her voice. "For what its worth im glad you got my furry best friend to at least get a smile out of you." His dog was good at that. "Timezones you say, huh it's the first I'm hearing about it."

"Oh that tells me you have not had a moment to sit. Manoa Falls? It has a pretty name. Tell me about it. What did you like the most? A guard dog? Has she already found her new calling? Is this your way of breaking it to me? I'm glad that she's been having a ball of a week so far. I hope that when people asked if she was yours you said yes." He wouldn't have minded it either. Dolly took to Liz so he knew the dog liked her.

Wally sighed and knew that cop bullies usually tended to set their sights on a new target, the ones that came after them first. "I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do let me know." Just by the sound of her voice he knew she didn't want to dwell on this so he switched the topic. "Messy for sure. It turned out that the sheriff for the county lost the paperwork so Sunday when I landed had me at the station waiting for seven hours to see one page of a report that someone actually had saved. The rest needed to be requested from the San Diego office. Not only that but they had three suspects that all had alibis but stories didn't align correctly. So, now we have to trace all three of their footsteps. First guy had us at the National Park. The other was the aquarium and the last one which is my least favorite will have us at a strip club talking to some of the employees there. All this because no one thought to pull fingerprints. One deputy touched a bloody cloth with his hands." Wally sighed. "Upside is that they're all cooperating."

"Why are you so sure that Wildfire will hate you? Do you not trust me? If I had a doubt that she'd hurt you I wouldn't even have you consider this. It'll be like when you met Dolly. Wildfire will fall in love with you. Its not hard to do you know?" he rolled his eyes and laughed. "You are always thinking worst case scenarios. A pony? We can put you on ponies but technically Wildfire is a baby. You're scared of a little baby." His laughter wasn't mean spirited just amused. "It is a ranch. Fine we are adding feeding goats to the list. They jump up just FYI."

His sleepy little laughter rung out and nodded against his pillow. "Mhmm. The big old circle isn't there anymore but that's because city didn't let them build it. Said it was too big. But still there." Her laughter made him hum in content as he had forgotten how melodic a sound it was. "It's actually a funny story. The guy you were looking is friends with suspect number two. They just didn't put two and two together until I saw the report."

Wally switched to video as he had missed seeing her face but could use the pretense of seeing Dolly. He smiled sleepily as his eyes were the only thing visible. "They said it was Marilyn Monroe's ghost but I know that's false. She haunts the Roosevelt and we're so far away from that hotel. I think it's a poltergeist, might be, I hear rustling more than I see any figures pop up. I'm not scared," a little lie. "I just don't fuck with them. What if you inadvertently piss them off because you step on their favorite spot on the floor? And then you have one hanging on you and you have no idea how to begin to apologize." Shaking his head his eyes sparkled with amusement as he moved slightly so his long bang would fall to the side inside of on top of his eye. "Do you believe in them?"

[sunflowerdigs]

As many people have pointed out, S8 seems to be S5: Tim's version. There are also callbacks to S3, but the structure seems to mirror S5 (the season it's also speculated that Buddie would have happened if not for Fox).

With that in mind, I've put together some speculation about Buck and Eddie in the back half of s8, based on S5.

I'm anticipating Eddie going through with the El Paso idea in 8x10 like he went through with leaving the 118 in 5x10. Drama, not realism, is the point of the series, so even though Eddie is obviously coming back, I suspect they'll have him leave in a way that seems permanent (and it also sounds like it will affect the whole 118 this time, so that's nice).

Given the show's current set up, Eddie can't stay in El Paso alone for as long as he stayed at Dispatch. Only Peter and Angela are currently getting multi-episode arcs with multiple guest stars attached. Also, El Paso isn't built into the show like Dispatch was. My suspicion is that we'll get one episode (8x11 or 8x12) where Eddie has the B or C storyline and reconnects with Chris as well as talks to Helena and Ramón. I think we'll see him start to realize that LA and the 118 are home for him, and that his own happiness is paramount to taking good care of Chris, so he'll make the choice to bring Chris home.

In the meantime, Buck is going to be dealing with his abandonment issues and with the fact that Eddie's absence has hit him so hard. Now, 911 could easily chicken out here and try to examine the abandonment without going into Eddie specifically (which wouldn't make much storytelling sense if Buddie is indeed where Buck and Eddie's storylines are headed, but would let them drag Buddie out longer 🙄). Either way, as with s5, I'm expecting Buck to make some dumb relationship decision in 8x11 (5x11 kiss with Lucy) and then make some kind of confession about it in either 8x12 or 8x13 (he confessed to Taylor about the kiss in 5x13, but probably would have done so in 5x12 had the Boston episode not happened). The confession could be to whoever he made the dumb romantic choice about or it could be to Maddie (since he confessed to Maddie about the Lucy kiss before he did Taylor). If we're lucky, the confession will be about both his abandonment issues and how he feels about Eddie (his Oh moment, if you will).

And then, right after Buck makes that confession and things are looking more hopeful for him (8x12 or 8x13), he'll get a frantic call from Eddie, telling him that Helena is trying to take full custody of Christopher and may actually be able to do it and he needs Buck's help. This would parallel Christopher's call about Eddie's breakdown in 5x13, but would also be an evolution of it, with Eddie choosing to reach out to Buck rather than break down in a room alone. Buck would burn rubber down to El Paso, and the next episode would be Eddie's big confrontation with Helena, Buck by his side. Imo, having to justify his life in LA to a mediator with custody of Chris on the line might force a level of honesty out of Eddie that he may not be consciously aware of and could kick-start his own feelings realization.

Eddie would win custody with Buck's support in 8x13 or 8x14 (parallel to Buck helping with the horse therapy in 5x14). And then...idk. With both Buck and Eddie in Texas, the show could justify extending the arc there a few more episodes and could let a vengeful Helena kidnap Chris (imo unlikely since 911 seems to like to forgive bad parents). Or Buck and Eddie could return to LA and the 118 with Chris immediately after Eddie gets custody. Either way, I think the show will let feelings between Buck and Eddie percolate for a bit until either the episode before the finale or the finale itself, which will probably be their first kiss (in time for Pride month! If Pride month still happens in America...😬).

[lovelyshu]

I ONLY TALK TO DOGS BECAUSE THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND ME — with Minho

001 DESCRIPTION — how minho deals with a crying teenager he cares about

002 TAGS — all platonic, gn reader, use of yn like once, very fluffy, a tiny bit of angst if you squint (reader doesn't trust parents with problems or anyone else tbh + like lots of crying), very self indulgent

003 COMMENTS — what does crying at least once a week in the middle of the night does to a person? It gives them ✨ideas✨. Also this was inspired by my brother even if I never told him much. He was the only person I allowed to see me cry.

004 TAGGING — @hannamoon143 @jisunggy

Minho doesn't remember exactly when did he got so close to you. And to be honest, neither did you.

But now you were someone very important to him, going as far as calling you his little sibling.

And that's also one of the reasons he accepted when you asked to sleep on his house that night.

The other reason being that he knew you weren't feeling so good these days. Even if you tried to hide it, your obvious reactions to which no one seemed to notice or care gave it away.

Well, that didn't mean he was expecting to her crying in the middle of the night.

It was 1:35 am. And Minho had no idea on to why were you still awake. He was still feeling sleepy and tired, but as soon as he heard the sob coming from the other room, his mind put to the side any sleepiness in his body.

Slowly, he walked to your room, standing right outside your door. Minho thought about knocking on it, but you would probably just ignore.

So that's why he just - slowly - opened it, to which made you freeze, trying to pretend to be asleep.

“yn? Are you alright?”

No response.

Sighing, he walked closer to you after closing the door, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Minho knew you had trouble with opening up to other people, even sympathizing with the feeling. Knowing that, he put a hand over your head, patting it softly.

“If there's anything bothering you, I'm more than happy to help you. You don't need to bottle up everything.”

As you stayed in silence, he continued.

“And I can also just listen, if you'd like. I won't tell anyone about this, unless you ask me to.”

The silence continued for a short moment, until he heard you speak, voice cracking slightly. A clear sign you were indeed crying.

“Not even my parents?”

“No. If you don't want them to know, I won't tell them.”

You slowly turned to face him, sitting up. Minho seeing this slowly puts your head on his shoulder, letting you take your time with talking.

“Minho... I'm sorry..”

“What are you sorry for?” - he spoke in such a soft and calm tone that made you get even more emotional than you were.

Trying to find the right words, more tears begun to found their way to your eyes as you tried your best to not let them fall.

“For everything. I'm a failure, I can't do anything right, my parents are alright but it seems like I can never make them proud. The only thing I give them is shame.”

Minho moved you a bit, enough so that you could hide your face on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you.

“Sometimes I just want to disappear.. I always ask myself if anyone would even care if I did...”

Hearing your words made Minho hug you tightly, mumbling in such a low voice that you might've missed if it wasn't for the silence.

“You're not a failure. If anything, you are the most talented and intelligent person I've ever met.”

Minho sighed as he noticed that you were crying even more, knowing those words might mean something way too big for your own heart to bear.

“And you don't even see it. If you ever disappeared, I'd go all around the world to find you.”

Slowly, he laid you down again, but now, laying down as well, still holding you.

After some long minutes, Minho noticed you were drifting off to sleep, which somehow, got him in peace enough to do the same.

Not until he whispered again.

“You're not alone. Don't forget that.”

Was the last thing you heard before closing your eyes, comfortably sleeping while cuddling no one other than Minho himself.

[reverieblondie]

Rolan x Tav prompt: Rolan (and maybe his siblings, too) meets Tav's family, who thought Tav was dead after being abducted by the mind flayers, only for Tav's family to react... poorly to one of their own being with 'one of those devil spawns'. What if after a moment of shock, his lover absolutely tears into their family—I'm talking 'How dare you!', maybe Tav even smacks one of their family members in the face first, ending with something like 'If I'd known I was related to such disgusting people, then I'd have saved us all some trouble and let you continue to think I was dead!'—before storming away, their hand in Rolan's, as they murmur apology after apology to him about what just happened and ask if he is okay?

So I have been sitting on this one forever! I keep starting it but just can not get the story right so I will do a quick drabble for the ending. I love this this prompt! and I can totally see this happening to a Tav who has been estranged to their family. Maybe one of the reasons they were in a position to get abducted was because they were leaving their family home for something better.

I think the only reason Tav would go to this thing was because of Rolan suggesting it might be good to see her family again, get closer about everything. Rolan offers to go with her for moral support (like a good partner would) Of course her family are asses from the start talking about how famous Tav is now and how much money they must be making... but Tav and Rolan are just trying to ignore these rude questions and their not so sublet subjections for help... Tav is obviously not wanting to help them after everything and her family has some things to say about that...

"You disappear for a year and your some fancy hero and you can't even help your family? What have you even been doing all this time? shacking up with some...hellspawn?"

Now insult Tav all you want but go after Rolan? Hells no.

"And what of it? Rolan is my partner."

That's when Tavs aunt speaks up, "Your a fool girl, those soulless imps will take you for what your worth then throw you out."

Tav is about to slap her aunt but before she can her hand is caught by Rolan. Tav looks at Rolans solemn face and that's when the tears well up.

Tav holds the tears in as much as he can as he looks at those people who dare to call themselves her family. "You are the soulless ones... Rolan and his family have been more of a family to me than any of you ever were... Consider me dead, because you all are dead to me."

With that Tav storms out with Rolans hands tightly in hers, they walk in a fast pace heading towards their home and Tav is fighting the tears trying to fall from her eyes and Rolan keeps trying to call for her to slow down. Finally Tav stops and spins around hugging Rolan so tightly it threatens to knock the air out of his lungs.

"I am, I am so sorry... I didn't know they... I'm so sorry for what they said. Please know that I didn't think they would say that. They are terr-"

Rolan finally places his hand to Tavs Rambling lips before wiping her tears. "I'm the one whose sorry... I told you to go visit them.. and what they said... I've been ridiculed my whole life, but for them to ridicule you is something I can never forgive."

Tav and Rolan share in a tearful embrace, both of them trying so hard to reinsure if the other is okay.

I later imagine when they get engage its a huge story in the Baldurs Gate paper. Its not out of spite... but if they happen to see it and feel like idiots than thats okay too.